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#the „wipe that smile of your face“ scene lives in my head rent free
phoenixgreen · 2 years
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seoafin · 1 year
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how does poly rip!verse geto fuck? i keep thinking about your horny aggression post and of geto coming back to take rip!mc against the counter and stealing her panties in uhhhhhhhh one of your fics (i've reread them all so many times now i cant actually remember which one the scene just lives in my head rent free) so! just wondering! about geto bc i feel like gojo has gotten his fair share already lmao (though i love them both). hope you're doing well!! i'm probably gonna read hell's paradise bc of you soon also!
a a a aa a a a a
idk if this makes sense but while gojo is more playful geto is more of a tease!!! and a liar. he lies so much ("just one, I promise") and he does it all with a smile you fall for every single time. then he'll wait for you to abashedly lift up your skirt or dress to flash him the panties he and gojo picked out for you to wear hours earlier. but it's never just one, and most times, the night's over before it ever really began, with you on your knees, your face pressed to a pillow while geto takes you apart with his fingers and tongue until you're all strung out and thinking only of him. i know a lot of people attribute orgasm denial to geto and i agree to an extent that it's just enough to get you pleading but also i think stsg are both very indulgent with you to a fault. they just can't deny you, especially when you're the one asking, especially since you never really ask for anything. i do think geto tends to use humiliation and when he's jealous he's ruthless with it. and im talking unspeakable acts so absolutely [redacted] that you can't meet anyone's eye in the morning 😭😭😭 he's soooooooo 😭���😭😭 like i said before i think once gojo finally goads geto into being more open with his desires (towards you) it's no holds barred. he is a nasty freak and so totally unrepentant about it (just like a certain someone else).
ALSO i think geto's more of an exhibitionist than gojo. i think full exhibitionisim is a hard no for the both of them but also geto's not above making you get on your knees in a public bathroom and take care of him. with geto you always get some sort of comfort and kindness and reassurance before he's fucking you to incoherence. i think he's fond of cupping your face, brushing your cheek with his knuckles, or pecking you on the cheek, and it's seemingly sweet!!!! but you've long learned to associate it as a warning lmfao he's also very very fond of bringing you to tears and being the one to wipe them away. if gojo is a blunt force geto is a wheedling whisper. somehow you'll find yourself doing things you've never thought you'd be doing if geto hadn't nicely innocently asked. and his requests are always vague enough that when you find yourself agreeing (he just asked for some help later!), the deal is always sealed with a smile (you've signed your death warrant)
you can always worm your way out of satoru's own requests by not taking him seriously (like when he asked you to wear a maid costume) and he's so shameless about it that it's easy, but geto makes it...so much harder to refuse him. especially when he looks so sad. he's so evil 😭 the two of them fully take advantage of this and routinely use this method to get their way. absolutely horrible!!!!
in the end i think geto is probably somewhat aware of the fact that you bring out all of their (gojo included) worst impulses while gojo just accepts it as a natural byproduct of their love. all in all i think stsg keep each other in check when it comes to their overwhelming need to...smother you 💀
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Looking for a Place to Happen
Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity.
This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.
Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely
Note: We’re starting Sam’s installment but this weekend I’ll probably only be catching up on my headcanons and drabbles because I’ve been a lazy bitch and I’m sorry to those who have been waiting.
Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
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Chapter 1: I've got a job, I explore
💀💀💀
The sleepy town of Birch was awake. 
In those last weeks, the arrival of outsiders had roused the attention of many once passive residents of the timeless territory. Those brick buildings unchanged by the tick of the clock inlaid into the old tower above the library that chimed every hour on the hour. They still stood with only chips in the mortar but the air tasted different. The frost was more bitter and the sky more grim. An omen of something no one could predict.
It was the perfect setting for a screenplay. The isolated town with its unsavoury secrets and the visitors who threatened to bring them to the surface. It was inspiring to you, to imagine what was hidden behind the stern wrinkled faces of the town elders and under the jackets of those men who wore the cut of the local club. The bikers ruled the town covertly but everyone knew that Bucky Barnes’ palm was lined with the map of Birch.
As a bystander, an unnoticed observer, just another ant in the hill, you watched from the side and amused yourself with the drama of others. It was like a soap opera or another HBO hype machine. Those things you aspired to when you could be free of this ho-hum town.
The snows added to the natural gloom of the place. The deep heaps smothered the noise and harkened back to those days of colonial settlement. Forgotten, desolate, fearful. 
You ventured down in your heavy boots that stretched to your knees and pushed your chin down into your scarf. As a child, you ran and jumped in those piles, now you were out of breath just trying to walk past them.
You stopped in the bakery that doubled as the only café, a place where the owner, Babs, tried to to intimidate the last caffeinated trends. She was always a few seasons behind but you didn’t mind so much. 
You ordered the salted caramel mocha and waited patiently as the quiet woman fought with the steaming machines. She was older than you but you’d work with her for one summer during high school, only five years ago. She had the eyes of a child still, but there was something worn in her. As if she’d been exposed to far too much in her three or so decades in that place. She was a harbinger of what you didn’t want to become.
You thanked her for your drink and set out once more into the billowing winds. Birch winters were never kind but this one was crueler than most. Your teeth chattered as you blew the steam away from the lid and hugged it with your mittened hands.
You stopped short as you heard the familiar ding of the diner door across the street. You recognised the mechanic who kept to herself and once growled at you in the grocery store. She stormed across the street, followed closely and quickly by a black-haired man you’d only seen once before. He was one of those outsiders who came to deal with the club men.
You sped up as you sensed chaos brewing and pulled out your phone as you balanced your paper cup in your other hand. You flicked your camera on just as you got to the front of the shop and the man grabbed the mechanic. You let out an ‘oop’ as she turned on him and you aimed the lens at the couple as they fell into the snow, the man’s shoes giving little traction to his steps. 
You moved closer, stunned by the scene, and kept your cell phone rolling as you found a better angle around the snowy walks. As she choked him on the ground he elbowed her and she coughed as she rolled away. She snarled as he clamoured to his feet, slipping and sliding as he marched away.
You killed the recording and watched the man cross the street again, nearly wiping out as he did and when you looked back to the mechanic, she was gone behind the clattering door. You chuckled to yourself and tucked away your cell. It was prime footage for TikTok; with a bit of editing, it would be comedy gold.
💀
You stomped up the steps of your grandmother’s house, this time through the front door as you heard her chair rocking in the front room. You usually took the stairs in the back as you paid her to live on the upper floor of the duplex. You checked in with her daily, she didn’t get out much more than the occasional trip to the grocery store when you couldn’t or you dragged her out to join you for a tea at Babs’.
“You’re late,” she grumbled as you set your cup down and unzipped your coat.
“For what?” you scoffed.
“It’s after noon and you don’t even come down to say hello? A ‘good morning, nan’,” she harrumphed.
You chuckled and hung your coat before shoving your boots over on the mat. You grabbed your mocha and leaned on the doorway as you watched her crocheting in her chair, reruns of some court show playing from the boxy television.
“I was working,” you said, “sent in some stuff for review. Hopefully not much work to be done.”
“I don’t know how you make money on that interweb,” she bemoaned, “I don’t trust it.”
“Maybe you’d trust it more if you used the Netflix subscription I got you,” you crossed your arms, “then you wouldn’t have to watch trash daytime TV.”
She shrugged and muttered under her breath. She could be crotchety but you liked her sense of humour. Your aunts and uncles never came around because they just took it as spite. You were the only one who knew how to handle the jaded old lady.
“Maybe you coulda looked out the window,” you snickered, “quite a show going on in town.”
“Hmm, what’s that?” she stilled her needles and reached for her tea stained cup.
“Just a fight. You wouldn’t believe it, that lady mechanic beat the shit--”
“Language,” she huffed.
“Anyway, she had this guy in a chokehold. It was awesome.”
“What guy?” she squinted at you over her glasses.
“I dunno. Some out of towner. Remember I told you about that burly dude hanging around the library?”
“There’s more?” she sucked on her teeth, “those bikers have never been good news and now they’re bringing in more.”
“Yeah, well, what’re you gonna do?” you sniffed as you took out your phone and rewatched the scuffle with the volume down. You shook your head and opened up your TikTok. 
“I don’t understand why you’re always on your dang phone,” your grandmother pestered.
“I’m not always on my phone,” you smiled at her smugly, “there are those time when I’m listening to you prattle on or you know, making you tea, oh, and cooking you dinner. What was it I did last week? Oh that’s right, I got Pippin out of the crawlspace.”
“I’m too old to be chasin’ that cat all around,” she huffed, “where is he anyway?”
“He’s your cat, I don’t know? Last time I saw him, I sent him back out the window for shredding my charger.”
“He knows you need to give it a rest,” she laughed to herself, “got your nose to that screen too much.”
“And what do you do, old lady? Crocheting doilies to put where exactly?”
She gave you that dry smile, the one that said watch it but carried a hint of humour still. You hit post and put your phone away as you waved off her irritation.
“Well, you know what, I sit all day at my computer, doing who knows what and you know what it got me?” you taunted, “a large mocha!” you sipped as you sat on the sofa and grabbed the remote, “and it’s paying my rent and putting bullet points on my resume.”
“Mhmm,” she scowled, “just remember, real life ain’t online. Those videos you’re always laughing at like hyena, that’s not reality. You forget it and it’ll come back and bit you. ‘Specially with those bikers.”
“Oh, nan, you know too well, don’t you? Didn’t you have a fling with one back in your hippie phase?”
“Two, actually,” she raised her brows, “I was young and stupid. Not like you, but still.”
“I love you too,” you chirped and sipped from your cup, flicking the station to Jerry Springer, “that’s more like it.”
💀
Your usual TikToks were sarcastic and dull complaints about your small town life. The response was less than pleasing but it gave you an outlet to vent. You liked to goof around and document the very specific type of weirdos that resided in Birch. But the video of the fight in the snow blew up your phone and made it difficult to ignore the buzzing as you went back up to your room to eke out the last of your captions for the ad agency.
When at last you could call your day hard-earned, you logged off and sent in your hours to the agency. Social media promotion was easy enough but the working gigs for a thousand different companies was tedious. You hoped you could build your portfolio enough to manage a single corporate page as you continued to chip away at your creative outlets.
You picked up your phone as you waited for Netflix to load on your tiny smart tv and flopped onto your bed, not two feet from your desk. You hit the icon in the upper panel of your phone and scrolled through the notifications, pausing to turn on another episode of the cable sitcom from ten years before. You snorted as you read each comment but the number under the video made your eyes round. The thing was bound to go viral.
As usual, you went down to help with supper. Pippin, the orange tabby, returned to cry at his dish and you fed him too. Your nan peered through her glasses at a crossword as she tasted the tangy pasta sauce. 
“More basil,” she snipped.
“Well, I asked if you wanted to help,” you muttered, “I think it’s good.”
“Hmmp, I need milk,” she jutted her chin out, “for my after-dinner tea.”
“You couldn’t say something like three hours ago?” you blinked.
“I could have but I didn’t,” she snickered. You rolled your eyes and she took another forkful of penne and filled in another line on her puzzle, “ah, no hurry, girlie, you know I’m patient.”
“Patient? You?” you chuckled as you took your plate and shoved it in the microwave to keep it warm. The ancient thing had a dial and the door stuck, “I’ll just go get it over with.”
“Don’t forget your mitts,” she called after you as you tramped into the front room, “it’s cold.”
You pulled on your knitted cap and matching mitts. You zipped up your parka and shoved your feet into the deep boots. You grabbed your wallet and buried it in the spacious pocket. You bounced out the front door and down the steps as the sky sent down another coat of powder for the night.
You went up White Forge Street and through the short path behind the diner that led to the main road. You glanced over at The Asp, the beacon of the dull town, and turned towards the grocer. Like anywhere in Birch, the store was outdated and stuffy. It felt like stepping into another time with the paper bags and chunky tills.
You went down the center aisle and stopped at the fridge to search through the frosted glass. Your nan only drank whole milk and the last time you carelessly grabbed skim, she whined that even Pippin wouldn’t drink it. She was particular but that was just her nature. You couldn’t say you were any less fussy in some instances.
You grabbed a jug and the door slapped closed against the worn rubber seal. You headed up the candy aisle and brushed your woolly thumb over your chin as you considered gummy bears or Reeses’ Pieces.
“Hard choice?” The deep voice jolted you.
You snatched the box of chocolate and looked over at the man in leather, his chin tucked down behind the collar as snow dusted his shoulders.
“Sure,” you said as you brushed past him.
The cut of the leather told you he was better not entertained. While you thought the men amusing, you weren’t stupid enough to engage with them. You rarely listened to your grandmother but she was wise in her own way. 
You knew a girl in highschool, she was fucking around with one of the club men in her junior year, she ended up with a baby and no support. You didn’t think he was into you that way but he could hardly have innocent intentions.
“How’s the old lady?” Clayton asked as he rung in your order at the end of the belt, you moved along with the groceries and pulled out your wallet.
“The usual, you know? She’s tryna quit again. Don’t know how long it’ll last.”
“Oh yeah? I’ll keep a carton aside for her,” he kidded as you felt your phone vibing in your back pocket.
“Don’t encourage her,” you swiped your card and punched in your pin, “although I don’t know what’s worse; the smoke or her sucking on those mints all the time.”
“Oh, it’s not the bitchin’?” he laughed.
“That, too,” you scooped up the paper bag and put your wallet away, “have a good one.”
As you came to the end of the first counter, you were nearly cut off by the club member as he swept around from till two. His own purchase of a car magazine and jerky was tucked under his arm.
“Ah, sorry,” he smiled, a sparkling smile, almost charming.
“No worries,” you continued on and he followed close behind.
“Those mitts look real warm. ‘Specially in this weather,” he said as you pushed open the door.
“Uh huh,” you kept on as your boots crunched out into the snow.
“You know where I can get a pair. Leather isn’t exactly thermal, you know?”
“These? My nan made ‘em. I’m sure Clayton got some hung up back there,” you looked across the street as you stepped up onto the ledge of snow between the sidewalk and the road.
“Am I bothering you?” he asked.
You looked at him dumbly and almost laughed in his face. You glanced back across the street then down towards The Asp.
“Sorta,” you answered.
“Make you a deal. Leave ya alone for your name.”
You eyed him. He was older than you like many of the Commandos. At least a decade, likely more than that. You chewed on your hesitation and cradled the bag more firmly against your side. His eyes strayed as he tried to see through the thick layer of your coat.
“Nah, I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers,” you said and hopped off onto the road.
You heard him behind you as he struggled to follow and as you came up to the other side, he came parallel with you and kept stride with you easily.
“I know you’re young but you’re not a kid,” he intoned, “what’s the harm in a name?”
“It’s a small town,” you stopped short of the end of White Forge, “I think I know enough about you to avoid you.”
“Oh ho, is that it? Well, I’m Sam, I’m not a stranger now, am I?”
“Not interested, Sam. Sure there’s women your own age over at the bar,” you nodded behind him.
“You wanna come see? Maybe have a drink?” he gave a crooked grin.
“You don’t give up, do you?” you shook your head, put off by his forwardness.
“Well?”
“Not tonight, Sam,” you turned around and headed down White Forge.
“Then what night?” he asked but you didn’t answer and he didn’t follow.
You turned down onto your street and refused to look back in case. It would be best not to mention the run-in to your nan, she was paranoid enough as it was. Besides, you’d forget about it by the end of next week.
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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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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 3 years
Text
The Last Chthonian
Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader
Part 1
Author’s Note: Had this idea living in my head rent free so hopefully I don’t butcher it.
Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity, and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside, until a certain trio appear at your doorstep one day.
Warnings: language
Part 1 , Part 2
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“So, where are we going again?” Bucky asked Sam, confusion written on his face as he leaned back in the front passenger seat of the car.
“You’ll find out. We’ll be there soon.” Sam answered, his eyes glued to the road and hands gripping the wheel.
“But we’ve been driving in the middle of nowhere for an hour now.” Bucky fussed while staring at the never ending green grass that passed by, clearly irritated with Sam’s lack of details.
“I too would like to know where we are going.” Zemo spoke up only to add to Sam’s annoyance.
“YOU don’t get to ask questions.” Sam glared at Zemo through the rear view mirror before staring back at the road. He was starting to get fed up with their questions and lack of patience.
The three men had been driving with their windows down for what felt like hours through the Scottish countryside, watching the green highlands pass by. Though they admired the beauty of the landscape, they were extremely anxious to stretch their legs and get to their unknown destination. Not to mention, they were starting to get a little hungry as well.
“Are we there yet?” Bucky broke the silence after some time.
“We get there when we get there.” Sam snapped, his knuckles turning white from gripping the wheel a bit too hard. He was really looking forward to getting out of the car and away from those two.
After a short while they neared a small seaside village. The place was not that busy, save for the few locals and fishermen going about the cloudy day.
Sam drove on a little further before finally reaching a quaint stone cottage that sat on a hill at the edge of town, overlooking the ocean. He pulled up next to the 60s convertible cream colored Volkswagen Beetle that had a surfboard tied on the roof, parked next to the cottage. Sam took the keys out of the ignition and stepped out, stretching his legs as the others followed suit.
Sam smiled to himself as he walked up the path leading to the front door and glanced upon the flower garden and the decorations out front. He knew for sure this was your place. The other two quietly followed behind while looking around the residence, from the neatly kept garden and the vines that crawled along the house, to the fishing equipment hung up on the side, down to the handmade birdhouses and the wind chimes and sun-catchers that clinked melodically against the ocean breeze, including the collection of garden gnomes. The place reminded the men something straight out of Jane Austen’s novels, not that they’d like to admit they knew such a thing.
Sam stopped at the front door before turning to the others with a pointed finger. “Now whatever you do, don’t stare.”
“Wait what?” Bucky scrunched his nose.
“Just don’t.”
Sam paused for a moment, thinking of how to explain this situation to you before tapping on the wooden door. No answer. Sam could feel Bucky glaring at the back of his head, ready to scold him about how this was a big waste of time. So he knocked again, this time calling out if any one was home.
Before Bucky could open his mouth there was rustling coming from inside and the sound of someone knocking into furniture before a faint “ow” and “fuck” of a woman’s voice made Bucky and Zemo glance questioningly at each other. Where the hell did Sam lead them to?
The locks on the door were fumbled with before opening up to reveal your head poking out from behind.
“Sam?” You breathed out. You were slightly out of breath and your hair was disheveled with strands falling out of your bun at the front from under your silk scarf. The sleeves of your button up blouse were rolled up at your elbows, revealing your dirt covered arms. You were working on your vegetable garden in the back before you were interrupted by your unexpected visitors.
Bucky stood behind Sam and couldn’t help but widen his eyes when he saw you. He only met you a few times during the threat of Thanos and before, but the interactions he had with you were very brief. All he knew was that you were a good friend of the Avengers, especially Thor, Clint, Nat, Wanda, Tony and Steve and now apparently Sam. But after Thanos was defeated you disappeared and nothing was heard of you since.
Zemo glanced out from behind Bucky and tried to remain hidden behind the super soldier once he recognized your face. You weren’t exactly an Avenger and you weren’t on Earth when he tore the Avengers apart, you were helping Thor at the time and little to everyone’s knowledge, you were also defending your planet against an inside threat. But you had heard of him through your friends, and though you hadn’t met him, Zemo knew you would strangle him once you spotted him.
“Hey y/n.” Sam smiled at you, calling you by your alias name. He knew who you were through Steve, but even then, he didn’t know everything about you and about the recent events that took place in your home planet that still devastated you.
“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked with a mixture of surprise and annoyance, wiping your hands on your apron. There was a reason you chose to live all the way out here, and though you gave Sam your new address, you didn’t expect him to bring company.
“I came to see how you were doing?”
“Bullshit.” You scowled, crossing your arms over your chest. “If you wanted to check up on me you wouldn’t have brought someone.”
Sam opened his mouth to speak but decided against it, refused to meet your stern eyes and looking down at the ground instead with his hands in his pockets. He often forgot how well you were able to read people, almost as if you were telepathic. Little to his knowing, you were in fact a telepath but decided against telling him. You’ve known people who became uncomfortable when finding that detail about you and noticed how they tried to avoid you, constantly guarding their thoughts when around. If only they knew you never bothered to do such a thing because you respected their privacy and because you’ve seen things in people’s heads you wished to forget. You’ve only ever used your telepathy when it was absolutely necessary. Straightening up, you finally took a better look at the other man behind him and instantly recognized him as Bucky.
“Barnes?”
“Hi y/n.” Bucky smiled shyly at you as he looked into your eyes. And that’s when he noticed for the first time that your eyes were different from when he last saw you. Your irises were now a shade of purples and blues with flecks of gold that spread out, a reflection of the stars and the universe. So that’s what Sam meant when he said to not stare. But could you have just been wearing contacts? Bucky’s stare was cut short as Sam noticed, glaring at him and clearing his throat before elbowing him in the stomach.
Suddenly, there came the sound of a little girls squeals coming from inside your home, startling the men except for Sam. And before they knew it, a small girl in overalls who looked to be of 6 years of age sprinted through your legs and out the door. “Uncle Sam!”
“Oof! Athena wait!” You gasped against the impact as you tried to reach for her.
“Hey hey little Athena!” Sam smiled as he picked the excited girl up into his arms before setting her on his hip. “How’s my favorite little warrior?”
“I’m helping Mommy with the garden! See!” She squealed in delight before showing off her dirty hands.
“I can see that.” Sam chuckled. “Looks like you’ve been working hard.”
“God, I’m so sorry Sam. She’s covered in dirt.” You tried to apologize with an embarrassed face.
“Hey no worries.” Sam smiled at you. “Some dirt is not gonna kill me.”
“Mommy who’s this?” Athena questioned as she looked at the man next to Sam.
You looked at Bucky and gave him a look that questioned what name he would prefer, to which he nodded and mouthed Bucky to you.
“That’s Bucky sweetie.”
“Hi Bucky! I’m Athena!” She stuck her tiny hand out to for him to shake, a big grin plastered on her face from meeting new people.
“It’s very nice to meet you Athena.” Bucky smiled as he gently shook her hand, making her giggle.
The scene made you smile to yourself as you pushed a strand of your hair behind your ears. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that Sam and Bucky decided to pay a visit.
“Mommy who’s the man in the back?”
The man in the back? You looked to Sam and James with a raised brow before craning your neck to see who the third guest could be, only to tense up and clutch the door frame, forcing yourself to not go over there right now and throw him off a cliff.
“What the hell is he doing here?” You glared daggers at Zemo as he watched you with caution, before you turned to Sam.
“I can explain.” Sam tightened his jaw as he saw your expression.
“Athena, sweetie.” You turned to your daughter with a gentle smile. “I want you to go up to your room and clean up okay?”
“Okay mommy.” Athena looked back at you with a worried look as Sam set her down.
You caressed her head as she walked in, watching her go up the stairs and waiting for the sound of her bedroom door to close and her shower to turn on before shutting the front door behind you.
“Are you out of your goddamn minds?” You glared at the two, trying to not yell, your fists balling up in anger. “What in the three hells is going on?”
“Look y/n. He might be of some use.” Sam tried to explain.
“So you broke him out of prison?!”
“Well technically he got himself out.” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. He was starting to think that this wasn’t such a good idea and felt guilty for coming here.
“Oh? So what? He magically decides to join your little boy band? The Wakandans are after his ass in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Look I get it. Working with Zemo sounds like a terrible idea and you have every right to be upset. We just need a place to lay low for now. Just...hear us out.” Sam responded with a pleading look.
You stood there with a hand on your hip, squeezing your eyes shut while you pinched the bridge of your nose, not even caring that you still had dirt on your hands.
“Please y/n.” Bucky spoke up, making you look up at him. “Sam wouldn’t come here if he didn’t know what he was doing.”
You looked between the two, rubbing your chin in contemplation as you thought everything over. Bucky was right. Sam would never try to purposely put you in harm’s way.
“Fine.” You breathed out. “You can stay for the night. But you are going to tell me everything. Every last detail.”
“I promise.” Sam looked to you as he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.
“Well come on then. Get in.” You nodded your head towards the door as you opened it, letting Bucky and Sam in before putting yourself in front of Zemo and blocking him with a threatening look while speaking in a cold tone. “I swear to the gods, if you so much as try anything, I will bury you alive in my backyard and use you as fertilizer to grow fungi.”
“Y/n what the fuck.” You heard Sam utter from inside.
Zemo gave you a bewildered look and decided to keep quiet as you stepped aside to let him in, watching him closely as he went in. You stuck your head outside again, looking around for any bystanders and making sure the men were preoccupied before muttering something in Ancient Greek, waving your hand around and moving your fingers in specific gestures as a clear glass like film covered the area around your home for protection. You did another once over before going back in and closing the front door, readying yourself for the conversation you would have with Sam and Bucky.
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boytouya · 3 years
Text
𝘼 𝘽𝙤𝙮 𝙄𝙨 𝘼 𝙂𝙪𝙣*
words: 1.2k
request: ‘Hey!! I hope requests are still open but 👉👈 I was wondering if I could request a Megumi x Male!Reader fic where the reader has a secret crush on him, but yuuji or nobara find out on accident and try and get the reader to just 'ask him out already' (this idea been living in my head rent free all day) Also! could I be the 🍰 anon?’
a/n: i don’t know if you’re the same anon who already asked to be the 🍰 emoji but if not i’m so sorry! i can add something before or after the cake if you’d like(:
warnings: None!
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You were not in love. Megumi was not the first thing you thought of when you woke up. He certainly didn’t have your brain delaying three seconds behind your mouth. You didn’t misspeak around him once. Not once had his long, naturally curled eyelashes coke across your mind. The way he’d furrow his eyebrows and form a gentle crease in his forehead? All news to you. Simply because you didn’t like him.
