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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

caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma · 4 years

Text

Map of the Soul, Drabble #2

Drabble #2 - A Prom Dress Fit for a Princess

Pairing: Hoseok x reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Word Count: 7K+

Warnings: NSFW 18+ cursing, sexual tension, groping, oral sex (m/f receiving), fingering, suggestive language, protected consensual sex,

“Why can’t we just have a normal theme for Prom?” you scoffed while looking at the garish poster in the hallway. “This theme is totally isolating people who are planning on going to Prom without dates.”

“Costumes aren’t just for couples, sweetheart,” a warm voice mutters behind you. “Must you make everything into an argument?”

You grinned at the playful tone in his voice, but you couldn’t shake the need to validate your argument. You refused to turn around because you knew that the moment you saw that heart-shaped smile, you’d lose any and all conviction in furthering your point.

“I’m just saying that not everyone is going to fit into this theme,” you continued. “What if someone wanted to go alone or in a group? What do those people do for costumes? The only depictions on this poster are couples. That’s very discouraging.”

“What is so discouraging about Romeo & Juliet?” the voice countered. “That’s classic literature and totally your thing.”

“A poor example, at best,” you snorted. “Unless you’re trying to go for a lame teenage romance gone completely wrong. They would not be my first choice in literary couples.”

“Oh yeah?” the voice challenged. “Name one better than Romeo & Juliet. I dare you.”

“The Little Prince and his Rose,” you argued. “Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy! Shrek and Fiona!”

Suddenly, you were whirled around and into the arms of a very handsome and very annoyed boy who was clearly not happy with your examples.

“There is no way I’m painting myself green,” the handsome boy growled. “There are limits to my love, sweetheart.”

“What are you talking about?” you snickered at him. “You were going to be Fiona. I was going to be Shrek. Haven’t you heard of genderbent costumes, Hobi?”

Jung Hoseok rolled his eyes at you as you burst into a fit of giggles imagining him in a green ensemble complete with red wig and golden tiara. Your giggles ceased abruptly as he tugged you into a nook in the hallway and pressed his lips onto yours. It was a simple kiss, but it was enough to shut you up. Before either of you got any ideas about flaunting your PDA in the middle of the high school, Hoseok pulled away and shook his head in mock exasperation. You’d been dating for nearly a year and you still knew exactly what to do and say to get him riled up and pouting.

“You’re always teasing me, sweetheart,” Hoseok whined cutely. “One of these days, I’m going to have to punish you for being so mean to me.”

“I’m sorry, Hobi,” you cooed. “It’s just so much fun to see your feathers all ruffled.”

“No feathers and no sequins,” Hoseok commanded. “Like I said before, I have limits.”

“Fine, then we won’t be Shrek and Fiona,” you relented. “I’m sure we can figure out an amazing costume for Prom. But seriously, honey, the Prom committee should try to make some posters that are more inclusive. Maybe like group or solo costumes?”

“Ok, ok,” Hoseok exclaimed. “I will talk to our marketing person and see if they can make some extra posters. I can’t have the Prom Committee Chair’s girlfriend starting a ruckus over inclusivity.”

“Thank you, my love,” you replied while planting a kiss on his flushed cheek. “Now, let’s get to class. We’re starting a new project in Theatre today.”

Hand in hand, the two of you rushed off to your next class with thoughts of Prom floating around your head. -------------------------------

“This is going to be an amazing project, baby!” Hoseok cheered. “Aren’t you excited?”

“Well, yeah,” you sighed. “But there are just so many options, it’s difficult to choose just one.”

Your Theatre teacher’s words echoed in your mind and you scrolled through the search results on your phone.

Your next project is to create a Fairy Tale Performance. Choose a fairytale, create your own costumes, props, and design a set. You will be performing for the elementary students in about three weeks and you will be graded on your theatrical choices and how the audience reacts to your performance.

“What about Hansel and Gretel?” you suggested. “I think you’d look cute in lederhosen and I can totally pull off wooden clogs and braids.”

“Ewww, pass,” Hoseok winced. “That would require a lot of set design and we’d have to find a witch. I want something that is just for the two of us.”

“Ok, then what about Rapunzel?” you offered. “It might be fun to make a massive braided wig and drape it all over the stage.”

“What is it with you and braids?” Hoseok chuckled. “No, I think we can do better.”

“Well, then you pick something, Hobi,” you huffed. “I’ve already suggested over a dozen different fairy tales. What exactly are you looking for?”

“Something unique,” he smiled. “Something just for us.”

Hand in hand, you were both deep in thought as you arrived at the community theatre to visit Hoseok’s mother. She was the head seamstress in the costume department, and Hoseok started interning as her assistant the summer before his senior year. Throughout his tenure at the theatre, Hoseok gained invaluable knowledge and skills about sewing, costuming, and all things theatre.

“Hello, Mama,” Hoseok chirped as he popped his head into the costume shop. “What are you working on today?”

Hoseok’s mother smiled softly while running layers of fabric through her sewing machine. Yards and yards of colorful silks and satin were draped across her mannequins and you marveled at the scene before you.

“Hello, my son,” Mrs. Jung replied after lifting her needle and cutting away the excess from the garment she was working on. “I’m prepping costumes for the next musical production that is set to start in about a month. It’s going to be a large cast, so I need to have some starter costumes ready for fittings. What about you two? To what do I owe this honor?

“We have a project for our Theatre class,” Hoseok explained. “I was hoping I could convince my wonderful mother to help me make some costumes.”

Mrs. Jung chuckled slightly and walked over to an empty mannequin to drape the newly sewn garment. She began pinning more pieces to the costume and she motioned in your direction to get more pins, which you quickly brought to her.

“Thank you, dear,” she said while pinching your cheek playfully. “It’s so lovely having someone around who helps me instead of demanding more work in my already busy schedule.”

“Mama,” Hoseok whined cutely. “You know I would do this on my own if I could-”

“Well, that’s wonderful,” Mrs. Jung cheered. “I’m so glad that you’ve finally realized your potential, son. Use whatever you need in the shop, but please try to stay out of my way. Mama has a big production coming up and these costumes are excessively complicated to create. I’m so proud of you, Hoseokie.”

With a pat on his chin, Mrs. Jung was able to help Hoseok close his dropped jaw and she tossed a wink your way as she walked into her supply closet. Hoseok dropped his head in defeat and pouted as he walked toward you.

“I guess we’re on our own, baby,” Hoseok grumbled. “I thought for sure she’d help me out with some ideas.”

“Hobi, didn’t you hear her?” you admonished softly. “She knows you can do this on your own, and besides, she’s hella busy right now. I think we can do this, yeah?”

Hoseok sighed and sank into a seat at the spare drafting table in the costume shop. All throughout the summer, this station was his little creative corner. The two of you had even written your names on the wall by his station, complete with hearts and flowers. You glanced at the empty table and decided to help your grumpy honey along with his creative process.

You grabbed a sketch pad and several pencils from a nearby shelf and placed them on the table in front of him. When he refused to budge, you took up a pencil and started sketching out stick figures with your amateur drawing skills. Under each figure, you wrote the words “Prince” and “Princess” and looked up at him with your imploring eyes.

“Ok, Hobi, here’s the deal,” you began. “I will be your assistant seamstress if you can design us some costumes fit for royalty. If we’re going to put so much effort into this project, we might as well get more use out of these costumes. Let’s make them so nice that we can wear them to Prom. This will be our couple’s costume!”

“I thought you were against the couple's costumes,” Hoseok challenged. “Weren’t you just giving me grief about this at school, my love?”

“I was challenging the committee’s lack of inclusion, not the couple’s costumes,” you corrected. “Besides, we’re a couple. We should go as a matching pair. Just us.”

Hoseok sighed and pulled you into his arms with a whiny groan. You could actually feel him smiling into the crook of your neck, so you allowed him a little time to get all the exaggerated dismay out of his system. After planting a kiss on your forehead, Hoseok finally relented and grabbed the pencil out of your hand.

“Ok, fine,” he grumbled playfully. “I’ll design us some fairytale/Prom outfits, but I need something to go off of. Break out those books you got from the library and let’s pick our royal pair.”

Mrs. Jung wandered out as you were perusing the books next to the workstation and when she looked over Hoseok’s shoulder to see him sketching out foundational design concepts, she hummed thoughtfully.

Hoseok stopped drawing and tapped his pencil on the table, signaling his slight annoyance at his mother’s hovering.

“Yes, Mama?” Hoseok asked sweetly. “Did you want to say something?”

“Oh, no, sweetheart,” Mrs. Jung assured him. “I was just looking at your sketches. What is your project exactly?”

“We have to perform a fairytale for the elementary students,” you explained. “But we also want to use the costumes for Prom, so I’m trying to find a prince and princess pair for us in one of these books.”

“I see,” Mrs. Jung responded. “Did you find a Korean fairytale then?”

“Not yet,” you replied. “I’m still looking.”

“Really?” Mrs. Jung replied with a tilt of her head. “Then why is Hoseokie drawing a hanbok?”

You stepped over to look at Hoseok’s drawing, and sure enough, there was a figure wearing a stylish hanbok on the page. Hoseok tilted his head in confusion at his drawing and shrugged with a giggle.

“Just drawing what I know, I guess,” Hoseok grinned. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Hobi,” you smiled. “That actually looks beautiful. Do you want me to find a Korean fairytale then?”

“Oh, you won’t find many Korean fairytales about princes or princesses, my dear,” Mrs. Jung explained. “Our culture doesn’t have a Cinderella or a Snow White. It’s a shame, really. You would look radiant in a hwarot, sweetheart, and my Hoseokie would look so dashing in a classic hanbok.”

“Well, maybe they don’t have to be a part of the story,” you suggested. “Maybe Hoseok and I can just dress up as Korean royalty and recite a Korean fairytale like that?”

“Hey, that’s a great idea,” Hoseok beamed. “I could make our costumes look amazing and we can just act like royal storytellers.”

“And then we can wear the costumes to Prom!” you gushed. “Oh, Hobi, it’s perfect.”

“Thank you, Mama,” Hoseok called out as Mrs. Jung made her way back to the sewing machine.

“For what?” Mrs. Jung smirked. “I didn’t do anything.” ------------------

After a few days of sketching, Hoseok finally had two amazing designs prepared for your costumes. His traditional hanbok had a few modern embellishments and he was planning all sorts of accessories to accent the outfit completely. Additionally, Hoseok scoured Korean history books for images and designs for a proper hwarot that only a Korean princess could wear. Side by side, the outfits were going to look phenomenal, and you were so excited to start making them.

