#while mike who is tired of continuous living like this worrying about if his loved ones will live another day

[evie-doesnt-write]

Hanging tree but it's about Byler in the apocalypse...

[aydann-runs]

“Hey Mike,” Dallas says, following him inside when he goes to get another beer. “I found this stuck in the back of a drawer in the Airstream. It seemed like something you’d want to decide what to do with.”

Michael takes the crumpled envelope Dallas is holding out. Alex's name is scrawled across the front, and he recognizes it immediately. It's not like he’s written many letters in his life.

“You read it?” Michael asks aggressively. Before Dallas has a chance to respond, Michael grimaces and holds up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Sorry. I know you didn't read the letter. Stuff from that time in my life makes me defensive, and when it involves Alex…”

“Yeah man, I get it. It's okay,” Dallas says. He claps Michael on the back. “I'm gonna head back outside, but come on out when you're ready.”

Michael nods and sinks down onto Max's couch. Carefully, he lays the envelope on his thigh and smoothes it out the best he can. He remembers writing this letter, agonizing for weeks over whether or not to send it. He remembers getting drunk one night and stumbling to the nearest blue USPS box and pushing the letter through the slot.

He remembers sobering up a bit a few hours later and running back to the mailbox, using his telekinesis to pull the letter back out.

Michael remembers shoving the letter away, out of sight, as soon as he'd gotten back to the trailer. He'd done his very best not to think about it over the next half a dozen years, and then Alex had come home, had become his home, and he'd forgotten about the letter entirely.

Michael swallows hard and runs a hand through his curls. He's tempted to just toss it in the fire pit, to let it burn to ashes. He still remembers what he'd written to Alex, even if it's been close to ten years since he'd sealed the envelope, but it feels wrong, disrespectful to who he'd been, to destroy the letter without rereading it first. So, after a final glance around to ensure his continued privacy, he pulls open the flap to the envelope and slides the single piece of paper out.

Alex,

You left again the other day. Headed somewhere in Texas, I think, from something you let slip. You're always so careful to avoid telling me where you're stationed. Are you afraid that if I know, I'll show up uninvited and ruin your perfect little charade of a life? That if I know how to find you, I actually will? Would that really be so bad? I know how to keep a secret. I could be your secret.

But don't worry, because I don't actually know how to find you. I have to send this letter to your squadron home base, and they'll send it on to you, wherever you actually are.

I know I just said I could be your secret, but that's a lie. And I know that’s how it has to be right now, but I'm so tired of being someone you're ashamed of. Do you know how much it fucking hurts every time you leave? I love you, and I want you to love me back. And maybe you do, and you're doing the best you can right now, but it fucking HURTS. It's not enough. I can't be the person you come to only on your terms.

I'm living this double life, this semi-charmed life. You come around for a few hours or a few days, and the rest of the world fades away. And it's so good! While we're together, I can almost believe that you love me too, that this will be the time that you don't put up your walls and leave. That you don't remind me that I can't talk to anybody about you, about us, as you're heading out the door. As if I could ever forget. That's Rule #1. Keep this a secret.

And then you always leave, and it doesn't matter how good things were while you were here, because when you leave, it destroys me every time. It must not hurt you, the leaving, like it hurts me being left behind, because if it did, you wouldn't be able to keep doing it. There's no way you could feel like I do right now, like your heart was ripped from your chest, and walk away.

I'll get through it this time like I have all the other times, but Alex, you've gotta stop. I love you, but I can't keep letting you do this to me. If you can't stay, then next time, don't come at all.

He hadn't signed the letter, hadn't wanted to give the Air Force anything that could be used to hurt Alex.

Reading those words, scrawled in his own hand, brings back an echo of how he'd felt at the time, and he rubs at his chest, soothing the remembered ache. But that is all it is–a memory. He and Alex have talked through everything that had happened during those years and have done the work to soothe old hurts and build a solid foundation to move forward.

So Michael gives himself a minute or two more to ground himself in the here-and-now before he pushes up from the couch to rejoin Alex and his family outside. He crumples the letter in its envelope and tosses it into the fire as he steps into Alex's space. He leans against the solid weight of his husband and watches the letter burn to ashes.

[briamichellewrites]

56

Mike and Dave surprised everyone by getting engaged. It felt like the right time. Their families were excited about their marriage! During a meeting with Muto and Donna, they revealed they were going to have a small wedding. For the past year, Dave’s mother had been fighting breast cancer. She was not doing well. The disease was progressing rapidly throughout her body. At most, she had another year left. It was because of this, they wanted to get married as soon as possible.

They gave the boys their blessing to get married. Dave would be a wonderful son-in-law and partner to Mike. Mike proposed to him before they left to go on tour. He accepted his proposal right away! They shared the news with everyone while in the air. They congratulated them! Chester already knew. He tried as hard as he could to keep it a secret.

He was antsy because he wanted to share the news, but he couldn’t! It wasn’t his news to share. When Mike spilled the beans, he felt a great relief. Rob asked if they were going to continue living with Bria, or if they would move out. They were not sure about that. They didn’t think it mattered to her what they decided. Speaking of, how was she doing? She was doing so well! Her relationship with Brad was healthy and as such, they didn’t have to worry about her running away again.

She had episodes of depression. That was part of her bipolar disorder. However, they weren’t as severe as they were before. They would have her as part of their wedding party. She could wear a tuxedo if she wanted to. They laughed. Unlike her marriage to Jason, they would never get divorced. No matter what. Mike’s parents credited him for helping him remain sober.

“You have to learn to love yourself before you can love me.”

Dave remembered how far they had come. He had to fight for him, while he struggled with alcoholism and depression. The man he loved was destroying himself with men and alcohol. He had to step back because he didn’t want to continue getting hurt. When he became sober, he started seeing the man he loved coming back out. For the first year, he was scared of losing him to a relapse.

Promoting the movie was hard work. That was why Bria was grateful to have Brad there with her. The cast had press conferences, photo shoots, interviews, and film premieres. It was a lot of early mornings and late nights. She collapsed into bed every night because she was so tired. At the same time, she was so happy. This was what she wanted to do. Every time they showed it to the media, they got good reviews. It was as if everything she did was praised.

Brad warned her it wouldn’t be like that forever. Critics could be fickle about what they like. They would love her one day and then, hate her the next. All she could do was give her best performance. He had movies where his performance was criticised, even though he gave it his all. The comments hurt sometimes and they made him frustrated. It was as if they didn’t understand what he was trying to do.

He couldn’t let the negativity ruin his career. She took that advice to heart.

Park City, Utah. The weather was colder than she was used to. She had to run to Saks to get a warm jacket and snow boots before leaving California. Anthony was used to the cold since he was from Joliet, a city outside of Chicago. He jokingly asked her if she would ever move to the Midwest.

“I would be like the retired community, who go to Florida during the winter to get away from the cold. I prefer Southern California.”

“You can take the girl out of California, but you can’t take the California out of the girl.”

“Exactly. You poor Midwesterners.”

He laughed. She did have fun playing in the snow. It made her feel like a child again. She threw a snowball at Brad. Barry, Heath, Daveigh, Matt and Jennifer joined them in their snowball fight. She tripped and fell back into a snow bank, getting her pants wet. Oh, well. She would change when they got back to her hotel suite. The festival was full of different celebrities promoting their films. They got to meet them during the various parties and events. The cast also hung out together at their hotel.

Brad scheduled everything for them. He was enjoying watching Bria experience everything for the first time. She was excited about the little things. It brought out another part of her personality that he loved. It taught him to appreciate the little moments. Her almost nonstop energy and enthusiasm inspired the cast to keep going. She thought about how excited her parents would be for her.

Bria would have asked Brad to hire Jasper as one of the crew. He would have had fun learning more about how movies were made, along with watching his daughter. Both he and Christina would have told their friends about the movie. They would have encouraged them to go see it, like the proud parents they were. Brad and Jasper would have gotten along well. He would have gotten a kick out of Jasper’s energy and enthusiasm. They were there in spirit. That’s what she had to believe.

“Meow!”

Princess looked up at Dave. She was trying to use her cat charm to get more treats from him. It was almost working. Mike told him that he was spoiling her. He laughed and crouched down to pet her. No, she would have to wait until dinner for more food. It was only two in the afternoon and she had just had lunch. She wasn’t going to starve to death before five.

Sensing she wasn’t going to get her way, she fell to the floor and meowed in protest. They had to laugh at her tantrum. Chester came in and asked what happened. Dave explained the situation in amusement. They laughed before leaving her to her tantrum. She continued meowing loudly, but they ignored her. Micha looked at his sister making a damn fool of herself before walking away. After five minutes, she got up because they were not going to give in to her demands.

The house was quiet, as it was just the three of them. The band would be coming over the following morning to work on their album. Mike spoke to Jason over the phone. The previous evening, he went out with some of his workmates. He got drunk at the bar and had to be helped back to his flat. His boss found out about it. He promised it wouldn’t happen again.

Mike was not happy about his slip-up. That was an understatement. It didn’t matter if he didn’t intend for it to happen. Not to him. Chester thought he was justified in his anger.

“But?”

“Nothing. I would usually tell you not to be too hard on him. Coddling and enabling won’t help him. Be angry or whatever you need to feel.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that”, he replied sincerely.

“You’re welcome.”

Princess went into the cat room sulking. How could the humans be so cruel? Dave came in and she growled at him. He apologised to her for not giving her treats. She growled again because she was angry. He scratched her head and told her she was still his favourite girl. She blinked at him. Was he forgiven? Yes, but she still needed time to work through her anger. He thanked her.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon

[ima-ghost-art]

You know what? More steve getting vecnad let's go!

I want steve to be vecnad and I want him to be tired of everything that has happened in his life. From everything that started after 83, from being neglected and hated by his parents, from having only had shitty toxic freinds most of his life, for falling in love so easy only to have the people he loves and trys to care for call it all, them, him bullshit, to have risked his life multiple times to save his kids only for them to look over or down play his achievements and injuries!!

I want steve to be so so tired of trying, never having a chance for a rest because he's constantly waiting for the next thing to go wrong. And Vecna? Vecna is the first person to offer him that rest. Vecna turns to steve and offers him a break, telling him that if he joined him, he wouldnt ever have to feel tired again.

That this exhausting existence he is forced to live wouldnt have to hurt him anymore. He wouldnt need to worry about helping others, wouldnt need to fear he wasnt enough, wouldnt have to continue being the one getting beaten up year after year after year only to be overlooked by the people see called friends, the people he saw as family. That steve could finally be given Peace.

I want steve to consider it.

I want steve to want it so so bad.

It's not like he could escape any way, theres no music playing, his friends didnt even know his favourite song, and vecna tells him that. That they cant even bother to find it, let alone remember it!

Steve knows it's not true, it CAN'T be! His friends would be fighting for him, they had too... Wouldnt they? But Vecna sounds so real, and hes just so tired, tired of fighting, of running. He just wants peace...

"You promise?" His voice is barely a whisper, hes terrified, but the offer sounds too good to be true.

"Of course." Vecnas face twisted into what one could only believe to be the closest thing to a sincere but sinister smile.

Steve stared at vecna, trying to read the monsters eyes for any hint of a lie, while tears steamed down his cheeks. He nods the best he can around the vine that has pinned him by his neck against the wall. He was so tired.

Vecna grinned, his slimy hand moving towards Steve's face, a elongated coming up to stroke the tears from his cheek,"Dont cry steve, it's time for yo-"

"STEVE!"

his words are cut off by a scream, and the sudden unmistakable sound of the opening to "every body wants to rule the world" playing faintly around them.

El looks as exhausted as steve felt, blood dripping down her chin, as she made her way to vecna a second time. She knew what she was doing this time however, and she was going to save Steve. There was a portal behind her, not big, but big enough to see the whole party gathered around Steve's body.

Hopper was standing directly below, arms braced ready to catch steve when her fell. Joyce was holding into will and Jonathan as they were knelt by a kiddy pool with el floating in it. Max along with dustin held desperately onto her Walkman. Lucas and erica was holding onto Robin who was shaking, she was on the ground like her legs had given out on her. Eddie, Nancy and Argyle were not there, but with how mike was frantically yelling into his walkie talkie, steve had a guess at where they were/ going.

Everyone was crying, even hopper-

And they were trying to save him!?

"Steve you need to fight! Please- do not give up!!" El was crying, she had seen vecna take max, she wasnt going to watch that happen again. Not to steve, he cared about them too much to go out this way, especially when they hadn't shown him how much they appreciated him yet.

"So- tired. I'm so tired El, I cant" Steve sounded so broken, El had never seen him like this before, not even as she faced him memories to find him here. He was always so strong for them, but now he was barely holding on and vecnas had was right over his face-

His arm snapped

"YOU CAN! Please Steve!! We cant lose you, you make sure we are all okay! You look after us! You make us happy! You would alway bring me icecream on fridays after you work, or call me and will to tell us new movies!" She was crying hard, as she used her powers to send vecna flying backwards before running to where steve had fallen to the floor.

They didnt have long, steve needed to run now before vecna could get up, but he was still so tired. He looked up at El, the girl looked so scared, she had almost watched him die for christ's sake!? "El, I'm so-"

She silenced him as she pulled him up and holding onto him tight, god she was still so young. Her gaze was hard as she glared as vecna who was fully standing now. She let Steve go as she raised her left arm towards the monster... "no need for sorry steve." Her words left no room for argument, "we love you so we came to save you."

Steve wanted to weep, it had been to long since someone had to him they loved him and ment it. And sure, he was still, tired, still longed for rest. But he realised that he couldn't just give up now. Finally, people were fighting for him, and he was going to make sure he kept fighting so they didnt loose.

So he ran, not looking back as he hears the monster and el scream- the familiar words of his favourite song pushing him forwards as he held onto his mangled arm. Sliding and dodging rocks as they fell from the sky, getting closer and closer to the portal. He could see his freinds, all so terrified on the other side.

Things were not going to be easy, that was for certain. But life wasnt ment to be easy, and not for the first time after he asked vecna if what he was offering was true, he realised just how much he wanted to live right as he jumped through the portal. Because he really did want to live.

[alluringjae]

au cours de l’été - jjh

⤑ translation: over the summer

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

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

⤑ masterlist

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

3 juin 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jaehyun! What brings you here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Une nouvelle venue?” (A newcomer?)

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

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

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

“Jaehyun?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shucks, he was pretty cute.”

12 juin 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Correct.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

début de juillet 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s infatuated by you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Bonsoir, (Y/N).” [Goodnight, (Y/N).]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“En voyant notre mine ravie,”

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

“Les passants dans la rue, nous envient,”

Your hand perched on your cheek, admiring his talent.

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

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

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

“Un espoir merveilleux, qui donne le frisson…”

À la mi-juillet de 1957

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Get dressed and some sleep, (Y/N).”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Call me that again, please.”

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

“Tu peux m'avoir.” (You can have me.)

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

This time, it’s different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fin de juillet 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Keep them on when you ride me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Je t’aime aussi, Jaehyun.”

16 octobre 1957

Autumn made its way to the countryside.

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

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

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

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

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

“Still breathtaking.”

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

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

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

“Write to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now, what was he up to?

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

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

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

You giggled at his silliness, throwing out flying kisses.

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

21 octobre 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get to the point please!” You screeched.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Could the next summer come any faster?

14 février 1958

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I beg your pardon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your fairytale.

“Jaehyun.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He spoke about me to you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is he your favorite muse?”

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

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

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

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

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

“So tell me about your new book.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What really went down in Provence?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deal.”

6 ans plus tard (1964)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Remember when you said how his mansion felt too big?

It no longer did after getting married.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ouvre-le.” (Open it.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Je t’aime, (Y/N).”

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

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

Excluding being drenched from the rain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

copyright © 2021 by alluringjae.

[real-fanta-sea]

Prompt for the kiss no. 71

Prompt: "Not to be cringe or anything, but I really like the idea of the kiss 71 (height difference kisses where one person has to bend down, and the other is on their tippy-toes)...where Trevor is his true height. i.e. Ogg's height and Michael has to stand on his tiptoes to snog him."

I'm sorry, anon, but I saved the post as a draft and it just vanished into thin connection. So, I have to answer this way.

This work is more of a spur of the moment thing, but I kinda like the way it turned out, being it just my emotions spilt onto paper. If you'd like, you can read it on AO3 here, or under read more. I hope you'll like it as much as I enjoyed writing it! :)

tw: kissing, child abuse memories

It's been three weeks already.

An unhealthy greenish glow of flickering light tubes and the icy breath of an industrial refrigerator made him shiver as Michael, gliding on the orbit touching stars in his mind, put yet another box of ready-made microwave hamburgers into his shopping cart. If he were not a regular in this particular shop, he would have got lost. It resembled an anthill with seemingly infinite shelves and aisles, bursting with the merchandise, even though the depressed lights covered everything in the same shade of decay green. The same life outlook was shared with most of the shadows roaming around whose name tags qualified them as proud employees of Flormart.

It's been three weeks, and he still stuck around, hanging on his every word.

Michael pushed his cart further from frozen goods, and the pictures swirling and smearing all around transitioned from photoshopped vegetables to flashy fireworks of chips and other guilty pleasures he planned on indulging in later on. Some people would find the height of the shelves menacing, but to Michael, it was just a memory that pulled him from the orbit back to earth and placed him in the middle of a football pitch. The smell of sweat building up underneath his helmet. The crunch of the crisp lawn under his feet. The spotlight following him whenever he scored. Cheering faceless crowds in time with busty faceless girls' pompoms. But most of all, he felt happy again - needed, cherished, innocent, and with a bright future awaiting his embrace. But then, just as he crossed from the snacks aisle to the alcohol quarter, the football stadium lights flickered and turned bright red. All the faceless girls turned around, their mouths gaping as if someone dislocated their jaws, and the cheering turned into a hellish cry of pain. Where their eyes were supposed to be, he saw a flair, screwing itself deeper into their skull, and a stream of scarlet goo drip down on their immaculate white dresses.

It's been three weeks, and somehow, his puppy-like behaviour didn't irk him yet. Quite the opposite if he were honest with himself - he felt strangely peaceful in his company.