You didn’t know his patterns because you liked him. You knew because he was always there. Always in your life, whether he’s lugging behind Nobara and Yuuji or heading off to bed in all black pajamas. He was a constant in your life, and perhaps one of the most stable things in it. But that didn’t mean you liked him, per say.
A better word would be admire.
Yes, that’s right. You admired his bravery and strength, just as you admired his facial features from afar. Though he was still young, Megumi acted much more mature than his peers. He’d have moments where excitement would seep through the cracks, he’d smile ever so slightly and the glossiness of his bottom lip would catch sunlight through green trees. You admired him as if he were a painting. You could look, but you could never touch. You didn’t like him, but holding his hand didn’t sound so bad.
He embodied Atlas in himself, holding up his world with tired arms and straining muscles. It was clear he deserved better than what he had gotten, but he wouldn’t really be himself if it weren’t for Gojo. Mentally, you thank him for that. You thank him for holding the Earth when Megumi wears too thin to do it himself. Their balance is equal, truthfully you’re a bit envious. Not because you like him, but because you want to help.
You want to help in the way Yuuji does, like when he laughs straight into Megumi’s ear and takes photos to remember the moment. The room grows noticeably brighter, and although Megumi is one of the darker characters in the room, he carries the Sun on his back. Perhaps instead of Earth he’s lifting Yuuji and Nobara, who seem to revolve around him. It doesn’t strike you with jealousy, it smites you with longing. You yearn to be as close as them. Not because you like him.
“You like Megumi?!” Yuuji shouts, raising his hands into the air as he lifts himself from his seat. Leaves fall along the pavement of the train station, sticking to the base of his shoes. People in Japan are quite good at minding their business, but it doesn’t stop a few subtle glares in his direction. The train has just enough walking space, Lunch Rush has just finished so less people were making their way inside. The open space doesn’t stop him from smacking his hand against the railing though. He hisses, shaking his hand and turning to Nobara before whispering, “I knew it! You owe me!”
Unfortunately, Megumi couldn’t join you on your expedition to Sendai. You still wanted to buy him something, just so he wouldn’t feel left out. That was all. You swear, that was all. You had no idea how he found out, you just have murmured something that his scary accurate ears picked up.
Nobara makes a sour face, shaking her head, “Fushiguro? Say something to him!” Her hair follows in her movement, disrupting its usual tighty space atop her head. You can’t tell if it’s directed toward you or Yuuji, but surely she wouldn’t advise you against dating someone she’s so close to? Not that you wanted to date him.
“I don’t like him!” You make an ‘x’ with your arms, and although your face is twisted into something that resembles grumpiness, your voice doesn’t sound like it at all. You’re clearly lying, and the raise in pitch at the end of your voice gives it away. You noticeably deflate, your lips resting into a straight line. “...I don’t even know if he likes guys.”
Yuuji goes quiet, leaning forward in his chair with his chin tucked between his thumb and four fingers. He’s lost in thought, mimicking Nobara’s pensive expression until a lightbulb pops in his head.
“That’s not true! You just gotta ask. Buy him something that’ll really ‘whoo’ him.” He grins, as though that was an option buried under layers of cement. You shake your head, watching Nobara stand from her seat and grip the hand rest above your heads. She looks down at you with an uncomfortably scary look of determination.
“Cheer up. Everything will work out since I’m here,” The train stops, and Yuuji jumps to his feet with an enthusiastic nod. It was your stop. “Let’s get sushi first.”
It would be an understatement to say they went overboard. Their advances were… compassionate, to say the least. The only problem was returning back with mountains of bears, sweets, carryout boxes of sushi (Nobara’s idea) and flowers (Yuuji’s idea) without being noticed. It was noticeably loud, and the vibrant red chrysanthemums you had pressed into your hand were making quite the scene. You wondered if you’d have to give him the button to your uniform, with all this commotion.
Megumi shuffles toward the three of you, his eyebrows stuck together as he takes in the sight of..whatever it was you had in your hands. You managed to carry all of it, bending awkwardly to keep anything from falling. The lump in your throat only gets bigger as three sets of eyes look at you expectantly. What are you supposed to say? ‘Hey Megumi, I’ve had a crush on you since the first day we met! I don’t even know if you like men, but do you wanna be my boyfriend?’ The food you’d eaten earlier no longer sits comfortably in our stomach, instead it churns and threatens to rise up as bile. Your hands feel clammy, and if it weren’t for the variety of things in them you’d be wiping them down on your pants.
“Ask him out already!” Nobara pushes you forward, her eyes oddly starry as her palms meet your shoulder blades. You stumble forward, nearly smacking the entirety of your weight right onto your crush. It seems so much easier in the movies. A confession, a kiss, fireworks, and a happy ending. But movie kisses were fake, and you hoped if you got to kiss Megumi it’d be full of the most sincerity the world could offer.
“I-“
“I like you too.” Megumi says, his face completely relaxed. He stares straight into your eyes, trying to catch even a glimpse of wavering doubt. You stand your ground, but while half of you is stuck in his captivating gaze, the other half is still in shock. Megumi, of all people, likes you. He grabs the bouquet of chrysanthemums, twirling them around between his fingers. He could have very easily snapped them, thrown everything out of your hands and stomped on it. But he didn’t. He inspected everything carefully, and he looked the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him. He awkwardly places his hand on your shoulder, earning loud squeals from Nobara and Yuuji.
“I like your compassion, too.”
“What?!? That’s all you have to say?!”
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loveofafangirl · 3 years
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The Right Thing
[Baron Zemo Masterlist] [Marvel Masterlist] 
Pairing: Baron Zemo x Reader (no gender, race, body type given)
Synopsis: As Zemo is sneaking away from his abode in Latvia in search of freedom, he is pulled back when he notices the fight in his home above has become dangerous for those in the streets. *Fluff:Comfort/Care*
Word Count: <1,500
Author’s Note: This is my first time writing Zemo. I don’t know what happened but he is living (and dancing) in my head rent-free so I hope you enjoy this little fic. I typically write third person; second person/reader is not really my area of comfort, so please excuse any mistakes. Not betad. A/N2: This reader becomes “Reader A” on my masterlist. Most fics can be read as this reader with their relationship with Zemo developing (even though they are all mostly one shots)
TW: non-graphic mentions of blood and injuries
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He averted his gaze, pulling the collar of his coat up, attempting to blend in with the crowd forming in the street as he slipped out of his Latvian home. He could hear the clash of Vibranium echoing on the floor above. Children gathered in the street below, looking up curiously at the unusual sounds. He wanted to warn them. He knew the threats of fallout that followed from being too near those so-called heroes better than anyone. However, he feared the delay would cost him his freedom and what he must do. He quickened his pace away from them.
The shattering of a large window sounded behind him as the building took a beating from those fighting. He turned at the noise, too late to do anything more than observe the shards of colorful glass rain down on those below. 
He watched in horror as the debris struck a few people. You caught his attention when you protected a young boy, which caused you to suffer the most. He admired your resolve. You did what he wasn’t strong enough to do. He turned back the way he was heading, trying to forget the damage he saw.
You were curious about the cacophony of sounds coming from the building. You had heard that some of the Avengers were in town. You had secretly hoped to catch a glimpse of them. Not because you were a fan, more because you wanted to see them—to size them up. You had always been a good judge of character, and you wanted to determine for yourself whether they were essentially good or not; although, you already knew the world was far grayer than most people gave it credit. 
The noise above grew louder, and you could tell a battle was ensuing. You watched the number of people growing beside you, more specifically, the number of children enchanted by the unusual sounds. For a moment, fear flashes on your face, remembering Sokovia and the damage left in the wake of the last Avengers fight in the area. 
Before you have time to warn them, screams fill the air as glass and bricks begin to fall. You turn quickly, covering a small boy standing beside you, shielding him from the brunt of the crumbling debris. You cry as the glass pierces your skin; you feel blood begin to drip from some of the larger wounds. 
“Are you okay?” You ask the boy whose body trembles in your arms.
He nods, his lips quivering. He runs off down the street, following the crowd away from the scene without a word to you. 
You drag yourself away, too, hoping to find a quiet spot to nurse your injuries. You’re grateful they’re not worse since you can’t afford to go to the doctor. You turn a corner and sit on an old crate in the quiet alleyway. 
You peel off your shirt and turn to pull the first piece of glass from your back. You cry at the pain but continue on, gritting your teeth.
“Let me?” His voice was soft as he held his hands out in front of him, gesturing toward your wounds. 
Weary of the new stranger, you pull back defensively.
“Please.” He remained where he stood, not moving on you, giving you space. “I can help. You saved that child. Let me help you now. You won’t be able to reach them all on your own.”
Reluctantly, you nod, allowing him closer.
He slowly moves beside you, keeping his hands up, showing you he meant you no harm. 
His touch is softer than you imagined. You don’t even feel his careful fingers removing the glass. Eventually, you work up the nerve to ask, “Are you a doctor?”
“No,” he replies simply and continues his work. “Unfortunately, I have seen more destruction and loss than I would like.”
You sit in silence until he is done. He takes a minute to carefully inspect you, making sure to have removed all of the pieces to prevent infection. 
He wipes the soft fabric of his trench coat over your skin, collecting the blood that had spilled. 
His movements were so tender and warm that you can’t help but relax at his touch. The pain in your back seems to disappear under his care.
“There. All better.”
“Thank you, truly.”
His lip curls up in the corner. “You were a hero today. Many only delude themselves to be that. Few actually prove themselves to be so on occasion.”
You search his face for more. There is pain there that cut deeper than any shard of glass could. The two of you shift closer. There’s something in his eyes that lets you know his thoughts had drifted away from you. You know that look‚ the look of loss—of longing. It was all too common in the recent months and years. 
Before you can step back and thank him once more, his lips brush over yours, slowly. It feels like a dream, and for a moment, you’re afraid to breathe, as it feels like the wind whispering quietly on your lips. His eyes seem brighter at that moment like something had changed. As you decide to give yourself over to it, he pulls away, startled.
“My apologies.” His tone is honest as he steps back. He almost sounds surprised that it had happened.
“It’s okay.” You aren’t in the habit of letting random men kiss you and get away with it, but there was something genuine about him. Your eyes widen, truly focusing on the man in front of you for the first time. His brown eyes are warm and kind. You could tell he had been through a lot, but he had still taken the time to assist you. “It wasn’t you. Well, at least not completely you. It’s been a long time since someone was that…tender to me.” You swallow hard at your confession, unsure of why you had told this stranger that. “Most men want more. Demand it when it is refused.”
His eyes fill with what you think is concern, but he’s hard to read. You wonder if you’re fooling yourself, and it’s a look of pity that you’re trying to rewrite. 
He looks around nervously as people rush past the entrance of the alleyway. “I should be going.”
Filled with courage you didn’t know you had, you take a step forward and brush a kiss on his cheek. Your fingers linger on him. “Thank you again.” 
“My pleasure.” 
His smile, as he begins to move away, left you wanting more—needing to better understand him. You watch him walk toward the busy street. “Wait.”
He turns toward you, his head tilted to the side, waiting for you to continue.
“Why did you help me?” 
“It was the right thing to do.” He stated plainly. 
You nod thoughtfully. Not many people would have helped you like that without wanting more. Not many people know what the right thing is anymore. You’re not even sure you know all the time. “Can I ask you something else?”
He looks around again as if waiting for someone to find him. He offers a curt nod. 
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but do you need a place to lay low for a day?”
His head tilts further to the side, “why would you ask that?”
You shrug. “I don’t know. I guess, you just look like a man who’s running.”
“How very astute of you.” He marches closer again, studying your face more carefully now. 
“You can stay with me...just for the night,” you clarify quickly.
“You don’t know me. Why would you make such an offer?”
“It’s the right thing to do." You look down, bashful for a moment, before continuing. "Plus, you helped me; I owe you a debt.” Both were partly the truth, but the third reason you couldn’t bring yourself to admit to him was that you weren’t ready to let him go. 
He considers your offer, as he proceeds to attempt to understand you. "One night." 
"One night," you agree. You reach for your shirt, attempting to shake out the remaining bits of glass and put it back over you. 
"Here." He stops you, pulling his lavish coat off his shoulders, and wraps it around you in one fluid motion. 
The gesture catches you off guard, and you let a little noise of surprise slip from your lips. 
He doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does, he isn’t smug about it. He buttons the coat closed, shielding your body from the outside world. Stepping to the side, he extends his arm, a gentle smile on his lips. "After you."
You're not really sure what you're doing or why you made the offer you did, but you do know that for the first time in a long time, there's a smile on your face that you can't seem to wipe away. You touch your fingers to your lips, still mesmerized by the delicate kiss. You step forward, ready for whatever the future has for you. "Follow me." 
[Next Part: A Promise]
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displacedentities · 3 years
Text
Night Out
My quickfic for @doodledrawsthings​ Coffee Shop AU! In truth I had this in the books for months and just never got around to finish it ;u; Unfortunately only the muse can decide when it’s time to slap me with enough serotonin to work on this, so I rode the high from recent art and wrapped it up! It’s not as clean as I wanted, but you know what, have it anyway.
-Myst -----
Finally. Another shift in the books.
With a heavy sigh, Luka stretches his back as the clock chimes up on the wall over the glass doors. Deft fingers untie the back before he slips the fabric apron over his head. A light snap of magnets punctuates the white noise of steaming coffee machines, and Luka stuffs his nametag into his pants pocket.
Luka was embarrassed to think about how much of a struggle it was to steady on for the entirety of the workday. Stress ate at him all the time, over so many things. Harriet was priority number one - did he remember to prep her meals for the day? Was she still ok, back in the apartment? Was Professor Popcorn in need of more repairs? Luka would happily handle such a task, of course, but...
He wasn't guaranteed to have thumbs when the evening finally came. There was his time limit to think about.
"Hey Luka?"
Damn, but being cursed was such a pain. Chopping vegetables was a particular bane of his existence. How could he trust himself with a knife like that? Ugh. He hated to make Harriet do it - no child should be wielding a knife before the age of 13, for any reason. He'd just have to MacGyver a solution or something.
"Luka..."
And on top of that, he had the upcoming bills to fret over. Rent was due in a few days, and he'd made a decent amount in tips, but they could not afford to have their upstairs neighbor burst a pipe again. He and Harriet had spent the entire afternoon toweling up their poor carpets to avoid getting mildew. Or worse, bugs. Luka was a fan of bugs, but not in his carpets, or sneaking into the mattress where they could bite his daughter.
"HEY!"
This time, the voice manages to pierce the haze of worry writhing in Luka's brain. Jolting to attention, the auburn-haired adult turns around, blinking owlishly at his colleague, Clover.
The braided redhead is giving him a wan smile, her brows furrowed in worry as she sets down a large bag of coffee beans under the counter.
"You spaced out again, buddy. Did you hear a word I said?" the barista asks, folding her arms over her stained apron.
"Uhh... you said my name," Luka replied, feeling a bit awkward as he chuckles once. "Sorry, I probably missed anything you might have asked me."
"I was asking if you ever go out."
"Ah- what?"
That was unexpected. Go out?
"You know-" Clover holds up her hands to gesture to the world in general, and beyond the coffee shop doors "-out! Like, with friends or anybody?"
Ah.
Luka laughs once, rubbing a hand on one side of his face.
"You mean since I moved into town? Nah, not really. Me and my daughter have only been here a few months - can't say we made many friends just yet."
Nor was that a risk they could take. Who knows how long they could stay here, before he was inevitably found out? One could argue it was a risk just- doing what he was doing now. Trying to hold a job, staying in an apartment; a semi-permanent living situation. They'd been on the road so long, old habits were quite hard to break. And if he was entirely honest with himself, Luka didn't know yet if he felt safe, even six months past the first day he arrived in the rural town of Subcon.
Clover's frown deepens, her arms dropping back to her sides. Her dropped guard betrays her worry, before she tries to play it off with another lighthearted smile and upbeat words.
"Oh come on, it can't have been that long since you've just done something fun for the sake of it. When was the last time you went out with friends and enjoyed yourself?" she asks.
"Why is this important?" Luka asks, his own guard slowly rising. He didn't quite see where she was going with this, but he wasn't sure he'd like it.
Oops- maybe not the most polite way to phrase that, as he sees an awkward flinch on Clover's face. Quick, recover! Luka chuckles once, also trying to lighten the mood.
"You and MJ never really asked me that kind of stuff before. I thought I was hired to serve coffee, not tea."
"We serve both, ya doofus," Clover smirks, rubbing one of her well-muscled arms with the other in a self-conscious gesture. "You should know that, since you've been working here almost four months now. And uh- well, MJ just kind of noticed you always seem very tired whenever you leave work."
Luka smiles back, but it's forced. Careful. Don't give any hints that it's anything serious. Don't be suspicious.
"Oh, that? I uh- I'm not used to the retail scene. I'll probably adapt to it soon."
Clover doesn't seem convinced. Still, her expression is sympathetic, rather than judgmental or suspicious. She leans her back on the counter, looking over Luka's exhausted demeanor and baggy eyes with a skeptical smile.
"I'm sure you will." She rests her hands on the counter. "In the meantime, you should go out for bowling with me and MJ! We were planning this outing for about a week, and maybe you'd wanna come with?"
Luka stops mid-folding of his apron. He turns toward Clover with surprise.
"Bowling? As in- knocking over pins in an alley, bowling?"
Clover rolls her eyes, amused. "No, as in rolling cereal bowls. Yes, that kind of bowling, Luka. It'll be fun! Eat some cheap pizza, knock over pins, watch the uncanny valley animations on the TV screen, the whole shebang. You up for joining us?"
"I uh- I didn't know there was a bowling alley here?" Luka says, his voice pitching up as he gives a sheepish laugh. "I- I don't know..."
Shit.
He could already feel the first touches of his curse starting to well up. A quick glance to his hands- okay, no purple yet. But it was coming.
Luka tucks his hands behind his back just in case.
"I'm not sure, I have Harriet to worry about..." he fumbles, rushing to think of excuses. It hurts his heart a little when he sees the disappointed expression Clover wears.
"Are you sure?" she asks, her tone gentle. "It'll only be a for a couple of hours - I could ask Cookie next door if she'd be willing to handle your daughter for the night. She's a fantastic sitter, and your daughter would have Mu to play with."
Luka opened his mouth, preparing to turn it down- then closed it again, brows furrowed as he chews over the thought.
Only a few hours... hm. His curse's current time limit was somewhere a little short of eight hours, he was sure. As long as he didn't have to pick up a shift at work, he would have most of his day free to spend out of the motel. An outing to a bowling alley couldn't possibly last eight hours, though he'd... never actually gone bowling before.
"I.... don't know... I've never been bowling, I'll just hold you back-"
"Nonsense," Clover says, waving off his excuse immediately. "MJ and I aren't professionals or anything, Luka - it's just for fun! You've never been?? That means you've gotta try it, at least once. Please?"
...mmh. Luka would be lying if he said he wasn't very tempted. But he had so much to worry about! His daughter, his curse... keeping his job, being able to support the two of them. Not to mention, getting used to his slow camaraderie with Clover and MJ. That sort of outing would throw their friendship into first gear.
"It's ok," Clover interrupts his thoughts, standing back up straight as she grabs a rag and finishes wiping down the counter. "You don't have to come, we just thought... you know, it might be fun. You look like you need some serious time to unwind, dude. All we ever see of you is showing up to work, dealing with customers, then you leave. And hey, if you change your mind, the offer's still open."
Luka curls his fingers, foot tapping the floor in small fidget.
"Well, I'm gonna start closing up the back," Clover says, tossing the rag into a laundry bin next to the employee break room. "I'll see you tomorrow!"
"Wait!"
Clover stops, turning around with the laundry basket.
"What day were you planning to do it?"
What am I thinking?? I can't go on an outing with them!
Unaware of Luka's silent stresses, Clover beams, her smile lighting up once again.
"Saturday! Would that work for you?"
"Mnhg- maybe?" Luka concedes, forcing his own sheepish smile despite his brain screaming No nO this is a bad idea! His mouth continues to run away from him. "Saturday is my errand day - me and Harriet go out for groceries in the morning, and eat out at whatever lunch restaurant she picks. I wouldn't be open until the evening, and Sunday's game day for me and my daughter."
Bad idea, what are you doing?!
"That's perfect!" Clover says, delighted and still not privy to Luka's inner struggle. "If we close the shop at five, we can drive to the bowling alley around 5:30, play a game or two and eat. Should go until about... eight-ish? How's that sound?"
Say no, say NO!
"Sure, sounds fun."
AGH!
"Great!" Clover says, a skip in her step as she lopes off to the back room with the laundry basket. "I'll text MJ to let him know - he's already gone back to his apartment."
"Yeah, I'll uh- I'll text him too," Luka chuckles, scratching behind his head with one hand- and immediately putting a stop to that action, as he feels the points of sharp claws dig at his scalp. Both arms are dropped and tucked behind his back, a big smile on his face. "Gotta give him the full details and everything, haha..."
"No problem- see you!" Clover bids Luka goodbye, waving one hand as she cheerily hauls the laundry bin off into the back.
"Bye!" Luka says, his voice cracking from nerves.
Oh thank god she's gone.
Luka pulls his hands back out into view, and sees the telltale purple staining begin to creep up his flesh. Peck. It was already starting- Clover left just in time. He could already feel the sharp ends of his canines starting to poke into his bottom lip. He didn't have much left of the day in human form- he had to get home right now.
Snatching up his belongings from his locker, stuffing his work apron inside, Luka loops his bag over his shoulder and leaps over the service counter. He missed the rack of sugar packets this time, thankfully, his sneakers squeaking on the tile floor as he bolts out the door. The bell rings as the glass entryway opens and shuts, signaling his departure. Car keys are whipped out of his bag, a slowly deforming finger just managing to push the button to unlock the vehicle as he clambers inside. Just five minutes- he could make five minutes.
The engine of the car roars to life, and Luka zips off out of the employee parking space, trying his best to ignore it as his fingers swell and fuse together, and his eyes reflect golden light in the rear view mirror.
------
MJ's car putters up to outside the bowling alley, fixing his blue-dyed hair with a sigh. Clover, in the passenger seat, drums her hand on the door handle with excitement.
"This is gonna be so much fun," she says, turning to look over her shoulder at the stiff and uncomfortable Luka in the backseat. "I'm so glad you decided to come, Luka- we'll show you the ropes of bowling!"
"Great," the young man says, putting up another shaky smile as his fingers tense around his kneecaps. "Can't wait!"
"That's the spirit," MJ speaks up, giving Luka a quick smile of his own before twisting the key in the ignition. The car's engine dies down, the doors unlocking as MJ shifts the gear into park. "Clover told me you were nervous about hanging out, and that's completely fine by me - if you feel uncomfortable and don't want to stay, just let us know, ok? We'll drive you back to the apartment building, no hesitation."
Luka inhaled deeply, letting out a heavy sigh from the back seat of the car. It felt like his nerves were trying to shake him apart. A glance at his watch-
Was he really going forward with this?
...Yes. He was. As much as Luka worried, Clover had been right. It'd been far too long since he'd taken 'me' time.
Luka puts a hand on the door and pulls the handle, stepping out of the car before he has a chance to psyche himself out.
It's just a couple hours. He still had plenty of time, after his midday outings with Harriet.
Stay calm. You can do this.
The sign above the brick building shines with neon lights, saying 'Pins & Cushions' in bright blue and red. The backdrop is a painting that Luka can swear was painted in the 80s, displaying a bowling ball as it barrels into pins and knocking them askew with a cartoony impact mark.
"Pins & Cushions?" he says aloud, smirking a little bit.
"Kind of silly, right?" MJ speaks up, locking the car behind him with a click. "Sounds more like a sewing parlor than a bowling alley."
"It's because they boasted having cushioned chairs," Clover says, snickering. "You've never been, but most bowling alleys have these awful plastic chairs that hurt to sit on for too long."
"You mean like the chairs in high school?"
Luka's joke earns a quick bark of a laugh from Clover.
"Couched seating areas in a bowling alley was, sadly, a craze that never caught on," MJ says, ascending the concrete steps up to the building. "But this one did, and the place is like forty years old and too stubborn to change, so your butt will thank you later."
When the doors open, Luka is immediately washed with a cocktail of smells he didn't think could- nor should- ever go together. First and foremost is the thick smell of plastic and rubber, followed by the chemical odor of cleaning sprays, and the sizzling smell of burning cheese. Air conditioning blasts them from above as the three young adults enter the bowling alley, the doors sliding shut behind their backs. The sounds hit next - a cacophonous mix of rubber soles squeaking on polished floors, heavy objects falling and rolling, and the clatter of pins falling into the trap at the far end of the establishment.
It was loud, smelled strange, and the carpet looked lifted straight out of an arcade.
Luka was torn between anxiety, and a strange sort of excitement he hadn't felt in a long, long time. This was something new, something unfamiliar- he had hours to enjoy himself, and spend time not worrying about stresses of life. Harriet had a sitter, paid in advance with an alarm for when he would return, and he was out with- friends? Had him accepting this invitation solidified their friendship at this point? ...the thought made a happy butterfly flutter in his stomach.
This would be a great evening, he could feel it.
"Earth to Luka." MJ's amused tone causes Luka to jump. "Something on your mind? You're smiling."
"Oh- uh- nothing," Luka says, scratching behind his head sheepishly. "Just- thanks. For inviting me. I think I really did need this a lot."
"YEAH you do!" Clover thumps him on the back with one hand. "Come on! You have to give your shoes to the clerk so they can give you your bowling shoes."
"Ah, what? I have to take off my shoes on this carpet?" Luka complains, lifting a foot with distaste. "I feel like I'm stepping on twenty-year-old candy."