Hoseok already had his own measurements, and you were eager for him to take your measurements so he could start pulling fabric for your gown. Mrs. Jung set aside several bolts of colorful fabric that Hoseok noticed were reflecting the colors of the Korean flag. Bold royal blue silk and vibrant red brocade joined piles of black satin, gold ribbons, and delicate strands of beads surrounding Hoseok’s workstation.

You arrived at the theatre after your marching band rehearsal, and you hoped that Hoseok didn’t mind that you were dressed in shorts and a baggy T-shirt. Once you entered the costume shop, your worries were allayed when Hoseok handed you a simple muslin tunic to put on.

“You’re going to have to wear this under the hwarot,” Hoseok explained. “I’ll be able to get better measurements this way. Don’t worry if it’s loose. The other garments will layer over it.”

You slipped away to the dressing room to change and when you returned, Hoseok was nowhere to be found. You wandered around backstage and eventually came across the empty stage with the ghost light shining brightly across the theatre. Light classical music could be heard from the backstage area, and you couldn’t help swaying and spinning in time with the music.

As you made your way across the stage, you imagined you were performing for a packed audience and your movements increased dramatically. You fictionalized a ballet where you were seeking out your lost love, and you focused on the ghost light stand as your absent prince. You ended your impromptu performance by embracing the ghost light and were startled by sudden applause emanating from the wings.

“Bravo, princess,” Hoseok called out. “Magnificent!”

You swiped at your burning cheeks and pranced into the wings to bury your face into his shoulder. As embarrassed as you were, Hoseok knew better than to tease you for too long. You pulled back and pouted at his brilliant smile, which prompted him to assault your face with a dozen kisses. You giggled at first, but the lighthearted feeling in your chest shifted into something steamier as Hoseok nipped at the sensitive spot on your neck. You pulled him back behind the curtain and proceeded to devour his lips hungrily.

You half expected Hoseok to put a stop to your lustful advances, but there was something different about Hoseok now. His hands were not resting tentatively on your hips, but were grasping at your skin and sliding back against your ass. His hips refused to keep their distance, instead choosing to grind against your stomach, revealing a hearty erection. His voice lacked any of the whiny nature you usually heard, but instead housed a deep growl which sent shivers down your spine.

“Hobi,” you whispered. “What’s gotten into you?”

“It’s this slip you have on, princess,” Hoseok explained while nibbling on your ear. “It’s practically sheer under those lights. You have no idea how incredible you looked dancing around like that.”

“Oh yeah?” you gasped as he reached up to fondle your breast. “Did you like what you saw?”

“You have no idea,” Hoseok groaned. “It was so hot. I just want to keep touching you. Maybe unwrap you like a birthday present?”

You moaned lightly at his suggestion and reached between you to grip the stiffness pressing against your stomach. Hoseok’s hips shot forward and he stilled completely in your arms.

Before he could refuse, you reached in and took a hold of his hardened length and began stroking it slowly. Hoseok braced his arms against the wall and huffed out a groan at your ministrations. Sensing that this needed to be something quick, you dropped to your knees and wrapped your lips around the strained head of his penis. Hoseok’s moan was muffled as he buried his face into arm, and he restrained his hips from thrusting forward as you brought him to his climax effortlessly.

Hoseok still marveled at your insistence of swallowing while going down on him, but he respected your decision. Who was he to argue if your main concern was cleaning up an unnecessary mess? Hoseok helped you back to your feet and sought out your lips, not even caring that he could taste his own cum in your mouth. As hot and heavy as things were getting, one of you needed to get a grip on the situation before you got busted.

“Shit,” Hoseok breathed out while leaning his forehead against your own. “We can’t do this, princess.”

“I know, Hobi,” you sighed out airily. “You’re right. We shouldn’t be fooling around in the theatre. Your mom would kill us.”

“I mean, yeah, you’re right, she would,” Hoseok chuckled. “But I meant that I’m still not ready to go any further.”

“Hobi,” you replied with worry. “I wasn’t trying to pressure you into anything, my love. I told you I would wait and I meant it.”

“I know,” Hoseok grumbled. “But a few more minutes of this and I won’t be able to control myself, so we need to stop.”

"Oh, yeah?" you smirked. "What happened to all that self control of yours? Did you lose it somewhere?"

"Yeah," Hoseok sighed while gripping your hips. "It went out the window when I saw you in this slip, princess."

You pressed one last kiss to Hoseok’s lips and you straightened out your clothing before heading back to the costume shop. You both stopped at the bathroom to freshen up and then strolled back to the costume shop hand in hand.

The rest of the afternoon was ripe with sexual tension, and every time Hoseok’s fingers danced across your skin as he took your measurements, you fought the urge to shiver or whine or make any kind of sound that would sound sensual in any way. Hoseok was also struggling while on his knees in front you, inhaling the faint smell of your arousal through the thin muslin.

After that sexually charged work session, you and Hoseok agreed to go out for dinner, but first, you both ended up in the backseat of your car with your legs over his shoulders and his tongue buried in your dripping cunt. Several orgasms later, you were both satiated and decided to end the night with a quick bite to eat at your favorite drive-in restaurant. While you were stealing some of his curly fries, you noticed a pensive look on Hoseok’s face.

“What’s the matter, Hobi?” you asked. “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah,” Hoseok stated unconvincingly. “It’s fine.”

“Hobi,” you sighed. “What is it? You can tell me.”

Hoseok's shoulders sagged as he put his half-eaten burger on the dashboard and turned toward you in his seat. You followed his lead and did the same, apprehension clouding your mind as you took in the furrowed brows on your boyfriend’s face.

“Are you happy with me, princess?” Hoseok murmured quietly. “Are you sure that I’m enough for you?”

“What are you talking about, Hobi?” you blurted out. “Of course, I’m happy with you! I love you so much, and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“I know you love me,” Hoseok pouted. “And I love you too, but sometimes, I feel like maybe you wish I could give you more. I know we’ve already talked about this a lot, but it still bothers me when I pull away from you like I did earlier.”

“Baby,” you cooed. “Have I ever given you any indication that I’m not totally satisfied in our relationship?”

“No,” Hoseok admitted. “But I know you’re used to more than what I’m giving you. I know you and Taehyung were very active, and I feel like I could never measure up to him. I mean, you guys call each other soulmates. How am I not supposed to wonder whether he could give you more than I can?”

You leaned forward and cupped Hoseok’s face with your hands. The distress on his face was unbearable and you resisted the urge to plant a million kisses on his face so that you could assuage his grief.

“Soulmate or not, Taehyung is not you,” you reminded him. “I love you, Jung Hoseok, and it doesn’t matter that you’re a virgin and I’m not. You are all I need, and you have nothing to prove to me or anyone else. Just be you, Hobi. That is more than enough for me.”

Hoseok took a deep breath and nodded as best he could with his face squished between your palms. You smiled at the glimmer of hope in his eyes and you prayed that he believed the truth of your words. You leaned in to press a kiss onto his lips and when you pulled away, his face broke into a vibrant smile. The glassy look in his eyes confirmed that he was on the verge of tears and you hated that he was torturing himself unnecessarily. You grabbed a napkin and tried to dab at the corners of his eyes, but he wrapped his slender fingers around your wrist

“I’m ok, princess,” Hoseok assured you. “I’m just so happy that you feel that way. I know I get a little insecure about our physical relationship, but you never fail to make me feel so loved and wanted. Thank you for that.”

With a kiss to your wrist, Hoseok released the tension he’d been holding in his shoulders in a long exhale. He took the napkin from your hand and dabbed at his misty eyes comically to drain his lashes of the tears he’d been holding back. You couldn’t help but laugh at his attempt at comedy in the midst of your serious discussion, but that was your Hoseok.

Such an amazing person. How did I get so lucky? ------------------

“Can you hand me that black ribbon, princess?” Hoseok called out from behind the mannequin. “The velvet one, not the satin one.”

You grabbed the three black ribbons that looked like velvet and offered them to Hoseok, who was kneeling and pinning ribbons to the back of his hanbok. He looked up at you and grinned at the options you displayed in your hands. After grabbing one of the spools, he shook his head and started pinning more ribbon to the flowing fabric.

“Do we need to review fabrics again, princess?” Hoseok joked. “Didn’t we cover this over the summer?”

“Hobi,” you groaned. “A lot of these ribbons look the same. How am I supposed to keep them all straight? That’s your job.”

He simply chuckled and snipped the ribbon on the spool before pinning the last bit of ribbon on the edge of the hanbok’s hem. As he stood, he examined the other bits of fabric and ribbon pinned to his creation and hummed in satisfaction. He emerged from behind the mannequin and set down his sewing supplies on the workstation. After pulling you into a back hug, he leaned his head on your shoulder and sighed happily.

“So, what do you think, princess?” he questioned playfully. “Do you like it? Is this what you imagined your prince wearing?”

You dragged your gaze across the bold colors, the clever embellishments, and the hint of modern flair that Hoseok managed to imbue into his creation and you were astonished. You knew he was skilled, but this latest creation was beyond anything you’d expected. His hanbok was worthy of being displayed in a museum; such intricacy, such craftsmanship, such finery.

“It’s perfect, Hobi,” you exhaled. “You truly are a master at this.”

“I’d say so,” piped up a voice from the corner of the room.

You and Hoseok turned to look over at Mrs. Jung who was hanging up another one of her prepped costumes on a hanger. It was magnificent and you were dazzled by the brilliant green and yellow accents she’d applied to the blue skirting. She brushed away a few wrinkles and stepped forward to look at her son’s garment.

“The line work is very good, Hoseokie,” she complimented. “I like how you took the original design and made it your own. A lot of heart went into this, I can tell. Well done, my son.”

“Thank you,” Hoseok beamed. “I can’t take all the credit though. I had an amazing teacher.”

Mother and son smiled brilliantly at each other before stepping forward for a tight hug. Mrs. Jung pulled a handkerchief from her apron and gently dabbed at her eyes. Hoseok cleared his throat awkwardly and sniffled slightly before lifting his mother’s free hand into his own. Their eyes met and glowed with affection and unbridled respect.

“Eomma,” Hoseok addressed his mother kindly. “Thank you for teaching me everything. I only hope that I can reproduce a fraction of your passion and talent. You inspire me to do great things, and I can’t tell you how grateful I am for all of the time we spend in this shop together.”

“Jung Hoseok,” his mother smiled. “It is not your talent which brings me pride. It is the dedication to your work which makes me happy. You’re an artist, son. I only sought to nurture the skills you already possessed naturally.”

Hoseok kissed her hand and she ruffled his hair before going back across the room and into the storage closet. You grabbed another tissue and dabbed at the tears which manifested while watching the tender moment between mother and son. Hoseok smiled softly at your emotional reaction and pulled you into his arms to soothe your tears.