Michael gulped in a desperate attempt to wash down the horror that invited itself under cover of a happy memory. Shaking his head only did so much and dispersed the spectators and cheerleaders alike, in the same way shaking a snowy paperweight would. Michael's chest constricted as he felt unable to breathe in properly, people splatting and exploding upon impact all around him in his mind. Suddenly, he felt a pull under both of his shoulders and found himself flying towards the pitch-black sky, where instead of one moon, two shone down on him. As he flew closer, they shrunk into two amber irises - and Michael immediately knew who pulled him out of the memory. As he crashed into a mass of pink candy cotton clouds, his vision blurred just to clear up when he felt a solid surface under his feet and someones hot hands in his. Somehow, he found himself looking at the tips of abused old pair of sneakers he was wearing, the same pair Michael knew he wore that faithful day at the airstrip. A moment later, a couple of dark blue, equally run-down ones stepped into his field of vision. He slowly let his sight slide up on crumpled jeans, the hem of a military jacket, a pair of dog tags hanging around a slender neck, a sharp jaw, a pair of full dark lips and finally, to the pair of amber eyes, eyes that radiated worry, care and, at the same time, something he could only read as love and utmost devotion.

It's been three weeks since the incident, and anytime he woke up from a nightmare that played in his mind over and over again, he was there to soothe him; he was there waiting for Michael's tears to dampen his naked shoulder. He didn't bitch about it and didn't tell a soul in the morning.

Michael let out a shaky breath. Stopping his feet from casually continuing in their stroll proved harder than he thought, and he leaned on the shopping cart handle, running fingers through his hair. He couldn't decide what mortified him more - the creativity his brain proved to possess when playing out the horrible things he has witnessed in just a few years of his fresh adulthood, or the way it put his acquaintance on some fucking pedestal and presented him as the alpha and omega of his thoughts and desires.

"Hey Michael, are you ok?"

Speaking of the devil... "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just.." Michael breathed in again and turned towards the source of the voice, trying to display a small smile by twitching his tired lips "I need a smoke, that's all."

It's been three weeks, and he got that tingling feeling in his guts already. He could barely tolerate touch or prolonged eye contact without getting goosebumps and that ticklish feeling solidifying and slicing right into his groin. Michael wanted to believe it was just his weird head showing gratitude for saving his ass, but anytime he found himself in the company of that amber-eyed twink, the longing grew worse.

"Hey, how about a bottle of something to wash the cig down?" said the guy and his oversized jeans jacket hanging from his shoulders cringed into weird shapes as he took one of his hands out of his pocket and pointed his thumb towards the shelves. He looked so adorably dishevelled in all jeans, and with his silky hair framing his hopeful face, Michael couldn't have said no to anything he would suggest. Instead of mustering the strength to say no, Michael threw another smile towards his companion and turned his back to him to choose the dream crusher he wanted to numb them with before they went to bed.

To someone who grew up in a functional family, all the labels and bottle shapes would seem the same. To Michael, however, to choose the right brand and size meant the same as selecting the bananas or avocados of the proper ripeness would for them. It was a work of art; he learned so much in the ten years of living with his stepfather. While scrutinizing the shelves, index finger and thumb scrubbing on the sides of his chin absent-mindedly, he remembered how they would come to the similar shop together, he and his mother's second husband, and how he slipped behind the shelves. At the same time, Frank chatted with the clerk, and he stuffed his lunch box with a large flat bottle of Chief's Heritage Fire Water whiskey. He had to carefully close it to avoid disturbing the aluminium foil that served as a guard from the primitive electronic protection device they had to pass through on their way out. Michael would then tuck his stepfather's sleeve, babble some cute nonsense to get candy from the unsuspicious clerk, and after they paid for the two packs of cigarettes and a beer, they would leave. Frank would let him chug on whiskey then, and if he were in an exceptionally good mood, he would let him sleep through the night without beating the shit out of him.

Finally, spotting the whiskey he knew so well on one of the top shelves, Michael attempted to grasp it but only managed to graze his fingertips against the bottom of one of the bottles that rocked gently upon touch but otherwise didn't move an inch. "Fuck", he uttered under his breath, cracked his neck and stretched onto the tips of his toes, steadying himself by holding onto one of the lower shelves. But, again, he could only touch the bottle but not get a good hold of it. He even contemplated climbing the shelves to get it, as if the shame of his disappointing height haven't already painted his cheeks bright red and didn't make him want to leave the shop right away. Just as he braced himself for the climb, eyes fixed on that damn bottle, a gentle touch of someone's hand squeezing his shoulder made him turn around. It was Trevor's hand, and even though Michael still had to look up to meet his eyes, the small sympathetic smile put him in ease in a blink of an eye.

"Chief's, huh? Good choice, Mike!" the praise in his voice made Michael shiver, and he desperately tried to ignore the warmth he was receiving through the palm still steady on his shoulder and which upset his heart into beating twice as fast as ever before. "My old man used to drink this. It tastes like cat piss but knocks you out good for the buck." Trevor's grin felt like a warm touch sunrise after countless years of freezing darkness. Michael couldn't help but soak in the warmth, allowing himself to lose himself in the feeling completely. "Let me get it for you, eh?" he heard Trevor say from somewhere near, and before he could object, most of the light was obstructed by a jeans-clad chest.

It was then when Michael closed his eyes and tried to get hold of the situation. Trevor, the guy he only knew for three weeks, pushing Michael's back onto the shelves as he leaned for the bottle but also pushing his chest almost to Michael's. If it weren't for a couple of inches of hot air and fabric between them, their bodies would brush against each other. Michael could only gulp when he opened his eyes again, and his mind provided him with the maddening picture of Trevor's naked lean chest, peppered with dark brown hair as if puberty marked its way down towards his groin with it. Michael's head was spinning when he looked up to see Trevor still busy fetching the bottle. Michael's racing imagination saw him grabbing the guy's head, crashing lips with his and dissolving into what he thought would be the best kiss he would ever receive. Michael gulped again. He had to have him.

He was anxious about the way it was too easy to raise both his hands and grab fists full of other man's jacket as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Michael didn't fight it when he felt his muscles pull on the fabric and only turned his gaze up to where he expected Trevor's eyes to look once he would feel the movement of his clothes. Michael didn't have to wait for it at all, actually; the puzzled expression was already waiting for him to drink it up. However, he couldn't maintain the contact for too long as his eyes focused on something completely different; the dark lips, deliciously parted in the unspoken question. The distance between his own and them unnerved him, and in the sparking silence, Michael again propped himself onto the tips of his toes, pressed harder on the fabric to steady himself and, closing eyes, pressed his lips to Trevor's.

For a delicious moment, the world fell apart as if some invisible force made the dimensions crash down. The trembling soft firmness against his lips sent shivers down his spine with each cautious move. Whenever Michael recalled the moment years later, he could always sense the faint smell of cigarettes, petrol and sun mixing between their bodies and the way the ground shook and cried under his feet when he felt Trevor's palms slide down his sides and pull him closer, effectively sweeping him off his feet.

Trevor seemed to be relishing at the moment as much as Michael was, but when he felt solid ground under his feet again, and the pair of arms letting go of him, Michael reluctantly broke the kiss with a coquettish wet pop and tried to catch his lost breath. Then, leaning against the shelves again, he only dared to peek up when his cheeks stopped burning from what felt like a mixture of acid and a marathon run. Trevor's face might as well have been a mirror, for he looked down on Michael with eyes wide, face red and lips wet and trembling as if he didn't get a grasp of reality yet. Michael couldn't help but let the anxiety scream right to his face in the voice of his stepfather - and there were thousands of things he might have ruined then and there, just because he didn't fight his stupid queer side, because he let himself kiss another man, because by the twisted chain of mistakes he fell from what could have been a good life to longing after a rabid smuggler in the middle of a liquor aisle.

Just as he was about to duck under Trevor's arm and run away from the voice and feelings of shame it brought about, he was stopped by a gentle, almost shy touch of a hot palm on his cheek. The slender fingers brushed against his face in such a delicate way Michael's heart skipped a beat, and closing his eyes, he leaned into the touch, seeking the soothing silence it brought with the warmth. The hand fit his cheek like a glove, Michael mused as he relaxed into slow movements of fingertips on his temples. Right there, at that moment, everything felt so right, so natural. Why has he deprived himself of the delicious heat for three weeks when somewhere deep inside, where the beating of his heart always gave away the truth, he knew he needed it from the start - well, Michael didn't know. Instead, he slid his arms around Trevor's waist and buried his face into his chest.

"Michael?"

The vibrating echo of his name, spoken in such a husky yet caring way, made Michael squeeze his arms around Trevor even tighter. He sought the last bits and pieces of it before he dared to speak up himself, afraid of spoiling the delicious contentment of the moment.

"Let's get out of here."

A gentle kiss on top of his head and long arms lacing his shoulders later, Michael found himself too far from Trevor for comfort. But even with the newly gained distance between them, a quick glance sideways has provided him with a sight of a beaming smile and a fire deep inside Trevor's eyes that made his own lips twitch into a happy upwards bow. As they rolled into the checkout, Michael has noticed the world has changed as well. The depressing shade of green has somehow transitioned into a welcoming warm white; the shadows that they passed by on their way in suddenly bloomed into happy faces. The various packings of goods exploded in all the colours of the rainbow. As Michael and Trevor emerged into the darkness of the parking lot, ready to relive their revelation in thousands of ways, Michael has felt at peace with himself for the first time in forever. The days of the inner night were over.

[boognish-worshipper]

Remember the Rain

praying this is the final part of “Sunrise, Sunset” by the time i’m done omg ,, lamar finally talks it out with frank. i was tryna keep the titles consistent with a sky theme? wasn’t sure what to name this one at first, but i settled on naming it after a i song that i felt was sorta fitting lol ,, also lamar’s dramatic when drunk, that’s jus how it’s gonna be

oh and i included one last convo w/ that psychic lady bc each character got three opportunities to speak to her lol

//

The night Franklin and him fought was the third night in a row Lamar couldn’t sleep right. Then it became four. Then five. Six. He had hoped after the first couple days of Franklin being mad, that it’d all blow over and things would go back to normal. That he wouldn’t ever have to say anything about what he felt deep down. Even though he told himself he had to, he wouldn’t. He waited it out, and still hoped it would all just fucking blow over. That wasn’t what happened of course.

An overcast sky was spread over LS, light rain tapping against Lamar’s window. As cheesy as it was, it reflected how he felt. Another day had passed. Franklin wasn’t picking up, not even reading his texts, nothing. He called a couple times at first when the fourth day of the silent treatment occurred, then tried a few more times to contact him in the following days. It had grown into a long and sad string of texts.

franklin.

dog

plz

pick up

answer me

plz?

c’mon frank i told you i have nothin goin on with yo auntie

i wanna talk things out with you.

u ain’t let me finish explaining

text me when u read this. plz bro

He sighed. This was hopeless. He set his phone aside, still laying awake. A buzz came right after. Fucking finally, something.

fuck you

we got nothin to discuss

He didn’t know how to feel. This was fucking him up and he couldn’t think straight. He tried calling him once more, the ringing as he waited for a pick up mocking him. Voicemail yet again. How many messages had he tried leaving at this point?

for fucks sake frank pick up

u ain’t doin this to me rn

jus let me explain myself

He stared at the ceiling yet again, like it would have all the answers sprawled out for him. As he did, he focused on how the rain had picked up, coming down harder. Then he felt his phone buzz.

no

now stop blowing my phone up

i’m tryna sleep

Lamar was never one to be sensitive, but he felt so crushed right now that all he could do was cry silently to himself. He didn’t even have Chop around anymore to comfort him like he normally would whenever Lamar was going through something. Would he even see him again? He lived over at Frank’s now. Fuck. Did this mean they’d have to share custody now? If he wasn’t so upset, he most likely would’ve laughed at the idea of it. He was letting bad thoughts consume him, turning to a last minute resort of drinking to try stopping it. This kind of thing rarely happened to him, these kind of feelings weren’t common. He knew no other method of trying to stuff bad feelings down, working through a 6 pack of beer on his own, followed by a bottle of some type of random liquor. Anything to stifle the pain in his chest, although it didn’t accomplish much other than making him feel even more queasy. He left one last voicemail, choking back a sob. Or what he had thought would be the last one. He lost count.

“Franklin. Please jus’ talk to me already man. You- you believin’ what you wanna believe right now, you ain’t even givin’ me a chance. You my best fuckin’ friend, don’t that mean shit to you anymore? We.. homies n shit.” He sniffled, cringing to himself when he said the words “best friend”. Franklin was so much more than that to him.

“Ion… Ion think I can live without you in my life. You can’t hate me man that shit.. that’s fucked. This is fucked. I’m fucked.”

A strong feeling of humiliation hung around him for many reasons, one being that he was fully crying now, over the phone. He couldn’t get any lower.

“You jus’ mad right now. But you.. you won’t be, eventually. Right? Please get back to me soon. Please. I’d rather fuckin’.. die or sum’ than have you hatin’ me n shit. At this point I might as well.”

After hanging up, he decided to visit that site one last time. His tears blurred his vision, making it harder to type. The shit in his system didn’t help either.

lady

i fuckef up

thsi is yo faukt

What now? Why are you back?

frankljn hates me

He does? That’s not right.

damn straighy it fuckign isnt

No, I mean that’s not correct.

There’s no way that he could, even if it seems like it right now.

jus fuckin tell me whst to do

That’s out of my hands.

is not u fuckin wirch

*withc

*witch

Look, I really don’t know how else to help you. I don’t have any other visions to offer. You’re on your own.

They do say though, that dreams are visions themselves.

dont fukcin speak in riddles rn

Precognition, Lamar. Just have faith

prewhatnow

n yeah. faith. bc that helps so fuckn much

All I can say to you is good luck - it’s all coming together. Just wait.

th fuck does that mean?

It means that you’re stressing too much - you better sleep it off. Farewell Lamar. You’re gonna have a killer hangover you know…

SERVICE UNAVAILABLE. PLEASE TRY AGAIN LATER.

The notification did nothing but make him more upset. He calmed down eventually, the crying and alcohol tiring him out. He blacked out soon after, not remembering when he fell asleep.

For the first time in a while, he dreamt about the two of them. The start of the dream showed a radiant sight before them, the sky lit up in a million shades. Chop was laying beside Franklin, head on his thigh. All three of them sat on a grassy knoll, a soft breeze blowing through each blade. Franklin turned, Lamar not taking his eyes off him since the dream started. He only noticed the sky’s wide color palette because the intensity struck Franklin’s face just right. He looked right into Lamar’s eyes, speaking softly.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“What?”

“You had so many opportunities. So many times, I thought that you would. I got my hopes up, you know. I waited. When Tanisha left.. I only had you.”

“Tanisha..”

“I still love her. I.. I think apart of me always will, but I love you just the same. Even if you drive me up a Goddamn wall sometimes. You both mean the world to me.”

Franklin looked back at the view ahead. A heavenly indigo replaced the vivid hues from before.

“But she’s gone now. Shit ain’t the same. All I know is you stayed when she didn’t. Even when she got pulled outta the hood and made some kinda new life for herself, you never left my side. Never changed yo loyalties.”

He turned back to face Lamar again. His eyes were glassy, the glow of the midnight sky reflecting in them.

“So why didn’t you say somethin’ sooner?”

“Franklin.. I ain’t deduce that shit ‘til now.“

“You really didn’t know?”

Even in the dream he could feel that previous frustration occur in his mind. Was he hiding in a glass closet or something? He could only let out a wry laugh.

“Yeah man. I was a fuckin’ fool, jus’ like you always said.”

“Damn straight.” He chuckled, and Lamar came to the conclusion that he could listen to that laugh forever. Franklin’s face then fell solemn.

“Y’know I really thought that.. I really thought that you jus’ got with someone else. Not even jus’ my Aunt. I saw how you wanted to get away from me, and I thought…” He stopped himself, petting Chop’s head.

“I.. wanted to be happy if you was, but the thought of that at all bothered me.”

“Why?”

“Cuz you were all I had, dog. Mike n Trevor, they have their own lives, their own history n shit. I can’t always rely on them. Denise don’t give a fuck what happen to me. You my lifeline dog, I’ve known you for years. I didn’t want you to forget me over a chick or sum’. That day you acted all different n shit, it worried me.”

“Hey man, y’know I ain’t ever gon pull that shit on you. I’m with you for life.”

“Then don’t pull other kinda stupid shit on me.”

“Whatchu mean?”

“You can’t ever die on me bro. That ain’t how this shit works.”

“Ay man, I don’t plan on dying jus’ yet. Not unless yo ass by my side. Not ‘til I tell you I…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

Franklin got closer to his face, cupping his cheek. His eyes shone as the stars around them fell from the sky, akin to raindrops, hitting them. Everything about him was flooding Lamar’s senses, and it felt surreal, between his aroma and all the other things he loved about Franklin. Golden flecks covered them both, and the stars continued to crash down. The sky was growing darker than before.

“Just say the words Lamar. Say them and this shit’ll be over.”

“How?”

“Well first you need to wake yo ass up.”

“Huh?”

“I said wake up, fool!”

Lamar’s blissful dream had been interrupted by an unknown figure shaking him, literal raindrops hitting his face. He was still bleary eyed, only seeing a vague silhouette in front of him. A wet slap to the face rattled his brain around, the hangover settling in. Shit, was he still drunk? What time was it?

“Lamar! Get up!”

“Oh.. Th’fuck? Who- who that is?” He grunted out.

“It’s me you fuckin’ clown!”

“Frank?”

“Who the fuck else?”

“Why are you-”

He was abruptly yanked out of bed, thudding to the floor with a small “oof”.

“Get up you punk bitch!”

“Franklin what the fuck-”

He was grabbed again, tossed back onto his bed. Franklin straddled him, shaking Lamar by the collar.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He said, Lamar getting another slap to the face.

“What in the fresh fuck is you talkin’-” Another slap.

“15 fuckin’ missed phone calls! 15! Are you fuckin’ nuts?!”

Lamar’s eyes practically popped out of his head. 15? What the fuck did he say to him?

“I did what-”

Franklin shook him even harder by his shirt, stretching the material out. He was straining his voice now.

“You had me worried like fuckin’ crazy! I thought you was in some sorta fuckin’ trouble again! You blew my phone up when I told yo ass not to, and then didn’t fuckin’ pick up after I heard the first couple special messages you left me!”

Oh God. This was it. He told Franklin everything, didn’t he? The color drained from his face.

“Oh fuck me..” He mumbled, putting a hand over his eyes.

“What?!” Franklin yelled, shaking him again. Lamar’s head was pounding.

“Franklin.. what.. what I say on there? I barely remember a thing, let alone callin’ yo ass.”

“You seriously don’t fuckin’ remember?!”

“Yeah. Seriously, man.”

Franklin slid off of him, putting a palm to his face. He breathed through his nose hard, trying to calm down. Lamar realized he was drenched from the small downpour outside. Pellets of rain thumped against the window as a reminder that the storm never went away.

“You.. fuck, man. You started sayin’ all this shit about how bad a fuckin’ friend you was. That you, you was hidin’ all this shit and couldn’t live another day without tellin’ me.”

