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#i feel like bruno would be a good sport about it since it is just his kid nephew
cxcewg · 8 months
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- BLOG INTRO -
• cece • 
˖° hi everyone! i’m cece and i’m trying something new this summer (writing fanfiction)! just a warning, i text like i talk (which means i am prone to rambling so bear with me here).
i lean towards writing smaus since this is the first time i'm trying out something like that and i just love writing them so much (it's such a different perspective and tone) and it doesn't require the kind of detailed plot that writing actual fics does.
masterlist
• some facts about me • 
˖° i am…
chinese-american  fluent in english, mandarin, and french taking a gap year before attending college (deferred attendance to my dream college) a student a STEM girl
• favorite… • 
teams in f1? scuderia ferrari (forza!) + mclaren drivers in f1? charles leclerc 🥺and lando norris 🥰 (oscar piastri too as well as carlos sainz and max verstappen) driver in f2? ollie bearman ❤️ singer? ts (BUT I AM NOT A SWIFTIE I SWEAR) - but i also like beabadoobee/bruno mars/cigarettes after sex/arianna grande/d4vd/illenium song? right now it's good things fall apart by illenium (but it varies dat to day) music genre? edm or pop book/series? struggled for at least 10 minutes to decide this, but if i had to pick one it’d be the off campus series (it’s no masterpiece like but it’s amazing in it’s own way - and primarily the first 2 books) - and out of that the deal would be my favorite. classic? pride and prejudice or little women genre? romance (particularly sporty romance) 😉but dystopian is a close second movie? lord of the rings (the hobbit was a complete 💩show and as far as i’m concerned, it never happened) OR legally blonde tv series? bridgerton sport? golfer here and i’m married to the golf course so… 🤷🏻‍♀️there’s really no debate as far as i’m concerned.
• who i write for • 
˖° currently, i am trying to write for f1 (trying being the keyword). mainly writing blurbs/imagines, but i might try out writing some smaus in the not-so-far future. this is my first time writing fanfiction, but charles had me feeling inspired so… please be patient with me!
i’m a pretty new f1 fan but i’ve REALLY gotten into it (ask any of my friends). obviously i don’t know everything just yet, but i do understand enough to know that ferrari is driving a shitbox. and no i did not get into f1 because of dts so 😌 and if someone asks, i’ll tell you the story.
right now, i will write for any f1 driver, but charles leclerc, lando norris, and oscar piastri will probably be getting most of my time for now. if you request anything, i'll give it a shot!
i also write for the following characters :)
cedric diggory (harry potter)
finnick odair (hunger games)
tobias james (divergent)
requests are open.
• fic recs • 
˖° on my blog right now, i mainly have the fon it. all you have to do is search up their name, followed by fic recs in my tags. an example of this would be #charles leclerc fic rec
one of my favorite charles writers is @writingstoraes and she is absolutely amazing so i completely encourage you to check her page out. some other recommended f1 writers are - @norrisleclercf1 @dilemmaontwolegs (check out her NAV series) @landonfour @formulaforza @cieloclercs @cartierre @httpiastri @f1version @holllandtrash (6 to 1 >>> and she's writing a sequel of sorts 🥺) @golden-cherry (the deal is just perfection) these are just a few - please just check out who i'm following, you will not be disappointed
if anyone’s looking for any recommendations, let me know and i’m happy to find you some.
• tag list • 
tag list is open right now, just let me know!
˖° anyways, have a great day and if you enjoy my work, give me a follow. if not, have a great day as well!
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You've mentioned Pepa and Felix and the library before....can we have that story please?
Oh yeah I remember! Aka the story of why Félix is both the best, and the worst study partner ;)
"Hey you."
"Shut up."
She didn't want to look at him right now. It was after school, and instead of going home to relax, she was stuck at the library, studying. She had a big test coming up, and mamá had caught onto the fact that Bruno used his visions to cheat for her. It pretty much meant she was forced to take her tests all by herself, under VERY intense teacher supervision. It. Sucked.
"Pepa, it's not that bad!"
She slammed the book down, thunder highlighting her intense scowl.
"I could be dancing! Playing sports even! But no, I'm STUCK here! And HE smells like eggs!"
Pepa pointed to the librarian, who just looked up from the book he was reading. Félix gave an apologetic smile as he walked away, clearly offended. Félix sighed as he sat down next to her, pulling a paper bag from his backpack.
"You're just hungry. I brought you lunch, maybe it'll make you feel better."
She huffed, before opening the bag. She could feel the clouds part upon seeing just how much care was put into it. Her favorite empanadas, cut up fruit, and of course, a healthy slice of chocolate cake. She grumbled as she let her head fall on his shoulder.
"Ugh. You're so sweet to me. Fine, you can stay."
"Heh. Gracias, Pepi."
He leaned down to kiss her forehead. He was a sweet boyfriend, she hated it. He let her eat for a moment (chocolate cake first, obviously), before trying to look at her work.
"So, what are you working on anyway?"
"History."
"History? I love history! I can help you."
She rolled her eyes, not sounding tempted.
"But history is boring. I'd rather do math, it's quick and easy. None of this remembering names and shit."
"You remember the history teacher's name."
"It's because he's kinda hot, honestly."
Félix snorted. Did he understand why the girls found him hot? Nope, but hey, to each their own.
"Look, how about this, we make a game out of it?"
"I like games."
"Most importantly, you like prizes. You get questions right, you get a prize."
That got her attention. She wiped her face free of crumbs, before nodding.
"Okay, I'm in."
"Great! Let's see here..."
Félix looked over at her study guide, before finally knowing where to start.
"Okay, here. Easy one. When did Colombia get recognized by the United States?"
"June 19th."
"What year?"
"Fuck if I know."
Félix chuckled as he looked down at her, all while she ate her empanada.
"Wait, how do you remember the day and the month, but not the year?"
"I don't know! But am I right?"
"In 1822, yes. So, half right."
"So I get half prize."
He thought about it, before shrugging.
"Fair enough."
He leaned down to kiss her little nose, making her pout.
"A nose kiss? What, is the heavenly father in the room?"
"Winners get lip kisses. Come on, let's try another one. Let's see, who was the president during that time?"
"Uh...some old guy."
"I mean. You aren't wrong. But come on, you wanna pass, you gotta try a BIT Pepi."
"Uh...James something."
Félix sighed. He wished they had the same class, it'd make this easier.
"President James Monroe. Here, let me try another number one, you're good with those. Richard Anderson was named U.S. Minister to Colombia. When?"
"Uh...January 27, 1823."
"Right! Eso Pepi!"
Sure it was one answer right, but Félix would cheer her on if she got her locker open on the first try (which should be applauded, her locker had a mind of it's own). He leaned down to kiss her lips, and she couldn't help but hold onto his chin as she did so. Oh, kissing him made her turn to absolute mush. She had to wave off the little rainbows that started to sprout as soon as they parted.
"Since I'm trying so hard, can I get one more?"
"You REALLY like cheating, huh? Fine, fine. Only because I like you."
He gave her just one more little kiss. One more after that. Then another. He wanted to pull away, but Pepa convinced him to do just a few more, just by batting her pretty little eyes. He stopped only when she grabbed onto his shirt, probably thinking she was going to unbutton it. She grinned against his lips, wiping just a bit of drool off of his chin.
"You think I deserve a bit of a break, Félix? A real quick one?~"
He thought about it, before pointing to the book.
"No. Come on, Pepa, you deserve good grades. You're as smart as you are pretty, I want people to see it."
She sighed, before relenting, looking back towards the book.
"Fine. Give me another one."
"The first commercial treaty between the United States and the Republic of Colombia, when did it happen?"
She thought about it for a second. Personally she didn't know why anyone would give two shits, but anything to get more prizes. She wanted more than just those kisses. She was about to throw some random number out there, before she felt his hand on her knee. He didn't look at her, but she saw that smile on his dumb face.
"Uh...1824?"
"Good, good. Now, when was it ratified and proclaimed?"
She barely even knew what those words meant, honestly. All she knew was that his hand was slowly gliding up her leg, and she mentally applauded herself for choosing to not wear socks today. His hand was so warm, so big, it made her mind a bit dizzy. So much so, her mini tornado knocked a few books off the shelf in the back of the library, making the librarian swear as he rushed over to fix it.
"Pepa?"
"Hmm? Oh right right. Uhm...it's...18...18 something."
"That your final answer? That won't get you a prize, Pepa."
Oh this wasn't fair. He could touch her in a second, and she was easily pretty enough to deserve a little affection.
"No no. It's...1825?"
"Such a smart girl you are, Pepi! Good job!"
His hand dipped past her little skirt, and his fingers grazed against her panties, not only making her jump, but making her squeak a bit more loudly than she meant to.
"Félix, tu perro~..."
"Oh I'M the dog, huh? Says the girls with the ruined panties. Was it the kissing, or are you just like that with me?"
He snickered as she weakly smacked him, already knowing her ears were burning.
"Don't flatter yourself. It's...because you're helping me. It's sweet."
"Aw, Pepa-"
"That and it's in the library. It's kinda hot."
"Yeah, that sounds like you."
So she wasn't the good girl her mami wanted her to be. She was herself, and that was all that mattered. Félix checked to make sure the librarian was far away and busy, before he motioned towards the book.
"Okay, I'm throwing you a hard one. You get a nice prize if you get this. Ready, pretty girl?"
Oh she was kicking his ass for that. How DARE he call her that, and make her knees like jelly?
"R-ready."
"Good. Balboa, Vasco Núñez de Balboa. Who was he, and what was he known for?"
Not even a year. He just had to pick some stupid history figure, and apparently what he was known for. His fingers moved past her panties, right to her pussy. He moved in just those slow little circles, far too slow for her.
"I...mmph...you know the answer, don't you?"
"I like history, so yes. And you're stalling. I'll even let you try to find it in the book. Go on."
How could she read when his fingers were torturing her? She swore you could even hear how wet she was under him.
"He...was a guy."
"Uh huh, go on."
He was tempting her now, teasing her with the notion of sticking his finger inside of her. He leaned in too, as if trying to look in the book. He was so stupid and so fucking smug.
"In 1513, he...crossed the uh..."
"You're getting there."
Oh boy, WAS SHE. She had to bite her bottom lip to keep back a whimper, trying to scan the pages. She was steaming up the room, she could tell, and it was SO embarrassing.
"Crossed the Isthmus of Panama to the Pacific Ocean."
"Right. Now why was that important?"
"That wasn't a part of the question you son of a-"
Then he stuck a finger in her. Oh that wasn't fair. His finger stretched her so nicely, it stroked her insides just right, she swore she was shaking. She put one hand under the table to grab onto his wrist, wanting more from him.
"Be good. Answer the question."
He looked so fucking smug, she wanted to smack that right off his gorgeous face. She took a deep breath to relax herself, before trying not to focus on her ever coming climax.
"It meant h-he became the first European to...lead an expedition to have seen, or reached the Pacific from the New World-Félix please, tell me I'm right here, I'm dying!"
Félix left her hanging for a second, just to be a tease, before nodding.
"Good job. Let's get you that prize you wanted."
Félix held onto her neck. Not squeezing, but threatening to as he leaned in to kiss her. His finger moved faster and faster, just how she liked it, and forcing her to cum where she sat. Her cry was muffled into his mouth, and he swallowed it as if he needed air. He held her there, till she eventually came down from her blissful high. She stared up at him, mouth panting as if she just ran a marathon. She swallowed, to keep herself from drooling.
"You're...an awful study partner."
"Well that's a fine 'thank you', and-what's wrong?"
He chuckled, only to see her face of terror. Why was she horrified? Because she came on the seat. On the cloth seat. The once bright red cloth was now dark in her own wetness, it was a disaster.
"Oh my god oh my god this is embarrassing!"
She felt herself start to snow, until he put a hand on her shoulder.
"Hey, easy, easy. Look, that's on me, I didn't think of that. But I can fix it. I think."
Félix looked around the room for some answer, before he looked at his thermos, probably filled with coffee. He sighed, and motioned for her to stand up, before just dumping it on her seat.
"FÉLIX CASTILLO."
Right. The librarian. He just saw Félix emptying his thermos right onto the seat, with coffee now dripping onto the floor. He opened his mouth to explain, when Pepa jumped in.
"I told him to do it!"
"WHY?!"
She couldn't tell him it was an attempt to mask her own stain. So she came up with a lie on the fly.
"I think the chairs are ugly. Like. Really ugly."
"Alright that's it, detention, both of you!"
He huffed as he left to go write them up, and Félix sighed.
"Sorry, Pepa."
"Don't be. Gives us plenty of time to study. You still wanna help me, right?"
Félix grinned as he leaned up to kiss her nose.
"Hey, you get an A on that test, I'll give you a D later~"
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oatskare · 2 years
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dear god camilo did bruno so dirty lmao
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apologize to your tio 😭😭😭
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alluringjae · 3 years
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au cours de l’été - jjh
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⤑ translation: over the summer
⤑ summary: this is a story of an exhausted painter who needed a breather from the hectic city life. so aside from moving to the countryside, the needed air in your lungs also came in the form of a person. this summer meant for pure relaxation, perhaps your heart may dive into him too.
⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader
⤑ word count: 15.2k (so much for saying that i’ll be writing shorter stories)
⤑ genre: fluff, romance, smut | author!jaehyun, painter!reader, strangers to lovers!au, 50s-60s!au, summer love in france!au
⤑ warnings: me inserting some french phrases because I want to practice (feel free to correct me if I made mistakes, i’ll appreciate them), fictional interpretations of real-life people, explicit language, jaehyun being such a romantic pls im in tears, mentions and scenes of burnout (the worst)
⤑ playlist: everybody loves somebody by dean martin | c’est si bon by eartha kitt | it’s always you by chet baker | les yeux ouverts by emilie-claire barlow | a sunday kind of love by etta james | the most beautiful thing by bruno major | try again by jaehyun and d.ear (duh) | free love (dream edit) by honne | petite fleur by jill barber | plus je t’embrasse by blossom dearie | so this is love by ilene woods and mike douglas
⤑ author’s note: this was an idea that just came to me after pinterest kept recommending me poetic beauty/try again jaehyun, so here we are! i intended to write less than 5k words but sometimes plans don’t go as planned once you really invest in the story yet i’m really happy how this turned out!
the romantic exhilaration in my bones are off the charts because this is jaehyun we’re talking about lol enjoy!
⤑ masterlist
⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism, or hellos!
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3 juin 1957
The city life overstimulated your entire system, losing your brainpower and inspiration. Another exhibition that’ll feature your works with other influential painters was happening at the end of the year, and you had nothing prepared so far. You’ve crashed to the deep end of creative fatigue.
So you needed to get away again; somewhere quieter and surrounded by nature.
That’s why you ended up in the countryside down south, somewhere within Provence. It’s purely just for the summer, but extensions were okay as long you get back at least a month before the show. Filing that leave of absence at the studio you worked at was worth it.
You rented an apartment overlooking the marketplace, where the heart of the village was. After arranging things from your boxes and luggage the entire day, you found out that you lacked in the food department.  
So the succeeding day, the entire morning was spent on grocery shopping downstairs then stocking them inside your refrigerator, freezer, and pantry. Right after changing out of your pajamas into a flowy floral dress and sandals, you decided to bike to the bakery that locals suggested. A must-go place for newcomers, they all raved.
“Café des Étoiles Perdues.” (Café of Lost Stars.)
The clear chimes of the bell resounded through the small, cottage-like lobby as you entered inside. An old woman, whom you assumed was the owner, welcomed you openly.
“Oh la la, vous êtes belle! Vous vous appelez (Y/N), la nouvelle venue, n'est-ce pas?” (Oh la la, you’re beautiful. Your name is (Y/N), the newcomer, right?)
She complimented, making you shyly mutter your answer. Wiping off the flour from her apron, she introduced herself kindly.
“Je m’appelle Camille. Mes spécialités sont les macarons pisctaches et des croissants avec des amandes. Autre chose que tu aimes?” (I’m Camille. My specialties are the pistachio macarons and croissants with almonds. Is there anything else you like?)
“J'aime tout ce que vous suggères, Madame.” (I’d like anything that you suggest, Madame.)
A younger man, who went by Jaemin, was a part-timer barista who asked for your coffee order. As he directed you to the best seat of the café, which was outside overlooking the garden of blooming sunflowers, you pulled out your sketch pad so you could capture this dreamy view. It was nothing like you’ve ever seen in your life.
You’ve decided on a theme already for your exhibit thanks to your conversations with locals yesterday, which was related to freedom. After being chained to cities for so-called better living and financial standards, it’s actually how your inspiration to create squeezed the life out of you like a lemon. Although it was fun at first to see those tourist spots, it eventually got tiring.
Another matchstick to graze intensity through your bones was what you prayed for.
While you’re engaged in a rough sketch of the scenery, the dandy presence of a young man entered the café with his books. White shirt, red trousers with a matching beret, he sported freckles on his pale face. Despite visiting his favorite café numerously, Camille was overjoyed to see him and his serene smiles.
“Jaehyun! What brings you here?”
“Bonjour, Madame! I’m starving for your croissants because I ran out back home.”
“Not to worry! I’ll pack up some so you’re on your way.” She lightened him up like one of her kids, taking one of the bigger paper bags.
“No rush though, Madame. I’ll be reading and working here for a bit here.” Jaehyun affirmed, bringing it out his wallet and called out for Jaemin.
“Un café crème, s’il vous plait.” (One cup of cappuccino, please.)
Jaehyun’s usual chair was by the large window, overseeing the wide garden planted by the citizens of the village way before he was born. It was places like this he missed after moving to the city for his education and work’s sake. 
That’s the thing when you’re coming from a rich family; you don’t have much of say with what your parents order you to do. However, his recent request to stay in his childhood home (or mansion) again was fulfilled because he couldn’t search for what he needed in the cities anymore.
Jaehyun was a sucker for romance; an old romantic others would say. A lot of women mistook his kindness as flirting on many occasions, but ironically he just wasn’t looking for anyone yet. 
Starting as a novelist in the said genre based on real-life stories of people he met in Paris, Barcelona, London, and more, his stories were popular hits especially to young adults who aspire to find love one day.
However, traveling to the known places no longer felt fun as he got older. The stories he gathered were very similar, just in different languages. It took an enthusiastic dinner with his family, specifically his only older sister Krystal retelling fond stories from their younger years to get the idea of moving back for a bit. So consumed with the city life, he wanted to see things from another perspective.
What was the difference between a love story formed in the countryside than in the city?
It’s been a month since he arrived, but he didn’t hurry himself to do his research. He’s been reading books in his family library, revisiting monumental places, exploring around the village, and reconnecting with old friends as if he never left. 
Readjusting to his former life would make writing easier when he’s motivated enough to do it again. Besides, his books were profiting well enough to his taste; good enough for the next 10 years according to his personal accountant, Kim Jungwoo.
Jaehyun resumed reading this book his mother recommended him before he left. Entitled “Réessaye”, which was about a young man who reunites with his childhood sweetheart after his arranged marriage failed. After what she put her through, he’s hesitant whether to try again or let her go.
Jaehyun enjoyed reading books with realistic outlooks on love because he found them more meaningful, enlightening how exactly it makes you feel and do. Even if he enjoyed reading sappy, fairytale-like stories from time to time, he always returned to the real ones as they only displayed the truth.
That love isn’t always rainbows and sunshine, but something that can also break you especially if you go after the wrong person. This kind of mindset was how he toiled on his stories, which gained him a status outside of his unavoidable labels such as “the only striking son of the Jeong family” or “Valentine Boy”.
He diligently browsed through the climax, where the main male character confessed all his constrained emotions to his sweetheart. But it was until Jaemin pressed the bag of croissants in front of his face after placing down his childhood friend’s drink to disturb his peace.
“Reading again?” He taunted, snatching his book away and throwing the bag on Jaehyun’s lap. “When are you writing that book already? Everyone is practically dying for you to release something new again!”
Jaehyun flatly shook his head, drinking his coffee quietly. It’s not the first time anyone asked (or pressured) him about his next release, and it’s the last thing he wanted to think about. “Not in the mood right now, Jaemin. Now off to work before Madame Camille scolds you again.”
“You’re just stalling because you have nothing to write, don’t you?” Jaemin cunningly expressed, raising a brow. He’s known to catch onto the people’s bs easily; the last person you’d want to say your secrets too and Jaehyun realized too late. Though lucky for him, Jaemin shut the topic down right away so he wouldn’t pop a vein.
“Sais-tu de la nouvelle venue dans le village, d'ailleurs?” (Do you know about the newcomer in the village, by the way?)
“Une nouvelle venue?” (A newcomer?)
Being stuck at his mansion recently, news about village affairs were now late to him. Jaemin’s finger discreetly pointed outside the window, pertaining to a young woman sat outside painting her view in front of her.
That would be you, shading all the flowers in bright colors.
Seeing a new face amazed Jaehyun, especially when she was almost someone right out of a book. In a neat bun with white daisies printed in her dress, she crossed her legs whilst continuing her movements. She bit her lower lip, frustrated over an accidental smudge she made and trying to fix it by blending it with another color. When she accomplished it, she swapped brushes. A thinner one, to outline the shapes of the flower. Her lips curved to a smile after finishing another one perfectly with the rest.
“Jaehyun?”
Jaemin snapped his fingers to his distracted friend, zoning out the window. Still something he hasn’t stop doing, he pondered. With a final snap, Jaehyun broke away from falling hard from his abstract. Jaemin calculated the problem so quickly, analyzing his friend breezily like his medical school requirements.
“Elle est splendide, n'est-ce pas?” (She’s gorgeous, right?)
“Elle ressemble à une personne décente.” (She looks like a decent person.)
Jaehyun pushed it aside, flipping back to the page where he stopped reading. Before Jaemin responded, the door chimed open again to alarm him that a new customer came in. He excused himself to his friend, warning him that this wasn’t the last time he’ll talk about the newcomer too.
Jaehyun nodded along, not taking his friend’s cheeky words so seriously. However, the final result you attempted to create tickled his curiosity, so he slyly peeked from his book to the window.
You’ve freed your hair down, victorious to have started your collection this early in your break. A fantastic start, you let the paint dry first and munch on the croissant that served as your reward. However, you ‘re quick to notice a manly figure glancing through the window. From the side, his brown eyes appeared lively even if his entire face was hidden by the book.
Réessaye by Mark Lee; he must be a romantic. Every person in your studio read it, excluding yourself. Painfully beautiful, they’d summarize it.
Daring to meet more people, you locked eye contact with him. He didn’t expect it, almost flipping from his chair. Bashfully, you waved him a hello to somewhat break the ice. However, it broke his composure, and suddenly, he scurried off with his things from the café.
Now, you got quite worried. You checked your tiny mirror if he saw anything unpleasant with you, but you’d say you look relatively fine. Oh, maybe you could redeem yourself the next time you saw him. After bidding goodbye to Camille and Jaemin, the latter chased after you when you prepared yourself on your bike.
“By any chance, did you say hi to a guy with brown eyes and a red beret?”
“Well, more like I waved at him, then he zoomed out. Did I do something wrong?” You questioned with concern, putting your hands on the handles.
“That’s my friend, who’s quite reserved with strangers. I’m sorry on his behalf.”
“Nah, it’s fine.” You brushed it off politely. “See you again soon, Jaemin!”
Peddling away, letting the cool breeze fan you, your mind reverted its thoughts to that strange man. Maybe you’ll give it some time; you had a lot of it.
“Shucks, he was pretty cute.”
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12 juin 1957
The world must really be on your side with these good decisions because you crossed paths with the strange man again in the café a week later. But instead of running away, he asked nicely if he could sit across your free chair in front of your table outside. It was a Saturday, and the place was packed.
“Joignez-moi, s’il vous plait.” (Join me, please.)
You insisted, giving yourself time to subtly observe his physique a lot more. Freckles dotted under his eyes like a constellation, bushy eyebrows, pink cheeks to match his pale complexion, and wearing a fuzzy knit sweater that meshed well with his green beret. He had some sort of necklace too; there was a heart pendant.
“Vous êtes une artiste.” (You’re an artist.) The small wooden palette of paint beside your small sketch pad was exposed, finding it as a great icebreaker.
“Une peintre, spécifiquement. Franchement, les visuels ici sont trés captivants qu'à Paris.” (A painter, to be specific. Frankly, the visuals here are more captivating than in Paris.)
“Je suis d’accord,” (I agree,) Jaehyun leaned against his chair, taking a better look at you with the remaining light from the descending sun.
“Oh, vous êtes comme moi. J’habite à Paris aussi.” (Oh, you’re like me. I live in Paris too.)
“Bon, je suis née à Londres. Puis, j’ai déménagé où je voulais en Europe depuis j'avais 18 ans. Mais oui, j’habite définitivement à Paris maintenant.” (Well, I was born in London then moved wherever I wanted in Europe for inspiration since I was 18. But yes, I live permanently in Paris now.)
You clarified, beginning to enjoy his comforting company. Initiating conversations with people you’re not acquainted with wasn’t in your range of skills, though he didn’t have an intimidating vibe. He looked too youthful to act like that.
“Je m’appelle (Y/N), d'ailleurs.” (I’m (Y/N), by the way.) You stuck out your hand as a sign of respect, which he enthusiastically obliged.