“There, there, princess,” he said sweetly. “You don’t have to cry on my account.”

“I’m not,” you pouted. “That was just incredibly moving. You and your mom are #LifeGoals. I don’t have that kind of relationship with my mom.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok agreed. “But you do get all mushy and sweet with your dad. I’ve seen it firsthand.”

“I guess you’re right,” you relented. “I don’t know how you’re going to be able to finish my outfit. This one took you quite some time to complete and it isn’t even sewn together yet. Are you sure we didn’t take on too much, Hobi?”

“Not to worry, princess,” Hobi grinned. “Your hwarot was done yesterday.”

Hoseok stepped around you and pulled a sheet off of the mannequin behind you. You gasped at the glory he revealed and reached out a trembling hand to run your fingers across the royal blue satin of the bodice.

“Oh, Hobi,” you whispered. “It’s breathtaking.”

You explored the various folds of blue fabric, the silver brocade accents, the black ribbons sewn into the bodice creating a fitted curvature that stepped away from traditional and spoke of a modern interpretation of the original design. The hwarot he’d sketched originally was an exact replica of the designs in the history books, but this new iteration was unique and fresh while still maintaining the original structure of the gown.

“How did you come up with this design, Hobi?” you cooed. “It’s amazing.”

“Well, I started out with the original design,” Hoseok explained. “But honestly, I just kept thinking about you in that slip dancing around the stage. I couldn’t get your curves out of my head, so I decided to highlight them a little with those lines on the bodice. You were my inspiration, princess.”

You blushed under his praise and stepped behind the hwarot to look at the intricate lacing on the back of the bodice. The collar of the hwarot remained intact, but there was a large section under the collar that was left open. The bodice started lacing just above where your bra line started and continued down to the hip line before billowing out thanks to the petticoat underneath.

“This is the most incredible costume I’ve ever seen, Hobi,” you gushed. “I can’t get over how gorgeous it is.”

Hoseok reached over and took your hands into his own before kissing the tops of both. You smiled as brought you closer to him, pulling your hands to his chest.

“A gorgeous gown for my gorgeous princess,” Hoseok grinned. “The only thing more beautiful than this gown is you, my love. I can’t wait to see you in it.”

With a final kiss to your forehead, Hoseok stepped back to his hanbok and began pulling it off the mannequin so he could start sewing everything together. You changed into your muslin slip and Mrs. Jung took a few moments to help you into the completed hwarot, much to Hoseok’s pleasure. The compliments and praise showered upon you and Hoseok brought unimaginable joy to Mrs. Jung and she quickly excused herself once again to dab away the tears from her face.

After both outfits were sewn together and a final fitting took place, you and Hoseok gathered your things and gave Mrs. Jung a heartfelt goodbye. Your presentation was less than a week away and Prom was happening immediately after that. It was time to get ready to premiere Hoseok’s greatest creation. --------------------

“You guys were amazing today,” Hyejin gushed. “The kids loved your presentation. My little brother was talking to all of his friends about it.”

“Thanks,” you cheered while carefully arranging your hwarot into its garment bag. “It was so much fun. Hobi is such a ham. He was a hit as the goofy prince.”

“And you were the envy of every girl in our class,” Hyejin sighed. “That dress is absolutely gorgeous. I still can’t believe that he sewed your outfits himself. The man is crazy talented.”

“Tell me about it,” you giggled. “It’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?” came a voice from the hallway. “Are you talking about me, princess?”

Hoseok appeared with his garment bag and another tote full of accessories. As you finished packing up your gown, he collected the various props you’d placed on the desk.

“I was talking about you, my prince,” you cooed. “You were incredible today.”

“Thank you, thank you,” he beamed while bowing with a red plush dragon in his hand. “If I was incredible, then you were superb, princess. The kids loved you and I can confidently say that we aced that presentation.”

“Well, I’ve gotta head to practice,” Hyejin announced while gathering her things. “I’ll see you guys at Prom tomorrow.”

You both said your goodbyes to Hyejin as she skipped out the door and you zipped up your garment bag after folding the last yard of fabric inside and securing the hanger. Hoseok placed the last bauble into his tote and zipped it up as well. He looked over at you and opened his arms comically.

“Come here, princess,” he demanded. “Give your prince a hug.”

You leaned into his embrace and the two of you just held each other for a few moments, allowing the excitement of the afternoon to dwindle into a pleasant buzz. You leaned your head back to look into Hoseok’s face and the two of you smiled as your eyes met.

“I’m so proud of you, Hobi,” you said. “You never cease to amaze me. I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”

“I’m the lucky one, princess,” Hoseok corrected while tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “I get to have this incredible, beautiful, sexy girl in my life. You make me feel so loved. I just wish you could understand how much you mean to me.”

You shook your head at his sentiment and kissed his lips. As you pulled away, he continued to look at you like the answers to the universe were in your eyes.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze, you giggled and booped him on the nose before turning to gather your things. You turned to see Hoseok staring at you fondly with hooded lids and a devious smirk.

"What, Hobi?" you pried. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"No reason," Hoseok shrugged. "Just thinking about how beautiful my princess looked in that gown. I can't wait to see you in it tomorrow at Prom."

"Well," you teased while pinching his cheek playfully. "I will make sure that I am very careful when I get dressed tomorrow. I want to look extra special for my prince."

Hoseok waited until you were almost to the door before he reached over to grab his bags.

"You be careful putting it on," he murmured quietly, just out of earshot. "I'll be careful taking it off."

You missed the mischievous smirk on Hoseok's face because as soon as you turned around, it was replaced by a glowing smile.

"Let's go, princess," Hoseok chirped. "I have a lot to do before tomorrow and so do you."

Hoseok placed another lingering kiss on your lips and headed down the hallway next to you.

It's time. ------------------

The lights were flashing and the music was pulsating throughout the ballroom. After posing for your Prom portraits and making the rounds to all your friends, you and Hoseok were seated with a random assortment of refreshments.

"Isn't it wonderful, Hobi?" you gushed. "You and the committee did an amazing job. Everyone looks so good in their outfits!"

"Not as good as you look, princess," Hoseok commented. "Not one person holds a candle to you tonight."

'It's all because of you Hobi," you exclaimed. "You created a masterpiece when you made these outfits."

"Only because you were my Muse," Hoseok purred. "Care to dance, princess? Let's show off my inspiration to everyone."

You nodded enthusiastically and took his hand as he escorted you to the dance floor. The music transitioned into a thumping R&B tune and Hoseok pulled your arms around his neck as he swiveled and gyrated his hips to the sultry beat. You hummed with satisfaction as his thigh pressed in between your legs, mere inches from your center.

You were both sweaty with exertion and when the R&B groove gave way to a slow melodic love song, you both breathed a sigh of relief.

"Whew," you breathed out. “That was fun, but I need a minute to catch my breath.”

“Already, princess?” Hoseok teased. “I thought you’d have more stamina than that.”

You pouted and smacked his arm playfully and his giggles filled your ears deliciously. With the multicolored lights bouncing across the dance floor and the light dusting of imitation fog, you twirled around the dance floor with your handsome prince. He spun you around once again and you couldn’t keep yourself from smiling at his sparkling eyes and buoyant smile. When the song switched to another slow song, you sighed happily and leaned your head on his shoulder.

“Once more around the ballroom, princess?” Hoseok asked sweetly. “Or are you done making everyone else jealous with your unparalleled beauty?”

You nodded against his shoulder and he waltzed the two of you into a shadowy corner of the dance floor. You were in the midst of soaking up this romantic moment when Hoseok’s hands began to wander into the silken folds of your gown and your breath hitched when his fingers found your center.

“Hobi,” you squeaked. “What are you doing?”

“You look incredible in that gown, princess,” he breathed out huskily. “I can only imagine how you’d look without it on.”

Your eyes widened significantly and you pulled back to look at Hoseok’s face. Full blown lust was darkening his gaze and the dimples around his lips deepened as he grinned. You’d seen your boyfriend aroused before, but this was something else entirely.

“Hobi,” you exhaled shakily. “What’s gotten into you?”

His smile softened and he leaned in to kiss your lips gently, raising a hand behind your neck to hold you in place as you shared the sweetest collection of kisses he had to offer.

“Princess,” he murmured against your lips. “This past year with you has been one of the happiest of my life. I can’t even remember what my life was like before you were in it.”

“Oh, Hobi,” you shivered. “You make me happy too. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too” Hoseok whispered into your ear. “In fact, I love you so much that I might have built up this impossible image in my mind that you are untouchable and precious. So precious that you will break if I push you too hard.”

“I’m not a delicate little flower, Hobi,” you grumbled. “And you haven’t been pushing me at all. If anything, I feel like I’m the one pushing you sometimes.”

“Absolutely not,” Hoseok snapped. “You’ve been nothing but patient and understanding, and I am so grateful that you allowed me to come to terms with my virginity on my own.”

“Hobi,” you whined. “I don’t care if you’re a virgin. I already told you that. We don’t have to do anything just because I have before. I just want to be with you. That’s all I need.”

“I know,” Hoseok sighed. “And it only makes me love you more.”

Hoseok punctuated his statement with another kiss to your lips, lingering on your bottom lip and nibbling on it hungrily. You were thankful for the lack of lighting in this corner and the excess fog collected around you. You didn’t want to get kicked out of Prom for making out with your boyfriend on the dance floor.

“I know this is going to sound totally cliché,” Hoseok murmured against your lips. “But I really want to make this prom night memorable. I think I’m ready to make love to you, princess. Will you let me show you just how much I love you?”

You shivered with excitement and took a moment to fully appreciate the look on his face, your thighs clenching at the unbidden desire pulsing in his dilated pupils, and you bit your lip with anticipation.

“Yes, Hobi,” you smiled demurely. “I’m ready.”

Before the music could stop playing, you wandered back to your table to gather your things. After a quick stop at the bathroom, you walked back into the parking lot toward Hoseok’s vehicle. Your options were limited since you were both still high school students living at home, so Hoseok made a split second decision and drove toward the coast. --------------------------

“Hand me that other blanket, princess,” Hoseok instructed. “Go ahead and take off your shoes. You can leave them in the front seat.”

As Hoseok laid yet another blanket in the back, you thanked the gods for his SUV and the seats that folded down to a nice level plane. After layering a few fluffy blankets from your last camping trip, there was a nice layer of comfort for you both to lay on. Once you discarded your shoes and accessories, Hoseok was careful to undress and hang his outer layers across the back windows. He helped you do the same and stretched your gown across the front seats so that you were tented in with the vibrant colors of the Korean flag.

