#pls don’t throw around labels for the sake of it
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psa: people are allowed to experiment with their gender expression without making definitive statements about their gender identity :)
let people tell you what/who they want to be perceived as rather than prescribing it for them. this includes if people want to identify as cishet despite not strictly adhering to conventions and norms.
#pls don’t throw around labels for the sake of it#the very point of the queer movement is to liberate us from creating rigid boxes for our identities#the moment we begin to create immovable definitions about the human existence is the moment we make it difficult for people#contd to be authentically themselves#dan and phil#sexuality#gender#gender identity#gender expression#trans#cishet
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au cours de l’été - jjh
⤑ translation: over the summer
⤑ summary: this is a story of an exhausted painter who needed a breather from the hectic city life. so aside from moving to the countryside, the needed air in your lungs also came in the form of a person. this summer meant for pure relaxation, perhaps your heart may dive into him too.
⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader
⤑ word count: 15.2k (so much for saying that i’ll be writing shorter stories)
⤑ genre: fluff, romance, smut | author!jaehyun, painter!reader, strangers to lovers!au, 50s-60s!au, summer love in france!au
⤑ warnings: me inserting some french phrases because I want to practice (feel free to correct me if I made mistakes, i’ll appreciate them), fictional interpretations of real-life people, explicit language, jaehyun being such a romantic pls im in tears, mentions and scenes of burnout (the worst)
⤑ playlist: everybody loves somebody by dean martin | c’est si bon by eartha kitt | it’s always you by chet baker | les yeux ouverts by emilie-claire barlow | a sunday kind of love by etta james | the most beautiful thing by bruno major | try again by jaehyun and d.ear (duh) | free love (dream edit) by honne | petite fleur by jill barber | plus je t’embrasse by blossom dearie | so this is love by ilene woods and mike douglas
⤑ author’s note: this was an idea that just came to me after pinterest kept recommending me poetic beauty/try again jaehyun, so here we are! i intended to write less than 5k words but sometimes plans don’t go as planned once you really invest in the story yet i’m really happy how this turned out!
the romantic exhilaration in my bones are off the charts because this is jaehyun we’re talking about lol enjoy!
⤑ masterlist
⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism, or hellos!
3 juin 1957
The city life overstimulated your entire system, losing your brainpower and inspiration. Another exhibition that’ll feature your works with other influential painters was happening at the end of the year, and you had nothing prepared so far. You’ve crashed to the deep end of creative fatigue.
So you needed to get away again; somewhere quieter and surrounded by nature.
That’s why you ended up in the countryside down south, somewhere within Provence. It’s purely just for the summer, but extensions were okay as long you get back at least a month before the show. Filing that leave of absence at the studio you worked at was worth it.
You rented an apartment overlooking the marketplace, where the heart of the village was. After arranging things from your boxes and luggage the entire day, you found out that you lacked in the food department.
So the succeeding day, the entire morning was spent on grocery shopping downstairs then stocking them inside your refrigerator, freezer, and pantry. Right after changing out of your pajamas into a flowy floral dress and sandals, you decided to bike to the bakery that locals suggested. A must-go place for newcomers, they all raved.
“Café des Étoiles Perdues.” (Café of Lost Stars.)
The clear chimes of the bell resounded through the small, cottage-like lobby as you entered inside. An old woman, whom you assumed was the owner, welcomed you openly.
“Oh la la, vous êtes belle! Vous vous appelez (Y/N), la nouvelle venue, n'est-ce pas?” (Oh la la, you’re beautiful. Your name is (Y/N), the newcomer, right?)
She complimented, making you shyly mutter your answer. Wiping off the flour from her apron, she introduced herself kindly.
“Je m’appelle Camille. Mes spécialités sont les macarons pisctaches et des croissants avec des amandes. Autre chose que tu aimes?” (I’m Camille. My specialties are the pistachio macarons and croissants with almonds. Is there anything else you like?)
“J'aime tout ce que vous suggères, Madame.” (I’d like anything that you suggest, Madame.)
A younger man, who went by Jaemin, was a part-timer barista who asked for your coffee order. As he directed you to the best seat of the café, which was outside overlooking the garden of blooming sunflowers, you pulled out your sketch pad so you could capture this dreamy view. It was nothing like you’ve ever seen in your life.
You’ve decided on a theme already for your exhibit thanks to your conversations with locals yesterday, which was related to freedom. After being chained to cities for so-called better living and financial standards, it’s actually how your inspiration to create squeezed the life out of you like a lemon. Although it was fun at first to see those tourist spots, it eventually got tiring.
Another matchstick to graze intensity through your bones was what you prayed for.
While you’re engaged in a rough sketch of the scenery, the dandy presence of a young man entered the café with his books. White shirt, red trousers with a matching beret, he sported freckles on his pale face. Despite visiting his favorite café numerously, Camille was overjoyed to see him and his serene smiles.
“Jaehyun! What brings you here?”
“Bonjour, Madame! I’m starving for your croissants because I ran out back home.”
“Not to worry! I’ll pack up some so you’re on your way.” She lightened him up like one of her kids, taking one of the bigger paper bags.
“No rush though, Madame. I’ll be reading and working here for a bit here.” Jaehyun affirmed, bringing it out his wallet and called out for Jaemin.
“Un café crème, s’il vous plait.” (One cup of cappuccino, please.)
Jaehyun’s usual chair was by the large window, overseeing the wide garden planted by the citizens of the village way before he was born. It was places like this he missed after moving to the city for his education and work’s sake.
That’s the thing when you’re coming from a rich family; you don’t have much of say with what your parents order you to do. However, his recent request to stay in his childhood home (or mansion) again was fulfilled because he couldn’t search for what he needed in the cities anymore.
Jaehyun was a sucker for romance; an old romantic others would say. A lot of women mistook his kindness as flirting on many occasions, but ironically he just wasn’t looking for anyone yet.
Starting as a novelist in the said genre based on real-life stories of people he met in Paris, Barcelona, London, and more, his stories were popular hits especially to young adults who aspire to find love one day.
However, traveling to the known places no longer felt fun as he got older. The stories he gathered were very similar, just in different languages. It took an enthusiastic dinner with his family, specifically his only older sister Krystal retelling fond stories from their younger years to get the idea of moving back for a bit. So consumed with the city life, he wanted to see things from another perspective.
What was the difference between a love story formed in the countryside than in the city?
It’s been a month since he arrived, but he didn’t hurry himself to do his research. He’s been reading books in his family library, revisiting monumental places, exploring around the village, and reconnecting with old friends as if he never left.
Readjusting to his former life would make writing easier when he’s motivated enough to do it again. Besides, his books were profiting well enough to his taste; good enough for the next 10 years according to his personal accountant, Kim Jungwoo.
Jaehyun resumed reading this book his mother recommended him before he left. Entitled “Réessaye”, which was about a young man who reunites with his childhood sweetheart after his arranged marriage failed. After what she put her through, he’s hesitant whether to try again or let her go.
Jaehyun enjoyed reading books with realistic outlooks on love because he found them more meaningful, enlightening how exactly it makes you feel and do. Even if he enjoyed reading sappy, fairytale-like stories from time to time, he always returned to the real ones as they only displayed the truth.
That love isn’t always rainbows and sunshine, but something that can also break you especially if you go after the wrong person. This kind of mindset was how he toiled on his stories, which gained him a status outside of his unavoidable labels such as “the only striking son of the Jeong family” or “Valentine Boy”.
He diligently browsed through the climax, where the main male character confessed all his constrained emotions to his sweetheart. But it was until Jaemin pressed the bag of croissants in front of his face after placing down his childhood friend’s drink to disturb his peace.
“Reading again?” He taunted, snatching his book away and throwing the bag on Jaehyun’s lap. “When are you writing that book already? Everyone is practically dying for you to release something new again!”
Jaehyun flatly shook his head, drinking his coffee quietly. It’s not the first time anyone asked (or pressured) him about his next release, and it’s the last thing he wanted to think about. “Not in the mood right now, Jaemin. Now off to work before Madame Camille scolds you again.”
“You’re just stalling because you have nothing to write, don’t you?” Jaemin cunningly expressed, raising a brow. He’s known to catch onto the people’s bs easily; the last person you’d want to say your secrets too and Jaehyun realized too late. Though lucky for him, Jaemin shut the topic down right away so he wouldn’t pop a vein.
“Sais-tu de la nouvelle venue dans le village, d'ailleurs?” (Do you know about the newcomer in the village, by the way?)
“Une nouvelle venue?” (A newcomer?)
Being stuck at his mansion recently, news about village affairs were now late to him. Jaemin’s finger discreetly pointed outside the window, pertaining to a young woman sat outside painting her view in front of her.
That would be you, shading all the flowers in bright colors.
Seeing a new face amazed Jaehyun, especially when she was almost someone right out of a book. In a neat bun with white daisies printed in her dress, she crossed her legs whilst continuing her movements. She bit her lower lip, frustrated over an accidental smudge she made and trying to fix it by blending it with another color. When she accomplished it, she swapped brushes. A thinner one, to outline the shapes of the flower. Her lips curved to a smile after finishing another one perfectly with the rest.
“Jaehyun?”
Jaemin snapped his fingers to his distracted friend, zoning out the window. Still something he hasn’t stop doing, he pondered. With a final snap, Jaehyun broke away from falling hard from his abstract. Jaemin calculated the problem so quickly, analyzing his friend breezily like his medical school requirements.
“Elle est splendide, n'est-ce pas?” (She’s gorgeous, right?)
“Elle ressemble à une personne décente.” (She looks like a decent person.)
Jaehyun pushed it aside, flipping back to the page where he stopped reading. Before Jaemin responded, the door chimed open again to alarm him that a new customer came in. He excused himself to his friend, warning him that this wasn’t the last time he’ll talk about the newcomer too.
Jaehyun nodded along, not taking his friend’s cheeky words so seriously. However, the final result you attempted to create tickled his curiosity, so he slyly peeked from his book to the window.
You’ve freed your hair down, victorious to have started your collection this early in your break. A fantastic start, you let the paint dry first and munch on the croissant that served as your reward. However, you ‘re quick to notice a manly figure glancing through the window. From the side, his brown eyes appeared lively even if his entire face was hidden by the book.
Réessaye by Mark Lee; he must be a romantic. Every person in your studio read it, excluding yourself. Painfully beautiful, they’d summarize it.
Daring to meet more people, you locked eye contact with him. He didn’t expect it, almost flipping from his chair. Bashfully, you waved him a hello to somewhat break the ice. However, it broke his composure, and suddenly, he scurried off with his things from the café.
Now, you got quite worried. You checked your tiny mirror if he saw anything unpleasant with you, but you’d say you look relatively fine. Oh, maybe you could redeem yourself the next time you saw him. After bidding goodbye to Camille and Jaemin, the latter chased after you when you prepared yourself on your bike.
“By any chance, did you say hi to a guy with brown eyes and a red beret?”
“Well, more like I waved at him, then he zoomed out. Did I do something wrong?” You questioned with concern, putting your hands on the handles.
“That’s my friend, who’s quite reserved with strangers. I’m sorry on his behalf.”
“Nah, it’s fine.” You brushed it off politely. “See you again soon, Jaemin!”
Peddling away, letting the cool breeze fan you, your mind reverted its thoughts to that strange man. Maybe you’ll give it some time; you had a lot of it.
“Shucks, he was pretty cute.”
12 juin 1957
The world must really be on your side with these good decisions because you crossed paths with the strange man again in the café a week later. But instead of running away, he asked nicely if he could sit across your free chair in front of your table outside. It was a Saturday, and the place was packed.
“Joignez-moi, s’il vous plait.” (Join me, please.)
You insisted, giving yourself time to subtly observe his physique a lot more. Freckles dotted under his eyes like a constellation, bushy eyebrows, pink cheeks to match his pale complexion, and wearing a fuzzy knit sweater that meshed well with his green beret. He had some sort of necklace too; there was a heart pendant.
“Vous êtes une artiste.” (You’re an artist.) The small wooden palette of paint beside your small sketch pad was exposed, finding it as a great icebreaker.
“Une peintre, spécifiquement. Franchement, les visuels ici sont trés captivants qu'à Paris.” (A painter, to be specific. Frankly, the visuals here are more captivating than in Paris.)
“Je suis d’accord,” (I agree,) Jaehyun leaned against his chair, taking a better look at you with the remaining light from the descending sun.
“Oh, vous êtes comme moi. J’habite à Paris aussi.” (Oh, you’re like me. I live in Paris too.)
“Bon, je suis née à Londres. Puis, j’ai déménagé où je voulais en Europe depuis j'avais 18 ans. Mais oui, j’habite définitivement à Paris maintenant.” (Well, I was born in London then moved wherever I wanted in Europe for inspiration since I was 18. But yes, I live permanently in Paris now.)
You clarified, beginning to enjoy his comforting company. Initiating conversations with people you’re not acquainted with wasn’t in your range of skills, though he didn’t have an intimidating vibe. He looked too youthful to act like that.
“Je m’appelle (Y/N), d'ailleurs.” (I’m (Y/N), by the way.) You stuck out your hand as a sign of respect, which he enthusiastically obliged.
“Salut, (Y/N). Je m’appelle Jaehyun.” [Hi, (Y/N). I’m Jaehyun.]
He kissed it in a gentleman fashion, applying the manners he’s been taught since he was a child. Should you have been flustered, but no. It’s been a long time since anyone greeted you like that, specifically back home.
Throughout your talk, you learned more about who he was, his job, and what his life in the countryside is like. He was an author of romance novels, yet you’ve never heard about him prior. Heavily prioritizing your work, you don’t keep up with the new releases or trends at all. Though after mentioning his last name, it piqued your interest.
“Jeong? As in the business, Jeong Tea Inc.?”
“Correct.”
His family was one of the most affluent families in Parisian society. Old money immigrants from South Korea, they brought their tea business to France and it boomed successfully. You’re quite sure you’ve seen his parents in past exhibits, but never did you approach them because you were a rookie then. But he reassured you that it was fine, and to just treat him like you’d treat your friends. Plus, it came to your knowledge that he was the same age as you too.
He opened up how this village was where he lived his childhood, so he asked his parents if he could hand over their mansion for a while for rest. It then shocked both of you at how identical your reasons were for staying in the countryside.
“I’m burnt out from the city, so I’m trying to regain my spirit here hopefully. Besides, I needed a change of scenery after living there for 3 years. My longest stay yet outside of London!”
“I need new ideas for my books. The cities don’t charm me anymore, so I returned here for peace and quiet. Maybe let these ideas come to me rather than me going after them.”
From a bigger lens, people would conclude your interaction as a sight of two artists who passionately talk about their art. But to you, you’d interpret it as two relaxed, young adults in their twenties who simply wanted to run away from the pressures of their art and enjoy the summer as every young adult should.
Not cooped up in the studio or office, but innocently waltzing around with your youth while it’s still there.
début de juillet 1957
“Dépêche-toi, (Y/N)!” [Hurry up, (Y/N)!]
Jaehyun yelled at your open balcony from downstairs, parking his mini car beside your bike. He planned on taking you somewhere a little farther this time; to absolutely feel like one of the locals.