“Salut, (Y/N). Je m’appelle Jaehyun.” [Hi, (Y/N). I’m Jaehyun.]
He kissed it in a gentleman fashion, applying the manners he’s been taught since he was a child. Should you have been flustered, but no.  It’s been a long time since anyone greeted you like that, specifically back home.
Throughout your talk, you learned more about who he was, his job, and what his life in the countryside is like. He was an author of romance novels, yet you’ve never heard about him prior. Heavily prioritizing your work, you don’t keep up with the new releases or trends at all. Though after mentioning his last name, it piqued your interest.
“Jeong? As in the business, Jeong Tea Inc.?”
“Correct.”
His family was one of the most affluent families in Parisian society. Old money immigrants from South Korea, they brought their tea business to France and it boomed successfully. You’re quite sure you’ve seen his parents in past exhibits, but never did you approach them because you were a rookie then. But he reassured you that it was fine, and to just treat him like you’d treat your friends. Plus, it came to your knowledge that he was the same age as you too.
He opened up how this village was where he lived his childhood, so he asked his parents if he could hand over their mansion for a while for rest. It then shocked both of you at how identical your reasons were for staying in the countryside.
“I’m burnt out from the city, so I’m trying to regain my spirit here hopefully. Besides, I needed a change of scenery after living there for 3 years. My longest stay yet outside of London!”
“I need new ideas for my books. The cities don’t charm me anymore, so I returned here for peace and quiet. Maybe let these ideas come to me rather than me going after them.”
From a bigger lens, people would conclude your interaction as a sight of two artists who passionately talk about their art. But to you, you’d interpret it as two relaxed, young adults in their twenties who simply wanted to run away from the pressures of their art and enjoy the summer as every young adult should.
Not cooped up in the studio or office, but innocently waltzing around with your youth while it’s still there.
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début de juillet 1957
“Dépêche-toi, (Y/N)!” [Hurry up, (Y/N)!]
Jaehyun yelled at your open balcony from downstairs, parking his mini car beside your bike. He planned on taking you somewhere a little farther this time; to absolutely feel like one of the locals.
The countryside urged you to wear more dresses and flat shoes, so you took out a turquoise dress with a white scarf to wrap on top of your head. Like your relaxed fit, your mindset too was calm. Upon meeting him, he wore his round spectacles with a red knit sweater over a white turtleneck long-sleeved top. His fingers were adorned with silver rings, then around his neck was a thin black ribbon. He curled some of his hair again, a style you really liked of his.
You can’t lie, but this man could pull any trend or style and still look extra pretty.
Out of all the locals you’ve befriended in your stay, Jaehyun was always your companion. He took you to varying places that those locals don’t visit nor tourists acknowledge in their reviews for the past few weeks. For someone who hasn’t been in the village for a long time, his memory didn’t disappoint. His childhood was only filled with cheerful moments.
Today, he was taking you to a peaceful district of shops in the farther part of the village. It’s where he’d buy sweets, journals, and accessories with his mother, Krystal, and one of his housemaids every other weekend.
All the stores there were currently bombarded with blooming flowers along their alley, bringing more enticement to those who were roaming around. There was so much life here; the head waiter of one restaurant smiling at every passing customer, one florist handing a free flower to anyone who asks, and a young lady showcasing her jewelry collection to a bunch of women who looked like tourists.
“Cette librairie vendent des livres enveloppés dans du papier. Ma mère m'a offerte l'un d'eux pour mon anniversaire tous les ans comme une surprise.” (This bookstore sells books wrapped in paper. My mother gifted me one of them on my birthday every year as a surprise.)
He trained his attention at a rustic shop with open wooden windows giving a glimpse of their shelves.
“Avez-vous fini les lisant?” (Have you finished reading them?)
“Du début à la fin.” (From cover to cover.)
He took you to this rooftop restaurant overlooking the entire plaza. Since he didn’t arrange a reservation yet didn’t get rejected, he must know the owner. Especially how a lot of the staff gave casual hellos and high fives.
Speaking of the owner, he walked out of his kitchen to introduce himself to you. He went by the name Moon Taeil, another one of Jaehyun’s childhood friends whom he used to play at his house whenever his parents came along.
Gobbling up in the appetizing food Taeil prepared beforehand, Jaehyun brought up your painting exhibition again. He loved hearing artists talk about their works, wanting to know more about their driven mindset and what their imagination is like. After all, it does vary for everyone.
“So far,” You poked your fork through the chicken, taking a bite of it. “I’ve produced 3 paintings. The garden of flowers outside Café des Étoiles Perdues, the kids playing hopscotch in the alley, and the peach tree outside your house.”
“Woah, you’re on a roll.” Jaehyun clapped across you, pouring you another glass of water. He recalled the nights you ranted not having any clue what to do for the exhibit. Then after taking you to more places, he’s rewarded to see you be creatively active again. “How many artworks do you left to make?”
“Around 3-4 left. I have ideas already, but I’m still brainstorming.” You internally rejoiced, loving how much progress you’ve made. “How about you, Jaehyun? How’s your progress?”
Unlike you, Jaehyun still felt stuck. Although he did find couples around the village, none of them intrigued him as much as his past stories. But he won’t give up easily; that’s not in his work ethic.
“Still searching, but I’ll get there.”
Recently, you got ahold of some of Jaehyun’s books from him personally since they weren’t sold in the village. You wanted to understand how he became so well known outside the labels people put him under. Reading his first novel entitled “Des Papillons” (Butterflies), it was about a couple separated during World War II without contact or knowledge about their well-being. Yet whenever they saw butterflies on the day they parted, they took it as a sign that the other was alive wherever they were.
You’re always hanging on the cliff when the scenes revert back and forth to the main male lead getting stuck in intense war scenarios, rooting for him to get out alive each time. In the end, it took 7 years before they were reunited and wed.
Jaehyun had a wonderful way with his words and descriptions, managing to enwrap you in as if you’re also a character in the book. Like how you rooted for that male lead, you’re rooting for him to find his spark again.
Following this uplifting conversation, Jaehyun finally took to your greatly anticipated spot. It was the main viewpoint of Gordes, one of the most beautiful hilltop villages in the country. The sunset was about to hit, and the lights from the city across you slowly turned on like a bunch of dominos.
As you marveled at its aesthetics, Jaehyun leaned against the hood of his car. He sensed how in awe you were, more than you ever were in the city he assumed. So used to the city that being surrounded with nature became foreign to you.
He took out his polaroid camera from his trunk and captured a photo of you from behind. The shutter sounds were obvious, turning your back at the commotion. Jaehyun fanned the freshly printed photo to dry, giving a mischievous smile.
“What can I say? While you’re fawning over the view, mine was more enamoring.”
Although Jaehyun felt overwhelmed the first time he locked eyes with you, he can’t resist the power of his developing feelings for you. The more time he took you around, the more his heart found different details about you to admire. After listening to all those love stories in the past, the people he spoke to shared how there will be some distinct moment where your heart decides who they’re longing for.
That exact view of you by the cliff, he already knew.
He’s infatuated by you.
“Tu es très ringard, Jaehyun.” (You’re so cheesy, Jaehyun.) You scoffed sassily, with a hand on your waist.
“Un gentleman ne ment jamais, (Y/N). Allez, il fait nuit maintenant.” [A gentleman never lies, (Y/N). Come on, it’s night already.]
He cleverly responded, grabbing his car keys from his pocket. The trip back to the village was energizing, putting down the roof of his car to relish the chill breeze of the night weather. You even raised your arms in the air, losing your scarf even from the speed Jaehyun went at!
The two of you belted along to the songs on the radio when the fields were the only ones surrounding you, no neighbors to shout at your rambunctiousness.
The late-night hours drew by so quickly almost like dinner with more of Jaehyun’s friends didn’t happen. Arriving at the front doors of your apartment complex, Jaehyun raced over to your side to open your door. Always maintained proper observation of manners, you appreciated that side of him. Rarely anyone in Paris that you’ve encountered treated you that way because you were a foreigner.
“Bonsoir, (Y/N).” [Goodnight, (Y/N).]
“Bonsoir, Jaehyun. Quand est-ce que je te revois?” (Goodnight, Jaehyun. When can I see you again?)
“Demain et après-demain. Appelle-moi quand tu es libre.” (Tomorrow, and the day after that. Just give me a call when you’re free.)
With a short wave, you entered your building and marched up to the stairs. A good day only meant being tired to the core, ready to crash and fall in your soft bed. Opening your wide windows to let more of the cool breeze in, your eyes easily caught Jaehyun’s classy car still there. As for the owner, he didn’t move an inch from his leaning position.
“Rentre à la maison, Jaehyun! C’est tard!” (Go home, Jaehyun! It’s late!) You shrieked, peeking side to side to make sure none of the neighbors scold you.
Jaehyun laughed wholeheartedly, not budging at all. “La nuit ne fait que commencer, ma chérie.” (The night has just begun, my darling.)
“Comment tu m'as appelé?” (What did you call me?)
Either your ears were fooling you or he addressed you by a divine pet name. The gasp you swallowed, as your entire body tingled with exhilaration. Your mind would simply disregard it like his former teasing words, but your heart begged to differ.
Rather than responding with words, Jaehyun’s voice serenaded you with a wondrous song, C’est Si Bon by Eartha Kitt, that played on the radio earlier. Out of the blue, a random guitar accompaniment followed his baritone vocals.
“En voyant notre mine ravie,”
Against the railing of your wired balcony, your body shifted forward to watch him better.
“Les passants dans la rue, nous envient,”
Your hand perched on your cheek, admiring his talent.
“C'est si bon de guetter dans ses yeux,”
It was like a lullaby, and here you were drowning in its peacefulness. Sensing the passion he gives off in his singing, your heart couldn’t refrain the strings inside from being swayed and tugged.
This was your moment of realization: that you too were smitten.
“Un espoir merveilleux, qui donne le frisson…”
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À la mi-juillet de 1957
“Hello, nature!” You greeted brightly as your legs raced the huge garden in his manor. It was the first time he invited you over, too lazy to go out of the city. His social battery needed a recharge for the weekend, so a picnic within his home would do the trick. Additionally, it was an excuse to bring you over after the numerous times you’ve begged him to.
Jaehyun merely shook his head, enjoying the rush of childlike fun in your veins while you squealed and grazed your hands through the flowers.
He carried a wooden basket full of treats his family maids cooked, taking his time to venture through the rows of flowers. They were growing healthily and phenomenally these days, sometimes riding his bike to personally water them since he became busy with writing again. Lately, he found inspiration again, and so he wrote day and night to set them free.
“Voila!” You yanked out a sunflower, sniffing it a little. “Come on, Jaehyun! Pick up a few for our lunch!”
He followed your order, picking out some he found ideal. But just for fun, he put down the basket and carried you from behind out of the blue. You tried kicking him away, but his muscular arms can’t compete with your soft ones.
“What are you doing?”
“You said to pick up a flower, so I did. The prettiest of them all.”
His flirtatious words were never serious, yet you took it as a compliment. That’s how high your confidence is. Only we define our own worth, not others. The two of you chatted more about your lives until the first rain of the season poured down, chilling down from the raging heat. None of you had an umbrella; the weather was too unpredictable.
Deciding to just run for it, he gave you the wooden basket to protect yourself whilst he used the blanket you’ve sat on. Running with laughter to return to his mansion in the muddy dirt, the cool drops shivered your figure yet felt fantastic.
If you were in the city, you’d panic because it’d mess your appearance and your boss would be infuriated by your unprofessionalism. But in the countryside, it didn’t matter at all. The condition of the rain wasn’t budging to improve, getting stronger by the minute. His entire house even lost power, his housemaids having to bring candles to his bedroom and your assigned one once night dawned.
It was hopeless to return home for you, plus it’s dangerous to drive in in the dark, narrow streets too. Jaehyun handed you some of his fresh clothes so you’d be free from flinching from cold dress sticking to your body.
“Get dressed and some sleep, (Y/N).”
Nodding, you excused yourself to find the bathroom. You’d assume it’d be easy, but this was your first time in his house; a mansion even. Doors from left to right, long corridors that seemed never-ending, no maids were within the vicinity whom you can ask for guidance.
Resorting to return to Jaehyun’s chamber for help, you were taken aback by what your eyes laid on. In front of his full mirror, he discarded his now-dried shirt. Even with the dim lighting, you could make out that he was fit by the transparent view of his abdomen. Peeping like this was wrong, yet you couldn’t turn away just yet. The heat in your cheeks was inevitable, finding composure in such an unholy sight.
Though a gear in you suddenly twisted; a gear that straightened your nerves. You’re taking a bold move on the chessboard of your feelings. Wholly opening his bedroom door again, you leisurely sauntered inside without warning.
“Oh, (Y/N)! Ne peux pas trouver la salle de bain?” (Oh, (Y/N)! Can’t find the bathroom?)
Unbothered as he stood shirtless, you on the other hand silently dropped his clothes on the floor. Holding intense eye contact, your fingers graciously unzipped the side of your dress. Inch by inch, the tension built up like the strong tiny flames lit on the candles around you two. Joining the pile of clothes, all that remained were your white lace undergarments. Unplanned for the get-go, it’s the ideal set for your earlier outfit at the picnic.
“Je me suis perdue, mais je pense avoir trouvé quelque chose de mieux.” (I got lost, but I think I found something better.)
Your fingers grazed your arm up to your collarbones, faking your naivety. From your lust-filled stare, the glint in Jaehyun’s eyes darkened. He gulped at the revealing sight of you, brushing his hair back to restrain himself.
None of you could utter a single word, only the vivacious rain being the only sounds ringing around you. Thus, you allowed your actions to pursue precisely what you desired to do.
Taking baby steps towards him to test the waters, he met you right in the center and closed the leftover space. His hands cradled your face, whilst yours clung to his chest. His lips tasted like red wine, watching him pour in a glass for himself earlier. He did offer, yet you declined.
Your tongue darted his lower lip, gaining access after. Sensing the edge of his bed, you plopped yourself down the cushion. His knee urged your legs to widen, letting his body slide in. From your face, his fingers lowered to the back of your bra, snapping the clasps open.
“It takes skill to accomplish that in one try, Jaehyun.”
“I lived in Paris too, ma chérie. You out of all people would understand and have the experience.”
His palms massaged your freed breasts, throwing your head back even more to his pillows as his lips ravaged down from your stomach until the fabric of your not-so pure panties.
“Call me that again, please.”
“Ma chérie, seras-tu mienne?” (My darling, will you be mine?) He kissed and licked the tiny ribbon in front repeatedly, where your now-swollen clit laid. It electrified your bones, pulling on to his ruffled hair.
“Tu peux m'avoir.” (You can have me.)
Sex in the form of one-night stands were all you’ve invested; upcoming artists like you weren’t capable to maintain long-term relationships. Les plans à trois even if you’re extra freaky or drunk from the afterparties of your events. All that these occurrences had in common were not seeing those men ever again after sneaking out of their apartments in the morning.
This time, it’s different.
When they said that doing the deed with someone you’re romantically entangled with was more special, they didn’t bluff. You could plan bits of your life, but it can sometimes change aspects of it when you least expect it. Sometimes for the best or the worst, but right now, it went beyond your expectations.
It’s rewarding that the man you’ve slowly fallen for within your stay returned your affections.
Around late 3 am that night, your brain jolted with artistic ideas that awoken your sonorous rest. There are no hopes of sleeping them off because they tend to bother you for hours until you do something about it. But you’re already so cozy having Jaehyun’s arms around you, skin to skin under the duvet. His lips daunted right above your forehead, recalling his endless kisses there that helped you fall asleep.
Well, these ideas don’t work themselves unless you do. Untangling him tactfully, you stepped out of the blanket and wore one of his long white shirts he gave you earlier before pulling out your sketchpad and palette of oil paints.
Luckily, there was still one available candle to use as the rest have melted indefinitely. You slid the matchstick again to the sand surface, boring a flame from the friction which you placed on top of the wick.
All your ideas that night leaned towards one thing, or person rather: Jaehyun.
You spent a few minutes retracing how he vividly looked at the picnic, leaning back from the chair of his work desk. His outfit of a turquoise turtleneck underneath a white button-top with trousers matching the said turtleneck looked good together, how his ears tingled red after you complimented his newfound inspiration for his book, and the prominent veins in his arms when he rolled his sleeves due to the heat.
The thin brush you held defined the shape of his face, then paying attention to the messy strands of his hair. Stroking in a circular way to outline his eyelids, a hoarse grunt disturbed the peaceful silence.
“Get back in bed, ma chérie.” His eyes drowsily opened, lying on his side. The moment he no longer felt your warmth, he worried something happened. Instead, you’re working late at night after quite a rough yet romantic night.
“Shush,” You shunned him down with your index finger. “Give me a few more minutes.”
“Perhaps, are you painting me?” He hunched from the covers. “Your eyes looking back and forth would never lie to me, would they?”
“Maybe…” You teased, batting your eyes at him without any risky intentions. Or not?
He deeply chuckled, sluggishly removing himself under the covers. In his pure nudity, he advanced himself towards you. You shrieked, covering yourself with your free hand.
“Jaehyun, stay back! I told you I’ll be there soon!”
Not listening, he carried your bridal style, making you drop your precious palette to the fur rug. Laying you carefully, he popped each button open. By the sight of his cock hardening again, you knew you were in for another round with him.
“Wet again, ma chérie? Oh, this will be fun.”
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Fin de juillet 1957
So this kind of summer romance concept that everyone fantasized about… it became your present.
Together you’d stroll in the smaller streets and immerse yourselves in the unique culture of the village. Whenever anyone saw you together, holding hands, biking, or what-not, they’d praise in the name of love for bringing you both together. A romance like yours in the countryside was a lively sight.
Remember how extensions were a possibility if your search for inspiration wasn’t found? Well, it’s not a question that you’d make one, except inspiration found you instead. And he had one arm around you as he slow danced with you in the open grounds of the village, listening to the live band covering song classics.
In particular, Chet Baker. He was Jaehyun’s favorite artist at the moment.
There was an ongoing week-long festival dedicated to summer, giving more plants their bloom and spreading gratitude to the hardworking people. Especially the students, off on their break.
The faint radiance from the post lights as Jaehyun swayed you around, making you laugh as he tried to mumble the lyrics of the song. All those glasses of wine he tried earlier with you from the bartender offering it for free had its effects, and you weren’t off the hook from them either.
Blisters started to form from your ankles, adjusting to the new pair of heels Jaehyun gave (or insisted to buy) you a while ago after staring at them like lasers. You’ve always provided things for yourself that being spoiled by someone else felt weird to you.
“If there’s anything you want me to buy for you, just tell me.”
“How can I buy you if you’re already mine?”
His smooth talk often made you punch his shoulder, but it’s just a mechanism to hide the exhilaration.
Under each other’s spells in your dance, you laid your head on Jaehyun’s chest. Feeling the strong beat of his heart, you were reminded of how much life he’s filled with. And you became a part of it, in the same way he crossed yours.
Jaehyun’s lips sank to the top of your head, pecking it affectionately. The first-ever summer where he wasn’t stuck at his desk working or drinking his life away with his rich friends in their Parisian homes, it couldn’t get better than this.
“Oiii! Flirtez ailleurs!” (Oiii! Flirt somewhere else!) The distinct voice of Jaemin, handing out pastries to passersby, shouted at the both of you, making you flip your middle finger at him.
“Trouve une copine d’abord, d’accord?!” (Find a girlfriend first, alright?!) You shouted back jokingly, almost falling due to the ache of your feet. Your immodest behavior was censored by Jaehyun’s large palms, not wanting the kids around to see it. Whispering closely to your ear,
“Tu es ivre. Laisse-moi te ramener chez toi.” (You’re drunk. Let me take you home.)
You changed back into your sandals as Jaehyun led you through the different alleys. Your vision was too hazy to navigate, so he had one arm wrapped around your shoulders. The weather grew cold too, shivering your bones so he draped you in his blazer.
“Wait,” You stopped, making him do the same. But before he could ask for your reason, your hands yanked him by his suspenders and your legs walked backward to reach the brick wall. Standing in his 5’11 glory, you were overpowered.
Yet your lips captured his effortlessly, raising to your toes to press yourself closer to him. He moved fast, one arm hugging your waist while the other hoisted your leg up. Tangling around his waist, the urge to move your hips against his crotch couldn’t be contained any longer.
Everyone was probably still out at this time or sleeping. The sloppy sounds you’ve produced were beyond suitable for any audience. Not to mention, the nasty words Jaehyun’s pretty mouth spoke in your ears desired you to fall to your knees.
“Not afraid of getting caught, ma chérie? You want me to ruin you right here, right now?”
“God, Jaehyun,” Your hands tugged his belt forward, the friction it gave to your core twitched the naughty side out of you. “Do it, please.”
The idea of public sex thrilled your mind into overdrive, yet you’ve never done it. In Paris, a city where several people started to know your name, you didn’t need a scandal to be plastered in your resume yet.
Jaehyun himself included, and still opted not to give it to you.
“Another time, ma chérie. Your apartment, now.”
The moment you unlocked your apartment door, Jaehyun was far from gentle like in the mansion. Ripping you out of your frilly dress didn’t take long, so was unbuttoning his trousers down to the floor.
On your knees, his hand gave you a makeshift ponytail as your tongue flicked the slit of his cock. Then slowly taking him inch by inch on your mouth, you’d let out a loud pop when you needed to breathe. Your hands fondling his balls, he groaned from the edge of your bed and tightened his hold on you. Tears formulated in your eyes as you got to swallow him whole, uncontrollably bobbing your head.
He felt like putty when he released, your throat taking the salty base. You hastily unhooked your bra in front of him when suddenly, his hand flicked on the fabric of your panties, cueing you to stop your motion.
“Keep them on when you ride me.”
Straddling on his lap, his head laid against the headboard of his bed. His arms roaming around your back to stabilize you, your fingers pushed your panties to the side as you pushed yourself down his protected length. Your moans became shaky. Up and down, you bounced while bracing on his shoulders.
Against his ear, your moans were harmonious. His hips moved against your beat, hitting your g-spot like the sexual ace he is. His thumb rubbing your clit, you shuttered your eyes at the impending high approaching you like a bus.
“I’m close.” You choked out, the overstimulation overwhelming your nerves.
“Fuck, me too.” He grunted, slapping your butt that made you shriek.
Soon enough, everything hit you both all at once. The knot snapped, and so did your body falling on his chest after a single scream. Panting, Jaehyun pecked on your temple as his cock softened up. Once you returned to your senses, you lifted yourself from his length, laying bare beside him.
His eyes started to fall, but before they did, he muttered huskily. “Je t’aime, (Y/N).”
It was the first time he’s said those words in the way they meant, and he’s more than certain that it’s what he felt with you. Sure, it started as mutual infatuation, but now, it can’t leave. Not on his watch.
Love was a concept unfamiliar to you, but Jaehyun slowly taught you what it was and how it felt like. Books and films may give sneak peeks, but to personally give and receive it back was made possible by him.
From this moment on, you could conclude that yes, you reciprocated it.
“Je t’aime aussi, Jaehyun.”
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16 octobre 1957
Autumn made its way to the countryside.
The leaves switched into red-brown shades, the weather in the south was warmer, and the wine harvest was highly anticipated. Jaehyun’s camera was a common item in your outings, taking as many photos as he could so the two of you had something to look back on.
Planned and candid, his range was wide. These were moments that proved that your youth was as happy as you wished it to be. You wouldn’t trade it for anything else.
Painting in his mansion was a regular thing, having new canvases prepared at his patio. There were so many items that amused you there like you could base your entire collection on his home. It’s not like Jaehyun could argue; it meant more time with you whenever you came over.
“Jaehyun, if you smudge paint on me, so help me Go-” He refused to listen to your “threats”, smearing black paint on your cheek.
“You were saying?” He cockily pestered, showcasing his paint-filled fingers. You dipped one of your brushes into the new paint and chased after him without hesitation. The entire evening became a paint war, a laugh fit even after seeing your reflections in the mirror. But before you could clean yourself, Jaehyun’s camera was by your face and he pressed the button.
“Still breathtaking.”
But the middle of the season arrived, that’s where your planned extension you’ve reached its end. The exhibit was next month, getting calls from your boss regarding your return and the paintings you’ll present. You informed her that you already had them mailed to your studio way back, so there’s nothing much to worry about.
All your bags were packed in the private car Jaehyun rented. Here, you’re bidding your goodbyes to every friend you’ve made outside the doors of your apartment complex, saving your last words with Jaehyun.
The night before, he stayed over and helped you pack your last items in luggage bags. He even brought extra clothes for you so you wouldn’t work extra. You’ve talked it out the whole evening through what happens next to ease your worries. In your bed, he opened the wide windows and pulled you under the sheets.
“Write to me.”
“Call me when you’re free, or whenever you feel like it.”
Leaning against the railing of the stairs, watched the sorrow in your face over this parting. He sensed how bittersweet everything was, but he wouldn’t change anything about it. He’s positive that your story won’t end here, not right now.
Sauntering to him, you sighed whilst taking your bag he held the whole time from him. His touch was tighter as the two of you hugged tenderly, nuzzling his head on your shoulder. The scent of his citrus cologne that implanted in your brain felt comforting, despite the uncertainty of everything between you.