Hoseok’s undershirt and boxers were clinging to his body with perspiration, and he couldn’t keep his eyes from roving across your own body covered with that simple muslin slip. With practiced precision, he reached down and ran his fingers from your exposed ankle all the way up to the slit across your thigh.

“I’ve been waiting to touch you in this slip since that day I caught you dancing in the theatre,” Hoseok admitted. “You were so intoxicating in that spotlight, your curves clearly visible under this thin material for my eyes only. I think I fell for you all over again that day.”

You shuffled closer and placed your hand on his cheek, shivering when his palm slid further up your thigh to your hip.

“I fall for you every day, Hobi,” you replied. “I feel so precious and desirable when I’m with you.”

“You should always feel like that,” Hoseok insisted. “Because that’s what you are, princess. Precious and the only thing that I truly desire.”

As soon as those words left Hoseok’s lips, he pulled you closer so he could devour your lips, his hand tangling into your hair while the other pushed your slip up further. In between heated kisses, you both began discarding your remaining articles of clothing until you were both left completely bare, grinding against each other in search of friction.

“Wait, princess,” Hoseok gasped as your hand wrapped around his stiff length. “Let me get the condoms.”

Hoseok reached between the seats and pulled out a 12-pack of condoms from his tote. Your eyes widened at the extra large pack, and you gawked at the open box that was clearly only half full.

“Umm, Hobi,” you queried. “What happened to all the other condoms in that box?”

“Oh,” Hoseok grumbled. “I wanted to get some practice putting one on and it took a few tries to get it right.”

You giggled at his embarrassment and kissed his flushed cheeks. Once the passion reignited, you were both fumbling with the foil square, trying to get it open and onto his swollen dick.

“Hold on, princess,” Hoseok groaned. “I want to make sure you’re ready for me.”

Hoseok shifted further down and latched onto your hardened nipple while dipping his slender fingers into your flooded depths. After stroking your clit and inserting not one, not two, but three fingers into you, Hoseok shuffled his body in between your legs and then paused. His heavy breathing was either a product of his passion or his lingering anxiety. You were about to reassure him that there was no need to rush, but he started rubbing the tip of his penis along your folds and you lost all sense of reason.

“Fuck, Hobi,” you moaned. “That feels so good. Don’t stop.”

“I have no intention of stopping,” Hoseok groaned. “In fact, I think I want more, princess.”

Hoseok shifted his hips forward and slipped into your hot center, earning him an even louder moan from you. You arched your back and encouraged him to thrust even deeper into you, which proved to be his breaking point.

“Shit,” Hoseok growled. “This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt. How the fuck did I go so long without doing this with you, princess?”

He pulled back and slammed forward with more force and the high pitched “Hobi” you released made him grin.

“That’s right, princess,” Hoseok encouraged. “Let it all out. Tell the world who’s making you feel this good. Tell them who you belong to.”

Once the initial shock wore off, Hoseok found that his body and yours were a perfect fit. The more he gave, the more you took, the two of you fitting together like puzzle pieces, his hips continuously snapping into you, his hands gripping your ass and shoulder for leverage, your nails digging into his back with delicious licks of pain, your legs wrapped around his waist, your voice begging for more.

He was so enthralled with you, and he completely ignored any indicators that his body was heading toward any type of climax. Usually, he’d blow his load after you’d blown him for a few minutes or after you’d given him a short hand job. But now, he unearthed a mountain of stamina and only your cries of pleasure captured his attention. There was no way you were ending this night until he’d given you several orgasms. His own pleasure was shelved to serve you and nothing else mattered.

Once you were both sated, you cuddled against his sweaty chest trying to catch your breath after so much exertion. Hoseok trailed his fingers up and down your back and continued to kiss every inch he could reach. You never felt so revered or loved before.

“This really was the perfect evening,” you commented. “I wish it could last forever.”

“Forever?” Hoseok inquired. “Is that what my princess wants? Then that’s what I’ll give her.”

You hummed your assent and lifted your head to kiss him again. The hazy look in his eyes was a testament to his love and you thanked the gods for blessing you with such an amazing man in your life. The night was indeed memorable and you were somewhat disappointed when you had to put your clothes back on so he could take you home.

“Come on, princess,” Hoseok coaxed. “Our parents will kill us if we stay out all night. We’re already going to be late as it is.”

“I know,” you grumbled while pulling on your underwear. “I just feel like I won’t get many more of these nights with you. You’re graduating in a few months and then you’re leaving me to go to college.”

“Don’t say it like that, princess.” Hoseok admonished. “You only have one more year left and then you’ll be doing the same. There is a lot of time between now and when I have to leave. We’ll figure something out.”

“You promise?” you pouted.

“I promise,” Hoseok chuckled as he kissed your pouty lips. “Now, let’s get you home.”

You drove off away from the coast with the windows down, trying to air out the smell of sweat and sex from his vehicle. Once you pulled back into town, you raised the windows so you could fix your hair. If anyone saw you walking in with “sex hair,” you’d never hear the end of it. You took another glance at Hoseok, eyeing the flush of color dusting across his face after your sexual escapade, and you smiled.

Such a handsome prince. I hope nothing ever pulls us apart. I don’t know if I’d be able to handle that.

You pulled his hand into your own and looked out at the flashing landscape. Prom night may have been cliché, but no one could convince you that it hadn’t been perfect.

Author’s Note: Just a little drabble for the biggest ball of sunshine in the world! Thank you to my lovely soulmate @xxxille-girlxxx for helping me beta read this. Enjoy a little slice of hope with me ^-^

MAP OF THE SOUL MASTERLIST

@caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma‘s MASTERLIST

#Map of the soul #bts drabble #Jung HoSeok #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts au fic #BTS au #bts angst #prom #hobi smut

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softjeon · 4 years

Text

Here there be beasts | Final

• Pairing: Jimin x Wolf!Namjoon • Genre: Angst, Fluff | Rating: Mature | RedRidingHood!AU / Fairytale!AU → Gifset Trailer • Words: 10k | AO3 • Disclaimer: nsfw-content, smut, mentioning of blood, abuse, violence, weapons, dark themes, anxiety

written with @cassiavioletblue

↳ Fear was a strange feeling. People feared the unknown, the dark and witchcraft. The shadows that were lurking through the forest at night. The same fear that made the folks in the village keep their distance from the forest at night; that locked their doors on nights when there was a full moon, or no moon at all.

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The sun was low in the sky and it was noticeably cooler than it had been earlier in the day as he came to a halt. He let his gaze wander over the houses that were made out of grey stone, with slate roofs and dull now in the evening sun but glistened whenever it was wet from the rain. It was plain. The church had a spire and was stone built like the village houses. Small square windows, hanging baskets filled with wilted flowers that probably no one had cared for in their fear of staying outside for too long. It was eerily quiet, the fear noticeably in every corner.

They only came out when it was day, some were so terrified that they were afraid to speak. They told stories about how the old man had been ripped into pieces that not even his body could be found anymore. Just a few droplets of blood on the grass. The beast had swallowed him whole. The wolf. He could hear their whispers about him and how it would eat up anybody who was walking around the village at night.

Jimin chuckled and yet, it was a fearful one. He had seen the dark eyes, the change that was clear as the night as when he had looked into the wolf’s eyes on a full moon. He had been scared of him for a moment. Jimin could feel a headache settling in, the confusion making him question everything and it felt like his own mother and grandmother knew more that they wanted to lead on. And they never told him, played games and gave him riddles but Jimin couldn’t find the answers. He walked up to alley and stared into the distance, trying to ease his mind. On summer days, Jimin loved to go up to the top of the small hill and sat against the middle tree overlooking the village. It was usually in the morning, when it was still quiet, hardly any sound was audible. He loved that place – but he wouldn’t miss it. In the village you live close to your neighbors and everybody knew everybody’s business and their families and predilections. And he wanted to leave it all behind.

Jimin unlocked the door to his house and walked in. With a sigh, he plopped down regretting the quick movement right away when he got reminded what he had been doing all night with Namjoon. He hissed, though with a smile and couldn’t help but laugh at himself. There was one answer he knew he had: he would be safe with Namjoon. There was no wolves. No beasts. With him he would be protected. And he was sure he could get away from the nightmare. Being so lost in his mind, Jimin didn’t notice when the door opened behind him.

“What happened?” The sudden strong grip around his waist, made Jimin flinch and jump around, meeting Honsung’s questioning gaze. “I…I slipped on some wet stone this morning,” He rubbed his bottom to underline his statement, “It’s going to be a bit bruised up.” Jimin was proud of his quick lie, giving Honsung a smile to show that he was fine. He patted his chest a little awkwardly, trying to get a little space between them.

“You were out again, weren’t you? During the night, while the beast fed on that man. Was that it? Did you want to watch? What is it that makes you get yourself in danger like that? Are you bored? Do you need a little more excitement in your life? Cause if it’s that I can give you that!” He pulled Jimin roughly towards him. “There will be no more going out, do you understand me? Not at night, not during the day, none at all! The attacks get more frequent, but you don’t even know half of them because instead of participating in the village life and talking to other people you always hang out in the woods. Don’t you want to have friends, Jimin? Talk to people other than yourself? People are talking you know. You’ve always been a little weird, but it’s gotten out of hand lately. And you can’t only think about yourself. This reflects back on me as well. I’m trying to get far, to make it to someone higher up the food chain - and you’ll benefit from that too. But the way things are going right now no one will lay their trust into someone who’s affiliated with a suicidal psycho.”

Jimin gawked, blinking his eyes as he tried to follow what Honsung was telling him. “N-none? But…Honsung, I can’t…I have to help my grandma, you know that.” He shook his head, not wanting to believe that there had been more attacks while he had been gone. How could he have overseen them? Did he really not see them?

“What are you talking about?” Jimin furrowed his brows, confused and startled as his heart picked up its pace. He was getting nervous the more Honsung was talking, but he couldn’t escape his grip. “Ps-psycho? I’m not…” Jimin pushed against his chest, feeling the anger sitting firing hot under his chest, “If you don’t want to be associated with me then go! You can pick anyone. I’m not holding you back! The neighbors daughter wants you anyways. Take her then! Because you know I can’t keep inside if my grandma is out there and needs my help. You know she is almost blind; she can’t see clearly anymore. And the people in the village should know, too that I am taking care of her. Like a good grandson should do.” He was almost hissing the words, angry that the people thought of him as the weird kid again.

“She will do fine a few days without you! I can bring her some food and whatever else she needs in advance and you stay here. And stop - stop pushing me!” He pushed Jimin back so that the younger fell backwards onto the bed. “Do you really think I could just ignore our engagement? I promised to take care of you because you had no one else but you’re making it really hard right now. This isn’t solely about what I want and who I want to be with, a marriage is as much about duty as it is about pleasure and I can’t just change my mind about my oath just because you decide to be difficult. It just means that I need to be a better husband and help shape you until you’re a character that fits into the community of city.”