Okay. Good. He didn’t tell him the truth.

“You told me you wanted to die dog. Didn’t realize yo dumbass was safe n sound asleep in yo fuckin’ bed.”

“Oh.”

“…’Oh’? Is that really all you have to say?!”

“F, I was jus’ drunk. It was dumb of me, I know, but I.. It’s nothing, okay?”

“Don’t do this shit to me man! I’ve already dealt with enough of yo fuckin’ schemes n shit-”

“Frank.”

“It’s 3 am! You had Chop barkin’ his Goddamn head off the whole night!”

“Franklin.”

“Then I race my ass over here to find yo drunkass self passed out in bed-”

“Franklin.”

“What! What?! You finally gonna put yo two cents in for once?”

“Stop yelling. My head hurts like a bitch right now.”

“Good! I’m fuckin’ glad because I know mine does as well you fuckin’ asshole!”

Lamar looked pathetically up at him. This was getting out of hand. He let it go on for too long.

“Why did you come here then?” He croaked.

“Because you were fuckin’ sobbin’ into the phone! All I heard was you cryin’ like mad fuckin’ crazy and it scared me. You don’t ever do that shit, not even when you fucked up.”

“How much I say?”

“I got the first message pretty fuckin’ clear, the rest was jus’ incoherent bullshit. I barely got through the second one before speedin’ on over. You sounded hurt n shit, I thought something happened. I thought you was a goner.”

“No weird shit though right? I ain’t say nothin’ bad?”

“What? Lamar, what the fuck are you on about? I just told you what yo ass cried out to me! I couldn’t even understand any of the other messages!”

“Okay, okay. That’s.. good I guess.”

“That’s good? Fuckin’ hell, why did I come here? You- ugh!”

“Franklin. Can you jus’ sit down before you pop a fuckin’ blood vessel? You stressin’ for nothin’.”

If anything, Lamar should be the one stressing right now. He had been so close to confessing without knowing. Franklin sat next to him, arms crossed.

“Franklin.”

“What.”

“I’m sorry that I scared you. I didn’t mean to.”

“Well good fuckin’ job, you accomplished that real well didn’t you.” He said, sarcastically applauding him.

“I thought you were cutting me off for good homie. You think I was gon’ let that happen?”

“Lamar, that still ain’t a good reason to freak me out like that in the middle of the night.”

“It’s only cuz you hadn’t been listenin’ to me bro. I’ve been wanting to tell you somethin’ so badly lately and I never.. got the chance.”

“Then do pray fuckin’ tell LD, what the fuck is so important that you had to do this shit to me at 3 AM!”

“Franklin man, c’mon-”

“No! Don’t start!”

Franklin stood, heading for the door as he spoke. He stopped in the threshold.

“Tell me what the fuck is goin’ on with you, or I’m leavin’ yo sad ass here to wallow. I mean it L.”

“Don’t be like that. Please man. I want to, but I-”

“Jus’ fuckin’ tell me! Why won’t you tell me?!”

“Frank-”

“I dragged my ass all the way over here for nothin’ didn’t I? You ain’t dead, you ain’t sayin’ shit, you jus’ bein’ so- ugh! Fuck!” He threw his hands up, exiting Lamar’s bedroom.

“I’m done man, fuck this.”

“Franklin wait- don’t go-” He pleaded.

Franklin did nothing but leave him stranded again, thunder rolling far in the distance. Lamar ran after him as he walked out the door, hearing the rain heavily hit the pavement. His mind was racing far ahead of him. Franklin was leaving, he was leaving for good, and he couldn’t. He can’t. That’s not how it’s supposed to work. Franklin can’t do that, he can’t-

His mind had gone so far away, that he didn’t even realize that he had tackled Franklin to the ground. The two of them fell to the ground with a loud splat, followed by sounds of pain.

“Lamar what the fuck?!”

“Don’t go! Fuckin’ hell, I gotta chase yo ass and for what?!”

“Get off me dog!”

“No!” Franklin was pinned beneath him. The raindrops that rolled off of Lamar hit him in the face.

It reminded Lamar of when they were younger, playing football or whatever sport they could outside even as the deluge soaked them both to the bone. The roles had been reversed, with Franklin constantly knocking him down onto the grassy sludge. They got quite an earful from Lamar’s mom as they tracked mud in the house upon returning. It was a memory amongst many that stuck with him like glue. Those memories couldn’t go away. Franklin couldn’t go away.

Tears mixed in with the rain as he yelled out to him.

“You fuckin’ idiot! Why you makin’ this shit so hard for me?! You keep leavin’ before I can even finish!”

Franklin struggled to break free from Lamar’s grip on his wrists, huffing as he looked away.

“Look at me!” Lamar shouted, grabbing his face with a free hand.

“I didn’t wanna fuckin’ tell you like this, but Jesus Christ! For fucks sake you stubborn asshole-”

He was doing it. He bit the fucking bullet.

“You know how we got into that fuckin’ argument last week? When I told you that I was dealin’ with that whole love thing, I wasn’t talkin’ about yo Aunt, a hoe, nobody else! I was talkin’ about you!”

Lamar threw himself off of him, stumbling backwards. Franklin propped himself onto his elbows. He finally said it. He said it, and he was far from finished.

“But you didn’t wanna fuckin’ listen! And now I’ve fucked our friendship over for a second time! All because of you! This whole thing has been drivin’ me fuckin’ insane lately, and I couldn’t do shit about it! I tried so, so hard to avoid this, but nothin’ ever goes my way, huh?! Every time I think a plan of mine’ll work, it doesn’t! You know why?!”

Opening his arms wide, he spoke loud and clear, finishing his rant.

“Lemme remind you: I’m Lamar fuckin’ Davis! The biggest fuckin’ fool, fuckin’ clown, fuckin’ whatever you wanna call me! Lamar Davis, the most naïve bitch on the planet! Fuck me for thinking that this would ever go well!”

Now it was his turn to leave. But he didn’t go back into his house. His legs moved for him, walking in no particular direction. He just needed to get away from Franklin, not caring about how damp his clothes were now. He was shaking, and he didn’t know if it was from the rain or the range of emotions he was flying through.

He could hear a pair of sneakers squishing behind him. Franklin was running, and he was catching up fast.

“Ay Lamar! Get back here!”

Oh fuck. He was chasing after him now. That’s not good. Lamar started running himself, not caring about possibly slipping and falling on his ass. Only a few hours ago, he had told himself he couldn’t be without Franklin. Now all he wanted to do was run away.

“Lamar!”

Fuck fuck fuck.

He wasn’t fast enough. The second time they hit the ground, Lamar had the wind knocked right out of him, the duo splashing right into a puddle. Hands gripped his shoulders, flipping him around.

“Lamar!”

There were only a few instances in his life where Lamar felt small. He’d always been big in character, big in height, and according to him, big in other ways. But this was one of those moments where he couldn’t help but flinch, wanting to collapse in on himself. He was so tired.

“If you gon’ beat my ass or somethin’ jus’ get it over with.” He sighed, shutting his eyes tight.

When he felt nothing but raindrops touch his face, he opened his eyes slowly. His heart sank when he did. Franklin was visibly upset, guilt in his eyes.

“Lamar. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

A wave of déjà vu washed over him. Oh. So that’s what precognition meant. Motherfucking psychic lady.

“You should’ve jus’ told me man.”

“I tried dog. You wouldn’t hear me out.”

“Cuz I.. I thought you got with someone. I didn’t wanna hear it straight from yo mouth if you was.”

He shifted up, Frank sitting in his lap.

“Y’know I always thought that.. Part of me jus’ kinda thought that it’d always be the two of us. I’m never gonna get Tanisha back.. but you..”

Franklin looked away.

“You a crazy ass loyal motherfucker man. You stuck by my side no matter what, and some dumbass part of me was convinced that you… I mean fuck, so many times I thought you would jus’ flat out say something. Somethin’ so I could stop waiting for the one other person I had known forever to just say that they fuckin’ loved me like that.”

Lamar blinked, rainwater getting into his eyes. It wasn’t quite as serene as his dream had been, nor was it verbatim, but Lamar didn’t care. There was something about the way the water droplets sat along Franklin’s face, highlighted by a streetlight behind him that made him look angelic.

“When you started actin’ all weird it jus’.. made me so fuckin’ mad man. I thought you was gon’ pick someone else over me. Jus’ like Tanisha did.”

“Franklin..”

“So why didn’t you jus’ say somethin’ sooner? I waited. Hell, I don’t even know why I did at first.”

“Franklin.”

“But now I’m realizin’ you must not have even noticed yoself what you was feelin’, when I fuckin’ did. I noticed and you didn’t and-”

Lamar grabbed him by the face, grip surprisingly strong after being in the rain.

“How many times do I gotta say yo name for you to hear me?”

The rain kept falling, never slowing for either one of them. Yet, it felt like time stopped. Lamar chuckled lightly.

“Franklin Clinton and Lamar Davis. Two of the dumbest motherfuckers in LS. Homies for life.”

“Yeah. Homies for life.”

His hands never left Franklin’s face. He pressed their foreheads together, lowering his voice.

“I love you, bum ass bitch.”

“Yeah yeah. I love you too.”

He kissed the top of his head, moving his hands down to embrace him in a tight hug. When was the last time they did this? As he thought it over, he could hear Franklin’s voice muffled against his chest.

“Don’t scare me like that again. Next time save us both the trouble n jus’ spill yo heart out. Dramatic motherfucker.”

The words had no malice in them, Lamar feeling him smile as he said it. He kissed him once more, and they just sat in the rain, feeling it bathe them in fond memories.

//plz listen to remember the rain by 21st century it’s so good 💔😭 anyway ya i decided to end it on a sorta happy note !!!!! franklin is a stubborn guy smh,, sorry for any typos lol also i rlly had no idea where i wanted to go with this so sorry if it’s weird or whatever

[modecaisnow]

The Immobile Man

**18 Years or Older: The following includes themes of: immobility, XSSBHM, unrealistic situations, and homoerotic self-pleasure. REMEMBER: The relationship portrayed in this story is an unrealistic caretaker-client relationship – it is okay to read and enjoy these works of fiction, but what is essentially a “boss-worker” relationship should not take place in the real world. ENJOY!!**

Sam is a new Home-Care nurse. He is excited and anxious about meeting his first ever client! However, he quickly realized he may have bitten off more than he could chew...