The countryside urged you to wear more dresses and flat shoes, so you took out a turquoise dress with a white scarf to wrap on top of your head. Like your relaxed fit, your mindset too was calm. Upon meeting him, he wore his round spectacles with a red knit sweater over a white turtleneck long-sleeved top. His fingers were adorned with silver rings, then around his neck was a thin black ribbon. He curled some of his hair again, a style you really liked of his.
You can’t lie, but this man could pull any trend or style and still look extra pretty.
Out of all the locals you’ve befriended in your stay, Jaehyun was always your companion. He took you to varying places that those locals don’t visit nor tourists acknowledge in their reviews for the past few weeks. For someone who hasn’t been in the village for a long time, his memory didn’t disappoint. His childhood was only filled with cheerful moments.
Today, he was taking you to a peaceful district of shops in the farther part of the village. It’s where he’d buy sweets, journals, and accessories with his mother, Krystal, and one of his housemaids every other weekend.
All the stores there were currently bombarded with blooming flowers along their alley, bringing more enticement to those who were roaming around. There was so much life here; the head waiter of one restaurant smiling at every passing customer, one florist handing a free flower to anyone who asks, and a young lady showcasing her jewelry collection to a bunch of women who looked like tourists.
“Cette librairie vendent des livres enveloppés dans du papier. Ma mère m'a offerte l'un d'eux pour mon anniversaire tous les ans comme une surprise.” (This bookstore sells books wrapped in paper. My mother gifted me one of them on my birthday every year as a surprise.)
He trained his attention at a rustic shop with open wooden windows giving a glimpse of their shelves.
“Avez-vous fini les lisant?” (Have you finished reading them?)
“Du début à la fin.” (From cover to cover.)
He took you to this rooftop restaurant overlooking the entire plaza. Since he didn’t arrange a reservation yet didn’t get rejected, he must know the owner. Especially how a lot of the staff gave casual hellos and high fives.
Speaking of the owner, he walked out of his kitchen to introduce himself to you. He went by the name Moon Taeil, another one of Jaehyun’s childhood friends whom he used to play at his house whenever his parents came along.
Gobbling up in the appetizing food Taeil prepared beforehand, Jaehyun brought up your painting exhibition again. He loved hearing artists talk about their works, wanting to know more about their driven mindset and what their imagination is like. After all, it does vary for everyone.
“So far,” You poked your fork through the chicken, taking a bite of it. “I’ve produced 3 paintings. The garden of flowers outside Café des Étoiles Perdues, the kids playing hopscotch in the alley, and the peach tree outside your house.”
“Woah, you’re on a roll.” Jaehyun clapped across you, pouring you another glass of water. He recalled the nights you ranted not having any clue what to do for the exhibit. Then after taking you to more places, he’s rewarded to see you be creatively active again. “How many artworks do you left to make?”
“Around 3-4 left. I have ideas already, but I’m still brainstorming.” You internally rejoiced, loving how much progress you’ve made. “How about you, Jaehyun? How’s your progress?”
Unlike you, Jaehyun still felt stuck. Although he did find couples around the village, none of them intrigued him as much as his past stories. But he won’t give up easily; that’s not in his work ethic.
“Still searching, but I’ll get there.”
Recently, you got ahold of some of Jaehyun’s books from him personally since they weren’t sold in the village. You wanted to understand how he became so well known outside the labels people put him under. Reading his first novel entitled “Des Papillons” (Butterflies), it was about a couple separated during World War II without contact or knowledge about their well-being. Yet whenever they saw butterflies on the day they parted, they took it as a sign that the other was alive wherever they were.
You’re always hanging on the cliff when the scenes revert back and forth to the main male lead getting stuck in intense war scenarios, rooting for him to get out alive each time. In the end, it took 7 years before they were reunited and wed.
Jaehyun had a wonderful way with his words and descriptions, managing to enwrap you in as if you’re also a character in the book. Like how you rooted for that male lead, you’re rooting for him to find his spark again.
Following this uplifting conversation, Jaehyun finally took to your greatly anticipated spot. It was the main viewpoint of Gordes, one of the most beautiful hilltop villages in the country. The sunset was about to hit, and the lights from the city across you slowly turned on like a bunch of dominos.
As you marveled at its aesthetics, Jaehyun leaned against the hood of his car. He sensed how in awe you were, more than you ever were in the city he assumed. So used to the city that being surrounded with nature became foreign to you.
He took out his polaroid camera from his trunk and captured a photo of you from behind. The shutter sounds were obvious, turning your back at the commotion. Jaehyun fanned the freshly printed photo to dry, giving a mischievous smile.
“What can I say? While you’re fawning over the view, mine was more enamoring.”
Although Jaehyun felt overwhelmed the first time he locked eyes with you, he can’t resist the power of his developing feelings for you. The more time he took you around, the more his heart found different details about you to admire. After listening to all those love stories in the past, the people he spoke to shared how there will be some distinct moment where your heart decides who they’re longing for.
That exact view of you by the cliff, he already knew.
He’s infatuated by you.
“Tu es très ringard, Jaehyun.” (You’re so cheesy, Jaehyun.) You scoffed sassily, with a hand on your waist.
“Un gentleman ne ment jamais, (Y/N). Allez, il fait nuit maintenant.” [A gentleman never lies, (Y/N). Come on, it’s night already.]
He cleverly responded, grabbing his car keys from his pocket. The trip back to the village was energizing, putting down the roof of his car to relish the chill breeze of the night weather. You even raised your arms in the air, losing your scarf even from the speed Jaehyun went at!
The two of you belted along to the songs on the radio when the fields were the only ones surrounding you, no neighbors to shout at your rambunctiousness.
The late-night hours drew by so quickly almost like dinner with more of Jaehyun’s friends didn’t happen. Arriving at the front doors of your apartment complex, Jaehyun raced over to your side to open your door. Always maintained proper observation of manners, you appreciated that side of him. Rarely anyone in Paris that you’ve encountered treated you that way because you were a foreigner.
“Bonsoir, (Y/N).” [Goodnight, (Y/N).]
“Bonsoir, Jaehyun. Quand est-ce que je te revois?” (Goodnight, Jaehyun. When can I see you again?)
“Demain et après-demain. Appelle-moi quand tu es libre.” (Tomorrow, and the day after that. Just give me a call when you’re free.)
With a short wave, you entered your building and marched up to the stairs. A good day only meant being tired to the core, ready to crash and fall in your soft bed. Opening your wide windows to let more of the cool breeze in, your eyes easily caught Jaehyun’s classy car still there. As for the owner, he didn’t move an inch from his leaning position.
“Rentre à la maison, Jaehyun! C’est tard!” (Go home, Jaehyun! It’s late!) You shrieked, peeking side to side to make sure none of the neighbors scold you.
Jaehyun laughed wholeheartedly, not budging at all. “La nuit ne fait que commencer, ma chérie.” (The night has just begun, my darling.)
“Comment tu m'as appelé?” (What did you call me?)
Either your ears were fooling you or he addressed you by a divine pet name. The gasp you swallowed, as your entire body tingled with exhilaration. Your mind would simply disregard it like his former teasing words, but your heart begged to differ.
Rather than responding with words, Jaehyun’s voice serenaded you with a wondrous song, C’est Si Bon by Eartha Kitt, that played on the radio earlier. Out of the blue, a random guitar accompaniment followed his baritone vocals.
“En voyant notre mine ravie,”
Against the railing of your wired balcony, your body shifted forward to watch him better.
“Les passants dans la rue, nous envient,”
Your hand perched on your cheek, admiring his talent.
“C'est si bon de guetter dans ses yeux,”
It was like a lullaby, and here you were drowning in its peacefulness. Sensing the passion he gives off in his singing, your heart couldn’t refrain the strings inside from being swayed and tugged.
This was your moment of realization: that you too were smitten.
“Un espoir merveilleux, qui donne le frisson…”
À la mi-juillet de 1957
“Hello, nature!” You greeted brightly as your legs raced the huge garden in his manor. It was the first time he invited you over, too lazy to go out of the city. His social battery needed a recharge for the weekend, so a picnic within his home would do the trick. Additionally, it was an excuse to bring you over after the numerous times you’ve begged him to.
Jaehyun merely shook his head, enjoying the rush of childlike fun in your veins while you squealed and grazed your hands through the flowers.
He carried a wooden basket full of treats his family maids cooked, taking his time to venture through the rows of flowers. They were growing healthily and phenomenally these days, sometimes riding his bike to personally water them since he became busy with writing again. Lately, he found inspiration again, and so he wrote day and night to set them free.
“Voila!” You yanked out a sunflower, sniffing it a little. “Come on, Jaehyun! Pick up a few for our lunch!”
He followed your order, picking out some he found ideal. But just for fun, he put down the basket and carried you from behind out of the blue. You tried kicking him away, but his muscular arms can’t compete with your soft ones.
“What are you doing?”
“You said to pick up a flower, so I did. The prettiest of them all.”
His flirtatious words were never serious, yet you took it as a compliment. That’s how high your confidence is. Only we define our own worth, not others. The two of you chatted more about your lives until the first rain of the season poured down, chilling down from the raging heat. None of you had an umbrella; the weather was too unpredictable.
Deciding to just run for it, he gave you the wooden basket to protect yourself whilst he used the blanket you’ve sat on. Running with laughter to return to his mansion in the muddy dirt, the cool drops shivered your figure yet felt fantastic.
If you were in the city, you’d panic because it’d mess your appearance and your boss would be infuriated by your unprofessionalism. But in the countryside, it didn’t matter at all. The condition of the rain wasn’t budging to improve, getting stronger by the minute. His entire house even lost power, his housemaids having to bring candles to his bedroom and your assigned one once night dawned.
It was hopeless to return home for you, plus it’s dangerous to drive in in the dark, narrow streets too. Jaehyun handed you some of his fresh clothes so you’d be free from flinching from cold dress sticking to your body.
“Get dressed and some sleep, (Y/N).”
Nodding, you excused yourself to find the bathroom. You’d assume it’d be easy, but this was your first time in his house; a mansion even. Doors from left to right, long corridors that seemed never-ending, no maids were within the vicinity whom you can ask for guidance.
Resorting to return to Jaehyun’s chamber for help, you were taken aback by what your eyes laid on. In front of his full mirror, he discarded his now-dried shirt. Even with the dim lighting, you could make out that he was fit by the transparent view of his abdomen. Peeping like this was wrong, yet you couldn’t turn away just yet. The heat in your cheeks was inevitable, finding composure in such an unholy sight.
Though a gear in you suddenly twisted; a gear that straightened your nerves. You’re taking a bold move on the chessboard of your feelings. Wholly opening his bedroom door again, you leisurely sauntered inside without warning.
“Oh, (Y/N)! Ne peux pas trouver la salle de bain?” (Oh, (Y/N)! Can’t find the bathroom?)
Unbothered as he stood shirtless, you on the other hand silently dropped his clothes on the floor. Holding intense eye contact, your fingers graciously unzipped the side of your dress. Inch by inch, the tension built up like the strong tiny flames lit on the candles around you two. Joining the pile of clothes, all that remained were your white lace undergarments. Unplanned for the get-go, it’s the ideal set for your earlier outfit at the picnic.
“Je me suis perdue, mais je pense avoir trouvé quelque chose de mieux.” (I got lost, but I think I found something better.)
Your fingers grazed your arm up to your collarbones, faking your naivety. From your lust-filled stare, the glint in Jaehyun’s eyes darkened. He gulped at the revealing sight of you, brushing his hair back to restrain himself.
None of you could utter a single word, only the vivacious rain being the only sounds ringing around you. Thus, you allowed your actions to pursue precisely what you desired to do.
Taking baby steps towards him to test the waters, he met you right in the center and closed the leftover space. His hands cradled your face, whilst yours clung to his chest. His lips tasted like red wine, watching him pour in a glass for himself earlier. He did offer, yet you declined.
Your tongue darted his lower lip, gaining access after. Sensing the edge of his bed, you plopped yourself down the cushion. His knee urged your legs to widen, letting his body slide in. From your face, his fingers lowered to the back of your bra, snapping the clasps open.
“It takes skill to accomplish that in one try, Jaehyun.”
“I lived in Paris too, ma chérie. You out of all people would understand and have the experience.”
His palms massaged your freed breasts, throwing your head back even more to his pillows as his lips ravaged down from your stomach until the fabric of your not-so pure panties.
“Call me that again, please.”
“Ma chérie, seras-tu mienne?” (My darling, will you be mine?) He kissed and licked the tiny ribbon in front repeatedly, where your now-swollen clit laid. It electrified your bones, pulling on to his ruffled hair.
“Tu peux m'avoir.” (You can have me.)
Sex in the form of one-night stands were all you’ve invested; upcoming artists like you weren’t capable to maintain long-term relationships. Les plans à trois even if you’re extra freaky or drunk from the afterparties of your events. All that these occurrences had in common were not seeing those men ever again after sneaking out of their apartments in the morning.
This time, it’s different.
When they said that doing the deed with someone you’re romantically entangled with was more special, they didn’t bluff. You could plan bits of your life, but it can sometimes change aspects of it when you least expect it. Sometimes for the best or the worst, but right now, it went beyond your expectations.
It’s rewarding that the man you’ve slowly fallen for within your stay returned your affections.
Around late 3 am that night, your brain jolted with artistic ideas that awoken your sonorous rest. There are no hopes of sleeping them off because they tend to bother you for hours until you do something about it. But you’re already so cozy having Jaehyun’s arms around you, skin to skin under the duvet. His lips daunted right above your forehead, recalling his endless kisses there that helped you fall asleep.
Well, these ideas don’t work themselves unless you do. Untangling him tactfully, you stepped out of the blanket and wore one of his long white shirts he gave you earlier before pulling out your sketchpad and palette of oil paints.
Luckily, there was still one available candle to use as the rest have melted indefinitely. You slid the matchstick again to the sand surface, boring a flame from the friction which you placed on top of the wick.
All your ideas that night leaned towards one thing, or person rather: Jaehyun.
You spent a few minutes retracing how he vividly looked at the picnic, leaning back from the chair of his work desk. His outfit of a turquoise turtleneck underneath a white button-top with trousers matching the said turtleneck looked good together, how his ears tingled red after you complimented his newfound inspiration for his book, and the prominent veins in his arms when he rolled his sleeves due to the heat.
The thin brush you held defined the shape of his face, then paying attention to the messy strands of his hair. Stroking in a circular way to outline his eyelids, a hoarse grunt disturbed the peaceful silence.
“Get back in bed, ma chérie.” His eyes drowsily opened, lying on his side. The moment he no longer felt your warmth, he worried something happened. Instead, you’re working late at night after quite a rough yet romantic night.
“Shush,” You shunned him down with your index finger. “Give me a few more minutes.”
“Perhaps, are you painting me?” He hunched from the covers. “Your eyes looking back and forth would never lie to me, would they?”
“Maybe…” You teased, batting your eyes at him without any risky intentions. Or not?