Jimin stared in absolute disbelief at the man in front of him, that he thought once knew but showed more and more sides of him that only scared him. There were tears burning behind his eyes, threatening to come forward but Jimin took a deep breath. He had been pushed harshly against the rough edge of his bed, where he barely caught himself and now as he gazed up at Honsung he felt completely loss for words.

“Shape me?” He almost scoffed but tried to push it down to not anger him too much. Jimin didn’t want to know what else he would be capable of. “Let me go to her one last time, please. Just once,” He whispered, avoiding Honsung’s gaze to show him his defeat. “If you love me, then please…”

“Jimin, I have asked you so many times already to not go into the woods. I begged you to take care, I ordered you to not leave the village at night, I tried to talk sense into you over and over again. I don’t trust you anymore. If I let you go who knows if you come back home or maybe you spend a few more nights out there just because you want to. No, you’ll stay here where people can watch you and make sure that you won’t end up dead. I’ll take care of it, like I said I will, because I stick to my word.”

Jimin was shaking as he nodded his head slowly, biting his lip in deep thought as he stared into nothingness. His heart was beating so loudly and so fast that he was scared he was going into a cardiac arrest. Jimin looked up to see where the sun was at the horizon, knowing that in the evening he had promised for Namjoon to come back, to meet him at his grandma’s and to run away, to never come back to the village again. Right now, it seemed almost like an impossible task. Jimin was so far gone in his mind, that he startled heavily when a hand cupped his cheek making him turn towards Honsung. “Why do you love me?” The words slipped from his lips easily but shaky. But he wanted to know so much more: why do you hate me so much? Why do you chose me? Why me? Why does it have to be me?

“Because you’re special, Jimin. Despite all the defiance and the disobedience, I know that deep down you can be good. You want to be good, don’t you? You could make it so much easier for all of us if you just started to trust me like you should.” He leaned in to kiss Jimin’s forehead. “I’ll take care of you, Jimin. You don’t have to fight against anything and everyone any longer. I know what’s best for you. And your grandma will be so happy when she sees that your safe and surrounded by friends and cared for, wouldn’t she? Don’t you want that for yourself too?”

“Yeah,” His voice sounded tired and Jimin felt exhausted, “I just need to see her. Just a few days, promise me. I need to be with her. I don’t know for how much longer she can be around.” Jimin bit his lip, when he saw the deep furrowed his brows and the hesitance in Honsung’s body language. “I’m sorry,” Jimin whispered, meaning so much more than those simple words. I’m sorry that I will make this harder on you, I’m sorry that I’m going to make you angry and I’m sorry that I’m not what you want me to be. And I am sorry that I will run away.

…

Namjoon had no idea that Jimin couldn’t keep his promise. He had started to roam through his pantry, made sure that there would be enough food and necessities for two people to live comfortably for a while. He would also soon make a trip to the next village even though it would be a wolf run away to get Jimin his own things; another plate, a glass - maybe one of those colorful ones that he had seen last time he had visited the market there it had been so pretty and would hopefully make Jimin happy. He wasn’t trying to sugarcoat things, he knew it wouldn’t been easy, Jimin would have to learn what it meant to live without the comfort he’s had in the village and even though there would be no more people judging him there would be other things to make his life harder. Not to speak of Namjoon who would have to be very, very careful so that Jimin would never find out who exactly he was. He would tell Jimin that he was sleepwalking and that he should in no way be disturbed so that Jimin wouldn’t look for him in case he woke up and found his side of the bed empty. Or maybe he could talk Jimin into letting him give him a mild herbal tea to help him sleep during full moon nights so that he wouldn’t wake up at all.

Whatever way he chose he knew it would be great living with Jimin, he felt it - and he had never felt so scared but so happy at the same time.

…

Jimin was glancing over to the window every five minutes, nervously. He could see a few of Honsung’s friends lingering around his home and he was sure that he had told him to see if Jimin would go out and if he did, to follow him closely. What they didn’t know was, that Jimin knew his way around by now. So, he simply slipped through his back window, leaving everything behind in a heartbeat.

This morning he had thought about packing a few things, but right now it didn’t matter. The sun was about to set, and he was sure Namjoon had been already waiting. Jimin hadn’t even put on his coat. He didn’t need it anymore.

The moment Jimin pulled himself over the wall and jumped down on the other side where he knew it was safe, he felt like he could breathe again – like weight that got lifted off his shoulders. This way he was sure that he was on his right way, because his heart told him so. With a smile on his lips, Jimin’s steps quickened until he was fully running. He could hear the church bells ringing in the background, telling the people to go inside before it would be dark, but he was running even faster.

When his grandma’s house came in view at the end of the path, Jimin was panting, slowing down until he was just walking. The forest was eerily quiet around him, but Jimin didn’t pay it any attention. He was so filled with happiness, with feeling absolutely free in this moment that he didn’t notice it.

Nothing.

Not a sound.

“Grandma?” Jimin’s voice echoed through the woods as he came to a halt in front of her door, fist lifted in an attempt to knock when he noticed the door being ajar. It wasn’t unusual for her to do so, so Jimin simply pushed it open and called for her again. “Are you in the back, Grandma?” Jimin called out again but there was no answer. Instead something else suddenly swallowed him whole, making him halt and froze in his movements completely. His throat constricted at the onslaught of smell that crashed over him. Something was awfully wrong. Something didn’t fit in the picture. Jimin turned around with wide eyes, slowly opening the door to his grandmother’s bedroom, but there was no one. Her blanket was thrown carelessly over as if she had been asleep, but the smell wasn’t as strong here. Jimin looked over his shoulder and gulped as he reached out for the kitchen door with shaking hands. “Please, grandma. This is not funny,” He mumbled more to himself to calm his rapid beating heart as he pushed the door open.

The door stopped after only a few inches because something was blocking it. Or someone. In horror Jimin pushed against it until it finally gave way and he was able to open the door enough to squeeze inside. He wished he hadn’t done that. Halfway behind the door and on the kitchen floor was his grandmother. There was something red all over here and in his shock he first thought it must be tomato juice, that she had slipped with a plate in hand and had spilled the juice all over her.

He kneeled down with shaking fingers, trying to help her up because she had just fallen, and it would be fine if he helped her up. But even his mind in denial couldn’t ignore the deep gashes in her chest and at her throat. Jimin whimpered, “G…grandma? Grandma please, please wake up!” He took her arm to shake her, to wake her up again but the moment he touched her he knew that she was gone. Her arm felt cold and stiff and he flinched back immediately. She was dead.

His grandmother was dead.

Jimin felt like his whole world was spinning. He had seen her alive only days ago, his warm smile and her beautiful eyes and… Jimin coughed, trying to get away from the bloody corpse as he heaved but nothing came out. He was just sobbing, pulling his knees in as he shook from the fear and the shock alike.

She was dead. She was dead. She was dead.

The beast.

Jimin’s eyes widened as he lifted his shaking hands, seeing the blood that was all over. He snapped up when his eyes flickered around the room, trying to find any clues. Something that could tell him what had happened. This hadn’t been an accident. This just couldn’t be. Jimin let out a painful cry, when Honsungs voice pierced through the fog in his mind as he was literally trying to shake the shock out of him, a harsh grip on both of his arms. “Jimin! What happened! Are you okay? Did the wolf hurt you?” He turned his face to see if he was unharmed but Jimin was still a little too dazed to react properly, staring at him as if he couldn’t believe that he was here. “Jimin, talk to me. What happened?” He tried to hug the other but Jimin was lifeless and like a rag doll in his arms. He blinked up his eyes, trying to bring himself back but… his grandma was dead. She was dead. There was blood. So much blood. Jimin could feel himself getting pulled up and he whined helplessly. “Grandma, no, no, she needs me…,” Jimin pushed Honsung away from him, crawling over to where the lifeless body was lying as he reached out. She couldn’t be dead. She just couldn’t.

This was a nightmare.

Blood smeared all over his hands as his eyes flickered over the wounds. A caught of scream came from him, but it didn’t feel like his own when Honsung pulled him away again. “N..no…no,” Jimin barely was able to keep himself up on his feet, teary-eyes making his view blurry. His mind didn’t caught up, everything was moving too fast.

“We need to go Jimin.” If he could choose he preferred the lifeless version of Jimin right now because this version of him, the one that was screaming and trying to push him away to get back to his dead grandmother was hard to handle. “We don’t know how close the wolf is, we need to go before we find out. You don’t want to end like your grandmother, do you? We can send someone to bury her later right now I need you to come with me. We need to get back to the village, behind the walls. We will be safe there. As I tried to tell you so many times already the woods aren’t safe. And now you have proof of what I always told you. Not even the house could help your grandmother against the wolf. He killed her anyway.”

It was like a switch that turned on, when Honsung suddenly started talking about the wolf being the one attacking his grandma when his eyes finally locked with his. “No,” It was only a whisper at first. “It’s not…the wolf,” Jimin cried out as loud as he could as he pushed against Honsung who had pulled him out of the kitchen, “It’s not him! I know it’s not him. Look at the wounds! It’s not an animal…it’s…it’s something else.” Jimin was shaking, mind racing with all the possibilities. Only one thing he knew was true: it wasn’t the wolf. His heart told him so. His gut feeling. Everything in him told him that it wasn’t the animal but something else. Something much crueler that didn’t care about wrong or right and it was making Jimin shiver in fear. His eyes were searching through the room, as he tried to get away from Honsung, holding onto the doorframe like a child that didn’t want to leave it’s room. Blood smeared all over the wallpaper, but Jimin didn’t care as he elbowed Honsung hard to make him let go. “Believe me, please. I’m not crazy! I know it’s not the wolf, trust me! It’s not making any sense”

“You’re talking nonsense, Jimin. Of course, it was the wolf. It couldn’t be anything else.” Honsung’s voice had become sharper and cold as ice but Jimin was too caught up in his pain to notice or else he might have reacted differently. “Stop holding onto the doorframe! She’s dead! You can’t help her! She won’t come alive again just because you’re cowering next to her! Let go goddammit!” He tried to pry Jimin’s hands off the frame, but the younger was making it difficult - until he took Jimin’s wrist and pulled so hard hat the younger cried out in pain and finally let go.

The pain in his wrist was burning so achingly and Jimin had no choice but to stumble along. “No, let go, please. I don’t care then… go without me. I don’t…,” Jimin gulped heavily, sobbing painfully as his knees gave in and he simply let himself fall, “…care anymore!”