It was my first day as a home-care nurse. I was excited to get out in the world and help people, but I didn’t know what was in store for me. My professors and Clinical Instructors always said that “your first patient will be one you never forget.” The thought of that was just as exciting as it was worrying. This must be the place, I thought to myself as I stood outside of a single-floor home. The outside of the house was not well-kept. The yard was a mess, and the siding was covered in green moss. I double-checked the address on my patient files and then triple-checked just to be sure. After a deep breath, I approached the house and walked up the two, small cement steps. On the door, was a sign saying: “All packages: Please go around to side window and drop it in window. Thanks.” I didn’t think much of it – in fact, things like this were expected for clients like this one. According to the file, the patient was Mr. Mike Jacobs. He had “limited mobility” and required a “high level of assistance with all activities of daily living” and “activity monitoring.” I was not told much more than that – I was only told the information I needed to know. How he got hurt, or whatever rendered him with limited mobility, was not part of the information I needed. I knocked on the door. -Silence- I knocked a second time. -Silence- I knocked a third time. “Yeah… who’s there?” Called a thick, deep voice from inside. I slowly opened the door, after the baritone voice called from deep within the house. “My name is Sam, and I’m a Home Health Nurse. I’m here to help Mr. Jacobs…” “That’s…me!” The man coughed. “Come in! I’m in… the bedroom here!” I slowly opened the front door. Immediately, I was met with a musky, damp smell. I covered my nose at first, but then stopped as I felt it was unprofessional. After regaining my composure, I slowly walked through the house and toward the bedroom. The carpet itself was torn and stained, small wheel treads were indented into the carpet, all leading from the couch to the kitchen. The entire house looked like it was on the TV Show “Hoarders.” Old boxes and bags cluttered the rooms in large heaps. The furniture was snapped and broken. Everything was covered in dust – even the appliances in the kitchen. The heaps of trash managed to pile almost as tall as me, but at 5’6” (167cm) I was not terribly tall anyway. Inside the kitchen, was a broken-down mobility scooter. The wheels had all burst, and the seat was crushed and flattened like a pancake. “I’m in here… come in, boy!” The man wheezed. I slowly opened the door and my jaw dropped. In the middle of the room were two, full-sized beds resting side-by-side, connected by a plank of wood in the front that was nailed into the bed frames. The legs of the bed frames were reinforced and wooden blocks, as well as books, were shoved up under the sagging frame to help add extra support. The mattresses on the frames were both flattened until they were no thicker than a pillow, both overwhelmed by the mound of blob-like lard on the bed. Next to the blob was a rolling cart with one pizza box on top – a plethora of empty boxes was scattered along the floor. “I’m Mr. Jacobs… you can call me… by that… or by ‘Sir’… either is fine.” The man was immense. I was surprised he even managed to muster the energy to speak between mouthfuls. This man was not human – his size was not physically possible. In fact, I had to rub my eyes just to be sure, and I looked around for hidden cameras to see if I was on a prank show or if this were a test. This man was easily over 1000 pounds, or maybe even 1400 or more pounds. Either way, it was a sight to see – he must have been the fattest man around, or even alive. Wobbling dangerously close to the end of the bed was the blob’s belly. Flabby, doughy piles of flesh spilled outward and sagged down from his front. The looming mass of blubber covered most of the mattresses beneath the tub of lard. At the front of Mr. Jacobs’ belly was a deep belly button, which must have been out of his reach for a long time. The cavernous belly button marked the division between two vast, distended folds of pure fat that sat atop each other. The bottom fold, which forced the mattress to sink downward, spilled all around the fat man’s frame, where it rounded his sides and became a series of substantial love-handles that oozed over his gelatinous, mammoth thighs. I could not distinguish the different segments of the obese glutton’s legs. It was just a series of rolls and folds piled against each other. Every roll sagged down towards his fat feet, where the lard oozed around his long-lost ankles. The fat from his thighs blended in with his massive rear, which spilled out far behind him. Two gigantic globes of ass fat smothered multiple pillows that were placed at the head of the bed. Even while standing in front of the blob, I could make out his wide load of a rear. My eyes were drawn back to his belly button. It looked deep and was starting to become hidden away by the looming roll of flesh that swelled over it. At the crest of the blob’s belly, were two massive moobs. These moobs splayed off to the sides of the man’s belly with two nipples that were easily the circumference of my hands. The bottom half of his fattened areolas had started to become hidden as his own expanding chest fat forced them to point downward. Neck, shoulder, and upper arm fat all blended into what seemed like one massive, sagging mound of dough. The only distinction was the pillow-sized forearms that emerged from his flab-engulfed upper arm. Due to the daunting magnitude of the fat mounds that sagged off of his side, Mr. Jacobs’ arms were stuck almost parallel to the ground. However, it just seemed to make it easier for him to eat since he only needed to grab another slice of pizza and bend his elbow. Everything about this man was fat. Similarly to how he did not have a discernable neck or ankle, this man’s wrist was also engulfed in lard by his own gluttony. The seemingly most mobile part of him was his fingers. The cheeks on both sides of his face were swollen to the point where they started to impinge on his field of view. “I-I-I’m…um…” I stuttered as I continued to ogle the blob. “Surprised?” The man interjected as he swallowed the last slice. “You’re surprised to see me… ain’t ya?” He grabbed the empty pizza box and shoved it off the rolling cart. It fell to the ground with the rest of the empty garbage that fell victim to his ravenous feeding. “Um.. no… well… I meant to say, I’m Sam. I’m your new nurse.” “Fuckin’ finally!” The man wheezed and panted. His massive moobs heaved up and down with each labored breath. “I have a ton... of shit for… you to do… I’m too big to… do things on my own…” “Yes, sir! That’s why I’m here.” Mr. Jacobs quickly got me to work. He rattled off a long list of things, but before I could do anything though, I had to take a baseline of his vitals. When I took out the blood pressure cuff, Mr. Jacobs laughed at me. He pointed to his arm and laughed some more. There was no way that the cuff could fit around his arm. I then approached him and asked for his wrist, so I could measure his pulse. That did not work either. The gluttonous blob relaxed, and the immense heaviness of his arm alone was too heavy for me to hold. I tried to dig my fingers into the fat that engulfed his wrist, but I could not find a pulse. As I dove my fingers deeper and deeper into his fat arm, I was met with only more lard. I then attempted to maneuver to his neck, but I couldn’t find it. I leaned against the side of his belly, and slid my fingers between his chins and tried to find a pulse in his neck, but like his wrist – there was way too much blubber. “So… what are…my vitals, boy?” “I-I- um…” The fat man laughed, “Couldn’t do it… could ya? Don’t worry… it ain't the first time... The other nurses… failed too… You’re lucky ya cute… I gave… other nurses a harder time… How bout you… get to doing… what I ask ya?” Mr. Jacobs had me running around the entire house doing work for hours. I first needed to remove all the garbage from his room. I picked up dozens and dozens of empty pizza boxes, heaps of fast food bags, and even threw away old, torn clothing that fit him a few hundred pounds ago. Afterward, I did the same through the rest of the house. Once finished, he then asked me to add some extra support to his bedframes. I grabbed bricks from outside of the house and piled them beneath the buckling frame. I even grabbed extra wooden planks and hammered them into the sides of the bed frame, which was starting to crack and snap. Once a few more boards of plywood were added to the sides, as well as underneath, the frame seemed a lot sturdier. Mr. Jacobs scoffed at my work without even saying a thank you. He then asked for me to rub his belly for him – he was far too full and tired. Besides, the lack of mobility combined with his impinged range of motion stopped the obese man from even being able to reach his belly button. The man had eaten until he was beached under all his lard and stuck on his own bed in a reclined position. “Sir, I’m not sure if that’s part of my job-“ “-I don’t… give a fuck… I’ll pay extra… just rub me, boy!” I pulled over a chair, one of the few that were not broken, and set it down near his side. I leaned over his fat thigh and started to caress his weighty love-handle. Despite being in a haze from his belly-bursting fullness, Mr. Jacobs reached lazily under his moob and took out his phone. He quickly started typing away, with his mouth hung open as he moaned from my rubbing him. I rubbed in clockwise circles – this was the best way to help with digesting food. The immobile, beached whale of a blob continued to type and type on his phone. He then reached back under his doughy moob and pulled out his wallet. His fat fingers lazily fumbled for his credit card, which he eventually managed to pull out. He rested his credit card on top of his chest as if it were a desk. “What are you doing, Sir?” “What... do you think? I’m buying… more food… It’s almost dinner time… you want… anything from… Chan’s, boy?” “Sir, I don’t think you should be eating. I’m here to get you active again. You should be ordering something light, with low calories-“ “I’mma stop you there,” The looming mountain range of lard lazily reached his fat hand down and grabbed the collar of my shirt. He pulled me in close, nearly forcing me onto my feet and pulling me in against his love handles. My face was centimeters from his fat nipple. “You are here… to feed me… to do as I say… to rub me… You ain’t changing… anything about me… Those other nurses… tried and failed… I’m meant to be like this… I’m a real fuckin’ man… Back in the day… weight was a sign… of power and wealth… Hate to break it to ya, boy… but you’ll never stop me… from eating…” With each lethargic wheeze and every baritone murmur, the sea of lard that I was being pulled up to rippled and wobbled. The bed groaned and popped loudly. I could hear some of the wooden planks start to splinter as I was now leaning against the already weakening bed frame. I just looked up at the swollen fat face that glared down at me. Mr. Jacobs let go of my shirt, and I peeled away from his gelatinous flesh. After the incident, I decided to just keep rubbing his belly. Mr. Jacobs huffed and puffed angrily as he completed his order. He commented that I would only be able to eat the left-over scraps if I behaved. I did not want him to contact my supervisor – this was my first real client and something was interesting about him – this huge, mountainous tub of lard. Under my fingers and palms was a sea of soft lard. The blubber only seemed to wobble and slosh as my hands gently caressed its canvas. My eyes gazed across the landscape of fleshy tones in front of me. The size. The vastness. The weight of it all. It started to feel…hot. I could feel my mouth water as I continued to gawk at the obese glutton – the man who ate himself into immobility. The man who beached himself on his bed after years of stuffing himself until his belly was about to burst. -DING-DONG- The ringing doorbell knocked me from my euphoria. I looked up at Mr. Jacobs and he took his fat hand and shoved me away. He wheezed and demanded I answer the door, and I did as he asked. At the door were three delivery boys, each carrying about 5 bags of Chinese food in each hand. I had them put the bags on the ground, and I brought them in for Mr. Jacobs. He had me empty the bags and place the cartons and boxes of food on the rolling cart next to him. There was more than enough food to feed over 20 adults. I pulled out dozens of boxes of white rice, several trays of lo mein, a large container packed with sauce packets, and over a dozen containers of sauce drenched General Tsao’s Chicken. This was only from the first few bags. As fast as I was pulling them out, Mr. Jacobs was ripping into them. He tossed the silverware and chopsticks aside. All he did was bring the containers up to his face and dump the contents into his fat mouth. I watched in awe as the gluttonous beast ate and ate. It was as if he had never eaten before in his life. “Jack me off… while I eat…” The obese glutton commanded. “What? I really don’t think I can-“ “-You’re job boy… is to…mmmfff… help me… with my… needs, right?” “…yes, sir…” “Don’t keep… me waiting!” He immediately returned to stuffing himself. I walked over to the front of his vast belly. Bits of rice and chicken fell down from his mouth and rolled down the large sloping gut. I started to slide my hand under the front of his stomach, reaching deeper and deeper inside. The warmth of his soft, ravenous belly smothered my hand under its vast weight. Next, my wrist slid underneath. Then my forearm. Then my elbow. Finally, my upper arm slipped under his gut, and still, I did not feel any signs of a fat pad nor dick. Mr. Jacobs leaned forward. The weight of his belly felt increasingly heavy and pinned my arm against the bed. Mounds of looming belly fat rolled forward, spilling against the side of my head as I was stuck in place. He looked down at me from atop his mountain range of blubber and scoffed. With a mouth filled with fattening, greasy slop, he commented, “Ya never… jacked off… a man like me have ya?” I shook my head. “Well… ya can’t… reach it… like that… gotta go in… from the side… less fat in… the way…” He leaned back and panted heavily. I felt his heavy gut ease off of my arm. I slid it out and walked back over to his side. I leaned over his fat, immobile leg. My tight torso sinking into his blubbery thigh. I reached my hand deep underneath his love handle. This time, I was able to trace my fingers along the mounds of fat of his thigh right up to where it met his fat pad. My boney fingers felt the hairs on his fupa. I walked my fingers down, feeling a crevasse form in the supple, warm sack of lard. I slid my hand inside the cleft. My entire arm was submerged under the landscape of pure blubber. Mr. Jacobs moaned softly and continued to stuff his face. The hole was not tight by any means, but it was warm and soft. My fingers alone caused tiny ripples throughout the fat pad. Once I was wrist-deep in his fupa, my hands felt something hard and wet. I wrapped my fingers around it and started to gently play with it. I looked up at the obese glutton and he laughed. That was not his dick. I pulled my arm out, and inside my hand was a small vibrator. It was covered in partially dried cum and covered in hairs. Mr. Jacobs chuckled and mentioned that right before he got too fat to touch himself, he stuffed a vibrator in his fat pad. That way he could wirelessly turn it on to use it, but it had run out of batteries. He finished by saying he completely forgot it was there, a few hundred pounds later. I left the device aside and reached back in. My head was pressing into his love handle as I was shoulder deep under his fat. The heavy lard sloshed and rippled against me. I could feel his fat churning and his fupa trembling as his cock and balls prepared for my fingers. As my fingers snaked into the warm, hairy cave, whose walls were drenched in some viscous cream, I felt the tip of a fat-engulfed cock. Mr. Jacobs trembled and moaned loudly with a mouthful of food. His tip nearly surged with life as I touched and played with it. I clutched onto whatever I could. The mounds of fat consumed my hand as I adjusted inside the cavernous fat pad. Mr. Jacobs continued to eat and grunt loudly. I could hear the slurping and squelching of the moist fupa as I started to jack off the obese glutton. -SCHLURP-SCHLURP-SCHLURP-SCHLURP- The moans came out louder and louder as I continued to play with the fat man’s dick. Mr. Jacobs even stopped stuffing his face to tilt his head back and moan with pleasure. The bed began to groan, and the legs started to snap as the immobile ocean of fat started to use all of his energy to hump my closed fist. I held my hand still, with my fingers tightly holding his dick, and let him rock his hips back and forth as much as he physically could. Beads of sweat started to trickle down his love handles and land on the back of my head. His tiny, fat-engulfed dick slid in and out of my fingers as I continued to clench tightly. With one last, powerful thrust, I felt his entire body surge and the tip of his meat twitch. A final smack from the side of his immense landscape of fat hit the back of my head. -SNAP-SNAP-TTTHHHUUUDDDD- The bedframe snapped to pieces. We collapsed to the ground. The back of my head was struck by a tsunami of lard and blubber. Mr. Jacobs just moaned loudly as his balls emptied into his fupa, lubricating my fingers. I slowly pulled out my fingers and they were covered in seed. I walked into the bathroom to clean off my hand, then returned with a towel to begin cleaning him off. Mr. Jacobs started to eat again, stuffing his face with more and more Chinese food. He dumped containers of rice and tilted platters of chicken towards his open mouth. I barely even noticed him chewing – as if he just swallowed it all whole. The obese man, immobilized by an ocean of flab, spent the rest of the night either eating food or commanding me to cook for him. Before it was time for me to leave, I did one last clean up around his house and dragged the broken-down mobility chair into his room. “Would you like me to try and get you a new chair, Sir?” He lazily looked up from stuffing himself, “Hmm… no… don’t bother… Too puny… I’m too heavy…” “I can try to find a larger one…” “No… better off… putting wheels on… a bed, boy…” I shrugged my shoulders and turned around. Before I could take a step, I heard an ominous creak from the floorboards and Mr. Jacob grunting loudly. Soon after, I felt a fat hand cup my rear-end and squeeze firmly. The obese glutton moaned softly and licked his lips. He leaned over as much as he could as if trying to whisper in my ear. My crotch lept in my pants. “Don’t go… too far… boy… Daddy’s gonna… need ya… again…” He huffed between breaths. I smiled. He was quickly starting to grow on me – something about his confidence. Over the next few days, I continued to assist him in all his daily activities. He would just eat away all day and watch me work, and I would periodically try to get him moving. I managed to set up a pulley system above his bed which he could grab and hoist himself up if he laid down, and it doubled as a way to lift his belly. I would hook a tarp up to the pulley and slide it under his gut. The device would lift up his belly, and I would be able to clean underneath it, among other things. At the end of my first week with him, Mr. Jacobs asked me to move in permanently. He would pay for my living expenses and continue to pay me for my services. I didn’t even need to think – I already knew I wanted to. Thus, began a truly great first-client experience.

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Lloyd Dobler

(Not my gif)(Requested via message)

(I kept the first date because I thought it was cute. Hope you don’t mind!)

- You and Lloyd technically didn’t meet until after he asked you out.

- Remember when you first went to highschool and you had no idea that half the school “existed”; for lack of a better term. And every year you would somehow encounter someone that you didn’t know went to your school but now that you did know, you would just see them everywhere? That was you and Lloyd.

- It was after you entered your senior year of highschool that Lloyd had first seen you in the hallways. He had a thing for you the moment he saw you and spent the entire year arriving at one of his classes late because he just couldn’t take his eyes off you whenever you stood and waited for class to start.

- The only reason he didn’t ask you out during the year is because he just couldn’t work up the nerve, especially knowing that he’d have to see you the rest of the year if you rejected him.

- But soon enough, graduation came and he figured that he just had to ask you out or else he was very likely going to explode.

- So he went to “his office” and searched the phone book for your name, scanning through page after page until he found it and nervously dialed up the number.

- Well, I think you know how that phone call went. He spent the first minute or so rambling which gave you the time to skim through your yearbook and see exactly who was calling. And frankly... you were surprised to see that the voice on the other end of the phone was such a handsome boy.

“Lets go out. You wanna go out?”

- Let’s be honest here, Lloyd won’t relent until he gets; at least, one date with you. And why would you refuse? Like I said before: you saw him and saw that he was cute. And though you really didn’t know him, what was the worst that could happen when going out with someone that was so nervous while just talking on the phone with you.

- So you agreed ...which prompted him to ask you to repeat yourself a few times because he was in complete disbelief. Afterwards, he told you he’d pick you up at eight before saying goodbye and prancing to the living room to yell with his nephew in celebration.

- For your first date, he took you to the graduation party where you spent the night mingling with a lot of his surprisingly chill friends and periodically meeting back with him while he played keymaster.

- Your night; and morning, went pretty much the same after that. You were forced to drive around for three hours to give Mike a ride home, then you stopped at 7/11 and talked while you walked the rest of the way to your house; whereupon getting there he confessed that he wanted to see you as much as he could.

- The two of you share your first kiss a few dates later which only takes about three days since he asks you to hang out nearly every day. He’d just parked in front of your house, both of you saying a cheerful goodbye when he leant over and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, one you’d returned happily before saying a final goodbye and getting out of his car.

- Well, after that the two of you are inseparable and neither of you would have it any other way, especially not him.

- Constant Pda. Lloyd is sort of obsessed with you and wants to be touching, kissing, and holding you whenever he can, no matter where you are.

-  Hugs. He likes to bury his face in the crook of your neck when you do. 

- Having his arm around you most of the time. He likes having you pressed into his side. 

- Neck kisses. 

- Quick and chaste kisses or long and passionate ones; depends on the mood. 

- Don't mind him, he’s just absentmindedly playing with your hair. 

- Handholding. He takes your hand whenever he can, he likes having that little connection. 

- Bridal carrying and piggyback rides. 

- He’s not a big pet name person; mainly because he loves your name, but if he knows that you like them, he’ll gladly use them just to make you happy. 

- Lets be real here; Lloyd would gladly cuddle with you for hours on end. He loves having you as close to him as possible so never worry about trying to snuggle with him, he wants you to. 

- He’s a big spoon and he will refuse to let you go if you really don’t have to leave. He’ll tell you to go back to sleep or tighten his arms around you whenever you shift, not wanting you to move away from him even for a moment. 

- He’s the best at comforting and reassuring you and he genuinely never gets tired of it. He’ll sit with and talk to you for hours if he has to because the most important thing for him is seeing you happy. 

-  He’s your own, personal cheerleader. He’s always at all your events, clapping the loudest, and turning towards whoever's next to him, saying a “she’s great, isn’t she?”. He’s so proud. 

- He’s always gushing about you to people, even before the two of you started dating. Corey has to hear about you constantly though deep down she really doesn’t mind. 

- Speaking of his friends, you end up getting close to a lot of them, especially Corey. You let her rant to you whenever she needs to and she reminds you how important and special Lloyd is. 

- He sort of tells Corey and his other girlfriends everything so be prepared for her to know if you’ve “made it” or not or when you’ve had your first kiss. She tells you pretty much everything about her so it’s sort of a fair deal. 

- Getting close with his sister and nephew. You love watching him and the little boy play with each other and he loves the fact that you think it’s cute whenever he does. 

- His sister loves to tease him; and the two of you honestly. 

- He never gets annoyed while he waits for you to get ready. He likes having the excuse to watch you while you do your makeup or brush your hair, or just helping you choose an outfit and put it on. 

- Tons of compliments. He thinks you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread and you best believe you’re going to know that. 

- Lloyd is ...so respectful? His mother raised him right and there’s so many points in your relationship where you wonder how you somehow managed to hit the jackpot. 

- I’m just gonna say it: he’s a pushover. You have Lloyd wrapped around your little finger so be nice to him because you’re his world and he’d do anything for you. 

- If you ask him to carry you’re things, he’ll do it. Ask him to do something he normally hates, he’ll do it. Ask to do something most boys would say no to, he’ll do it. He just loves seeing you happy. 

- He sort of jumps to agree with a lot of what you say; especially in the beginning of your relationship, because he wants you to think that the two of you are really compatible and that he’s the perfect guy for you. 

- Having a bunch of pictures together. He certainly has a bunch of pictures of you. 

-  Watching him train, fight, workout, etc. He pushes himself as hard as he can to impress you, occasionally hurting himself because he’s distracted ...so maybe it isn't a good idea for you to be there with him. 

- This boy lives for your praise. Tell him he’s handsome or that he did a good job and he’s all smiles. 

- He sort of loves hearing you talk and learning more about you. He eats up all your stupid stories like they’re the greatest things in the world. 

-  Talking on the phone pretty much everyday. He usually calls to say good morning or goodnight, or to see if you want to hang out. 

- Occasionally deep conversations. Sometimes something one of you says will just spur a sort of existential explanation/speech that neither of you really anticipated.

- Sooo many dates. You have at least three every week. Like I said: you’re inseparable. 

- He’s pretty much willing to do anything with you. He just likes being in your company, he doesn’t really care what you’re doing together.

- Going to convenience stores. 

- Beach dates. 

- Taking walks around gardens and other pretty places. You admire the scenery, he admires you. 

- Driving around with him all night. You don’t even have to talk for most of it, you just enjoy exploring the town and listening to the radio with him. 

- Cuddling in the early hours of the morning because you’ve spent all night out with him. 

- Sitting together in his backseat, either making out or “making it”. 

- He’s always prepared wherever you go. He always has whatever you need and is so considerate that you just want to kiss him. Food, entertainment, extra coats; you name it and he’s got it. 

- He would absolutely be the type of boyfriend to go out and buy you pads. He’s got a sister that he lives with and a friend group that pretty much consists of all girls; I’m sure he’s done it before. 

- You think you’re gonna be free of him when you get sick? Oh ho ho honey; not a chance. He’s calling to check in on you every few hours and stopping by to take care of you himself. 

- He’s not an extremely jealous person, and he’s good at acting nonchalant when he is so you rarely know when he’s actually feeling that way. He’s respectful and he trusts you so he isn’t gonna make a big deal out of you being around other guys, especially since you’re both so obviously in love. 

- And he’s got eyes only for you; there’s no reason for you to ever feel jealous. 

- He’s protective of you in the cutest way possible. He’s always sweetly checking in on you, making sure you’re okay and looking out for you whenever you’re together. You’ll never have to worry about stepping on broken glass again. 

- The two of you rarely ever fight so when you do, it’s over something serious or because someone else has caused a rift between the two of you. He never yells at you, he never really insults you, he mainly just wants you to talk to him, but believe me, when it comes down to it, he’ll argue and argue until one of you can’t take it anymore; usually you. 

- It’s usually you that leaves to get some space and cool off or think things over. In that time, if you refuse to see or talk to him, he’ll continue to call you until you finally agree to make up. He’s the king of persistency; as we saw in the movie. 

- His apologies are usually very heartfelt. A boombox playing your song™, flowers, messages on your answering machine that makes you want to cry. Believe me, it’s hard to stay mad at him.

- At first, he was really nervous to tell you that he loved you. He thinks that telling a girl he loves them is a really meaningful thing so he wanted to know that he meant it before he said it. But after he said it for the first time, he just couldn’t stop, and he loves hearing you tell him that you love him back. 

- It doesn’t matter what the future holds for the two of you; he’d follow you to the ends of the Earth. He wants to be with you for the rest of his life; it’s the one thing he’s really sure of. 

[none-but-y0u]

i'm lying (because i love you)

saw this post by @draculcid a few days ago and couldn’t get it out of my mind. then proceeded to write 1k words of a fic but then my motivation to write left because of school and then i suddenly got a burst of inspiration last night and i'm almost probably gonna polish it up for ao3 later but for now, here's a continuation of this beautiful headcanon tw: abuse, bruises, billy went back home to neil's after star court bcuz it works for the purpose of the story. ------------------------------------------------------------------------

So billy drives max over to steve's every few days because steve's place is the unofficial meet up for the party's D&D nights. and max comes in and she's angry and brash and everyone is like ??? and mike yells at lucas to calm his girlfriend down and max yells back that she's not lucas' girlfriend anymore and lucas is like wait whaaaa???

and its one of those nights when steve’s really tired and every loud noise is making him jumpy and anxious and he just can’t deal with them today. So ofc he yells at the boys before turning to max. Goes to yell at her too but she’s hunched over and folded in on herself and this is a different type of angry than usual. It’s laced with fear this time. And she looks up at him when he asks her what’s wrong, but nothing comes out, so el moves to sit next to her. Squeezes her hand before turning to steve with those round eyes of her and says “old billy”

And that news just...hits him for some reason. Settles uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach because it’s been a few months since Starcourt and Billy’s lost all that Californian thrill that he used to parade around town with.

And steve used to see billy often after it first happened because he was max’s designated driver, so his name appeared on the hospital guest sheet almost as often as Max’s, and ten times as more than Neil’s. And it’s not like he and billy really ever spoke. More of a head nod at the beginning and end of each visit while max’s rambles filled the space between them.