He deeply chuckled, sluggishly removing himself under the covers. In his pure nudity, he advanced himself towards you. You shrieked, covering yourself with your free hand.
“Jaehyun, stay back! I told you I’ll be there soon!”
Not listening, he carried your bridal style, making you drop your precious palette to the fur rug. Laying you carefully, he popped each button open. By the sight of his cock hardening again, you knew you were in for another round with him.
“Wet again, ma chérie? Oh, this will be fun.”
Fin de juillet 1957
So this kind of summer romance concept that everyone fantasized about… it became your present.
Together you’d stroll in the smaller streets and immerse yourselves in the unique culture of the village. Whenever anyone saw you together, holding hands, biking, or what-not, they’d praise in the name of love for bringing you both together. A romance like yours in the countryside was a lively sight.
Remember how extensions were a possibility if your search for inspiration wasn’t found? Well, it’s not a question that you’d make one, except inspiration found you instead. And he had one arm around you as he slow danced with you in the open grounds of the village, listening to the live band covering song classics.
In particular, Chet Baker. He was Jaehyun’s favorite artist at the moment.
There was an ongoing week-long festival dedicated to summer, giving more plants their bloom and spreading gratitude to the hardworking people. Especially the students, off on their break.
The faint radiance from the post lights as Jaehyun swayed you around, making you laugh as he tried to mumble the lyrics of the song. All those glasses of wine he tried earlier with you from the bartender offering it for free had its effects, and you weren’t off the hook from them either.
Blisters started to form from your ankles, adjusting to the new pair of heels Jaehyun gave (or insisted to buy) you a while ago after staring at them like lasers. You’ve always provided things for yourself that being spoiled by someone else felt weird to you.
“If there’s anything you want me to buy for you, just tell me.”
“How can I buy you if you’re already mine?”
His smooth talk often made you punch his shoulder, but it’s just a mechanism to hide the exhilaration.
Under each other’s spells in your dance, you laid your head on Jaehyun’s chest. Feeling the strong beat of his heart, you were reminded of how much life he’s filled with. And you became a part of it, in the same way he crossed yours.
Jaehyun’s lips sank to the top of your head, pecking it affectionately. The first-ever summer where he wasn’t stuck at his desk working or drinking his life away with his rich friends in their Parisian homes, it couldn’t get better than this.
“Oiii! Flirtez ailleurs!” (Oiii! Flirt somewhere else!) The distinct voice of Jaemin, handing out pastries to passersby, shouted at the both of you, making you flip your middle finger at him.
“Trouve une copine d’abord, d’accord?!” (Find a girlfriend first, alright?!) You shouted back jokingly, almost falling due to the ache of your feet. Your immodest behavior was censored by Jaehyun’s large palms, not wanting the kids around to see it. Whispering closely to your ear,
“Tu es ivre. Laisse-moi te ramener chez toi.” (You’re drunk. Let me take you home.)
You changed back into your sandals as Jaehyun led you through the different alleys. Your vision was too hazy to navigate, so he had one arm wrapped around your shoulders. The weather grew cold too, shivering your bones so he draped you in his blazer.
“Wait,” You stopped, making him do the same. But before he could ask for your reason, your hands yanked him by his suspenders and your legs walked backward to reach the brick wall. Standing in his 5’11 glory, you were overpowered.
Yet your lips captured his effortlessly, raising to your toes to press yourself closer to him. He moved fast, one arm hugging your waist while the other hoisted your leg up. Tangling around his waist, the urge to move your hips against his crotch couldn’t be contained any longer.
Everyone was probably still out at this time or sleeping. The sloppy sounds you’ve produced were beyond suitable for any audience. Not to mention, the nasty words Jaehyun’s pretty mouth spoke in your ears desired you to fall to your knees.
“Not afraid of getting caught, ma chérie? You want me to ruin you right here, right now?”
“God, Jaehyun,” Your hands tugged his belt forward, the friction it gave to your core twitched the naughty side out of you. “Do it, please.”
The idea of public sex thrilled your mind into overdrive, yet you’ve never done it. In Paris, a city where several people started to know your name, you didn’t need a scandal to be plastered in your resume yet.
Jaehyun himself included, and still opted not to give it to you.
“Another time, ma chérie. Your apartment, now.”
The moment you unlocked your apartment door, Jaehyun was far from gentle like in the mansion. Ripping you out of your frilly dress didn’t take long, so was unbuttoning his trousers down to the floor.
On your knees, his hand gave you a makeshift ponytail as your tongue flicked the slit of his cock. Then slowly taking him inch by inch on your mouth, you’d let out a loud pop when you needed to breathe. Your hands fondling his balls, he groaned from the edge of your bed and tightened his hold on you. Tears formulated in your eyes as you got to swallow him whole, uncontrollably bobbing your head.
He felt like putty when he released, your throat taking the salty base. You hastily unhooked your bra in front of him when suddenly, his hand flicked on the fabric of your panties, cueing you to stop your motion.
“Keep them on when you ride me.”
Straddling on his lap, his head laid against the headboard of his bed. His arms roaming around your back to stabilize you, your fingers pushed your panties to the side as you pushed yourself down his protected length. Your moans became shaky. Up and down, you bounced while bracing on his shoulders.
Against his ear, your moans were harmonious. His hips moved against your beat, hitting your g-spot like the sexual ace he is. His thumb rubbing your clit, you shuttered your eyes at the impending high approaching you like a bus.
“I’m close.” You choked out, the overstimulation overwhelming your nerves.
“Fuck, me too.” He grunted, slapping your butt that made you shriek.
Soon enough, everything hit you both all at once. The knot snapped, and so did your body falling on his chest after a single scream. Panting, Jaehyun pecked on your temple as his cock softened up. Once you returned to your senses, you lifted yourself from his length, laying bare beside him.
His eyes started to fall, but before they did, he muttered huskily. “Je t’aime, (Y/N).”
It was the first time he’s said those words in the way they meant, and he’s more than certain that it’s what he felt with you. Sure, it started as mutual infatuation, but now, it can’t leave. Not on his watch.
Love was a concept unfamiliar to you, but Jaehyun slowly taught you what it was and how it felt like. Books and films may give sneak peeks, but to personally give and receive it back was made possible by him.
From this moment on, you could conclude that yes, you reciprocated it.
“Je t’aime aussi, Jaehyun.”
16 octobre 1957
Autumn made its way to the countryside.
The leaves switched into red-brown shades, the weather in the south was warmer, and the wine harvest was highly anticipated. Jaehyun’s camera was a common item in your outings, taking as many photos as he could so the two of you had something to look back on.
Planned and candid, his range was wide. These were moments that proved that your youth was as happy as you wished it to be. You wouldn’t trade it for anything else.
Painting in his mansion was a regular thing, having new canvases prepared at his patio. There were so many items that amused you there like you could base your entire collection on his home. It’s not like Jaehyun could argue; it meant more time with you whenever you came over.
“Jaehyun, if you smudge paint on me, so help me Go-” He refused to listen to your “threats”, smearing black paint on your cheek.
“You were saying?” He cockily pestered, showcasing his paint-filled fingers. You dipped one of your brushes into the new paint and chased after him without hesitation. The entire evening became a paint war, a laugh fit even after seeing your reflections in the mirror. But before you could clean yourself, Jaehyun’s camera was by your face and he pressed the button.
“Still breathtaking.”
But the middle of the season arrived, that’s where your planned extension you’ve reached its end. The exhibit was next month, getting calls from your boss regarding your return and the paintings you’ll present. You informed her that you already had them mailed to your studio way back, so there’s nothing much to worry about.
All your bags were packed in the private car Jaehyun rented. Here, you’re bidding your goodbyes to every friend you’ve made outside the doors of your apartment complex, saving your last words with Jaehyun.
The night before, he stayed over and helped you pack your last items in luggage bags. He even brought extra clothes for you so you wouldn’t work extra. You’ve talked it out the whole evening through what happens next to ease your worries. In your bed, he opened the wide windows and pulled you under the sheets.
“Write to me.”
“Call me when you’re free, or whenever you feel like it.”
Leaning against the railing of the stairs, watched the sorrow in your face over this parting. He sensed how bittersweet everything was, but he wouldn’t change anything about it. He’s positive that your story won’t end here, not right now.
Sauntering to him, you sighed whilst taking your bag he held the whole time from him. His touch was tighter as the two of you hugged tenderly, nuzzling his head on your shoulder. The scent of his citrus cologne that implanted in your brain felt comforting, despite the uncertainty of everything between you.
You hinted a minty taste from the menthol candies from his home as his lips brushed yours, colliding it timely. He waited when everyone left, relishing these last seconds.
Stepping inside the vehicle, you waved your summer love farewell one more time before the driver hit the pedal. Your eyes couldn’t stray away from looking back, the distance between him and your former apartment widening. Only when he was no longer in the frame, you shifted your focus back in front.
Your fingers fiddled with the charm bracelet he gifted you from the market. It was custom-made by a jeweler who was great friends with his mother in his younger years. There were two pendants chained on it: a paintbrush and the sun.
“A paintbrush to remind you of your passion, and the sun to remind you of the summer we first met.”
The man was like one of his romance books, in human form. He knew how to catch your breath effortlessly.
Your stay, for now, may have concluded, but there was always next summer. And the ones after that. The village felt like a second home, one you can’t neglect like the other places you’ve lived. Then having Jaehyun here, the more reasons to return.
Undoubtedly the best vacation you’ve ever been in your adult years, one that didn’t sacrifice for your art so you could compete with other artists. The weight on your chest poofed into thin air, and you felt ready for what the next steps as a painter were.
Appreciating the greenery you passed by, you peeked over the side mirror of the car only to find Jaehyun quickly biking in your direction.
Now, what was he up to?
You instantly requested the driver to slow down his pace, rolling down the window of the car. Not caring about the strong winds, “You fool, what are you doing?!”
Although he trusted your last words, he had the greed to see your face again. It would be a long time until he’ll see you in person again. So he pedaled as fast he could to still reach you. Oh, the things you do when you’re in love.
“Mon cœur bat la chamade pour toi, (Y/N)!” [My heart beats loudly for you, (Y/N)!]
You giggled at his silliness, throwing out flying kisses.
“Je reviendrai bientôt, Jaehyun!” (I’ll come back soon, Jaehyun!)
21 octobre 1957
Only your friends at the studio gave you a warm welcome back, receiving comments like “get back to work” from your first encounter with your boss. Popping a champagne glass open after work hours on the rooftop of your studio, they interrogated you with all the questions they could think of.
“So this village in Provence…. was it beautiful as the tourists said?” Ten, who moved from his home in Thailand to Paris at a young age, expressed his curiosity whilst leaning against the railing overlooking the Eiffel Tower.
“Beautiful is an understatement, Ten. I miss it dearly!” You heaved a sigh, twirling your glass.
“So this inspiration you were looking for…” Amélie, your dear friend since your university days, created some tension as she prolonged her last word. Playfulness twinkled in her eyes, crossing her legs. “Was a person involved by any chance?”
For a moment, your throat almost gagged on the sizzling alcohol going down.
“What do you mean?” You acted clueless, pouring your now empty glass with more booze. But the moment Ten gave you the troublesome look coordinating with Amélie, you already knew you wouldn’t hear the end of it. These two were such gossips in and out of the studio.
Ten took the seat across you on the table and leaked all his pent-up information.
“So you know Seo Youngho, the only son of the Seo family. Rich, socialite, a total hotshot… yeah, all that jazz.” He dived in, seeing you nod over knowing that man. Someone in the past you’ve slept with, but that’s another story. “Well, Amelie and I attended one of his parties at his large penthouse. He had his usual crowd there; Kim Doyoung, Lee Taeyong, Nakamoto Yuta, and Lee Minhyung. But fun fact: there’s another member in that friend group who doesn’t go to these kinds of events.”
“Here’s where it gets interesting,” Amélie excitedly took off like the pipelette (chatterbox) she is. “Youngho, who was talking to us for a bit, asked where you’ve run off. Poor him, he must’ve missed you in his bed but anyway! We told him that you went down south somewhere in Provence for a break. Oddly enough, he mentioned how the mentioned member moved back there for the same reason.”
Ten and Amélie gave each other another frisky look, merely to piss you off. So predictable of them.
“Get to the point please!” You screeched.
“Jeong Jaehyun, ever heard of him?” Amélie imitated your tone of voice. “I mean, you should since you made a whole painting of him.”
“H-How,” Speechless, that’s what you were. Ten went on a fit of giggles, signaling the build-up of his intoxication.
“Youngho visited the studio to find a specific painting for his home, and we helped him in choosing. Then when your deliveries of paintings arrived that day and were unwrapped, the look on his face when he saw Jaehyun’s painting was priceless. Things started to add up, especially when he told us that he called up Jaehyun prior, he said that Jaehyun was seeing a girl during his stay there.”
“A young, burnt-out painter from Paris, to be specific.”
They’ve put you on the edge of the cliff, and it was too close to call it a coincidence. Of all things to be revealed, this had to be the first.
“Well, I was waiting for another time to tell you guys about him though.”
Their gasps of joy could give you guys a noise complaint by the neighbors, telling all about your escapades of him and you. During it, the more you missed seeing him daily either on his bike or his car. It was stuck in your routine, but now it’s reverted to your old one.
Could the next summer come any faster?
14 février 1958
Perhaps your newest collection at the Louvre was your most successful one yet.
Entitled “Inspirez, Expirez” (Breathe In, Breathe Out), your sceneries during your stay in the village varied. An old couple slow dancing under the night sky, and the quiet district of shops Jaehyun took you, those were some of your last additions.
A multitude of positive reviews on the newspapers and art magazines came in, commending on taking on a fresher, brighter outlook for a change whilst finding your spark again. As fulfilling it was, what you longed the most was the one responsible for it.
Lately, it’s been tough to contact him. His maids always answered the calls, informing you that he was busy with work or family matters. It’s so rare for him to act like this. Whatever it was, it wasn’t grand or serious hopefully.
Back to your collection, tonight was the last night of it. Just in time for Valentine’s day, where numerous socialite lovers embarked on this event, but you’re more fixated that it was also Jaehyun’s birthday. A boy full of love born on the day dedicated for it, things made more sense. In case, you’ve sent your birthday wishes to him through letter and passing the message to one of his maids. Even on his special day, he hasn’t reached out to you.
But to momentarily forget about that, there was a closing ceremony held for this exhibit with the other artists involved, and it was your turn to give your final remarks. More esteemed socialites and journalists were present, which didn’t halt your nerves the slightest. You were a professional after all, holding pride in your craft as you stood in front of the microphone wearing your new favorite custom-made gown.
There are perks when you have close friends in the fashion industry, specifically Kim “Key” Kibum from the House of Key. After defending him from a disrespectful client when you were picking up a dress for your boss during your internship years, not only did you earn his respect, but an invite to his shows and first claiming of new items from his collections. Dining in expensive restaurants in the metro was a plus, catching up on your lives. Sometimes calling each other out for your sexcapades too.
Speaking of him, he was in the crowd that night, ordering every photographer to take photos of your gorgeous self in one of his dresses. Or in your opinion, bribing some by how he stuffed a few thick stacks of Euro bills down their pockets.