"It's part of the charm!" Clover sings, already removing one of her sneakers. "It's either this, or slip all over the place on the actual alley floor. You're getting the full bowling experience whether you like it or not, coffee boy."
"Ex-CUSE me!" Luka says with a dramatic gasp, hopping on one foot as he works to remove his own shoes. "I think you will find I'm a coffee man, thank you."
"Coffee twink," Clover counters.
"No, that's MJ."
"HEY! I will call lion's share of the tips for that one," MJ shakes a sneaker at them both in a mock scolding gesture.
"YOU'RE BOTH COFFEE TWINKS," Clover declares to the entire establishment as she fights off her last sneaker, racing for the counter before the others can catch up. "HURRY UP, COFFEE TWINKS, WE NEED TO PICK OUT BOWLING BALLS."
"I have dibs on the galaxy patterned one!" MJ yells after Clover.
Clover gives MJ an evil grin as she takes her bowling shoes and pays the rental fee, tying them before sauntering over to the racks of bowling balls. Her hand hovers over the selection, giving a teasing pause over the bowling ball made with swirled star plastic.
"Don't you dare," MJ hisses from the counter, pointing an accusing finger at Clover as he hands over the money for both his and Luka's rental shoes.
"It's either the tips share, or the bowling ball! You decide!" Clover yells back, drumming her fingers on the coveted starry bowling ball.
"Fiiiiine," MJ says with a dramatic tone, though his smile gives away his mirth. "You know I wasn't going to take the tips anyway, Clo."
"I know~" she says, giggling while she moves on to a different rack of bowling balls. "And you know I wouldn't do that to your poor weak arms, either, Moonie."
Luka finishes tying his rental shoes, thanking MJ before he makes his way down the small stairway to the alleys. It's very bright in this section of the building, with cushioned couches surrounding tables and standing consoles. Metal railings and a chute of some kind were positioned at each alleyway, some with bowling balls sitting idle atop the metal racks.
"So, what now?" Luka asks, the excitement of wading into unknown waters welling in his chest again.
"Pick a bowling ball!" Clover says, gesturing to the racks of heavy plastic spheres. "You'll want a heavy one, but not too heavy for you to lift and throw."
"Go easy on us, Clover." MJ shakes his head as he picks up his favorite starry ball. "Ms. Gun Show and her fourteen-pound bowling ball."
The redhead leans over and scoops up a swirled green bowling ball, hefting it on one arm and pumping it like a weight.
"You might get some guns yourself if you helped me landscape and move sod around my garden, Coffee Twink #1," she says, flexing a bicep.
"I refuse to acknowledge that nickname."
"Sorry, it's our team name now," Clover laughs, "the Coffee Twinks!"
"Hey, I thought our team name was the Comets?!"
"That was before Luka joined the team - now it's a 2-to-1 twink majority, I don't make the rules."
Luka just has his face in his hands, laughing through the whole exchange as he leans on the metal racks.
"You're just as bad as Harriet!" Luka laughs, pushing his hair back out of his eyes with one hand. "I don't even know where she learned that word - Cookie's daughter, probably?"
"Definitely," MJ says with a thousand yard stare, earning more laughter from Luka. "Go pick a bowling ball, I'll get the console up and running for our game."
Wiping tears from his eyes, chuckling under his breath, Luka turns to the racks and peruses the selection. The bowling balls come in all colors - most are black or dark brown, but there's a rather delightful mix of brighter hues like pink, blue and yellow. Some are marbled, some have glitter in the plastic, and a few very beat-up bowling balls have graphics of cartoon characters that were popular in the 90s. Well-loved by the children who patronize this establishment, he was sure. Harriet would love the Scooby-Doo ball - oh no wait. The one themed after a Pokeball, for sure was her poison of choice. And clearly the pick of the litter for many other children, as it was covered in scratches and dents from decades of use.
Ah- there was one themed after a jack-o-lantern! How fitting. He loops his fingers into the grip holes of the bowling ball, and heaves it off of the rack- only to almost crush his toes as the weight yanks his arms to the floor.
That was- heavier than expected!
"Oooooh, nice pick," Clover says, spinning her own bowling ball in her hands. "You sure you can carry it, though? That's a 10-pounder."
"I'll be fine-" Luka says, grunting as he lifts it back up with both hands this time. "Just- caught me off guard, is all."
"Alright, game's all set," MJ announces from the console.
Above their heads, a large tube television flashes blue before displaying a score board.
A loud k-chunk k-chunk k-chunk of machinery draws Luka's eye toward the other end of the alley. Metal rigging and machinery descend from the covered roof of the pin trap. Resembling a large soda crate, the rig drops an array of ten white bowling pins, before unclamping and ascending back into the darkness of whatever creation of god resided in that ceiling.
"You're up first, Clo," MJ says, waving a hand to indicate she should move forward.
"Watch and learn," Clover throws Luka a smile, the competitive taunt dampened by her genuinely helpful tone. "You want to throw the ball so it rolls like this-"
Stepping forward onto the squeaky, smooth polished wooden platform, Clover lifts her bowling ball to her chest. With a quick inhale, she lopes forward two steps, swinging her arm back with the bowling ball, before reeling it forward on the last stride and underhand throwing it into the aisle. The heavy green bowling ball lands with a tHDD before skidding its way down the oiled track, rolling in a long, smooth line. The swirled green sphere smacks into the bowling pins with a loud tHWAKK!!, sending all but one of the pins flying into the darkness beyond. The ball disappears into the hole, and Clover puts her hands on her hips with a huff.
"Damn, almost got a strike." Clover snaps her fingers, shrugging. The green bowling ball clatters back up the chute. She grips her fingers into the trio of holes again, and goes for another throw.
The bowling ball rolls down the course, straight as an arrow for the last pin. The pin spins off the wooden platform into the darkness, earning a whoop from Clover.
"Nice, got a spare!" Clover declares, throwing her arms up in triumph. She sashays her way back to the couches. "Who's up next?"
"I'm up," MJ says, standing from the console. Looping his fingers into his own starry bowling ball, MJ rolls his shoulders and steps up onto the oiled wooden planks. "I'm going to get the first strike of the day, just wait."
"Sure you will," Clover snickers as MJ winds up.
When he releases the ball, it rolls at very high speed- before curving halfway down the track, the topspin he put on the ball causing it veer off course and land in the gutter.
Face flushed, MJ coughs into his hand, suddenly very invested in fixing his shirt as Clover grins. The galaxy ball returns to the trough, and MJ pointedly picks it up again, winding up for his second throw. The bowling ball rocks down the course, and knocks over about six pins, leaving a corner of the triangle still standing.
"Woo!" Clover cheers, clapping as MJ returns to the seating. She reaches over and nudges Luka on the shoulder. "You're up, Luke! Show us whatchu got!"
Heart in his throat, Luka stands from his seat and steps up.
The bowling ball grins up at him, daring him to chicken out. It was heavy in his hand. Still, he walked up onto the polished floor, feeling the rubber on the bottom of his shoes as it grips the oiled surface.
Fighting the weight of the heavy bowling ball, Luka takes a step forward, swinging his arm back before bringing it back around like a pendulum. The ball hits the track with a heavy thDD as it’s released, sent rolling off down the track. Around the halfway point, it spins off course and lands in the gutter with a clunk.
“Aww,” Clover says, leaning over the chair cushion. “And you had such good posture, too.”
“It’s ok,” MJ speaks up, seeing Luka’s visible embarrassment. “It’s your first time bowling! Nothing to be ashamed of. You have another shot before we rotate players.”
Disappointed, Luka rubs at his arm. Well, that was a less than encouraging performance. But he noticed the angle of the spin on the ball. Maybe he could fix that.
The ball clatters up the chute back into the return trough. Luka picks it up with a huff of breath, holding it to his chest as he does mental calculations. If he turned his wrist at just the right point...
Stepping forward, Luka swings back and releases the ball, putting a top spin on the ball at the last possible moment-
The jack-o-lantern face rockets down the alley, the path straight until the very last second. It curves to hit the front pin from the side, knocking every single pin into the abyss beyond.
"OHHHHH!" Clover and MJ exclaim, clapping with enthusiasm as Luka looks stunned.
"You got a strike!" Clover says, applauding with a big grin. "You were totally pulling our legs about being a newbie to this, huh??"
"I think I just got lucky," Luka tries to play it off, feeling an uncommon shyness as he smiles.
Clover shakes her head, not having it.
"Luck nothing! That was pure talent, and you got a strike, dude!"
"Technically that was a spare, but still a strike in my book," MJ says as he rotates the turn order on the console, giving Luka a smile and a thumbs up.
"Oh let him have it, Moon Moon," Clover laughs as MJ throws her a pout. "Our new boy's got game!"
Luka hunches his shoulders, an awkward smile curling across his cheeks as he walks back over to the couches. Clover jumps to attention and makes her way to the track, picking up her green bowling ball for another round as he sits down.
This was... much more fun than he had expected it to be. The background noise of the bowling alley was surprisingly pleasant. He found he could get used to the dull odor of plastic and cleaner- and honestly, that hot cheese smell from what must be the pizzeria was tempting his stomach. But best of all was the camaraderie he could feel sparking between him, Clover, and MJ. Were they officially friends now? Or had they been already, and he was just- in denial? If Luka was entirely honest with himself, probably the latter. MJ and Clover had been nothing but kind and understanding, to him. His sporadic hours and excuses had done nothing to faze them with regards to their treatment of him at work. They still offered him drinks and invited him on this outing, offering even to pay for his expenses, didn't they?
"Hey Luka!" A call from MJ breaks him out of the small reverie. "You're up, again."
"And after this round, we can hit the arcade! I bet I can out-dance you on DDR, Coffee Twinks," Clover smirks.
"No betting. I know you can."
Maybe- maybe he had nothing to worry about.
---
The evening is going fantastic.
The first bowling game had been a pretty close match between Luka and Clover. Clover had the arm strength to pull off some mean and fast throws, but Luka had developed a system. Figuring out how to spin the bowling ball just the right amount had made up for his noodle arms and less weighty bowling ball. It wasn't long before he figured out how to roll a pretty straight record of spares and strikes, with the occasional 7-10 split. After bowling around, they went into the arcade section, with an entire paper roll of quarters to blow on games. A vicious Ms. Pacman multiplayer match had led to MJ smoking all three of them, and as predicted, Clover out-danced both of the boys on the DDR and Stepmania machines. Luka had to collapse over a nearby chair with exhaustion after his matches. He'd finished off the arcade run with a very lucky pull from a claw machine, winning a black cat plush with big yellow eyes that he was definitely going to enjoy giving to Harriet.
The three of them sat around their table at the bowling console again, laughing over a hot cheese and pepperoni pizza.
"No way, you didn't!" Luka gasps, wheezing for air.
"I did! I punched his goddamn lights out!" Clover laughs, slapping one knee. "The guy was being a huge creep, so I introduced him to my fist."
"I hope you didn't get in trouble with the cops or something for that." Luka tilts his head, giving her an impressed and worried look.
"Can't get in trouble if nobody reports it," MJ chimes in, smirking past his soda cup. "He complained to me, but I had the security tapes AND plausible deniability because I wasn't on the floor. Corporate took our side on this."
"Nobody from the city wants to drive all the way out to podunk Subcon for a random dudebro's complaint." Clover sits back on her cushioned seat, chomping into her pizza happily. "Mmmmm- delicious melty cheese."
Luka chomps into his own pizza, exhaling and blowing on it as it nearly burns his mouth.
"Easy, tiger!" MJ smirks around his own mouthful of pizza.
"I know, it's just so good," Luka says, laughing into his hand as he sips some of his cola. "But in like- the way you know it's not that great? Does that make sense?"
"Night in the Woods taught me the Pizza Scale, and I stick by that," Clover says, crunching through her crust to grab up another slice, washing down the bread with some soda. When she reaches for another piece of the pie, she pauses, and lets out a huff. "Oh, that sucks. I guess they didn't clean the bowling balls that well this time. Gross."
"Hm?" Luka says through a mouthful of pizza.
"Your fingers are all oil-stained from the finger holes on the bowling ball, Luka. Big Al needs to wash the bowling balls properly."
Confused, the law student shifts his attention down.
The ends of his fingertips are discolored with ebony purple.
Luka can feel as his brain zeroes in on the first sign of his impending transformation, and begins to shift into emergency mode as it relays the steps he must take in order to avoid further exposure. He'd gone over this information with himself many times over the past five years. It was ingrained in his mind, what he had to do, the information practically screaming at him. But he can't hear it. His ears are filled with buzzing as reality breaks into the facade he'd slowly built up over the course of hours.
No-
No no no-
His pizza slice drops to the paper plate as he fumbles with his bag, pulling out the cell phone from the liner pocket. Shaking fingers tap the screen with frantic speed, trying to turn the damn thing on-
9:17?
They'd been here nearly four hours?!
He'd spent the morning out with Harriet, doing their grocery shopping and walking around the town's outdoor mall as much needed father-daughter time. Eight hours of being in disguise had long since passed.
His time limit was up.
This couldn't be happening. Yet the numbers stare back at him from the glare of his cell phone screen. They even have the nerve to tick over to 9:18 right before his eyes.
This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening! It wasn't fair!
"Luka, you ok? You're turning pale..."
Clover's question just barely manages to pierce the haze, causing Luka to jolt in his seat. Posture stiff and breath shallow, he lifts his head to meet Clover's questioning eyes. She's staring at him with building concern, her smile becoming a frown of worry.
The tension is palpable in the air as Luka struggles to find words. Finally, he manages to say something.
"It's- it's a quarter past nine-"
"Oh shoot-" Clover says, sitting up abruptly as she grabs her own phone.
MJ checks his watch, wincing. "Oof. Sorry, Luka. I guess we lost track of time passing. I'll apologize to Cookie for the overtime, we can finish this round and go-"
"Don't feel good- going to the bathroom-" Luka wheezes, scrambling to his feet as he scoops all of his belongings into his bag and races past MJ's seat.
"Luka!" Clover yells after him, her heightened concern audible in her voice. "Ok, we'll- we'll start cleaning up! Let us know if you need-!"
Her words are cut off by the slam of the bathroom door. Luka's bowling shoes slip over the slick tile floor, his hands gripping onto the cold porcelain of the bathroom sink to steady himself. He brings his shaking hands up to view in the mirror. The blackening purple skin was spreading up his finger joints, reaching his palms.
No- not now! Why now?
Luka clenches his fists and his jaw, focusing every ounce of his will on making the purple go away. He can almost feel a vein pop on his forehead- if he still had veins, anymore- as he strains to make his unwilling body follow his desires. The purple starts to recede at a caterpillar crawl... but it slows. And the harder he tries, the more he can feel his arms struggle to hold their shape - becoming less solid.
"No- no!" he whimpers, clenching his hands into the sink again. The action splatters small droplets of purple sludge against the porcelain, which vanish moments later as the purple staining once more consumes his fingers - and now his palms. "Stop it! Just- let me be human! Please!"
He lifts his head to the mirror. Despair fills his gut as he sees amber eyes staring back at him in the reflection, and the beginnings of an inner glow fighting to come out from the back of his throat.
Luka lets out a wordless sound of sorrow, lifting an arm to pound one fist against the mirror in vain. The reflection is unfazed in its destitution, tears beginning to gather at the edges of its eyes and mouth set into a sob of clenched teeth. The reflection's canine's lengthen several inches as the eyes stare back, accusingly. The purple was starting to spread up its neck, just poking out the collar of the shirt.
"No..."
This wasn't him. But it had been, years ago. This was SUPPOSED to be him.
He curls his fist, watching as the fingers start losing their shape. Fusing together, becoming single digits and his thumbs vanish back into the purple sludge of the limb.
"I was finally-..." Luka whimpers, "...I finally felt human again."
-bang bang bang-
The sound of a fist knocking on the bathroom door causes Luka to yelp and jump back from the mirror.
"Luka? You ok in there?"
It was MJ.
Peck!
Grabbing his bag, Luka books it into the furthest stall of the bathroom. He slams the metal door behind him, fumbling to lock it with his swelling mitten fingers. Alarm shot through his gut as his shirt felt tight around his torso. Already?? This was faster than usual! Had he really pushed it that much?
"Hey man, are you sick? Clover and I are really concerned. Do you need any help in there?"
"NO! NO I'M GOOD!" Luka yells from the bathroom stall, clapping a two-fingered hand over his mouth as he hears the slight reverb echo to his own voice. Dammit! "I'M JUST- I'LL BE FINE!"
He was not fine, he would most certainly not be fine!
"Luka, you sound croaky." It was Clover this time, probably a short distance behind MJ. "Dude, are you sure? MJ, maybe you should go in and check on him-"
"NO!"
No, the reverb was stronger!
"Luka, I'm coming in."
"MJ it's fine!"
Luka could hear the seams of his shirt starting to stretch and strain. The seconds were ticking by as strings started to pop at the neck.
Shit, shit!
Luka turned left and right, the stall cramped and uncomfortable as the ruff of fur around his neck thickens and threatens to burst his shirt open. He needed a way out!
Aha! A small window, to the outside! Wow, that was probably the worst location for a window. And it was so small-
The door creaked as MJ started to turn the handle.
NO TIME!
Luka makes a dive for the window. His fingers catch on the sill, and he hauls his body up onto the tiny ledge, his head pushing up the glass and emerging out into the open air. Squeezing through the narrow space, he struggles to pull his feet through, kicking off the bowling shoes and hearing them clatter to the tiles below.
The door comes unlatched, and MJ enters the bathroom, looking around with a frown.
Luka was gone. And for some reason, his bowling shoes were abandoned on the questionably cleaned bathroom floor.
Just outside the window, tucked next to the wall of the alleyway outside the bowling alley, Luka is panting with adrenaline. He can feel his chest expand further with each breath, the fur mane around his neck already splitting apart his shirt. His fingers had fully lost their human shape by now, coalescing back into the familiar mitts he hated so much. A reminder that, no, he wasn't human. No matter what those people in the bowling alley thought of him, and what he thought of them in return... no matter how much he wanted to be human, again.
"Luka?"
His entire torso now fully drenched in purple, Luka hangs his head, listening as he fights to strip off the shirt suffocating him.
Footsteps, in the bathroom.
"...Luka? What the-... Clover, he's not here?"
"What?? But he- went into the bathroom! He was just-!"
"His shoes are here..."
"His shoes??"
Luka forces himself to stand, wobbling a bit further away from the window as he focuses all of his efforts on keeping his legs. He can't lose his ability to walk, not in the middle of town!
God dammit... god dammit! Why couldn't he just enjoy his night? Now he was wandering alleyways, half transformed, and MJ and Clover were no doubt worried to hell and back. What could he even say? 'Sorry, had to take a break to wolf out in the bathroom'?
-brrring brrring-
The buzz of the phone in his pants pocket- which was getting tight against his waist, he noticed. Luka quickly extracts the phone before it can be damaged by the fabric.
MJ's caller ID stares back at him from the screen.
The decision to trust these two with his information was biting him in his rapidly purpling behind. He'd been so careful not to slip up, and the ONE TIME he makes a mistake... He had another decision to make. He could not respond, and just be a complete asshole, but he could protect his secret a little safer, for just a little bit longer. Or he could pick up, and... he didn't know. Bullshit something? Would they even believe whatever malarkey he could cook up in seven seconds for bailing out of a bowling alley restroom? God, he was terrible at improvised excuses! He was a lawyer, not an actor! But if he answered the phone call, maybe- maybe he could hold on to that feeling again. The warmth of companionship of peers his age, that he hadn't felt since law school. Since... Vanessa. But he couldn't think about her right now. What mattered was his safety- his daughter's safety.
Peck. He didn't even think about that part. Could he really rip Harriet out of a somewhat stable home life, again? She was just starting to get along with Cookie's daughter, and he didn't want to take that precious first friendship from her.
Luka was only pulled out of the downward spiral by the vibration of the phone, which he only now realized had registered a missed call, and was now on the second call. It was still MJ, the picture of him in his Horizon employee cap still smiling from the bright phone screen.
He had to do something. He could feel his legs protest the form they was struggling to hold.
Survival instinct set in. First, he had to get away from the scene.
Stumbling to his malforming feet, Luka jogs away from the alley, ducking away from the Pins & Cushions and avoiding the bright neon sign on the side of the building.
As he walks, a headache hits, and Luka just knows his face was losing more of his familiar features. Didn't need a mirror to know that he was definitely the shade of a bruised plum, and that his eyes were glowing like gold beacons. The sharp teeth at the edges of his mouth were digging into his bottom lip as he dodges and weaves to avoid line of sight from storefront apartment windows.
The woods were so close by, just a few more blocks.
Faster. He had to run faster. But his legs- were fighting him! Already he could feel his steps become lighter, movement more fluid. It was a struggle to keep a walking stride, rather than just- leap into the air. No way was he going to fly a block from pecking main street.
His phone continues to vibrate, threatening the call to drop.
Right when he reaches the sidewalk, Luka pants for breath, collapsing beside the pole for a street lamp while avoiding the amber spotlight. Taking one last rueful look at his phone, he sighs, and presses the answer button with a doughy purple finger.
"Luka?" MJ's voice patches through. The reception isn't great, but it's sufficient. Maybe that was a lucky break, considering what his voice was going to sound like in a second.
"Hey," Luka answers. Yep. He sounded like a toad that swallowed a brass tube. "Sorry- about that."
"Dude, are you ok?? Where did you go?" MJ spoke so quickly it almost interrupted Luka, concern clear and evident in his voice. "You ran or something and- you left your shoes at the counter, and the cat plush for your daughter. Clover got them for you-"
"It's ok," Luka says, wincing. "I can pick them up tomorrow. I- don't feel well, and I have to go get Harriet."
"Luka, we could have driven you home for that," MJ responds, a hint of hurt and confusion. "You know you can tell us if you're uncomfortable, and want to leave, right?"
"No- this- I was having fun," Luka responds, cupping a hand over his mouth to try to muffle the echo. He had to wrap this up. His voice was getting less natural by the second. He really hoped the poor reception would mask it. "Look- I'm sorry MJ. But I really had to go."
"You're not getting kidnapped or something are you?" Clover's distant voice suddenly patches through in the phone. MJ must have his phone on speaker. "Because if you are, I'll hunt them down! Just yell where the car is taking you!"
"I'm not- look, I'm sorry, but I just had to go, ok?" Luka says. "Harriet needs me."
"I thought you were feeling sick?" Clover says, her worried tone now tinted with... suspicion. "You ran to the bathroom, and we were all worried about you, dude." Her voice becomes just a bit distant, as she turns to speak to MJ, but the phone picks it up. “Actually, did we ever hear anything from Cookie...?”
"No- I am-" Luka can feel his lies crumbling, nearly becoming true as he experiences a sensation similar to his stomach heaving from the anxiety. "Thanks for the wonderful evening, I'll pick up my stuff later- bye!"
"Wait-!!"
-click-
MJ's protest is cut off, and Luka set the phone down on the grass, putting his head in the other hand. That was terrible. But he couldn't back out on it now. He would just have to deal with the consequences of that phone call tomorrow.
Not like having shoes or not bothered him, anyway.
Exhausted and resigned, Luka slides away from the lamp post into the chaparral, and begins rapidly pulling his shirt over his head. No way was he going to lose another shirt, not after the last one. This was his last nice shirt, and he intended to keep it as long as possible!
A quiet gasp jolts him out of his frantic folding.
Luka whips around, shirtless, half de-pantsed, and his body a full shade of deep shadow purple. His golden eyes glow in the reflected street light as he freezes on the spot, making eye contact with another human being across the road. It was the stocky mustachioed man from the coffee shop- the regular who came by and sketched quietly in a corner. Pinstriped suit- which seemed to be the only outfit anyone ever saw him wore- an apron, and grey khaki pants. The thick glasses would make it difficult to tell where he was looking, if the man wasn't standing with his square jaw hanging down at his chest, head angled directly toward Luka. Everyone dismissed him as a paranoiac, a hermit who stopped by for his morning caffeine fix and quiet atmosphere to indulge in his imagination. Rumors flew that he used to work for some sort of tabloid magazine, and was fired- or promoted?- for how crazy his stories were.
Whatever the reason, this man was now standing, groceries dropped to the pavement, and staring at Luka. A very half-naked, absolutely not human-looking Luka.
Face suddenly burning hot with embarrassment and fear, Luka grabs his belt loops and bolts into the trees.
The movement causes the man to only gape more, making a wordless noise of astonishment before the forest breaks their line of sight and Luka retreats into the safety of the woods. Luka just barely remembers to grab his shirt and belt from the bushes. Vanishing entirely from sight, stumbling over debris as his transformation takes full hold of his body, Luka wheezes as his heart beats in his chest. After all that, he was seen! Peck! Did he just ruin everything because he wasn’t paying attention? But- but it was just the local hermit, the resident conspiracy nut. That wouldn’t be so bad, right? This wasn’t as catastrophic as being spotted by a teen with a cell phone open. Surely, this was the safest possible person in town to accidentally spot him mid-transformation. Repercussions would be minimal.
Thank god the man didn't have a camera.
337 notes · View notes
ratmonky · 3 years
Text
Sweet Blossoms
this is a commission, my friend put a gun against my head to write this and I didn’t get to write any of my own ideas so you don’t tell me it sucked cuz i already know it did lol
Word Count: 4.8K
Warnings: unhealthy relationship, cheating, vanilla *bleh*
AO3 Link
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There was no way he could know what kind of flowers you liked so he had left you all sorts of kinds.
You crouched down and took the flower bouquet in your arms, looking around to see who had left them but you couldn’t see him when he was that far into the darkness. With the prettiest smile on your lips, you inhaled the sweet fragrances of different flowers all at once. It almost made you dizzy because of how strong each flower's aroma was.