But once Billy healed enough to leave, he just went back to Neil’s because apparently the government doesn’t care too much about a traumatized teenager in a small town in the middle of bumfuck indiana leaking military secrets to the press.

And Steve hated the idea of Billy going back to Neil’s because, well, because he had just gotten used to seeing Billy without the bruises, and he realized he kinda liked seeing the blues of billy’s eyes sparkling during his rare moments of happiness. And he definitely wasn’t ready to see the old bruises start to make their appearance again.

And yet. For whatever reason, his worry never seemed to come true. The bruises never returned and everything was normal.

But months passed and steve didn’t have a reason to be around billy anymore which meant he went from “billy hargrove who steve saw almost every day” to “max’s step brother who drives her around” and steve hates to admit it but he misses the old billy. The one who would sometimes stare at steve from his bed when he thought steve wasn't watching. But Steve was always aware of billy. Has been from the moment he first set foot in town.

So when he hears this news, that “old Billy” has returned, he hates it because old billy was angry and scared all the time, and old billy didn’t look at him like he was important. Like he saw something else in him. Like he was worth it.

So steve nods at max. Tells the kids he’ll be back, and musters up what little courage he has left before trudging outside. Thinks about how if Robin were here, she’d tell him to turn around and go back inside. Let Billy be the angsty teen he tries so hard to come across as by himself. But his mind and nerves don’t seem to agree on logic too much these days, so he goes anyways.

And when he finally gets to the camaro, billy straightens up as if he wasn’t just hunched over, head in his hands, and breathing heavily. Looking exactly like his sister, not sister. And billy looks up at steve with a bored expression. Answers really dryly like he’d rather be anywhere than here cuz he’s cool for this.

But steve can see the bruises decorating the side of his face. Can see the unblemished skin on billy’s knuckles, and steve just knows. Old billy.

So steve, shaking and scared himself, finally works up the guts to ask billy to come inside. Says something like the kids just started a new D&D game and it won’t be done for a while, so billy might as well come inside so he doesn't freeze even though billy has always run hot.

And billy stays silent, narrows his eyes at steve, which makes steve’s heart beat in his chest because the knows they’ve moved past that night in november, but this is old billy and old billy is really good with his fists and steve doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of that again.

But eventually, billy agrees. Says something snarky like “i’ve always wanted to see how the other half lives.” Shuts the camaro off and opens the door, hitting steve on the leg because he’s still a boy who doesn’t know how to properly accept love and care with his words.

Inside, the party barely spares them a look, but he knows they’re doing it out of a respect thing because max is still frowning and closed off. And billy sees her, starts off ignoring her as he walks around touching things. But his eyes keep finding her and she keeps shivering because she still has some of that california blood in her. And eventually he walks over. Yells at her for leaving her jacket at home before yelling at steve for having a cold house. And steve says he can put the heat on or get her a blanket, but billy waves him off before shrugging off his prized leather jacket and throwing it at max.

And something warm flutters deep in steve’s stomach as he watches their interaction. Something he hasn’t felt since nancy and it builds and builds inside of him.

And then he sees the bruises on billy’s side. Sees the small splotches of red peeking through billy’s white shirt. Watches billy wince as he continues his exploration of steve’s house.

Eventually, steve tells billy to follow him. Has to say it with faux authority because billy loves to argue. When they finally do get to the bathroom, steve forces billy to sit, so he can clean his wounds because “you’re gonna get blood all over my mom’s new carpet, and she’s gonna kill me” which is a lie ofc because it’s not like she’s ever home, and even when she is, she’s only sober long enough to point out whatever flaw of steve she can pick at.

But they’re focusing on billy tonight, so steve brushes off the slight overshare, and billy seems to understand because he lets steve clean him up. Lets him run a warm rag over billy’s abs. Even let’s steve wash his hair (which is a whole other argument). And after, steve gives billy some of his clothes. They have different body sizes so the only thing that fits are a pair of sweats and one of steve’s old sweaters. But watching billy come out from the bathroom wearing his clothes sparks something in him, and he thinks that old sweater might just be his new favorite now.

After, billy starts looking around steve’s room. Says something like “so this where the magic happens” as he waggles his eyebrows. And steve goes to roll his eyes but there’s something about billy looking soft and cozy as he sinks into the cushion of steve’s bed. And that warm feeling is back, and it’s spreading this time. And he has to look away because he’s starting to think of scenarios of billy sleeping in his bed not just for one night but for forever, and...yeah he can’t think of that right now.

So he uses this moment of billy being slightly distracted to go to the kitchen. Makes up another lie about billy having to stay in his room for whatever reason and billy agrees because “your bed feels so good, harrington.” and steve can’t take it anymore and he runs out blushing.

He comes back a half hour later with slices of pizza but billy protests because he’s on a strict diet of not eating whatever the fuck they put in Sal’s pizza. But steve is prepared this time, so he counters saying they had extra and they have to eat it all or else the racoons will get it and everyone is full, so billy has to eat the rest of it.

And steve has already been really weird tonight. Doesn’t want to make it weirder by watching billy eat. So he grabs the closest thing to him which happens to be some romance book from the 1800s that he took out for a school assignment and never returned.

But he’s made his grave already, so he starts reading it. Or at least tries to, but soon the words start blurring together because he keeps getting distracted, and he resorts back to an old trick of reading everything out loud to help him stay on track. And then he remembers billy’s still in the room, and he’s looking at him with this curious look. And steve feels like he’s in grade school again, about to get scolded for being disruptive, so he stutters out an apology, but billy cuts him off, saying he can’t hear the book when steve’s sitting so far away.

and there’s plenty of room on the bed.

So somehow, steve finds himself, sitting on his bed, one side of his body pressed to billy’s, reading an 18th century romance book. and there’s heat being passed between them, but there’s heat filling inside steve too.

Time passes and they get lost in the story, but then suddenly, there’s a loud bang followed by screaming coming from the living room, and steve immediately jumps up, reaching for his bat, but then he hears dustin yell out a “sorry steve” followed by a chorus of “sorry, steve.”

And it takes a second, but his heart rate is slowing back down, but then he looks over at billy, and his eyes are wide and his fingers are digging into his side and he’s breathing really heavily like he’s on the verge of crying or something and steve gets it...old billy.

So steve waits with billy. Helps him calm down by pressing billy’s hand to his chest, to help ground him. Once he’s a little better, steve says he better tell them to quiet down, and billy protests saying “don’t be such a mom, harrington” but the jumpiness is still slightly there in his eyes so steve shrugs him off saying “they’ve already had the cops called on them once because the kids were being obnoxiously loud” and he doesn’t need it to happen again. He doesn’t tell billy the incident was an argument over a video game or that the cop was hopper who didn’t even drive over because it wasn’t serious and it didn’t involve el.

Later, when it’s getting late, nancy and jonathan show up to take the kids home. As Steve talks to them, he notices max and billy arguing in the corner of the room. Eventually he works it out. Billy can’t go home tonight, but max doesn’t want him sleeping in his car because who knows what’s out there.

So steve offers, well more like agrees, to max’s question of letting billy spend the night. Billy protests and steve shrugs it off, saying he has multiple rooms in his house and he can sleep in any of those.

After everyone leaves, steve goes to set billy up in a guest room, but he notices him being hesitant about sleeping alone. And steve’s been lying all day, so he figures that one more can’t hurt so he says that billy’s gonna have to sleep in his bed tonight because the other rooms are filled with his parent’s souvenirs from their many adventures. And it’s so obviously a lie because they were just in a perfectly clean room, but billy smirks anyways and says something like “if you wanted me in your bed, just say that.”

They get back to steve’s room and curl up under the covers. And it’s so cold in steve’s house, so obviously they have to conserve heat by practically spooning each other. And it’s steve’s bed and he’s the one that’s cold, so he gets to be the big spoon this time. Which grants him a “you planning on there being a next time, harrington?” steve hopes billy can’t feel his heart fluttering.

A few minutes later, they’re laying there, both still awake. Because the worst part about living in the middle of nowhere is the constant sounds of nature. Steve’s used to it for the most part, but billy keeps tensing in his arms. So steve lies one last time and says something like “i hate the sounds of outside so i have to sing myself to sleep. Do you mind?” and billy shrugs, saying no. and steve starts singing something that’s not a bedtime song and his voice is bad, but it makes billy laugh which makes steve’s chest flutter and that warm feeling is back with a vengeance. But this time steve welcomes it.

As the song ends, billy’s breath starts getting slower and quieter, and steve thinks he’s asleep so he whispers a “goodnight hargrove” into billy’s hair.

But his calculations are off, and billy stirs in his arms, and steve freezes, nose still touching billy’s curls. And then billy turns around, still wrapped in his arms and whispers a “thank you, pretty boy” into his chest before snuggling deeper into steve’s arms.

[writingtoforgetreality]

Happy Birthday - The Devil´s Daughter Chapter One (Lucifer Morningstar x Daughter!Reader)

[Lucifer-Masterlist], [The Devil´s Daughter-Masterlist]

Next Chapter 

Summary: Being the Devil´s daughter was not particularly fun but it was something you could not change, unfortunately. What would you do on your birthday when you finally had the chance to leave heaven? Leave everything behind and start over on Earth?

Words: 1,702

Warnings: Lucifer Season 5 Part 1 spoilers, nothing too crazy yet (pretty much introducing everything), Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, God, (Y/A) = your age, (Y/E/C) = your eye color

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

Heaven. Everyone has their own imagination of this place. Of how beautiful it is. Some people believe while others don´t. You, though, you did believe in heaven. How could you not? You had been there your entire life. Why, you ask? Well, you were an angel and angels were supposed to be up there. You were not an ordinary angel, though. What made you special was your father. The Devil. Yes, you heard that right. The daughter of the rebel, someone who was “disliked” by pretty much every single existing angel. We don´t need to talk about his reputation. Even though you had never met your father, you had been excluded from all angelic doings. Therefore, what other people saw as paradise, you saw as hell. Ironic, wasn´t it?

In all your years of existing, you had met a total of three other angels and, the one and only, God himself. Apparently, nobody else wanted to be close to you. You were the devil´s daughter, you did not have the best reputation either but you had never hurt anyone and never would. As you can imagine, being pretty much alone most of the time was rather boring. Once a day, Micheal came by to keep you company for a while. The two of you were close, he always made sure you felt comfortable and never judged you by your origin. It was not something you could change anyway. On lucky days, all three angels, archangels to be precise, were at your chambers. Mostly you guys chatted but sometimes you even had game nights, your absolute favorite. To say you were thankful for Michael, Gabriel and Raphael would be understatement. Without them, you would have gone insane ages ago. To you, heaven felt like a prison. You were not allowed anywhere but your chambers. “(Y/N), it´s for your own good, trust me.” God had told you this sentence way too many times and you were starting to grow tired of it.

While you were alone, the one thing you loved doing was watching Earth and humanity. How they lived so freely without any restrictions. It was no secret that you wanted to leave heaven as soon as you would turn (Y/A). By then, you would be allowed to go anywhere you liked, without God telling you what to do. Especially Michael listened to your complaints and wishes closely. You were sure you had his support since he had told you many times before. One person you did not tell. God. Maybe because you knew his answer. Maybe because he would try everything to keep you up here, even if you had not felt happy in years. Humans did not know you were the Devil´s daughter, your reputation down there would be just fine. At least that was what you had told yourself. It did not matter anyway, your mind was set. Your birthday was in one day. One day and you would finally be free. Away from the negative energy heaven and its angels were giving you. You knew you were about to make the right decision even if it meant that you disappointed God. But this was different from what your father did, right? Rebelling meant something completely different. You simply wanted to feel free and you knew you could never achieve that if you stayed in heaven. Would God hate you forever, like Lucifer?

“You know there´s literally no need for you to knock. We´ve talked about that, Mike.” you chuckled. Mike. That was the nickname you gave Michael a while ago. He seemed to like it so you kept calling him so.

“Yeah but what if you´re changing.” he entered, wearing his smirk. His appearance made you smile. Only a few more hours until you would be gone. Looking at him made you realize that, maybe, you would miss one thing. One angel. Him. He always had your back, told you stories about your father. Because of him, you knew you were nothing like Lucifer. Everything he had done? You used to be disgusted by sharing one bloodline. Michael, though, he helped you through all of your dark phases, telling you that you were so much better. Could do so much better. He knew you were no Devil. So did Gabriel and Raphael but Michael was another story. As mentioned, he meant a big deal to you, kind of being the father you always wished you had.

“What are you doing here? I thought you said you were busy today?” confusion was shown all over your face.

“Can´t miss my favorite´s birthday now, can I?” Micheal answered, stepping closer to your bed were you were currently sitting.

“Yeah...the big (Y/A), huh?” your eyes were focused on your hands in your lap. All of a sudden, you felt a wave of guilt hitting you. Micheal was far older than you yet had never left heaven. And you, you saw the first chance and were about to leave right away.

“You´re leaving, aren´t you?” you could feel his eyes on you but you did not dare to look at him. You would break down, something you definitely did not want to do.

“I never made a secret out of it.”

“Except for Dad.” Michael interjected.

“Except for him.” a door opening made the both of you look up.

“Father, we just talked about you.”

“Mike!” you glared at him.

“(Y/N), do you really think I don´t know what you´re planning?” God gave you a look of what you read as sympathy.

“But I never-”

“(Y/N). I´m God, did you forget that? I knew you were up to this for as long as you, trust me.” he made his way over to Michael and you, stopping right in front of you.

“You are mad.” again, your eyes drifted to your lap. You felt exposed in front of him.

“I`m not. I just want you to know that you will never feel this type of safety on Earth. Humans are...well, humans. You don´t belong there, (Y/N). You belong in heaven, like me, like Michael.” God tried reasoning. You were right, he wanted to change your mind.

“I might not be as safe but at least I would have freedom. Space to move. Not just one single chamber for eternity.” by now, tears of frustration were forming at the corner of your (Y/E/C) eyes. How could he be so convinced of himself? He had no idea of how you felt being locked up.

“(Y/N), sweetie, he just wants to keep you safe.” Michael said, putting one of his arms around your shoulders, something he did to calm you down.

“Are you serious, Mike? I thought you supported my plan? Have you been lying to me?” you shook his arm off of you, looking at him with a hurtful expression.

“No, never. I would never lie to you. (Y/N), just think this through.” Michael changed sides right in front of your eyes.

“Mike, you know I want that. You should, too.” by the last part you made sure to look straight at God.

“(Y/N), you´re special. Nobody will-”

“MAYBE I DON´T WANNA BE SPECIAL!” you screamed. This was the first time you ever raised your voice but you were so frustrated, so angry, that you did not know what else to do. Both, God and Michael were taken aback by your sudden outburst.

“All my life, you told me I was special. Well, for instance,  I wouldn´t say being Satan´s daughter is special when I have never met him! I´m an angel with wings like everyone else and I happen to be Lucifer´s offspring BUT that doesn´t make me special, okay? What´s special about being in my chambers all day long, doing literally nothing but daydreaming? I´m leaving and you won´t be able to change my mind. I´ll be gone soon then you don´t have to worry about me anymore.” by the time you finished, you were facing the wall away from Michael and God.

“If you are leaving, don´t think about coming back. I gave you everything. Kept you and your not so special wings safe and that´s what I get in return? I´ll see you when you´re begging on your knees in front of heaven´s doors. Happy Birthday, (Y/N).” and with that, God left.

“Sure, special wings. Just because they´re not black like the others.” you mumbled under your breath. When you turned around, you still saw Michael sitting on your bed, looking at you expectantly. He did not leave with God and you were not quite sure why he was still with you after everything he just said.

“What?” you questioned after the staring became too uncomfortable for you.

“Just know that I still support you. Go to Earth, have adventures. If you ever need anything...I´m only one prayer away. Happy Birthday, sweetie. See you soon.” he was about to turn towards your door when you ran into his arms, hugging him with tears in your eyes.

“Mike? Thank you for everything you´ve ever done for me. You were the only one who accepted me from the first moment on. My wings didn´t matter to you, my origin didn´t matter to you. I mattered and I am forever grateful for that. I´d be happy if you visited me once, Mike. You´ll always be welcome to stay with me. Besides, you´ve never been to Earth either. It could be fun.” your eyes shined when you looked at his face, releasing the hug.

“It could be, yeah. Bye, (Y/N), take care of yourself.” before you had the chance to say anything back, you found yourself alone in your chambers. This was it. The moment you had waited (Y/A) years for. A few more minutes and your life could finally begin. Really begin. Without anyone judging you by your wings, by your father. Just (Y/N). You were ready for it. What city would you visit first? Paris? London? No. There had always been a city you were drawn to. Ironically, it was called the City of Angels aka Los Angeles. LA. Name it as you want. That would be your first stop. What would be waiting for you there? You were eager to find it out.

~to be continued~

Next Chapter

Published (08/24/2020) by Cathy

Tags: @fandomqueen2003, @natashaashleymarvelromanoff, @severewobblerlightdragon, @tenderlyunlikelyexpert, @zoseph, @comicbucky-s, @dad-ee-drea (let me know if you want to be tagged <3)

[teeswrites]

Malibu- C.H

Malibu

Ashton, Calum, Luke, and Michael were dropped on Calum's couch staring at the ceiling. Beer cans all over the carpet, letting some remaining liquid drip from it and make stains on the grey soft fabric, where his socked feet were resting He didn't give a shit about it. They were pretty legless (*for those that don't know: legless is the same as veeeery wasted for us Aussie! :D), and he had bigger problems than some beer puddles over his apartment. Calum grabbed his phone and texted the first person on his dm. she. She had become the first person in everything lately

[2 pm]

Calum: 'wanna hang?'