You hinted a minty taste from the menthol candies from his home as his lips brushed yours, colliding it timely. He waited when everyone left, relishing these last seconds.
Stepping inside the vehicle, you waved your summer love farewell one more time before the driver hit the pedal. Your eyes couldn’t stray away from looking back, the distance between him and your former apartment widening. Only when he was no longer in the frame, you shifted your focus back in front.
Your fingers fiddled with the charm bracelet he gifted you from the market. It was custom-made by a jeweler who was great friends with his mother in his younger years. There were two pendants chained on it: a paintbrush and the sun.
“A paintbrush to remind you of your passion, and the sun to remind you of the summer we first met.”
The man was like one of his romance books, in human form. He knew how to catch your breath effortlessly.
Your stay, for now, may have concluded, but there was always next summer. And the ones after that. The village felt like a second home, one you can’t neglect like the other places you’ve lived. Then having Jaehyun here, the more reasons to return.
Undoubtedly the best vacation you’ve ever been in your adult years, one that didn’t sacrifice for your art so you could compete with other artists. The weight on your chest poofed into thin air, and you felt ready for what the next steps as a painter were.
Appreciating the greenery you passed by, you peeked over the side mirror of the car only to find Jaehyun quickly biking in your direction.
Now, what was he up to?
You instantly requested the driver to slow down his pace, rolling down the window of the car. Not caring about the strong winds, “You fool, what are you doing?!”
Although he trusted your last words, he had the greed to see your face again. It would be a long time until he’ll see you in person again. So he pedaled as fast he could to still reach you. Oh, the things you do when you’re in love.
“Mon cœur bat la chamade pour toi, (Y/N)!” [My heart beats loudly for you, (Y/N)!]
You giggled at his silliness, throwing out flying kisses.
“Je reviendrai bientôt, Jaehyun!” (I’ll come back soon, Jaehyun!)
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21 octobre 1957
Only your friends at the studio gave you a warm welcome back, receiving comments like “get back to work” from your first encounter with your boss. Popping a champagne glass open after work hours on the rooftop of your studio, they interrogated you with all the questions they could think of.
“So this village in Provence…. was it beautiful as the tourists said?” Ten, who moved from his home in Thailand to Paris at a young age, expressed his curiosity whilst leaning against the railing overlooking the Eiffel Tower.
“Beautiful is an understatement, Ten. I miss it dearly!” You heaved a sigh, twirling your glass.
“So this inspiration you were looking for…” Amélie, your dear friend since your university days, created some tension as she prolonged her last word. Playfulness twinkled in her eyes, crossing her legs. “Was a person involved by any chance?”
For a moment, your throat almost gagged on the sizzling alcohol going down.
“What do you mean?” You acted clueless, pouring your now empty glass with more booze. But the moment Ten gave you the troublesome look coordinating with Amélie, you already knew you wouldn’t hear the end of it. These two were such gossips in and out of the studio.
Ten took the seat across you on the table and leaked all his pent-up information.
“So you know Seo Youngho, the only son of the Seo family. Rich, socialite, a total hotshot… yeah, all that jazz.” He dived in, seeing you nod over knowing that man. Someone in the past you’ve slept with, but that’s another story. “Well, Amelie and I attended one of his parties at his large penthouse. He had his usual crowd there; Kim Doyoung, Lee Taeyong, Nakamoto Yuta, and Lee Minhyung. But fun fact: there’s another member in that friend group who doesn’t go to these kinds of events.”
“Here’s where it gets interesting,” Amélie excitedly took off like the pipelette (chatterbox) she is. “Youngho, who was talking to us for a bit, asked where you’ve run off. Poor him, he must’ve missed you in his bed but anyway! We told him that you went down south somewhere in Provence for a break. Oddly enough, he mentioned how the mentioned member moved back there for the same reason.”
Ten and Amélie gave each other another frisky look, merely to piss you off. So predictable of them.
“Get to the point please!” You screeched.
“Jeong Jaehyun, ever heard of him?” Amélie imitated your tone of voice. “I mean, you should since you made a whole painting of him.”
“H-How,” Speechless, that’s what you were. Ten went on a fit of giggles, signaling the build-up of his intoxication.
“Youngho visited the studio to find a specific painting for his home, and we helped him in choosing. Then when your deliveries of paintings arrived that day and were unwrapped, the look on his face when he saw Jaehyun’s painting was priceless. Things started to add up, especially when he told us that he called up Jaehyun prior, he said that Jaehyun was seeing a girl during his stay there.”
“A young, burnt-out painter from Paris, to be specific.”
They’ve put you on the edge of the cliff, and it was too close to call it a coincidence. Of all things to be revealed, this had to be the first.
“Well, I was waiting for another time to tell you guys about him though.”
Their gasps of joy could give you guys a noise complaint by the neighbors, telling all about your escapades of him and you. During it, the more you missed seeing him daily either on his bike or his car. It was stuck in your routine, but now it’s reverted to your old one.
Could the next summer come any faster?
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14 février 1958
Perhaps your newest collection at the Louvre was your most successful one yet.
Entitled “Inspirez, Expirez” (Breathe In, Breathe Out), your sceneries during your stay in the village varied. An old couple slow dancing under the night sky, and the quiet district of shops Jaehyun took you, those were some of your last additions.
A multitude of positive reviews on the newspapers and art magazines came in, commending on taking on a fresher, brighter outlook for a change whilst finding your spark again. As fulfilling it was, what you longed the most was the one responsible for it.
Lately, it’s been tough to contact him. His maids always answered the calls, informing you that he was busy with work or family matters. It’s so rare for him to act like this. Whatever it was, it wasn’t grand or serious hopefully.
Back to your collection, tonight was the last night of it. Just in time for Valentine’s day, where numerous socialite lovers embarked on this event, but you’re more fixated that it was also Jaehyun’s birthday. A boy full of love born on the day dedicated for it, things made more sense. In case, you’ve sent your birthday wishes to him through letter and passing the message to one of his maids. Even on his special day, he hasn’t reached out to you.
But to momentarily forget about that, there was a closing ceremony held for this exhibit with the other artists involved, and it was your turn to give your final remarks. More esteemed socialites and journalists were present, which didn’t halt your nerves the slightest. You were a professional after all, holding pride in your craft as you stood in front of the microphone wearing your new favorite custom-made gown.
There are perks when you have close friends in the fashion industry, specifically Kim “Key” Kibum from the House of Key. After defending him from a disrespectful client when you were picking up a dress for your boss during your internship years, not only did you earn his respect, but an invite to his shows and first claiming of new items from his collections. Dining in expensive restaurants in the metro was a plus, catching up on your lives. Sometimes calling each other out for your sexcapades too.
Speaking of him, he was in the crowd that night, ordering every photographer to take photos of your gorgeous self in one of his dresses. Or in your opinion, bribing some by how he stuffed a few thick stacks of Euro bills down their pockets.
Only one of it ever made. A dark green satin v-neck off-the-shoulder gown, where diamonds adorned your neck and ears and white stilettos kept your perfect balance. Also courtesy of Key.
Because it’s the winter season, he gifted you a limited edition white fur coat every socialite tried getting their hands on. Your hair was styled in a bun, emphasizing your dark tinted lips from this new lipstick Amelie insisted you buy.
Most people would get the first impression that you were one of the socialites, a child from one of the affluent families even. But you were a lot more remarkable than that, having inborn talent in the arts that you specialized over your youth and rising to the top without any parental help.
“Thank you to everyone for their endless support towards the magnificent collections of each artist present. As for mine, I am grateful to rechannel my creative side by taking a break. Rather than romanticizing overworking our bones to the core, there’s nothing wrong with taking a step back from the pressure. Being alive is a blessing, realizing further how our youth won’t stay with us forever. Being away from the boisterous cities, I found relaxation in the countryside of Provence.”
Your lips quirked into a grin as every single memory during that time reeled in your head like a movie. “The beauty of Provence cannot be simply put in words. The muses I’ve encountered were more than lovely, especially the man behind the Poetic Rose. With that, I sincerely thank everyone from my bottom of my heart and I hope to continue to support me in the years to come.”
The applause roared once you stepped down the platform, shaking hands with every esteemed guest with more gratitude as they praised you. These days, socializing with them was a lot easier. You’ve even taken more initiative to greet people first before they do, conversing with them easily about anything.
Key definitely noticed that as you toured him around your section, holding his nth glass of wine for the night.
“You, Madame (Y/N), transformed into a social butterfly.” He nudged your shoulder, smirking once he got a better view of his favorite painting from you. “I guess that’s the thing when you’re in love.”
“I beg your pardon?”
With this free hand, he motioned it up and down at the painting in front of you. “The Poetic Rose is none other than the youngest son of the Jeong family, whom I’ve met through his older sister, Krystal.”
“Am I really the only one who doesn’t know him?!” You stressed, jokingly. Key was elated to capture you in his trap, the changes of your personality too evident in his eyes. Figuring it out that it was love took a while, but being acquainted with Krystal, she’s the one who told him that her younger brother was in love with a painter in Provence. Do the math.
“I’ve met him through his older sister, one of my highly favored clients. He’s not much of a socialite like her, so I don’t really blame you for that.”
Searching for a waiter to refill your wine glasses, a surprise emerged the both of you.
“Madame Krystal, you’re absolutely stunning.”  Key complimented her, giving the engaged heiress of Jeong Tea Inc. kisses on the cheek as respect. Her recent engagement to Kim Donghyun, her childhood sweetheart and also the heir of Kim Couture, was the talk of the town.
They arrived at the event together, drawing the attention of everyone in the room earlier. Now, he was speaking to a few influential socialites he made a deal with this week about the art collections present.
“Key, you never fail to look fantastic,” She remarked positively, poking his necktie before placing her undivided attention on you. “So you must be (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You’re beyond bewildering in that gown.”
“Flattered to hear that, Madame Krystal. Such a pleasure to meet you.”
The three of you chatted as if you were the only people there. From art, passion, and love, pride filled in your chest when you toured your collection. It was like walking down memory lane for her, adding out how she used to climb the peach tree with her younger brother during their childhood. Once her eyes laid on Poetic Rose, she took her time admiring it.
“My younger brother grew up well. That’s all I could ever hope for as his only older sister.” She paused, noticing how silent you became when you stared at the painting along with her. She observed the passion lit in your eyes, yet there was longing behind it by the way your lips pouted briefly. “You must really love him, do you?”
“I do, truly. After meeting him, not only was I boosted with so much ideas, but my heart embraced him for what and who he is in this universe.” You professed confidently, earning an approving smile from Krystal.
“If that’s how you feel, why not tell him that yourself?”
Her fingers gestured you to turn around. Stood in a grey suit with his brown hair slicked back, it was like seeing a completely new person. A handsome one though. His fashion in the countryside heavily differed from his fashion in the cities. So sophisticated and refined, he looked like a prince straight out of a fairytale.
Your fairytale.
“Jaehyun.”
It’s like everything stopped once he sprinted towards you, pulling you off your feet for a snug hug. Your arms threw themselves on his neck by instinct, not wasting a single second in his grasp. Your nose inhaled the woody scent of his cologne, something more formal than his usual fruity scent.
The smell of aftershave in his jaw couldn’t go ignored either, assuming that he must have had plans to go out tonight. Nonetheless, you squealed as if you were back in Provence, giggling at his boldness. Once he put you down, neither of you could get your hands off each other.
“What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you’d be in Paris!” Clutching your waist, you gazed at him with doe-like eyes, instilling confusion.
“J’ai voulu te surprendre, my chérie.” (I wanted to surprise you, my darling.)
He chuckled, pushing some straying strands of your hair behind your ear. His eyes evoked so much endearment towards this elegant look you prepared, making his heart race as if he were in the gardens of his manor again.
Hearing his petname for you again attacked your heart every time no matter how much time passed, he lifted your chin high. Jaehyun urged himself to kiss you senseless right there, leaning lower. And yes, you anticipated it by how your eyes instantly closed.
Only if it weren’t for Krystal to clear her throat, obviously ruining the mood. Flinching away from your sensual lover, you rubbed the nape of your neck. Towards an heiress like her, it must’ve been unprofessional.
“Couldn’t you at least wait until I left, younger brother?” Her fingers flicked Jaehyun’s forehead, a teasing trick they used to do as kids. Even if she was a lot shorter now, it didn’t mean the impact was weak. He cursed under his breath, covering his forehead.
Stifling your laughter was a failure, crinkling your eyes to unleash your emotions. So this is what their sibling dynamic was like?
“Now excuse me, older sister. You didn’t tell me you were visiting the exhibit after my birthday dinner with our parents?” He crossed his arms, exchanging a judgmental look. For his sake, he wanted to maintain his pride. “All you said after dinner was that you were going straight home with your fiancé after all the alcohol mother gave you because it made you lightheaded.”
“Well, you know Key and his persuasiveness. He insisted I attend this event last minute because all the collections were amazing.” She explained, shedding a subtle glance at you. “Plus, it’s an excuse to finally meet this lovely girl you raved so much through your letters.”
Jaehyun kept his family life private, so this piece of information was new to you. The unpredicted way the fluttering feeling drew in your stomach, all you could do was smile from the flattery.
“He spoke about me to you?”
“More than speak, my dear. He practically professed his love for you, asking me advice on how to court a girl, make them smile, etcetera. You’re the first girl he’s been this affectionate with, and I completely understand now.” She patted your shoulder, hopeful. She had such a strong older sister vibe, reminding you of your older siblings back home. “You’re a clever, talented woman. I look forward to seeing you more often.”
As you nodded in approval, she turned towards her brother with her recurring teasing look. “Yah, Jaehyun. You better take care of her. If she ever sheds a tear because of you, I’m hunting you down in the gardens.”
“Harsh of you, Krystal.” He planted his hand on his chest, feigning pain. “But no worries. Having you and mother around me kept me well-mannered towards women growing up.”
Playfulness aside, Krystal felt honored towards her younger brother. Men these days maintained their sexist beliefs and rudeness, especially those who doubted her high position in the family business once her father stepped down. Nowadays, it’s men like Jaehyun who could really challenge the patriarchy and make women pursue a lot more than being limited as a housewife.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Now please excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”
Krystal waltzed her way out without tripping from her slight intoxication, which Jaehyun worried about earlier. But anyway, that left him alone with you. Filled with so many questions, you didn’t know where to start.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Paris? Why didn’t you acknowledge my birthday wishes to you? Why aren’t you answering my calls and letters?” You blurted without wasting a breath, weren’t trying to come off as needy, but it became peculiar when he was contacting you like usual.
You pushed off thinking of the worst scenarios, not wanting it to ruin your drive and your emotions either. Yet you trusted Jaehyun enough to know he wasn’t the type of person either.
“Okay slow down, ma chérie.” His hands maneuvered for you to stop for a bit. “Ask me one by one and I’ll give you a solid answer for each while we roam around.”
He arrived in Paris last week, which was initially for work. Then his birthday clashing was a coincidence. It would be too lonely to go home and celebrate his special day alone, so he extended. But again, it’s his work that caused his abrupt contact.
When you were too busy delving into the success of recovering your inspiration, he also found his spur to write again too. Day and night, his mind kept him tedious with an endless trail of thoughts and words. Overall, he finalized it then brought the end product to the same publishing house where his books in the past went through.
In fact, he decided to publish them specifically today on his birthday. The only day in his itinerary he planned, where after publishing, he’d hang out with his friends, have dinner with his family then run off to reunite with you.
“I didn’t intend to make you feel like a second choice, so please forgive me for that, ma chérie.”
“All is forgiven, Jaehyun.” You held both his hands, kissing them tenderly out of habit. “I’m overjoyed that you rekindled your creative side again.”
You were so understanding and empathetic, and Jaehyun aimed to act that way too. He learned so much from you as his friend before being his lover. Quickly enough, you’re both back to his portrait in the center. Like a critic, he narrowed his eyes and scrunched his nose. Tapping his chin with his finger,
“This man in Poetic Rose, he’s quite dashing.” He commented with conceit, walking closer to it to view it better. “His freckles are on point, his dimples and dazzling eyes too. Why exactly is he described as a Poetic Rose?”
“Well sir,” You stood beside him, imitating his actions. “This man here always spoke so eloquently, like he had a very poetic approach on life. He reminded me also of a rose by his rosy tinted cheeks and his beauty. He was alluring inside and out.”
“Is he your favorite muse?”
“I never quoted him as a muse because he’s more than that. Muses can be replaced once they no longer serve purpose towards the artist. Though with him, he’s the never-ending flame that I want to keep for the rest of time."
You held on to his hand, interlocking your fingers with his. The apparent reddening of his ears proved that he was flustered, yet you spoke no lies.
“Joyeux anniversaire, ma flamme.” (Happy birthday, my flame.)
“Merci beaucoup, ma chérie.” (Thank you, my darling.)
Something about his new release piqued your attention so you brought it up again.
“So tell me about your new book.”
“Let me show you instead.” Inside the blazer, there was an inner pocket that sealed a small hardbound book. Taking it out, he handed it over to you. “This is your copy.”
The cover of the book had an illustration of two young adults running down the fields under the bright sun, with the title written in cursive and placed in the center.
“L’Été de 1957.” (The Summer of 1957.)
Like a child who received a new gift in the mail, you flipped the book open. Seeing the table of contents and credits to other important people involved in the process, there was a detailed dedication right before the starting chapter. It’s an unexpected page, noticing that he never put anything like this in his last works.
“Pour ma chérie, qui a peint les couleurs manquantes de ma vie.” (For my darling, who painted the missing colors of my life.)
Although Jaehyun planned to write about the couples he met in the countryside, he chose to change his perspective. Instead, he based this new book on your summer romance, installing more original characters who made your romance blossom more.
“I was once so engaged in listening to people’s love stories, hung up on what they felt.” He expounded, pacing around the floor whilst you skimmed through the pages. There were black and white photos from your adventures too to wrap the reader further in the story.
“While I was struggling to find the next story, I realized late that my story with you was a perfect choice. When I fell in love with you, it’s like I didn’t have to fret anymore about anything. Everything slowly yet surely aligned into place for me. Like how we found inspiration in each other.”
A poetic speaker meant having a poetic, wise mind. You kept an open mind whenever Jaehyun shared his thoughts on life with you, an intimate time that didn’t require using your bodies. Whether you were stargazing or drinking wine by his patio, his soulful personality never changed.
“So I recapped every single memory we had and compiled them,” He resumed, taking a closer step towards yours. His warm hands grasped your waist again, catching a glimpse of your astonished face. Mostly, towards your lips that he missed feeling against his.
“This book expressed my own take on love this time, the one I want to grow in.”
You’d care less if you dropped the book and your coat right there, your major desire to kiss him again was driving your senses to the edge of a cliff. Nothing could’ve braced yourself the second you fervently collided your lips with his. It didn’t feel like you were in this exhibit, but somewhere back in his mansion engulfed in each other’s presence.
Your legs almost melted by your daring move, if it weren’t for Jaehyun’s arm moving upwards to your back to stabilize you more. Your body tingled with goosebumps due to his relaxing fingers all over your body. His tongue caved in your lips, and you couldn’t ban its access.
Such an explicit sight, it felt forbidden as you were inches away from the public crowd. Yet it was the least of your worries if they made a big fuss over it. Jaehyun was here again with you, and that was more valuable to you. He savored every trace of your touches, taking his delicate time with you. No past birthday could defeat this, especially when it’s the first one to celebrate with you. The first of many.
As much you wanted to keep this up for hours, your lungs started feeling constricted of air so your lips timidly let go. Though your hands couldn’t, your overwhelmed eyes couldn’t shift away from the heart-stopping view of your lover. Wherein even after such a fearless session, his eyes fused with love and need with his plumper lips.
“Everything about Provence, especially you, that’s the life I want.” You confessed this concealed secret that’s revolved your head for a while now. Yet its certainty was true.
“Are you sure, ma chérie? What about work?” As an artist, he believed you should stay where everything is accessible. Yet as his woman, he wanted you to follow your heart. Jaehyun didn’t want you to choose or struggle.
“I’ve grown out from the idea that the city life was the only life meant of an artist like me.” You replied, confident enough to discuss it after deep thought. “Cities like Paris hold exciting, vigorous flames that will have you clinging on to them. But then, they’ll eventually die the longer you stay. You get burned in the process too. However, I stand by what I said earlier. I found an endless flame when I met and began loving you, Jaehyun. It doesn’t sting at all; it illuminates strongly every living day.”
Urging him to lower his stance with your fingers, you stated one last phrase. “Wherever you are, that’s where I want to be.”
“If that’s the case,” Jaehyun acknowledged, sticking his arm out for you. “Let’s get out of here.”
Astounded expressions crowded the socialites in the event as they watched the both of you exit together. If the news of Krystal and Donghyun weren’t crazy enough, some journalists figured the mysterious man behind The Poetic Rose and spread it like wildfire.
How was the youngest son of the Jeong family turned renowned romance novel author connected to the impressive, up-and-coming painter from London?
What really went down in Provence?
“How can you miss out on the signs? Did you not see them share a kiss earlier?” Key protested to those who weren’t approving whatever relationship you guys had. He loved his tea but hated those who simply were money hungry. Wanting a chance to be a part of the rich family, only to fish them out of their riches sooner or later.
Meanwhile, the winter season didn’t stop any of you from roaming the streets of Paris. Moments like these were a preview of the future you’ve envisioned with Jaehyun. Youthful, free, and fiery, a love between two artists created more magic not just in their crafts but to those around them.
Promenading a street overlooking the Seine River, Jaehyun took out a smaller instant camera from his pocket and took a candid shot of you. Stunned, you slapped his chest with your bag.
“Hey! Just how many more things are hidden in your blazer?”
“Just my wallet and a few condoms. Why’d you ask?” He raised a suggestive brow, feigning good intentions.
You hummed, faking your deep thought mindset. “At this rate, I don’t think we’ll make it back to my apartment alive.”
Jaehyun tugged you by your coat, his lips hovering your ear to whisper. “If we call a cab right now, I can finger you in the backseat.”
You chuckled at his vulgar idea, but it seemed ideal. You loved the thrill of getting caught or having someone overhearing you two, just like him. Besides, his fingers don’t match up to yours when you touch yourself alone in your apartment. You bat your eyelashes, giving in.
“Deal.”
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6 ans plus tard (1964)
Summer returned, the sun strongly smiling down to the plentiful flowers at your family garden. By the patio of your home, your canvas was already laid by the easel stand. Shades of yellow were applied first to symbolize the brightness of the day, following the outline of your desired scenery for this piece.
Dipping the brush in water to change colors, you took another glance at the breezy sky. Light blue with clouds resembling soft pillows, you inhaled gently as your brush faintly stroked the canvas again.
Your hair was tied in a bun, meaning that you’re in for a busy session. But a more soothing one as the jazz music flowed from the vinyl player inside. Stress was the last thing you needed right now.
“What’s madame artiste up to right now?” Your husband piped in from behind, placing down a tray of tea and crackers. With some top buttons of his white top left unattended, you glimpsed on his toned chest when he leaned down. But you mustn’t pry whilst working, even when temptation was calling your name repeatedly.
“The summer sunshine healed me of my discomfort, so I think it’s about time I painted again.” You chewed on the snack, looking back and forth to the view. As enchanting as all the flowers you and him planted over the years grew, you’re more amused by a little boy strolling around it with his magnifying glass and tiny wooden basket with his furry puppy by his side.
His tiny legs often troubled the two of you because he enjoyed spending time with nature. Only God knows what he found in the garden this time.
“Adrien est explorer encore. Devrais-je lui dire qu’il change de place, ma chérie?” (Adrien is exploring again. Should I tell him to change places, my darling?) Jaehyun cautiously asked, not wanting his 3 year old son to impair your perspective.
“Non,” (No,) You held on to his hand, kissing it sweetly. Although you peeved any unnecessary details found in your scenery in the past, Adrien was an exception. As his mother, it’s hard to say no to him unless necessary.
“Il est un garçon curieux, alors il devrait explorer et flâner où il veut.” (He’s a curious boy, so he should explore and wander wherever he wants.)
Life ever since you returned to the countryside shifted into something more precious than you imagined. From moving places constantly, you found a home to settle in for good. A home with overflowing love and inspiration. A home within Jeong Jaehyun.
Recently, you halted your work-related activities in Paris and came home because you were heavily homesick. It even affected your health as a whole. So you made adjustments with your schedules, postponing appearances to events to next year.
On the plus side, you could be more active as a mother to Adrien. It felt like you burdened Jaehyun to take care of Adrien most of the time because he mainly worked from home, wherein important people who wanted to meet him would have to fly out to the countryside.
Back and forth to Paris, your presence towards Adrien often lacked. Here came your biggest fear, which was Adrien forgetting you. But Jaehyun told you over and over again that it wasn’t the case. As he listened to every wrenching thought you had, but he’d combat it with heartfelt words of reassurance so you wouldn’t overanalyze things.
He vowed to love and take care of you when times get hard, and he will continue doing so.
Remember when you said how his mansion felt too big?
It no longer did after getting married.