Only one of it ever made. A dark green satin v-neck off-the-shoulder gown, where diamonds adorned your neck and ears and white stilettos kept your perfect balance. Also courtesy of Key.
Because it’s the winter season, he gifted you a limited edition white fur coat every socialite tried getting their hands on. Your hair was styled in a bun, emphasizing your dark tinted lips from this new lipstick Amelie insisted you buy.
Most people would get the first impression that you were one of the socialites, a child from one of the affluent families even. But you were a lot more remarkable than that, having inborn talent in the arts that you specialized over your youth and rising to the top without any parental help.
“Thank you to everyone for their endless support towards the magnificent collections of each artist present. As for mine, I am grateful to rechannel my creative side by taking a break. Rather than romanticizing overworking our bones to the core, there’s nothing wrong with taking a step back from the pressure. Being alive is a blessing, realizing further how our youth won’t stay with us forever. Being away from the boisterous cities, I found relaxation in the countryside of Provence.”
Your lips quirked into a grin as every single memory during that time reeled in your head like a movie. “The beauty of Provence cannot be simply put in words. The muses I’ve encountered were more than lovely, especially the man behind the Poetic Rose. With that, I sincerely thank everyone from my bottom of my heart and I hope to continue to support me in the years to come.”
The applause roared once you stepped down the platform, shaking hands with every esteemed guest with more gratitude as they praised you. These days, socializing with them was a lot easier. You’ve even taken more initiative to greet people first before they do, conversing with them easily about anything.
Key definitely noticed that as you toured him around your section, holding his nth glass of wine for the night.
“You, Madame (Y/N), transformed into a social butterfly.” He nudged your shoulder, smirking once he got a better view of his favorite painting from you. “I guess that’s the thing when you’re in love.”
“I beg your pardon?”
With this free hand, he motioned it up and down at the painting in front of you. “The Poetic Rose is none other than the youngest son of the Jeong family, whom I’ve met through his older sister, Krystal.”
“Am I really the only one who doesn’t know him?!” You stressed, jokingly. Key was elated to capture you in his trap, the changes of your personality too evident in his eyes. Figuring it out that it was love took a while, but being acquainted with Krystal, she’s the one who told him that her younger brother was in love with a painter in Provence. Do the math.
“I’ve met him through his older sister, one of my highly favored clients. He’s not much of a socialite like her, so I don’t really blame you for that.”
Searching for a waiter to refill your wine glasses, a surprise emerged the both of you.
“Madame Krystal, you’re absolutely stunning.” Key complimented her, giving the engaged heiress of Jeong Tea Inc. kisses on the cheek as respect. Her recent engagement to Kim Donghyun, her childhood sweetheart and also the heir of Kim Couture, was the talk of the town.
They arrived at the event together, drawing the attention of everyone in the room earlier. Now, he was speaking to a few influential socialites he made a deal with this week about the art collections present.
“Key, you never fail to look fantastic,” She remarked positively, poking his necktie before placing her undivided attention on you. “So you must be (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You’re beyond bewildering in that gown.”
“Flattered to hear that, Madame Krystal. Such a pleasure to meet you.”
The three of you chatted as if you were the only people there. From art, passion, and love, pride filled in your chest when you toured your collection. It was like walking down memory lane for her, adding out how she used to climb the peach tree with her younger brother during their childhood. Once her eyes laid on Poetic Rose, she took her time admiring it.
“My younger brother grew up well. That’s all I could ever hope for as his only older sister.” She paused, noticing how silent you became when you stared at the painting along with her. She observed the passion lit in your eyes, yet there was longing behind it by the way your lips pouted briefly. “You must really love him, do you?”
“I do, truly. After meeting him, not only was I boosted with so much ideas, but my heart embraced him for what and who he is in this universe.” You professed confidently, earning an approving smile from Krystal.
“If that’s how you feel, why not tell him that yourself?”
Her fingers gestured you to turn around. Stood in a grey suit with his brown hair slicked back, it was like seeing a completely new person. A handsome one though. His fashion in the countryside heavily differed from his fashion in the cities. So sophisticated and refined, he looked like a prince straight out of a fairytale.
Your fairytale.
“Jaehyun.”
It’s like everything stopped once he sprinted towards you, pulling you off your feet for a snug hug. Your arms threw themselves on his neck by instinct, not wasting a single second in his grasp. Your nose inhaled the woody scent of his cologne, something more formal than his usual fruity scent.
The smell of aftershave in his jaw couldn’t go ignored either, assuming that he must have had plans to go out tonight. Nonetheless, you squealed as if you were back in Provence, giggling at his boldness. Once he put you down, neither of you could get your hands off each other.
“What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you’d be in Paris!” Clutching your waist, you gazed at him with doe-like eyes, instilling confusion.
“J’ai voulu te surprendre, my chérie.” (I wanted to surprise you, my darling.)
He chuckled, pushing some straying strands of your hair behind your ear. His eyes evoked so much endearment towards this elegant look you prepared, making his heart race as if he were in the gardens of his manor again.
Hearing his petname for you again attacked your heart every time no matter how much time passed, he lifted your chin high. Jaehyun urged himself to kiss you senseless right there, leaning lower. And yes, you anticipated it by how your eyes instantly closed.
Only if it weren’t for Krystal to clear her throat, obviously ruining the mood. Flinching away from your sensual lover, you rubbed the nape of your neck. Towards an heiress like her, it must’ve been unprofessional.
“Couldn’t you at least wait until I left, younger brother?” Her fingers flicked Jaehyun’s forehead, a teasing trick they used to do as kids. Even if she was a lot shorter now, it didn’t mean the impact was weak. He cursed under his breath, covering his forehead.
Stifling your laughter was a failure, crinkling your eyes to unleash your emotions. So this is what their sibling dynamic was like?
“Now excuse me, older sister. You didn’t tell me you were visiting the exhibit after my birthday dinner with our parents?” He crossed his arms, exchanging a judgmental look. For his sake, he wanted to maintain his pride. “All you said after dinner was that you were going straight home with your fiancé after all the alcohol mother gave you because it made you lightheaded.”
“Well, you know Key and his persuasiveness. He insisted I attend this event last minute because all the collections were amazing.” She explained, shedding a subtle glance at you. “Plus, it’s an excuse to finally meet this lovely girl you raved so much through your letters.”
Jaehyun kept his family life private, so this piece of information was new to you. The unpredicted way the fluttering feeling drew in your stomach, all you could do was smile from the flattery.
“He spoke about me to you?”
“More than speak, my dear. He practically professed his love for you, asking me advice on how to court a girl, make them smile, etcetera. You’re the first girl he’s been this affectionate with, and I completely understand now.” She patted your shoulder, hopeful. She had such a strong older sister vibe, reminding you of your older siblings back home. “You’re a clever, talented woman. I look forward to seeing you more often.”
As you nodded in approval, she turned towards her brother with her recurring teasing look. “Yah, Jaehyun. You better take care of her. If she ever sheds a tear because of you, I’m hunting you down in the gardens.”
“Harsh of you, Krystal.” He planted his hand on his chest, feigning pain. “But no worries. Having you and mother around me kept me well-mannered towards women growing up.”
Playfulness aside, Krystal felt honored towards her younger brother. Men these days maintained their sexist beliefs and rudeness, especially those who doubted her high position in the family business once her father stepped down. Nowadays, it’s men like Jaehyun who could really challenge the patriarchy and make women pursue a lot more than being limited as a housewife.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Now please excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”
Krystal waltzed her way out without tripping from her slight intoxication, which Jaehyun worried about earlier. But anyway, that left him alone with you. Filled with so many questions, you didn’t know where to start.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Paris? Why didn’t you acknowledge my birthday wishes to you? Why aren’t you answering my calls and letters?” You blurted without wasting a breath, weren’t trying to come off as needy, but it became peculiar when he was contacting you like usual.
You pushed off thinking of the worst scenarios, not wanting it to ruin your drive and your emotions either. Yet you trusted Jaehyun enough to know he wasn’t the type of person either.
“Okay slow down, ma chérie.” His hands maneuvered for you to stop for a bit. “Ask me one by one and I’ll give you a solid answer for each while we roam around.”
He arrived in Paris last week, which was initially for work. Then his birthday clashing was a coincidence. It would be too lonely to go home and celebrate his special day alone, so he extended. But again, it’s his work that caused his abrupt contact.
When you were too busy delving into the success of recovering your inspiration, he also found his spur to write again too. Day and night, his mind kept him tedious with an endless trail of thoughts and words. Overall, he finalized it then brought the end product to the same publishing house where his books in the past went through.
In fact, he decided to publish them specifically today on his birthday. The only day in his itinerary he planned, where after publishing, he’d hang out with his friends, have dinner with his family then run off to reunite with you.
“I didn’t intend to make you feel like a second choice, so please forgive me for that, ma chérie.”
“All is forgiven, Jaehyun.” You held both his hands, kissing them tenderly out of habit. “I’m overjoyed that you rekindled your creative side again.”
You were so understanding and empathetic, and Jaehyun aimed to act that way too. He learned so much from you as his friend before being his lover. Quickly enough, you’re both back to his portrait in the center. Like a critic, he narrowed his eyes and scrunched his nose. Tapping his chin with his finger,
“This man in Poetic Rose, he’s quite dashing.” He commented with conceit, walking closer to it to view it better. “His freckles are on point, his dimples and dazzling eyes too. Why exactly is he described as a Poetic Rose?”
“Well sir,” You stood beside him, imitating his actions. “This man here always spoke so eloquently, like he had a very poetic approach on life. He reminded me also of a rose by his rosy tinted cheeks and his beauty. He was alluring inside and out.”
“Is he your favorite muse?”
“I never quoted him as a muse because he’s more than that. Muses can be replaced once they no longer serve purpose towards the artist. Though with him, he’s the never-ending flame that I want to keep for the rest of time."
You held on to his hand, interlocking your fingers with his. The apparent reddening of his ears proved that he was flustered, yet you spoke no lies.
“Joyeux anniversaire, ma flamme.” (Happy birthday, my flame.)
“Merci beaucoup, ma chérie.” (Thank you, my darling.)
Something about his new release piqued your attention so you brought it up again.
“So tell me about your new book.”
“Let me show you instead.” Inside the blazer, there was an inner pocket that sealed a small hardbound book. Taking it out, he handed it over to you. “This is your copy.”
The cover of the book had an illustration of two young adults running down the fields under the bright sun, with the title written in cursive and placed in the center.
“L’Été de 1957.” (The Summer of 1957.)
Like a child who received a new gift in the mail, you flipped the book open. Seeing the table of contents and credits to other important people involved in the process, there was a detailed dedication right before the starting chapter. It’s an unexpected page, noticing that he never put anything like this in his last works.
“Pour ma chérie, qui a peint les couleurs manquantes de ma vie.” (For my darling, who painted the missing colors of my life.)
Although Jaehyun planned to write about the couples he met in the countryside, he chose to change his perspective. Instead, he based this new book on your summer romance, installing more original characters who made your romance blossom more.
“I was once so engaged in listening to people’s love stories, hung up on what they felt.” He expounded, pacing around the floor whilst you skimmed through the pages. There were black and white photos from your adventures too to wrap the reader further in the story.
“While I was struggling to find the next story, I realized late that my story with you was a perfect choice. When I fell in love with you, it’s like I didn’t have to fret anymore about anything. Everything slowly yet surely aligned into place for me. Like how we found inspiration in each other.”
A poetic speaker meant having a poetic, wise mind. You kept an open mind whenever Jaehyun shared his thoughts on life with you, an intimate time that didn’t require using your bodies. Whether you were stargazing or drinking wine by his patio, his soulful personality never changed.
“So I recapped every single memory we had and compiled them,” He resumed, taking a closer step towards yours. His warm hands grasped your waist again, catching a glimpse of your astonished face. Mostly, towards your lips that he missed feeling against his.
“This book expressed my own take on love this time, the one I want to grow in.”
You’d care less if you dropped the book and your coat right there, your major desire to kiss him again was driving your senses to the edge of a cliff. Nothing could’ve braced yourself the second you fervently collided your lips with his. It didn’t feel like you were in this exhibit, but somewhere back in his mansion engulfed in each other’s presence.
Your legs almost melted by your daring move, if it weren’t for Jaehyun’s arm moving upwards to your back to stabilize you more. Your body tingled with goosebumps due to his relaxing fingers all over your body. His tongue caved in your lips, and you couldn’t ban its access.
Such an explicit sight, it felt forbidden as you were inches away from the public crowd. Yet it was the least of your worries if they made a big fuss over it. Jaehyun was here again with you, and that was more valuable to you. He savored every trace of your touches, taking his delicate time with you. No past birthday could defeat this, especially when it’s the first one to celebrate with you. The first of many.
As much you wanted to keep this up for hours, your lungs started feeling constricted of air so your lips timidly let go. Though your hands couldn’t, your overwhelmed eyes couldn’t shift away from the heart-stopping view of your lover. Wherein even after such a fearless session, his eyes fused with love and need with his plumper lips.
“Everything about Provence, especially you, that’s the life I want.” You confessed this concealed secret that’s revolved your head for a while now. Yet its certainty was true.
“Are you sure, ma chérie? What about work?” As an artist, he believed you should stay where everything is accessible. Yet as his woman, he wanted you to follow your heart. Jaehyun didn’t want you to choose or struggle.
“I’ve grown out from the idea that the city life was the only life meant of an artist like me.” You replied, confident enough to discuss it after deep thought. “Cities like Paris hold exciting, vigorous flames that will have you clinging on to them. But then, they’ll eventually die the longer you stay. You get burned in the process too. However, I stand by what I said earlier. I found an endless flame when I met and began loving you, Jaehyun. It doesn’t sting at all; it illuminates strongly every living day.”
Urging him to lower his stance with your fingers, you stated one last phrase. “Wherever you are, that’s where I want to be.”
“If that’s the case,” Jaehyun acknowledged, sticking his arm out for you. “Let’s get out of here.”
Astounded expressions crowded the socialites in the event as they watched the both of you exit together. If the news of Krystal and Donghyun weren’t crazy enough, some journalists figured the mysterious man behind The Poetic Rose and spread it like wildfire.
How was the youngest son of the Jeong family turned renowned romance novel author connected to the impressive, up-and-coming painter from London?
What really went down in Provence?
“How can you miss out on the signs? Did you not see them share a kiss earlier?” Key protested to those who weren’t approving whatever relationship you guys had. He loved his tea but hated those who simply were money hungry. Wanting a chance to be a part of the rich family, only to fish them out of their riches sooner or later.
Meanwhile, the winter season didn’t stop any of you from roaming the streets of Paris. Moments like these were a preview of the future you’ve envisioned with Jaehyun. Youthful, free, and fiery, a love between two artists created more magic not just in their crafts but to those around them.
Promenading a street overlooking the Seine River, Jaehyun took out a smaller instant camera from his pocket and took a candid shot of you. Stunned, you slapped his chest with your bag.
“Hey! Just how many more things are hidden in your blazer?”