She replied in seconds

'omw ;)'

He smiled and blocked his phone again letting his head drops on the couch's back. "I am fucking starving." Luke started to complain "yeah, me too. Hey, Cal" he let a groan that should be a "what?" to Michael "can you text your girlfriend and ask her to bring some food?" how the fuck he knew he had texted her. It might be the stupid smile across his stupid face. "she isn't my girlfriend" but he texted her the same way, she gently answered 'like pickles in your burger?' he smiled 'throw away the damn pickles' and let his head rests on the couch's back again and closed his eyes "she will stop at Maccas" "she's fucking awesome" "my best friend" Luke bragged "she should be your girlfriend, Cal" "not your business, Ash..." "Ouch! Easy, man, just saying" he swallowed a "fuck you" and just answered with silence. she should be his girlfriend, but he wasn't sure about what they were. When he heard the knock on the door his heart almost skipped the beats and he stood up faster than he wanted to "and he said that doesn't want anything serious" Ash teased "you like to tease, huh?" "you have no idea" "fuck me, Irwin" "I wish, but she'd be jealous" Calum showed to Ashton his middle finger and they laughed before he opened the door at the same moment she will knock again "hey" "'sup, Cal?" she stood on her tiptoes and pecked his lips, he grinned "come in" "thanks" she walked to Calum's living room and dropped her tired body on the couch, the college will kill her anytime. And soon. But she was there still "hey, boys!" "Hey!" they answered together "I bought some burgers" in the second after she put the bag over the coffee table Michael sat up and grabbed it like he did not eat for days and started to distribute between the other two dead bodies lying next to him. Calum sat down at her side pulling her closer to him and resting one hand on her waist and his head on her shoulder, her hands moving to his hair and caressing it smoothly. "'re you okay?" Luke asked his best friend "I'm good. Just tired" "studying lots?" "more than I can handle" the exams will come soon and the professors have no mercy with the students "they keep dropping mountains and mountains of knowledge in our heads" "you should rest a little" "yeah" "for your luck you have the best friend in the world" "what you have in mind?" "The question is 'what I have in my pocket?'" Luke took off his black, skinny jeans pocket a key. A key. she knew that key "Fucking Lord, what happened to your grandma?" "She is in Italy and the house is in my care" "lucky bastard" "I think we should spend the weekend there. What do you think?" "God, yes!" "What Thelma and Louise are talking about?" "grandma's Malibu house" "I'm in" "me too" "I don't remember to invite you two" "we clearly don't care" he chuckled "what about you, Cal?" "Yeah, it will be nice" he answered uninterested "wow, Calum how you are zippy today" "fuck yourself" Ashton laughed "you are too down today, eat something will make your mood get better" "'m not hungry" "what?! I practically had to beg for the McDonald's guy for a no-pickles burger" "sorry…" "what happened to you?" "Pms" they laughed "I swear to God I'll punch your face Ashton!" she twisted her body turned to his side to give him all her attention he grinned with her act and squeezed her waist "nothing to you worry about" "are you sure?" "yes" he whispered and kissed her quickly on the lips before get up and walk towards the bathroom. Michael groaned in pleasure when he finished his burger "I was starving! Thank you. Luke, hug her for me, I am too far" "it was nothing" Luke wrapped his long arms around her, she snuggled and hummed with the comfort "do you want us to pay you back?" "oh, don't need to, like to take care of you guys" "I have the best friend in the world" "me?" Calum asked when came back to his living room, already feeling jealous. He knew that she was Luke's friend for more time than he and that was Luke who introduced them, but he couldn't help himself "she" "really? I think 'm way better than her" Calum teased her and received in response a socked

foot on his stomach "you will not hurt anyone with these smurf feet" "oh, fuck you!" he grinned and started making circles on her heel trying to forget how much he loves her small feet while she smiled to he "seriously, Cal if you two don't run away to Vegas and get eloped, I will put you guys on my trunk and force you to do it" she giggled, but he rolled his eyes, dropped her foot on the couch and made his way to the bedroom "I think he is mad with you, Ash" "his lost" he shrugged "Alright beautiful people if we gonna leave for the weekend is better we go pack our shits" "yeah, is better" "where we'll meet?" "her place" "why mine?" "Your car is bigger and comfier. And the only one that the engine turns on at the first attempt" "fine, but you drive" "don't need to ask twice" "okay, see you two later" "at 8" "At 8 will be" "later" "later". Michael slammed the door behind him. "what's wrong with Calum?" she asked "bad mood, I guess. Want me to talk with him?" "no, babe, go pack your stuff and I talk with him" "ok" he untied she, giving a kiss on her forehead "see you later, sweetheart" "see u" Luke stood up and yelled to Calum hears him from the bedroom "I'M LEAVING CAL!" "YOU'RE LEAVING LATE IN MY OPINION!" "OH FUCK YOU!" "TRUST ME, I WILL!" Luke laughed and closed the door behind him. She made her way to Calum's bedroom where she already spent a lot of time in and leaned her shoulder on the doorway "hello" "hi" he was splayed at his bed like a starfish "can I join you?" "sure" he shrank himself to the side so she could jump in his bed like a child going to sleep on their parent's bed, what made he smile and giggle "hello again" "hi again" "are you gonna tell me what's wrong?" "no" "uh, alright" they kept the silence for some seconds while she tried to tangle herself on his arms, but he smiled amused and did not help her "asshole" he laughed "oh, come here your fucking kid" he pulled her that was laid next to him, to lay on his chest and a loud groan left his lips before he answers her "you and Luke" he mumbled "what?" "You asked what was wrong: you and Luke" "are you jealous?" "yes" "he is my best friend. He is your best friend" "I know" "I had been sleeping with you" "know that too" and he knew it well "so what is this about?" he flipped his body to be over her and look inside her eyes "you are amazing, he is amazing and you too know each other so well, are so close. And I'm... just me" "it should be a compliment, right?" "I am talking serious" "me too, but, hey you're lucky that I'm more into jerkasses" she teased what made him smile squeezing his eyes, but he opened it again and he felt her hands cupping his face and she staring at his lips, so he pushed down and kissed her deeply, passionated. Soon her hands were sliding down his whole body stopping on the button of his black, ripped jeans ready to take off of him, but Calum stopped the kiss, swallowed, and laid down at her side again what made her feels confused "uh, you... you should go pack your stuff" "what? pack my stuff?" something was wrong, he never refused sex before 'will he break up with me?' she thought "ok" she put herself up and walked towards the door "hey!" "hum?" "need me to drive you home?" "no, like to walk" "oh, okay" "want to come with me?" he wanted to say 'yes' really, wanted to have sex with her (good and sweaty) let her fall sleep on his arms and wake up late to the trip, forget to put clean underwear on the bag and hear the boys make jokes about the reason that they were late, but... "I will take a shower, you know?" "I have a shower in my place" she raised an eyebrow teasing him again, one last try, but he just kept in silence, she nodded "see you later, Cal" and left his apartment ...he couldn't fall in love with her.

*

They met at her place two hours early than they had agreed, she was taking a shower when heard Michael yelling into her living room. "Don't you regret of gave a key to Luke?" "No, like when he is around. Less when I am studying, you know how noisy he can be." now she was on her couch talking with Ashton while the other three was in the kitchen pretending they were barmen "you have a very nice place" "thanks, my grandparents left to me" "I'm sorry" "Oh, it's okay they are alive. They moved to Indiana" "oh, that's nice" "it is" "who wants margaritas???" Luke walked to the living room caring two glasses of margaritas "thank you, Luke" "cheers!" he drank with his best mate when she gasped "you should not drink you'll drive!" "I can drive" "at least someone is behaving. I will love to punish those who don't obey me" she said naughty and Luke laughed loudly he loved when she made sexual jokes "Ash is embarrassed" Michael appeared in the living room yelling (already drunk) with Calum "who is embarrassed?" "Ash. Look he is blushing!" they all laughed "sorry, Ash" "it's fine... Excuse me" Ash made his way to the kitchen and Calum sat next to her where Ashton was before "hey Calum" "what's up Mike?" "You and her will have to control, you know?" "what you're talking about?" "The noise. Not allowed to be loud" Calum laughed "how many margaritas you drank already?" "The margaritas..." He paused and burped 'gross' he continued "the problem is not the margaritas, but the shots" "well, I think that it will not be a problem, Mike" "you are quite loud, babe" she raised an eyebrow and looked to Calum "well, no sex no noise, and you already have made it very clear to me" she stood up and walked to the kitchen to fill her glass and Luke followed her "wow! Calum Hood, what you did wrong?" Ashton dropped at his side very interested in the chaos "I refused fuck with her earlier" "what?! Why, dude?" Ashton and Michael laughed "have my reasons..." he mumbled and blushed a little "ok, they must be good 'cause, bro she is a hottie one and hotties do not are used to be rejected. So she will, naturally, get mad with you" 'he didn't know about her past' Calum thought "Ash... Just be quiet" "alright. Hey Michael did you watched the video I sent you?" Ashton moved the subject leaving Calum only with his thoughts.

*

"What happened, honey?" "He is acting weird" "yeah..." "He didn't want to have sex, didn't want to walk home with me, didn't let me tease him" "don't have a clue why he is doing this" "he was being paranoiac..." "About what?" "About us" she whispered "hum?" "About us" "about us? But don't exist an 'us'" "I know" "Jesus, man... what are you gonna do?" "Get wasted" Luke chuckled "you always have the best ideas" then filled his glass.

*

Was a little after 8 pm when they left: Ashton driving, Calum at his side and the trio in the back: Michael sleeping at the right, Luke in the middle, and she in the left with her head dropped on Luke's shoulder his arm around her while they count how many trucks they see in the road "how many you already saw?" "Eighteen, I guess" "damn it! I'm losing" "what you guys are doing?" Ashton asked interested in what the friends were doing "We are counting lorries" Calum widened his eyes and look at her "lorries?" "Yes" "wtf are lorries?" "Trucks" "are you British now?" "No, but my last boyfriend was" 'oh, yes. He is British' "I miss him. Do you still hang?" Luke used to hang out with them when he broke up with his girlfriend "Yes, I had lunch with him last week" "send hello when you see him again" "okay" "do you still talk with him" "yes, Ash, we are still friends" "you two truly love each other. I mean after all of that you keep supporting him. It's love" Luke always says too much when he is drunk "I think so" but she was pretty wasted too "why did you break up?" "He discovered he is more into boys, you know..." Ashton looked to Calum already regretting what he said about her earlier "I'm sorry" "yeah, it's alright. He is happy that's what matters" "it's very nice of you..." "Well, he would do the same for me" she said with sadness in her voice and Ashton cleaned his throat "Can I sleep, Luke?" "Yes, sure. Come here" he pulled her to be more comfortable on his chest and she fell asleep, soon he did it too. "I think is only us, bro" "yeah, uh, Cal" "hum?" "Honestly, why are you sat here? Why are you not where Luke is? With her laying in your chest, hands playing in her thighs, teasing each other, kissing?" he licked his lips and swallowed dryly, looked back to certify they were sleeping "I'm afraid" "afraid? Is she spanking you?" Calum blushed "she spanks you?" Ashton laughed "it happened once or twice. Sometimes she is bossy in bed. But anyway is not about it" "So why the hell are you refusing sex?" "I am afraid of fall in love with her" "you? falling in love?" "I am falling for her and faster. But I can't" "wow. Why not? You guys are great together" "she isn't mine. And I'm afraid to ask her to be" "you can't live with fear, bro" "yeah…" "honestly, she is awesome and if you don't risk yourself, someone will and you will lose her" "I know" "just keep it in your mind" "I will. Thanks, Ash" "no problems, mate. I should have a talk show" "hell yeah, you totally should" they kept talking about the imaginary Ashton's talk show for the rest of the trip.

*

Was at least midnight when she put on a bikini and jumped on the swimming pool, the boys were making some midnight barbecue, now all drunk, listening to some classic rock, and getting high again. "Beautiful..." "hey" "can we talk?" "Yes! hum, actually I was thinking about the same thing" she was soberer now "good" he dived into the pool and stand next to her "I am sorry about what I said earlier. Sex isn't everything and you're not obligated to do if you're not in the mood. It's just so great that I can't help myself…" she started and he looked into her eyes calmly, taking her hands in his own, she was despaired for an answer and let he knew with her gaze, but he just stepped closer guiding her hands and arms to involve his body, resting his chin on the top of her head and whispered "I want you to be mine" "I will love to be yours" she whispered back and he grinned "sex it's actually really great, isn't it?" "more than it usually is" "so, are you saying that I'm pretty good in bed?" she laughed "you satisfy me, more than the other boys I had slept with" "is it includes Luke?" she smiled "well, I don't remember a lot, but I think so" he grinned at her. Luke and she had already banged a few years ago at some random party, both wasted. Calum knew that and didn't care 'old shit' he thought.

"HEY, LUKE!" "WHAAAATTT?" "SHE SAID SEX WITH ME IS BETTER THAN WITH YOU!" she blushed "Calum!" "damn it!" Luke mumbled more to himself "HEY, CAL!" "HUM?" "SUCK ME!" "I WISH TO, BUT I WILL BE BUSY DOING SOMETHING THAT YOU DIDN'T WHEN HAD THE CHANCE!" Luke laughed out loud and showed to Calum a middle finger. He actually made his bestie come over and over, at the point she thought he had a magic wand instead of a penis, but Calum didn't need to know. Luke winked at her before put his focus on the grill again, she nodded in thanks "did you guys stopped to talk about my orgasms?" "yes, babe" he pulled her legs to his waist and cupped her bum and kissed her, a calm and delicious kiss "want to go to the bedroom and let me put in practice what we were talking about?" "Do you really want to?" "More than you can imagine" "'re you sure?" he whispered at her ear "my handjobs are not like yours" he teased what made her get off his arms and went out of the pool. She pulled his wrist indicating to him to made his way out of the pool to follow her "good night boys" "good night!" Calum smiled at them that was making obscene gestures "yes, we are going to bang and you are not!" she laughed what made the boys stop and focus on another thing. Already in the bedroom Calum was laying in the bed where she said to he waits, she came out of the bathroom and she climbed the mattress to stay at his top "hey, gorgeous" "Cal, if you have to hand job yourself earlier, why you suggested me to leave?" "I was avoiding sex" "why?" "I was avoiding have great moments with you." "Because...?" "I was afraid of fall for you. Don't know about your feelings for me and I am afraid to discover" "I like you a lot" "do you?" "I really do. Wished that you asked me to be yours before" he smiled "I wanted too" "fear makes us do things that we don't want to" "yes" "hope you're not afraid of making me cum" she teased and he squeezed her hips, she kissed he and untied her bikini top "I lie. Don't like you a lots" he widened his eyes "I love you" "love me?" "Yeah. Love everything on you." "It doesn't mean that you love me" "it does" she kissed his neck, his jaw, his lips that tasted like beer "love everything single piece of you. If you puzzle it all together it's you" he smiled "how can you love me?" "ask myself the same every day" he giggled and kissed her again, this time teasing.

She untied the bikini bottom letting him feels how wet she was "fuck" "yes, fuck" they kissed again and again, hot and despaired for each other, he stopped the kiss and she looked at him confused "I'm waiting for an answer" she rolled her eyes but answered he the same way "love you because it's you" he smiled and for the first time let himself fall for her "love you too" he mumbled and she continued the kiss before he took off his swimming short and gave to her want she wanted, what they wanted, 'cause now was not she, was not he, but they.

[edsbev]

when bev joins the losers, she hangs around bill and ben the most. mike is always nice to talk to, cheery and amicable, everything is kind of easy with him. stan is a little weird but he’s sweet and she likes hearing him talk passionately abt his birds. richie seems like the last person she would ever want to talk to, at first. but she works out pretty quickly that everything that comes out his mouth is just air. that you only have to peel back a layer or two to find the boy who shares his cigarettes with her, cracks a joke in her direction to cheer her up because he can sense when she’s sad. 

but she doesnt talk to eddie. its not that she doesnt want to, its just that eddie is always kind of attached to richie’s side, shrieking laughing at all of richie’s bad voices. or hovering around bill like an animated little fly. one time, she had found herself the target of one of eddie’s rants. they’d been in the clubhouse and he’d started to rant about how they needed to sand the wooden support beams because they could all get splinters if they didnt. and he was so caught up in it that he didn’t realise she was only one looking at him, listening to him, until he was finished. and once he realised, he had gone red, and turned away. 

so bev thinks that eddie doesnt want to talk to her. which kind of sucks, a lot. and she doesnt even know why it sucks so much. because he’s just like...a tiny little rude boy (and she laughs at herself when she thinks that but she doesnt know how else to describe him) just this tiny stressed kid with a surprisingly foul mouth. who likes playing loogie with richie and berating them all for not wearing sunscreen. but sometimes she thinks he’s like her. in what way, though, she doesnt know. its just, sometimes, when he thinks no one’s looking, she’ll see his face change. watch as it falls. he’ll look tired. he’ll look sad. and then one day he tells them all about his mother, his chest heaving, his expression all twisted up, and it all makes sense. and suddenly she’s never wanted to know someone so badly in her life. 

do you wanna hang out tomorrow? she finally musters up the courage to ask one day. just you and me? eddie has his face tilted up to at her, he’s so little, and there’s something so surprised about his expression that he almost looks scared. “oh, yeah, sure,” he says, words all stuttery and unsure. he nods with a little more confidence, “okay.” bev smiles at him. and that night she climbs up onto richie’s roof with richie and asks him, basically, what the hell she should talk to eddie about. because she wants eddie to like her, and one thing she knows about eddie is that he very much likes richie. so sue her. richie just laughs and tells her that eddie likes dirty jokes. and so she and richie brainstorm a bunch of jokes she can tell eddie tomorrow. even though bev knows that the dirty jokes that richie tells eddie have a 50/50 chance of being met with a beep beep, or laughter. 

and the next day she meets up with eddie at the aladdin. and she greets him almost immediately with a dirty joke, to break the ice, because he had looked nervous, shuffling feet, fidgety hands. and he laughs. not quite the shrieking laughter that only ever seems to come out around richie. but its genuine laughter nonetheless. and his smile stays on his face long after it. and bev thinks she has it figured out. she just has to be a little crude, maybe rant about some sort of health and safety codes, and eddie will like her. and they can open up to each other. but then, when she asks what he wants to do, eddie suggests that they go for a walk through the dog park, just a few streets away, because he likes petting the dogs. but then eddie offers to buy her ice cream for her when she comes up a few cents short (“dont worry about it,” he’d said, licking at his own ice cream, placing his change into her hand with his sticky fingers. “i have a lot of change. i stole it from ma.”) but then eddie points out a funny looking car on the street and excitedly tells her that he’s always wanted a car like that, talks to her passionately about cars in general until he realises what he’s doing and cuts himself off, looking bashful, until she nudges him to continue. and he smiles at her brightly and he does. 

but then eddie is this sweet, gentle kid, amongst being his usual Little Stressed Rude Boy self and she realises that she just really fucking likes him. its not just that their lives are so similar, two shades of the same colour. even though that definitely leaves a sort of sense of mutual understanding between them. she just likes being around him. unfortunately, it seems like it takes eddie a little longer to warm up to her to the same extent she’s warmed up to him. he tells her later, once theyre really close, that he had actually been a little intimidated by her. (”i thought you were so cool,” he says. “you don’t think i’m cool now?” bev asks. eddie grins. “nah. i think youre a nerd.” and bev laughs, because thats fair enough, but also a little bit rich coming from the kid wearing a calculator watch).

but they do become close. bev opens up to eddie about her dad one night, when its just the two of them in clubhouse. everyone else has gone home. he’s sitting in the hammock. and he looks at her with that same expression, when she starts talking. the one where he’s so surprised he looks scared. but then his expression softens. and he looks sympathetic. he looks sad. he looks angry. and when she’s done, the first thing eddie says is “i hate your dad” with a little sad smile. “he sucks.” and it makes her laugh a little. he’s the first person shes ever told all of this to, but she thinks she already prefers that reply to every other reply she’s going to get. she says, in reply, “i hate your mom. she sucks.” and eddie’s face scrunches up for a second, like he’s going to defend her. but he ends up laughing too. and then theyre both laughing. like their lives are the world’s best joke. “our parents suck,” eddie says, his laughter still all over his face. and the way he says that - “our parents” - has bev imagining, for a moment, that they share the same parents. that theyre a pair of lost siblings who have found each other. who are going through the same thing. it feels that way. “they do,” she says. “wanna get new parents?” and eddie smiles and says “how about no parents? then we dont have to have a bedtime.” bev replies, “i like your thinking.” and eddies smile stretches even wider, like he’s glad she likes his idea, before he says, eyes lighting up as he’s hit with a thought, “hey, can you teach me that around the world yo-yo trick you were doing before?” which is the first time hes ever initiated that they do something together. like he figures they’re bonded now. and then eddie’s one of her best friends in the whole world.