It gave more room to grow and breathe more life into it. When Adrien was born, he was the prime reflection of your and Jaehyun’s love. He mirrored his father’s physical traits but with a daring personality like yours. A perfect mixture, the world worked amazingly to bring a boy like him into your life.
“Maman! Papa!” Adrien bolted to where you and Jaehyun stood. From the clothes he wore, it’s very much clear that his father was in charge of it whilst you slept in the entire morning. Suspenders, capri shorts, a white shirt, and a red beret, he deserved his title as Jaehyun’s mini-me.
Jaehyun swelled with pride and love for his only son, peeking over what he brought to show and tell you both. “Oh Adrien, what do you have for us today?”
In his basket, there were 3 sunflowers stuck out from the edge. It’s been a while since you’ve seen some in full bloom, lowering your stance to get a more vivid view. He took them out to hand them to you and your husband.
One flower for Jaehyun and two for you. You let out a gasp, scrunching your brows to the center. He always gave one of each item to you and Jaehyun, never more or less.
“Ooh, deux fleurs pour Maman. Pourquoi, Rien?” (Ooh, two flowers for Mama. Why, Rien?) Jaehyun let his nickname out for his lips while you grasped his small hand.
“Well, I heard from Olivier next door that on his birthday, he gave extra flowers to his mother so he could have another sibling. And it worked!” He spoke so innocently, yet it hitched a choke from Jaehyun’s chest. Your eyes widened from disbelief. The information he collected due to his curiosity, no boundaries truly.
“Le mois prochain, c’est mon anniversaire. Je me demandais si je peux avoir un frère ou sœur comme Olivier? Tu es toujours occupée, comme Papa. Je ne veux plus être seul, alors je veux une amie aussi.” (It’s my birthday next month, and I was wondering if I can have a sibling like Olivier? You are always busy, like Papa. I don’t want to be alone anymore, so I want a friend too.)
You exchanged looks with Jaehyun, not knowing how exactly to respond. Although you and Jaehyun did agree that you wanted more than one child when you were younger, neither of you brought it up again since your careers were always loaded with plans.
Adrien was a surprise child actually, conceived on the night where you and Jaehyun celebrated after L’Été de 1957 was announced to be the best-selling romance novel of the decade in the country.
In Paris at his family home, where his parents brought out all their prized liquor, the two of you drank the entire night away to the point Krystal and Donghyun had to push you away from each other from your public affections because their children were present.
But it didn’t stop you two once you reached his bedroom, far away from everything and everyone. And you’ll never change it.
“Oh, Rien,” You eased in, consoling him. “Je suis désolé. Mais c’est franchement une grande demande, n'est-ce pas?” (I am sorry. But that’s quite a big request, right?)
“Mom and I will think about it first, okay? Another kid is a big responsibility, and you’ll be their older brother. That’s another important job, can you do it well?”
“Yes, I can, Papa!” He beamed with glee, his covered head patted by his father after. As you placed the sunflowers beside your palette, Adrien then proceeded to ask you if he could paint with you like old times.
Never you refuse especially with his sparkling round eyes and chubby face that makes you want to squish every time.
As you lifted his light body to sit on your lap, you placed your brush between his stubby fingers and carefully aimed in whatever angle seemed fit so the painting process would run smoothly and perfectly. He let out sounds of amazement when the strokes get bigger, jumping slightly too because the picture became more vivid. You’d smile and coo at him, commending whenever he followed instructions well. As his mother, you only encouraged your child in whatever they want to excel in.
Adrien was the child of two artists, so it was only natural that he had an artistic side in his veins.
Too caught up in your fun, hearing the automatic shutter of the camera from your side was delayed. The source was none other than Jaehyun hiding behind his camera. Jaehyun’s heart soared at the heavenly view of the most important people in his life, wanting to treasure the moment as a lovely memory.
“Hey!” You shouted, placing down the messy brush by the palette. “Je suis très laid!” (I am very ugly!)
“Shh! Tu est rayonnant, ma chérie. Papa est juste, Rien?” (Shh! You are glowing, my darling. Papa is right, Rien?)
Jaehyun politely quizzed the peppy boy, nodding excitedly. His dimples deeply showed up, the main trait he claimed from his father.
“Oui, papa! Maman est toujours belle!” (Yes, papa! Mama is always beautiful!)
He exclaimed, pecking your cheek numerously. You squealed, attacking him with tickles and kisses back. His shouts of delight, then he was suddenly carried by your tall husband in the air like he was flying in the sky. Adrien enjoyed that motion highly, ending up on Jaehyun’s shoulders shortly after to play by the garden again.
“Go paint. I’ll take care of him now.” Jaehyun persuaded, roaming through the long rows of flowers in full bloom. Though seconds after adding some strokes to your piece, you let down your hair, put a hat and sandals on, and ran to the cute duo to join them.
And that’s how your family spent the entire afternoon. By the garden, running around and taking photos and short videos from Jaehyun’s camera. Freezing these valuable memories, this was truly the life you loved so much.
After your break, you could convince the company you worked at that you’d prefer fewer trips to Paris and stay in the countryside longer. How badly you’ve wanted to hold your exhibits here instead. Plus like Jaehyun, let influential people visit you. You’ve already made a big name for yourself now, so that should be valid enough.
Dinner time passed by quickly too, eventually putting Adrien to a smooth slumber as you massaged the roots of his soft hair while Jaehyun sang him a lullaby. This was your joint parenting technique with him since he was a newborn, and it worked quickly as lightning.
You redressed into your silk nightgown after bringing your canvas to the master bedroom, opening the balcony doors to invite the cool breeze in. You tweaked some bits of your painting, including a silhouette of your small family. Regarding where to place it, probably by the living room as it matched the theme.
“What a spectacular day, don’t you think, ma chérie?” Jaehyun conversed, admiring the calm movements of your brush. He noticed a quirky smile grace your lips.
“It’s been a long time since we had quality time like that with Rien. He’s a feisty ball of energy these days.” You replied with a nostalgic daze. “It’s so crazy how one day, he was still crawling to us. Now, he could outrun the both of us.”
“Comme le temps passe vite, hmm?” (How time flies fast, hmm?) Nodding, nothing braced for what your husband had in mind. You almost dropped your brush mid-way. Jaehyun’s lips impatiently devoured your neck, his huge hands fondling your breasts. Violently throwing your head back against his chest, a needy moan parted your lips.
“Jae-” His touches reaching south to where you desired him highly, dampening hastily as your legs naturally spread apart. Rushed exhales, “À quoi tu penses maintenant?” (What are you thinking about right now?)
“Rien se sent seul,” (Rien feels alone,) His hot breath whispered against your ear, his fingers dangerously trailing your thin panties up and down. With your hands tightly clutching on his bicep,
“Alors, donnons-lui une amie.” (We should give him a friend.)
Ever since Adrien mentioned such a daring topic, it hasn’t left Jaehyun’s mind the whole day. After seeing you in utter bliss with your son earlier, he found you so majestic and radiant. It’s a different kind of happiness, especially for parents.
Now you went on hiatus, he thought that it was the right time to have another. He enjoyed his younger years with Krystal, and he wanted Adrien to experience it too. 3 years was quite a wait, and it seemed ideal to try again.
From his nude chest, you flipped around to intensely clash his lips with yours. Draping your arms behind his neck, Jaehyun lifted your entire figure from the chair. His hands gripping on your butt, he delicately lowered you down your bed.
Drowning into his sensual kisses with his hands all over you, this could prolong for hours. Reddening love marks started to resurface whilst your fingers tugged on the drawstring of his pajama pants. Jaehyun’s fingers dove under the fabric of your panties, his index finger rubbing figure 8s the sensitive bundle of nerves.
You struggled to swallow your moans, not wanting Rien to hear it. You wouldn’t want to repeat history, covering it as Jaehyun massaging you after a hard day.
“I know you want one too, ma chérie.” His fingers began to drape down the straps of your gown, presenting your breasts in its full, perky view. But before his lips could suck on your erect nipples, you parted momentarily from him and got up on your feet. Pulling up your straps again, Jaehyun simply laid down but he wasn’t pleased from how you left him hanging.
“Où vas-tu, ma chérie?” (Where are you going, sweetheart?)
He was growing impatient. You were never to interrupt such a sexy atmosphere ever.
From one of your drawers in your vanity table, an important, half-opened envelope was hidden. You were supposed to give it tomorrow but now seemed like a perfect time. Reading it as soon one of the maids handed it to you gave you the jitters, but in a positive way. Sitting back down on the edge of your bed, you exhilaratingly passed it to your husband.
“Qu’est-ce que c’est?” (What is this?)
“Ouvre-le.” (Open it.)
Jaehyun slowly opened the edges and once he took out the contents. Reading it thoroughly, he couldn’t believe it as his jaw dropped, pacing from the letter and you back and forth.
“Vraiment, ma chérie?” (Really, my darling?)
It was from a doctor you visited in Paris a few days before you left, who confirmed just exactly what caused your health to go feeble suddenly. You already had one certain suspicion, which you addressed in your leave of absence letter. Amelié, who finally got the position as the head, couldn’t believe her ears and insisted you take all the time off you needed.
“On dirait que Adrien a reçu son cadeau d'anniversaire en avance.” (It looks like Adrien received his birthday gift early.)
Overall, it turned out the headaches and repeated vomiting you mistook as motion sickness from traveling was a surprise hello to your second child.
A girl specifically, thanks to the blood test she recommended.
“Je t’aime, (Y/N).”
“Montre moi combien tu m’aimes, Jaehyun.” (Show me how much you love me, Jaehyun.)
The whole night through, the two of you vigorously celebrated with the moonlight from the windows and a few scented candles set in the room. Wet kisses left on your collarbone, words of devotion exchanged, holding his hand as he groaned from heartily thrusting in you, the number of moans from your lips overlapped with the vinyl playing in the room. The intimacy between you two increased, almost as if you made love for the first time again all those years ago.
Excluding being drenched from the rain.
Once the two of you grew tired, Jaehyun lied down beside you. Wrapping one arm around, one hand trailed down your naked skin again. His wedding band flashed your eyes, reminding you of the commitment you promised each other. For better, and for worse.
Jaehyun promised to love you endlessly as a woman and his wife, and it didn’t cease when you became the mother of his children. He respected how strong you are, physically and mentally. He helped you in any way he could as you endured the struggling process.
At the end of the day, his family was his biggest priority. More than ever now, you needed him as you go through the pregnancy phases again. Specifically, his index finger lingered on your stomach. There was no bump or other signs of showing, except for that glow he complimented you earlier on.
“We met and fell in love over the summer, got married in summer, had Adrien mid-summer, and now found out about our daughter at the start of summer.” He smiled, blessed at all the good he’s received during this time.
“The summer gods must adore us.” Your vacant hand with your wedding band topped his. To love and to cherish. “Ils m'ont amené à toi.” (They brought me to you.)
His power on you was simply addicting, as if your early twenties revisited you. You straddled himself once again, your fingers caressing his face sweetly. When it reached his lips, he placed longing kisses there and pulled you closer again for another kiss on your lips. In between, you mumbled in a silvery tone,
“Then they led us to say I do. Pour toujours et à jamais.”
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copyright © 2021 by alluringjae.
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wri0thesley · 3 years
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May I request some La Squadra childhood headcanons (upbringing/family/habits/demeanor) :)) Maybe Mista and Abbacchio too if it’s not too much trouble since we already saw a bit of baby Bruno and it made me so curious about the other two! I always imagined Abbacchio to be a bit of a teacher’s pet as a kid lol. Your writing brings me life tysm!!!!
warnings for abusive family, human experimentation, misogyny, illness, hospitals, death, etc! 
Risotto’s family did not care much about him. He’s the middle child of five - they grew up in a rural part of Sicily, in a house that used to be a farmhouse but was merely a house by the time Risotto came along (aside from a flock of chickens constantly in the gardens). He had a traditional Italian family full of people - various aunts, uncles and cousins - but his cousin was his favourite, seeing in Risotto’s quiet nature something similar to his own. Risotto was uncomfortable with there being too many people around and found his home life cramped and uncomfortable and loud. At the local village school he was often hunted out for games of sport (his height and muscle growing in at an early age), but he shied away from making friends, not sure how to handle himself around people who shouted and laughed, envying his siblings for everything seeming so natural. He often stayed with the cousin, and it’s through them he discovered metal music and his now signature look. His parents didn’t have time for him, but his cousin always did, becoming a makeshift father figure where Risotto’s failed. He grew very attached, and as we know, his cousins death hit him hard. 
Formaggio grew up with a single father; his mother simply disappeared in the middle of the night and he never heard from her again. He was always loud, brash and cocky - his father was much the same way. They moved around from place to place, his father taking odd jobs to sustain them and never really getting the hang of them. His father was fairly young and a perpetual teenager, and Formaggio was much the same way. Despite living in occasional poverty, he always had a smile and he and his father were close to one another. He did not really make friends - other children were aware of his unwashed clothes, the fact his lunch was not made as neatly as theirs, the fact that his address was a one-bedroom apartment on the bad side of town - so he turned to acting out and violence, gaining a reputation as a Badly Behaved Child. His father fell into Passione in the need to support his son, and like father like son, Formaggio followed in his footsteps at fourteen (finding a camaraderie and sense of responsibility he never had at school and subsequently just stopping going there). 
Illuso got into Passione for the money and the power. He was an only child and he had a nice upbringing, honestly - he just found himself not special at anything, and he desperately wanted to be. He flitted from hobby to hobby and interest to interest; he was clever and he noticed things, and neither of his parents really knew how to deal with their sharp-tongued child. He was a bit of a bully at school, but not the kind that is ever found out - Illuso’s bullying was quieter than that, whispered words and rumours that never seemed to find their way back to him. He was well-acquainted with blackmail before he turned sixteen. He knew how to sniff out weaknesses in other people - he was always surrounded by people, but it was a lottery as to whether they liked Illuso or whether they just didn’t want to be on his wrong side. Always willing to volunteer for things, too confident for his own good - eventually, he stopped caring about being ‘special’ at something, and just worked on being the ‘best around him’. 
Melone’s backstory can be found here. Both of his parents were academics and lecturers in genetic science, and he’s the eldest child by eight years. His family moved around rather a lot. He has two younger sets of twins as siblings; one set of boys, and one set of girls. Growing up, his parents considered him less interesting and a little slow - he turned to science and genetics as a way to get their attention and praise; despite the fact he showed a natural affinity for it, by this time, they were far more interested in experimenting on their younger children and Melone was ignored. His nature is curious and insistent - he learnt to insist or to be ignored. He had to look after his younger siblings a lot growing up; they were home-schooled where he was not, and the strange separation of them and him and all of the children at school (Melone not quite fitting into either group) meant that he always seemed just a little off. 
Prosciutto is a mafia man through and through. His family are entrenched in old bloodlines and uninvestigated deaths - unfortunately, though, they are a family that had somewhat fallen from grace by Prosciutto’s birth. The definition of faded glamour and keeping up appearances; rooms in a big, drafty old house that have an old bed and a falling apart dressing table. His father always talked to him about how it was his and his brothers’ job to keep the bloodline going - a traditional chauvinist of a man. His mother was very quiet and pretty; she encouraged him to small interests like old music and fashion, but was always silent around her husband. He grew up knowing his life was expendable. Youngest son of two; his elder brother died within months of finally being given his assignment within Passione and honestly, Prosciutto knows his father would rather he have died. A quiet little boy who did not make friends (he had a tutor) and had too much of the weight of the world on his shoulders in the knowledge of how many of his mother’s jewels were pasteboard, where the guns were kept, and just how many people he saw regularly were murderers. At his assignment at sixteen, Prosciutto had to learn exactly how to blend in, because many of the mafiosos he was suddenly surrounded by did not appreciate what they saw as his superiority. 
Pesci was an only child of a single mother; his father passed away when he was young. He was rather sickly growing up, and it made his mother indulgent - despite growing up fairly middle class, he never wanted for anything, and they lived well beyond their means. His mother fussed over him, always afraid that he was going to have a relapse into his childhood illness - very much a child wrapped in cotton wool. It gave him his own complex about taking risks; he didn’t want to get hurt. He didn’t want to be rejected by other children. He was slow at his schoolwork but devoted to his mother, and other children saw him as a prime target to bully. He was kicked around a lot at school and it eventually made him too easy to subdue when he suddenly filled out and shot up and became a threat; found himself, too often, a henchman to more articulate, meaner children. Grateful to be accepted, he went along with the flow, despite feeling in the very core of his gut that he was disgusted by them. He ended up in Passione because his mother needed medical treatment and in trying to sort it out realised just how much debt they were in.
Ghiaccio just had a normal run-of-the-mill described as ‘average’ by everyone upbringing - both of his parents, an only child, a mother with a professional job, middle-class. His father was partially deaf - in my experience, people with deaf parents either speak very loudly or very quietly, and Ghiaccio has gone for the former. He learnt LIS at a very early age, and it’s part of the reason he can be so anal about pronunciation and language as a whole - he’s utterly fascinated by it, and that fascination started in early childhood. His parents were also indulgent of him, but having a younger brother meant that he didn’t get the full brunt of that indulgence - his brother was a little more of a ‘rough and tumble’ boy. He liked football and weights, and when he took up a sport Ghiaccio’s parents decided Ghiaccio should learn to do something too and asked him what he thought - they were surprised when he said ice skating, but figured he would go into ice hockey or something. He didn’t. For a while, he was fairly well-known in the competitive figure skating under eighteens circuit. It gave him two things; one, a competitive need to win and be good at things (and a propensity to tantrum when he lost) and two, a taste for flashy, expensive things (have you seen this man’s car). His parents eventually didn’t know how to deal with his arrogance, and he fell into Passione based on a ‘sponsor’ he ended up embroiled with at nineteen when his parents didn’t want to fund his ‘hobby’ anymore (they kept pouring resources into his younger brother, of course - Ghiaccio always felt a bit like they didn’t take him seriously). He left ice skating competitively behind, but he couldn’t leave behind the nice things or the anger issues he accrued. 
I’ve written about Sorbet and Gelato’s childhood/backstory here! But a brief, shorter version:
Gelato had a loving family and a privileged upbringing. Always enough money, always enough to eat - an only child, who perhaps was a little rowdy at school but whomst his parents were very proud of. Both of them were traditional types; thinks a man should be strong, should be the real driving force of all relationships - they were extremely proud of him going into the army. Cleverer than people tend to give him credit for, sharp-eyed, a constant humming need to be doing something with his hands. 
Sorbet was orphaned at a young age in a house fire and taken in by a church orphanage. He’s quiet but equally clever; his cleverness tends to be a little less in your face. He was a comforting presence to other people and took care of the younger boys (even now, he feels a sense of duty to some of La Squadra) - being low-voiced, soothing and commanding. He spent a lot of time reading. The church orphanage was poor; Sorbet has learnt to appreciate luxury where Gelato takes it for granted and it’s part of the reason he’s so concerned with finances even in his forties. 
Abbacchio grew up in a houseful of women. His father left when he was still young; he was . . . not a nice man, and Abbacchio has vague memories of his mother carefully applying concealer over black eyes. It’s part of the reason Abbacchio became a police officer - knowing that he was still out there, not paying for what he’d done . . . Abbacchio wanted to ensure other people did not go through it. He had a little sister (by six years) who adored him, and his grandmother (who had once been an opera singer and still had a touch of that old-time glamour). He was fairly well off; at least, after he and his mother went to live with her mother again. His grandmother was EXTREMELY indulgent of her serious pretty-eyed grandson (his affinity for opera comes from her) who wanted so hard to be a Good Man. He was made fun of as a child for being a teacher’s pet and a nerd, you’re right - he adopted being a goth and dressing like that fairly early in his life. Nobody was going to threaten to punch him in leather and black lipstick, he thought - and nobody, too, needed to know that his CD player was blasting Monteverdi and not heavy metal. 
Mista was the only child of an unreliable mother and a father who left when he was four (he kept very vaguely in touch; Mista has three little sisters who he sees occasionally but keeps quiet about his employ to. After the events of VA, he’s established a fund for each of them, but he wasn’t really permitted to see them much growing up). Even after his parents leaving and his neighbour’s loss of an eye (and the subsequent setting in of his fear of the number four), he was an easy-going child who made friends easily and smiled at all and sundry; he was never particularly book-clever, but he was good-natured and had many friends. His mother’s lack of reliability meant that he became very fond of simple things other people took for granted - when she died, he was sad, but his life did not change much. He’d already learnt to fend for himself when it came to food and the like; often coming home to an empty house and simply making do. (The lack of food in the house is part of the reason he gained such an affinity for things he saw as luxuries like wines and cheeses). He learnt to use his dark eyes and charming smile and warm nature to win sleepovers with schoolfriends and evening meals with their parents. Always a little bit behind his peers in having cool gadgets or interesting stories, Mista was content just to have a simple life and good health. 
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therealvinelle · 3 years
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A note for Nebuchadnezzar’s Dream
Do I feel awful doing this, yes.
Am I still doing it, god yes.
This post contains a series of photos relevant to the upcoming chapter of Nebuchadnezzar’s Dream. I was going to link them in the author’s note, but as these links are all to online stores they’ll be taken down sooner or later. Better to post in image form on tumblr.
Without further ado, click the readmore if you want fashion eyesores.
So, I think I spoil nothing when I say that Jane and Alec are going to have to pass as Cullens in the next chapter. Carlisle, too, is desperately trying to dress like it’s a normal day for normal people who aren’t about to collectively fake their own deaths.
Naturally I asked myself exactly what these poor people are going to wear. One thing led to another, I consulted the fandom ghost, and we put our heads together. Three rules, and three rules only: one, it has to be pale. If it’s beige it’s probably too dark. Two, it has to be high end, but the high end for high end’s sake kind of high end (Jane was almost put in designer fake riding clothes because of this). Three, it has to be Alice.
Apart from that, no rules, no mercy, no God.
In the end we had something words can’t even describe.
Literally.
I can’t describe this with words in the fic. I’ll try, but the only way to properly convey the full awful of what Alec, Jane, and Carlisle have to wear in the upcoming chapter is to show you guys photos.
(Also, yes, I know that for Jane and Alec I used no children’s collections, but the children’s fashion lines I found just weren’t Alice enough. This jacket, for instance (not putting photo, but it’s a vintage rose pink, white collar quilted barbour jacket for girls) would make Jane set herself on fire but it doesn’t have that quintessentially Cullen something.)
Alec
Jacket: Dior raincoat, beige color.
Picture 12-year-old Alec in this, in public, and tell me he doesn’t wish those humans in 800 AD finished the job.
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Sweater: V-necked Ralph Lauren polo sweater, cream color.
I’m sure the poor boy is using his gift on himself to numb the sartorial agony of wearing this.
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Trousers: Prada technical wide-leg pants.
Nevermind faking his death, this kid wants to die for real so long as he’s sporting these.
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Shoes: Salvatore Ferragamo desert boot, suede walnut.
As of these shoes, Alec’s sporting the brightest pop of color in the crew. Good on you, Alec, except not good on you because you’re wearing these shoes.
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Jane
Jacket: Barbour Elizabeth quilted jacket, cream color.
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Sweater: Tommy Hillfiger ivory turtleneck.
This is starting to feel like child abuse. Tucked into the skirt, of course.
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Skirt: Saks Fifth Avenue Donna Karan skirt with a belt.
Of course it’s a khaki skirt. Sorry, Jane.
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Shoes: Tory charm two-tone loafers.
I was gonna go for tory burch, but these bad boys felt like they were created solely to hurt fictional child vampires.
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Accessories:
1: Chanel headband.
Look at those sly C’s forming a pattern, just in case you were worried people wouldn’t realize your child’s headband was in fact stupidly expensive designer. Can be yours for the small price of $600!
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2: Louis Vuitton hobo dauphine.
We were done, but I thought I could hurt her just a bit more. Landed on this.
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Carlisle
Coat: Hugo Boss beige trench coat with belt.
Chosen in part because the model’s face is how I too would feel wearing that.
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Sweater: Oversized Tommy Hillfiger ivory turtleneck.
In a desperate attempt to look Related™ to Jane, he wears a matching sweater to hers. Also, sorry I couldn’t find a better link. But hey, model’s got that pretending he’s not dead inside look on his face like the camera team taking this photo, the designers who created the sweater, the agent who got him this gig, he’s never forgiving any of them.
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Trousers: White Tom Ford brushed straight-leg trousers.
One of my kidneys shrivelled up and died when the ghost sent me this. Hoping I never see anybody wear it in life because that could very well spell my end.
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Shoes: Bruno Culcinelli chelsea boots, suede sand.
Good news is this is the last one, bad news is your eyes are seeing this.
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Funny how none of these people are real, yet I feel like I owe them all an apology.
If you can think of something even more awful I want to hear it. Drop it in the notes, and if your suggestion makes me want to kill someone then in the chapter it goes.
As for when the next chapter comes out, since I just dropped a massive teaser I’ll try to have it out as soon as possible. Within a week or so, but let’s shoot for the end of the weekend.
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cafedanslanuit · 3 years
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♡   f l u f f v e m b e r   2 0 2 0   ♡ 
♡  week one  —  kageyama tobio   |   long-distance relationship
♡  summary  —   getting into a relationship with kageyama was close to impossible, that you knew. nevertheless, that didn’t stop you from developing feelings for him and eventually becoming more than friends. he was constantly training and didn’t have a lot of time to spend by your side, but once kageyama found himself remembering your laugh on his way home, he decided to do whatever it took to make the relationship work.