“Just my wallet and a few condoms. Why’d you ask?” He raised a suggestive brow, feigning good intentions.
You hummed, faking your deep thought mindset. “At this rate, I don’t think we’ll make it back to my apartment alive.”
Jaehyun tugged you by your coat, his lips hovering your ear to whisper. “If we call a cab right now, I can finger you in the backseat.”
You chuckled at his vulgar idea, but it seemed ideal. You loved the thrill of getting caught or having someone overhearing you two, just like him. Besides, his fingers don’t match up to yours when you touch yourself alone in your apartment. You bat your eyelashes, giving in.
“Deal.”
6 ans plus tard (1964)
Summer returned, the sun strongly smiling down to the plentiful flowers at your family garden. By the patio of your home, your canvas was already laid by the easel stand. Shades of yellow were applied first to symbolize the brightness of the day, following the outline of your desired scenery for this piece.
Dipping the brush in water to change colors, you took another glance at the breezy sky. Light blue with clouds resembling soft pillows, you inhaled gently as your brush faintly stroked the canvas again.
Your hair was tied in a bun, meaning that you’re in for a busy session. But a more soothing one as the jazz music flowed from the vinyl player inside. Stress was the last thing you needed right now.
“What’s madame artiste up to right now?” Your husband piped in from behind, placing down a tray of tea and crackers. With some top buttons of his white top left unattended, you glimpsed on his toned chest when he leaned down. But you mustn’t pry whilst working, even when temptation was calling your name repeatedly.
“The summer sunshine healed me of my discomfort, so I think it’s about time I painted again.” You chewed on the snack, looking back and forth to the view. As enchanting as all the flowers you and him planted over the years grew, you’re more amused by a little boy strolling around it with his magnifying glass and tiny wooden basket with his furry puppy by his side.
His tiny legs often troubled the two of you because he enjoyed spending time with nature. Only God knows what he found in the garden this time.
“Adrien est explorer encore. Devrais-je lui dire qu’il change de place, ma chérie?” (Adrien is exploring again. Should I tell him to change places, my darling?) Jaehyun cautiously asked, not wanting his 3 year old son to impair your perspective.
“Non,” (No,) You held on to his hand, kissing it sweetly. Although you peeved any unnecessary details found in your scenery in the past, Adrien was an exception. As his mother, it’s hard to say no to him unless necessary.
“Il est un garçon curieux, alors il devrait explorer et flâner où il veut.” (He’s a curious boy, so he should explore and wander wherever he wants.)
Life ever since you returned to the countryside shifted into something more precious than you imagined. From moving places constantly, you found a home to settle in for good. A home with overflowing love and inspiration. A home within Jeong Jaehyun.
Recently, you halted your work-related activities in Paris and came home because you were heavily homesick. It even affected your health as a whole. So you made adjustments with your schedules, postponing appearances to events to next year.
On the plus side, you could be more active as a mother to Adrien. It felt like you burdened Jaehyun to take care of Adrien most of the time because he mainly worked from home, wherein important people who wanted to meet him would have to fly out to the countryside.
Back and forth to Paris, your presence towards Adrien often lacked. Here came your biggest fear, which was Adrien forgetting you. But Jaehyun told you over and over again that it wasn’t the case. As he listened to every wrenching thought you had, but he’d combat it with heartfelt words of reassurance so you wouldn’t overanalyze things.
He vowed to love and take care of you when times get hard, and he will continue doing so.
Remember when you said how his mansion felt too big?
It no longer did after getting married.
It gave more room to grow and breathe more life into it. When Adrien was born, he was the prime reflection of your and Jaehyun’s love. He mirrored his father’s physical traits but with a daring personality like yours. A perfect mixture, the world worked amazingly to bring a boy like him into your life.
“Maman! Papa!” Adrien bolted to where you and Jaehyun stood. From the clothes he wore, it’s very much clear that his father was in charge of it whilst you slept in the entire morning. Suspenders, capri shorts, a white shirt, and a red beret, he deserved his title as Jaehyun’s mini-me.
Jaehyun swelled with pride and love for his only son, peeking over what he brought to show and tell you both. “Oh Adrien, what do you have for us today?”
In his basket, there were 3 sunflowers stuck out from the edge. It’s been a while since you’ve seen some in full bloom, lowering your stance to get a more vivid view. He took them out to hand them to you and your husband.
One flower for Jaehyun and two for you. You let out a gasp, scrunching your brows to the center. He always gave one of each item to you and Jaehyun, never more or less.
“Ooh, deux fleurs pour Maman. Pourquoi, Rien?” (Ooh, two flowers for Mama. Why, Rien?) Jaehyun let his nickname out for his lips while you grasped his small hand.
“Well, I heard from Olivier next door that on his birthday, he gave extra flowers to his mother so he could have another sibling. And it worked!” He spoke so innocently, yet it hitched a choke from Jaehyun’s chest. Your eyes widened from disbelief. The information he collected due to his curiosity, no boundaries truly.
“Le mois prochain, c’est mon anniversaire. Je me demandais si je peux avoir un frère ou sœur comme Olivier? Tu es toujours occupée, comme Papa. Je ne veux plus être seul, alors je veux une amie aussi.” (It’s my birthday next month, and I was wondering if I can have a sibling like Olivier? You are always busy, like Papa. I don’t want to be alone anymore, so I want a friend too.)
You exchanged looks with Jaehyun, not knowing how exactly to respond. Although you and Jaehyun did agree that you wanted more than one child when you were younger, neither of you brought it up again since your careers were always loaded with plans.
Adrien was a surprise child actually, conceived on the night where you and Jaehyun celebrated after L’Été de 1957 was announced to be the best-selling romance novel of the decade in the country.
In Paris at his family home, where his parents brought out all their prized liquor, the two of you drank the entire night away to the point Krystal and Donghyun had to push you away from each other from your public affections because their children were present.
But it didn’t stop you two once you reached his bedroom, far away from everything and everyone. And you’ll never change it.
“Oh, Rien,” You eased in, consoling him. “Je suis désolé. Mais c’est franchement une grande demande, n'est-ce pas?” (I am sorry. But that’s quite a big request, right?)
“Mom and I will think about it first, okay? Another kid is a big responsibility, and you’ll be their older brother. That’s another important job, can you do it well?”
“Yes, I can, Papa!” He beamed with glee, his covered head patted by his father after. As you placed the sunflowers beside your palette, Adrien then proceeded to ask you if he could paint with you like old times.
Never you refuse especially with his sparkling round eyes and chubby face that makes you want to squish every time.
As you lifted his light body to sit on your lap, you placed your brush between his stubby fingers and carefully aimed in whatever angle seemed fit so the painting process would run smoothly and perfectly. He let out sounds of amazement when the strokes get bigger, jumping slightly too because the picture became more vivid. You’d smile and coo at him, commending whenever he followed instructions well. As his mother, you only encouraged your child in whatever they want to excel in.
Adrien was the child of two artists, so it was only natural that he had an artistic side in his veins.
Too caught up in your fun, hearing the automatic shutter of the camera from your side was delayed. The source was none other than Jaehyun hiding behind his camera. Jaehyun’s heart soared at the heavenly view of the most important people in his life, wanting to treasure the moment as a lovely memory.
“Hey!” You shouted, placing down the messy brush by the palette. “Je suis très laid!” (I am very ugly!)
“Shh! Tu est rayonnant, ma chérie. Papa est juste, Rien?” (Shh! You are glowing, my darling. Papa is right, Rien?)
Jaehyun politely quizzed the peppy boy, nodding excitedly. His dimples deeply showed up, the main trait he claimed from his father.
“Oui, papa! Maman est toujours belle!” (Yes, papa! Mama is always beautiful!)
He exclaimed, pecking your cheek numerously. You squealed, attacking him with tickles and kisses back. His shouts of delight, then he was suddenly carried by your tall husband in the air like he was flying in the sky. Adrien enjoyed that motion highly, ending up on Jaehyun’s shoulders shortly after to play by the garden again.
“Go paint. I’ll take care of him now.” Jaehyun persuaded, roaming through the long rows of flowers in full bloom. Though seconds after adding some strokes to your piece, you let down your hair, put a hat and sandals on, and ran to the cute duo to join them.
And that’s how your family spent the entire afternoon. By the garden, running around and taking photos and short videos from Jaehyun’s camera. Freezing these valuable memories, this was truly the life you loved so much.
After your break, you could convince the company you worked at that you’d prefer fewer trips to Paris and stay in the countryside longer. How badly you’ve wanted to hold your exhibits here instead. Plus like Jaehyun, let influential people visit you. You’ve already made a big name for yourself now, so that should be valid enough.
Dinner time passed by quickly too, eventually putting Adrien to a smooth slumber as you massaged the roots of his soft hair while Jaehyun sang him a lullaby. This was your joint parenting technique with him since he was a newborn, and it worked quickly as lightning.
You redressed into your silk nightgown after bringing your canvas to the master bedroom, opening the balcony doors to invite the cool breeze in. You tweaked some bits of your painting, including a silhouette of your small family. Regarding where to place it, probably by the living room as it matched the theme.
“What a spectacular day, don’t you think, ma chérie?” Jaehyun conversed, admiring the calm movements of your brush. He noticed a quirky smile grace your lips.
“It’s been a long time since we had quality time like that with Rien. He’s a feisty ball of energy these days.” You replied with a nostalgic daze. “It’s so crazy how one day, he was still crawling to us. Now, he could outrun the both of us.”
“Comme le temps passe vite, hmm?” (How time flies fast, hmm?) Nodding, nothing braced for what your husband had in mind. You almost dropped your brush mid-way. Jaehyun’s lips impatiently devoured your neck, his huge hands fondling your breasts. Violently throwing your head back against his chest, a needy moan parted your lips.
“Jae-” His touches reaching south to where you desired him highly, dampening hastily as your legs naturally spread apart. Rushed exhales, “À quoi tu penses maintenant?” (What are you thinking about right now?)
“Rien se sent seul,” (Rien feels alone,) His hot breath whispered against your ear, his fingers dangerously trailing your thin panties up and down. With your hands tightly clutching on his bicep,
“Alors, donnons-lui une amie.” (We should give him a friend.)
Ever since Adrien mentioned such a daring topic, it hasn’t left Jaehyun’s mind the whole day. After seeing you in utter bliss with your son earlier, he found you so majestic and radiant. It’s a different kind of happiness, especially for parents.
Now you went on hiatus, he thought that it was the right time to have another. He enjoyed his younger years with Krystal, and he wanted Adrien to experience it too. 3 years was quite a wait, and it seemed ideal to try again.
From his nude chest, you flipped around to intensely clash his lips with yours. Draping your arms behind his neck, Jaehyun lifted your entire figure from the chair. His hands gripping on your butt, he delicately lowered you down your bed.
Drowning into his sensual kisses with his hands all over you, this could prolong for hours. Reddening love marks started to resurface whilst your fingers tugged on the drawstring of his pajama pants. Jaehyun’s fingers dove under the fabric of your panties, his index finger rubbing figure 8s the sensitive bundle of nerves.
You struggled to swallow your moans, not wanting Rien to hear it. You wouldn’t want to repeat history, covering it as Jaehyun massaging you after a hard day.
“I know you want one too, ma chérie.” His fingers began to drape down the straps of your gown, presenting your breasts in its full, perky view. But before his lips could suck on your erect nipples, you parted momentarily from him and got up on your feet. Pulling up your straps again, Jaehyun simply laid down but he wasn’t pleased from how you left him hanging.
“Où vas-tu, ma chérie?” (Where are you going, sweetheart?)
He was growing impatient. You were never to interrupt such a sexy atmosphere ever.
From one of your drawers in your vanity table, an important, half-opened envelope was hidden. You were supposed to give it tomorrow but now seemed like a perfect time. Reading it as soon one of the maids handed it to you gave you the jitters, but in a positive way. Sitting back down on the edge of your bed, you exhilaratingly passed it to your husband.
“Qu’est-ce que c’est?” (What is this?)
“Ouvre-le.” (Open it.)
Jaehyun slowly opened the edges and once he took out the contents. Reading it thoroughly, he couldn’t believe it as his jaw dropped, pacing from the letter and you back and forth.
“Vraiment, ma chérie?” (Really, my darling?)
It was from a doctor you visited in Paris a few days before you left, who confirmed just exactly what caused your health to go feeble suddenly. You already had one certain suspicion, which you addressed in your leave of absence letter. Amelié, who finally got the position as the head, couldn’t believe her ears and insisted you take all the time off you needed.
“On dirait que Adrien a reçu son cadeau d'anniversaire en avance.” (It looks like Adrien received his birthday gift early.)
Overall, it turned out the headaches and repeated vomiting you mistook as motion sickness from traveling was a surprise hello to your second child.
A girl specifically, thanks to the blood test she recommended.
“Je t’aime, (Y/N).”
“Montre moi combien tu m’aimes, Jaehyun.” (Show me how much you love me, Jaehyun.)
The whole night through, the two of you vigorously celebrated with the moonlight from the windows and a few scented candles set in the room. Wet kisses left on your collarbone, words of devotion exchanged, holding his hand as he groaned from heartily thrusting in you, the number of moans from your lips overlapped with the vinyl playing in the room. The intimacy between you two increased, almost as if you made love for the first time again all those years ago.
Excluding being drenched from the rain.
Once the two of you grew tired, Jaehyun lied down beside you. Wrapping one arm around, one hand trailed down your naked skin again. His wedding band flashed your eyes, reminding you of the commitment you promised each other. For better, and for worse.
Jaehyun promised to love you endlessly as a woman and his wife, and it didn’t cease when you became the mother of his children. He respected how strong you are, physically and mentally. He helped you in any way he could as you endured the struggling process.
At the end of the day, his family was his biggest priority. More than ever now, you needed him as you go through the pregnancy phases again. Specifically, his index finger lingered on your stomach. There was no bump or other signs of showing, except for that glow he complimented you earlier on.
“We met and fell in love over the summer, got married in summer, had Adrien mid-summer, and now found out about our daughter at the start of summer.” He smiled, blessed at all the good he’s received during this time.
“The summer gods must adore us.” Your vacant hand with your wedding band topped his. To love and to cherish. “Ils m'ont amené à toi.” (They brought me to you.)
His power on you was simply addicting, as if your early twenties revisited you. You straddled himself once again, your fingers caressing his face sweetly. When it reached his lips, he placed longing kisses there and pulled you closer again for another kiss on your lips. In between, you mumbled in a silvery tone,
“Then they led us to say I do. Pour toujours et à jamais.”
copyright © 2021 by alluringjae.