(“you ever just want to love and protect eddie with your whole life?” bev asks richie later that night, while theyre smoking up on his roof again. richie lays back, his voice half muffled by his cigarette. “yeah,” he says, without missing a beat. bev feels all giddy and excited. she had spent an hour with eddie in the clubhouse, teaching him yo-yo tricks. and when he had to leave, he’d asked if she wanted to ride home with him. “i feel like we were family in another life,” bev continues to richie. and richie snorts. “what, like he was your husband or something?” he asks, and that thought almost makes bev recoil “no. like we were related,” she says. like she was his sister or his mother or his aunt or his cousin. richie blows out smoke through his lips. “oh,” he says, “guess our similarities end there.” and bev laughs. she’d figured). 

[withcolebrock]

Lover of Mine-chapter 6

Lover of Mine~5 seconds of summer

Masterlist

Warnings: swearing?

Word Count: 1,485

Author’s Note: however Mike is depitced in this series is not how I believe he acts around women or treats women. ANyyyyway It’s getting down and spicy soon yallllll I hope you guys are enjoying it so far, because this is like my favorite series I have ever written and it’s actually the longest so I hope you guys really like it so far! This is my Gif!!

She pulled the bag from the microwave at the ends of it. She dropped the bag onto the countertop while she reached for two bowls from inside of her cabinet. She hummed to herself while she began pouring the popcorn into the bowl. She took a hold of the other bag she made and began pouring it into another bowl. She tossed the bags into the garabage can as she reached over to take a hold of the bowl.

She walked towards her living room. They were watching one of her favorite movies, Heathers, “Okay, start it,” she said excitedly as she handed one of the bowls to Sam, who was sitting on the recliner. She climbed onto the couch beside Colby. Colby clicked play as he reached over and took a few pieces of popcorn, “Who said that was for you?” she questioned jokingly as she pulled the bowl closer to her.

Colby gasped dramatically as he tossed the pieces he grabbed into his mouth. “I did,” he held out his hand and reached for more popcorn. She shook her head playfully as she crossed her legs. Colby adjusted his body closer to her, their legs now touching. Suddenly her heart began to beat faster, she wasn’t sure why. His eyes looked over her features as he felt his cheeks begin to flush.

He admired the way she stared intently towards the screen, he loved how invested she was in the movie. Despite seeing so many times, he watched as her lips curled up softly. He took in a long breath before turning his attention back towards the TV. Every time he would take a piece of popcorn he would lean his body close to hers; she clenched her jaw as she avoided looking towards him. His gaze lingered on her as he would lean his body back against the couch. She would turn her head to look towards him, meeting his eye briefly before she would turn her head back towards the screen. Colby smiled to himself.

“I’ve watched this movie ten time with you and I don’t even know what the plot is,” Sam commented while he tossed a few pieces of popcorn in his mouth. Y/N and Colby shake their heads laughing.