Honsung still had a hard grip on Jimin, holding onto him and the sweater that he wore. So, when Jimin slid to the floor his he effectively pulled himself from Honsung’s grip - except for his sweater, that ripped from being stretched between Honsung and Jimin’s body. At first the other did nothing, just stared at him how he was sitting on the floor, a miserable heap. His eyes wandered upwards to where the sweater had ripped and to the formerly flawless skin beneath it. This time however there was nothing flawless about it. There were marks and spots peppered along his collarbone, disappearing under the rest of the sweater that hung on Jimin. Honsung’s eyes hardened as he kneeled down in front of Jimin, ripping his sweater in half to see more of his skin. His hands were starting to shake from anger as he realized that they were exactly what he thought they were: Lovebites. Marks that had been kissed into Jimin’s skin. It hit him completely unprepared but there was no other explanation for it: Jimin had a secret lover.

Jimin sat frozen on the spot, eyes wide as he stared at him. His lips were trembling, but his eyes were dry as he saw Honsung’s gaze darken. The once blue eyes suddenly seemed like darkness had swallowed them whole, staring him down with so much hatred and disgust that Jimin didn’t even want to look down. Jimin opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out.

He didn’t even ask Jimin or waited for him to explain he just hit him, square in the face, the way he should have done it before. He had waited for Jimin to open up to him, to see what he was doing , that he was someone Jimin should be proud to be with, strong and powerful and able to provide for them, for others, for the whole city if he needed to! He was ambitious, passionate, everything someone like Jimin should wish for! And yet Jimin disobeyed him. Over and over and over again. And he had let it slide because he thought sooner or later the other would come around and see what he was missing. Instead he had gone and found himself a lover, letting himself get marked like the filthy little whore he was. When Jimin looked up at him again his lip was split but it didn’t give him any satisfaction. Jimin had made a fool of himself and of Honsung and now his stubborn, defiant, dirty fiancé would have to suffer the consequences. He didn’t let Jimin get up, instead he pushed him down, pressing his shoulders onto the wooden floor.

The slap was still ringing in his ear, stars dancing in front of his eyes as he tried to get a grip of himself fast. Jimin’s conscious was screaming at him to get out of here fast, that something was awfully, awfully wrong when the pain hit him once again. “Let me go! No, you’re hurting me!” Jimin cried out as loud as he could, trying to use his last bit of strength with the adrenaline fueling him to get Honsung off him but the other was just ten times stronger than him. So, Jimin screamed as loud as he could, hoping that it would reach somewhere. That maybe Namjoon was near. Maybe the wolf, that was strolling around, hearing the pain in his voice. Tears were rushing down his cheeks as he struggled against the painful weight.

“Scream as much as you want. No one will hear you. No one is stupid enough to go outside the walls. No one but you.” He pushed down harder until Jimin was breathless from it and he didn’t have to yell against Jimin’s screams to make the other hear him. “I’m glad it hurts. Because you hurt me too, Jimin. You thought I’d never find out, hm? What would you have said to me in our wedding night? Would you have lied, telling me you’re still a virgin? Who is it, Jimin? A woman? A man? Both? Is that how you pass your time when you sneak away from me?” He leaned down and kissed him, hard and brutal, not quite a kiss but rather a sign of dominance. “Why, Jimin? I would have given you everything you needed. You could have lived so comfortably by my side. You could have had a real life! Status and wealth and power. And you gave all that up for sex? I could have given you that too. But you always told me I needed to wait, that you weren’t ready before being married. Another lie, hm? How long did you share my bed, pretending I couldn’t have you because you weren’t ready while someone else had you on your back for them? Tell me!”

Jimin was coughing painfully as he gasped for air each time Honsung pushed onto him, forcing his lips onto him and taking away his breath in a painful way. Making Honsung even more angry probably wasn’t the best choice, but Jimin didn’t want to give in. Never wanted to give in to him. “Y-yes, I did,” Jimin breathed out as he met Honsung’s gaze, “And he loves me, like I love him. You only give me pain and you don’t know what love even is. You’re pathetic! I don’t need status, I don’t need anything, not from you!” Jimin spit Honsung right in the face, using the seconds he was caught off guard to turn and to get back onto his feet as fast as he could.

Jimin’s freedom lasted only a few seconds before Honsung pulled him back down without caring how much he would hurt the other. “You filthy little thing!” He chuckled but there was no joy in it just disdain. “I think you should stay here for a little while. And as you seem to like being on your back for someone I’m sure you don’t mind this.” He leaned over him, gripping his throat so that Jimin couldn’t spit at him again. It didn’t matter that one of Jimin’s hands was free like this because he was holding him down mercilessly and if Jimin wanted to keep breathing then he would have to lay still and obedient. “Such a pity. It will break your lovers heart to hear what has happened in the woods. You visited your grandmother despite my warning and in complete ignorance of the dangerous times we live in. Sadly, for you I was right as I always am and the wolf came and killed your grandmother. Maybe she tried to defend you. Wouldn’t that be a heartbreaking addition to the story? That she tried to protect you from the wolf only to get ripped to pieces in front of your eyes. And then you couldn't handle the guilt, or the wolf got you as well. That little detail is up to you.”

There was a throbbing in his head and something wet was dripping down his forehead as he realized he must have hit his head when Honsung had pulled him down again. He was dizzy, the air getting cut off from him as he tried to get Honsung to let go off him, when he suddenly stopped, and his words got through to him. It was like his heart had stopped beating.

There were no sounds anymore.

Just his breathing was audible, as he looked up into Honsung’s eyes and saw nothing but hatred.

It was as if Honsung knew and a dirty smirk appeared on his lips, one that made Jimin retch as he realized the truth. “Y-you?” Tears welled up in his eyes as he felt like he was free falling. Nothing made sense anymore. Was he lying next to a beast the whole time?

“Yes, my love. Me. Does it hurt to know that your grandma would still be alive if you had just listened to me? I didn't know what a filthy whore you were back then I thought you were really visiting your grandma. I should have known that you weren’t that selfless. You were busy spreading your legs for someone while pretending to be the perfect grandson. Be thankful she didn’t have to find out what you were doing. She would have been so disappointed. I spared her that. I thought I was just eliminating the reason for you to always run in the woods despite my orders. But now I see that it was your rightful punishment to see her dead. And it makes more sense like this when they find your body. You didn’t think you could betray me like that and then just walk away, did you? That’s not how it works, love. Not for you.”

Jimin’s world was falling apart right in front of him. Memories of his mother crying, begging Honsung’s father to not kill the wolf were flashing before his eyes. The same darkness in his father’s that he now found in him. They made the people fear to make them kneel and beg for them to release them from the dangers that were the wolf, while the beast was in the village all along. “No, no…” Jimin screamed out, sobbing as he saw his mother being torn away from him. She had known. “You’re a monster!” He croaked out, kicking at Honsung as hard as he could, but the more he moved the less he could breathe.

“Didn’t you know that people always need a monster? If you don’t give them one they make their own. But you have no idea how to lead, all you know is making trouble. That’ll be over now. It could have been so nice for you, Jimin but you didn’t want it easy. So, this is your fault.” He placed a mocking little kiss on Jimin’s forehead like he had done when he had said good night to Jimin before turning off the lights at home.

Then he tightened his grip to choke Jimin until the end.

Jimin’s eyes were wide and fearful as he stared up in shock, when Honsung went absolutely feral. There was no emotions. Just darkness that Jimin could find as he shook him as if Jimin wasn’t dying fast enough. He was fighting for the last bits of air, trying to reach out and pull his arms away from him. He couldn’t let the darkness win, so Jimin tried to stay calm, tried to do anything to win more time but he had to realize that he had lost this fight, when the shadows were pulling him under.

...

Namjoon had waited a little longer - and then a little longer after that. When he had finally admitted to himself that Jimin wouldn’t come he didn’t know how to feel. Shouldn’t he be relieved that he wouldn’t have to figure out how to hide his nature from someone who lived with him? Should he feel like he should have known Jimin would let him down because that’s what the village people did? It didn’t feel right, nothing did. There was just an emptiness inside of him, a vast space that Jimin had filled and that he had no idea how to fill again now that the other was gone. He felt restless and torn and half did he play with the thought of going into the city himself to ask Jimin, look after him, make sure that he was okay, and that no sickness or accident had kept him from coming. But he had sworn his mother that he would never set a foot into that village and so he stayed true to his vow and kept away from the walls. He couldn’t just go home though. He needed to get rid of this restless energy, needed to clear his head of all the thoughts and pictures that tried to overwhelm him, of him and Jimin and all the things that could have been. He needed a run. And maybe, while he was at it he could also visit Jimin’s grandma? Maybe he was there to tell her that he wouldn’t live in the village any longer and they had started to argue and forgot the time - or maybe she had an idea where he was.

It felt like a relief to change forms, despite the pain and the sickening sound of bones cracking while he turned. Things were easier as a wolf. Emotions were different. And yet his heart still felt empty at the knowledge that Jimin might not come. He gave up all pretense and headed straight to grandma’s home, hoping that he could lend some clothes there or else the chat would be a little awkward but with her eyesight it didn’t really matter that much. He saw the open door the same moment the smell of blood hit him. He growled before he even realized what might have happened but the terror that gripped his heart told him that something was wrong. The blood that had been spilled smelled human. Like the old woman - and like Jimin. He jumped through the door without care or finesse, just recklessly storming in as a dangerous ball of fur and claws and teeth. It only took him a heartbeat to lay his eyes on the man who was sitting on Jimin’s lifeless body, his hands still wrapped around his throat as if Jimin’s didn’t look dead enough for him. He threw his whole body against him, knocking him clean off before sinking his teeth into the man’s flesh. The other screamed but Namjoon didn’t care, he just bit deeper and growled harder until the man was no longer a threat.

Jimin didn’t scream as he got thrown over and air went through his lungs again, but something else hit him as he carelessly got pushed against something hard. He felt like a doll; lifeless and unable to move. But he didn’t even care about the pain anymore. There was air and Jimin was gasping for it like a fish that was out of the water. Blood was dripping down his forehead and cut lip as he tried to blink his eyes and see the scene in front of him. It was a blurry image, but the growling sound was familiar and although it was the most horrifying sound he ever heard coming from the wolf, Jimin felt nothing but calm. A small smile pulled at his lips, while Jimin tried to whisper a ‘thank you’ as the darkness made his eyelids heavier and the imagery vanished but Jimin opened his eyes again when a growl made him startle, only to be drowning again. Maybe it was for the better that he couldn’t see anymore, the sounds too vividly as he shook with it until he fell completely unconscious and the sound of skin ripping, and the smell of blood didn’t faze him no more.