♡  playlist
the moon song   -   beabadoobee & oscar lang home   -   bruno major blueberry eyes   -   max & suga
♡  masterlist  ♡
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Every morning, Kageyama wakes up at the same hour. He puts on his running shoes, grabs his phone, keys and earphones and hits the streets. It’s been his routine since he started playing volleyball. While he ran, Kageyama preferred to keep his mind focused in his steps, the weight he was putting on his heels and toes, his heart rhythm and his mind replaying the sets he had done the day before. He didn’t see running as something he did before he trained, but as part of the training itself. Kageyama was very adamant against listening to music or a podcast during his morning runs. 
Everything changed after he met you.
Kageyama puts on his earphones and goes through his mail inbox. Like most days, he sees your name on his most recent unopened email. He downloads the audio attachment and presses play before shoving his phone back to his pocket.
“Good morning Tobio!”
His lip twitches upward.
“So, you must be sleeping right now. Which sucks! Because I just got home from work. Yes, I got safe, don’t worry. Mika and her boyfriend dropped me at my place right now. Remember Mika, my coworker? Yeah. Hey boyfriend always picks her up when we have shifts until one in the morning and they drive me home. I’m kind of tired right now.”
Kageyama hears a long yawn on your side, followed by a thud that he imagines it’s you laying on your bed.
“Let me put on some music,” you say, and a few seconds later he listens to a tune he thinks he’s heard before. “Today’s classes were just okay. I got a grade back but it wasn’t what I expected.”
“But, what can you do?” Kageyama mouths along with your voice.
“Work was also okay. Mika and I spent most of the night talking, she had had a small fight with her boyfriend and asked me for advice. It wasn’t really a big thing, you see…”
The next few minutes, Kageyama listens to you ramble about your friend and her boyfriend, but he has to admit he is paying more attention to your voice than what you were saying. He imagines himself watching you talk and the expressions he had seen you make the first time he had seen you. The tip of your tongue sticking out between your teeth after you laughed at something you shouldn’t have laughed about, the slight pout on your lips as you talked about something you didn’t like or the attentive way your eyes fixated on him while he talked about volleyball.
“Anyway, I know you don’t really care about this,” you say. “But it’s really nice to imagine you listening to me talk during your morning runs. Is it already cold there? I hope you put something on if it is. Not trying to tell you what to do. I know you, more than anyone, take your health very seriously, but I guess I can’t help but worry,” you chuckle. You stay quiet for a moment, and Kageyama basks in the comfort your silence provides.
His mind goes back to those Sunday nights when he’s watching past games on his laptop while he’s face timing with you. You are usually taking a cup of coffee, trying to forget you’ve only slept five hours after getting home from your shift at the bar. You know he has to get to bed in a couple of hours so he can get enough rest for this Monday practice, so you treasure those small moments when the time difference and both your busy schedules let you share a moment. Kageyama’s eyes are fixated on his laptop and you take the opportunity to revise some of your lessons, most of the time finding out there was a paper due next week you had forgotten about.
Every once in a while you take a look at your phone and see Kageyama’s dark eyes glued to his laptop. You bury your nose on the Schweiden Adlers hoodie he sent you last month and even if your boyfriend’s smell has almost completely worn off, you still find comfort in wearing his clothes.
When Kageyama comes back to his house to get ready for training, your voice is no longer in his ears. You always made sure not to surpass the usual time he spends running. He takes a look at the dual clock on his phone and realizes you must be still in class, so he refrains from sending a text and hops on the shower.
The fourteen hour difference between the both of you had seemed like a wall impossible to climb. Not only that but his intense training schedule plus your uni classes and your part time job also took most of your energy and it was a rare occurrence that you could sit in front of a computer at the same time.
But the connection was something he had never experienced before. He had been invited to a foreign university overseas for a tournament. The day before it started, the team had gone to the campus to get to know the facilities, and after they were done, Kageyama had left them to buy something to drink from a vending machine. Not being able to find any, he asked for directions and took the elevator to the cafeteria, not noticing someone carrying a couple of books under their arms standing next to him.
Now it seemed almost fate to remember how the elevator malfunctioned and he had to spend the next two hours with you. After pressing the Emergency button and being told it would be a while, you introduced yourself with a smile. He wasn’t really enthusiastic about getting to know each other but it all changed after he mentioned he was there because of a volleyball tournament. Kageyama can still remember your eyes widening and the questions that followed, all centered about his true passion. A few minutes later, you were sitting on the floor of the elevator, while he explained in broken English every position in volleyball and what they were supposed to do. Even though you hadn’t played any sports seriously outside of school, the fact this guy was talented enough to get invited overseas to play had spiked your attention, and you asked question after question so you could understand more about volleyball.
“So the setter is basically the key player, right?” you had asked, while he scribbled on the notebook you had lent him so he could explain.
Kageyama tried not to smile. He really did.
After you asked him about the tournament schedule and wrote down the name of his team, you promised you would do your best to make it to the game. Kageyama had never really cared about people coming to his games to watch but, once he had won the first game as was leaving the court, his eyes unexpectedly met yours and he saw you waving at him for the bleachers with a smile. He nodded at you and as he disappeared through the gym door he thought maybe someone going to see his games wasn’t so bad.
One week later, Kageyama’s team had won the tournament, and since you had asked for his number while waiting inside the elevator, you offered to buy him something from the cafeteria after the final match. This time, he took the time to listen to you ramble about your career, and how enthusiastic you were about it. He didn’t understand most of the things you talked about, most of your words sounding foreign and new to him. But the one detail he did recognize at first glance was the way your pupils dilated while you spoke. Your hands moved faster than usual as you tried to explain, and you even used the salt shaker on the table as a prop to help you out. The glimmer in your eyes was the same nature as the burn he used to feel in his chest whenever he talked about volleyball. You promised to stay in contact and gave him a small but tight hug when it was his time to leave. He hoped you didn’t notice the pink tint on his cheeks before you went away.
Your love confession came two months after he was back in Japan, followed by the longest and hardest conversation the two of you had ever had. He explained his strict training schedule and you talked about your university increasing the hardness of the classes you took and how little time you had left. A long silence filled the room, and you realized maybe you should have kept the confession to yourself. It was never going to work. There were too many impediments so maybe it would have been better to push down whatever you felt. In the end, you two weren’t supposed to meet and--
“I’d like to try it.”
You can still remember the blush on his cheeks and furrowed eyebrows after blurting out those words. You smiled brightly at him and nodded, enthusiastically.
“I’d like to try too.”
It had been one year and six months since then. To find someone who not only understood his crazy schedule but was passionate about their own work felt surreal to Kageyama. Your plan was to finish your career in your home country and then move to Japan. You had been auditing the Japanese classes at your uni and taking a part time job to be able to support yourself as you settled in a new country. All of those changes meant less time to be able to talk with Kageyama as much as you did before. He assured you he understood, even if he would never admit out loud he missed you as well.
The situation prompted you to find other ways to feel close to him, hence why Kageyama woke up almost every day with a new audio file from you. You went from talking about your day to making him listen to music and even took the chance to practice your japanese. His English listening skills had also gotten better in the past year, all thanks to talking with you and how you would slow down your pace and repeat yourself if he ever needed to. While you recorded your audios after work, he usually recorded his after practice while he walked home from practice. Even if he was always a little worried about the length, you always made sure to send him messages about how happy you were to hear his voice while you ate your lunch or walked to your job after your classes.
Kageyama finishes his shower and comes back to his room. He gets ready in less than ten minutes in silence, knowing he doesn’t have any time to spare if he wants to get to the practice in time. Winter break is a month away, and he wants to give his best before he’s forced to step away for a couple of weeks. He has never liked holidays stepping in his routine, but he knows there was nothing he could do but endure and wait for his training to resume.
Before he leaves, Kageyama checks his phone again and opens the newest email.
Congratulations! Your flight booking is confirmed.
Okay, maybe he is looking forward to winter break after all.
207 notes · View notes
bbugyu · 4 years
Note
hi can i request a wonwoo friends to lovers!!
abso-fuckin-tutely! since you were a lil vague, i asked my friendly neighborhood wonwoorideul for a prompt and she shouted out the song nothing by bruno major (aka one of the sweetest songs on wonwoo's spotify playlist)!
nothing + jeon wonwoo
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moving in with your best friend was the best idea you ever had, even if he claimed it was his.
wc.3707 | fluff, angst, roommates/friends to lovers au, gn reader, like one swear and it barely counts bc it was hoshi, slowburn pining, wonwoo sees you and his mind is full of poetry, happy ending! (jp ver.)
thank you so much for my very first request! i tried to post this quickly, so i’m sorry if it’s not as polished as my other pieces. i was so impatient to get this out hahah. i love me some domestic wonwoo
*
wonwoo wasn't just your roommate, to be perfectly frank. the lanky guy had wormed his way into your close circle when you had worked part time together at a grocery store fresh out of high school, and when you both decided you needed to be closer to the big city, it just made sense to go together. you had never lived alone before, and your mother had said she would feel better if you had someone she knew around, someone to take care of you for her, even though you insisted you would be fine. she tried to get you to move in with your auntie, and while eating her food would be a definite plus, you absolutely despised the idea of living under the same roof as your chaotic cousin. so, when wonwoo mentioned wanting to get out of your podunk village, you excitedly told him you wanted to move to seoul.
"okay," he had said, looking at you over his comic book as he lounged on your family's couch. "let's go, then."
two months later, his dad was helping the two of you move into a tiny two bedroom apartment in a neighborhood of seoul that housed mostly old married couples, but you liked that it was a little more quiet than downtown. it felt more like home, but busy enough to give you your fill of the city. you could walk down the street to a cafe every morning on your way to the station, headed to your shitty temp desk job that you had just to pay bills. wonwoo was able to transfer to the main seoul office of his existing job as a software engineer, and was even able to work from home most days. you were forever jealous that he could hop onto remote meetings wearing a tie and button up over a pair of sweats. on days that he had to go into the office, though, he would walk with you and point out shops that you had yet to visit in your few months of living in the city.
"since when are you a flowers kinda guy?" you asked, gaze following his finger to the florist shop he pointed out.
he shrugged, adjusting his backpack straps over the blazer he wore. "might be nice for the apartment."
you eyed him. despite knowing him for years, sometimes he still surprised you.
on days that he didn't ride the subway with you, you would come home to find him sitting on the couch, swinging around a digital new york city from a web on the tv. you noticed the potted plant on the kitchen counter when you dropped your keys off in their designated tray. they were red, with tight round petals. you thought they almost looked like roses, but you knew that wasn't right. peonies? begonias? you didn't know enough about flowers to recognize them, but you figured he went to the florist in your neighborhood while you were at work.
he paused his game after landing on a roof somewhere. "how was your day?"
"good," you said, pulling off your light jacket and standing by the couch. "what's with the flowers?"
wonwoo looked around you to the yellow ceramic and red blooms, both colors that suited the other few colorful items in your minimalistic (mostly from having only lived there a few short months) white kitchen. "camellias. i thought they looked nice."
you nodded, thinking that he had more to say, but decided not to press. "have you eaten?"
he stretched on the couch, hands falling to the back of his beanie clad head as he let out a strangled noise. "do i ever eat without you?"
that made you smile. "any thoughts on dinner?"
wonwoo shook his head, settling back into the couch. "what do you feel like?"
"i'm craving pizza."
wonwoo pushed his glasses up his nose and adjusted to fish his phone out of the pocket of his favorite track pants. "go take a shower, i'll order."
you grinned. "you are such a good roommate."
"correction, i'm the best roommate. oh, also," he pointed towards the fridge in the kitchen. "soonyoung came by with side dishes from your aunt."
"oh, thank god," you said, walking over to wash your hands quickly and check the haul. "i was worried we were gonna have to buy kimchi this week. he wasn't annoying, was he?"
wonwoo shook his head, chuckling at the way you talked about your cousin as he tapped through menus on his phone. "he was fine. complained that you weren't here."
"doesn't he have a job?" you opened a plastic container and popped a sweet braised potato into your mouth. your voice was muffled as you chewed. "he knows i get off at five. if he wants to see me he should come when he knows i'll be home."
the small smile on wonwoo's face never left as you rambled about soonyoung, then your fantastic chef of an aunt, and then the new guy that sat at the desk next to you that microwaved fish for lunch. seriously, who microwaves fish? in an office?
wonwoo commiserated with you, then told you to hurry and go wash up, because he had just submitted the pizza order, to which you responded "okay, okay, i'm going. i'll be back in a minute."
after a steam filled shower, you left the bathroom while toweling your damp hair, sporting a plain black v-neck with your, similar to wonwoo's, favorite track pants.
wonwoo looked up and laughed, tugging on the hem of his shirt. "we match."
you eyed one of the several black muscle tanks wonwoo sports regularly and giggled, pulling at the stripes down your pants. "we do. you want wine?"
"hell yeah. friday night, baby."
you laughed, returning to the bathroom to hang your towel before making your way to the kitchen, pulling a couple of stemless wine glasses out of your cabinet. they were the only glasses in the apartment because, as wonwoo had said, your priorities are notoriously bad. but, you reminded him, they worked just fine with water too, so you convinced him that buying real glasses could wait until you were both slightly less busy. you grabbed the bottle of red wine off the counter and looked at the seal. "wonwoo."
"yeah?" he paused his game and looked at you over the small kitchen cart that acted as an island. you held up the wine.
"new bottle."
he sighed dramatically. "what would you do without me?"
you grinned happily as you got the wine opener out of a drawer, holding it out for him. he snatched the bottle and opener from your hands and made a face, but began twisting the corkscrew into the cork nonetheless. you planted your elbow on the wood topped cart and watched him as he tugged out the cork, decidedly ignoring the fact that he was wearing a sleeveless shirt and he definitely looked like he had taken a trip to the gym today. 
"you pour, i always miss."
you laughed, pulling at the shrapnel of the seal that wonwoo always refused to cut away before removing the cork. "maybe if you didn't make the neck such a mess it wouldn't go everywhere when we pour it."
"unnecessary step," he retorted, watching you as you poured the wine into the two glasses. he took the one closest to him as you finished. "cheers."
"cheers," you repeated, clinking your glass against his and taking a gulp. you let out a noise of approval. "happy friday."
wonwoo was smiling as he took a sip. "happy friday."
"where's the pizza?"
"uh," he patted his empty pockets, then put down his wine glass to retrieve his phone from the couch. "down the street."
wonwoo had to shove his feet into a pair of slides to meet the delivery person at the entrance of your building, and when he returned, you were giggling into your glass at your sns feed. the wine hit maybe a little too hard, but you hadn't eaten in too long for you to have almost polished off a glass already.
wonwoo gestured for you to join him on the couch, so you grabbed the bottle of wine and tucked it under your arm, carrying the two glasses over to where he was shutting off his game.
you ate merrily, and then you talked. about nothing and everything all at the same time. this happened more often than you ever thought it would, but a week into living in the city, wonwoo had come home from hanging out with some old friends to you crying on the couch with a show on that was far too comical to be the source of your tears. that night, he stayed up with you until the sun was peeking up over the buildings, listening to your worries and struggles. he shared his own fears. you were a blubbering mess. he kept sniffling his nose, acting like the tears welling up in his eyes weren't there when you laughed, despite yourself. wonwoo and you had always been close, or as close as past coworkers that had the same friend circle could be, but this was different. you couldn't remember the last time you had cried like that in front of anyone, much less someone who wasn't your mother.
when you woke up on the couch past noon, your sunday to a late start, your arms were wrapped around wonwoo's torso as he slept, one hand tucked behind his head and the other on your back. his face was inches from yours. your cheeks were pink and you suddenly felt hot, trying as gently as you could to escape without waking him. he stirred, but only to readjust as you snuck away.
he said nothing about the cuddling when he woke to the sound of you closing the front door, and you smiled as you held out the iced americano you got him at the cafe down the street. he squinted at you and scratched his head, taking the drink and sipping it before even testing his voice.
"thanks."
he looked at you, eyebrows furrowed. "what? you bought coffee. thank you."
you sat next to him and swirling the straw in your own drink. "no, i mean for staying up with me. sorry i was a mess."
there was a pause, and your heart almost stopped when he put an arm over your shoulder. "you weren't. and i'll stay up with you whenever you want."
wonwoo sipped at his drink again, giving you a light squeeze when a tear fell down your cheek.
living together meant you saw a side of him you had never seen before. the little things he did throughout his day, when he wasn't even particularly conscious that you were in the same room as him. he always bit at his thumb when he was working, and he had a habit of leaving the milk carton open in the fridge. he always made you smile when he emerged from his room with his headphones loud enough for you to hear them from across the room, and he cluelessly bobbed his head to whatever he was listening to while he refilled a water bottle, waving and smiling before he returned to his room. when your mom asked you how living with wonwoo was, you told her he was great. clean, respectful, and quiet. that you had never been closer. that he made you feel safer so far from home. you didn't, however, tell her that you discovered that he liked running home from the gym at 2 pm on the weekends, laying out on the floor with his shirt over his head before he convinced himself to take a shower.
you had always thought wonwoo was cute. how could you not? he was a handsome guy, but you had accepted your place as a friend to him and happily let it progress no further. but, now that you spent your afternoons off arguing with him on whether or not showering was even worth the trouble, you couldn't help but stare at him. watching his toned chest rise and fall as you thought about how he had admitted his crippling fear of failure to you at three in the morning when your face was puffier than a padded jacket.
you never noticed, but wonwoo watched you closer than he did anything in his life. that night, when he found you crying, he felt his heart clench as you told him all your insecurities. when he had pulled you into his chest and held you tight as you questioned whether moving so far from home was a mistake, he patted your hair and told you that it was going to be fine. you had him, afterall. he had you. the two of you could make it out here. and if you still wanted to go home when the lease was up in six months, he would be there to help you move back.
he didn't stop holding you until your breathing settled, your shoulders stopped shaking. he leaned back into the couch, bringing you with him, and you didn't protest when he ran his hand up and down your back, coaxing you to sleep.
since then, every time you spoke to him, he couldn't help but stare at you intently. he watched your eyes light up while you talked about something you loved. he watched you scrunch your nose as you talked about your new desk neighbor. he watched your lips push into a pout when he said he should go get some work done. he wondered if anyone else noticed the way you sucked on your teeth while you thought up a witty comeback, or the way you carded your fingers through your still wet hair. or the way your eyes creased into a laugh, your hand coming up to block your open mouth. or the way you chewed on your red wine stained lip while he tried to form a sentence in response, when all he wanted to do was put those lips on his.
wonwoo had been stewing with these feelings far longer than he thought bearable, but stuffed it down in fear that he might lose you altogether. he didn't want to lose you altogether. he had gone on a walk halfway through his workday at home, feeling antsy for no particular reason, though if he thought about it long enough he would have realised it was because you had said something about feeling lonely lately that morning. he saw the florist he had pointed out the week before, and his feet brought him through the door.
"hi!" he looked up from the colorful display by the door to the person behind the counter and smiled politely. "did you need help finding something?"
"um," wonwoo blinked and looked around for a moment, then moved towards the counter. "i need a gift, i think."
the florist's eyebrows quirked curiously. "you think?"
he nodded, eyes flicking down to the nametag on his chest. he wondered if he was a foreigner with his three character name, but didn't mention it. "yeah. housewarming. for my, uh-" wonwoo paused, catching himself not knowing how to describe his relationship to you. roommate? wannabe lover? he bit his cheek. "my friend."
joshua nodded slowly, watching wonwoo's eyes as he worked his way through the sentence. "just friend?"
wonwoo stared at a flower arrangement to his right. "something like that."
"got it." joshua walked around the counter and gestured for wonwoo to follow him deeper into the store. "since it's a housewarming, how about a potted plant? something to brighten up the space for a long time. they'll think about you every time they see it."
wonwoo nodded, not saying anything about how funny he thought it was that he said he was getting his own roommate a housewarming gift. "that sounds nice."
"now, i'm not gonna claim to know you," the florist started, putting up his hands to exaggerate his words, they kept moving as he pushed and pulled pots, looking for one in particular. "you've said, like, maybe a full sentence to me, but those were some complex emotions when you called them a friend, so i'm gonna assume i know the situation. i think you should get camellias. specifically red ones."
wonwoo looked at the sunshine yellow pot in the soft featured man's hands. the petals of the flower were round and delicate, and he thought about how you said the color yellow made you happy. "why's that?"
"i think you should look up the meaning when you give them this," joshua said, and for some reason, wonwoo trusted him.
he came back to the apartment thinking about how he might have just gotten scammed into buying the potted flowers in his hands, only to find soonyoung about to hit the buzzer to call your unit, a far too large cooler bag sitting on the bench by the entrance of your building.
"is y/n around?" soonyoung asked, trailing behind wonwoo as they walked up the stairs, struggling slightly with the overpacked bag. "they didn't respond to my kakao."
"they're at work," he replied, flipping his keys over in his hands to find the one for your front door. "they'll be home around six."
"ah, shit," soonyoung laughed. "i always forget you guys have adult jobs. i would kill for a monday through friday."
wonwoo almost laughed, but left the smile on his face. "weekends are kind of overrated, anyways."
the shorter hoisted the bag of dishes onto the kitchen cart while wonwoo closed the door. "who're the flowers for?"
wonwoo stared at the pot in his arm as if it was the first time he had seen it. "oh, uh. just the place."
"for y/n?"
he looked at soonyoung, who had his chin in his palms, elbows planted on the counter as he smiled. he knew he was right when wonwoo didn't respond.
"i think they'll like them," he said, unzipping the top of the bag and starting to unload his mother's packaged dishes for his cousin. "they like the color yellow."
wonwoo just said "i know," before he opened the fridge and started rearranging things to fit the new food.
according to soonyoung, wonwoo was painfully obvious. when he had come by a couple weeks prior, you were arguing with him about some ridiculous childhood memory at your grandparents' home, and while soonyoung laughed, he noticed the smile on wonwoo's face when he watched you. he also noticed the way he instinctively put a hand on your back when you sighed about your newest temp gig, and soonyoung pulled on his ear as he looked at the ceiling, leaning against the kitchen cart much like he was today as he told wonwoo about how oblivious his cousin must be.
you pulled your knees to your chest as you sipped at your wine, the pizza box almost completely polished off by the two of you sitting on the floor in front of your couch. you stare at the pot of flowers.
"they're pretty," you said finally.
you too, wonwoo thought.
"camellias, right?" you turned back to him. "i like them."
i like you, wonwoo thought. "i went to that place down the street. the guy working was nice."
you nodded, sipping again. "any reason in particular?"
"i-" wonwoo paused, staring at his glass. he finished the last gulp in it and put it on the floor next to the pizza box. "you said something about being down recently," he said, folding his fingers together as he leaned back against the couch. "i wanted to get you something, i guess."
you watched his fingers as they pushed his glasses up his nose again, and your heart fluttered at the idea of wonwoo thinking about you when you weren't around. "really? that's so nice," you pouted, shoving his knee.
he laughed, pulling his knee onto the couch to face you. "the guy there - the florist, i guess? his name was joshua. he seemed to really know flowers." he knitted his brows together when he realized he was procrastinating on saying what he was nervous to. he put his arm on the back of the couch, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm before continuing. "he said i should look up what they mean when i give them to you. red ones, specifically."
you perked up, heart racing. "what they mean? they have meaning?"
"y-yeah, i guess so," wonwoo said, then cleared his throat. 
"hey google!" you looked over to where the device sat by your tv. "what to red camellias mean?"
wonwoo stared at your profile as you watched the device think before its automated voice piped up.
"camellia flowers are available in white, pink, and red, with each color having its own unique symbolism."
you looked over to him, excitedly putting your glass to your lips as the voice continued.
"pink camellias symbolize a longing for someone, and is given to people who are missed."
wonwoo swallowed hard, fingers fidgeting against his temple.
"red camellias symbolize love, passion, and a deep desire."
your eyes widened slightly as the device shut off, glass still to your lips and eyes still on wonwoo's. he stared back at you, and you wondered if he meant it. but he never claimed that he didn't feel those things for you.
before you could think, you clumsily put your glass on the floor and moved. you didn't stop moving until your lips were on wonwoo's, pushing him back into the arm of the couch as you practically crawled into his lap.
his hands found your hips and he helped you settle into him, your fingers tracing his jawline as it worked against yours. you sighed into his lips as his hand slid up under your shirt, placed gently on the small of your back. pulling you into him. when you paused for a moment, you thought about waking up to this exact same view, that day after you had cried all night. but this time, his other hand pulled your jaw back to kiss him again, and you happily complied.
417 notes · View notes
nct-jihee · 3 years
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Jihee (NCT) Profile: Jihee Facts and Ideal Type
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Name: Jihee (지희)
Birth Name: Um Jihee (엄지희)
Position: Main Dancer, Main Vocalist
Birthday: May 28, 1997
Zodiac Sign: Gemini
Birthplace: Incheon, South Korea
Height: 165 cm (5’4″)
Weight: 45 kg (99 lbs)
Blood Type: O
MBTI Type: ENFP
Jihee Facts:
—She was born in Incheon, South Korea.