Carefully walking back inside the apartment, you started looking for the note the cheap supermarket flowers usually came with. While you were handling the flowers, the note slipped and fell onto the floor, right where your boyfriend was standing.
“This again?” he sighed, taking the note. He opened the note shamelessly, reading it out loud. “(name), as pretty as these flowers are, they are nothing compared to your beauty. I hope you’re staying healthy and safe.” He flipped the note to see if there was more to it but when he realized there wasn’t, he tore it apart. “Sounds like a creep.”
“Don’t say that.” You frowned, watching the note get destroyed. “They are harmless.”
“No sane man would leave flowers for some college girl living with her boyfriend. He’s probably still out there rubbing one off.” He leaned to the wall. “I would,” he added with a smirk.
“Stop being vulgar.”
“You say that while wearing things like that. You look for attention as if I’m not giving ya enough.” His words made you look down at your outfit. It was just a sundress.
“You’re overreacting,” your voice was fainter than a whisper.
“Don’t play the victim now. If it weren’t for me, you’d be sucking someone off for money to afford to live in a smaller apartment than this. Maybe you’d join those hookers in the kabuki district if I stopped giving you attention, huh?”
Legs shaking, you pressed the bouquet of flowers to your chest. There wasn’t anything you could or wanted to say to him. He was being mean but he was right. Maybe you had to stop dressing up like this. If it weren’t for him you wouldn’t be able to afford your major or rent. Your boyfriend was paying for the rent while you continued studying and worked to save money to pay off your student loan.
“Never forget that you wouldn’t be shit without me.”
You rapidly nodded, avoiding making him any more upset.
“Good,” he sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Now, go wipe your face, you look like a clown.”
Your hand went to your cheek to feel your makeup over your skin. It was still smooth, not cakey at all but from the way he said it, perhaps it looked worse than you thought.
“Okay.”
Walking past him, you slipped the small piece of paper in your dress’s pocket without him noticing. You put the flowers in a vase before placing them next to the old ones. This wasn’t the first time you had received flowers from your secret admirer and you hoped it wouldn’t be the last time.
Back in your room, hastily you took out the small paper and grinned when a movie ticket greeted you.
~~~
There hadn’t been a time in your life where you put this much effort into how you were going to look like to go out.
Your boyfriend often didn’t like it when you dressed up or put on makeup, he usually made comments on how you looked that made you feel bad about your appearance. Although you knew he loved you, it hurt your confidence. His words affected you in ways you couldn’t describe.
It was one of the reasons why you were conscious of your appearance right now and why you kept tugging your skirt down, worried that you might be showing too much skin. You wouldn’t put your small compact mirror down either, you kept checking on your makeup.
Everyone was looking at you. Thinking that you’re a slut.
At least that was what your mind was telling you. No, that was something your boyfriend would say.
While trying to ignore your own thoughts, you walked up to the employee behind the counter and showed them your ticket to enter the movie theatre. They told you your ticket’s arranged seat number and you saw from the computer screen that the seat beside yours was occupied.
You took a deep breath to calm your senses. The only reason you were here was because of how curious you were, nothing else. You had been getting flowers every Friday for longer than a year now and not knowing the identity of your secret admirer was eating you up.
I’m only gonna take a peek, you promised yourself and walked inside the theatre. If it turned out to be a creep like your boyfriend kept telling you about, then you could just walk away. This was a public space so there was no need to feel anxious about what could happen.
It took you a long moment to find your seat at the furthest back row and get comfortable on the soft cushions. The place wasn’t empty but it wasn’t full of people either, yet the row you had your seat on was completely free.
Each passing minute was unbearable even when you were trying to busy your mind with your phone but nevertheless failed to notice it when someone took a seat next to you.
By the time you looked up, there was a familiar face sitting next to you.
“Junpei!” you gasped, he always managed to sneak up on people since his presence went unnoticed.
He couldn’t meet your gaze, “Hi, it’s been a while huh?”
“Yeahh,” you went on to say before looking around, the trailers were about to start since the lights dimmed, your secret admirer was nowhere to be seen. “Umm, you see, I’m glad to see you here but I’m waiting for someone, this seat is taken.”
His adam’s apple moved as he gulped, there was a sweat droplet that drizzled down from his cheek to his neck.
Your eyes then landed on his lap. He was holding a single rose in his hand, the flower shook in his grasp.
“Oh.” It dawned on you. “Okay.”
Junpei held the flower out for you to take but still averted his gaze from yours. Slowly, you took the rose from him and lifted it up to your nose, inhaling the sweet aroma.
“You can leave,” he whispered, trying not to break the unwritten rule of a movie theater. “I won’t judge.”
He had noticed how disappointed you looked when you found out it was him who had been leaving you those flowers, he wasn’t the aggressive type to force you to sit down with him like this. Entrapping you and making you feel uncomfortable was the last thing he wanted to do.
“Why?” you whispered back.
“You looked disappointed.”
You snorted, “I was surprised to find out my next-door neighbor and dropout classmate was my secret admirer.”
Someone shushed.
Trying to stifle your giggling, you continued. “You could’ve just asked me out normally.”
His cheeks flushed deep red and he finally met your eyes. “You have a boyfriend.”
You got quiet, “Yeah.”
I have a boyfriend. I have a boyfriend but I came here to meet my secret admirer. Why?
Perhaps it was because you wanted to feel validated. The poems you got with the flowers, at least the ones you managed to hide were special to you. Whenever you doubted yourself, rereading the poems gave you the confidence you lacked.
The movie started.
Junpei was fidgeting with his fingers, no matter how much he tried he couldn’t focus on the movie. He had been wanting to see this one since it came out, the hype around the release of this movie and the reviews he had read made him more excited than ever, yet… Since you were here, his thoughts were full of you.
From the corner of his eye, he could see that you were staring at the silver screen but your expression was blank as if you weren’t paying any attention either.
He opened his mouth to say something but a scream coming from the female lead interrupted him. His attention involuntarily directed itself to the screen and soon, he sort of got invested in the storyline as you were having an internal debate with yourself.
There was an exciting scene that had him gripping to the sides of his seat, he was about to comment on the scene when he turned to face you but you were already looking at him, blushing.
Junpei didn’t understand the reason why you were blushing until he looked down. In the heat of the moment, he had placed his hand on top of yours on the seat’s cup holder.
A blush matching yours spread on his face and neck, he apologized before proceeding to lift his hand but you prevented him from pulling away by holding his hand.
Then, you intertwined your fingers together with his while scooting closer to the edge of your seat to close the distance between the two of you.
In that quiet moment of your hand tightly holding his own, Junpei started nodding as if he understood something and returned his attention to the screen.
He couldn’t focus on the rest of the movie, rather he focused on how warm your hand was or how sweaty his palm was.
Your head softly leaned on his tense shoulder. A wave of panic made Junpei’s eye look at you if you had died because -why else would you put your head on his shoulder? Yet, you were very much alive and you were still holding his hand tightly. He didn’t dare to move, not sure what exactly to do either.
Whether it be the most rational thing that came up to his mind or his own curiosity on how it felt, he tilted his head until his cheek pressed against your hair. Your warmth was enough to warm his heart, it gave him the comfort he had thought he would never get. The delicious smell of your shampoo invaded his nostrils almost instantly, a genuine smile spread on his face as you continued leaning on him.
“Why did you leave those flowers?”
The question was sudden.
“Because I… I have feelings for you.” His voice was quieter than a whisper out of consideration to not interrupt other people’s enjoyment of the movie.
“Why?”
“Why?” he echoed, thinking what to answer. There were too many reasons why. He couldn’t come up with just one. “Because you’re you.”
“What does that mean?” You lifted your head up to look at him.
“Well, it means that I like…” Geez, it was hard to say it out loud when you were looking. His cheeks were burning up and his eye was looking at everything but yours. “You’re beautiful and considerate. You care about others and you’re selfless. I guess I like you because you were kind to me back in high school.” The memory brought a smile to his complexion, you two were in the same film appreciation club in the past and were close friends if not best friends. “You’re not scared to be yourself. You always know what you want in life. I always wanted to be like you or rather be with you, kinda like adornment with a dash of being in love with you... I guess.”
Was he really describing you or some idea he had about you?
There was no way of knowing. You didn’t know who you were anymore. Not after you started dating your boyfriend.
If you had asked your boyfriend to describe you, what would he say?
Nevermind, you didn’t want to know.
“Hey,” Junpei called in a panicked voice, someone in the audience shushed again. “Are you alright? Did I say something wrong?”
You shook your head, tightening your hand around his while your eyes sparkled with gratitude. It made you look so kissable, your lips being parted slightly only made the thought a lot more irresistible.
Junpei’s face leaned closer to yours, he was moving hesitantly and slowly, waiting for your reaction. Instead of moving away, you were just staring at him but he felt like he was forcing you again.
Wanting you to make the decision, he stopped himself and closed his eyes, brows furrowing as his anxiety was eating him up. His heart hammered through his chest and he waited and waited and waited until something soft pressed on his lips.
He peeked with one eye to look at your face, the view made his heart skip a beat. Your eyes were closed, eyelashes fluttering as your glossy lips moved against his own. Having not much experience, he followed your lead, parting his lips and mirroring the way you moved yours, ignoring how wildly his body shook from excitement.
You tasted as sweet as you looked, your perfume filled his lungs and made his head spin. He was being conscious about a lot of things as your hand that was holding him moved to his shoulder and then to his neck to card your fingers through the short strands.
He could feel your warmth through your lips better than when he held your hand. He experimentally snaked his tongue inside your mouth to get a better glimpse of how you actually tasted.
Almost immediately, you opened your mouth to allow him entrance, letting his tongue hesitantly move along with yours. Teeth clashed once or twice but it did nothing other than making you giggle into the kiss.
His hand went to your cheek to caress it and pull your face closer until he could get a better angle to kiss you. There was something so endearing about the way he touched you, his touch was gentle, loving even. Something you hadn’t felt in a long time.
Once he pulled himself back, the small wet strands connecting your lips together thinned and broke apart.
Junpei was completely red and you knew you weren’t any different. His lips were swollen and pink, eyes full of admiration as he was looking at you. He was cherishing this moment.
The lights turned on, ruining the mood.
Both of you flinched and jumped back on your seats, unaware how you were practically on his lap before. It was kind of comedic, nobody would have cared if they saw two people being lovey-dovey in the back row of a theatre since it was something common yet both of you were acting like two young lovers who had been busted by their parents.
The awkwardness went away only after you exited the theater, holding Junpei’s hand.
“Your dress is really pretty,” he said to break the silence as you were walking down the street.
“Thanks, it has pockets,” you chirped, putting your free hand inside the small pocket to show it to him. “This is my favorite dress!”
“Cute,” he chuckled. His cheeks were still faintly blushed red but not as visible as before. Although his mind was clouded by many things and what was going to happen next, he didn’t dare to say anything that could ruin your smile. Not only because you looked gorgeous with a smile on your face but also because he knew you needed it.
“Junpei.”
“Hmm?”
“Wanna stop by somewhere?”
“Like for dinner? Sure, although I’m not hungry, I can watch you eat.”
“No,” you uttered, pointing towards somewhere.
Junpei’s eye followed where you were pointing your finger and his mouth gaped, cheeks flushing bright red instantaneously. He looked at you to see that you were blushing as well.
“It’s okay if you don’t wanna.” You were regretting making the suggestion.
“No, I wanna, definitely, yes, go.” He had to take a deep breath to calm himself before saying something that made sense. “You asked too suddenly.”
Nonetheless, you were the embarrassed one. He had to swallow down his own embarrassment to sheepishly drag you across the street and into the red light district. The hotel you had been pointing at had a large neon sign that read some nonsense like ‘secret getaway’ on it. You wondered if it was the absurdity of the sign or the situation which made you point at this specific hotel.
In front of the entrance, he hesitated walking inside.
“I can pay,” you said, mistaking the reason why he was hesitating.
“You don’t need to, I was just… thinking.” He was blushing again, how was he going to say this. He didn’t dare to say it out loud. Ugh, he had to. “I-I d-don’t have a condom with me.”
“I think they might sell some inside,” you hummed before getting on your tiptoes to whisper, “You don’t need one anyway.”
This time, his blood rushed south.
Your eyes landed on the not-so-small problem and softly giggled. “I guess I have to check us in, huh?”
“Please…” He used a hand to cover his face in embarrassment. “Don’t tease me about this.”
“I’ll try not to,” you said, pulling him inside the hotel, he quickly pulled his shirt down to cover the front of his pants. The reception was quiet, you chose a room that was the cheapest and got your room key from the receptionist.
Junpei let go of your hand to dive it in his pocket to fish out his wallet to pay for the room but you stopped him. He looked at you in question and you shook your head, retaking his hand. “We’ll pay when we’re leaving since we’re paying by the hour.”
He hadn’t realized how uninformed he was about this sort of stuff until today. He nodded slowly and let you lead him to the elevator and then to your room.
The awkward atmosphere was back as soon as you stepped inside the room. You finally let go of his hand to take off your shoes. While you placed your own neatly by the entrance hall, Junpei had just kicked off his shoes, leaving them as they were.
You walked further inside the room after fixing his shoes and placing them next to yours.
Junpei was busy checking the minibar as you sat on the bed, taking out your phone from your purse to check the time. It was close to evening time, your boyfriend would be back home soon. Shaking your head, you put your phone away and focused your stare on Junpei’s back. “Thank you.”
“For w-what?” His shoulders tensed at your words, it made you smile.
“For the flowers and the notes you left by my door.” You laid down on your back to feel how soft the sheets were. “Receiving them made me excited and feel validated.”
“I-it was nothing.” He walked over to the bed, it was too late to drink anything from the minibar, on top of that, the prices were way too expensive. “I always thought you found them stalkerish.”
The bed sank and creaked as he sat next to you.
“My boyfriend did.” Ah, right. Saying it out loud made you realize how silly the situation was. You were in a love hotel with someone who sent you flowers despite having a boyfriend.
“Yeah.” He didn’t know what to say, the mood had changed again.
Thankfully, you knew what to say.
“Have you ever jerked off to me?”
Caught off guard, Junpei squealed but then forced himself to laugh to avoid answering the question.
“Hmm?” You lifted your head from the bed to look at him, determined to get an answer to your question.
“I can’t answer that…” His voice died off lamely, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.
“It’s just a question,” you replied, encouraging him to tell you the truth.
He mumbled.
“What?” You smirked, “I couldn’t hear you.”
“I said maybe!” He covered his face with his hands. Another involuntary blush colored his cheeks and neck. The sound of the fabric rustling as you perhaps leaned closer to him filled the room, but all he could hear was his heartbeat in his ears. It seemed like an eternity until you said something.
“How?” you asked, almost sheepishly.
His eye opened widely. Was he hearing things? “What?”
“How did you do it?” His eye met yours again, then turned down briefly to his lap before returning his attention toward you.
He was frozen. He slowly processed your words, pausing for a moment. Had you really asked him that? Did he imagine that? Junpei stayed in his position for a while. He didn't dare to move.
You put a hand on his knee, sending a shiver down his spine as your hand moved up to his thigh.
“(name),” he breathed, the anticipation of what was to come made his cock twitch in his pants.
“Junpei,” you echoed, grabbing his thigh and letting your fingers brush against the growing bulge. “Tell me, how did you?”
He was biting his lip as your hands fiddled with his pants, pulling the zipper down and humming.
It all felt like a dream, something he would have fantasized about when he had his hand wrapped around his cock late at night. Not something that would actually happen in a million years. Yet, it was happening right now at this moment.
“I imagined you touching me,” he revealed when you cupped his bulge.
“How?”
“Naked and-” You tugged at the front of his pants, he lifted his hips and pulled them down.
“And?” Your fingers hooked under the waistband of his boxers, smiling mischievously.
“Under me,” he gasped as you pulled his underwear down to free his half-hard cock.
“Under you?” Wrapping a hand around the base of his cock, you lowered your mouth towards his cock, lolling out your tongue, you let your drool drizzle down on him. Slowly, you moved your hand from the base to the tip, spreading your drool to use it as lubrication.
“Y-yeah.” His hands gripped the sheets tightly. His cock was fully hard and was throbbing in your hand. “Under me.”
Your hand pumped his cock for the first time, it made a faint click sound. “Tell me more.” Using your thumb, you gently pulled back the thin layer of skin to expose the tip of his cock that was glistening with precum. With your forefinger, you tapped on the liquid and moved your finger away to see how far it would stretch. “Or better, why don’t you demonstrate it for me?”
Something snapped inside him.
Junpei grabbed you by your hair and pulled you up before locking your lips together in less than a second. His hand continued pulling you closer to himself while his tongue slipped out to explore your mouth once again. You sucked on his tongue and stroked his cock while grabbing a chunk of his hair in your other hand. You pulled his hair and opened your mouth widely to take the lead and this time you wanted to savor his taste.
Junpei’s free hand went to your ass, groping it and squeezing it as tightly as he could to get you to moan into the kiss and when you did, he lifted your leg to take you under him. Now, he was able to press himself on you.
You turned your face away for Junpei to kiss your neck, so you could jerk him off faster. He pecked on your neck and licked the sensitive skin until he reached your collarbone to nibble on your skin. Desperate to leave a mark of possession.
“Junpei,” you chanted, wanting to warn him about not leaving a mark. “Don’t-”
His teeth sank into your skin, hard enough to draw blood and your body squirmed in pleasure under him. An intense moan left your lips and you retrieved your hand from his cock to instead push his hair back.
Exposing his forehead, made him pull himself back from you. None of you dared to say anything as you gazed at each other. Your eyes were on his scars, albeit you were shocked, you managed to not show it on your face and instead pulled him closer to press a gentle kiss on his scars.
Your hands slid down to his cheeks and you squished them together, before pulling them back to take off your panties. You didn’t even get to take them off properly as Junpei balanced himself on a balled-up fist and hiked the skirt of your dress up. Although you wanted to offer him to take off your dress and panties, he was already positioning himself between your legs.
He stood still for a moment to look at you under him. Legs spread, hair and dress a mess while panties stuck on one ankle. He had never imagined he would see you like this when he left his house today. If he did, he would have been a lot more prepared.
Like bringing a condom.
“Is it really okay?” he asked.
You nodded, not really understanding what he was asking.
Without wasting another precious second, Junpei tapped his cock on your clit, dragging the tip back and forth between your folds before pushing the tip in. He pushed in deeper, letting out a groan in the process when your gummy walls squeezed around him.
You gasped softly, legs wrapping around his hips.
He took a moment to get himself together, it felt like he was going to cum if he moved. This was nothing like what he had imagined.
Whimpering, you moved your hips to tell him to move.
Junpei nodded, unable to let a single syllable out because of the way you clenched around him. He took a deep breath before tentatively pulling his hips back and slamming into you.
Your lips opened in a silent moan and he leaned down to press his lips onto yours as his hips started moving. His pace was irregular, the snap of his hips was brutal but his cock stroked all the good spots.
Arms wrapping around his neck, you held onto him for dear life when his cock began hammering into you. The girth of his cock was stretching you to your limit but the length was worse, with each snap of his hips, you felt the tip kiss your cervix.
The kiss turned sloppy soon enough, both of you were covered in each other's drool from moving your lips clumsily and thanks to the impact of Junpei humping your cunt like a rabid dog in heat.
His hands went to fondle your tits, he pulled the front of your dress down and dove his hands inside your bra to pinch your nipples, he was excitedly breathing into your mouth.
Both of you were close, he knew because you were a moaning mess, moving your hips desperately to meet his thrusts and his cock was twitching inside you because of how you wanted him like he wanted you.
“I’m- I’m gonna-” He couldn’t even finish his sentence.
When you felt his cock throbbing inside you, your legs wrapped around him tighter preventing him from pulling out. Once it occurred to him that you weren’t letting him go, he surged his forward as far as he could to bury his cock deep in your pussy. The tip of his cock pressed against your cervix and your gummy walls clenched around him.
Junpei’s eye rolled up while he spilled his seed inside your womb and in your pussy, filling you up to the brim. He pulled out to watch his seed oozing out from your gaping hole, he used his thumb to spread your folds wider and smiled in awe.
A moan left your lips, legs shaking in the pleasure of your tummy being full of his cum.
Junpei crawled next to you and put his head on your chest, his hand playing with your breast over your bra as the two of you caught your breaths.
There was a soft silence while you petted his hair and watched the ceiling.
You didn’t know what time it was but it had been long enough.
It was time to go home.
When you arrived at your apartment building, you retrieved your hand that was holding Junpei’s reluctantly. The smile Junpei wished you didn’t lose on your face was gone, instead, there was a broken smile.
He opened the building door for you and pressed the elevator call button. You were clutching on your purse, looking everywhere but his way. Maybe you were thinking that you made a mistake, Junpei knew he couldn’t compete with your boyfriend after all.
The elevator doors opened. The two of you got in. He pressed your floor. After an agonizingly long pause, the doors closed with a soft bell chime.
Having previously made your decision, you grabbed Junpei by his collar and pulled him down to kiss him greedily. Dumbfounded, he kissed you back. Although he wanted to use his hands to caress your body, the elevator’s bell chimed again, alerting that the doors were opening.
You pecked on his lips before letting go of his collar, brightly beaming at him.
His lips curled up into a smile matching yours.
Together, you walked past his apartment and to your place while holding hands, thankfully moving your stuff to the next door was easy.
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forever-rogue · 3 years
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Afterglow - Part 6
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A/N: Honey Bee finally made the smartest decision of her life in the last chapter and now...time to deal with the fallout. Thank you guys for supporting and loving this story too! As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx 💕
Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 6.5k
Warnings: None
AFTERGLOW MASTERLIST
MASTERLIST
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Spitting out the toothpaste into the sink, you groaned slightly when you realized that you had left your mouthwash back on your desk. Tilting your head under the tap, you got a mouthful of water and swished it around in your mouth, trying to get the last bits of toothpaste out.
When you were satisfied with the lackluster brushing, you quickly splashed some cold water onto your face to wake yourself up. But it was no use - you still looked as tired and dragged out as you felt. There were dark circles under your eyes, your lips were chapped and cracked, and the joy you normally held in your eyes was all but gone. You had been going through the motions for the last three, feeling more like an empty shell than anything else. 
But you felt liberated - free. More so than you had in a long time. That in itself made your current struggle worth it.
Grabbing your toothpaste, toothbrush, and hairbrush, you stalked out of the bathroom, ready to slink back to your office before anyone else arrived. 
Looking furtively around the hall, you walked the short distance to your own office, almost making it to safety when you heard your name being called softly. Groaning inwardly, you cleared your throat and turned around, plastering on the best smile you could.
"Ally," you said softly, "y-you're here early!"
"I was just thinking the same thing," she joked, and while you could tell she meant no harm, it still caused you to panic slightly. She was well aware of you calling off your engagement, hell the whole world seemed to know, but she never seemed to pity you for it. Her eyes flicked to the items in your hands as a warmth crept into your chest and blossomed over your whole face, "I'm meeting a client early this morning because it was the only thing that fit into his schedule. Are you..."
You remained silent for a moment, hanging your head before letting out a long sigh, "look, I've just been staying here since things ended with Chad. I'm trying to find my own place, but its been a bit of a difficult go. Turns that a lot of people don't want to rent to you if you happen to have supposedly wronged Chad Williams. It seems like everyone knows him."
She reached out and gave your shoulder a soft, reassuring squeeze. Meeting her eyes, you found a small smile on her face, luckily not one of pity, "I'm sorry he's making things miserable still. I'm guessing your parents are out of the question?"
"Absolutely not an option," you admitted with a stiff laugh, "my mom seemed okay at first but she and my father quickly came to the conclusion that I was in the wrong and making a horrible mistake. They insisted I was just going through a phase because of nerves. When I told them I was sure about my decision and wasn’t going back, they all but...disowned me. Imagine the shame I’ve brought upon them in their minds...they’re so old fashioned. Maybe they’ll come around one day.”
"Yikes," she said as you nodded, "can I be honest with you?"
"Of course."
"I never liked him," she admitted softly, causing you to almost give yourself whiplash as you looked over at her, "there was just something about him that was off. I think - I know, you can do so much better."
"Thank you," you said as you laughed lightly, trying to hold the tears that threatened to well up at bay, "I hope so too."
"I mean it," she insisted, "you're kind, smart, pretty, and you've got a good heart. What more could anyone ask for?"
"Apparently a dutiful, quiet little wife..."
"Very funny," she teased, "why don't you come and stay with us? While you get your own place? We've got an extra bedroom that's not being used, and it's much better than staying here. Have you been sleeping on your hard old couch?”
"Yes..."
"Absolutely not," she shook her head, "come over when you're done for the day. We'll get the room ready for you. Anna will be happy to see you again too. And you know what, it's not an option, its a demand. Just come over tonight and we'll get you settled. I'll have Anna pick up some wine for dinner and everything."
"Ally, you're much too kind..." you said as her phone stared to ring. She looked at the screen and a big smile spread across her visage as her wife's name popped up on the screen.
"Speak of the devil," she laughed lightly, "tonight! No if, ands, or buts!"
You could only nod as she walked away, chattering excitedly as she went to her own office. Before stepping in and closing the door, she gave you a grin and wave that was enough to cause a single tear to roll down your cheek. It had been weeks since anyone had even shown you an ounce of kindness; most people had decided to scorn you instead, blaming you for everything that had happened. Wiping the warm drop away, you stepped foot into your own office, stashing your toiletries away for what you hoped would be the last time. Hopefully that everything you'd finally be able to have a proper, long, hot shower and sleep in a bed, two luxuries that you had been greatly missing. 