Never in his life did Namjoon change forms so quickly. He was dizzy from it, falling onto his knees but he knew if he wanted to help Jimin he needed hands and a human mouth. He was cold and trembling when he thought about reviving Jimin, wondering if he had been dead for too long - and then he saw that the other was still breathing. And he cried. He couldn't help it but seeing Jimin lying so lifelessly on the floor with the smell of blood all around him and his eyes firmly closed he had realized that he couldn’t just go on if Jimin was gone. He couldn’t.

“Jimin? Minnie?” He took the lifeless body in his arms, gently rocking him back and forth while he hugged him close until Jimin felt warmer and his heartbeat wasn’t so weak anymore. The smell of blood was still there, sickeningly sweet and overwhelming and so he gently placed the boy down to look for the source, to see if he could help. But it was too late for Grandma and so the only thing left to do for him was to gently close her eyes and say his goodbyes with a heavy heart.

Jimin was too weak to open his eyes, but he felt something lift him off the ground and for an awful moment he thought he was descending. Maybe to heaven? Or someone else that he didn’t know, but subconsciously his hand reached for something to steady himself, too scared to fall but too weak to really hold on as he felt a familiar heartbeat under his palm. Breathing in sharply, Jimin was curling in, trying to get away from the pain that was still aching all over his body. There was so much pain, so much hurting and Jimin couldn’t bare it. Namjoon didn’t know that Jimin’s consciousness was swimming in and out of focus. He just picked him up, as careful as he could and walked back with him to his home, all the while cradling him against his chest like a fragile, priceless possession. He had no idea what had happened and if Jimin knew that his grandmother was dead. The thought of burying her in the wild little garden behind the house had tears filling his eyes anew and he almost stumbled from his sight being so blurry. There was no time for grief now, not until Jimin was safe in his bed and would open his eyes again.

…

Jimin hissed in pain when something soothed over his skin. A barely there touch but it hurt, and he turned away from it, whining and regretting it the moment the pain was piercing his throat with every sound. Every ache, every bruise that made him stiffen up, only brought the nightmare back and Jimin was shaking from the fear of where he'd find himself. It was only then his fingers were gripping sheets under him and a different smell, but blood reached him. His heart was beating into overdrive as he carefully opened his eyes in fear.

Namjoon took the dampened cloth away from Jimin’s face when the younger started to stir and gave him space to come to. Jimin’s eyelids fluttered and he moved restlessly before he finally dared to open his eyes. “Hi.” Namjoon greeted him with a smile, his voice giving away how relieved he was to finally see Jimin awake. The walk had been a long one and Jimin hadn’t moved one bit, not even when Namjoon had gotten him into bed and started to clean the wound at his hairline that had colored strands of his hair red with blood. Only when he brought the cloth to Jimin’s lip to dab at the cut and wipe away the blood had the younger started to stir. There was freshly brewed herbal tea waiting for him that Namjoon wanted him to sip as soon as possible so that his throat wouldn’t be so sore. But first of all, it would be necessary to calm Jimin. He would ask what had happened later even though it burned on his tongue. Instead he tried to keep their conversation light and soothing. “How are you feeling? Are you warm enough? Do you want another blanket?”

Jimin’s heart recognized him way before his mind did, beating fast and uncontrollably, yearning for his lover’s closeness. He had no idea how he made it here or what had happened after he blacked out but Jimin didn’t want to remember. With a croaky whine, Jimin reached for Namjoon and pulled at his shirt to make him come closer. He needed him by his side. But he couldn’t say more; his throat constricting with every time he tried to say something. When Namjoon sat in bed with him, Jimin let himself get pulled closer against his chest, searching for the warmth and heat that his body always provided. His teeth were clattering, limbs shaking as he tried to shake off the cold and the shock. “Sh-she’s gone,” He sobbed, hiding his face in his chest, desperately searching for something to hold on to or else he might fall apart. “I wanted to ...tell her about you...u-us, b-but Honsung...he,” Jimin coughed, trying to get rid of the aching in his throat. Namjoon had reached for the tea on instant, tilting Jimin’s chin up to make the younger drink from it who was too shaken. He gulped down the warm drink, feeling it’s soothing effects right away when he spoke again. “It was h-him, the beast...he did...he m-murdered,” His arm reached around Namjoon on instinct as if the other could leave him right now.

It definitely answered the question if Jimin knew about his grandmother's death to see him like this. Namjoon tried his best to calm Jimin down, to soothe him enough that he wasn’t shaking so hard or gasping so helplessly for breath. He wouldn’t have mind letting the other cry at his shoulder if he felt it might help but Jimin shook so much and sobbed so desperately that he was worried for him. So, he gave him the tea, sip by sip trying to ground him and calm him (there was lavender in the tea, hop and chamomile). He couldn't really make out what Jimin was saying, he talked about Honsung and the beast, but he wasn’t sure what was really about what had happened and what Jimin had seen and what were his fears and the shock. He was in no state to be questioned so Namjoon just continued to hold him, caressing his back, brushing his fingers through his hair while whispering promises into his skin. “You’re safe now. No one can hurt you. Honsung will never lay a finger on you again. You’re okay. You made it through. You will heal, Jimin, I promise.” He could understand the other’s pain so well which made it a little harder to tell him he would be okay again because he knew that right now Jimin must feel like someone had torn out his heart and that this pain would never end. Grief only healed over time and sadly he couldn’t make the time pass faster so all he could do was be there for him while Jimin worked out his pain.

The younger had fallen asleep and against Namjoon’s side in exhaustion, hands buried deep in his shirt so he couldn’t move away. He needed Namjoon’s presence to ground him, even in his sleep. It felt like hours until he could open his eyes again, his body wrapped in a blanket that Namjoon had draped over them. Namjoon’s fingers were soothing through his hair and down his cheek, when he blinked up at him.

“What happened? How did you find me?” Jimin’s voice sounded tired, but a lot better than before. He had a terrible headache and Jimin felt for the cause of it, hissing when he came in contact with a bruise.

"Careful, baby." He gently took Jimin's hand away from the wound. He didn't have any bandages left so he had only been able to clean the wound and touching it could contaminate it again. As horrible as it was he would need to take Grandma's first aid kit when they buried her because although he didn't like the thought of stealing from the dead he didn't know where else to get Jimin the things he needed right now. He was glad that the younger had managed to get some sleep and that he seemed calmer now even though his eyes were still red rimmed, and his voice sounded rough and off from having been choked and all the tears that were still stuck in his throat.

"I...I just thought you might be there. You didn't come to meet me as you said so I thought you might have visited your grandma to… to say goodbye." His voice was heavy with empathy as he had finished.

“I wanted to tell her...about...about you,” Jimin’s eyes filled with tears, “That I would run from the village but then...Honsung. He was there out of a sudden and I didn’t understand it.” His eyes were searching the room, while he tried to collect his thoughts, “He saw the love bites and he went crazy. I’ve never seen him that mad before and then…” Jimin gulped, “He is the beast, Namjoon. He killed them all and blamed the wolf. It was never the wolf.” He choked on a dry sob, when his eyes suddenly widened and Jimin pushed himself up, throwing the blanket over. “Oh god, he’s dead. The wolf...he came. Did you see him?” Jimin shaking when he spoke, trying to get up from the bed, “I need to find him. They will try and kill him and it’s all my fault. He protected me. Help me please, Namjoon. Help me find him!”

Those were news to him, ones that he had a hard time wrapping his head around. Of course, he had figured out that it hadn’t been him who killed those people as he was extra careful around a full moon and people were hurt no matter what phase the moon was in. but that it had been the villagers themselves, one of their own who played monster? And Jimin’s fiancé of all people? The only good thing that came of all this mess was that there no one would be hurt because of the ‘wolf’ ever again. Because the real beast had died.

“Calm down, Minnie, please, sit back down, he’s fine, the wolf is fine, please don’t just run out there, I saw him, he’s... he’s perfectly okay!”

He had no idea how Jimin still managed to find so much energy inside of him when all he himself could feel was grief and worry and exhaustion. But apparently the wolf’s wellbeing weighted so heavy on the younger’s mind that he couldn’t let go of it that easily.

Jimin swayed a little when he got onto his feet, panting as he tried to hold onto the next best thing. “I need to tell him to hide, they will find them and…,” Jimin could barely bare the aching in his heart when he thought of his grandmother again and he wiped over his cheek, regretting it right away as he forgot about the bruise. “Please, Namjoon. They will see the biting marks and will think it’s the wolf for real now. He can’t know what they will do, but I know. They are monsters! They will kill him, thinking he had murdered twice.” He reached for Namjoon, pulling at his shirt, “I need to see him, please. Show me where he is!” It was the only right thing to do right now, his heart beating into overdrive, but his gut feeling told him to see the wolf. “We need to protect him!”

Jimin was trembling, his eyes wide and fearful and Namjoon started to worry that he might faint again if he couldn’t get the other to calm down again. His body had gone through enough today he didn’t need to tire himself out with his panic now especially because the wolf was fine, he was fine, but he couldn’t tell him, he had to watch Jimin try to get out of his grip and get to the door, ready to defend a creature he didn’t even know, jeopardizing his own health on the way.

“Jimin, please it’s fine, he’s okay, you don’t have to...” But the younger didn’t listen to him, didn’t let himself be lead back to the bed so it just slipped out “Jimin, he’s fine, the wolf is...he’s here!”

“Here?” Jimin looked at Namjoon in utter confusion before he turned around to rush out of the door. Could Namjoon hear him? Sense him being near? Did he know something that he didn’t know? Had he brought him to safety already? There was a million and one questions on his mind and Jimin could feel it hammering against his head, making it so much harder to think and only worsening his headache.

“Where? Where is he?” Jimin looked around, sounding more desperate the more he couldn’t see him. “Please, Namjoon.” He walked up to his lover, reaching out to cup his cheek as he soothed over his skin, “He protected me and it’s the least I owe him now. I love you, Namjoon, please trust me.”

How could Namjoon look at Jimin’s face, see the hope and desperation in it and then lie to him? He simply couldn’t. But he also couldn’t tell him, who know how he would react. Jimin had no home, no family, no fiancé, it had all come crashing down on him in one day. And if he got scared of Namjoon, of the only thing left to keep him sane what would he do? Namjoon was scared for him, so scared that he couldn’t speak, the words just didn’t come and so he stood there, helpless and lost, unable to tell Jimin his secret in fear of hurting him.

Jimin noticed the pain in Namjoon’s eyes right away, cupping his cheeks as his expression changed and his heart sunk. “What’s wrong? Is he hurt? Don’t tell me, ….please.” Tears cascaded down his cheeks as he thought of the wolf being hurt or worse - and more pain flooded him. He flung his arms around Namjoon and desperately sobbed, “Tell me he is okay, you said he is fine. You said he is alright.” He clung onto Namjoon as if he’d be the next person to be taken away from him. “He can’t be gone. He is my wolf!” Jimin’s voice cracked as he shook with the cries.