—Education: Hanlim Multi Art School.
—Jihee has an older brother.
—Her nicknames are: JiJi (by the fandom) and her members call her different things.
—Jihee lived in Manchester, England for about 3 years (from when she was 4 till 7 years old).
—Fluent in English.
—Her father gave her "June" as her English name because her teachers and some friends couldn't pronounce "Jihee".
—Currently she has three tattoos.
—She loves sports: football soccer, swimming, volleyball, and archery.
—Jihee has a little nephew and she claims to be the best aunt.
—Jihee admits that she didn't like school at all, but is good at Chemistry and Maths.
—Since she was young she was a bit hyperactive and was easily distracted. She is still like that sometimes, but in a lesser amount.
—She plays guitar and bass.
—Can be really sensitive.
—When Jihee is stressed, she cries.
—She's really messy.
—Jihee doesn't like sasaengs and antis — absolutely hates them.
—Loves to use sarcasm but please never use it on her.
—Wanted to study Criminology.
—She was scouted by JYP Entertainment and Cube Entertainment.
—Jihee has been learning Japanese for years now because she wants to talk with Yuta all the time (Weekly Idol Ep. 347).
—Jihee ranked 12th in the "Top 100 Beautiful Faces Of 2018"
—Jihee ranked 4th in the "Top 100 Beautiful Faces Of 2019"
—She's been in love with singing and acting since she was young.
—Jihee participated in musicals a lot when she was in school.
—She's a good liar and always wins mafia game.
—Her sleeping habit: hugging a pillow.
—Lives in the 5th floor and her roommate is Taeyong.
—She didn't lived with her members at the beginning, she shared apartment with one of her managers: Yeonsoo unnie.
—Jihee loves all her members equally, but there's something about Taeil, Taeyong and Yuta that makes her heart feel warm.
—Her favorite animals are dogs and butterflies.
—Her role model is her mother.
—She's not sure what her hobbies are, she likes a lot of things: writing poetry, reading books, painting, swimming, etc.
—Likes cooking but won't like it if the guys force her to cook.
—Enjoys spicy food.
—Hates seafood.
—Favorite food: Meat and Pasta.
—Favorite fruit: Watermelon.
—Favorite season is Winter.
—Favorite color: Yellow and Blue.
—Favorite artist: Alicia Keys and Adele.
—She auditioned with the song: "Talking To The Moon" by Bruno Mars.
—She wasn't a good dancer when she first joined SM, but with effort and dedication she became one of the best dancers in the entertainment and industry.
—On December 9, 2013 she was revealed as a member of SMRookies.
—The same day, SM released a video of Jihee showing her dancing skills with "Upgrade U" by Beyoncé and Jay Z.
—Jihee appeared in Red Velvet’s MV Happiness (2014) at the very beginning.
—She debuted with NCT U first in 2016 and debuted again with NCT 127 in 2017.
—Although Jihee was loved as a member of SMRookies, when she debuted with NCT U she got a lot of hate.
—She says: "I think that helped me, somehow. Cause that made me work harder and, well, here I am." (Vlive, 2019).
—After her debut with NCT U in 2016, for the rest of that year she prepared for her acting debut.
—According to Red Velvet's Wendy: Jihee was the best actress among all the trainees and teachers would always complimented her.
—In 2017 she made her debut as an actress in the drama While You Were Sleeping.
—It was a small rol, but she was well received.
—Red Velvet members said that they all thought that Jihee was going to debut with them, so when they found out that she was actually going to debut in a coed group they were really sad.
—Oldest members of SMRookies, and future members of NCT, were aware of their concept: a coed group. So they knew that a girl would join them, they just didn't know who.
—Jihee likes rapping and she's quite good, so in 2019 SM Entertainment decided to make her a sub rapper.
—Taeyong says she's a totally different person when she is on-stage.
—Haechan genuinely thinks she's the mom of the group, even if she hates to be called that.
—Jihee takes care of the younger members, but it's clear who her favorite is: Renjun.
—Since her debut she has only dyed her hair four times: blonde, pink, red and blue.
—Her natural hair color is dark brown.
—She tries to not have skinship with her members in front of cameras because she wants to avoid any kind of bad comments, although they sometimes hug her or give her kisses on the cheek.
—However, with her best friends and coworkers (cast mates) she doesn't care and hugs them all the time because fans can't and don't have to say anything about it.
—She doesn't like drinking.
—Johnny thinks Jihee is the definition of Social Butterfly.
—Jihee wrote and participated in Hotel del Luna OST - Can You See My Heart.
—She did a duet with SHINee's Key for his album FACE with the song 'Forever Yours'
—Jihee was also featured in EXO-SC '1 Billion Views'
—On November 1st, 2019, SM gave her permission to create her instagram account because she was starting to get recognized as an actress from the drama Extraordinary You, however at that time she was only posting things related to the drama.
—She's really close with TWICE's Sana and Red Velvet's Joy.
—She's in a group chat with female idols from 97 line.
—F(x)'s Krystal, SNSD's Jessica and Tifanny, and Super Junior's Henry used to take care of her when she was a trainee.
—Like Haechan, she is good at Variety Shows.
—Jihee was an MC for Inkigayo with SEVENTEEN's Mingyu.
—In 2019, she was in Law Of The Jungle Ep. 368–372 with Red Velvet's Yeri and iKON's B. I.
—NCT U Line-ups she was apart of: The 7th Sense, Timeless, Boss, Coming Home, and Make a Wish.
—Sub-Unit: NCT U, NCT 127
—Jihee's Ideal Type: Someone who can communicate well with her. Someone kind, funny, and respectful. A family guy. A few years older than her, she wouldn't date someone younger. Jihee wants to be friends first.
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chocojjk · 4 years
Text
Hyunjin’s Playlist
summary: college student! hyunjin x college! student reader; strangers to lovers?
words: 5.2k
a/n: Hi, I meant to upload this a lot earlier however I was met with tons of writers block along the way. I wrote this without having an actual plot prepared lmao. But anyways, its done so I hope someone enjoys reading this :)
all songs used are songs that hyunjin has played on vlive but please keep in mind that the way the songs are portrayed are based off of my own interpretations. i am in no way speaking for hyunjin :) 
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one.
we are often attracted to instruments that mirror our own identity. we find comfort in knowing that we aren’t alone, that somewhere out there, someone is feeling the same exact way. they say a person can tell a lot about another based on their playlist. songs become a portrayal of one’s feelings and experiences. through someone’s music, you can tell what kind of person they are.
“Let me see your playlist.”
“What?” the boy responded, curious as to why you chose that as your conversation starter. nonetheless, he unlocks his phone and opens his spotify app, showing you the songs that have definitely left a mark on his heart. 
Places We Won’t Walk - Bruno Major 
A blissful song with a hint of sadness. The boy in front of you treasures the small things in life, yet is saddened by the things that he cannot reach. 
When The Party’s Over - Billie Eilish 
He’s put up a wall. He’s not easily understood. He’s aware that he can hurt others so he has made himself believe that he’d rather be alone. That he’s better off alone. 
Instagram - Dean
He’s lonely. He often compares himself to those around him, wondering why he isn’t living the same luxurious life with all the same cheerful smiles that he sees on his feed. 
Please Love Me - Colde
He wants to be loved. “I like you,” you smiled, handing him back his phone, taking the seat next to him. 
-
“The weirdest thing happened to me today.”
Hyunjin started telling his friends about the girl he encountered on his first day of university. It’s been hours since it happened yet he couldn’t shake it out of his head.
“That’s it? She just asked to see your playlist?” Jisung exclaims, one eyebrow going up and a pout making its way on his face as he wore the same confused expression Hyunjin sported earlier that day. Hyunjin nods, answering the question that his friend had laid out for him. 
“Hmm, that is weird,” Felix agreed
“Maybe she’s actually a psychology major and it’s a project?” Seungmin suggested, trying to find the answers to the situation that has left them all clueless. 
“Orrr, maybe...just maybe...she thought you were cute?” Jeongin chuckled sarcastically
“But that’s literally all she said to me, she didn’t look at me after that anymore...when the class was over, she was gone without saying goodbye… s-she didn’t even tell me her name!” Hyunjin whines, sinking into his chair. 
“Why don’t you just ask her when you see her again?” their youngest retorts, tired of how his older friends were always overanalyzing things that don’t really matter in the grand scheme of things.
You frustrated the boy. The way you didn’t even know his name yet somehow you came to the conclusion that you liked him. The way that you spoke exactly 8 words to him but made it seem like you know every story he has to tell. You made him feel vulnerable and he did not like that. 
Not one bit. 
-
“What's your name?” Hyunjin plops his backpack down as he takes the seat next to yours, the same ones as last week. 
“Why does that matter?” you ask, clearly teasing the boy. 
Hyunjin plasters on the fakest smile he could muster up, not really having the patience for your mind games, “well, if you’re gonna continue to sit next to me then the least you could do is tell me your name.”
You bite back a smile, his music gave too much of him away. He was good at hiding his feelings though which is something you’ll give him credit for later on. Honestly, if you weren’t paying attention, you might have missed the sour expression that was laced within the boy's tone of voice nor would you have noticed how he’s trying to show you that he’s unbothered by your words. 
Unluckily for the boy, your attention was focused solely on him. And so, you push his buttons some more, “technically, you were the one that sat next to me.”
Hyunjin stares at you, trying to read what was going on in your mind but all he could feel was the annoyance that was seeping through his body. 
God, you were annoying. 
“Slowly, hair will turn to gray,” you mumbled, a smirk forming its way on your lips. “What?” Hyunjin replied, a word he seems to be saying a lot ever since he met you. “If you keep thinking so hard, your hair might  turn to gray soon,” you joked yet it was clear to the both of you that it was only funny to you, the boy not catching on to the fact that you were phrasing a lyric from one of his songs.
“...my name is y/n,” you say, finally deciding to give the boy a break. 
“Alright class, I want to talk about your partner project, please find someone in the classroom to work with. This will be done throughout the semester and will be 30% of your overall grade so take it seriously,” the Professor informed, capturing both yours and Hyunjins attention.
“This project will be simple - it’s all about observing. Since this is a PSYCH class, I want you and your partner to pick 3 spots and just simply observe the people around you. For example, if you are at the cafe, what could the person in the corner with her eyebrows furrowed be wondering? Is she studying for an exam? Is she worried about a friend? There are tons of possibilities but I want you and your partner to jot down what you see and explain what you have observed.”
“That’s all for today, I’ll release you guys early so you can all have a head start,” she explained. 
You turn to the boy at your side, “so…you want to be partners?” 
-
Hyunjin doesn’t really know why he said yes, seeming he wasn’t comfortable with your presence at all. He convinces himself that he just didn’t want to go through the extra hassle of finding a partner when you were already available. Besides he could honestly care less, the only reason why he’s taking this class was for the extra units. After all, he was a music major. 
“How about here?” you suggested the grassy area in the middle of the campus. This part of the school was peaceful however it wasn’t quiet. Laughter and chatter from all the different kinds of groups filled up the morning air while the birds chirped along and occasionally, a squirrel or two would cause a bit of a ruckus. 
“We could grab some food and just sit down on the grass,” but the puzzled expression on the boy's face lead you to assume that he didn’t quite like the idea, “just so we would blend in more,” you added, hoping that it would be enough for the boy to say yes. 
“We don’t need to get food. We can just sit here and pretend we're talking, a lot of people around here are doing just that.” He was right. All you could do was nod and let out a sigh as the two of you sat next to each other, observing the scene ahead. You were hoping you could grab a quick bite during this since you still had classes for the rest of the day but that obviously wasn’t the case so you chose to just cover up your rumbling stomach with a cough or two here and there. 
“What do you think about him?” Hyunjin pointed at the boy that was sitting on the bench, flowers in his hand as he types away on his phone. 
“Hmm, I noticed his smile first, he’s practically beaming. He’s probably going to surprise his significant other. His legs bouncing up and down from excitement,” you chuckle, finding the anonymous boys’ action cute, “he’s probably texting them right now so they could meet up,” you concluded. You turn to Hyunjin, noticing his eyes slightly widen at your response. “What do you think?” you ask, slightly nudging him out of his trance.
“well... I think you’re right that he’s waiting for someone. But for me, he’s probably gonna confess to that person...uhmm, his ears are pink so he’s nervous… probably afraid of rejection. Because of this he’s probably texting a friend for advice,” he observed.
His answer didn’t surprise you, after all, you’ve already seen some of the deepest parts of him - even if he was unaware. On the other hand, he was in awe. Your guys’ answers were so different from the other. The way you viewed the scene ahead as something positive while his was more on the negative side. This sparked interest in him. But he breaks out of his thoughts as he hears your failed attempt to hide your growling stomach for the umpteenth time. 
He stands to his feet, grabbing you along with him. “Uhm, where are we going?”
He doesn’t say a word. He just grabs your hand and drags you along until you’ve arrived at the university’s main food court. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your stomach rumbling for the past twenty minutes,” he teases as you try to hide the blush that was making its way upon your cheeks. Now you were left speechless, nothing in the boy’s music has suggested that he had this sweet side to him. The side that would easily let someone in. 
“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” you admitted as Hyunjin handed you the sandwich he had ordered, one for you and one for him. 
“What do you mean?”
“I’m sorry that I came off strong on the first day,” you apologized, aware of the way that you’ve been pushing his buttons and leaving him uncomfortable. 
“Why did you ask for my playlist?” He was finally going to get an answer to the event that has left him stunned for the past week. 
“It’s just a thing I do,” you confess nonchalantly, “I check to see if  we have similar taste in music and from there, I come to a conclusion on whether or not you’re cool enough for me to talk to,” you lied. You weren’t going to admit to him that the reason you do it was to analyze him. I mean, what kind of person assumes a person’s whole character through their songs, right? 
He wouldn’t understand. 
Honestly, you don’t even really understand yourself why you do it. Maybe because you liked having the upper hand - that way, no one can hurt you. 
Hyunjin lets out a laugh and you feel a little guilty. “So, if my songs were bad, you wouldn’t talk to me?” he chuckles. 
“Yeah, no… not in a million years,” you joked, laughing along with him. 
“So what would be a bad song to you?” he questions, a small smile playing on his lips. 
“I don't know, uhh-despacito?” you snicker
Honestly, there were no such things as bad songs. When it comes to songs, everyone is entitled to their own opinions but you had to play along with the little lie that you’ve already started.
“Hey! I like that song!” Hyunjin retorts, playfully throwing a crumpled up tissue paper along your direction, the two of you sharing a laugh as the small guilt you felt a while ago diminishes. It’s not like it’s going to hurt him anyways. You only see each other once a week and it was for class. Otherwise, you never see the brown haired boy on campus. You didn’t even know of his existence until you startled him with your question. 
The only reason he became your target was because the only empty seat was the one next to him. 
two. 
Second location. A frat party at the famous 3RACHA unit, who you’ve learned were good friends of Hyunjin. It was Hyunjin’s idea, convincing you that you guys will probably get a higher grade if you’ve incorporated various kinds of scenes. Plus, it was his first frat party and he didn’t want to miss it. You on the other hand was dreading this night ever since he brought it up in class last week. Parties weren’t your thing, you would much rather stay at home binging netflix shows, reading fanfictions, or watching compilations of your favorite kpop idols. But here you are now, rummaging the kitchen for something that didn’t contain alcohol as you’ve given up searching for the boy himself.  
“y/n!, heyy,” Hyunjin stumbles in, a red solo cup in his hand. 
“There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Can we please get this over with so I can leave,” you huffed, annoyed at the boy in front of you and the situation that you’ve found yourself in. 
“No.” He pouts before letting out a laugh, his eyes turning into little moons. 
“No? What do you mean, no?”
“Let’s have some fun first!” he beamed, dragging your hand out of the kitchen and into the party, ignoring your many protests. “Hyunjin, I didn’t come here for fun!” you sigh, arms crossing as you finally put a halt to the boys actions. 
“C’mon y/n, loosen up a little bit… you’re in the first party of the most popular frat in town, enjoy it while you can.” This time he holds his hand out, though his eyes had a tinge of red from the alcohol that was playing in his system, the sincerity in them couldn’t be missed. 
And so you do.
 You take his hand in yours as he shoots you one of his signature smiles. You party the night away with the boy at your side. He introduced you to a handful of new people but you forgot their names as soon as it came out of their mouths. 
-
You had way too much to drink but somehow you find yourself stumbling towards the park nearby, the boy's hand still in yours as he shares the story of how his best friend Jisung got chased by a duck and you couldn’t help but let out a boisterous laugh. Nothing about your laugh was pretty and if you weren’t so drunk, the embarrassment would’ve probably creeped up by now but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care - not when Hyunjins laugh would mix in with yours and you guys would have to literally cling to each other for strength. 
“Tag, you’re it!” he breaks you out of your thoughts as he starts running away, his laughter still ringing in the air as you chase him. After a while, you give up, you were in no way, shape, or form, fast enough to catch the boy - especially with all the liquor bouncing around your stomach. 
You sit down on the grass, catching your breath, your laughter dying down as your back hits the grass, eyes focusing on the twinkling orbs above. A few seconds later, warmth fills up beside you, Hyunjin taking his place next to you, mirroring your actions. 
“We never observed a person,” you say chuckling, breaking the silence that quickly hung over the two of you. 
“Sorry,” he smiles sheepishly, turning to you. Hyunjin takes this time to fully take in your appearance. No doubt in his mind, you are one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever seen. 
“Why don’t we, umm -,” he pauses, wondering to himself if this was going to be a good idea for him. 
“Why don’t we, what?” you reply quickly, curiosity getting the best of you as you turn to your side coming face to face with the boy himself. Your guys’ face were millimeters apart and the sudden feeling of his breathing being so close to you felt intoxicating. You dart your eyes down to his lips, thinking what it was like to feel them upon yours. 
Hyunjin lets out an awkward cough, breaking the tension in the air as he stares back up at the stars. “Why don’t we observe each other?” he suggests after his heartbeat finally calmed down. 
“Oh uhmm, o-okay,” you say, your voice faltering, pushing back your desire to kiss him. “You first,” you whisper, keeping your eyes locked into his features. 
“uhh, I think you’re wondering what the hell you’re doing with a boy you barely know at 3 in the morning. You don’t want me to notice that you’re actually really pissed at me for dragging you into this party and not getting any of our work done,”
The boy takes a pause as soon as he hears you giggle ‘hyunjin, you are so wrong,’ you think to yourself. 
“You’re the type to always get your shit done and you’ve probably already figured out everything you want in your life ever since you learned how to walk. You… you shouldn’t be wasting your time with someone like me,” he muttered, slowly turning to face you, this time a sad smile placed upon his lips. You sympathize with him, feeling sad with the way that he viewed himself. 
“Okay, uhm…you're anxious right now because you don’t know how i’ll react to your confessions. You’re the type of boy who doesn’t want to let anyone in but at the same time wants to know how it feels to be loved,” you sigh, the guilt you were feeling creeping in once again, slowly eating you up. Hyunjin grew tense under your observations. He hated how easily it is for you to read him when he thought that he was doing a decent job at keeping up with his facade. 
“You don’t notice the way others look at you because you’re too busy nitpicking your flaws. You didn’t notice how you were literally the life of the party back there. You didn’t notice the amount of girls practically begging for your attention…” you hesitate saying the last thing in your mind but as soon as you turned to him and saw the way he was looking at you, you couldn’t help but let the words stumble out of your mouth, “you don’t notice how much I want to kiss you right now,” and with those words out in the open, he brings his hands up to your cheek, slowly placing a light kiss upon your rosy lips and you swear you’ve never tasted anything better. It was a quick kiss, leaving as soon as it came, but the mix of his cherry chapstick and the alcohol created a combination that left you wanting more. Leaning up, you kiss him again, his mouth moving perfectly in sync with yours, deepening the kiss that you find yourself getting more and more addicted to with every second that passes. 
Hyunjin pulls away first, his thoughts finally all coming together as the alcohol was starting to slowly leave his system. He looks at you, the fear evident in his eyes. He fucked up and he knows it. He shouldn’t have kissed you. You guys were friends and frankly, he liked your company. He can never be that guy who starts a relationship with someone. He was sure that he was incapable of love and could never give you what you wanted. You knew this, of course. You knew this from day one. 
“I’m no good for you,” he sighed, mumbling several apologies for the actions that he took. And you realize how truly scared he was. That the tough image he’s keeping up isn’t because he had to but because he truly believed that it was the right thing to do. 
“That’s okay Hyunjin, we can blame it on the alcohol,” you wished you didn’t have to but you knew yourself that you couldn’t let this get deeper than what it was now.
Hyunjin walks you back to your dorm room, making sure you were safe inside before he headed back to his own place. 
-quiet when I’m coming home, i’m all alone. 
three. 
Hyunjin saw too many relationships around him fail, starting from his own parents. For him, love was merely an illusion. A desire that people get caught up with not because they are in love but because they lust the idea of love. The idea of having someone there to hold, to laugh with, to share stories with - it was all bullshit to him because at the end of the story, someone always leaves. Someone always says goodbye. It wasn’t worth it. 
Not for him. 
But sometimes he’ll see a picture on instagram and wonder to himself, could those smiles be permanent? 
“Are you just gonna keep stalking her social media or are you gonna actually talk to her?” Jeongin breaks the boy out of his thoughts. 
“I’m not stalking her!” Hyunjin replies defensively, hiding the pink that was creeping upon his cheeks. 
“I’ve literally been here for the past 3 mins just looking at you scroll through her feed and you didn’t even notice,” the younger boy points out, teasing him. Ever since the night at the park, Hyunjin couldn’t bring himself to talk to you. He knew that the both of you agreed to just forget it but could he really forget something like that? You made him feel what he was scared of the most. You made him feel like he wanted to fall in love. The memory of your lips against his keeps him up at night, your laughter ringing in his ear while the warmth from your fingertips makes him feel like he’s completely losing it. 
How can he still feel you when you were nowhere near him? 
How did you get past his wall so quickly? 
And why, fuck, why does he want you in it? 
-
You, on the other hand, haven't made any effort to reach out either. He was right about you. You were a know-it-all. Ever since you were younger you knew that you wanted to help the people around you. You enjoyed listening to others’, letting them know that they are never alone and that they could always turn to you for advice or simply just if they needed someone to listen to them. You liked the idea of being someone’s safe haven - that’s why you want to be a psychologist. 
But this - the way the boy made you feel, the way he cluttered your every waking thought - this was something you didn’t plan. This was something you didn’t have the answers to. Grabbing your phone, you finally gain the courage to send the boy a text 
Hey, we still have one scenario left, any ideas? - y/n
Hyunjin reads the text, his heart suddenly doing somersaults in the air. ‘Hyunjin, stop.’ he warns himself. He knows that he wasn’t ready to see you and so he ignored it. Grabbing his backpack he shouts a quick, “I'm gonna go practice,” before heading out to the dance rooms to try and clear his head. 
-
umm, what do you think about going to the diner across town? - y/n 
You did it. You double texted. After several hours, the boy still hasn’t responded to your text so you decided to take manners in your own hands. But as soon as you pressed send, you felt pathetic. He’s most likely just busy and that’s why he hasn’t replied but you like to make yourself believe that you had more of an effect on him. 
You were about to scream into your pillow, feeling frustrated at the situation until your phone let out a small ding, indicating that you’ve received a new message. 
sure - hyunjin 
how does tomorrow at 6pm sound ? - y/n 
good - hyunjin
These one word answers were killing you. For someone who usually knows and can assume what’s about to happen beforehand, you were left clueless and that annoyed you.  
-
“Hey, am i late?” hyunjin takes the seat across from you. no, he wasn’t late. you just arrived way earlier than the time planned hoping to calm your nerves before having to face the boy who has settled himself into your mind. 
“What do you think of that girl over there?” you point at the girl who was sitting, laughing along with her group of friends.
“geez y/n, can’t we order something to eat first,” hyunjin jokes. He barely got there and you were already on top of it. typical, he thinks to himself. You let out a small smile, happy at the fact that the boy was teasing you. Honestly, you were afraid that his responses were going to be as bland as his text messages and it has been killing your thoughts the whole night. 
“ok ok,, my bad… let’s order first,” when your food arrived, you fell into a comfortable conversation. like the thoughts that the both of you have been struggling with never existed. but in the middle of the conversation, something clicked within you. 
You can‘t read him anymore and that scared you. 
“honestly i think this whole project is stupid,” hyunjin blurts out, capturing your attention. 
“hmm, why do you say that?”
“i just find it absolutely ridiculous to just judge someone based on one scenario, you know? like i bet all our guesses have been wrong so far,” he confesses and once again the guilt rushes to your heart and you were left speechless. 
“Like I really hate it when people judge others without getting to know them like who do you think you are? Do people who do that actually think they’re better or mightier?” Hyunjin continues and suddenly the space around you feels tight, your lungs struggling to find air. You were the type of person that Hyunjin would hate and that leaves an unsettling feeling in your stomach. 
Hyunjin notices this after a while of you not responding to him and just picking at your food. “y/n, you okay?” he says, eyes filled with worry and you can't help but let out a tear, quickly brushing it off as soon as it hit your cheek. You don’t deserve the way he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone that comes to hurt you. 