Pulling out a dress from the small wardrobe, you slipped it on, vowing to stop your little pity party. Sure, things weren't ideal right now, but you were still so much better off than others. That was something you did not take for granted.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
“Men really can be the worst,” Anna laughed, almost snorting into her wine as you held up your glass in a mock salute, “can you imagine being that pathetic and trying to sabotage someone you supposedly loved? I think it speaks volumes to his character.”
“The longer we were together, the more I realized that it was never about love, even if that’s how it started out. It was always about appearances and trying to please everyone else. It was getting so tiring.”
“I can only imagine,” Ally gave her your leg a small pat as you downed the rest of your glass, “but at least you’re free now. It’s easy to fall  into routine and not realize how unhappy we’ve become. We get used to just staying on one path. Usually it takes something big to make us realize what we’re doing isn’t what we wanted in the first place.”
“Okay Dr. Ally,” Anna teased her wife, “we’re not at the office. But I agree...I am curious, and happy, as to what caused you to realize that you deserve more.”
You felt the blood draining from your face almost immediately as you swallowed nervously, mouth dry. You weren’t about to delve into the memories and dreams that had been plaguing you over the weeks, becoming increasingly more frequent the closer your former wedding date had approached. Frankly, you hadn’t even admitted that to yourself yet, not out loud anyway. 
How were you supposed to tell yourself, let anyone else, that the reason you realized you deserved was better because you’d been dreaming of your high school boyfriend again? It had been twenty years, twenty long years without him - there was no reason you should have even given him a second thought. Yet...here you were. Still hung up on Frankie Morales, the boy that had earned your heart...and then brought it into a million pieces. You knew, you would be the first to admit, that it wasn’t all his fault, that you were to blame to an extent as well, but it didn’t make it any easier.
Ever since the day that you had run into him again, a day that should have been like any other, he’d been living rent free in your mind. Even if you hated him, even if you were still mad at him after all this time. You couldn’t help but wonder - what if. What if. 
What if he had come to California with you and you’d both stayed there? What if you had waited for him while you went to school and he was in the military? What if he’d come back to you long ago? Would you still be together? Would you be married to him? Would  you have a daughter or son that took on both of your best qualities? Or would you have eventually fallen out and broken up anyway, only to loathe each with every fiber of your being? Would you have stayed together?”
What if. What if. What if. 
It was that haunted you for so long now.
“Umm,” you snapped back into reality and pushed the thought of the boy you had loved out of your mind. You set the glass back down and made a small, noncommittal sound, “it was just a lot of things. The more real things became with the wedding planning the more I realized that I didn’t want this. It was at my last dress fitting actually, that I realized I couldn’t do it.” 
“That must have been quite a wake up call,” Anna’s eyes widened as she imagined the scene as you nodded, taking the almost empty bottle of wine and pouring the remainder into your class. 
“It was,” you admitted with a long sigh, “you should have been the poor dress maker. I almost ran out on her. But you know, even though things are far from perfect right now, I would still do it all again.”
“Cheers to that,” Ally held up her class, and the two of you clinked yours against it, “now to bigger and better things. You can, and will, do so much better.”
“Thank you both,” just being in their presence, let alone their home, had you feeling infinitely better, “I don’t even know where to begin to thank you.”
“What are friends for?” 
“I, however, do have some more good news,” Anna was proud of herself as the two of your gave her an inquisitive look, “I spoke to my friend who is a realtor today, no connection to Chad or anything, and he said he has a perfect little house available! It’s a little on the outskirts of town, a small, quiet neighborhood, but that it would be perfect for you. It’s not big, just a little two bedroom, one bath, but it’s all been redone recently, and it’s quaint. He showed me some pictures and I think you’d really like it.”
“You did...you did this for me?” you felt another wave of tears sting at the back of your eyes as she nodded. 
“I’m not trying to push this on you at all, or anything of the sort,” she promised, “but we were talking and it just came up and I thought of you. I thought I’d just tell you in case you were interested...you are, of course, welcome to stay with us however long you want.”
“I can’t thank you enough,” you said softly, “truly. I’d love to see the place. If you like, I’m sure it’ll be great. And honestly, it would be nice to get out of the city and be a little bit out of the way and I don’t need anything much. I just want a place that will feel like home...my own place.”
“Obviously it comes with the stipulation that we will get to help decorate and pick out furniture if you move into it.”
“I would expect nothing less,” you agreed, “it’s going to be nice getting my own things and having it be truly mine.”
“A fresh start,” she agreed, “I’ll tell Elijah that we’ll stop by tomorrow and take a look? How does that sound?”
“Perfect,” you agreed, feeling your heart finally feel warm again, as a wave of calm washed over you, “absolutely perfect.”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
The next two weeks were a whirlwind of moving, although you technically didn’t have much to move, furniture shopping, unpacking, and organizing your new home. 
The house was cute, an older little home that had been recently renovated with a small yard and  a perfect spot for a garden. You could already picture yourself gardening once the cooler autumn and winter months were over. 
It wasn’t huge, but it had a spare bedroom you decided would serve as a home office and occasional guest room, although you figured you weren’t going to have many of those considering how easily everyone had cut you off. It was open, warm, and inviting, and it was perfect for what you wanted. It had brought up the idea of maybe adopting a dog or cat to keep as your friend. It had made you think of something that Frankie always said: anyone who wasn’t willing to share their home with an animal was as good as heartless.
It served as a sharp contrast to your former living situation; everything in the apartment you had shared with Chad had been cold, dark, and minimalistic. Nothing about it had ever felt truly homey, more like an ornate display at an art museum you were afraid to even look at. Chad had never wanted an animal of any sorts, not even a goldfish, claiming that it would take up too much time, too much space, and he just didn’t want something to take care of.
But your new home was the polar opposite, it was romantic and airy and filled with items and trinkets that made it feel like a home. A little animal friend would fit in perfectly. You were fitting in perfectly already. 
You’d even made it a point to go around the neighborhood and introduce yourself to people. Your justification was that you had literally nothing to lose, your family had turned their backs on you, your ex-fiance had taken almost all of the so called friends you’d had, and were left to your own devices. In the worst case scenario, you’d have met a few unsavory people, and in the best case scenario you’d get to know your neighbors and maybe make a few friends.
Something in the stars seemed to align, as your neighbors turned out to be kind and welcoming, and you were sure the cookies you offered them weren't a deterrent either. They were mostly either older couples, or small families, a few roommates that lived together. The normalcy of it all was endearing, and to know that you had a place that you were welcome was enough to let your heart rest easy. 
The only mystery that remained was your next door neighbor, the one on your left side. Whoever it was had been missing, gone or something, since you’d moved in several weeks before. While trying to maintain a respectful distance, you’d kept an eye on the house to see if you could spy anyone coming or going, see a car...something. But you never did - not even seen so much as a porch light flicker on. It seemed odd, especially in this neighborhood.
One afternoon, in the middle of unpacking the new bits of furniture for your living room and rearranging everything for about the tenth time, curiosity got the better of you. Maybe it was because you were in the middle of watching some true crime documentaries as you worked but you just felt...nervous. You were concerned about the health and safety of this mysterious neighbor that you hadn’t even met. You’d hastily wiped the sweat from your brow before rushing over to the neighbor on the other side of the seemingly nonexistent neighbor. 
Unfortunately, much to your chagrin, the other neighbor, an older widowed man by the name of Eddie, who happened to have an adorable dog that you decided you’d offer to take on walks, was just as clueless as you. 
He said he’d seen the man, at least you narrowed it down to that much, come on and go on occasion, but that he kept odd hours. He commented that he must have worked evenings or something, because he wasn’t around much at that time and it was always quiet during the day. Apparently it wasn’t odd for him to be gone for days at a time, or at least for no one to notice him. At least he’d be a quiet neighbor if he ever appeared again. But the older man hadn’t seemed too concerned, so figured there was nothing to worry about. You ended finding out that he was likely around your age, with dark hair. That was about all that Eddie knew; he said the man whose name he couldn’t even remember had always kept to himself since he’d moved in a few years ago. 
You’d thanked him, given the small fluffy dog a few pets and trudged back to your own place, arms filled with various baked goods, including a delicious smelling loaf of banana bread. Eddie had proudly declared that he had taken up the hobby of baking in his retirement and he always had been plenty to share. You made a mental note to store that little piece of info away for future use. 
And yet still, even as more days passed, you still didn’t see hide nor hair of the mystery man. You’d gone to work each morning, wondering if maybe you just missed him and you had conflicting schedules. You didn’t know why you even cared so much, or what drew you to solving this mystery, but you were just inexplicably invested. 
One evening, as you were watching some Netflix and unwinding with a glass of wine, browsing the adoptable animals at the local shelter, it hit you. It was like the proverbial lightbulb had been switched on and you came up with a brilliant idea. When you’d moved in, you’d taken some fresh, homemade cookies to everyone in the small cul-de-sac - why didn’t you just make some for him? 
It was brilliant, you thought to yourself as you set the wine glass down and almost tossed your laptop to the floor in excitement. You would make your favorite cookies, soft, gooey chocolate chip ones you fancied so much, get them all safely in a container and drop them off when you felt for work in the morning. If they were gone by the time you came home that would mean he had to have been there. 
Yes, you thought to yourself, this is brilliant. No one could turn down a plate of fresh cookies. 
So you’d spent the rest of the evening, bouncing around the kitchen excitedly, pouring your heart and soul into the every little step it took to make the perfect treat. By the time you’d gone to bed, excited and worn out, the little package was sitting on your counter for your to grab on your way out. This was going to be it, you just knew it.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
You woke up early the next morning, even before your alarm went off, a smile on your face despite being tired. You almost stopped dead in your tracks when you realized that this was the first, the first time in what felt like a small eternity that you woke up like that. It was a good feeling, and you hoped that you would be able to hang onto it. 
Once you’d showered and done up your makeup and hair to your liking, you slipped on a pretty golden dress. It always made you feel pretty, the color bringing a slight bit of joy into your heart. You always felt confident and good in it, and you decided it was just what you needed. If your last session ended early enough, you even planned on stopping by the animal shelter to see if you made a connection with any of the adoptable animals. It was going to be a good day. You could feel it in your bones. 
Once you were ready to go, you grabbed your pre-packed lunch from the fridge, along with your purse and the package for your mystery neighbor. Almost flouncing over to his porch because you were buzzing with energy, you hopped up the steps and set it on the front porch and center, in the middle of the doormat, topped off with a handwritten note introducing yourself. The mat was a generic one, and you did a little look around to see if you could find a name or any personal touches around the porch. But there was nothing - no clue as to who it could be. It was no matter, you told yourself, you would have your answers soon enough.
Giving the neatly wrapped container one last fond look, you headed to your car and off to work. Hopefully you’d be busy enough to keep your mind occupied. It was silly to get so invested in something so trivial and yet...here you were. An eternal dreamer and optimist at heart, just like you always had been, even as a teenager. Even if you had to suppress that side of yourself for some time, more so with each passing year, you were still the same girl underneath it all. 
The day felt like it had like it went by in a blur as you saw several of your regular patients, feeling like you were finally able to help them properly and give them your undivided attention. It went so well that you did manage to finish up early, which meant  you could have your fun and go look at animals. You knew it would be a challenge to meet different pets and not be able to take them all home, but you were willing to give it the old college try. 
You hadn’t bothered to stop home and change, opting to go straight to the shelter.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
As soon as you'd gotten there and started looking at the different dogs, you knew it would be hard. 
So many of the sweet dogs came up to you, some wagging their tails in nervous excitement, some just beside themselves, but others were more reluctant, sitting and observing you. You went up to as many as you could, keeping a respectful distance from them and offering them your hand to sniff. A couple of them give you a few licks, letting you reach in and pet them, but getting distracted as soon as they spied other people. Sweet dogs, all of them, but those weren’t the ones for you. As you walked through the various dogs, you were disheartened to find that you didn’t seem to have a connection to any of them. You hoped they would go to good homes soon regardless. Maybe it wasn’t your day to find a companion, which was totally okay with you. You’d just come back some other day and make sure that one of them got a home in your adobe.
But as you neared the end of the last row, you stopped when you spotted a small dog, small for being a pitbull that was, sitting in the corner of her kennel, a sad, dejected look on her face. She was a pretty thing, light tan with white marking on her sweet face, but her eyes contained a deep sadness.
“Hi, sweet girl,” you said softly as you didn’t even hesitate to drop to your knees, dropping on the floor of the kennel, sliding a few fingers under the barrier keeping you from her, trying to coax her to you. She observed you with keen interest, but remained rooted in her spot, “you are so pretty! I bet you’re just as sweet too, aren’t you? I can tell…”
“She’s very sweet,” one of the shelter’s volunteers, a young boy by the name of Lucas that had let you in, said as he walked up to you, “but she’s really shy. She’s less than a year old, but she’s already had a go of it.”
“What happened to her?” you asked gently, keeping your voice down so you wouldn’t startle her, “she looks so sad.”
“She was abused by her former owner, sadly. They found her when they went to raid the owner’s home, apparently he was a small time drug dealer on top of it,” he explained and you made a small in the back of your throat as you just looked at her. It made your heart break to know that this poor animal, and so many others like her, were being abused for no reason - not that anyone, person or animal, should ever have been abused, “it’s made her shy, but she does warm up to people.”
“What’s her name?” you asked as she moved ever so marginally closer to you. You smiled at her, giving her an encouraging little nod.
“Daisy.”
“Daisy,” you called softly as her ears perked up slightly. It suited her, you decided, a soft pretty name for a pretty girl, “hi sweet Daisy. You are a big lovebug underneath it all, aren’t you?”
She turned her slightly to look at as you offered her a small, reassuring nod. 
“How about Miss Daisy Mae?” you asked her and you got a glimpse of her tail wagging ever so slightly, “yeah, I think that’s perfect too. May I pet you?”
It was silent, completely so sans for the other dogs in their kennels as you attempted to gain her trust. You didn’t want to scare her off, but you wanted to see if you could get her to come closer. Lucas told you could stay as long as you wanted, and you decided that you would do just that, plopping onto your bottom as you gently spoke to her. You spent some time sitting there, talking to her about anything and everything, and slowly, inch by precious inch, she came closer to you until she was just a few inches from your hand. When you moved your hand and she didn’t flinch, you gently petted her muzzle, tracing over it delicately with a few fingers. 
“You’ve been through a lot,” you mused quietly and she gently rubbed her head into your hand, “but you’ve got so much life left to live. So many happy things to come. Would you like to come home with me and see? I have a big bed that I have all to myself, and I could really use a companion to take up some of the space. Would you like to help me?”
She made a small sound as she looked up at you, her tail wagging ever so slightly. That was enough to convince you that you were making the right decision. Giving Daisy one last gentle touch, you slowly pulled your hand back to keep from startling her and jumped to your feet. She was yours, it hadn’t taken much to figure that out, and you were going to make sure she came home with you. 
Telling her you would be back in a little bit, you went off in search of Lucas, to tell him to get you all the paperwork so you could bring her home with that day.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
As soon as Daisy was all yours, you’d set her up in your car, draping a big, soft blanket over the backseat for her. You were glad you kept one in your car for whatever occasion called for it; this was the perfect time. As soon as she seemed to realize what was happening, Daisy’s eyes had lit up and she already seemed like a different dog, her tail going softly, but nonstop as she stayed close to your side. 
You’d stopped by the pet store on your way home, bringing her in with you as you stocked up on the best dog food, treats, several big fluffy beds (one for each room of the house naturally), and let her pick out several toys. Whatever she wanted she got, honestly, and before you knew it before pushing a huge cartful to the counter to the pay. Daisy, now in a pretty yellow collar and leash, followed closely by your side, a little stuffed bear in her mouth. This felt so right, so natural, almost like you had meant to find her. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had felt this much joy in your heart, and you hoped the feeling would never go away.
“And this is where we live,” you told her as you pulled into the driveway, pulling up to the garage and turning off the car. She stood up and went to the window, looking out eagerly. Your break broke a little when you realize she probably never got to run and play like any puppy should, but you vowed to change that. You got and opened the door, not even bothering to stop her as she jumped out and started to sniff everywhere. 
Sighing contentedly at the sight of the happy dog, the one that had quickly turned from nervous to optimistic, you started to gather everything out of the car to bring inside. Daisy came back to your side, following you with keen attention as you opened the door to the house and let her explore. 
It wasn’t until your last excursion to the car to bring in the last of the toys, that your attention wandered back to your MIA neighbor. When you studied his house, you noticed that all the lights were off, and there was no car in the driveway. The package you had you left for him was still right where you had placed that morning. A small, dejected sigh left your lips as you quickly dashed over and retrieved the package. It was only slightly heartbreaking,  but you knew it wasn’t due to any fault of yours. But still...you couldn’t help but wonder. Who was he? Where was he? Maybe one day your questions would be answered, but at least for now you had your new friend to keep you company. Just as you thought about her, you heard a small, almost tiny bark from your door as Daisy poked her head out and looked excitedly at you.
“Coming sweet girl!” you promised her as you ran back over to her. This day was decidedly not a waste in the slightest, you reminded yourself, you had a new friend and that was more important than anything else.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Several more days passed, and Daisy adjusted to life with you without a hitch. She really was the sweetest girl you had met, and she had won a big spot in your heart, and bed, almost instantly. Gone were the cookies you had baked for the neighbor you thought might not actually exist, eaten with some milk as you watched Netflix late into the evening with Daisy snoozing next to you. 
Something though, whatever little stubborn streak you had, told you to keep trying.
So you did.
That night you dragged yourself back to the kitchen and repeated the painstaking process of making your now neighborhood famous cookies again. He was going to get these cookies come hell or high water. This time Daisy joined you in the kitchen and watched your every move intently, as you walked her through the process, giving her your best impression of some lofty Food Network chef. 
Just as you had previously done earlier in the week, you prepped everything and stuck the same note on the top, making sure it looked perfect. Even if it ended up as another batch that you would eat, you wanted to go through the efforts and ensure it was perfect. 
The next morning, you herded Daisy into the car, allowing her to come to your office with you. She had been enjoying coming to your office and greeting your clients, being a good girl and laying on her bed while you worked. Many of them seemed to find her comforting, and as thought she could sense when they needed something, which she probably did, she’d often go to comfort them with wet kisses and nuzzles. Ally had suggested that you look into her having certified as a therapy dog, which you decided was a perfect idea. 
You wandered over to his porch and left the little package again and turned to head off to work. Whatever was meant to happen would happen. So if he didn’t come and get the cookies, so be it. You’d stop worrying about it and let it go. 
When you got home that evening, you brought everything inside and let Daisy into the backyard to roam around before her dinner time, when you looked through the front windows to try and see your neighbor’s porch. You huffed when you came to the conclusion that you were at just the wrong angle to be able to see anything. Stalking out the front door to get a better look, you sighed deeply when the package was once again there. What had you really expected? You’d struck out for weeks now, the man was an enigma to yourself and everyone else around, it was a far cry that you’d ever really see him. 
Grumbling at yourself for being too hopeful and optimistic, you trudged over to his porch, ready to take the cookies back again and enjoy them for yourself. Maybe you could bring them, and Daisy, over to Eddie and see if he would enjoy them and the dogs would get along. It wasn’t terribly exciting, but it was something anyway.
You bent down to pick up the small container, ready to head back home and get on with your day. But just as you swooped up the container, you heard the door unlock, causing you to jump back in surprise, dropping the container and letting it clatter to the ground. You took a step back and looked up, finding the door open, but the screen closed. Squinting your eyes, you tried to make out the person on the other side but found it almost impossible. 
“H-hi,” you stammered nervously, hoping the person wouldn’t think you were stealing or snooping around, “I-I moved into the neighborhood a few weeks ago, and I was just...I made cookies! I was going to introduce myself but I hadn’t seen you or anything, so I figured I’d leave them for you. They-they’re not old though, I made this batch last night.”
Nothing but silence met your ears for several moments as you nervously picked up the container to display it for him. You were nervous suddenly, terrified that you had somehow offended him, or...something.
“I-I’ll get going,” you said as you set the cookies on the bench that was near the door. Unsure why you felt the need to keep speaking you gave him your name, letting it linger in the air for a moment, “I live right next door, so I guess maybe I will see you around. Yeah...well, umm...goodbye!”
But before you made it off the porch, you heard the screen door open, and swing shut. You swallowed the lump in your throat, ready to turn around and make a proper introduction when you heard your name whispered so quietly, that you thought you might have imagined it. That voice...that soft, gentle voice caused your heart to skip a few beats. You knew that voice. 
Turning around slowly, you came face to face with the man that had been on your mind for weeks. You brought your eyes up to the man’s face and a small gasp of surprise left your lips. 
“F-Frankie?” except this wasn’t the Frankie you’d known. No, this man was tired looking, nothing but sheer exhaustion on his face, dark circles, parched lips, no trace of facial hair, his hair flattened from what you knew was a signature hat. This was a different man, a world weary man, a man who you never intended on seeing again. But you knew that voice, you knew it so well, you’d recognize it anywhere, even after all this time. But there was something about him, how he was looking at you that broke our heart. 
He remained silent as his dark eyes watched you, wondering how and why on earth you’d ended up as his neighbor. It was like some force was at play, some weird thing that kept bringing the two of you together. 
He remained silent as the two of you looked at each other, his eyes quickly flicked to your left hand. You straightened up when you noticed that and got ready to walk away, unsure of how to feel in that moment. Once again, your life was thrown in a complete tailspin. 
You swallowed the lump in your throat, unable to find any words. 
But before you could leave his porch, his hand went to your wrist, taking it gently in his large hand as you immediately turned around and gave him a wide eyed stare.
Your chest was rising and falling rapidly as you looked at him in silent question, and he did the same. 
This was Frankie - your Frankie. After all these years, he was still yours.
Before either of you could say anything, he gently grabbed your face and studied it for a moment before crashing his lips onto yours. It took a moment for you to react, and for a few beats before you kissed him back, not even having to think about it. But just as quickly as it had started you came to your senses and while part of you was screaming to continue to kiss him, the logical part of your brain took over and you pushed him away from you. Immediately realizing what you were doing, he let go of you and took a step back. 
“Don’t,” you insisted sharply, your voice crackling on the singular word, “don’t. You don’t get to do that. I shouldn’t have done that. Not anymore. Never again.”
Before he could say anything, you dashed away from him, running back over to your house. This had to be some sort of weird dream, surely life couldn’t be throwing another challenge at you. Surely you’d been through enough.
Surely you weren’t neighbors, after all this time and years, with Frankie Morales. 
Life couldn’t be that cruel...right?
»»————- ♡ ————-««
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orbitvenus · 3 years
Text
this post is inspired by this reblog of mine <33 check it if you want to!!
Pairing: timeskip!Tendou x fem!Reader
Genre: fluff and drabble
Warning: grammar errors, its uhhh cheesy ig, bland dialogues because I suck at them, ooc??? and maybe some swearing
I hope this won't plop😭 also someone help me how to describe other gestures besides the forehead kisses,knuckle kisses and hugs that I always include in my writings
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You and Tendou have been together for a long time. When he asked you to join and live with him in Paris, you immediately said yes knowing you'll be fine with him even though you have to leave your home country behind. Moving to another country is pretty tough at first, but slowly the two of you began to adjust and create a routine.
Now, you and tendou are about to celebrate your anniversary. He asked you to dress up prettily. You asked why he just smiled and said this anniversary is much special so its important. You raised your eyebrows as if every anniversary you had with him wasn't special. To you all the anniversaries you had were always special, each one is unique filled with happy memories and for this year you still look forward to what he had prepared.
He told you he will be picking you up later while he will be doing some business. He pulled you close to him and nuzzled his head to your neck like a cat which made you chuckle.
'Keep safe okay.'
'Yes yes no worries babe.' He spoke, muffled because he's still nuzzled on your neck.
He pulled away and looked at you lovingly before leaving. You stood there dumbfounded until the door is shut. He always looks at you with adoration that you never fail to send back at him but you noticed that his behavior today is....quiet weird. You decided to shrug it off.
You took a shower and stepped out to go to your bedroom. In your bed is a box with a note that came none other than from Satori.
'wear this for me.'
-satori♡
You smiled and opened the lid of the box. You pulled out the dress and admired it. Realizing it was the dress you mentioned to him that you've been dying to get. You felt fuzzy and warm with your heart fluttering in your chest realizing he remembered it and got it for you. You made a mental note for yourself to repay him. Snapping out of your daze, you hurriedly dressed up yourself as you saw the clock nearing to the time where Satori promised you to pick you up.
You were still trying to wear your shoes when you heard knocks behind your apartment's door. After finally wearing your shoes, you turned the doorknob and met your boyfriend all dressed up as you.
'There's my baby, I knew it would look perfect on you.'
His words always make you blush even though you two are no longer teenagers.
'Thanks you too.'
You walked near him and fixed his collar, inhaling his perfume as you come closer. You rested your hands on his chest. Taking a look at his form, he looks handsome as ever.
'Babe if you kept staring at me I will definitely melt.'
He teasingly commented. You playfully rolled your eyes at him and grabbed his hand to leave even if you don't have any idea where he will take you.
'Lets go now, don't want us to be late yeah?'
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You were met with the breeze coming from the sea while walking, hands in hands with Tendou. Looking around the place is quiet with only the two of you walking towards a boat. The boat is decorated with flowers and battery operated candles we don't want any incidents to happen don't we. Tendou was first to step inside the small boat and held out his hand.
'Hop in my lady~'
He said it while looking at your eyes and grinning. You took it and stepped in with him while he's keeping the boat steady.
'Careful..careful okay there'
You got in and he gestured you to sit down. You sat opposite of your boyfriend and beside you is a picnic basket with wine and two wine glasses along with some food inside. Satori pushed the boat so it will move further to the sea and began rowing. While he was rowing you took the time to admire everything including him. He's still pretty muscular even if he already quitted volleyball but he continued to maintain his physique by exercising from time to time. The sun is beginning to set, casting the skies a beautiful orange glow.