#nct#nct au#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct angst#nct fluff#nct smut#nct x reader#nct 127#nct 127 au#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 angst#nct 127 fluff#nct 127 smut#nct 127 x reader#jaehyun#jeong jaehyun#jung jaehyun#nct jaehyun#jaehyun x reader#jaehyun imagines#jaehyun scenarios#jaehyun fluff#jaehyun smut#jaehyun angst#nct jaehyun x reader#jeong jaehyun x reader#jung jaehyun x reader#jung jaehyun imagines
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okay im backkkkk 💌 anything kinda angsty for fred pls (like a break up but theres a bit of making up at the end pls
resentment and reconciliation- f.w. hcs
Warnings: this one kinda hurt to write I’m ngl, I love you Jess but DAMN - cussing probably, mentions of slut shaming, actual smut, a lOT OF ANGST, hateful!fred
THIS WILL BE SO UNGODLY LONG THIS IS BASICALLY A PSUEDO ONE SHOT
people that might like this(?): @whiz-bangs78 @vogueweasley @theweasleyslut @loony-loopy-lupinn @lupinsclassroom @vivianweasley @oh-for-merlins-sake @kitwalker02 @tatesimper @gcdric @slytherinsunrise @lumosandnoxwriting
you and Fred were friends...
...simply friends
yep
mhm
only friends
friends that liked to casually dominate each other multiple times a week
sometimes multiple times a day
but regardless of your entirely messy relationship, you were best friends
...weren’t you?
“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so goddamn tight me,” Fred hissed as he was pounding inside of you, determined to release some kind of frustration from seeing you with George for the whole day when you both knew you had really just wanted to spend the day with Fred. Right?
“Freddie, you feel so good” you said airily as he hiked up one of your legs onto one of his shoulders.
“Yeah, princess? You like the way I fill you up so good, make you fucking mine?” When you moaned in response he threw your other leg onto the opposite shoulder, determined to show you just how much you were his, and what that meant for him. He had been watching you for months pretend nothing was happening outside this room, and regardless if you knew it or not, it had been killing him the day he agreed to your rendezvous the first time.
“Yes, Freddie, fuck, yes”
“Gonna come for me, sweet girl?”
“God, yes, Fred-“ and with a harsh thrust to your g-spot you clenched around him tightly, your body releasing onto him in a massive wave. He put his free hand that didn’t have your arms pinned above you to your clit, determined to have you as overstimulated as possible.
“Fred, please-“ you whined vehemently at his rough touch.
“I’m coming baby, I’m right here” and with a final pound he had smoothed your walls with him, the throbbing finally subsiding. He rolled his hips slowly to ride out his high, and he then pulled out, falling to your side and pulling you into his arms. He could feel your heart pounding as your breasts heaved against him, desperate for air flow where he had rid you of it all.
“We haven’t held each other like this in a while, Freddie...it’s...it’s really nice.” You whispered against his bare chest, pressing a kiss or two there. He nodded and buried his mouth in your hair, fluttering his eyes.
“I promise I’ll take every opportunity to hold you, okay?”
that was tuesday
let’s skip to Thursday morning
you had only told one other person about your complicated relationship with Fred, and that was Hannah Abbot
you trusted her, you saw her as your BEST friend
but unfortunately, good ol’ hannah didn’t really feel the same
she had it out for you when Roger Davies had confessed he had a crush on you at the Yule Ball, kissed you even, against your consent
see, he was Hannah’s date
and she didn’t like that very much
to top it allllll off?
she had been casually crushing on Fred ever since she had her heart broken by Roger
so now here you all were, seventh year and you assumed as per usual that everything was fine
when clearly, unbeknownst to you
this bitch saw you six feet under
so Hannah did what she knew would hurt you the most
she told Roger :)
“Please he’s absolutely balls deep in love with her, but poor thing doesn’t know she’s using him for a roll in the sack.” Said Hannah, filing her nails in the courtyard. Roger looked at her absolutely dumbfounded.
“No, Y/N, isnt like that. And besides, Fred’s a good mate of mine and...She just wouldn’t do that to him. Feelings or not, she’s not one to use people.” He shook his head starting to get up from the tree he’d been leaning on.
“Well, she used you, didn’t she?” She purred demurely. He turned to look at her, jaw clenched.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He gritted out.
“She’s making him her personal whore, exactly like she did when she rejected you at the Ball...I mean...cmon, Rog. Don’t people deserve to know who she really is?”
everyone had heard the next day how Y/N was fucking Fred Weasley like an Olympic sport
and how he wasn’t the one coming out on top for the first time
at first he didn’t know what he did when he walked into the Great Hall to stares and whispers
George had tried to get him to go back to bed so he could bring him food
but fred demanded answers
and when he found out what it was
...he was crushed
You walked into the cascading staircase, bounding up the stairs. It was Thursday night, you and Fred’s night to be alone while George and Lee would be hanging out. You walked into the room to see Fred, throwing things onto his bed and looking angry and...hurt?
“Fred, what-what is all this?” He didn’t look at you, just continued to pick stuff up off the floor, and got one of your bras. He threw it at you.
“It’s all your shit, Y/N. Might as well help since this is the last time you’ll ever be in my room. Or around me again quite frankly.” He started to look down again and keep working but he heard you whimper and his eyes flashed up to yours. He started to laugh harshly. “Oh my god, stop.” He rolled his eyes and threw his arms out. “You got what you wanted from me didn’t you, Y/N? Quick shag and no feelings and knowing you had an entire fucking human being completely and utterly devoted to you with, what did Ron say? ‘Half the commitment’?” He smiled at you but it was one with rage, with tears pooling at his eyes, pain emitting off his body in hot waves. He didn’t even know he was shouting.
“I mean, Jesus, I’m in love with you and you got to go on and-and fuck whoever you want because guess what at the end of the day you get to tell everyone that Fred fucking Weasley is your own personal whore and would do anything for you and that just got you where you wanted it didn’t it? Didn’t it?” He had stopped yelling, his heart pounding as he took in the sight of you fully in tears now, flinching at him quietly. He felt immediately then like he was going to throw up, something wasn’t right, you usually were so fiery and assertive and here you were looking like a dog that got kicked repeatedly. He swallowed thickly. “Get your stuff and get the fuck out I can’t stand the sight of you.”
Without looking at him you reached onto his bed and grabbed everything you could carry, and swiftly left the room. Everyone in the Gryffindor common room, except George, looking at you with pure unbridled disdain.
George was the only it seemed, that cared about you at this time for the next couple weeks
He didn’t tell Fred, but it had been George that had been sneaking up food to you in your dorm room
It had been George that had sent you little notes in class that said things like
I love you, Y/N. I believe in you, okay?
He even visited your dorm one day when you couldn’t move so much as one leg off your bed, and he caught you then, while you were sobbing about the loss of Fred and yourself and he held you and put you back in bed
and waited until you fell back asleep and moved the hair out of your face
he needed to tell Fred the truth
meanwhile, Fred was floundering
he had fallen back into his coping mechanism of sex and violence, mostly the first one
he had started hooking up with virtually everyone in his year that he’d ever rejected
after all - fred was labeled as a slut so why not act like one
if there was anything Fred was good at, it was being loud
in bed it had never been an issue - in fact, it was a talent now, yeah?
he’d been hearing it around school for weeks now
how easy he was
how much he would do to get in a girl’s pants
how he dipped his wick in anything that moved
anything and everything
he got it from girls
“c’mon freddie can i take a ride just once”
to the guys
“Oi freddie, you let your mates hit it for free too?”
if it were from a guy he’d usually swing a punch
or 12
he’d gotten in his most fights that he ever had in any of his years at hogwarts
but then Georgie came along:
George had waited on Fred’s bed, as his twin was in the shower. Lucky for Fred, George had been able to trace Roger’s little dip in the gossip system all the way back to Hannah Abbott, who everyone knew was bullshit, and had decided to let his brother know exactly what kind of a supreme asshat he was being to their best friend (and the love of Fred’s life, let’s be super honest.)
“Georgie, what the hell are you doing-”
“About to give you the whip cracking of your life, dear brother.” George swung his legs off the bed as Fred continued to dry his hair in the mirror, rolling his eyes.
“Is this about the last girl I had by? We didn’t fuck on your bed if that’s what you’re so worried about.” Fred quipped and George took everything in his power to not bitch slap the hell out of his older twin. George clenched his jaw and rolled it.
“You fucked up, Freddie.” He said quietly. Fred turned slowly to look at him. “Excuse me?”. “You. Fucked. Up.” George said a bit louder. “Y/N got played. By Hannah Abbott and Roger Davies. She’s had a crush on you this whole time, you absolute dumb piece of shit.” And then George did push Fred then backwards onto the bathroom wall, but he was too dumbfounded by the usually sensible twin’s behavior to do anything back.
“That’s-I don’t understand-“
“Oh my god, Fred. Hannah’s been in love with for ages, she lied. To everyone. Roger did too, he’s wanted to get with Y/N since day 1 you know that just as well as I do.” Fred tightened his arm, thinking about Roger with his lips and arms on you that night last year-
“Your point? She still said that shit about me” he said gruffly, but a pool of anxiety swirled in his stomach all the same
“Don’t you get it? Y/N is in love with you. She didn’t say or do anything to hurt you. At all. She hasn’t been eating, she hasn’t been doing homework, she throws up constantly, she’s barely left bed but to go to the library and usually all she does there is sleep anyway, she cries all the time and it’s been me making sure she still is present if not to just see people every damn day! So quit youre moping and fix this shit or I swear to God, Freddie, I’ll knock your block off.” George was heaving, pools of water in his eyes as he swallowed. “She’s my best friend too, you know.”
Fred looked up at George then and had started to cry. All of those things he said, all of the words he spat at her like they could burn her skin and cause some of the pain he believed she had caused him, when in reality you had-you had done nothing wrong.
“Georgie, I’m sorry” he choked.
“I know you are. But I’m not the one to say it to right now...you’ve gotta find her, Freddie. Please.”
you had been in the corner of the quidditch stands
the wind was blowing against your hair
you couldn’t be in your room anymore, it started to smell like you
and you, prior to an hour ago, didn’t smell too appetizing
you reeked of sweat and tears and your own sick
you took a shower so hot you wanted it to burn you alive
maybe sanitize the last of your fear and your hurt away
you had lost weight, you had lost feeling
you all in all had just lost
and you had never wanted to go home so badly, already considering writing home
you hated being reminded that your best friend and crush hated you
wanted you to be hated by everyone else too
but then, you heard footsteps
“Y/N?” Fred whispered to himself as he saw you in the stands. You looked so worn, so lifeless sitting there - he almost didn’t recognize you from the way your hair, usually scrunched up and bouncy had fallen flatly against your face, further slapped around by the wind outside. You had been wearing an oversized sweater and your sweatpants had pooled around your ankles. Simply put, you were miserable.
“Y/N?” He called again once he was standing in front of you. You turned to look at him in what felt like slow motion, but when you locked eyes with him, you immediately felt fearful.
“I-I’m sorry, I’ll leave now” you sputtered
“No, hey, wait, please” he reached out to grab your arm and you froze, letting him take it. He looked at you, with a flash of fear and worry on your face and he wanted to throw up knowing he was the one that made you feel like that.
“Fred, please let go” you hoarsely whispered.
“No, love, I’m not going to let go I have some things to apologize for.”
You started to cry, eyes dropping again to his hand on your arm and breathing feeling suddenly like a very hard task. “You hate me now: you sobbed and you pulled yourself from his grip, turning away from him and gathering your bag. He started to scramble for your hold again tears starting to stream down his face
“No, angel, please, I could never hate you”
“Oh? What about those things you said to me in your room-” you were walking faster over the benched seats, making your way to the other side.
“I know I know I said those things in my room but I can’t believe them because you have to believe me when I tell you I’m in love with you” and he was sobbing at your body turned away from him. You turned to look at him with a skeptical quirk of your face.
“No, no you don’t.” You spat.
“Yes, Y/N, I do please let me explain” he said earnestly taking in your bright eyes and the furrow of your brow.
“People who love each other don’t scream at them and throw things.” You said flatly. You wanted him to be true but you couldn’t make yourself believe him.
“Just give me five minutes of your time and-and if you hate me you never have to see me again. Please.” He closed the gap between you two and motioned for you to sit down. You licked a tear from your lip and nodded siting on a bench besides him.
“Hannah and Roger told everyone-”
“I know what happened. What they did. I want to hear about you. And what you said. And are saying” you looked at him in the eyes with steel burning behind your irises.
He sighed and rubbed his jaw. “I thought that what we had was purely sex in your eyes. And I was too much of a coward to ever ask you, so when I heard someone tell me that my own insecurities could possibly be true,” he inhaled a harsh breath as tears started to fall “I-I was crushed. By the idea that you saw me as what other people saw me as...as a toy? I guess? Or a sexual prop? To use when you wanted. But I hide my feelings a lot as you know, so even if you did feel that way, it would’ve looked like I agreed because I hate you knowing how sad I am,” he started to choke on his tears, the anguish of knowing he hurt you this much was too much for him to ever be able to handle. “I just wanted to hold you and whisper in your ear and tell you how much I love you and the thought of my own fears being true pushed you away. And you never have to forgive me. I-when I yelled at you like that I wanted to see you hurt, I think. I wanted you to see how sad it made me to think about you with other people like you had been with me and” he took a final breath and you pulled his body into you. “Y/N, my love I’m so sorry.” His sobs shook your body, the feeling and angle of the destroyed boy you love shaking you everywhere. You pressed kisses to his head. “Freddie, I love you” you repeated “I love you here and here and here and here and here” and with every kiss you gave him, you were determined to soothe him. “I-I’ sorry too, for not being as forthright with you about how i felt too. It’s always been you, Freddie.” He choked out a watery smile and he leaned in to kiss your face everywhere he could, his tears stinging against the wind and your cheeks.
“If-If you could ever be with me I will always be open to it at any time, you know that don’t you? I-I understand if you can’t.” He held his forehead to yours, his nose brushing yours ever so slightly.
“Freddie, I love you. You were who I missed when I couldn’t get out of bed for fuck’s sake you’re all I want,” and he leaned into you then fully, capturing your wet and chapped lips against his. Your arms wrapped around his neck and he melted into you like this
this
this was fred weasley
#fred weasley#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley headcanons#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley smut#harry potter#harry potter headcanon#Harry Potter smut
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HER. - Thomas Shelby
Smut
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader
Warning: it’s peaky blinders, with smut
Word Count: 2472
AN: this is my first time writing smut, please give me any tips pls, it’s appreciate. It’s probably shite.
::::::
She always was on his mind. The woman, that always read between the lines, always two steps ahead of him, and had an incredible eye for business. She had left him years prior, leaving for a top business school in London. they never had a title, a label on their relationship, but it wasn’t exactly a secret that they always, somehow, gravitated back to one another. Often people, especially Polly, would say that there was no way two people would be so alike, strong headed but only rarely clashed.
However y/n’s degree had finished and she was coming back to Small Heath for a period of time before she was going to figure out what exactly what she wanted to do. Y/n was actually great friends with the Shelby family, since growing up with them, living just down the road, they practically lived together. Y/n was actually younger than Tommy, she was ages with Ada and John. They were in the same class throughout school, Ada and y/n regularly wrote to each other, updating each other on Ada’s eventful life as a Shelby still in Small Heath and y/n’s very exciting studying life in London.
They had actually planned to meet up, for a nice and quiet drink at the Garrison on her return. The thoughts swirled in y/n’s mind as she approached the Garrison, it had just gone 6pm, and she knew as it was a Friday, she did have a possibly of bumping into her first, arguably her only love. Pushing the thoughts to the back of her head, she pushed open the door to see a fairly crowded Garrison.