Seeing Jimin cry for him was the last thing he had wanted and so his resolve crumbled with every sob and every tear until there was nothing left. He had no idea what to say to make it okay - there was nothing left but the truth. So, he said, it, quietly at first because he had never said it to anyone before and because he was scared and Jimin almost missed it.

“I.. I’m the wolf. I’m okay.” When Jimin didn’t react he took the younger’s face in his hands and gently wiped his tears away before he repeated himself, a little louder this time. “I’m the wolf, Jimin. I’m here. There’s no need to cry for me.” His hands trembled as he tried to hold on to Jimin, afraid that the younger would push him away now.

Jimin just stared at him blankly, searching his eyes to see if Namjoon was fooling him or making fun of him. He could feel the tremble coming from him and Jimin furrowed his brows, not understanding a thing anymore. “Y-you’re…Namjoon,” He sniffled. “H-how - that makes no sense. That’s not…you’re not an animal.” Jimin cocked his head aside, heart drumming hard against its cage as he tried to comprehend why Namjoon was telling him nonsense. Was it just to calm him down?

“I’ve seen the wolf, you…you told me to be aware of him as we hid from the hunters. You cared for the wounds from the scratch, you…” Jimin looked at Namjoon, really looked at him and saw nothing but honesty. There was no smirk, no fake smile, just him pleading with his deep brown eyes. The same one’s the wolf had. Jimin gasped and pushed a palm over his hand as his eyes widened. “H-how…”

“My mother. She was a wolf too. So as her son I… inherited the curse. I... I’m not always wolf, obviously but I can turn, willingly and sometimes... during full moons I turn whether I like it or not.“ He could see the words slowly sinking in as Jimin tried to work it out and then put the puzzle pieces together so he hurriedly said, “I’m so, so very sorry that I scared you during that one night! It was a full moon so I didn’t know what I was doing, I never meant to scare or to hurt you, really, I would never harm you, I didn’t mean to it’s just that I can’t really control myself but it’s only during full moons and apart from that I’m... I’m fine, you don’t have to fear me at all, I swear!” He was out of breath from talking so fast and desperately, so he sounded as lost and vulnerable as he felt when he added, “Please, don’t be scared of me.”

The tears were silently falling when Namjoon reminded him of the night that the wolf died and the pain in his mother’s eyes. Had she always known? About the curse of the woman and her child? Jimin almost startled out of his thoughts when Namjoon begged him so desperately, laying all of his vulnerabilities out in front of him and the younger looked up.

“I was never scared of you…or the wolf.” He spoke honestly, not moving an inch away from the one he loved. “But Namjoon, how… I don’t understand. You’re human now and…” Jimin shook his head as he tried to wrap his mind around it, feeling like he couldn’t believe anything anymore after what had happened last night. “I’m sorry, but how do I know it was you?”

Jimin sounded calmer now and Namjoon latched onto it immediately, trying to explain to make Jimin see him for him and not the creature he (sometimes) was. “It hurts but my body changes, the bones, the structure, everything. I… I could show you. Not directly please because... I figure it’s enough to take in for you already, but I could just go to the back of the house and change and come back to you as a wolf and you would see my clothes lying there and...” He swallowed hard. “You might want to cover your ears while I change because… you can hear it. The bones cracking and... I can’t keep silent during it because it hurts so much.”

“Y-your bones?” Jimin gulped heavily, his eyes flickering over his arms, soothing over his skin that showed so many scars and if this was true it might be from fights and turning. But this couldn’t be. It was absolutely mad.

Jimin stepped away from Namjoon nonetheless, not sure what he was getting himself into or if he needed to run any moment. Was he that bad at finding true love? Jimin licked over his lips as he nodded and although knowing that it would bring Namjoon pain and the guilt was flooding him, he knew he wouldn’t believe until he saw or knew for sure with whom he was dealing with.

Namjoon tried to keep breathing normally even though his instinct would be to run and hide and never look back. He was absolutely vulnerable when he turned. And even if Jimin didn’t think of killing him because he was a monster he might still freak when he actually saw him. And even if everything worked out perfect and he wasn’t afraid, and he wouldn’t tell everyone, and he wouldn’t run than who was to say that he could still love him? Someone who turned into something entirely else, something dangerous, a predator that hunted regularly if he wanted or not. “You... you want me to turn? Are you sure?” He saw it in Jimin’s face that the other needed proof and yet he had to ask, just to see if maybe there was an out.

Jimin nodded slowly, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, I understand.” Namjoon nodded his head in resignation and then started to walk away while slipping out of his shirt. He hesitated for a second, turning back to Jimin to ask him, “No matter what, don’t follow me okay? It’s ugly. The wolf - I mean I will come to you when I’m finished.” Then he went all the way to the back of the house where he discarded his clothes and cowered down onto the floor to make it easier. He tried to relax, to keep breathing and to not make a sound but he didn’t have a chance. He was still scared, his muscles were tense, and the wolf picked up on his fear, pushing through too quickly and roughly. When the first tendon snapped he cried out in pain, fingers digging into the ground to try and keep himself from crying out again, but he couldn’t help but whimper when his spine shifted, bones cracking as they rearranged themselves into his second form.

Jimin couldn’t tear his gaze away from where Namjoon had disappeared, staring at the wall, but each cracking sound, each painful sound coming from him made him jerk and yelp in phantom pain. He couldn’t understand what was happening and he was about to call out for Namjoon to come back when it was silent. Jimin was shaking, when he saw it only seconds later. Where Namjoon had disappeared, was now a wolf staring right back at him and Jimin couldn’t believe it. The wolf stood right in front of him, so close that he could reach for him and suddenly it felt like everything was clicking into place.

His mother running out into the woods, dying to protect them and crying for Namjoon’s mother the fateful night – just like he had done. The many full moon nights, she had stayed away and Jimin had been scared she would never come back. She always smiled at him then, saying in the sweetest tone that the wolf would never hurt those who they truly love. And Jimin never understood it. His grandmother asking him not to leave until he knew. Now he did. The wolf belonged to his side, just like Namjoon’s mother had belonged to hers. Only their fate hadn’t been on their side and maybe this was just the universe making this right and fixing its horrible mistakes. Jimin didn’t care, instead he stumbled a little when he took a few steps towards the wolf and slowly got onto his knees.

“Namjoon?” Jimin searched the wolf's eyes for the familiar glint in them and with a shaking hand he reached out, dangerously close to the wolf’s fangs.

Namjoon shook out his fur to fluff it up and make it look the best as he could. He hadn’t dared to come too close in case Jimin would feel threatened but the younger only needed a little moment before he knelt down in front of him. His name sounded like a question and so Namjoon tried his best to nod, even though it came out awkward and stiff because it wasn’t how he would normally communicate when he was in his wolf form. He just didn’t. He was a little scared to meet Jimin’s eyes so he bowed his head, keeping his snout out of the youngers face to appear as docile as he could.

“It’s you,” Jimin couldn’t hold the tears back when his heart recognized his lover and his hand buried into the fur, feeling the familiar heat beneath his palm. He wasn’t scared of Namjoon, had never feared the wolf like the others did. “It was always you,” Jimin buried his other hand into the fur as he made the wolf look up at him, “You’re my wolf.” There were tears rolling down his cheeks and his heart was aching in the most beautiful way.

Namjoon sat down, allowing himself to relax into Jimin’s embrace as the other buried his face into his fur, hands gripping into it to hold him close. He closed his eyes, trusting Jimin with his life in this moment. He pushed his snout against Jimin’s face, licking his ear because it was the only thing he could reach but he needed to show his affection or else he felt like he would burst from it.

There was still so many things he wanted to ask, so many things he didn’t understand but he knew with Namjoon by his side he would find the answers. This right here was where he belonged. His heart had known it all along. “I love you, too,” Jimin giggled, when Namjoon licked across his face with so much eagerness. He held onto the wolf tightly, letting its presence calm his mind and heart and yet, he couldn’t the deny the storm inside of him. Soothing over Namjoon’s fur, Jimin stopped to look at him with earnest. “You understand me…r-right?”

As an answer Namjoon licked him again, placing a paw onto his knee to get even closer to him and snuggle his whole furry body against Jimin’s form.

Jimin couldn’t help but smile, even though what he would ask him next hurt him and couldn’t stop the tears. “They will look for you, they will try and hurt you. I can’t let this happen. I won’t lose you!” Jimin kissed the top of the wolfs head, “You don’t deserve the hurt this forest gave you, no…you deserve to be in peace.” He choked on his words as he wrapped his arm around the wolf whose small whine made Jimin hold onto him tighter. “I don’t want you to get hurt no more and the village…it won’t be safe here anymore.” Jimin kissed the tip of Namjoon’s wet nose as he looked at him with tear-filled eyes. “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. You’re my wolf and I need you to run away from here.” He breathed out the words that made him ache so badly, whispering the words into his fur.

Jimin was right and Namjoon knew this. They couldn’t exactly tell the villagers that one of them had murdered their people, they simply wouldn’t believe it and the only proof they had was Jimin who was seen as the ‘crazy witch kid’ already. They might burn him for it like they had burned his mother. So, leaving was the best option, Namjoon knew this. He howled at the thought of leaving the woods behind where he had grown up and where his mother had taught him to be a wolf, because it was the only thing he had left from here. However, if he wanted to have a future he needed to let go of the past. And he wanted this, a future, together with Jimin. The would find a space for them, maybe find another village that was more open minded and where Jimin could thrive.

“Run away with me, Namjoon. I won’t leave your side ever again. It’s where I need to be, with you…on full moon nights just as every other night.” Jimin smiled at him, wiping away the tears with a soft chuckle. “Do you think you can carry me?” There wasn’t much to take from his home anyways. It was replaceable. Jimin got up and walked around the big wolf, waiting for Namjoon’s response before climbing onto his back. He could feel the muscles shift underneath, the warm fur warming him perfectly as he leaned in and over him. “Let’s say goodbye to her, please.” Jimin placed a kiss on top of Namjoon’s head, holding onto him tightly, “And please never look back again.”

Namjoon let out an affirmative jip at that. Hope bloomed in his chest as the happiness filled him up. Jimin wouldn’t leave him. He said he would be with him, even during the full moon... he didn’t have to be alone any longer.

None of them did.

They had each other now. He tensed his muscles and then started running, with Jimin on his back, to where his paws would take them.

A/N: Ahhhh, we hope you enjoyed our very first adventure into our fairytale world! What’s next? How about beauty and the beast? ;)

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