Satori stopped rowing the boat and looked at you. Seeing that awe struck expression in your face, he knew he succeeded again. You felt his eyes on you and faced your body towards him.
'So....where did you learn how to row?'
'One of the locals who rents boats taught me how, to be honest I thought it was gonna be easy but I was wrong.'
You laughed lightly and continued to chat with him. While talking you two also started to drink the wine and eat the food that was prepared on a small table he brought out.
The amount of happiness you felt at this moment will never compare when you celebrated your first anniversary together. You continued laughing with Tendou when a latern caught your attention. You stopped and observed. Satori also kept quiet to observe you to see how you will react to his surprise.
It already got dark, luckily the candles and the street lamps are kept the place illuminated. That later changed when the laterns began to come out and light up the sky. Your eyes followed the laterns. At that moment it was so beautiful, you don't know if its a coincidence or part of your boyfriends plan.
You felt as if you were in the scene from Tangled. You were far too amazed to even notice your boyfriend. While you were excitedly admiring what he prepared, he took his time to prepare himself on the question he's been dying to tell you.
He knew it's about time for you to know when he was sleeping beside you one night.
He was just staring at the ceiling and he can't sleep while you were peacefully sleeping on top of him. He looked at you and realized after all you two have been through you still stuck with him. He remembered how you listened and comforted him from his insecurities. How you greeted him with a hug everytime he returns home from work. He even remembered how you kept practicing to cook for him. He remembered how he met you and how you got together with him. Everything, you're always there with him. He doesn't want to let you go and felt that he needs to confirm that you and him will be with each other forever.
He looked at the calendar besides him and saw your anniversary date. He thought about it and realized he had enough money to buy you the ring you wanted. Funny how it seems the universe is inclined with his intentions. He will have to start planning to propose to you but first he needs his sleep while keeping his arms around you.
'Y/n...'
'Hmmm?'
You responded but still enraptured by floating lanterns. He coughed and caught your attention.
'I know it was a big decision when I asked you back then to come with me here in Paris. I was prepared to hear your rejection back then but your excited yes shocked me a little.......'
He continued to say what he had always wanted to say to you. You started to tear up feeling overwhelmed by his confession. Somehow this scenario feels oddly similar to his first confession to you and hit you with nostalgia.
'Now I wanted to ask you to um...'
He felt flustered and his heart beating. He sighed before continuing and brought out a small box out of his pocket. He placed it on his palm and slowly opened it. Now is the time to ask the big question.
'Y/n L/n will you marry-'
'Yes!'
You happily interrupted him and threw your arms around him, burying your face to his neck to avoid seeing you in tears. Tendou is shocked and happy at the same time now that you said yes, you still have to wear the ring which you haven't done yet. He was about to take your hands and slid it on your finger when you hugged him.
He patted your back and smiled also starting to feel his tears build up when he realized you were crying.
'Hey- come on now I don't want to see you crying.'
He shushed you softly. You calmed down and backed off. You were still wiping your tears off you cheeks with your other hand when he slid the ring on your finger. You kept rubbing until you peeked your eyes open and saw the ring.
The tears began to build up again and you cried. Thinking what you did to deserve such man like him, he surprised you too much today you can't help but feel overflowing joy and love. You try to form words but the hiccups are preventing you and trying your best to wipe off the endless tears from your eyes.
Your attempt to dry them off fail until you felt Satori your now fiancé, use his handkerchief to help you. You finally looked at him through blurry eyes and saw how he was also crying while looking at you. Your hand reached out to his face to dry his tears.
He held your hand on his face and brought it near his lips to kiss your ring. His gesture made you cry harder.
'Damn it Satori! Stop making me cry you dummy.'
You finally spoke again. You made him laugh and stop his tears. Tendou tried to help you clear the tears from your cheeks again until its gone.
When you two both calmed down, he pressed his forehead against yours and connected his lips to yours while both of his hands are cupping each sides of your face. The kiss made you feel like fireworks soaring in the sky. He stopped and murmured against your lips.
'I love you so so much, thank you for being with me and loving me I promise to cherish you for eternity my paradise.'
'I love you so much too Satori...more than you would ever know.'
He let out laugh from your words. His laugh made you feel giddy. His yours and you are his officially.
'You know babe our setting really reminds me of that scene from Tangled.'
'Well...where did you think I got the inspiration from?'
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Notes:duck im tired im also on low battery bye now- I have to rush the ending because I was at like....5% 😭😭😭 anyway thank you for reading!! Feel free to like and reblog if you like it <33
content by @dreamingkita pls do not repost or plagiarize or else I will hunt you❗
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mcwritingblog · 3 years
Text
Immortal: Chapter 1
A Girl and Her Cat
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Pairing: Javier Pena x reader
Summary: A small town barista meets a handsome Javi.
Rating: G
Author’s note: Hey guys I'm sorry this doesn't have a lot of Javier in it, its really a big set up chapter for the story.
Word count: 2k
1975, a random fall Tuesday 
I don't know how it even happened, or how I met him. At the time I was living in a small town in Columbia run by Americans, keeping to myself, not drawing any attention to myself. He walked into my cafe and got a small black coffee. He stayed a while, reading his small novel.  
“Hi there, stranger, I got your coffee”, you said as you set down his drink. “Anything else?”
“No ma’am. Thank you”
“No problem”, you went to turn away but you had to know, “Um, hey?”
“Yes?”
“You've come in before.  What's your name?”
“Javier”
“Javier. I'm y/n. Let me know if you need anything. Maybe next time you could try a latte”, he lets out a snort. You go back to cleaning. It was extremely slow today so you got the go-ahead from your boss to close up early. 
“Miss?”
You turned around and saw Javier leaning up against his truck with a smile. 
You grasp your chest. “You scared me. I didn't notice you there.”
“Were you about to walk home?”
“Yes”
“Would you mind a ride?”
“My apartment isn't that far from here, but thank you I appreciate it.”
“Anytime.”
And like that, you were walking home, enjoying the weather. It was chilly and the leaves were falling beside you everywhere. You didn't mind the ten-minute walk to your apartment. You don't even get in the door before your cat starts meowing at you. 
“Avery, give me one moment. I'll feed you I promise.”. You love the hell out of the black cat but the girl is so needy.
You flick off your shoes by the front door, bending down to pet Avery. You walked past her to shake some food into her bowl. With how she rushes to it, you'd think she never got fed. Silly girl. You walk over to the couch and lay out, grabbing the blanket to get comfortable, a few moments pass and your cat hops up to snuggle up to you. You flip on your tv to find something to have in the background and settle on Hawaii Five O. There's something about cops that attracts you so much. You find yourself falling asleep, Avery radiating heat on your stomach. 
---
You were woken up the next morning by your alarm clock; another day, another dollar. You were on second shift today so you didn't have to be in until 11. You got up and made yourself toast and eggs, making sure fatso had her food too. 
“Pretty girl”, you say scratching her chin and heading towards the door, adding an “I’ll be back later. Byeee”
The walk to the shop today was extra nice. You can smell the aroma of a pumpkin pie as you pass the houses in your neighborhood and hear the sounds of children playing outside. The giggles brought life to the quiet afternoon. As you come closer to the city, the more you hear the sounds of cars passing and smells of bread being baked at the bakery down the street. The bakers wave at you as you pass the front window. You hold up two fingers, gesturing back. Two shops down is Mrs. Rivera trying to hang up plants, struggling to steady herself, AND the hanging ivy pot.
“Here let me help you.”, you say as you come behind her and catch the pot, succeeding in hanging it up on her awning.
“Thank you, sweetheart!”, she says as she wipes her hands on her apron.
“No problem. I have to get going but come by for a latte?”, you ask.
“Yeah. I’ll see you” 
And with that, you were back to it. Half a block down and you come to the shop's front door. It dings as you enter.
“You're late”, your boss, Maria, gets on to you.
“Mrs. Rivera needed help again.”
“Uh-huh. Get your butt back there”, she snorts. She's not mad. Thank god.
“Been busy today?”You ask about taking off your backpack and hanging it up. The shop was basically vacant. The only customer you could see was a college kid studying in the corner. You walk around to pick up mugs and empty plates from various tables.
“Not really. The usuals mostly… Oh! A guy was asking about you! He asked if I knew if you got home safe?”, she asked, confused.
“Ah yes, Javier. He offered to take me home last night.”, you say while walking the dirty dishes to the back.
“He’s cute. You should get in there, girl”, she yells to you. “In there?”, you come around the corner and scoff, “I'm not that interested in dating right now.”
“You should. You can't just spend all your free time with your cat and nonexistent characters in your books.”
“Can.” You point out “And will” 
“You're only 24, do you really wanna throw away that opportunity?”
You could only muster up an eye roll.
----
The rest of the shift went off without a problem. Maria went home shortly after her talk with you. The next few hours included a couple of customers but mostly some cleaning. Mrs. Rivera actually came to see you, even getting a hot chocolate for her grandson when she got her latte. You hold a conversation with her for a while, talking about her daughter’s new job at the school. Maria said something about that a couple of weeks ago. The rest of the regulars got their usual drinks, only sticking around long enough for their drinks. The clock soon hits 7 pm.
“Another tea?”, you ask the college student in the corner. He’s been here for your whole shift and has gotten two hot green teas with sugar.
“No ma’am. I'm about to leave but I appreciate it.”
‘Alright. Don't be a stranger”, you say, taking his cup and saucer to the back to clean it off. You place it in the strainer to left it air dry. As you are in the back, the customer packed up and left, leaving the shop empty.
You walk past every table, wiping it down and stacking chairs on top, then grabbing the broom. You quite enjoy the quiet chill night, humming a simple tune. The night offers an array of noises through the open door: Grasshoppers chirping and the soft whistle of the breeze. You finish sweeping and put up the broom. “The tips were pretty good today”, you think, pushing the money into your pocket, removing your apron, locking up, and heading home.
----
You had Thursday off and planned to spend it accordingly. You slept until you couldn't anymore, got up, and fed Avery, offering extra pets to the needy cat. She snuggles up to you on the couch, laying in the space in front of your stomach. Your newest interest? Murder mysteries. So you are relaxing on the couch reading Agatha Christie’s Death on the Nile. 
You get pretty far into the book before hearing a knock at your door. Weird. Then walk to unlatch the door, swinging it open.
“Uh... hello?”, you questioned the man in front of you. He’s standing there with his hand to the back of his neck, looking nervous
“Hi. Umm, I'm new to building. I live across the hall. I’m Anthony”, he reaches his hand out. You take his hand and shake it.
“Y/N”, you respond, smiling.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N”
“Would you like to come in for some coffee? I just put on a fresh pot”, you invite.
“Yeah, that sounds nice.”, his face sparks up in happiness. He takes your invitation and walks into your apartment, you close the door behind him.
‘Wow. Nice apartment. How long have you been living here?”
“Eh, a while”. Boy, you have NO idea.
He sits down at your dinner table and you bring over two coffee mugs.
“Cream? Sugar?”, you ask.
“Yes. Both please”, he responds and you hand him the containers of cream and sugar.
“Just moved here?”
“Yeah. From Arizona. The owner told me that you're one of the only Americans renting here. Thought I might come by and say hello.”
“Arizona, huh?”
“Yeah. I used to live in Georgia when I was a young girl but I’ve been around the world a lot. Been a while since I’ve been in the United States”, you drift off for a second but reel it in. “ Where in Arizona are you from?”
“Tucson. Wasn’t a bad place to live but I went to college for a major in the Spanish language. I wanted to visit places where I could hear the different dialects and see the different cultures. Thus, I am in Columbia.”
“Ah, you see I just wanted to see the world. I’ve been almost everywhere”
‘What was your favorite place to visit?”, he asks, fully focused on the conversation and not realizing Avery’s furry body rubbing against his shins. She meows. “Oh, well, hello there pretty girl. What’s your name?”. He reaches down to pet her back.
“That’s Avery. But back to your question, I was living in Greece for a while and I just adored the blue waters and sandy beaches.”
He takes a sip of his coffee and asks, “So what brought you here?”
“Need a change of scene. I had a friend who lived here but she passed away a couple of years ago”, you reply back nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders.
“Oh, im so sorry to hear that. Not too pry but we’re you close?”
“Yeah, We knew each other for a while.”
“How’d she die?”, he asks further
“Old age”, you let slip.
“Old age? he responds surprised.
“Uh... yeah. A family friend.”, you try to make up a better story to keep suspicion off of you.
That conversation kind of ended before it started, instead opting for a conversation about Anthony’s studies in places like Cuba and Spain. The talk circled around to different places you’ve visited, Rome being a topic that seemed to trail on and on. The sun outside seems to start to set.
“I’ve got to get going but it was nice to meet you, Y’N”
“You too, Anthony. Let me know if you need a cup of sugar or anything”, you say following him towards your door. He steps through and across the hallway to his front door. When he shuts his door, you follow suit. You turn around and you can feel Avery’s judging eyes on you.
“I know, I almost blew my cover”, you tell your feline friend. She meows.
-----
You weren't wrong when you told Anthony you’ve been living in Columbia for a while. The problem is his definition and your definition of “a while” were completely different. The truth is you lived in Columbia for 40 years and in this town for about 20. You didn’t age. The only person who could possibly know is Mrs. Rivera but she is very good at minding her own business. You were one of the only ones who came to her husband’s funeral a year ago. You’re practically family. The town’s oldest residents have passed and the owners of the apartments change every couple of years. The rent is paid in cash and the tenets come and go. Every couple of decades you move to another small town in another country. 
You lived a normal life but you didn’t know your parents. You lived in the orphanage until you were 18. It was then you took up a job, reading in your spare time, and traveling when you could. You didn’t even realize your immortality until you were 40 looking 20. And then 50 looking 20. You did try to date but soon came to realize that you’d outlive them, leaving a trail of broken hearts. You were pretty sure you were incapable of love. 80 years old and not prepared for what happened next.
Javier Pena was about to change your life.
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beneath the daylight moon;
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CHAPTER 1.
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“Why do we sometimes see the moon, even during daytime?”
Jaehyun doesn’t know, nor did he care to notice that such a thing existed; it was a mystery to him, but you were a bigger enigma.
for the man who deserves the sun, the moon, and the stars; happy birthday, jaehyun ♡
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“Why do we sometimes see the moon, even during daytime?”
It was a nice day out; sparse clouds rolled along the vast, celeste sky like cotton floating adrift in the cool breeze. As they pass by, the image of the moon appears stagnant behind them. It was bright enough to see the dark craters on its face, but not enough to outshine the warm sun on the opposite horizon.
Jaehyun returns his attention to you, unable to answer your question.
He walked up the two extra flights of stairs up to his apartment’s rooftop to scope out the area, eager to rent the space out for an area where he could garden. He hadn’t expected someone else to be here.
You sat on an old crate, leaning back on your arms, and staring up at the sky, wearing dark denim short overalls with dried splashes of paint over a white tee. You looked entranced by the scene above you, enough for Jaehyun to peek up as well and expect to see something like a plane passing by or a balloon a child had accidentally let go of.
Instead he saw a moon present during daytime. It wasn’t new to him, but it wasn’t necessarily something he paid attention to either. He was about to mind his own business until you asked him the question.
“Well?” You turned your head to him, maintaining your position.
“I—” Jaehyun stuttered, “I don’t know.”
You stared at him, stunned, before you pouted, bringing your attention back to the moon above you. “That’s no fun.”
He frowns, is it that fascinating? It’s barely even noticeable; just a transparent circle in the blue sky. “It’s just a moon. It’s there every night.”
You gasped at this, sitting up straight and putting a scandalized hand over your chest. He flinches in his place, surprised at your reaction. 
“Yes, we see the moon every night, but it’s daytime—” You gestured to it, “It’s a daytime moon!”
Jaehyun looked back up, warily watching the waning moon for a moment, before returning his attention to you. You were pointedly staring at him, waiting for a response. When he’s confused once more on what to say, you let out a dejected sigh. 
“No one understands.” You mumbled under your breath, standing up and dusting your bottom off. With one last look at the moon, you spun to face him, “You’re new here, aren’t you? I’ve never seen you before. What brings you up to the rooftop? No one ever goes here.”
“Oh, yeah, I moved in a few days ago. I was just checking it out to see if it’s good enough to be a garden space.”
“Garden space? Oh no…” You spun around, “That means this place will be a restricted area.”
“Not at all!” He said, “You’re free to keep coming here. I’m willing to share any of the fruits of my labor as long as it’s not abused. I’ll start with herbs, though. Actual fruits might take a while.”
You giggled, appreciating the little dimples on his cheeks as he joked. “Do you plant flowers?”
“I don’t.” Jaehyun replied with a little shake of his head, but when he sees your lips fall to a frown, he immediately takes it back, “But I’ve always wanted to. I don’t know what I should try first. Would you like to recommend some I should try?”
He wasn’t eager to take care of flowering plants. He picked up gardening so he could have fresh herbs and produce for cooking. Nevertheless, seeing your eyes brighten up after he asked you made him feel happy.
“Personally, I love Four O’clocks.” You told him, bashfully shrugging your shoulders, “I don’t know if they’re easy to grow though.”
“Four O’clocks?”
You nodded your head, “They bloom from four to eight in the evening. If they’re too difficult to grow, I heard sweet peas are easy to care for.”
“Sweet peas.” Jaehyun repeats, “Alright. I’ll keep those in mind.”
A blanket of silence fell between you with only the whispers of the wind and sounds of cars driving down the streets filled the air. He avoided your gaze, suddenly overcome with shyness, ears blushing with his cheeks.
You smiled to yourself, “Well, I should get going now.”
As you started to walk towards the only exit, he startled you by asking for your name.
“I’m Jaehyun.” He held out his hand to you.
Your eyes warily ogled his hand, pressing your lips together. Reluctantly, you stuck your hand out and softly gasped as he curled his fingers around your palm and shook it. “I’m… [Y/N].”
He smiled, cocking his head to the side as you both retracted your hands from one another. “Well, it’s nice meeting you, [Y/N]. Give me a couple of weeks and I’ll have this shabby rooftop brimming green. Maybe get fake grass for you to lie on to see your daylight moon better.”
He looked up above, catching sight of the faded moon peeking behind another cloud as it rolled by.
“I’d like that.” You sighed, following his gaze. “Well, I’ll have to go now. It was nice meeting you again.”
“Likewise.” Jaehyun raised his hand to wave you off, but you were briskly walking out of there before he could even do so. You were weird — not in a bad way. You were endearingly eccentric. He hummed to himself, glancing back up at the sky, pondering on the question you had asked him beforehand.
“Why do we see the moon during daytime?”
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Jaehyun finally rented out the rooftop and two days after meeting you, had begun cleaning up the area. A part of him hoped to see you that day, he wished he had asked what your apartment number was, but then he remembered how hesitant you were to even shake his hand. That night he met you, he told his grandmother about you and the conversation you had about the moon. He thought his grandma would agree with you being a little odd, but instead he got scolded for his answer.
Now that he had time to think and look up the scientific reason behind daytime moons, he has an answer for you that he hoped you would like. 
After a few hours of tossing trash and debris into boxes for easy disposal, he took his work gloves off and sat down on the crate you used before. He wiped the sweat of his forehead with his forearm, panting loudly as he caught his breath. The rooftop was the perfect level to be cold when the wind blew, but still be warmed by the sun’s rays.
He peered up towards the sky, looking for the daytime moon. From what he understood from his google searches, today would be the last day to see it properly until the full moon passes. As he waited for a large cloud to pass, he felt like someone was watching and turned his head to the entrance.
You flinched when he turned to you, clutching the pale blue handkerchief to your chest. “Hi.”
“Hey.” Jaehyun swung his legs over the crate’s corners to face you properly, “I thought it would be you.”
“How would you know it’s me? There’s 15 other tenants here.”
He shrugged his shoulders, “I had a feeling.”
“Like, you sensed me? Like a… ghost?”
Jaehyun chuckled, shaking his head, “I wouldn’t go that far. You have a peculiar aura to you.”
“I get that a lot.” You curtly laughed.
He patted the empty space beside him after scooting over the edge and moving his water bottle to the floor. You took up his offer and sat beside him, folding your hands on your lap.
“I wish I could help you, but I only came out here for a breath of fresh air.” To demonstrate it, you inhaled deeply, slowly releasing it through your mouth. “It gets suffocating in my room.”
Jaehyun wanted to ask why, but you quickly changed the subject.
“Is gardening your hobby or is it related to your job?”
“Both — er, well, more of the first one. I want to start a restaurant; a classic Korean restaurant using my grandmother’s recipes. But being in a foreign country, the ingredients to make the recipes truly authentic aren’t readily available. And if they were, they’d be so expensive.”
You watched him swipe the bottle from the floor and take a lengthy gulp of it, nearly downing half of it. His Adam’s apple bobbed with every gulp, protruding out of his thick, creamy neck. You snapped yourself out of it, handing your handkerchief to him when he proceeded to wipe his brow with his forearm.
He quietly thanked you, dabbing the cloth over his mouth before dragging it over his forehead.
“What brings you to this small city anyways? I’d do anything to get away from here.”
“Came from Korea when I was just 5 years old, moved every few years because of my dad’s job, and eventually settled here with my grandma to take care of her.” Jaehyun turned his attention to the cityscape, “It’s nice and quiet, but not too rural.”
“Do you ever wish to go back to Korea?”
He didn't reply immediately as he continued to stare off into the distance. There was a large lake in the heart of the city; people fished there no matter what the season, they swam during spring and summer, and went ice skating during winter.
“I think if I ever went back, I’d feel like a fish out of water, you know?” He looked down to the water bottle in his hands, “It doesn’t matter if I have relatives I’m close to there or I’m fluent in speaking the language, I’ll still feel like a foreigner.”
You offered him a smile, “Well, that’s a given. Especially if you have that kind of mindset. You said you moved every few years, but you eventually settled in long enough before the next city, right? You’ll be able to call your ancestor’s land home eventually. I mean, you live in one of the apartments that predominantly houses Koreans.”
Jaehyun glanced at you, nodding afterwards, “I guess you’re right. But I don’t think I want to go back to Korea just yet anyways.”
“That’s understandable. You haven’t even started your garden yet.” You giggled, gesturing to the empty space in front of you. “I should be heading back anyways. It was nice talking to you.”
“It was. Next time, we’ll talk about you, alright?” He laughed, “Not fair that only I get to talk about myself.”
Once again, you hesitated, biting down on your bottom lip, “Alright. Next time then.”
He watched you slip through the open door, careful not to trip the heavy rock that kept it open. Dejectedly, he sighed at the mess he had yet to clean up. A part of him wanted you to stay longer, not even to help, but just accompany him. When he stood up, the handkerchief you lent him fell to the ground and he grabbed it, running after you.
“Hey, [Y/N], wait!” He yelled down the stairwell. You should have probably gone down just one flight of stairs since you left, but his voice just echoed back at him. Were you that in a hurry to leave? Confused, he resolved to wash your napkin first before giving it back to you.
Going back outside, he put his fists on his hips and studied the rest of the area he had to clean up. He could finish this in two — three days, tops. But the seeds, soil, and pots are coming tomorrow and he doesn’t want to bother his grandma by dumping all those in their tiny apartment. Like the distant sound of a telephone ringing, he got an idea and pulled his phone out of his pocket.
After half an hour and phone call later, Jaehyun’s close friend, Mark, comes to his rescue — although unwillingly.
“I can’t believe I let you convince me to help you out,” He grumbled, hoisting a trash bag full of dust over his shoulder, “For free.”
“I promised you naengmyeon, didn’t I? Besides, don’t act like it’s all heavy lifting.” Jaehyun swept the ground with a broom.
He overheard Mark grumbling under his breath and chose to ignore it. He met the young man in college through his best friend, Johnny, who is Mark’s older stepbrother, and it was from them that he heard about this city. Mark’s only here for the summer break before finishing his senior year in college in the bigger state and Jaehyun’s going to make sure he utilizes him well.
“Yo! It stinks here!” Mark exclaimed, traversing to the other side of the rooftop he hadn’t even gone to yet, “Ew! Man, there’s a dead rat! And a bird!”
Jaehyun just laughed, “Just pack them up with the rest of the trash!”
“I’m not touching those!”
“Mark, you have gloves on, plus you can just push them into the bag.”
The younger man just grumbled again, “Those better be the best damn naengmyeon I’ll ever have!”
“Subak naengmyeon!” Jaehyun retorted, bursting out laughing when he caught the excited, surprised look on Mark’s face before he turned around and picked up the carcasses right away after placing a secondary barrier in the form of an extra trash bag over his gloves.
The next hour or so goes without a hitch and they finally cleared the entire rooftop before the 2 hour mark. They tied the trash bags together to make it easier for them to haul down to the floor below to toss it in the trash chute. 
“Was that so hard?” Jaehyun chuckled, breathlessly, while he pulled out your handkerchief from his back pocket and started to wipe the sweat build up all over his face. “Let’s drop this in the chute and I can make those cold noodles.”
“Yes!” Mark cheered, eagerly grabbing two bags and heading to the door.
After that was settled, they washed up in Jaehyun’s apartment and Mark played games on his phone while Jaehyun got to cooking. He would have asked him to help out, but based on experience, the younger man is better off not doing anything inside the kitchen aside from eating.
Halfway through preparing the meal, Jaehyun’s grandma came out of her room and Mark enthusiastically greeted her.
“Oh, Little Markie.” She fondly cooed, “I didn’t know you were here.”
“I helped Jaehyun clean up the rooftop and he’s repaying me through cold noodles.”
“It’ll be ready in a while!” Jaehyun chimed, “This is exactly for 3 people.”