“Ah, y/n, how was London?” Harry shouted, from behind the bar. Y/n smiled at him, walking over to Ada sitting in the back corner. “It was good Harry, nice to be back in this clear Birmingham air”. He chuckled slightly, “Whiskey coming up love”.
Y/n nodded, taking a seat next to Ada, giving her a cuddle, “Unsure if ive missed this place or not” y/n laughed slightly, eyes scanning the pub, looking for the one man she questioned if she did want to bump into. The pair was throwing back drinks like it was going out of fashion, knowing they would both regret this in the morning. Apparently, Ada wasn't allowing y/n to go back home, and in fact y/n didn't have a home yet and wasn't willing to go back to her parents, so Ada was insisting that she stayed at hers until y/n found a suitable place. Y/n didnt put up a fight, despite them both being hot heads, and taking absolutely no shit from anyone, men or woman, y/n didn't argue. She was actually really thankful for her.
They eventually stumbled into the house in the early hours of the morning, their laughs echoing throughout the silent house.
::::
The sun caught y/n directly in the eyes, quickly awoke y/n from her sleep. Her head felt as though someone had been hitting her head against the floor multiple times. Y/n continued to lay there, turning away from the sun, trying to keep the contents of her stomach from getting sprayed all over her and the sleeping Ada. She made an attempt at moving, sat with her head in her hands as she was trying to give herself words of encouragement to get up and make herself something to eat.
“Fuck sake, why do we do this to ourselves?” Ada moaned from behind her. Y/n scoffed, “ Your bloody idea”.
Quickly standing up, in hope she could get it over with quickly. The room continuing to spin, as she attempted to walk to the door. Ada following closely behind.
They both sat slumped over the dining room table, as they attempted to sober up and embrace the oncoming hangover. John now present, laughing at the two dying woman in front of him.
“Good night?”
“Always.” Ada grumbled.
Pol placed a plate in front of them, toast with jam, “Does Tommy know your back?
Eyes falling onto y/n from every person in their, “No.” answering quietly.
Attempting to change the subject, “Told myself I would start looking for a new job today, since I shall be staying here for a decent period of time.”
John raised his eyebrow, “Tommy’s looking for a new secretary.” A slight smile on his face, “You've got a good background, business and that”.
“hm, I don't think so Johny boy”.
“Don’t say no too soon, your a good asset to the business.” Pol added. No one was ever in y/n’s corner more than Pol, they would bang heads sometimes, as neither of them would back down. But she accepted y/n was the only one that had the best interest for Tommy.
The front door closed, and there he stood, the room turning to face Tommy, silence filling the room, then he broke it, “Heard you were back.”
“Yeah,” she replied quietly.
“Well, you know where I am if you need that job, I’m sure you’ve already been told,” he spoke, cigarette hanging from his mouth, as he walked away from them and into his office.
Y/n let out a breath, as though she hadn’t been breathing the whole time he was there. Ada smiled at her, placing her hand onto y/n’s, “I’m just going to get ready for the day love,” and off she went upstairs. The boys getting on with their day, and Pol following suit.
Y/n sat collecting her thoughts while trying to tell herself to face her ex lover, who she was still so deeply in love with. She tapped on the door slightly, opening it before opening it, “hi”, seeing his eyes flutter onto her shot tingles throughout her body, his eyes quickly looking away
“You can start tomorrow if you wish, I need a few papers signed and sent tomorrow. I can get your contract drawn up tonight.” He spoke, his eyes still not lifting from the paper in front of him.
“Yes, that’s fine 8am?”
“8.45, shop doesn’t open until 9. And there are others to set it up, that’s not your job.”
Nodding, “I heard you have a new woman.”
At this point he did look up at her, “I heard you had plenty men in London,”
She laughed slightly, nodding before heading to the door, “none were ever a patch on you,” closing the door, leaving a smirk on Thomas Shelbys face.
The following day came around, as y/n got ready for the day. Putting on a formal black tightly fitted dress, flats and pin curled hair. A slight tint of red lippy, remembering it used to be Tom’s favourite. Assuming Tommy wouldn’t be at the shop at this time, she took a whiskey with her placing it on the desk infront of Tommy’s office. The place was silent, despite there being other employees now starting to arrive, something calming about the place, almost the calm before the storm, she thought.
The hour was now around ten thirty, and there was still no sign of Tommy. She had already finished the papers he had left for her on her desk. It wasn’t the usual small Heath lady, she was educated, and to a very high level. y/n was sat twiddling her thumbs, awaiting Tommy’s arrival to get other things done.
“Y/n. My office please,” his voice low, as he stood behind her. She stood up quickly, following him into the private room.
“There’s your contract, if you wish to have a read over it. I see you’ve finished the work I gave given you for the day.”
Y/n took the contract into her hands, scanning for any mistakes or anything to question. But he actually was paying her nearly double the rate of other staff, and just over that the London rate was, “you’ve done your research eh. More than London rates, impressive. The peaky’s are stepping up in the world” Y/n smiled at him, as she placed the documents on the desk, picking up his pen, and signing it. Y/n Y/l/n. Followed with today��s date. That was now it, she was a Shelby Co Ltd employee.
...
The days turned into weeks, spending time with tommy while no one else was looking was becoming a regular thing. She now had her own place, just doors down from the shop. He would regularly call her into the office, and discuss things that he would usually never utter a word about. It had always been that way with them, since they were little, he would confine in her, telling her all the issue and problems he was facing, both in his mind and with others. But it was also coming to her attention that he was still seeing Grace.
Later on in the day, the clock chimes 11pm, as y/n sat listening to the music that takes her back to a child, while sipping a whiskey. The knock of her front door bringing her out of her daydream, she picked up her handgun that she kept on her at all times. Growing up with The Shelby’s, she had to protect herself in someway. She kept it behind her, out of view for anyone who was in front of her, slowly creeping up to answer the door. She swung it open, gun clocked and pointed directly in the face of Thomas Shelby. Not wasted, but defiantly had a few.
“Ah, can never change a Shelby girl eh” He spoke, laughing slightly as she lowered the gun and he stepped inside.
“Although, I’ve never been a Shelby girl, have I Tom?”
“Depends who you ask.”
She sighed, stepping in to the fire lit living room, “Drink?”
He nodded in response, and y/n began to pour him a whiskey, topping up hers and handing a full glass over to him. “Why are you here?”
He stepped over to her, the closest they had been together since before she left for London. He placed a hand on her back, pulling her head into touch his, their foreheads touching. The sensation ran through her body like the first time they had ever touched. He placed his hand on around the back of her neck, pulling her into him, his lips crashing onto hers. Their tongues intertwining with each others as the kiss started to deepen. Y/n reached for his jacket, pulling it off his back, before making her way on to unbuttoning his shirt. Tommy pulled the bottom of her nightdress up, y/n only allowing the kiss to be broken to allow it to come over her head.
Their lips syncing with each other once again as tommy took his now unbuttoned shirt off, moving onto unbuckling his trousers revealing his already hard length. He began to push her back onto the couch, untangling her lace thongs from around her legs. His fingers trailing over her already wet pussy, “Do it” y/n whispered as she pulled his face back up to kiss hers.
He didn't even wait as he shoved his length into her. Their bodies rocked in sync together, “Tommy...” Y/n moaned, her fingers trailing down his shirtless torso. The stars were starting to align, the room was warm, full of love. It felt as though it was five minutes but in reality it was around fifteen all in.
Their breath shortened as y/n’s back started to arch as she came close to climax, “cum for me”. He spoke, looking at her directly in the eyes as he rocked her world. The love, chemistry, love and lust, all so very present just as it was back how they were before. Both of them moaning in pleasure, as they both came at the same time. The deep breaths and steamy windows showing the passion that had just unfolded.
::::::::::::::::::::
It was a Friday evening, a week following the night of sin that taken place between Tommy and Y/n. They had still had the talks in private in the office, and on another occasion she was fucked bent over his desk after closing time. Y/n wasn't one to hide her feelings, it would always be present on her face so when it came to facing Grace in the Garrison, it wasn't hard to tell how y/n’s feelings were over her.
Pol chuckled softly, clocking the glare Grace was on the opposite end of, “If looks could kill” Ada joining in on the hilarity.
“She would've been killed 8 times over” Y/n replied, turning back to face the women. Whiskey in hand.
“Feelings still there for him then?” Ada asked.
“No, I wouldnt say so” y/n lied.
“Cant lie to a gypsy woman love” Pol laughed, y/n begining to laugh with her when the doors open to reveal Tommy and his two bothers. Tommy’s icy blue eyes scanning the room, a slight smile shooting over to Y/n before approching the bar where Grace was, where he stood there for a good twenty minutes chatting away to her.
“I cant take this anymore.” y/n looked over to Ada, who was rising her eyebrow while taking a sip of her drink. She was fairly close to them, and y/n being y/n liked to have a slight stir up now and again. She stood up, smile showing on her face as Pol and Ada laughed, watching her approach them both.
“So, hows your little fling going?” she spok loud enough that Pol, Ada, Arthur and John could hear her.
“Y/n” Tommy warned.
“Who are you?” Grace questioned.
“Y/N,” she responded, leaning herself against the bar, “The woman he has fucked behind your back multiple times this week.”
Pol snorted, almost chocking on her drink, “ I fucking knew it. Gypsy senses never lie.”
“To be honest with you Grace, you had absolutely no chance when Y/N came back” Ada added.
At this point, Tommy had moved y/n away from the bar, into the small room, “what are you doing?”
“You cant take the piss out of me, fucking me but then fucking her thinking youll get away with it.” she was pissed, and he could see it in her face. They had never spoke on their feelings toward each other. Everyone knew that it was always each other but there was nothing that compared to them, they always seemed to go back.
“I have always loved you but you left to go to London, I had people follow you. I knew what you were up to so I assumed you would stay down there, I assumed you had moved on.” He spoke, almost showing vulnerability.
“Oh I know. I can remember faces Tom. I think you forget I can see right through you,” she seethed, through her teeth, “what are you going to do about this?”
Tommy cupped her face, pulling her into kiss her.
“I love you.” He mumbled, feeling her smile into their kiss.
“I love you Tom,”
#thomas shelby imagine#peaky blinders#cillian murphy#tommy shelby#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby x y/n#tommy shelby fluff#tommy shelby x reader#tommy Shelby#tommy shelby imagine#peaky blinder fanfic
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The Way To Your Heart - F.W.
Fred Weasley x fem!reader
Requested: yes
helloooo, can i get #33 with freddie from prompt list #1? pretty pleeaaase, thanks :)
“this is of the utmost importance” “it’s a spider in your bathroom”
Warnings: mentions of food & alcohol consumption but other than that, just pure fluff!
Word count: 1.3k
Summary: moving in with Fred is not exactly going how you thought it would.
A/N: domestic!Fred makes me 🥺 & i love this prompt it makes me laugh. pls pls pls give comments and feedback i rlly appreciate it :)
Prompts are in bold
---
It was a big step for both of you.
With the war ending almost a year ago and things going back to some semblance of normalcy, the twins’ shop was starting to gain traction once again and things were getting busier and busier. The flat above the shop had begun to feel slightly too crowded as you, Fred, Angelina, and George had taken up residence, so you and your boyfriend had made the executive decision to find a place of your own.
Although you had been living with the twins since before the Battle of Hogwarts, you had never lived alone with Fred. It was exciting to say the least.
To celebrate this next step in your lives, the four of you had gone all out with a delicious home cooked meal and some great wine. Fred and Angelina were off in the kitchen preparing the food, since you and George could not be trusted in the kitchen. Instead, the two of you prepared the alcohol and set the table.
“Smells delicious in here,” You smiled, entering the kitchen to grab some cutlery.
“Thanks,” Angelina grinned, “Fred’s done most of it honestly, I’ve kind of just been the extra helpful taste tester.”
“What can I say? The way to Y/N’s heart is through her stomach, I had to convince her to move in with me somehow.” He grinned cheekily from in front of the stove.
You rolled your eyes as Angelina gave out a laugh, “Too right you are, Freddie. What would I do without your delicious cooking?”
Dinner went smashingly. In all your life you had never felt as safe and as happy as you did whenever you were with Fred, sharing laughs and gentle touches, in the presence of some of your closest friends. The delicious cooking and the perfect wine settled in your stomach happily and the warmth that spread across your body was almost intoxicating.
You sighed happily as you leant back on the couch, Fred’s arm slung casually over your shoulder, holding you close to him. George and Angelina were sat by the fireplace, giggling about something or other as George whispered something into her ear. The overall atmosphere of the night was something you decided you wanted to feel every night for the rest of your life. It was soft and gentle, a stark contrast to the nights during the war filled with fear and anxiety, but a welcome change.
“I can’t wait to spend more nights like these with you,” Fred mumbled in your ear, “Full bellies and warm by the fire. Seems like the perfect combination.”
“Me too,” You smiled up at him, “And there’s that added bonus of finally having the privacy of our own place.”
“Definitely,” He winked, “I can think of several things I plan to do with you when we’re alone.”
The weeks following your grand dinner were a whirlwind of packing up your lives into boxes and transferring them to your new flat. It was mindless work, but when you brought the last box through the threshold of the door, you huffed proudly. There was still the daunting task of unpacking all of these boxes, but at least you were finally going to be in one place for a significant amount of time.
The distinct crack of Fred’s apparition into the middle of your living room brought you out of your thoughts. You jumped slightly, almost dropping the box of picture frames in your hands, but he deftly caught them before they fully escaped your grip.
“Thanks,” You said, adjusting your hold on the box.
“Need any help?” He asked, eyeing your move to put the box on top of the pile slowly growing in the corner of the room.
“I’m alright. Although, would you mind unpacking the boxes in the bathroom? I think that’s the best place to start since we’re gonna be using it quite frequently.” You asked, starting to mentally list down what needed to be done and in what order, “I’ll go and start on the bedroom stuff.”
“Aye aye captain,” Fred jokingly saluted before ducking into the bathroom.
You set out to the single bedroom in your apartment, taking in the lone bed up against the wall, the dresser taking up residence beside it, and the door to the small walk in closet you were lucky enough to have. There were boxes labelled “BEDROOM” stacked into a high pile in the corner that you started sifting through. You hummed to yourself softly while picking up and placing clothes in their designated places before you heard a loud crash coming from down the hall.
“Fred?” You called out, “Are you alright?”
“‘M fine, love, don’t worry!” You heard him yell back reassuringly.
He must have been bluffing, though, as you felt (and heard) him apparate into the bedroom behind you.
“Freddie!” You yelled, almost jumping out of your skin, “Was that really necessary? The bathroom is not that far away, and you scared the hell out of me!”
You went to slap him on the arm, all the while shaking your head at your boyfriend.
“Sorry love, but desperate times. I had to get out of there as quickly as possible.” He said, placing a kiss on your cheek and going to help sort through the boxes in the corner.
You eyed him suspiciously, “What do you mean? You finished sorting through all the bathroom stuff already?”