“Hyunjin...i’m sorry,” you let out quietly as you tried to stop the rest of your tears from water falling. Grabbing your bag, you ran out of the diner, leaving a very confused Hyunjin behind to wonder what you were apologizing for. 
four.
7 missed calls 
you don’t dare try to answer any of it. 
the thought of having to face the boy and explain the reasons for your apology hurts you knowing that he wouldn’t want anything to do with you afterwards. how do you even explain it to him? there is literally no plausible excuse: 
“hey yeah i’m the jerk that you hate because i judged your whole personality based off of five songs,”
“i only did it because i like superiority”
“it also helps me feel better about myself”
yeah. he’ll definitely hate you afterwards. and so you sulk in your room, letting out your frustrated cries, your blanket comforting you as the sound of your phone ringing filled the air. after the 12th call, the ringing finally stops and you feel like you can finally think until a knock on your dorm room brings you back to reality. 
“hey,” he sighs, your eyes immediately widening as you shut the door as quickly as you opened it. 
“y/n, come on!” hyunjin whines
“how did you know this was my room?” you yell through the door. 
“I asked around,” he shouts back “now can you let me in??”
You were frozen in place, hands gripped on your doorknob to make sure that he can’t come in. “Look, we don’t have to talk about what happened okay,” he starts, “but we do have a project due in 2 days and i would like to finish it...so please just ….. just let me in.” He finishes, an exasperated sigh leaving his mouth once he comes face to face with the girl that has always been a puzzle to him. 
Entering your dorm room, you notice that the boy's hair is a bit disheveled and you wonder how many times he has let his hands run through them due to frustration. He’s doing his best to hide his furrowed eyebrows and keep a calm expression but you see through all of it. 
you’re doing it again. you think to yourself.  
“okay let’s just make up a scenario since we didn’t get one at the diner,” you suggest, finally breaking the silence that hung above the two of you. 
“why did you apologize?” hyunjin quietly asks, his gaze fixed strongly on you and you find yourself having to sit down due to the impact of his stare. 
“hyunjin…. you said we didn’t have to talk about it,” you responded, trying to change the subject. 
“I lied. I need to know the answers y/n. I need to know why you seem to see through my walls. I need to know how you dug a hole in my mind and stayed in it because I want you out. I don’t know what I’m feeling when it comes to you and I don’t like it.”
“How??? How can you see right through me?!”He frustratedly confesses, his voice getting louder with every question that leaves his mouth. 
“What?? are you a stalker??? Is that why you know?? have you been following me around ??”
“No!” you responded quickly, shutting down the assumptions that the boy has managed to come up with. 
“It’s your music.” you finally confess, your heart tightening as the words left your mouth, afraid of what’s to come next. 
Hyunjin stares at you, his mind finally connecting all the dots. The reason you asked for his playlist. The reason why you knew his stories and insecurities. All of it was because he gave you access to his music. And suddenly he felt bare. All his hiding, all the walls he put up, it was all useless when it came to you. 
“The last song in that playlist…” he starts but you finish the sentence for him, “please love me by colde,” your glassy eyes staring back up at him. 
“so, will you?” hyunjin asked, worry laced within his voice. 
“y-you’re not mad at me?” you stuttered, the boy's actions leaving your mind in a maze. he shakes his head. oddly enough, he didn’t feel any anger towards you. noticing that you were left in your thoughts to make sense of the situation at hand, he offers you a soft smile, “after knowing how troubled my mind was, you still stayed.”  
“i think i already do…” you confess, eyes fixated on him, “love you, that is,” you say mirroring the small smile that was on the boy’s face. 
At your confession, Hyunjin let’s out a shaky breath. 
“will you let me love you?” you ask him, a gentle tone laced within your voice, afraid of the answer to come. 
your eyes never breaking contact with his, you moved closer to him. hyunjins eyes darts down to your lips and suddenly the answer seemed so clear. 
love. 
the word that terrifies him the most. the thing that the boy has been swearing off ever since he was little. love was something hyunjin never understood but every time he looks at your eyes, every time he feels your warmth next to him, and now as your lips move in perfect sync with his, it all seems to make sense.
(a/n): this ending is so rushed and im not sure if im entirely happy with it but i really did not know what to do for the longest time. i was thinking of just scrapping the whole thing tbh but anyways....
feedback is always welcomed and my ask is always open :) 
thank you for reading! 
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La Squadra Backstories!!!! Stream of consciousnesss style!
So literally I just sat down and wrote down exactly what I thought. I have not edited these at all lmaooo. But I made long drawn out backstories for our underrated assassins so enjoy!!
T/W + C/W - idk I talk about people dying in a lot of ways. Child abuse, drugs, severe illness, dead cats. This stuff is a mess I really didn’t censor it. But nothing is described in detail cuz I’m too lazy for that.
————
Prosciutto cuz he’s at the top of my mind. Mmkay he and Pesci are brothers but not by blood. Pro was an orphan, I still wanna make him Russian, and pesci’s extremely kind and gentle family adopted him when he was like 7. They were like literally a garden catalogue family. Perfection. The parents died when pro was like 15, Pesci was 13?? Idk the age difference I’m just making shit up now. And Pesci had no fucking idea what to do, they didn’t have any other family, and pro was like “I’m still basically a hardened criminal from living on the streets of russia most of my childhood, so joining the local mafia should be a piece of cake”. It was.
Risotto..... fuck it. Polpo is risottos dad. I’ve seen that so much and fuck it I’m here for it now. Idk how I feel about the whole Mariah from part 3 being his mom that seems too coincidental. But either way, he is half Spanish. I don’t think he’s ever been in touch with his Spanish roots at all, but that’s what he is. Polpo had too much fun on vacay in Spain. But it was a once night stand and polpo, a skinny king back in the mid 70s, fucked off to do mafia stuff and didn’t know about this kid. Risotto never knew his father. Time goes by, about the time he’s 10, rizzo’s mom moves to Italy to find the man she once loved. Since the 70s, she has been married and divorced 4 times, disowned by her entire family, and she speaks only of Polpo, the man who swept her off her feet and then disappeared into the night. Leaving only this child with his matching eyes. So they live in Italy, risotto is about 13 now and his mom has been searching seriously for polpo for about 3 years. One day, she gets too close, mafia takes her out. Risotto is all alone in a country he has lived in for less than 3 years. So he decides to take revenge against the mafia. He goes to hunt them down. (I’m too lazy to write out how. Gets a gun. Basically the scene in part 5 where the kid is like “you killed my father and now I’m gonna kill you!!” But he chickens out???) yeah except rizzo didn’t chicken out, he stood firm and killed 2 of them. The other 2 surrendered, and immediately asked rizzo to take polpos test. He did. And he unknowingly met his father, the man his mother had died looking for. He stared into his fathers eyes, black sclera reflecting each other, and passed his test with ease.
Wowwwwwwwww alrighty then that was something. Let’s shake out those jitters because fuck that was intense and let’s move onto some happy shit.
Melone!! Always a bottle of joy. He was a phenomenal student, a perfect child. Perfect grades, perfect attitude, perfect looks. Onlyyyy tiny thing is he murdered cats and buried their heads in the back yard. But that was his only flaw. Aaaaaaaand mayyybe trying to use his extensive knowledge of molecular biology and genetics (even at as young as 11) to asexually breed said cats.
But, apart from that, absolutely perfect specimen of a young boy. And he kept that up until college. Until the rape accusation. Melone had no interest in having sex with her, he swore under oath in open court, he only wanted to “extract her essence” in the hopes of making her amazing genetics stay pure for centuries.
Due to his previously amazing school record, he was allowed to plead not guilty by reason of insanity (because the justice system is bullshit) and was released to his parents. During this whole process, Melone’s mother had begun to grow suspicious of her son, wondering if there was something wrong with him. This led her to explore the crawl space under the garage, more commonly known as “Melone’s childhood laboratory”. The cat skulls alone were enough to set her off. They allowed him into their home long enough to fool the court, but parole officers don’t pay attention, and they kicked him to the curb a month later. Broke, alone, and with no real skills other than his genius mind and gorgeous body, he became a prostitute. It was only a few months before he wandered up to a gigantic white haired man with angry eyes and asked if he wanted a date. Instead of declining, our good ol rizzo just knocked him out cold and brought him home. The rest is history. Literally because I can’t think of what would happen between that and Melone joining the mafia. I assume he was just their house pet for a little while before he decided he wanted a stand too.
Oh good lord these are getting insane. Better keep going. Okay I have no idea what’s about to come out of my head for ghia but oh Lordy. Might as well start. Ghiaccio wasn’t always quite as angry, but it’s actually gonna be a sweet story. Kinda. He used to act perfect, even tho he always felt the anger inside. He was forced to bottle it up and put on a happy exterior always. His mother was Belgian. (From experience, Belgian mothers (Flemish in particular) will beat you until your ass is raw if you talk back). Italian father, they lived in italy. He had 4 sisters, he was the middle child of 5. Around high school, he started acting out. Of course this was due to all of his bottled up anger from the past 15 years. 4 shattered sinks, 16 holes in the drywall, and one classroom fire later, Ghiaccio was expelled from school. His parents were too busy brimming with joy about the success of all his sisters that they didn’t take much notice to him. “If you’re going to behave in such a manner you might as well leave” his mother said. She was past the point of caring enough to beat him. So he left. 16 and with no where to go, he wandered the streets. After a year or so, Ghia had gotten used to that life, and was angry at everyone, sometimes when he wasn’t even angry. Anger had become his coping mechanism. Screaming was easier than talking. Until one day, he screamed at a blonde man in an intersection. Prosciutto was driving back to the squads hang out, boxes of takeout in the back seat of the car. He had chosen to not stop at the red light, just for fun, and nearly ran into our blue haired teenager. Ghia proceeded to cuss him out for a good 4 minutes in the middle of this intersection before pro cut him off. “Get in the back. “ he said, with his own special brand of brotherly love. “I know how you can put that anger to good use”. Ghiaccio, having no real reason to object, got in the back seat. Prosciutto was silent the rest of the drive and Ghiaccio yelled about all the take out food, now splattered on the backs of the seats due to the sudden slam on the brakes.
Y’all I don’t even remember the other la squadra members. Let’s do sorbet/gelato because they have zero backstory or personality so I can just ramble. *Clears throat* let’s begin. These fuckers. Friends since birth. Grew up together, always really close. They were both dirt poor, but because the only school nearby was a decent public school, when were able to slightly experience middle class living. They liked it. They wanted to see upper class, and once they did, they wanted to be there. These two were money grubbing bffs, I’m talking josuke and okuyasu, but like waaaaay more intense and also violent. They both left home around 14, together of course. Gelatos father had left them a few years prior, and his family were on the brink of starvation. Figuring they didn’t need another mouth to feed (and completely abandoning his post as family patriarch lol) he left with sorbet, who’s family had all died in various ways over the years. Most recently, his older sister being taken by some illness that was probably easily treatable, but with no means for a doctor, she died in days. The boys left home and school, and made a living by pickpocketing tourists and occasionally launching into larger heists. They made a decent living for themselves, but eventually started spending their money on drugs. It’s was sorbet first, heroin was really good to him for awhile. Gelato was against it, knowing it was the reason sorbets family had been so poor to begin with. His father was an addict, and despite holding down a job fairly well, spent all his earnings on drugs. Eventually he became too dependent, lost his job, and OD’d. But around this same time, when the boys were 16/17, they were starting to realize their feelings for each other. Confused teenaged minds full of budding love led to Gelato giving in, and soon their days were filled with heroin fueled ecstatic sex. They lived like this for awhile, existing in half reality, until one day they chose to set their pickpocketing targets on a short man with close cropped gray hair. The plan was perfect, sorbet bumped into the man and gelato passed by to grab his wallet, and suddenly they were the size of mere ants. In an instant, they were returned to size, left to wonder if it was real or just a hallucination from long term drug use. But they didn’t run. Formaggio introduced himself, with a loose handshake and a pause to spit out some tobacco, and promptly invited them to a “party”. Although, Formaggio was honest in his promise, this party did have drugs.
Cheese boys turn!! Seriously who am I forgetting??? Illuso my mirror man! Am I forgetting someone else too?? Idk. But shut up Kel it’s cheese boys turn.
So. Formaggio. Probably the most chill childhood. Lower middle class, pretty average, but he was quite gifted with sports. Soccer was his main, and also a fantastic competitive swimmer. (Okay I have a separate hc that Bruno is really good at soccer so hol horse up a moment so I can imagine those 2 playing soccer together in friendly competition. In my lil au where Bruno is in la squadra because I say BruPro exes rights please and thanks.) but anyway, he got really good at soccer and was offered a scholarship to play at a fancy pants private high school when he was 14. Of course his parents made him go, this has been the family’s dream for years, and formaggio’s as well. So high school is amazing, he’s starting to attract attention from universities even tho he’s barely in grade 11 by this point. And it’s all really amazing until he realizes. This isn’t what he wants. And it’s just that. He doesn’t want to play soccer anymore, he doesn’t want to potentially be famous. He just wants to be a kid. So he leaves school, he leaves home, he wants to start over. And he wanders into a diner and sees this small group of weirdly dressed men. At this point, it’s rizzo, pro, Pesci, and ghia. And he’s staring at them because they’re dressed like circus clowns but their aura is so murderous. And then the one who looks like a giant pineapple starts staring back. Pesci gets up and walks over to Formaggio. “I know you! You’re that amazing kid soccer player!!” And he just goes on and on about shit he read in the news (70% of it was false) until pro comes over and yanks his idiot brother away. Pro starts asking Formaggio questions, thinking he could be a good target. Stupid little rich kid. But to prosciuttos surpise, Formaggio is just a down to earth kid with no more money to his name than he needs to pay for this meal. Prosciutto takes him home after that. He doesn’t really offer any explanation.
(The rambling at the beginning of this paragraph actually happened lol so I paused for like 4 hrs oops)
Alright we are back. Had to leave to go to therapy and then scream at my mother and cry to my boyfriend but we are ready to go! Illuso and I really hope he’s the last one and I’m not forgetting one. Illuso was raised in an orphanage from infancy. No idea who his parents could even be. Fun fact: one of the nuns at the orphanage (cuz it’s an orphanage in Italy in 1980, they’re catholic.) nicknamed him Illuso because he was always pointing at things that weren’t there. As a tiny baby and a child, he would always be looking at things no one else can see (yes illuso is a natural stand user fight me). The nuns called him illuso as an insult, hoping to shame him into stopping. He never did. When he outgrew the orphanage, he decided to join the priesthood. He was 19, a priest in training, when the mafia came to the orphanage. They were collecting, and illuso knew they didn’t have the money this month. He tried to talk the mobsters down, but that went about as well as planned. 4 bullets to the chest, 3 open heart surgeries, and half a dozen resuscitations later, Illuso was released from the hospital. The orphanage had been shut down, and no one knew what had happened to the children or the nuns. With no where to go, illuso knew of one place that could use talents like his. The talents of steadily stealing money from the starving children of the church for a decade. It was during polpos test that illuso’s stand manifested. Not due to the arrow, but to protect its user from the other stand. Illuso was able to avoid Black Sabbath by hiding in his newfound mirror world until it was time to return the lighter to polpo (kinda cowardly but whatever.) he was assigned to risottos group by chance and was the last to join excluding Melone. But they loved him as if they had found him themselves.
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mistabullets · 4 years
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hello! could i request headcannons for mista, bruno, and jotaro with a fem!s/o who is really athletic and ~flexible~ ;) maybe sfw+nsfw?
finally back to our regular schedule
anyway, it’s a mix of sfw + n/s/f/w i tried my best
With an Athletic + Flexible S/O
Not SFW under cut ;
Guido Mista
Out of all the men, Mista is going to flower you with compliments about your well-defined muscles, your natural tan, and the natural raw strength you’ve obtained. He’s most likely to offer to be workout buddies and hit the gym with you, believing it’s a good way to get to know you more and see what your exercise routine is, out of curiosity. 
While he’s a lover of all bodies in any shape and size, he just admires your body and your dedication! Most people usually give up so easily and get discouraged. Hell, he would even say you’re stronger than him since you regularly do yoga and he can barely get into any of those poses. You’re just... so cool and admirable, always striving for better!
But while you were doing your normal yoga session in the morning, he can’t help but notice... just how really flexible you are. The sports bra and leggings fit you well, showing off the curve of your ass and your welcoming cleavage. Mista allows you the time to stretch, not daring to disturb your morning routine but he thinks about it for the rest of the day.
The next time you some free time, you and Mista are getting hot and heavy. Your boyfriend has never made you do anything you’re uncomfortable with but tonight, he asks a favor. Your boyfriend shows a picture of a woman, bend down, feet and hands flat on the ground. He asks you if it was possible if both of you could try this. 
Wanting nothing more than to make your boyfriend happy, you agree! And Guido is so excited. You place a matt on the floor beneath you, making sure your hands and feet won’t go numb for holding on to such an intense pose. You give your boyfriend a bit of a show and seductively bend down in proper position, making sure his attention is on your bubble butt.
It doesn’t take Mista too long to rip off your panties and you’re surprised when you feel a mouth on the lips of your sex. You huff and whine, realizing Mista was planning on teasing you before he would give you what you want. You squirm, hands and feet growing tired, as your boyfriend made you cum all over his mouth. 
This was going to be a long night, you thought to yourself but then you were relieved to feel the tip of his cock push against your entrance. But he was slow with his thrusts, but he penetrated deep within your core. Your legs and arms felt like jello, about ready to give out. Eventually, Mista gave you some mercy and grabbed your upper body.
He reached for your arms, holding them tightly as he started to pound harder and faster into your pussy. Mista pressed hard against your hip, sputtered a few times before his cum painted your walls. He carried you to the bed, giving you kisses and praises. “M-Man, bambina! That felt so good, we should definitely do that again sometime~”
Bruno Bucciarati
Bruno thinks your body is lovely! While he’s too busy to be your gym buddy, he’ll occasionally gift with nice equipment such as a treadmill, stationary bike, weights, yoga balls, etc. It’s one way to keep you at home He’ll also gift you with workout clothes, ones that cling nicely to your body. You appreciate his gestures since it’s nice not paying for a membership!
You’re a professional dancer (ballerina, background dancer, etc) and it’s one of the main reason you’re constantly working out. Sometimes he’ll come and attend your recitals or concerts, always gifting you with a banquet of flowers and rewarding with a kiss after your performance. Bruno is so supportive of your career and he makes a point of it.
One of your performance involves a more erotic dance and it has Bruno on the edge of his seat. Jealously even brews, knowing there’s other in the audience, taking in the sight of your body and fluid movements. While your performance is quite impressive, he can’t help but become aroused at the sight of you. He absolutely needs you after this. 
When you’re heading home from your performance, with Bruno driving, he reaches to cup your thighs. He’s not afraid to tell you how sexy you were this evening, telling you to be prepared for later. You know what this means and can’t help but feel your face becomes flustered. Your thighs clenched together, already excited at the prospect. 
You change into your best set of lingerie when you return home and decide to give your boyfriend his own personal show with the strip pole he had installed for you. You can see him become hard and you stop your little dance, strutting over to Bruno while accentuating your body. You prepare your love by giving him a lap dance, grinding down on him. 
After a while, he has enough. He picks you up, carrying to the bed and throwing you down. You give an innocent smile before he crawls up, caging in your body. He strips off your lingerie, giving attention to your lips, chest, and breasts. Bruno tears off your panties and now he is preparing you, fingering your tight pussy. 
Once he’s done with his ministrations, he takes off his clothes and springs his cock free. You get in a typical missionary position but the sole of your press against the mattress, lifting your lower body up.  Bruno snakes his arm around your waist to help support you and pushes the head of dick inside of you, slowly easing himself inside of you before hitting the hilt. 
Like Mista, he takes his time, enjoying the walls of your pussy clenching around his shaft. You feel your legs grow weak but you know better than to give out just yet. Your arms are giving you even more support, gripping at the bedsheet as Bruno drives his cock further and faster inside of you. You can feel him grinding against your clit and hitting your sweet spot. 
Bruno claws at your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ears before giving you a more thrust and cumming inside. Finally, your legs give out and your boyfriend admires his seed dripping out of your core. He chuckles before going up and planting a sweet kiss on your lips. “You did so well tonight, bella. Now let’s clean up and draw a bath, amore.” 
Jotaro Kujo
Jotaro doesn’t care what your body type is. However, that doesn’t mean he won’t acknowledge your nice, toned body and appreciate how beautiful you are. He’s not one to gift you with equipment or clothes, but maybe if you plead with him, he may go to the gym with you every once in a while whenever he’s not busy with his studies and thesis. 
You play sports, perhaps soccer or basketball, usually semi-professional. When he’s not busy, he’ll attend your games to show his support. He really stands out in the bleachers, with his white jacket and tall frame. Jotaro’s not the one to cheer you on but he’s going to pay close attention whenever you have the ball. He watches you, intrigued.
It’s a hot summer day and he sees how the sweat glistens down your forehead, the sway of your hair, and the intense gaze in your eyes. Jotaro knows you’re passionate when it comes to staying fit and when you’re playing sports. But today just happens to be the day he notices your love for the game... and just how sexy you are.
You win your game and the two of you celebrate with a simple date to a diner (once you’re cleaned up, of course). Jotaro does reward you for your hard work and dedication to a nice dinner. The two of you enjoy a simple conversation, talking about what’s been going on throughout the week, your practices, his studies, and if something new came up. 
In the car, he admits to how beautiful you were and how well you did. Jotaro is a man of few words so to hear that from him has your heart thumping. He doesn’t really compliment you so much, showing his love in different ways. So you know he must have been watching you and perhaps has something in store for later that evening. 
Your assumption turns out to be correct. You go back to Jotaro’s house and you’re pressed against the door, encaptured by his lips. He leads you to the bedroom, stripping both of you, and giving attention to your body. Jotaro suckles your nipples, before trailing down to your groin. However, he doesn’t plan on teasing you for too long and rips off your panties.
Jotaro takes off his pants, his dick already hard from anticipating the evening (he’s always eager when it comes to making love to you). He pulls your legs are the end of the bed and lifts most of your body, only leaving your head and upper back to rest on the mattress. Your legs are on Jotaro’s shoulders and you feel his cock aligning against your pussy.
He pushes himself inside, hissing about how tight you are. He’s rough with you and you feel weightless, blood rushing to your head. You finally cum and he follows, but he pulls out, and his seed spills all over your ass. Jotaro settles you back on the bed, grabbing a towel to clean you off. When he’s done, he snuggles and kisses you “Love ya, babe.”
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bow-woahh · 4 years
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Chapter 1. Just... chapter 1
Send me your favorite scene/chapter from one of my works and I’ll post a DVD commentary on it.
okay I'm gonna assume you mean chapter 1 of bloom since it's my latest fic haha.
Originally, bloom was literally meant to be a little one shot based on this post someone sent me, which very quickly spiralled out of control. So even though I left seeds of things in that first chapter, I never thought they'd actually be explored. But I loved it so much that I wanted to expand on the world and began properly outlining after either this chapter or like chapter 2.
First of, the title of the whole fic and every chapter is a different song lyric. Some of the songs (all in the playlist) really accurately describe mainly Catra's feelings or what she's going through, while other ones are just more of bops that although had one or two relatable lines, they're not as meaningful and are there to more or less fulfill the vibe/feeling I'm going for. you showed me your smile and my cares were gone fits into the latter category.
Now onto the chapter itself!
She'd been dancing when she’d run into her ex’s friends. Then her ex.
So I know it was a big question in this chapter who Catra's ex was, because it was never revealed since it really wasn't that significant and isn't in the rest of the fic either. Initially I thought of having her ex be DT but decided against it just because it didn't feel right. Because she probably won't make any appearances in the fic (besides mentions), I think it's only fair that I tell you guys a little bit about her.
So, her name's Roxanne and she just graduated high school (she went to Bright Moon High) when Catra finished her sophomore year so she's 18/19 now. They met at a party when Catra was still back at Horde High (when she was 15) and after a couple of months of knowing each other they got together. She was Catra's first girlfriend which...other than serving to reaffirm her sexuality to herself it was not a great relationship and definitely did more harm than good, especially towards the end. 
So she put in her earphones, chose her late night vibes playlist and scrolled through Twitter.
Someone once asked me to also make a playlist of what Catra listens to and I would if finding all the songs for every chapter didn't traumatise me but after thinking about it, in this playlist she'd have some Frank Ocean songs, Bruno Major, Harry Styles, some X songs on this playlist. Oh songs by this one artist called keshi - very chill and I can imagine she'd jam to that.
Adora Grayskull: the captain of the lacrosse team, adored by many, quite possibly the whole school, teachers and students alike.
I don't know why out of all the sports I chose lacrosse. But I did. So. More work for me.
Maybe she added all her classmates. Yeah—that was probably it.
Okay so this is in reference to Adora adding Catra to her private story and while, yes, she'd be fairly liberal with who she added to her private story, she also specifically added Catra hoping that she'd get added to hers (to no surprise, Catra doesn't have one) or that it'd somehow start a conversation. It did. Eventually.
There was, just not what she’d expected—a picture of her ceiling and the caption: skipped out on party, bored at home - smbdy hmu?