“Go on ahead without me, I’m going to head down to do laundry.” Jaehyun’s grandma gestures to the small basket of clothes by the door.
“Wait, grandma, can you wash this for me?” He fished out your handkerchief out of his pocket and jogged over to her, “Someone lent it to me earlier and I forgot to give it back, so I wanted to wash it before I run into her again.”
She took the cloth from him and tossed it into the basket, “Alright. I’ll be back later. You two enjoy now.”
“See you, Mrs. Choi!” Mark waved his hand and Jaehyun bit his tongue to stop from laughing; his friend seemingly reverts back into a child every time he interacts with his grandma, but then again, his grandma is known to be endearing and fond towards all his friends.
When his grandma took her leave, Mark eyed him suspiciously, a sly smirk on his face.
“What?”
The younger of the two narrowed his eyes, “You were with a girl before I came over?”
Jaehyun knew where this was going. He shrugged his shoulders, “Yeah. Met her the other day when I checked the rooftop. She’s… eccentric.”
“So she’s weird?”
He instinctively scowled at him, “In a good way. I caught her staring up at the moon.”
“Bro, that’s creepy, you met her at night on the roof? She could have been a ghost.”
With every fiber of his being, Jaehyun fought the urge to roll his eyes, “I don’t believe in ghosts, and no, I was checking out the roof remember? Why would I do that at night? I met her during daytime.”
Mark pursed his lips, “But the moon is also out?”
“It happens. Apparently, it’s a pretty common phenomenon for the moon to appear even if the sun is out.” He lifted a spoon to his lips to taste the sauce and nodded his head in approval, “Hey, grab me two bowls?”
“Is she hot?” Mark jumped up to his feet and went straight for the cupboard to grab two bowls as requested. He set it by the noodles and began to fill both up.
“She’s pretty.” Jaehyun paused; that seemed like an understatement if he were to be honest, but he doesn’t want to give his friend any ideas. “If you keep helping me up on the rooftop, you could meet her.”
“Ayy,” He held his hands up and stepped away from the bowls while Jaehyun poured the soup on them, “You’re just tryna get me to do free labor for you.”
He laughed, nodding his head because he got caught. After pouring the soup into both bowls, Jaehyun arranges the toppings on each of them, “But is it really free labor if you get to eat good food afterwards?”
Mark threw his head back and groaned, “Stop baiting me with food! I’ll get fat before grad pics are taken.”
“You can’t get fat on Korean food. Not with the recipes I make. Besides, once I get the garden thriving, it’ll be a lot healthier.” Jaehyun huffed, “Also, I only need help setting up; make plant boxes, arrange some pots. I’m not asking you to plant, water, or harvest — although I won’t decline if you want to.”
“Fine. Just because you make Michelin star quality food—”
“— have you ever even eaten at a Michelin star restaurant?”
Mark tsk’d at him, “I also wanna meet this girl. You haven’t dated anyone ever since—”
“I’m not looking to date anyone.” He cut him off, handing him chopsticks. “And I still don’t plan to.”
They took their bowls to the small round dining table and sat down. Mark thanked him for the meal and they started to eat. The loud slurp and satisfied moan from Mark brought a smile to Jaehyun’s face. Those kinds of reactions are what drives him to cook even more and he hopes he’ll be hearing them reverbing off the walls of his very own bistro.
As Mark took a bite out of the watermelon Jaehyun used to garnish, he asked, “I can’t wait for you to start your own resto, man. I’ll be there every week — dine in, take out — I’ll have it delivered, too. I’d take my girlfriend to your restaurant for dates.”
This made Jaehyun burst out laughing, “You need a girlfriend to do that, Mark.”
“Shut up! I’m tryna hype you up!” He snarled, “It’s not like you’re opening your restaurant tomorrow, are you?!”
“Point taken.” He shrugged, picking up a hefty amount of noodles with his chopsticks and shoving it into his mouth.
It’s the perfect meal after working hard under the sun; cold and refreshing. He didn’t like eating them at first, finding it weird to eat something he’s accustomed to eating hot now ice cold. Eventually, the dish grew on him, especially on summer days he spent with his grandparents.
For the rest of the meal, they filled the silence with slurping and talked about his plans for the restaurant. Somehow, he ended up giving Mark a part time job in the restaurant that’s yet to be established as either a busboy or a waiter in case he doesn’t find a job yet.
“So worth it.” Mark sighed after he brought the bowl to his lips and threw back his head to finish the soup. “Damn, fine, I will work to eat this kind of food everyday. I should have taken a pic and sent it to Johnny! He’d be so jealous.”
“You can take a picture of my grandma’s bowl if you’re sticking around long enough for her to come back.” Jaehyun suggested, gesturing him to hand his empty bowl over so he could put them away.
“Thanks for the meal.” Mark clapped after pushing his bowl towards him. “Bro, I’m so excited for you! Your resto is gonna pop off, no doubt. And because of you, Johnny’s gonna come back home to handle the business shit.”
Johnny promised to save up to help him with the lease and other financials so he’d been working two jobs in a completely different state to match up the savings Jaehyun had from all the jobs he had previously worked. Jaehyun could easily pay off most of the things needed, but Johnny reiterated that this is a joint business and he won’t let him do so. Even though they both graduated with a degree in business management, Johnny said he’ll take care of all the paperwork while Jaehyun can cook his heart out.
Jaehyun will always be grateful he ran into Johnny during the first class of their freshman year and clicked with him because they shared the same ethnicity, more so that he supports him with everything he does. Admittedly, he’s sad that his best friend had to work so far away from them, but he’ll be home soon and help achieve his dream, plus he had Mark as the best hype man. With no pun intended, he can taste the future.
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It’s been nearly a week and Jaehyun hasn’t seen you. He’s worried for some reason; did something happen? Are you alright? He always brought your handkerchief with him so he could return it and some food he made for you to try, but you never showed up. Even Mark doubted your existence when he kept coming over to help build the plant boxes that were finally delivered.
They were just finishing up, deciding where to place the plant boxes with trellises — whether up against the parapet or with the rest of the plant boxes in the middle — when he had the urge to look back at the door and found you watching them through the door.
“[Y/N]!” He exclaimed, face breaking out into a tired smile, only for it to fall when you ran away just before Mark turned around. “Hey, wait!”
Jaehyun tried to run after you, taking large strides, but like last time, when he leaned over the banister to find you, you were gone. He called out to you, but all he saw peeking up the stairs was a scruffy-looking man from four floors down. Jaehyun apologized and the man retreated. He returned to Mark, who decided to move one of the ceramic pots to the other side of where they were originally placed.
“Did you catch her?” He asked, dusting his hands off.
“No. I wonder why she ran off like that. I didn’t even catch her running down the stairs… maybe she lives just on the floor below.” Jaehyun frowned, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He was sure it was you; you were wearing the same denim overalls.
Mark’s phone rang and he cursed at seeing the notification, “Gotta go. I forgot I had to pick up groceries for my mom.”
“Thanks for today. Tell her I said hi.” He waved as he watched the younger man run to the door as if his life depended on it.
Alone, Jaehyun turned back to check the work they’ve done today. Aside from the trellis, all the plant boxes had been laid with all the proper layers for drainage and just needed to be sowed. He wanted to plant everything all at the same time, but he could plant the Four o’Clock seeds you requested. He had already soaked the seeds overnight and even sanded it according to the google searches he made to plant and care for them. He walked over to the collapsible table he set up and took the flower seeds off the paper towel he left them on.
“You’ve started planting?”
Jaehyun jumped away from you, flinching at your sudden appearance.
“Oops,” You giggled, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You have light footsteps, huh? I’m only planting the Four o’Clocks today.” He showed you the seeds in his palm, “Why did you run off a while ago?”
You blinked at him, “Uhm, well, I thought I left the iron plugged in a-and I didn’t want to bother you and your friend.”
“We were done anyways and you wouldn’t be a bother if you decided to come up here. He wanted to meet you, you know.”
“Oh… I’m… just extremely shy. You just caught me off guard the day we met.” You squat beside him as he sowed the seeds into one of the little ceramic pots, “I would have run off if I had the chance.”
Jaehyun chuckled, “Well, I’m glad you didn’t.”
This made you pause, repeatedly blinking at his hands as they gently folded the soil over the seeds. The other day, you would never admit to it, but you were secretly watching him and his friend — Mark, as you heard him call the other — and you were astonished at how strong Jaehyun was. Compared to his friend, he pulled and carried materials on his shoulders with ease. It was a stark contrast to how he planted the seeds just now.
“I believe I owe you a short narrative of my life.” You cleared your throat, looking for somewhere to sit on, and walked over to two collapsible chairs that matched the table. You sat on one while you waited for Jaehyun to dust his hands clean.
Once he sat down, you shrugged, “What do you want to know?”
“Anything you’re comfortable with sharing.” He mirrored your action, “I would have brought extra snacks if I had known I’d be running into you again. Oh, shit — I forgot your handkerchief back in my room.”
“It’s fine.” You shook your head, “I’m in no rush to get it back.”
You let yourself get distracted by a cat’s loud meowing somewhere below, thinking of something to share to him.
“Well,” You started off, “I was supposed to start my Master’s degree for education 3 months ago, but I chickened out the last minute. I just felt like… it’s not something I want to do at the moment.”
“So what have you been doing? Painting?” Jaehyun gestured to the paint marks on your clothing, “Your clothes always have paint on them.”
You stuttered, “Oh, uhm, yeah — just getting the creative juice flowing. Never liked anything to keep it, though. I think I’m more into photography.”
“Like portraits? Landscapes?”
“Anything.” You paused, “Haven’t really found a niche yet. That’s why I’ve been painting.”
He nodded, understanding your situation. “Hey, there’s this mural on the other side of that wall—”
“Yeah, I know. It’s such an eyesore.”
Jaehyun blinked at you, “Oh, I don’t think so. It’s just unfinished. Maybe the person who started it moved out or maybe they just lost motivation. But I think it still looks great; just unfinished.”
Unfinished, you repeated in your thoughts. It’s such a sad word for you; incomplete, undone.
“You could paint over the mural if you think it could be better.”
The mural was yours to begin with. You started it half a year ago when you went up here to escape reality. It was just a mess of angry, distressed brush strokes of a multitude of colors overlapping one another; what made it look incomplete in the first place? You just kept adding layer after layer, never satisfied with how it looked.
“Maybe.” You croaked out, realizing you hadn’t responded to him. “I’d need to buy all the paint though, so I can’t work on it immediately.”
“No rush. You can’t force art.” He said in a comforting manner. “I didn’t learn to cook right away. My grandma has unlimited patience with me every time I burnt something.”
“I wish my older sister had the same patience as your grandma.” You fiddled with your thumbs, “I live with her — uh, well, technically, she lives with me… with her boyfriend and baby.”
Jaehyun gave you an awkward smile, “They live with you?”
You shut your eyes, hanging your head low, “I love my sister and I love little nephew, too. But her boyfriend is a piece of shit. Absolutely useless. Doesn’t even consider moving since he considers me free housing even though he can afford it. He doesn’t even help pay rent!”
“So it’s that kind of situation, huh? Your sister must love him for staying with him.”
You averted your attention elsewhere, biting down on your lip with guilt. She’s still with him because of you, she wants to leave him but she can’t because of you. It’s not your place to tell Jaehyun about the real cruelty your sister’s boyfriend does to her, not to mention he’s a shitty father to your nephew, but you don’t want to drag him into this mess.
“I wish she’d wake up.” You grumbled. You wished you would wake up, too.
“If there’s anyway for me to help, just tell me.” Jaehyun put his hand over yours, the sensation of his skin against yours still confounding you.
You met his gaze, reading the sincerity in the dark chocolate pools of his eyes. You barely know him, but why does it feel like you’ve known him all your life? “Thank you.” You whispered and you watched him retrieve his hand.
“Whatever happens, you can also escape to my place. My grandma loves to meet new people. I’m sure she’ll love you. I can introduce you to Korean food, too. Are you okay with spices?”
“It really depends.” You bashfully admitted, hoping it doesn’t sound like you were turning his offer down.
“Well, if you come over, we’ll see it ourselves.” He beamed at you, dimples flashing in full display. “I live in room 307.”
This caught you off guard. You lived on the same floor as him. Why haven’t you noticed?
When you didn’t say anything after him, even though he had hoped you would reply with your room number, Jaehyun smacked his thighs. He doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable for disclosing your room number to him. “I have to start cooking dinner. Are you going to stay longer here?”
“Uh—” You followed his movement as he stood up, “Y-yeah, I will.”
“See you later. Don’t stay for too long. It gets cold up here.”
“I’ll be fine.” You smiled, waving at him as he slowly inched towards the door.
After he left, you stared at the door a little longer before looking down at your hands. You could stay for as long as you want because the cold doesn’t bother you. You can’t feel the cold or the heat or anything… aside from him.
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It was a little alarming to Jaehyun that you hadn’t been up on the roof for two weeks. Yes, he counted the days. Did something happen with your sister and her boyfriend? Did you two finally escape him? Did he do something bad? Are you safe? So many questions plagued his mind but he doesn’t know what to do to get answers to them. Mark is no help because he has to see you with his own eyes to even believe you were real.
After your last talk, Jaehyun had made it a point to bring your handkerchief with him so he can finally return it to you. He even washed it again despite not using it just in case the sweat from working under the sun seeped through his pants.
It was a shame though because he’s proud of the progress of his little rooftop garden. All the plant boxes have been sowed with their respective seeds, he purchased a picnic set so he could have meals up here with friends and family, and most importantly, the 4 o’clocks have started to germinate along with the sweet peas that he decided to plant as well. His grandma liked to take afternoon tea up here as well, hoping to meet you after he had spoken often about you, but fortunately doesn’t doubt your existence just because of your absence like Mark.
Jaehyun didn’t have much work to do these days aside from watering and making sure there were no pests since the materials he needed for the pergola hadn't arrived yet. It was a good thing the past days were cloudy enough for his grandma to rely on just sunscreen and not tire herself from holding an umbrella.
Another day is about to end, the sun setting across the horizon. Even Jaehyun hadn’t seen the daytime moon the past week — or maybe he just didn’t bother to check during the prime hour when it’s clearly visible. Heaving a dejected sigh, he goes back to his apartment. He should have really asked for your number — to, you know, check up on you.
Arriving on his floor, he took his time to walk up to his door, briefly glancing when he heard a door open. He didn’t pay much attention to it at first, but did a double take when he saw you.
“[Y/N]?” He exclaims, a little too excitedly, and took three long strides towards the woman he thought was you.
She turned to face him, alarmed and confused.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were someone I knew.” Jaehyun stepped back, sheepishly rubbing his neck. He bows his head out of habit, “Sorry again—”
When he looked back up at the woman, he faltered. She really did look like you.
“Wait, I’m sorry, but are you…” He licked his lips, “[Y/N]’s sister?”
The woman watched him apprehensively as she closed the door but kept her hand on the knob, “I am. And you are?”
“I’m Jaehyun. I moved here just a month ago. I was wondering where [Y/N] is. I haven’t seen her in awhile. Is she okay?”
She looked at him like he had grown two heads. “I don’t understand.”
“Uhm, well, we met up on the rooftop and she’d drop by every now and then. It’s been awhile since she went back up so I got a little worried—”
“Look, boy,” Your sister dismissed, “You’re not making sense to me and I’m busy. You’re wasting my time.”
Jaehyun bit his tongue; did something happen between the two of you? “Okay, I’m sorry again. But could you return this for me? She lent it to me a few weeks ago and I keep forgetting to return it.”
He brought out your blue handkerchief from his back pocket and your sister’s eyes grew wide with alarm. She snatched it from him, making him flinch, and inspected it, revealing the little embroidery of your initials on the corner he had never seen before.
“Where did you get this?!” She hissed, vigorously shaking the fabric in her fist. “I kept this in her drawer!”
“I-I told you! She lent it to me a few weeks ago and—”
“That’s impossible! She couldn’t have!” Your sister’s eyes started to well up, “I don’t understand— she couldn’t have— but how?”
Jaehyun ogled her warily as she examined the handkerchief once more, “I… I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m telling you the truth. She lent it to me herself.”
He described you to her to prove himself; from your hair, to your clothes, to even the reason why you were up on the roof the first time he met you, and that’s what caught your sister’s attention.
“Daytime moon?” She quietly repeated, cutting him off. “Di-did you say she was up on the roof, looking at the daytime moon?”
He nodded, gasping a little when she faltered back and lost her balance, making him reach out to help her stand up properly.
“That can’t be… my sister… [Y/N]... she’s… it’s been three months...”
“What?” Panic gripped at his chest. Three months? He hasn’t even moved in three months ago. “What happened with [Y/N]?”
Your sister looked up at him, visibly perplexed at the situation. Her pupils shook as she stared right at him.
“My sister has been in a coma for three months.”
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Chapter 2 by @smileyjaeminies
​cc: @moonttaeil​ @wonjaekook​ @lovestrucked-again​
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2manyfandoms2count · 3 years
Text
Alix's rom-com night
The June event of the @mlwritersguild was to create bonus content for one of our fics - I decided to seize the opportunity to finally sit down and write one of the bonus scenes of You can count on me (I will be there for you), and to do draw a bit of fanart to go with it (4 panels, including a Marichat piece)! Let me tell you that the Burrow is a pain to draw, but I'm actually quite proud of the result :)
About YCCOM: It's an aged-up, one-sided reveal with "fake" wedding fic, based on Sallteas' art. The fic is 9 chapters and 20k words long. It was written before season 4, so it's no longer canon compliant in terms of who knows who's identities at the beginning.
Synopsis: Ladybug's identity is compromised, and somebody is after her. After a lot of pondering, she and Chat Noir come to the conclusion that her best bet is for her to marry Adrien Agreste. It breaks her heart that she is not marrying Chat Noir, but she knows that she's buying them time to figure out who is behind the anonymous letters she's been receiving, and hopefully to find Hawkmoth. Whatever the situation might be, her wedding day should provide a moment of respite. And maybe it would have, had Chat Noir refrained from coming to visit her just before the ceremony...
About Alix's rom-com night: it's a one shot that's chronologically set before the main fic, but I recommend reading it after reading the latter since it contains spoilers for it. It follows Alix (obviously), and includes Ladybug revealing her identity to Chat Noir and the set up of their "fake wedding" plan.
Hope you enjoy!
---
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Alix opened her door and dropped her keys in the bowl as she kicked off her shoes with a satisfied sigh. Home, sweet home.
Her studio apartment wasn’t very big, but then again, she didn’t need a huge surface when she had a whole extension waiting for her just a transformation phrase away. She’d mentally thanked Marinette more than once for choosing her to wield the Rabbit Miraculous, rather than somebody else, just for the savings she made in rent.
She whistled happily as she made her way to her kitchen area, grabbing a bag of popcorn out of a cupboard and shoving it in her microwave.
She deserved the treat. She’d been running around all week, trying to slide letters to her targets without being spotted, spending hours on end to find the perfect stationary, and then staying up at night to get the wording exactly right, a delicate mix of subtlety and threat to elicit some sort of response from them. It had taken a lot of trial and error, especially for Ladybug. Her friend had always been surprisingly oblivious on many fronts, and it seemed that her honeymoon phase with Chat Noir reinforced her optimistic ability to brush ominous details aside. It had taken three letters for her to start freaking out and to promise Tikki she would talk to her partner about them, whereas Hawkmoth had started the analysis phase upon the first one he’d received.
Alix had only been mildly surprised by the identity of their nemesis when she’d decided it was high time she knew who they were facing; it was all too fitting that the man who leached off Paris’ most intense negative emotions should be the most embittered person she knew, and the one who, in retrospect, had been the cause of many an Akuma (she still shuddered at the what-could-have-been of Chat Noir’s akumatisation).
The microwave dinged, bringing her thoughts back to her timeline. She took the bowl out and called for her Kwami.
“Fluff, clockwise! Burrow!”
A white portal appeared in the middle of her living space and she walked through it, emerging in the ovoid room covered in screens. She made her way to the furthest point, hung her umbrella up on the coathanger she kept in there, and grabbed a folding chair. It was a director’s seat which supposedly had belonged to a rising name in the cinema world before their career had been shot down for obscure reasons, but she didn’t really care about its story; she’d bought it for a very low price at a yard sale, and that was all that mattered to her.
“Right, where are you…” She muttered, scrutinising her surroundings, until she found the screen she was looking for.
She unfolded the chair, zoomed in on the empty (for now) rooftop, propped down in her seat and threw a fistful of popcorn into her mouth, waiting for the show to start.
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Unsurprisingly, Ladybug was the first to arrive on the scene. She paced around, mumbling to herself as she wrung her hands together. Alix felt a pang of guilt as she watched her rehearse how she would break the news to her partner, but reassured herself that the ordeal would soon be over.
Finally, Chat Noir landed beside Ladybug, and she flung herself at him, holding him so tight he had to untangle himself from her arms to breathe.
“Well, well, well, my Lady, I know I couldn’t make it to patrol last night, but I didn’t think you’d miss me this much,” he chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Alix rolled her eyes at just how lovestruck he looked as he did so. How could her friends be so sappy, and yet still be at square one in terms of knowing who the other was?
Some might have said that it was romantic, that they loved each other regardless of who they were; but those people did not have to deal with the constant end of the world threat.
“What was so important that you couldn’t just text me?”
Ladybug took a deep breath. Her fingers slid along his arms as she relaxed her embrace, taking his hands in hers at the end of the line. “Somebody knows my identity,” she said quietly, looking down. “And I don’t know who they are.”
“What?!” Chat’s voice detonated in the previously peaceful quiet of the evening, making a couple of pigeons take off in a loud flutter of wings.
“I’m so sorry, I must have been careless when I got home one night, they must have seen me, I bet it was last week when I was tired and I-”
“My Lady, no offence, but I don’t care about the when and why, just... are you okay?” He tilted her chin up, gently turning her head to each side, checking for any signs of injury.
She placed her hand on his, making him stop, and gave him a soft, sad smile. “Yes, Chaton. Just a little rattled; you know you were the first person I wanted to reveal my identity to. Not including Bunnyx, although technically I never told her who I am.”
“And technically, I’m still the only person who knows who you are,” Bunnyx smugly commented between two handfuls of popcorn. “Now come on, I want to see how you react when you reveal your identities to each other.”
“How do you know somebody knows, though? And do you have any idea what their intentions are?”
Ladybug’s expression darkened. “I received some letters. They’re not signed, but they’ve got enough butterflies on them to make me think that even if they’re not from the biggest pest in Paris, then they’re probably from somebody who’s up to no good.”
Chat Noir swore under his breath, then regained his countenance. “So, what do we do now? Do you think we can hunt down the bugger?”
“We definitely will, but…” Ladybug bit her lip, and Alix leaned forward in her seat. This had to be it. “Chaton, I think the time has come for me to tell you who I am.”
“YES! Finally!” Alix cheered, almost spilling her popcorn bowl.
“Are you sure, my Lady?” Alix didn’t have to be on site to tell that Chat Noir’s heart was beating faster than usual; the corners of his mouth twitched as he repressed a smile, as though his excitement could make her change her mind.
“Yes.” She nodded. “I really want you to know.” In case something happens to me, Alix was pretty sure her friend had left unsaid.
“Okay, okay.” Chat Noir took a deep breath, buzzing with anticipation, so much so that he apparently missed the whole subtext of her previous words. “Do you want to do this now? And how do you want to do it? Do you want me to close my eyes? Are you going to write it on a piece of paper for me to read? Are you going to detransform? Should-”
“I was thinking the latter, and yes, now,” Ladybug said timidly. “Up to you if you want to look or not.”
“For some reason, I feel like I shouldn’t.” He took her hands in his and kissed her knuckles without breaking their eye contact, then took another deep breath and closed his eyes, a blissful smile on his lips. “Ready when you are, my Lady.”
“Ok, here goes.” She let out a shaky breath and called off her transformation. The soft pink glow engulfed her and receded, her suit melting away to reveal her true appearance.
“Wow, Marinette, you actually broke out your favourite dress for this? Glad to see all of this isn’t affecting your ability to think straight.” Alix smirked. If her friend had gone home after a long, stressful work day, and found it in her to change and doll herself up to make a good impression on Chat Noir, things couldn’t be that bad. She had to agree that her dress, simple, white, with little red hearts embroidered on it, was perfect for the occasion, though.
“You can open your eyes now, Chaton.” Marinette gave his hands a squeeze.
Chat Noir obliged, blinking slowly as he took in her appearance, her identity, her. Marinette squirmed under his gaze, his expression not giving away any of his thoughts.
“H-Hi,” she stammered when she couldn’t take it anymore. “I, erm, I guess I should introduce myself? We’ve run into each other before, when we were younger, and even if you actually had lunch with my family that one time, I guess it’s been a while… My name is-”
“Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Chat’s smile finally broke free, spread from ear to ear, almost literally illuminating his face. Alix wondered if anything could ever wipe it off. Love and admiration twinkled in his eyes as he picked her up and started spinning her. Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling giddily, before Chat Noir closed the gap between their lips.
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Bunnyx modestly looked away, allowing them to have their moment. Her eyes landed on a rerun of Plagg putting an end to the dinosaurs’ reign.
“I should have known that it was you, Princess.” Chat panted slightly as he carefully set Marinette back on the roof. “Everything makes so much more sense now, I-”
“Before you finish that thought, I can’t know your identity.” She placed her index finger on his lips. “Yet, of course.”
“What?” Chat froze, and so did Bunnyx, her hand pausing midway between the popcorn bowl and her mouth. “But why?”
“I don’t know what might happen to me, but I don’t want to put you in any danger.” Marinette cupped his cheek. “And I don’t want to lose my memories of you. Of us.”