“Of course you don’t,”

~~~

She walked down the hall towards Colby’s room with a skip to her step. She peaked her head into the room and knocked on the door frame. She smiled as she saw Colby setting up his computer. He turned around to look towards her, he smirked as he stood up from his chair. “Hey,” he cheered as he waved her inside. She walked into the room as her eyes danced around the room.

“Hey, how are you doing?” she walked over to his bed and fell down onto it. He chuckled as he sat down beside her.

“I’m good, just trying to get my stuff set up so I can edit my video for tomorrow,” He sighed as he fell down onto his back. She fell down onto her back. “I always do this shit last minute,” he chuckled, tilting his head to face hers. A small laugh left her lips. She turned her head to face him. She smiled as she met his eyes, “Are you okay?” he whispered while his eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, I’m good,” she said, immediately tilting her head to stare towards the ceiling. His gaze lingered on her features, waiting to see if she would say more. She took in a slow breath while she shut her eyes. His heart beat faster as he felt her body so close to his.

“What’s wrong?” his voice was barely audible. She turned her head to face him, her eyes subconsciously looked around his features before she looked into his soft eyes. She sat straighater as she kept eye contact with him.

“It’s Mike,” she whispered, her voice cracking lightly as the words left her lips. She forced a smile as she shook her head lightly. “He’s not happy with me moving here. It’s like he doesn’t trust me or something,” she tilted her head straight again as she stared at the ceiling. “And I’ve done nothing for him to think that, if anything I shouldn’t trust him,” she explained while clenching her hands.

“He doesn’t want you living here because-?” he trailed off as he watched her.

“There’s an overload of testosterone in the house,” she looked him in the eye and chuckled. He shook his head with a smirk forming to his lips. “He’s always had a problem with me living with you and Sam, it’s like he doesn’t care if you guys are my best friends only that you guys are men,”

“So he’s insecure?” Colby raised his eyebrows.

“You could say that, yeah,” she chuckled, “I’m tired of fighting with him about it over and over and over again. I just wish he would get over himself,” she raised her hands up and covered her face. She groaned as she began rubbing her eyes.

“I mean the dude has a lot to compete with,” he started, she furrowed her eyebrows as she stared towards him, “I mean you’ve known Sam since you were eleven and we’ve been best friends since freshman year. So like the dude thinks he’s got serious competition to be your favorite guy,”

She pressed her lips together as she sat with the thought. She shut her eyes briefly as she shook her head. She opened her eyes as she looked into Colby’s eyes for a while without saying anything. “Is it bad that he isn’t?” she whispered, while her eyes flickered down to his lips before quickly looking back up into his eyes. “Oh god am I a bad girlfriend for thinking that?” she let out a shaky breath.

“Well, who’s your favorite guy?” he questioned, his voice was hopeful as his eyes flickered around her features. She half smiled.

“You,” she spoke softly, “Is that even a question?” she laughed as she lightly hit his arm. He beamed as he let out a sudden laugh. “You’ve been there, you’ve been there for everything. Am I suddenly supposed to forget all that because I’ve been dating some guy for like eight months?” she explained, Colby’s mouth fell open as he tilted his head to the side. “Damn, I’m a horrible girlfriend,” she covered her face with her hands again, a groan leaving her lips.

“You are not a horrible girlfriend, Tink. He’s just worried he might lose you,” she slowly moved her hands away from her face as she kept her gaze towards the ceiling. Colby’s eyes looked over her. He’d admired the way her eyelashes curled upward and the color of her eyes, the way her cheeks were slightly flushed. “You wanna watch a movie, get your mind off of things,” he whispered. She nodded slightly as she slowly tilted her head towards Colby.

Her mind went blank as she looked into his eyes. They were soft, familiar, for a second she felt as if in that moment time stopped. Her heart started to beat out of her chest, as her gaze shifted towards his lips. She felt herself leaning towards him subtly. Colby doing the same. Yet the move was so small that neither of them noticed each other leaning in.

“Heathers?” she asked softly. Her own voice pulling her from her trance.

“Uh-yeah,” he cleared his throat as he leaned his body back.

He nodded his head slightly as he reached behind him for his laptop. He flipped his laptop open as his background flashed on. A picture of himself, Sam, and herself were all standing together smiling. She smiled to herself as she waited for Colby to put in his password. “Hey,” she whispered, Colby turned his head towards her. “Thank you,” she continued.

He reached over and wrapped his arm around her, “Any time,” he whispered while he started searching for Heathers on Hulu. “We have to watch Heathers again?” he groaned while she laughed, “We’ve watched it three times in the past two weeks. Why can’t we do like The Breakfast Club or something,” he laughed as he ran his hand down her arm.

“We can watch The Breakfast Club if you want,” she laughed while she rested her head onto his shoulder. She shut her eyes for a second, trying to push the strange feeling away. He quickly looked over to her, feeling his cheeks begin to flush as he shifted his gaze towards his computer screen trying to hide his blush from her.

“Yay,” he whispered while he found the movie and began to play it. She giggled while she kept her eye on the computer screen. He tilted his head against hers, as they watched the beginning of the movie.

Lose me in the sight of you; I’ve seen the red, I’ve seen the blue

[lu-undy]

Un-alone, Chapter 7

Here it is!

“Hello…? Yeah, Dad, we’re here. Yeah, everything’s fine. No, no, we’re at Uncle Phil’s… Mum? Yeah, she’s alright. She’s talking to him right now so I thought I might just call and tell you we’re here, for you not to worry too much… Yeah, I can put her on the phone, hold on… Mum? Dad wants you on the phone!”

“Tell him I’m coming!” Caroline looked at her brother. “Hold on Phil, Mike’s going to worry otherwise.” 

“Go ahead, Carrie.”

The sixty-odd year old woman rose from the sofa and went to the telephone, leaving her brother on his sofa. 

"Thanks, Micky, go with your Uncle, I'll be a minute." She gently tapped her son's arm and the tall man nodded.

He went to his uncle and sat on the armchair next to the sofa. The Aussie put his hat and his aviators on the coffee table.

"So, Micky, how're you? How was the flight and all? Oh by the way, here… Your mum's poured you a cup of tea while you were on the phone…”

“Oh, thanks…” Mundy took the cup that his uncle was handing him and nodded in thanks. Micky was the nickname that his family used with him. “Flight’s been bloody long. America’s so far from home and New Mexico’s not on the East coast either so, eh... I slept for most of it but Mum was a bit restless.”

“Ah, I’m not surprised. I know your Mum, she’s always been active and energetic like that.” Phil chuckled. “But all went well on your way here?”

“Yeah, not too bad.” Mundy took a sip of his tea. “Had to drive to the airport for a few hours first. Dropped the van to be delivered here soon hopefully, and then we took the plane with Mum.”

“I see. And what're you doin' now? Still hunting?" Philip drank his tea and offered some biscuits to his nephew.

"Ah, thanks. And uh, yeah, same old." Mundy smiled. "I still hunt."

"Dad still angry about it?" 

"Not really angry. He's more than used to it by now. But he'd rather I just helped in the farm, for sure." 

"Ah, can't blame him. Guns are dangerous, eh."

They nodded and both took a sip of their tea. 

"You make tea exactly like Mum." Mundy chuckled.

"Bah, y'know your mum, she didn't let me do it! She made that herself… Gosh, Caroline! I told her, you took the car for hours and then the plane for hours, you must be dead tired. But y'know how you can't reason with your mum, eh?"

"Yeah, I do…" Mundy smiled.

"So what's new back home?"

"Bah, not much… Mum and Dad are still lookin' after the chickens and geese. I help in between contracts. But you, Uncle Phil? You got injured? Mum told me it was at work…?" 

Philip nodded. 

"Yeah, y'know, bein' a policeman here ain't always easy."

"What happened?"

"Got beaten up by a group of thugs."

"Mum said something about gunshots." 

"Yeah, it was two gangs goin' at each other. Young folks, really. Such a shame to see kids like this these days. But yeah, there were a few gunshots and one caught my leg."

"Oh wow…" Mundy nodded. "When did that happen?" 

"About a few weeks ago now…? Yeah, a couple of weeks ago." 

"And you still walk with a cane and a limp, eh?" Mundy asked, nodding at the cane resting against the side of the couch. 

"Yeah…" Philip frowned and scratched his bushy moustache. "Goin' through therapy, but y'know, I ain't young anymore so it'll take a long time before it'll go back to normal."

"That what the doctors said?" 

"Yeah." Philip nodded. "They said I might even retire before it's complete history." 

"Oh, bugger… Can you work again at least or…?" 

"Well, I'll only do desk stuff but no field work." Philip seemed saddened by it. 

"Ah, I'm sorry, Uncle Phil…" Mundy scratched his short, brown hair.

"Bah, I was due to retire in a few months, so it doesn't change much. Just means I can take it easy a few months in advance." 

"But you really liked your job, right?" Mundy asked. 

"Oh yeah, as much as you yours." 

They smiled and nodded at each other. Caroline came back and sat next to her brother on the sofa. 

"Alright, Mike's alright. I told him about the van." She said, looking at her son, Mundy. 

"What's wrong with it?" Philip asked. 

"They said it's gonna arrive in a week or so." Caroline answered. "They’re having delays for some reason."

"You're welcome to use my car whenever you need, eh." Philip offered. “You didn’t need to get Mike’s van over the ocean.”

"Oh, thanks, Phil'. It'll come in handy, I'm sure. And it’s Micky’s van now." She chuckled and was interrupted by Philip's dog coming to lay on Mundy's lap. 

"Marty, get off of Micky's lap, you big boy…!" 

Marty was a German shepherd. He was Philip's life companion for the past decade now. 

"He's fine, Uncle Phil, let him do… Yeah, good boy…!" Mundy was spoiling the dog with pets and scratches. The canine went to fetch a toy and brought it to the Aussie. 

"You can take him to the backyard and play there with him if you want, Micky." 

"Oh, for sure, c'mon, let's go, big boy…!" Mundy collected his hat and aviators from the coffee table before he exited the living-room through the French window, closely followed by the dog. 

That left Caroline and Philip chatting together. 

"Micky's told me Mike still doesn't like his huntin', eh?" Philip asked and his sister nodded. 

“To be honest, we never agreed to it or liked the idea. It’s dangerous. I mean, you’re livin’ proof that carryin’ a gun can get you at the wrong end of another one.”

“Yeah, but he’s not huntin’ people, is he? They're just beasts.”

“Beasts that could rip your leg off better than that bullet you took, Phil’.” Caroline sipped on her tea. “Nah, we’ve tried to get him interested in anything else. We got him to play in a pub.”

“Play?” Phil repeated.

“The sax. He’s quite decent.” Caroline explained and pushed her pink glasses back up her nose. 

“But?” Phil anticipated.

“But he likes to do it on the side… He really likes huntin’ and he’s the best at it. He’s now got a reputation. Sometimes, he says he has work, takes the van and drives off for days. We don’t know where he goes, what he does, but he comes back with heaps of money…!”

“You don’t think he’s doin’ anything dodgy, is he?” Phil asked, his policeman instincts kicking in.

“I don’t know. We’ve asked him countless times and he always says that it’s the price for capturing rare game but…” Caroline shook her head. “I can’t help but think there’s more to it. Once, the police came along with some men who didn’t look like regular police. They took him away to have a chat. In the end, he told us he landed a contract that paid generously, and oh boy it did! We redid part of the house with that money…! But what the job was exactly, he couldn’t tell us. He said the police asked him to be quiet about it.”

“Well if it’s the police askin’ and he’s free, that means he helped them, he wasn’t against them, so I wouldn’t worry.”

“I can’t help it…” Caroline raised her eyes and saw Mundy play with the dog through the French window.

"Hey, Carrie, the boy's a grown up man now. And if the police comes for him to work, that means he's real good… How old is he now?"

"Almost forty."

"And still livin' with you and Mike?" 

"Nah, yeah…" 

"He doesn't wanna go?" Phil asked. 

"I don't know. We never really discussed it."

“D’you think he does the huntin' work only for the money? If he earns a lot of it, he might just continue it for the cash.” Phil asked.

“Yeah, nah.” Caroline shook her head. “It's not for the money. He takes a lot of work for free…"

"For free? Hell…" Phil chuckled. "And what about, y'know, findin' a good woman and all?" 

"Oh God, if only I knew what was goin' on with him…" Caroline shook her head. "He never brings anyone home and he never talks about these things. Even with his dad. He's never, y'know, just checked a sheila out or let his eyes linger. It's like he doesn't feel a thing for them."

"I can ask. Maybe he can't talk to y'all about it but is happy to open up to someone else?"

"Maybe."

There was a pause. 

"He doesn't seem too unhappy about it all, eh?" Phil nodded to Mundy who was playing fetch with Marty. 

"Nah, he doesn't but… We'd love to see him bring someone home, y'know. I wonder if he does have someone but just hides it."

"Why would he do that?" 

"I don't know. Last time he talked about a pretty sheila, he was back in primary school. Since then, it's been different." 

"Hm." Phil finished his tea. "And what about Mike? How's he? You left him alone to come and see me?"

Caroline shook her head.

"Yeah, nah, he’s got his brother over and it’s rugby season. I just have to call them to stay away from havin’ barbies everyday.” She chuckled. 

“Oh I’m sure he’ll be reasonable.” Phil joined her chuckles. 

“Yeah, as long as I call him enough…!”

“I’m happy you could visit, Carrie.”

Brother and sister exchanged smiles. 

“It’s been a while since we last saw each other. Micky was much younger. He’s a man and a half now. And not bad-lookin’ at all!” Phil added.

“Yeah, he’s a fine bloke. And you need someone to help with that leg of yours… You should have called and told me right when it happened! Why wait a few weeks?”

“Yeah, like I’d stop middle of the shootin’ to go to the nearest phone, call in Oz’ and tell you about it…!” Phil joked and chuckled.

“You know that’s not what I meant, Phil..!”

“I know, I know, just jokin’. But I just didn’t want to scare y’all. You’re far from me and if I’d called you and said ‘oh hey, Carrie, I just got shot but everythin’s fine’, you'd have jumped in the first plane with your old age and your even older Mike to come and see me…!”

“Oi, you’re older than me and Mike’s your age!” She answered with a laugh. “Besides, here I am anyway with Micky.”

“Yeah, thanks for visitin’, really. I’m sure you’ll help a lot.”

“Of course I will…!”

“But yeah, you convinced Micky to come and Mike to stay?” Phil asked, his tone coming back to being a bit more serious.

“To be honest…” Caroline cast a glance over to Mundy. He was busy and far in the backyard, beyond the French window. In a word, he was out of earshot. “We had to kind of push him.”

“Push him to do what?”

“To come with me.” Caroline explained. 

“He wanted to stay with his Dad?”

“Yeah, nah, he just… He didn’t wanna stay with his Dad per se, but he likes to stick to the van. He practically lives there, you know, when he disappears off.”

“Ah, I see.” Phil nodded. “But don’t worry, Carrie. I’d be proud if I were you.”

“What? Why?” She raised a curious eyebrow.

“If the police come to him for help, he’s really good.” The old man poured more tea for his sister and himself. “We don’t get other folks to do our job, and if we ever do, we’re either forced to, or they’re so good that it hurts for us to admit it. Micky might be both.”

Caroline nodded but bobbed her head left and right.

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Why force him to come?”

“I’m old, Phil, and I don’t like travellin’ that much.”

“Neither does he, from what you’re tellin’ me.”

“Yeah but... “

“Carrie?”

Caroline raised her eyes to her elder brother.

“I know you’re hidin’ somethin’. Tell me.”

She bit her lip and looked through the window again. Mundy was still absorbed in whatever he was doing with the dog.

“I’m a bit worried. I think he… He might be happy at work but…”

“But what?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t even know…!”

-- A few days later --

“Here, let me help…”

“Nah, it’s alright, Micky.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah! Look, I just need to put the cane first, then this leg and - oof!- this one…! Ah, thanks, son.”

  Mundy helped his uncle get in the car anyway. 

“Alright, you’ll have to guide me, Uncle Phil.” The younger man hopped in the car.

“Yeah, it’s not too far. Let’s get to the café that I like and you’ll tell me what you think of their coffee, yeah?”

“Mum’s not comin’?” Mundy asked.

“Nah, she wants some quiet time without boys ruinin’ her cleanin’ the house. I got told off this mornin’ cause the house wasn’t clean enough for her standards!” 

“Sounds like Mum alright.” Both chuckled and Mundy adjusted the mirrors and the driver’s seat, fastening his seatbelt.

“Alright, let’s go, son.”

The drive was quiet. Phil told his nephew about the neighbourhood and how it had changed over the years, on the few occasions that they stopped at a red light. 

“Where can we park?”

“Behind the thing, take it left here… And there.”

Mundy parked and went around to help his uncle out. 

“The place looks nice and cosy, eh?” The young man said.

“Yeah, that’s why I like it.” Philip answered and they made their way in. “Here, that’s my table.”

The gentle smell of coffee wrapped them up as Mundy discovered the decor. Cosy was the right word for it. It practically looked like a living-room with the sofas and fireplace, the coffee table and magazines. The rest of the room had the classic restaurant/café layout with tables and chairs but that living-room corner looked very comfortable indeed. The walls were wooden and the beams of dark wood in the ceiling were clearly quite old. It reinforced the overall rustic yet familiar atmosphere.

“Oh hey, Phil!” The café owner greeted him.

“Hey Bob, how are ya?”

“Alright. Who’s this friend with you?” Bob asked as he made his way to Philip and his younger nephew. He was a big man in his late fifties for sure. Salt and pepper hair with more salt than pepper already and big square glasses on a nose that went with the proportions of the large man. Bob wore an apron with the colors and logo of the café and threw the tea towel he was holding on his shoulder.

“That here's my nephew, Micky. He’s come with his Mum to help out, while my bad leg heals up.”

“Oh, brilliant! Where are you guys from?” Bob looked at Mundy who took a seat opposite his uncle. He removed his hat but kept the aviators on. 

“From Australia.”

“That’s quite the trip, eh?”

“Yeah.” Mundy smiled.

“Alrighty then, I’ll let you make up your mind. Coffee’s on me, Phil. No, no, don’t even try to argue!” 

The three men exchanged a chuckle.

“Alright, Bobby, can you give us your classic. Make it two, I want the kid here to try it. Careful, he knows his way around coffees, eh?” Philip answered. 

“Sure thing! Two of Phil’s usual, on their way…!” Bob left Phil and his nephew in peace.

“So, how d’you find America so far, Micky?”

“Not so different from home. You just drive on the right, which confused me a bit but now I think I’m getting used to it.”

“Here, two classics. Enjoy, folks!” Bob put the two cups on the table and added a packet of chocolate for each before leaving them. 

Mundy and Phil were sitting in a corner of the café, next to the window. 

“Go ahead, son, and tell me.”

Mundy took a careful sip and let it invade his mouth, cover his palate and hug his tongue warmly. It was the beginning of October now and the weather was colder than in his native Australia, so the hot coffee was very welcome. 

“Mh… I like it.”

“Yeah?” Phil insisted.

“Yeah, I think so. It’s not too strong or bitter. It’s well balanced without being fruity or too sweet.”

“Gosh, listen to you talk,...!” Phil laughed. “You sound like one of those so called experts they bring on TV or somethin’, heh.”

“I’m just used to drinkin’ loads of coffee.” Mundy explained.

“Drink it when you work?”

“Yeah, all the time.” Mundy nodded and smiled. “I really like it.”

“Even when you’re in the desert, scorchin’ sun and all?” Phil asked.

“Oh yeah, absolutely.” Mundy answered. “It’s really good to drink something hot when it's hot. Helps you sweat and regulate your body temperature. They do that in the Sahara, only with tea and not coffee.”

“Right, right, I didn’t know that, but now that you say it, it kinda makes sense. So talkin’ about your work, tell me what it’s like.”

“What?” Mundy chuckled.

“You a hunter, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So tell me how and what you hunt, son!”

“Oh, uh, you sure?” Mundy asked, raising a surprised eyebrow.

“O’course! Why d’you sound shocked?”

“Cause Mum and Dad don’t really like what I’m doin’ so I don’t really uh… I’m not used to talkin’ about it, is all.” Mundy lowered his head, as if ashamed.

“Yeah and I understand your folks but I’m not them. Besides, I’m a policeman. I’m sure your Mum doesn’t like my job either for the same reason she’s not fond of yours.”

“Fair, yeah.” Mundy nodded, raising his head back for his eyes to meet with his uncle’s.

“So, go ahead! Tell me everythin’!”

Seeing his uncle’s enthusiasm made him blush for an instant. Mundy felt put on the spot. He looked around them and the other customers in the café didn’t pay the last bit of attention to them. He smiled and took a bit of air before starting.

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (18)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

Life is like an endless road. Sprinkled with pitfalls, choices, regrets, happiness, doubts... so many things that could keep you going... or to end the journey permanently. At every important moment, two paths are open to you. and every path you take will have consequences. This is called the butterfly effect.

But when you look at Danny's life, you quickly notice that he continues on his way even though it should have stopped. Already just during his childhood, he escaped death twice. The violence he suffered because of his "father" almost cost him his life. then when he lost Carla. At first, our dear assassin wanted to end his life before changing his mind at the last moment, feeling unable to do so. That's when the truth came out. That's when his life took a whole different path. And the rest you know.

And there... there is another way opens up. The path you've opened. But how far will this path go? Only time will tell. But one thing is certain: Jed will have to disappear. Danny still can't believe you prefer Jed to him. Such a boring life is almost unbearable! While a life with him... exciting, dangerous is what makes him feel alive! We're going to have to really work on that. As for McKellan.... his time is running out now.

It's all set. All that remains is to wait. Once the discord between him and Hoggins gets to a certain point.... He will strike. It is not in his style or in his habit to blame someone else. But he has to admit that it was fun to make Wilhelm go around in circles. He couldn't wait to see his face when he found out that Danny had put him on a false trail.

“A little romantic dinner, huh? I knew that under those glasses and that nerd look there was a romantic boy.” said Melinda suddenly, bringing Danny out of his thoughts.

Oh, that's right. Have dinner. With you. He sent you a message to see if you'd prefer a restaurant or a meal at his house. And your answer was not long in coming, with a nice touch of humour, you told him that you would like to taste his cooking.  He is not a great Michelin-starred chef but for you he will be able to make a meal worthy of the greatest restaurants. And with a little luck... he will be able to enjoy the softness and warmth of your body for the night... what? Don't forget that he is a man, above all! A man with needs... important carnal needs.

“I may be a nerd, but I'm not an idiot either. And then it was you who told me that I had to think more often about my personal life than professional, right?” said Danny scratching his head.  

“that’s true, but I didn't think you'd listen to me. And also, at home. this story could end well ... If you know what I mean.”  

“Not on the first night. That's not her style. Plus, we're not really ... Together. Maybe tonight will be the beginning of a relationship but... It can also be an embarrassing misunderstanding. I'm not sure it's reciprocal. She can always change her mind...

“Don't start telling you that the war is lost if you haven't fought in one battle! You don't know anything and that's normal! tonight it will be the perfect opportunity for both of you to be sure that it is reciprocal. And if that's the case... then this may be the best night of your life.” replied Melina seriously.

“Yeah, you’re right. I'll see what happens tonight. the boss's plan seems to be working. Apparently Hoggins is going to press charges against the Georgia newspaper. And he's not even aware that we've published it.” said Danny, re-placing his glasses properly.

“The most amazing thing about all this is that Hoggins has a tooth against McKellan! Apparently, he thinks he was the one who sold the wick to the journalist. it's going to create tension...” said Mattew, stretching his arms.

“That's going to spice things up. It can only be beneficial to us. Now don't make mistakes. If hoggins learn that it is us and that in addition they were stolen from his home ... we can say goodbye to life.” said Melina.

Jed nod while Danny smiled slyly. He will be dead long before he tries anything. Because of course Hoggins is going to die. When and how Danny doesn't know, but one thing's for sure: he'll kill him. Then maybe he will consider living somewhere else... You never know. and if he could take you with him... that would be the icing on the cake. He can't wait to see you tonight. More than ever. He wonders what you're going to wear... something soft for sure.  

But it won't be the most interesting... the most interesting will be how the evening will end... He took the opportunity to bite into one of your pastries, since your reopening, you provide the newspaper with pastries and coffee. and everyone appreciates it! But Hembrook is the greediest. His personal order was rather.... Long. the latter passed through the offices, a brownie in hand before stopping in front of our trio.

“Don't forget you have a Ghostface article to write! I'm counting on you my little Jed to get a quality article!” He said with a proud smile.  

“Of course, sir. You can count on me, I'm on my way.” respond Danny with a smile.  

“This little bandit of Wilhelm does not give us much info. Did you find anything on your side?”

“Well... I shouldn't talk to you about it but... I found pictures... really horrible pictures... I didn't think he could do that. I... I dropped them off at your office.. So, you can see it for yourself. But I don't mean to offend you... you had a criminal among your employees.” replied Danny, holding back from smiling.

Two actually, but that, old man, you don't know. Because compared to Mike, Danny is a real cover-up pro.

“Yes... I can imagine the worst. Even though he was a drug addict, I can't even imagine what kind of crap he was doing. I'll be in my office. By the way, you'll tell your friend that I love her cakes! I'll pay for it at the end of the month. At work little kids!

Danny and the others resumed their work, the latter working to catch his article about the drug dealer they recently found. With Mike's murder, it's a big job but it doesn't scare our young reporter. All he cares about is your little face-to-face tonight. Just him and you... both in the same room. The little rabbit trapped by the big bad wolf.

The day passed quickly, the lunch break allowing everyone to take a breather, Danny took the opportunity to watch what he could cook you tonight. A Milanese cutlet with spaghetti was his final choice. He has everything at home to do them. What? Did you expect him to have only sandwiches and ready meals? Danny is a fine mouth and he likes to cook despite his ...bloody inclination. and you're going to be able to see his culinary skills tonight. Actually, Jed's skills from your point of view.

He has to make his alter ego disappear. once and for all. He was tired of being the nice little Jed Olsen. He wanted to be himself. He left his job and came to pick you up as usual. You were exhausted but delighted with this little meal between you. The way home was a laughing as usual and you separated in front of your apartment doors. Danny had three hours in front of him to prepare dinner. He's got plenty of time.

He put his things in his office, took a change, and went to take a good shower. hey he must be presentable tonight! no glasses, no hair tied, it's a very different "Jed" that you're going to see tonight. He left the bathroom, wearing a short-sleeved black T-shirt, black jeans, and grey sneakers. Well, they were white at the base but ... let's say that time has done its work. He was handsome, he knew how to showcase himself, without any artifice. Natural beauty is all that attracted him and made him attractive.

He began to prepare the meal, being careful not to be wrong. He has to make a good impression! if he has calculated his shot correctly, he will have to cook everything when you are there. He'll have a good half hour of conversation with you before he gets to the table. everything was calculated, like his murders. I told you, Danny is meticulously meticulous. Once the meal was ready, just waiting to be baked, Danny prepared the table, simple, sober, but effective. He opened a bottle of wine and tasted it before he smiled. A quality wine for a quality meal.

He placed the bottle on the table and checked that everything was in place and once that was done, made sure that the door of his office was locked. We never know, curiosity is a nasty flaw, and nothing says you won't try to get into it. He barely had time to return to the drawing-room, when he heard knocking at the door. A sneaky smile came to his lips. It's time.

He opened the door, and what he saw left him speechless. You had styled your hair in a beautiful bun, leaving two thin strands of your hair on either side of your face. You had very slightly made-up, very discreet that it does not even seem that you have any. You were dressed in a white and blue striped dress, flesh-colored tights and small navy-blue ballerinas. An angel, you were an angel. And visibly, Danny didn't leave you indifferent either.

“You’re...you’re beautiful.” said Danny, regaining his spirits.

“So are you. I wonder if I'm at the right address. What did you do with the real Jed Olsen?” You said laughing, making Danny laugh at the same time.

“Oh, let's say that when night comes, the little nerd I am is giving way to a perfect gentleman. Especially when I'm in perfect and charming company. But come in, please. The evening will be more pleasant inside than in front of my doormat.”  

“Thank you, my dear little gentleman.” you replied, coming in while Danny smiles slyly, closing the door behind you.  

“dinner is practically ready, but I'm saying we could... chat a little bit. Unless you're really hungry and then I better cook everything before you become a little demonic creature.”

“Really Funny Jed, don’t worry I'm not like Mattew. By the way, everyone enjoyed my cakes?”

“Yeah, especially Mr Hembrook, he's a real glutton, you would have seen him he wouldn't have stopped if you'd brought him more. But keep it to yourself, he's supposed to be watching his line. In fact, his wife does it for him. I met her once and I can confirm that these two there was meant to be together, they are literally day and night. But as they say, opposites attract each other, don't they?”

“It’s true. Melina told me that... that we were all connected to our soulmate in one way or another. and that all our lives we were guided to him or her. After that is it true ... In a sense when I think of my parents, or the Lawsons, I tell myself that it's true. But when I see some couple separating after years of married life.... I tell myself that it doesn't necessarily work every time. Or that we wanted to thwart fate and it put us back on the right path.” You answer shrugging your shoulders, looking at him.  

“Sure...Well, Can I have a drink for you? If I remember correctly, you are not very friendly with alcohol then... Can I buy you a cup of tea? You'll still drink wine at least? just have a drink if you really don't want to, to make me happy.” He asks smiling.

“Yes, for the tea, and just one glass of wine, to make you happy.” You respond, smiling in return.  

Danny serves you a small cup of tea and then give it to you before serving himself and sitting on the couch. You join him and talk for a good half hour. You discuss everything, Danny of his work, you of yours, recalling your little feat of yesterday. Danny smiled, the thought of you mastering this poor fool made him laugh inwardly. Who would have thought that this fragile little body was capable of such a thing? After this half hour of discussions, he got up and put the cutlets into the oven. He pulled out a jug of water that he had put in the fridge, to place it on the table on your side. He then turned on the pan where the spaghetti has cooked to warm them up a little before serving on the plate. Once the cutlets were cooked, he placed them gently on the plate and took them to serve on the table.

“I'm not a great Michelin-starred chef but... I hope you like it.” He said scratching his head.  

“Oh, come on! I'm sure it's very good! Don't underestimate yourself like that! and at worst... You'll be my guinea pig for the next three months.” You respond laughing.

“Well, if it means free cakes...Why not?”

You start eating and he's taking only a bite to congratulate Danny, or rather Jed on his meal. Jed smiled as Danny smiled more widely, of course his cooking was good. He told you, you would be treated like a queen if you preferred him to Jed. The meal went in good spirits, from the dish to the dessert.

“It was really delicious Jed. Thank you. It's been a long time since I've had a... one-on-one with someone. If we ignore the meal, we made at the Chinese restaurant of course. And in the end, you do very well in the kitchen ... Carla was really lucky to have you.” you said smiling.

“Carla taught me everything. If she hadn't helped me with cooking, I would have been a great instant noodle addict.” Danny responds.  

“... There's something I'd like to talk to you about. It's... It's about the two of us. I... I know you can't turn the page since... I mean, you know. But lately, we've both shown signs of affection...”

“We kissed. Twice. The first time was you and the second time was me. And you wonder if... if it's reciprocal on my side. You want to know for sure.” Replied Danny rising from his chair to stand beside you, his eyes staring at yours. He laughs slightly, seeing you nodding, blushing.  “It's true that... I'm having a hard time moving on. Carla... was everything to me. She was the only one who didn't treat me like... someone different. And since we've known each other, I've felt that way again. So, if that can answer your question...”  

He kissed you, without warning, and this time the kiss lasted longer. The softness of her lips added to the softness of his... It's a double feeling of silk touch, both for him and for you. As he was about to release you, Danny was surprised when, against all odds, you kissed him again, not wanting to let go of his lips for a second. Both eventually backed off and a smile was exchanged between the two of you.

“Is that okay with that answer?” he simply asks.

“Yes. You know I don't promise to be the perfect girlfriend...”

“I don’t promise to be the perfect boyfriend too. We're probably going to fight one day. For anything and everything. But know that if you have problems ... I'll be there. I won't let anyone near you. To hurt you, of course.”

“Me too. I... I’m started to be tired. I'm going to go to bed.” you replied, rising up and starting to walk you to the door. Danny hugged you and kissed you one last time.

“Good night my love. Have sweet dreams.” He simply said.

He let you go and addressed his angelic smile when you close the door. He cleared it all, wash the dishes, changed and went to bed. Looking at the ceiling he let himself be dragged by sleep. No stalking tonight. But in his mind one thing was clear:

When it all ends. When no one is on his way, whether it's McKellan, Hoggins, or those who will approach you... He'll have to be the only one in your eyes. Jed will have to disappear.  

FOREVER.

***

(Done! well I took my time and start writing only since Wednesday, but I did it! I hope you’ll like it like the others! time for me to rest this week-end! have a good week-end everyone! See ya!)