Adora is the type of teen who cares more about the food at a party and the company rather than the drinking culture and dancing. Combine that with the fact she's also just a workaholic and I can imagine that if Glimmer and Bow didn't drag her out to most parties she'd go to slim to none of them.
Catra was sitting on the bench still, bopping her head side to side, only slightly tipsy and now listening to her guilty pleasures playlist—mostly consisting of pop music—when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
Taylor Swift is 1000% on this playlist.
Taking a step closer, Adora opened her mouth, then closed it, opened it again and settled on saying, “I...was I not meant to? Because you did kind of ask, and then I responded, so I—”
Adora is such a dork here, I love it. Like she's just so awkward but she's also simultaneously radiating himbo energy and I love it lmao. As the chapters progress, she does have less moments like these because she's obviously gotten more comfortable around Catra but there are times when this energy comes back and it so much fun to write.
Catra was widely known in school, which she supposed was similar to Adora, but for all the wrong reasons.
Although Catra is super smart, she was obviously held back by being in an environment like Horde High and it got to a point (near the end of her time their especially) where she didn’t really care and was really acting out. And even though she wanted a fresh start at BMH, her reputation massively carried and it only got worse when she broke up with her girlfriend and she outed her and started spreading even more rumours, some of them completely untrue just to stir the pot. Basically, fuck Roxanne, all my homies hate Roxanne. 
Adora held out one of the sweatshirts she had under her arm. Briefly hesitating, Catra took it, muttering a ‘thanks’ before putting it on. She wasn't sure if Adora watched her as she did. Unsurprisingly, it was a size or two big, as Adora was a little taller, and definitely had more muscle. But it was warm, and it smelt like it was fresh out of the laundry, and it’d been worn by Adora Grayskull—Bright Moon’s star athlete. 
At this point, Catra very much only sees Adora as this popular girl who everyone loves, because that’s how everyone else sees her. And even though she prides herself in not caring about that kind of thing, she still can’t help but be a little star struck that she’s wearing Adora Grayskull’s clothes. Because how many people can say that they have? Also, pretty girl, she gay.
They got to her truck, with Adora getting in after shutting Catra’s door for her (apparently it shut better from the outside) and went to put her keys in the ignition.
This is kinda true, but also kinda bullshit. Adora is just chivalrous. Also, I’m surprised I haven’t written this in yet, but her truck’s called Swift Wind.
“Really, Grayskull?” Catra asked again. Adora gave her a blank look in return, so she continued with a sigh. “Okay well, not only was she just a shitty person, but she pretty much outed me, to the whole school. Ring any bells?”
Bright Moon High is definitely not the Horde, so most people aren’t dicks, or raging homophobes, but after a slew of bad experiences Catra had witnessed and some she’d been apart of at the Horde, she obviously wasn’t ready to come out of the closet there and being at BMH didn’t change that. But because she was outed, she didn’t really have a say in it and being from a Horde High, some people who aren’t even necessarily homophobic would use that against her. 
That was when Catra looked down and realised she’d forgotten to take off her sweatshirt.
The sweatshirt is definitely going to make a reappearance. Maybe in a different form. Like I just love this trope, it’s so cute and you can’t convince me otherwise so.
Anyway, that’s the end of this commentary thing, I had a lot of fun, and if you guys liked it, feel free to leave another in my ask box! Chapter 8 is coming I promise, I’m just finding it hard to find time to write now that I’ve started A-Levels but hopefully it can be out this week! (:
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lovemesomesurveys · 3 years
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When you get an account for something, what's the first username you try? I’m not sharing that.
What do you think might be someone else's first impression of you? I really don’t want to know what people think of me currently. Probably like, yikes, this girl is a mess.
Is texting having a negative or a positive effect for social relationships? It’s not so black or white. There’s certainly pros and cons to it.
Would you be okay with a friend wanting to date one of your exes? No.
Have you ever been addicted to something other than a drug? I was going to say caffeine, but that’s still considered a drug.
Have you ever been addicted to a drug? When you’re on certain medications for so long you’re likely going to develop a dependency to it.
Do you like macadamia nut cookies? No.
What kind of accent do people typically have where you're from? It’s weird to think of people from California as having an accent even though apparently everyone has an accent.
Bruno Mars - fail or win? I like a lot of his music.
Can you sleep without a fan on? No, not even in the winter.
Does history interest you at all? Yeah. It’s something I like learning about on my own, though, not when I was being tested and expected to memorize dates and names and whatnot in school.
What's something you wish you could do-over? Oh, man. If I could just go back like 5 or 6 years that would make a big difference.
How many times a day do you apply deoderant? Just once, usually.
Have you ever tried any drugs? I’ve only done weed.
What caused the most intense physical pain you've ever felt? The pain after all my surgeries.
Do you like those Sperry Top-Sider shoes? No.
Can you wear shoes like that without getting blisters on your ankles? I don’t wear shoes like that.
Would you agree that dark chocolate tastes like rotten chocolate? I wouldn’t say it tastes rotten, but I don’t like it.
Do you touch your lips when you're nervous? Yeah, I pick at and bite my lips a lot.
Do you think you can read other people's body language well? I think so.
Are you a good driver? I don’t drive.
Did you pass your driver's test the first time you took it? I haven’t taken it.
Would you rather be involved in a watergun or a paintball gun war? Water gun out of the two.
Is your hair in layers or is it all the same length? It’s more the same length now cause it’s been almost a year since I last got it cut.
Is there anyone who you're afraid to be in a car with, if they're driving? No.
What's a quick fix for a bad hair day? A hat.
Do you enjoy flying or do you get scared? I get really anxious beforehand, but once we’re up in the air I’m usually okay unless there’s a lot of turbulence. 
Be honest. Do you like making other people feel jealous? No, I’m too old for those kinds of games.
Have you ever purposely made someone of the opposite sex jealous? I attempted to when I was younger and dumb.
Are you addicted to shopping? No.
Do you always wear mascara and eyeliner? Back when I wore makeup, yeah.
Do you have any huge hoodies lined with snuggly fur on the inside? No.
Do you like headphones or ear-buds more? I like earbuds.
What's your favorite winter sport? I don’t like any sport.
What's something you're very good at? Nothing.
Where do you spend the majority of your summer? At home with a few beach trips sprinkled in. I didn’t get to go last summer for obvious reasons and I don’t know about this year either. :/
Who do you usually spend the most of your summer with? My family.
How old were you and where did you go on your first real date? I was in my early 20s. I was taken out to dinner and a movie.
Have you ever had a bonfire on the beach at night? No, but I’d love to.
Do you like sour gummy worms? No. I don’t like sour stuff.
Have you ever helped a complete stranger with anything? Yes.
Would you pick up a hitchhiker if they seemed harmless? Absolutely not. Ted Bundy seemed harmless initially, too.
When playing a sport, are you more focused on winning or having fun? I don’t play sports.
Who's the last person who gave you a piggy back ride? A family member, I’m sure. I haven’t done that since I was a kid.
Who's the last person that you gave a piggy back ride? I’ve never given anyone a piggy back ride.
Rock, paper, or scissors? Rock.
Would you be bothered if your boyfriend liked to bite you? Uhh, depends? If it was done playfully like when making out I wouldn’t mind.
Are you any good at dancing? Nope.
Even if you aren't, do you like to dance? I like to bob my head and move my arms and shoulders a bit.
What makes you feel the most 'alive'? I haven’t felt that in a long time.
Whose conversations do you appreciate the most? Ones with my mom, brother, and my aunt.
How often do you get the opportunity to be completely alone? I do every night after my family has gone to bed. 
Do you like being alone or does it drive you crazy? I need to have some alone time.
Do you have a trampoline? No.
Do you get nervous when driving in convertibles, knowing that if you flipped, you'd be screwed? I’ve never ridden in one or thought about that happening.
What's your favorite Pixar movie? Toy Story.
Who do you adore? My loved ones.
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purplesurveys · 3 years
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1096
survey by doedear
When you get an account for something, what's the first username you try? It depends on what I’m signing up for. For social media and informal sites I use the same username I’ve been using for like a decade now just because it makes it easier for me to remember; for more professional websites I use my first name, my middle initial, and my surname. 
What do you think might be someone else's first impression of you? The most common impression is quiet and aloof, which I’m honestly fine with.
Is texting having a negative or a positive effect for social relationships? I appreciate that it makes staying connected with my loved ones a lot easier, but I disagree with how it’ll sometimes be used to deal with situations that are ideally handled by person, like breakups or serious arguments. In other words it can definitely have both; it depends on how it’s used.
Would you be okay with a friend wanting to date one of your exes? I might have a personal problem with it, but it’s not like I would do anything to prevent it from happening. I would not be in the place to do so. I will probably distance myself from that friend though, just so that I don’t have to get updated on what’s going on between them.
Have you ever been addicted to something other than a drug? No.
Have you ever been addicted to a drug? Nope.
Do you like macadamia nut cookies? Sure, though I really ever only eat one kind; Starbucks has a dark chocolate macadamia cookie that I like to get from time to time.
What kind of accent do people typically have where you're from? Philippine English, which I’d say sounds a bit similar to American English, excep for the small differences here and there  of our differences in pronunciation.
Bruno Mars - fail or win? He’s a win for me. When it comes to Top 40/pop music, he has always been one of my honest favorites. Have kind of a crush on him too lol, so there’s that.
Can you sleep without a fan on? During this time of the year, yes. It doesn’t last that long since Philippines was never meant to be a cold country, though.
Does history interest you at all? It really does; I can watch, read, and go to museums about it all day if I could. It was also my favorite class and it was the subject I could rely on to have good grades in and pull my average up, hahaha.
What's something you wish you could do-over? As much as possible I don’t really think of this as I don’t see the point in focusing on situations that are already done and over with. But if I had no choice, I’d pick the time I was a college freshman and make myself less-breakdown-y and less-depression-y.
How many times a day do you apply deoderant? Once, at the start of the day.
Have you ever tried any drugs? Other than caffeine, no.
What caused the most intense physical pain you've ever felt? The time I accidentally ripped my earring off and permanently disfigured my piercing. Also, when I touched a plugged-in clothing iron thinking it wouldn’t be hot enough.
Do you like those Sperry Top-Sider shoes? They’re actually pleasant to look at, yes. I’d buy a pair for myself.
Can you wear shoes like that without getting blisters on your ankles? When I’ve worn them like 5 times already, yeah. I always get blisters with newly-bought pairs, though.
Would you agree that dark chocolate tastes like rotten chocolate? Uh, no? That’s some poorly-made dark chocolate you have. 
Do you touch your lips when you're nervous? I have other habits.
Do you think you can read other people's body language well? Yeah. This is on surveys a lot...
Are you a good driver? I’mmmmmm honestly a little reckless because my temper is shortest when on the road lol. But since I’ve driven the longest out of all my friends and have grown used to parking in tricky spots, changing lanes, overtaking, etc., they all still prefer to ride with me.
Did you pass your driver's test the first time you took it? Yes. I think he passed me out of sympathy though (because I did terrible and we both knew it), because failing me would’ve taken so much more time on my end and theirs. And in the Philippines, getting things over with matters more than quality control haha.
Would you rather be involved in a watergun or a paintball gun war? At this point maybe a paintball gun war, since I’ve been to many water gun fights before.
Is your hair in layers or is it all the same length? It’s the same length. I haven’t had it layered since the 5th grade.
Is there anyone who you're afraid to be in a car with, if they're driving? A friend who’s new to driving, like Jo or Angela.
What's a quick fix for a bad hair day? I just dab my hair with some water at the sink; it’s usually able to do the trick and make me look prepared when I’m unable to take a full shower.
Do you enjoy flying or do you get scared? The idea of accidents and crashes scare me, of course, but I try not to let it ruin my experience of flying and traveling.
Be honest. Do you like making other people feel jealous? Sometimes but it has waned more as I’ve gotten older. It has just started to mean less and less through the years and as my priorities change.
Have you ever purposely made someone of the opposite sex jealous? No. When it came to Mike, I didn’t really flaunt my relationship since I felt bad for him.
Are you addicted to shopping? Nope, but I can definitely see myself being if I ever decide to make it a weekly habit.
Do you always wear mascara and eyeliner? I never wear either.
Do you have any huge hoodies lined with snuggly fur on the inside? No, and I can tell you that is uncommon to see here because that sounds insanely warm to wear.
Is there anything you do, kind of habitually, that's completely mindless but helps you think? I don’t think so. I’m not sure I understood the question, either...
Do you like headphones or ear-buds more? Earbuds. Headphones undeniably have better quality, but they’re bulky.
What's your favorite winter sport? I don’t watch or play any.
What's something you're very good at? Meeting deadlines. I never miss one.
Where do you spend the majority of your summer? At home? ...Where else am I supposed to spend it in? Haha.
Who do you usually spend the most of your summer with? My family. I don’t have any yearly practices set every summer.
How old were you and where did you go on your first real date? I was 16; it was a quaint, Italian-American restaurant in Greenbelt.
Have you ever had a bonfire on the beach at night? I don’t think so. I would love that experience.
Do you like sour gummy worms? Yeah. I like the more gelatinous kind than the gummy candies with sour powder on them, though.
Have you ever helped a complete stranger with anything? I’m sure I have, but nothing super specific is coming to mind at the moment...just little things like holding the door open for someone carrying a heavy bag, cleaning up the plates and utensils on my table so that the server won’t have to do much work, teaching a stranger the COVID safety protocols before entering an establishment if they look confused, etc.
Would you pick up a hitchhiker if they seemed harmless? Probably not.
When playing a sport, are you more focused on winning or having fun? Winning, which I know doesn’t make me the best person to play with so I prefer to watch by the sidelines anyway. I do have fun playing table tennis though :)
Who's the last person who gave you a piggy back ride? Gabie.
Who's the last person that you gave a piggy back ride? I’m lighter than everyone else I know so I’ve never given one.
Rock, paper, or scissors? I switch it up every time.
Would you be bothered if your boyfriend liked to bite you? No. I liked lightly biting my ex as a show of affection and just to get her attention whenever I wanted to be playful.
Are you any good at dancing? No. I’m good at memorizing routines, but could never do them on my own.
Even if you aren't, do you like to dance? Only by myself.
What makes you feel the most 'alive'? New places and new experiences.
Whose conversations do you appreciate the most? Angela and Hans.
Is there anyone's advice you value enough to take against your own judgment? Gabie. At least in the past.
How often do you get the opportunity to be completely alone? Very seldom, which is why I try to give it to myself every weekend as a reward.
Do you like being alone or does it drive you crazy? I appreciate if I’ve been around people for too long, but I also shouldn’t have too much of it.
Do you have a trampoline? No.
Do you get nervous when driving in convertibles, knowing that if you flipped, you'd be screwed? I’ve never had this concern because I’ve never driven in one.
What's your favorite Pixar movie? Toy Story, of course.
Are you capable of successfully lying to someone you love? I guess, but I’ll hate doing it.
Who do you adore? Angela’s mom.
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pandas-pandemonium · 4 years
Text
Per Sempre Insieme - Chapter 2
Pairings: Yandere! Team Buccellati x Fem!Reader
Warnings (in this chapter): None really, maybe mentions of killing?
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, coming soon
2.1k words
When you finally came to, you were lying on a velvet sofa, hands bound with a rope. Thankfully though, whoever it was who did this to you was merciful enough to leave your legs untied. You shifted around a bit before letting your eyes take in your surroundings. It appeared to be an office, as right in front of you, just a little distance away, was a large desk with a chair to accompany it and just opposite you, was another large sofa, with a coffee table in the middle. Behind the desk, was a large window, with matching velvet red curtains to frame it. What caught your eye though, was the golden name plate on the desk, just beside a sleeping turtle that was either for decoration, or an actual pet. The name plate stated, in embossed gold font, the name, Giorno Giovanna, a name that sounded both familiar and unfamiliar to you.
While you were taking in the sights, you barely noticed the wooden door at the end of the room creak open, a tall, blonde boy around your age walking in. His hair was the first thing that caught your attention, the three donut-shaped curls above his forehead, followed by a long braid. Behind him was a slightly taller man sporting a short bob, with gold hair pins on his head. The colour gold seemed quite prominent so far, you noticed.
“Ah, I see you’ve awaken,” the blonde man said, walking up to you. You immediately shrunk back on the sofa, your [E/C] eyes glaring at the man in front of you.
“Are you the one who ordered those people to kidnap me?” you demanded, your fists were clenched tight, as you tried not to cower. Something about the blonde in front of you commanded respect and oozed charisma.
“I apologize, I didn’t think they’d be so rough. But I really did want to meet you. It’s been a while since I’ve seen another stand user out of the headquarters,” he said. His blue irises then trailed towards your arms before realisation entered his eyes. “Oh! So sorry about that. Let me loosen your restraints first, and then we can have a proper introduction. I’d hate to have to talk to a possible recruit like she’s a captive, after all.”
After you were free of your bindings, you immediately stood up, your posture guarded as you analyzed your “captor” closely.
“So you’re Giorno, the don of Passione? Why did you bring me here?” you demanded again. If the man in front of you wanted to get friendly, you had to decline. The fact that you were literally brought here after that lady did who-knows-what to you was enough to put you on high alert.
The blonde boy only laughed and put his hands up in a gesture to assure you he meant no harm.
“How about we all sit down over some drinks first? Our talk may be a little lengthy, and I’m certain you don’t want to be standing all the time,” he said. As he spoke, the other black-haired man beside him had opened the door, speaking a few words to an unknown individual before coming back to join the two of you.
“I have asked one of our soldiers to bring a variety of beverages, I hope at least something will be of your taste,” he said, addressing you to your surprise.
“Very well then, I guess we can…talk,” you said, seating yourself back down on the very same sofa.
The blonde began to speak as he sat himself opposite you, the other man following suit.
“Now, where were we? Ah right, introductions,” the blonde said and smiled, standing up a little to offer you his hand to shake. “Giorno Giovanna, Don of Passione. Nice to meet you. The man beside me is my most trusted friend and advisor, Bruno Buccellati,” You almost wanted to scoff, after all, there was no need for his introduction considering his name plaque was displayed on the desk at the back for all to see. Though at least you could put a name to the other man’s face. However, you chose to shake his hand anyways, seeing no reason to antagonize such a powerful figure.
“Y/N Pellerini,” you said, and sat back down. Giorno seemed pleased with your acceptance of his handshake as he smiled a little.
“Well, now that introductions are out of the way. I suppose I should answer the question as to why I asked my men to bring you here.” He paused as a man hurried in, a tray of bottles and cans in hand. As silently as he could, the man set the silver tray down, stood up and bowed before hurrying out the room. “Firstly, what drink would like, Signora Y/N?”
You swallowed your saliva as you scanned your options; you were pretty parched. The tray had cider, wine, vodka, champagne, sparkling juice, sodas and a tall glass bottle of water. At the side, three cups filled with ice had been set beside it.
“I’ll just take some water,” you replied. Maybe if you were feeling more comfortable you would have chosen something sweeter, but water seemed the most appealing at the moment. Bruno nodded and reached for the bottle of water, filling a glass and handed it to you.
“Enjoy your drink, signora,” he said. He kept his replies short, but you noticed he seemed to be watching you cautiously. Who wouldn’t? After all, you were some unknown hitman who got kidnapped and brought in to his boss’s office all because you could have potential to join the gang. You muttered a soft thank you as you accepted the cup, sipping slowly on the iced water, feeling much more refreshed afterwards.
After making sure you seemed a little less tense, Giorno spoke again.
“Once more, I do apologise for having to bring you here by force, but according to Acquario, you were willing to put up a fight.” You scoffed.
“As if. He used his stand on me and left me stuck in the concrete even after I revealed that my stand is not a power type! Not only that, his partner did something, I don’t know what, to bring me here unconscious,” you retorted, a small bubble of frustration welling up in your chest. Giorno only nodded wordlessly.
“So, your stand is not a power or offense-based, is it?” the don asked. You paused before nodding. Silently, you hoped that maybe he would see no reason to keep you and send you off on your merry way. The last thing you wanted to do was be tied down to the mafia after all. You had your own goals in mind.
Bruno raised an eyebrow, “I find that hard to believe. After all, if a stand user is creative enough, any stand can be used in a fight,” he said. You frowned a little. Was he implying that you weren’t a creative person or something?
“I-it’s not that! I just never had any reason to use it to kill or hurt someone,” you defended. Bruno only hummed under his breath.
“You don’t have to worry, Y/N. I’m sure you’ll eventually find out ways to use your stand once you’ve joined us,” Giorno spoke up. “Would you show us your stand please, we would like to know what yours is.”
“I haven’t agreed to joining your gang yet, Giorno. What makes you think I will reveal my stand to you and explain its powers nonetheless?” you asked, arms crossed over your chest. The blonde male glanced to his friend before receiving a nod in response.
“Then perhaps you would trust us more if I revealed my stand?” He asked. In a flash, a golden spirit emerged from his body, staring you down intensely. “This is Gold Experience Requiem, and it has the ability to create life, basically. It can also revert my opponent’s actions to zero, making it seem like it never happened. This is my stand, now will you show yours?”
You swallowed, examining the golden-brown stand carefully. If your memory served you right, this would be stand that killed the previous don of Passione. You didn’t know the full details, but you were certain it was a formidable stand. It frightened you to think of the possibility of being attacked by such a stand. Silently, you nodded, agreeing to reveal your stand, letting the light gold spirit emerge from your body.
The butler-like stand stood straight before turning to the empty space beside it, a doorknob followed by a full door revealing itself. You glanced at your stand before nodding, giving it the signal to pull open the door, revealing a fully furnished mansion lobby inside.
“This is one of the abilities of my stand, Soul’s Mansion. With this ability, I don’t need a room or anything, as I can freely enter the mansion where ever I am. However, only I as the host, can enter this mansion physically, as other living beings will only be able to enter as souls, leaving their physical body behind,” you explained. The two men in front of you nodded.
“I see, so if you hadn’t come back to the same alley that night we probably wouldn’t have managed to find you then,” Giorno said, examining Soul’s Mansion. The spirit stared blankly into the distance, before you gave it the instruction to close the door back, said door vanishing into the air immediately.
“I guess…it was a mistake on my part…I should have changed my spot for the day,” you said bitterly. Giorno laughed a little.
“No, it was a good miscalculation. If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to meet you. [Y/N] Pellerini, I think you’d be a great addition to Passione. Now, we should probably decide under whose guidance you should go under—”
You cut him off. “Hold on, I haven’t even agreed to join you guys yet! What’s in it for me, anyways? From what I can tell, my being here will only benefit your goals, Giorno,” you said, giving the blonde a sharp look. Giorno hummed, tapping a finger on his face as he thought about your question.
“Well, I suppose I should first ask you this; what were you doing hiding out in an alley in the streets of Napoli?” the don asked, his head resting in his hand as he looked at you intently.
“For a mission, plus it was near a favourite restaurant of mine, and I needed a place that wasn’t too far or near my target’s house,” you said.
“So, you are a hired hitman then?” Bruno asked, to which you nodded.
“It’s a job that pays well, depending on the client. Plus, I have my own goal to achieve; being a hitman allows me to achieve that goal,” you explained. Giorno nodded understandingly.
“I see, and that goal is?” he asked.
“To find my sister’s killer and avenge her,” you stated, your gaze hardened like steel. A hint of sympathy entered Bruno’s eyes.
“I see, if that’s the case, I’m certain joining us would allow you to gain that information,” the dark-haired man said, a soft smile on his face. You raised an eyebrow.
“How?”
“Well, for starters, you could join Capo Abbacchio’s team which mainly takes charge of finding information, or you could simply work alongside them. Unlike the previous don that unencouraged communication between the different groups, I allow certain groups that could be essential to each other to communicate and share information. Besides, some of the capos of the groups are my friends,” Giorno said.
You took in the information silently. Giorno had a point, if you were going to find out who killed your sister, joining a gang that basically has such a wide range of control and influence would be your best shot.
“Very well then, I suppose I will join. Is there any contract or ritual I need to do?” you asked, to which Giorno smiled and shook his head.
“No, you’re a special case. Though upon joining, we only ask that you pledge your everlasting loyalty to me, and Passione as a whole. Should you betray the gang, or even any of the members, you will be surely taken care of,” he said. As he said it, despite the verbal contract, you could sense the threat behind his words, causing a shiver up your back. The new don may be young, but he was definitely not one to be taken lightly.
“Understood. I, [Y/N] Pellerini, pledge loyalty to you, Giorno Giovanna, Don of Passione, and to its members as a whole. Should I be caught in the act of betraying the gang, I duly and wholeheartedly accept my punishment,” you said, kneeling before the blonde, taking his hand in yours.
With that, your heart and loyalty were given, and it’s to be noted that words carry weight. If only you had reconsidered your decision to join the gang, then maybe your oath wouldn’t have become such a burden.
A/N: Wow, I didn’t think I would get chapter 2 out so fast lol. Also, just telling you guys, the yandere is gonna be a reaaaalll slow burn. I want to give time for the reader to establish relationships and then I’ll start cranking the yandere meter. For now, have this slowww introduction lol. It’s gonna last at least 3 to 4 chapters for reader to have proper meetings and establish relations with all our boys. 
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