“Oh for Kwami’s sake.” Alix rolled her eyes. “Boo!” She threw a fistful of popcorn at the screen as her friend continued to list all the reasons Chat couldn’t reveal his identity.
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“My Lady, Marinette, if you’re worried about your safety, maybe we should do something about it. I could move in with you, or in a flat nearby, maybe, stay transformed or wear a mask at all times so you don’t know who I am, we can figure it out… Of course I know you can protect yourself, but I could stand guard while you sleep, or...” Chat raked his hand through his hair as he thought.
“You know I love you, Chaton, and that’s why I can’t let you do that! You can’t live like that, I can’t ask that of you. Not to mention how difficult it would be for me, do you really think I could resist having you so close, and not trying to get a glimpse of who you are?” She joked, trying to diffuse the sudden tension.
“Then we need to get you a bodyguard,” he insisted.
“I thought about it, but… Well, I can’t really afford it, and how could I justify suddenly needing personal security? I’m just a designer, and nothing I’ve ever done has been avant-garde enough that I should be worried about my safety.” She shook her head.
“Damn, I knew I should have targeted Chat Noir,” Alix swore under her breath. “He would’ve had to reveal his identity, and she definitely wouldn’t have been a pushover on her kitty’s protection matter. Come on Adrien, do something.”
She could tell that he was up to something just by looking at him. He’d been silent for a little too long for it to be natural. Cogs turned in his head, making him squint. He let go of her completely and paced around the roof, almost pulling his hair out as he did so. Alix sensed that whatever was on his mind was going to be big. She leaned forwards in anticipation.
Finally, Chat Noir came to a halt in front of Marinette, the fever in his eyes and his dishevelled hair making him look slightly unhinged.
“Buguinette, I think I’ve got a solution,” he whispered.
“You do?” Marinette’s voice was full of hope, although she looked slightly concerned about him.
“You’re probably not going to like it,” he warned her, lifting a finger.
“Beggars can’t be choosers.” She shrugged, taking a step forward.
“Right.” He gave her one last look, an opportunity to stop him before the words tumbled out. She nodded encouragingly. “Okay, here’s the thing. I have it on very good authority that Adrien Agreste is being pressured into getting married by his father.”
“I see Gabriel’s just as delightful as always,” Marinette shook her head.
“Unlike good cheese, he definitely doesn’t get better with time.” Chat smiled bitterly, eyes losing focus a little.
“What’s it got to do with us, though?” Marinette prompted, placing a hand on his arm.
“Oh, Agreste, you absolute genius, I think I know where this is going.” Alix took another handful of popcorn.
“Oh, yes, right.” He cleared his throat. “See, Adrien’s not dating anyone at the moment…” Right, Alix snorted. “And he’s not really planning on starting a relationship with his father breathing down his neck, but, well, he happens to owe me a favour, and I’m sure that he’d be more than happy to put his security detail to good use…”
“So you’re suggesting that I marry Adrien.” Marinette deadpanned.
“Well, er, I actually thought you could just date, but thinking about it… It would be less strange for you to request a bodyguard if your relationship was more serious…” He trailed off.
Alix was impressed by how well he concealed his emotions. His poker face was truly exceptional.
“And you think Adrien would be ready to marry me because of a favour he owes you?” Marinette crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips and squinting at him as she tried to pick at his lie.
Alix winced for Chat. Maybe he should have waited a bit before blurting out the (as it turned out) probably only sane option in that situation so he could work out all of the details for himself. Marinette was very good at trying to shake plans to see how solid their foundations were.
“Please. Adrien had a crush on you when you were younger, if anything I could probably smuggle it as another favour, given how perfect the fake scenario would be. Although I guess that since you also liked him… It might just cancel out.” He tapped his lip pensively.
“Adrien had a crush on me?” Marinette frowned. “Oh, you must mean Ladybug. I think Nino mentioned it once.”
“Well, yes, but he also had one on you, Marinette.” Chat stepped forward, mischief twinkling in his eyes as he poked her on the nose.
“Really, now,” she muttered to herself.
“The main reason he didn’t act on it was that he thought you loved somebody else.” Chat smiled ironically.
“Wow, what a pair of idiots.” Marinette chuckled.
“You don’t know the half of it.” He kissed her forehead.
“But you know what?” Marinette didn’t pick up on her partner’s comment. “I’m actually glad we didn’t get together. It probably would have delayed us getting together.” She pressed a peck to his lips. “If we’d gotten together at all in that timeline.” She smirked.
Alix snorted. Out of all the timelines she’d watched unfold in an attempt to keep things in check, there wasn’t a single one where Marinette and Adrien, Ladybug and Chat Noir, didn’t end up together, and not just because of her interventions to help them, and the rest of the planet, stay alive.
Marinette’s face fell at Chat Noir’s lack of response. Alix knew her friend didn’t particularly believe in soulmates, but she understood that she would have liked a sappy Chat Noir special comment on how he’d told her he’d grow onto her anyway, and that she would have soon discovered that the Agreste boy had nothing on him. She assumed that he was too busy restraining himself from saying the wrong thing.
“Actually… What about us, then?” Marinette cleared her throat and looked up at him, eyes glistening slightly in the half light.
“My Lady… If you really think that you being a divorcée will spur me away…” Chat Noir looked down at their entwined hands, locks of blond hair falling in front of his eyes, concealing his giddy smile from her. You sneaky cat, Alix thought.
Marinette followed his gaze, letting out a long sigh as she watched their hands sway lightly. Alix knew her brain was probably trying to find all the flaws in the plan. She crossed her fingers, hoping that it would be enough for her friend to accept. It was perfect, whether they got their act together and figured everything out before the event, or not.
“Fine,” Marinette finally said with resolve, making Alix mentally thank whoever was out there. “I’ll do it on two conditions.”
“Anything, my love.” Chat let out a sigh of relief.
“Firstly, we’re honest with Adrien from the get go. No lying about anything.” Chat nodded along. “Secondly, we get cracking on finding Hawkmoth, and after we do and the divorce is settled, if we even get that far with Adrien because obviously if everything is settled before the wedding we won’t be going through the whole plan…” Chat smiled fondly as she took a deep breath. “After all that, we are getting married.” She gestured between the both of them.
“My Lady, are you proposing to me right meow?” Chat Noir all but purred.
“I guess so.” Marinette shrugged, a smile and a blush spreading on her cheeks.
“Wow, then, I’m definitely putting Adrien in charge of the proposal planning,” he replied with a smirk.
“Chaton!” She stomped her foot, her mildly amused smile cancelling out her frown.
“What?” He teased her.
“Will you? Marry me?” She held his gaze.
“Do you even have to ask?” He chuckled. “You know, my Lady, I’m pretty sure that, in my head, we’ve been married since that speech you gave on the Eiffel Tower during our very first fight. Well, I’ve been married to you; you do whatever you please.”
“You’re such a dork,” Marinette laughed, brushing her nose against his and throwing her arms around his neck.
“And yet you still love me.” He pulled her closer.
“Unfortunately, I do,” she sighed dramatically before pressing a kiss to his lips.
Alix dismissed the screen. She’d seen what she wanted, and it seemed like a good place to stop; a happy, sappy ending. Also, she’d finished all of her popcorn.
Everything was on track, her friends would start their Hawkmoth hunt, and soon everybody in Paris would be able to live without fear of their own negative emotions.
(Of course, that was the theory; she’d soon find out that she’d underestimated Adrien’s will to organise the perfect wedding for Marinette, and that, my friends, was no small oversight.)
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szivtalan · 3 years
Text
love is in the words unspoken
all these moments are golden,
forever is mine with you
the blossoming of the cherry trees always puts hawks in a strange mood. he thinks they’re romantic, magical - reminds him of a time when he was more naive, more dreamy, didn’t know much about the world. it’s nostalgic, to see the carpet of sakura petals on the streets, reminding him of what is and what could’ve been.
‘hawks!’
it’s ironic that he runs into endeavor’s child just as the flowers begin to fall.
‘hey, it’s todoroki.’ he grins, glancing at the two heroes behind the one already rushing up to him: deku and dynamight. ah yes, the three musketeers, as they call themselves. it’s nice to see the top three teaming up that way. ‘where’s the honorific though, kiddo? i’m still much older than you.’
‘not that much.’ shoto replies, and it feels like a shot to the heart. that’s right... they’re both in their twenties now. ‘and i figured i’d drop the honorifics now that i’m above you on the hero ranking list.’
the tilt of his head would be adorable if he weren’t such an asshole. tokoyami was right when he said that his youngest was different than endeavor - hawks only wished to see such a playful side of him.
‘the disrespect.’ hawks laughs, slapping shoto on the shoulder. he hits harder than what would be necessary, but the boy doesn’t even bat an eye. sturdy. and tall. holy shit, is he taller than hawks now? ‘anyway, i really don’t mind. are you guys patrolling around here?’
‘GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE HALF-AND-HALF, BEFORE I GO THERE AND BEAT IT!’ one youngster yells at them.
‘kacchan, don’t be so rude! he’s talking to hawks-san!’
‘friendly bunch.’ hawks snorts, and shoto just shakes his head with a smile.
‘they’re the best. i’m just trying to catch up.’ he admits, sounding sincere.
‘DON’T IGNORE ME, FUCKFACE!’
‘what are you doing around here anyway?’ shoto asks. ‘isn’t your office in a different city?’
‘yeah, i just came here to stretch my wings, take a walk.’ hawks says, ruffling his feathers a little for emphasis.
‘are you walking on your wings?’
‘n-no...?’
‘then how-’
‘WRAP IT UP NOW!’ at dynamight’s next shout, shoto visibly flinches. he seems more irritated than scared, at least to hawks.
‘i just wanted to thank you for helping my dad all those years ago.’ shoto says then, bowing his head a little. hawks takes it back, he doesn’t have an ounce of disrespect in his body. he’s just a little warped in the social area, and hawks has a fairly good guess where he gets that from. ‘i’ll be going now.’
‘wait, ah- how, how’s the old man?’ hawks tries to aim for anything but desperate. ‘i haven’t heard from him since the retirement.’
shoto looks at him thoughtfully, and those dual-colored eyes make hawks immeasurably nervous. he feels like he’s staring into his soul, opening up the secrets he’s got locked inside.
‘he’s well. i go home on weekends.’ shoto says, pulling up a notebook and a pen. ‘here’s the address. i think he’d appreciate the visit.’
the road to the todoroki estate was the most tiring one hawks had taken in a while. it’s not like it was far from where they met with shoto, but he spent the entire time worrying if he’s dressed well for the occasion, if he should just walk instead of flying to not get gross and sweaty - if endeavor will even let him in, or he’ll just pass by and get told off.
the house is huge, traditional, designed in classic enji taste. hawks could see the roof from a street away, almost walks into a lamppost while staring, his heart picking up the speed both from the scare and the nerves. his feet feel heavier with every step, walking down the street, finally getting to the gate-
and seeing todoroki enji, former number one hero, the feared endeavor sweep the walkway to his door, the scene way too casual to not send an already spring-up hawks into hysterics.
‘what the hell is that?’ hawks spits, laughter erupting from deep in his belly. the look on endeavor’s face just makes him shriek louder, his abs clenching with it. ‘is that- a fucking broom for ants, endeavor, you look so funny-’
‘can’t a man just do his chores in peace?!’ endeavor’s yelling now; sparks fly on his heated skin, and then they burst into flames.
‘now that’s the endeavor-san i know and love.’ he laughs, holding onto his own stomach, wiping his tears. endeavor’s face appears red under all that fire, he walks up to the gate to let him in.
‘what are you doing here, anyway?’ he mumbles, extinguishing himself as hawks walked in. he holds his broom under his armpit rather awkwardly, with the gracelessness of a man not quite used to doing the cleaning. hawks looks at him, observes: the slouch in his shoulders, the specks of grey in his stubble, the blush high on his cheek, the early wrinkles. he smiles to himself, reasons unknown, buried deep in a secluded part of his heart.
‘ran into your kid downtown, he said i should drop by and say hello.’ hawks lifts the nylon bags he’s been carrying, offers a lopsided grin. ‘i brought takeout.’
‘hmpft.’ endeavor is elaborate, as always. a man of few words and plenty actions, something hawks has always admired in him. ‘you can stay. only for the food.’
‘so you’re still very much hopeless in the kitchen, eh?’
‘don’t make me change my mind, brat!’
the house is huge on the inside, at least five bedrooms, two bathrooms, a big kitchen and dining room, and one living room all fit into one floor. all of it echoes from their steps, empty and lonely.
‘your boy said that he’s visiting you on weekend.’ hawks pries, shrugging his coat off as he hands over the bag. his fingers brush against endeavor’s fight-hardened, calloused ones and his heart feels like it could jump out of his chest again.
‘whenever he has the time. shoto’s a busy man.’ endeavor nods, his voice dripping with pride. hawks doesn’t need him to say any more to know how fond he is of his son. it makes him smile, actually. ‘why?’
‘and the rest of your family?’ he asks, a little more cautious.
‘i see rei and natsuo on holidays, and fuyumi usually spends her school breaks here.’ enji sets down the bag at the low table, grabs a pair of chopsticks from the dish rack. there are plates piled high there: it seems like he can clean up after himself, but refuses to put things away. hawks figures it’s pretty comfortable, considers that for a second before he realizes how much he can see into endeavor’s private life.
they sit down at the same time, and their eyes meet. ‘i’m not lonely.’ enji immediately turns defensive. there’s probably pity or sadness in hawks’ eyes, he wasn’t paying attention to his expression for a second.
‘i wasn’t suggesting you were.’
‘being alone is something i deserve. so i take my punishment with pride and strength.’ enji squares his shoulder, sitting up impossibly straight at his uncomfortable seat. he takes the boxes out, scatters them across the table for them to reach. no plates, though. ‘itadakimasu.’
they eat mostly in silence, warm, comfortable, and hawks can’t take his eyes off him. endeavor looks so casual, so approachable like this. he looks soft, in the slightly frayed sweatpants, a little weary from use, and the soft cotton shirt hugging his bulging muscles, stretching across his enormous shoulders. his face is a little thin, the wrinkles obvious on its unharmed half. from this close, hawks can see the grey hairs on his temple, too.
‘i’m looking for a place to stay.’ hawks announces once they’re finished eating. the look of surprise and something else - hope? no, it can’t be... - flashing across endeavor’s face startles him, but he’s not about to back down, now. ‘what-... ugh, how much do you think you’d rent out a room for?’
‘what?’ endeavor appears shell-shocked. ‘wh- why?’
‘well, because my apartment building is remodeling, and i’m pretty sick of living in the busier side of the city anyway. figured i’d change it up, move into the suburbs-’
‘that’s not what i’m asking.’ he snaps. ‘why me? don’t you have friends who’d let you stay with them?’
‘not anyone i’d like to move in with.’ hawks shrugs, playing with a few leftover grains of rice. ‘you know, i can cook, and i’m also willing to dry off and put away your damn dishes.’
‘hawks...’
‘c’mon, we can have sleepovers! i can braid your hair and you can braid mine. it will be fun!’
‘i can’t let you do that, hawks.’
‘okay, yes, i admit, your mane’s a little short for a proper french braid, but i can make do-’
‘hawks.’ enji’s voice booms. ‘no.’
‘you’ve known me for almost a decade, old man.’ hawks is talking back, suddenly fired up. ‘why won’t you just let me take care of you?’
‘because i’m a perfectly capable person who doesn’t need anyone to take care of them.’ he huffs, steam seeping from his nose. ‘and because i can’t let you do that to yourself.’
‘what, enji?’ he’s loud. is he shouting? he can’t tell.
‘waste your time on a bitter old man who isn’t worthy of you.’
now they’re pulling up the big guns. hawks deflates, props his head up on his elbows.
‘retired, but still on your self-deprecating bullshit.’ he sighs. ‘will you take it to the grave?’
‘hawks, i’m serious-’
‘and i’ve been serious, too. my entire life, about my feelings for you. you kept shaking me off, saying it wasn’t appropriate for someone your age dating someone so young, saying you were married, but all this time, i kept getting refused because you hate yourself too much to allow yourself to be loved?’
hawks doesn’t know when he stood up, but he’s falling to his knees beside enji now.
‘what kind of an asshole does that...?’ he whispers, staring right into enji’s fearful eyes.
‘an asshole who cares about you.’ enji murmurs, letting hawks hit him in the chest.
‘this isn’t “caring” about someone! this is just lying to yourself and keeping yourself from being happy!’ his fingers tangle in the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.
‘keigo-’ enji hisses, losing his balance and gripping the edge of the table so he doesn’t fall against the other man.
‘tell me no.’ hawks proposes, his free hand coming up to cradle his jaw, so prickly and manly and strong, the shudder that ripples through him from the gentle touch, making him so weak and vulnerable. ‘no more running away, enji, no more games. tell me no right now, and i won’t ever bother you again.’
endeavor furrows his brows, the skin around his scar pulling grotesquely over his face with the struggle. he takes a deep breath, and hawks gets goosebumps as the hot air from the exhale hits his skin.
‘i can’t...’ enji whispers, and hawks can barely hear over the sound of his heart shattering. he starts to let go, but he forgets to breathe and move altogether as enji leans in instead, hand coming up to hold him close by the back of his head. ‘i can’t say no, not anymore...’
the first touch of lips against his have his insides flutter, almost working him into a panicked frenzy. he can only hope that enji can’t feel his heart beating in his throat as he kisses him, deep and desperate and oh so careful. hawks clings into him, lets him chase him for a change, holds on for the ride.
when they separate, hawks feels dizzy, drunk with heat and pleasure. enji looks just about as much present, he seems dumbfounded.
‘well, uh.’ he says, and hawks would kick anyone who says he doesn’t have a way with words.
‘i can come on thursdays and fridays.’ he offers, for now. ‘that way your kids can still have you on weekends.’
‘thanks.’ that’s all endeavor says before he pushes a few stray strands of hair back from hawks’ face, leans in for another kiss.
it’s a date, then.
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send-me-your-hcs · 4 years
Note
Mafia boss Tony sends his son Peter away at a young age to live with his aunt and uncle. Every month he goes to visit his son. Maybe he takes Peter somewhere nice like the movies or Central Park. Without fail, their nights together always ends with Tony balls deep in a sobbing Peter. A support check arrives for Peter the next morning.
Oh fuck me I love this prompt. Ty anon
Warnings: Age unspecified Peter but IMPLIED very underage, incest, noncon, creepy dark bio dad!Tony, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.
“You’ve grown.”
The boy sinks lower in his chair, attempting to hide behind the other side of the table. He still hasn’t looked Tony in the eyes once since he picked him up from the Parkers’. It goes beyond Peter’s regular shyness - the boy is fidgety, morose. A typical teenager, maybe. Except that he’s not.
When Tony gives him an impatient look, Peter meekly shrugs, responding without responding. He’s always been a very quiet boy, but the silent treatment is especially irritating. Tony takes a sip of his wine in an attempt to crush the feeling. Their visit’s only just begun. It’s too early to fight.
When the waiter comes to refill his glass, Tony says, “And one for him, too.” Peter looks up, shocked, adorably concerned, but the waiter doesn’t bat an eye as he fills the empty wine glass beside his iced tea. This isn’t the first time Tony’s brought his son here. Even if it had been, everyone knows they’d lose a lot more than Tony’s business if they dared refuse his request.
Peter stares at the glass once the waiter leaves. Tony smiles at him as he sips his own, but the boy’s gaze is fixated. “Drink up,” he orders softly, watching the worry deepen on Peter’s handsome face. He doesn’t move. “Drink it, Peter.”
The boy’s hands shake as he lifts the heavy glass to his lips. Everything about it reminds Tony how young his son is - the way his face scrunches up at the taste, the way he carefully lifts the glass by the bowl with both hands, not trusting himself to use the stem. The way his hands look terribly, unbelievably small, his fingers short and thin as they wrap around the wide bowl beneath the rim. He truly is just a little slip of a thing. Bigger than last month, sure, he’s at that age. But only just starting the long ascent into adulthood.
It’s only been a month since they last saw each other, but already, Peter’s hand-me-down clothes are fitting just a little better than they were before, not as loose and baggy around the ankles, not hanging as low down his thighs. The Parkers tried to dress him up, as they always do, but they seem to have some aversion to using Tony’s money to buy his son nice things. The button-up shirt and dress slacks they wrapped him in are clearly Ben’s, trimmed and hemmed amateurishly to fit tighter on Peter’s skinny body. Any charm the look has is only attributed to the fact that it’s Peter wearing it.
“Apparently I need to take you shopping,” Tony muses, mostly to himself. “Drink, Peter. We’ll have a different wine when dinner is served.”
Peter takes a long, deep breath through his nose and lifts the glass to his lips again, then steels himself and gulps the rest of the burgundy liquid down. Tony chuckles, pointedly not mentioning that the alcohol is going to hit him much faster now, and lets the boy go back to sulking, tense and silent, in his chair.
After dinner, Tony loads a wobbly, light-headed Peter into his car and drives him to the Hall of Science. Peter is a little more animated as they walk around and take everything in, but Tony suspects that’s mostly the alcohol’s doing. The boy still hasn’t said much and he shies away when Tony wraps an arm around his shoulders, flinching at the contact. Tony buys him a little souvenir at the giftshop and ruffles Peter’s hair when the boy mumbles a quiet thank you.
They don’t say a word on the drive to the hotel. Peter’s never once asked why Tony doesn’t bring him to the penthouse during their visits, and Tony’s in no hurry to tell him. If the Parkers have told his son what he truly does for a living, behind the scenes, Peter’s never acted differently for it. He’s still the same sullen little boy he’s always been.
The room Tony rented is a bright and vast penthouse suite that costs more money per night than the Parkers pay for their monthly mortgage. The California King bed stands in the middle of the main room like a centerpiece, drawing your gaze to it as soon as you walk through the door. Tony suspects that’s not the reason Peter hasn’t taken his wide eyes off it. He stays huddled in the foyer, fidgeting with the toy Tony bought him at NYSCI, looking terribly lost.
Tony pours himself a glass of scotch at the bar and pulls his tie free from his neck. “Come here, Peter,” he calls gently, watching the boy teeter and debate whether or not he should obey. In the end, he knows there’s nowhere else to go. He keeps his head down as he shuffles his feet forward into the room, like he’s dragging himself towards his father.
Tony sips his drink and looks the boy over. He’s growing up. Every month he gets more beautiful, his features filling out to define his gentle face. If he resembles anyone in their family, it’s Tony’s own mother, with that soft head of hair and big, dark bambi eyes.
He cups the boy’s chin, thumbing over his bottom lip. Peter’s eyes are already glazing over with tears. It makes Tony’s skin itch, all the little hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Peter has always been so receptive to him. Always reacting. Feeling. Submitting.
He takes the back of the boy’s head to hold him still, grip tightening ever so slightly as he leans down and kisses him.
Harsh, labored breaths ghost over the pillows Peter’s face is buried in. Tony trails kisses over his shoulder blades, hips still gently rocking as he rides out his orgasm. Peter’s knuckles are bone-white as they clutch the sheets, strangling the soft material for all he’s worth.
Tony pants against his son’s back. The silky clutch around his softening cock is absolutely divine; warm and dripping wet where they’re still sealed together. Peter’s back trembles as he struggles to hold in his hiccuping sobs, making his tight skin dance across Tony’s lips.
“My good boy,” Tony sighs happily against Peter’s glistening skin. He kisses him again and grinds his hips against Peter’s ass, grinning when the boy whines and shivers. “Did you get off, honey? Did you come for Daddy?”
Peter gives him a stiff, curt nod, but when Tony wedges a hand beneath his hips to his pelvis, he finds his cock still hard, the tip leaking. He clicks his tongue in disapproval and wraps his hand around the boy’s shaft. “Peter. Why are you lying to me? It’s obvious you didn’t come.”
“I don’t want to,” Peter slurs into his pillow, pleading. “I just wanna go to sleep now, Dad, please.”
“That would be rude,” Tony scolds, pulling back so he can roll the boy over. Peter is quick to bury his face in his arms, trying to hide his tears, as if it’s the first time he’s ever cried during sex, and not the norm. “Let Daddy make you feel good.”
The whimper that leaves Peter’s pink little mouth when Tony swallows him down is gorgeous. He encourages Peter’s hips to rock upwards, rutting against his face, until the broken sobs turn to pleasure-filled groans. Tony trails his lips up to the head of Peter’s pretty little cock and back down, sucking hard, smiling when Peter’s hips stutter, his orgasm fast approaching.
He pulls back in time to let the boy finish all over his cute little belly. Peter’s labored breaths return to quiet sobs, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip hard enough to pierce the skin. “Don’t do that,” Tony says, pulling Peter’s lip from his teeth with the pad of his thumb. “You’ll leave a mark, Pete.”
Peter drops his arms from his face. His eyes stay glassy with tears and glued to the ceiling as Tony wipes the come from their bodies with Ben’s old dress shirt.
“I’m going to give you a little extra this month,” Tony says as he tosses the filthy shirt away. “I want you to use it to buy something nice to wear for next time. Don’t let May talk you into buying something big enough to grow into - I’m going to give you extra for a tailor, too. I want you to see one before I pick you up next month. Got it?”
Peter says nothing, his gaze still stuck to the ceiling. The goddamn silent treatment. Tony snaps his fingers in front of the boy’s face and says, “Pe-ter. I’m talking to you. Did you hear what I just said?”
A shiver wracks the boy’s body. He turns his wet-eyed gaze back to Tony’s face and nods, sullenly.
“Good. And you’re going to be a good boy and do as Daddy says?”
There’s a beat of hesitation. Then another nod, Peter’s lips parting so he can softly mutter, “Yes, Daddy,” before closing his eyes and turning away.
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