“Nope,” He admitted nonchalantly, “There was just, erm, a sticky situation that I found myself in after I dropped one of the boxes.”
“Fred,” You warned, “What did you do?”
“Nothing!” He defended, throwing his hands up in surrender, “I didn’t do anything.”
You fully turned to face him now, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “Okay, so who did something so wrong that you had to apparate from the bathroom into our room?”
“Not who, what.” He stated simply and you waited for him to continue with your eyebrows raised, “I just found a spider in one of the boxes in the bathroom after I went to fix the mess I made.”
Your jaw dropped at what he said, “And? Fred Weasley you are a grown ass wizard who owns a very successful business, I’m sure you can deal with something much smaller than you.”
“No I can’t! Why do you think Ron’s so scared of spiders? I was the one who turned his teddy into one because I knew how frightening they were!” He exclaimed, the box he was unpacking lay unattended in front of him, “Can’t you go deal with it, love? Please?”
You wanted to laugh at the sight in front of you. Your boyfriend looked at you with his best attempt at puppy dog eyes, reaching his arms out to wrap them around your waist and pull you close to him.
“Please, love, it is of the utmost importance that you do this for me,” He murmured, pressing kisses along your neck and making you giggle.
“Freddie, it’s a spider in your bathroom, I’m sure you can handle it. You’re a wizard for Merlin’s sake! Just use your wand!” You pushed him slightly, trying to wriggle out of his grip and his ceaseless attempt to coerce you with kisses.
He didn’t bother to say anything, just pouting slightly and looking at you with those big brown eyes. You rolled your eyes and huffed, but said “Oh, alright. You’re lucky you’re so cute.”
Fred grinned triumphantly and planted a fat kiss on your lips. The sound reverberating around the relatively empty space, “You’re the best love. What do you want for dinner? I’ll cook you the best meal you’ve ever had!”
At his statement, you immediately perked up, “Now that’s what I like to hear.”
He immediately set out for the kitchen, only after peppering kisses all along your face and neck, whistling happily and only slightly rushing past the open door to the bathroom. You shook your head, a soft smirk on your face, your boyfriend really is something else.
“You better keep your word, Fred Weasley! That better be the best damn meal of my life,” You yelled, taking your wand out and walking into the messy bathroom.
#fred weasley#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley imagines#fred weasley fic#fred weasley fics#fred weasley x reader#angelina johnson#george weasley#fluff#domestic!fred
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Sanditon Season 2 Wish List
Divided between things I think season 2 absolutely needs to reach its potential, and things I don’t 100% need but I would love. Special thanks to @beavesaintmarie and @eleonoraditoledo for all the great discussions we’ve had about this and to whom I attribute many of these ideas!
Most important:
Sidney and Charlotte having at least one torrid make out while he’s still engaged to Eliza. The kind that’s like up against a wall or a tree, and there’s tongue and their hands are just everywhere, and they almost take it too far before one of them pumps the brakes. The culmination of several episodes of unbearable tension before they can’t take it anymore.
Sidney and Charlotte having sex while he’s still engaged to Eliza. I’m realistic about how unlikely this is but I legitimately think this is an important step in their relationship arc, particularly for Charlotte, and it’s not just because I really wanna see them bone under the most dramatic circumstances possible. This would be about Charlotte’s own emotional journey she’s been on since she arrived in Sanditon and came of age - realizing for herself that she wants Sidney, come hell or high water, and she stops being guarded, stops being shy and afraid about the immensity of her feelings, or worrying about what the right and proper and unselfish thing is. It’d be about Charlotte learning how messy love really is, and diving in anyway. Ideally this would be when Charlotte confesses her love and finds the words and bravery to express everything Sidney means to her, which she of course didn’t get the opportunity to do in season 1. And like yeah, their first time on screen will be that much hotter if they don’t know if it’s going to be their only night together or not, and this ship Deserves that intensity.
A DEDICATED ARC ABOUT FIXING SIDNEY AND GEORGIANA’S RELATIONSHIP WHERE THEY GET REAL SCENES OF THEM TALKING THINGS OUT AND THEY CAN GET TO A GOOD PLACE OF TRUST AND AFFECTION AND BE A FAMILY. They have a lot in common now over their romantic woes and that’s a great starting point for them to start fresh and try to bond. And yeah just, give them complete conversations where they can clear all the misunderstandings between them.
A raw and honest confrontation between Sidney and Tom. It’s got to address everything from Tom’s screw ups to how they got to this point where even years after Tom bailed out Sidney, he still feels he’s obligated to throw his lifelong happiness under the bus for Tom’s sake, while Tom is barely perceptive of Sidney’s emotional state on a good day. This can’t be swept under the rug.
Belligerent UST again for Sidney and Charlotte! Let the pain of this separation strain them so much it bubbles over into anger and frustration, and they need to pick fights with each other because it’s become something comfortable for them, and it’s a release from being that sad and tense all the time over not being together. Sidney agonizes over Charlotte’s determination to be stoic around him so he resorts to provoking her to know she still cares. Charlotte snaps at him over something kinda innocuous because she’s so frustrated about everything else. If there’s another guy contending for Charlotte’s heart let Sidney provoke a big argument with her over it, let her be furious with him for not letting her move on while deep down she desperately wants to see this jealousy from him. Etc etc! These two do that kind of snarky tension so well and I’m so into seeing a new, season 2, version of it where feelings are out in the open.
Sidney having agency when the time comes for the dissolution of him and Eliza. I feel it’s important that when the engagement (or marriage? idk how far it’ll get but we’ll see) ends, it’s a hard choice Sidney makes while there’s still potential consequences he would bear, such as being labeled dishonorable or when Tom’s money situation is not secure yet, etc. I think it’s important for Sidney’s own journey of recovering his self-worth and deciding he’s done sacrificing himself. There shouldn’t be external forces, like someone else swooping in with the money Tom needs, that ‘allows’ Sidney to do this easily. If anyone does swoop in to save them all at some point, it shouldn’t be the deciding factor in Sidney’s choice to free himself and his choice to be with Charlotte.
Charlotte being courted by another man in a serious way which helps her realize the depth of her own love for Sidney and that she can’t be content settling for anyone else. There’s a lot you can do with another guy trying to come in and be a contender for Charlotte’s heart, a jealous Sidney being one of those things. I want to see Charlotte put on a brave face and try to find happiness elsewhere only to find she ultimately can’t, because no one compares to what she had with Sidney, and that’s more obvious to her every day she’s around this other guy. Even better is if she and this other guy get engaged or close to it and Charlotte feels more pressured to not hurt this guy’s feelings but she uh… ends up hurting him anyway because sometimes you can’t help but be selfish when it comes to love. And that it doesn’t make her a terrible person.
Things that are not 100% necessary but I would enjoy very much (under the readmore):
A love interest for Georgiana! I’d be happy with Otis returning and him earning redemption in her eyes, but I admit that I’m keener on the idea of a romance for Gigi that we get to see develop from day one. I’m less invested if the couple already fell in love entirely off screen, so I’d love to see a new guy sweep her off her feet. I have a LOT of ideas for what kind of character this guy could be and where he comes from. Currently my favorite one is that they introduce one of Charlotte’s grown up brothers to fall in love with her? It’d be a pretty easy retcon for one of Char’s brothers to be a 20something, and he’s a hunk. Maybe we haven’t seen him yet because he’s been at university or abroad, and he and Char are super close and he decides to go to Sanditon with her. Or Gigi comes to Willingden and the brother is very into her and decides to follow her and Charlotte back to Sanditon or wherever under the guise of looking after his sister but mostly he wants to be around Gigi. Lots of fun ideas to be had and really I just love the notion of Gigi falling for Char’s brother and it leading to all kinds of cute awkwardness for everyone involved (including Sidney lol). (ideal actor to play this role would be Thomas Doherty! someone save him from the CW pls)
AN EPISODE TAKING PLACE AROUND A COUNTRY HOUSE PARTY. BABINGTON’S HOUSE PERHAPS? House party shenanigans are such a fun staple of historical romance and I’d love it if this was season 2’s version of the London episode, where the action shifts to a different location temporarily and it raises the tension and stakes all around. I want Babington to see how unhappy and stressed Sidney is and he and Esther decide to invite a few friends to spend the weekend with them at their estate. Babington deliberately picks a weekend when he knows Eliza is busy. Tells Sidney to get his ass over there to just chill out for a few days. Esther invites Charlotte. Neither Sidney nor Charlotte realize the other is going to be there until IT’S TOO LATE. Cue all kinds of opportunities for them to get stuck alone with each other in and around Babington’s humongous house and expansive gardens or wherever. This could even be the place they finally just give in and sleep together (Sidney’s guest room will conveniently be just down the hall from Charlotte’s of course)
Replace Stringer with a new guy to be Charlotte’s love interest and a rival to Sidney. Like… I know they probably won’t and we’re stuck with him but Stringer just didn’t do it for me at all and I already know that if they make me sit through his bumbling courtship of Charlotte next season it’s gonna be tedious. I don’t want to hear about his class woes or his dad angst or watch him try to conjure up a whole relationship with Charlotte in his head like he did in season 1 again lol. And the jealous Sidney and alternative courtship story line I want for Charlotte next season won’t be as strong as it could be if they rely on Stringer, because I’ll never believe that Sidney is truly threatened by this guy or that Charlotte could ever see it for him. Like I said, we’re 99% for sure stuck with him but ugh… what if…….
IF THEY DID BRING A NEW GUY TO ROMANCE CHARLOTTE have him be an enemy from Sidney’s past! Of all the options for such a character this to me would be the most fun. Have him be rich and attractive as well to make him even more of a threat for Sidney to sweat over. He can be a good guy at heart who sincerely likes Charlotte or he could just be showing interest in her to mess with Sidney – or a bit of both! Maybe this guy’s actually in love with Eliza and this is all a ploy to get to her! Whatever, it’s all good to me. (CAST DAVID OAKES AS THIS DUDE)
Sidney and Eliza have an honest confrontation. Like I want to see Sidney directly challenge Eliza on this idea that they can just recapture what they used to have when it must be so obvious to her by now that it’s impossible. Eliza being forced to face that Sidney will never love her again, even with time, and questioning if what she really wants is another loveless marriage. I’m into Eliza being the bitchy villainess most of the season but it’d be great too if this story ends with her giving up Sidney graciously.
SIDNEY BEING A WRECK. Especially when season 2 opens. He’s drinking and staying out all night. He’s got a beard of sadness growing in. He’s self-destructive. It gets bad enough that his friends and Tom have to say something (maybe this leads to the big blowup with Tom?). Maybe Eliza even gets desperate enough to ask Charlotte to talk to him lol. I just wanna see Sidney Not Able To Deal and trying to drown out the pain.
Sidney and Arthur becoming closer! To me it feels like Arthur and Sidney don’t know each other that well, perhaps because Arthur was a fair bit younger and was off at school while Sidney was already grown up and running off to Antigua and whatnot. Arthur really proved his quality in season 1 and it’d be lovely for them to bond, especially for Sidney to be closer to a brother who doesn’t need or expect him to look after his interests. And for Arthur to get validation and affection from his distant older brother who he cares for a lot but who hasn’t paid much attention to him in turn for a long time.
Lady Susan whisking Charlotte off to London to cheer her up and introducing her to a bunch of eligible bachelors. I’d love it if this was how the new season began, with Charlotte going to London and not expecting to see Sidney and hoping she doesn’t, but of course she does. And this can be how Charlotte meets the new rival love interest I really want lol. Gigi should be around for this too! Have the two friends reunite at a London party before they eventually return to Sanditon together.
Sidney and Charlotte skinny dipping together! Lmao but seriously! Maybe this can be a scene that happens when the drama is all over and they’re free to be together, like either when they’re engaged or even already married. Maybe it’s the last scene of them in the show, even? It’s poetic, okay!
Edward being a more substantial villain figure and Clara showing up pregnant with his kid! Lol I feel like these two could as easily not return at all next season but if they do, I wanna see Edward level up his villainhood and for Clara to return in a big way, showing you should never count her out. I’d like to see them cause problems for Esther and Babington somehow to give those two something else to grapple with while navigating their first year of marriage together.
LAST BUT NOT LEAST – a backstory twist revealing that Sidney is the illegitimate son of Georgiana’s father, and it’s the real reason why Sidney was entrusted with looking after her! This felt like such an obviously great twist to me all of season 1 and I kept waiting for it to happen. It contextualizes EVERYTHING so perfectly. It would do a lot to explain Sidney’s strained position when it comes to where he stands with the other Parkers. Why he has so little self-worth and feels like he’s gotta do dramatic things like destroy his own happiness for their sake. He’s secretly been a Fake Parker this whole time and so there’s that much more pressure to prove himself to them. It’s a big part of why he went off on Charlotte that night at the ball, when she essentially told him he’s nothing like his two brothers, something that is an inadvertently sensitive subject for him. It explains why Sidney looks nothing like his siblings lol. It could be the reason why he went to Antigua when he was looking for an escape from his Eliza depression years ago. Like he thought maybe he should go meet his real father who he just found out about from his mother, or perhaps Mr. Lambe wrote him a letter revealing the truth, etc. Sidney’s looking for an anchor and tries to connect with him, goes into business with him via the sugar trade against his better judgment, ends up largely regretting the whole experience. Unexpectedly comes away from it with a young half-sister who he is now responsible for and to whom he can’t reveal the truth of their relationship because it’s such a complicated source of shame for him. He probably hasn’t ever told Tom the truth let alone this girl who resents him immediately. He thinks it’s better to just keep Georgiana at arm’s length even though his obligation to her as both guardian and secret older brother makes him want to do better by her, even though he doesn’t really know how yet. I was dying for this to be true because I know it could lead to some deeply poignant scenes between him and Gigi once she found out. I know it’s unlikely now and they probably didn’t put as much thought into this backstory beyond some boring life debt to her father, but I still want it to come true, and there’s no reason it can’t still come to fruition I think. It’d be an amazing revelation to use towards further developing and fixing Sidney and Georgiana’s relationship. They already act like siblings, too, and a twist that reveals they were actual siblings all along would be quite cathartic. I’d really love to see how it would affect Gigi, too, who seemingly has no family left alive and has felt so isolated. MY KIDS DESERVE THIS STORY LINE BASICALLY.
#sanditon#YOUR MOVE ANDREW DAVIES#text post tag#lol we were coming up with so many ideas I figured it was time to collect them all in one place
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NCT Jeno ‘Next Door’
requested by the lovely @jaeminsoftgf ! thanks for requesting Summer and I hope it lives to your expectations!
Request your own oneshot here!
prompt numbers:
2. SWEATER PAWS AND CUDDLES. “if you don’t grab me a blanket I’m breaking up with you.” “I’m watching Barbie Nutcracker.”
16. Neighbour au in which one gets drunk on mulled wine and ends up knocking at the other’s door, drunkenly trying to seduce the other and - instead - passing out in their living room
Pairing: Jeno x Reader
Genre: Fluff/slight crack
Word count: 1.5k
MASTERLIST
So,,,,,, you come home earlier than expected for the holidays and notice that the neighbours beside you have moved out
They lived beside you ever since you were a kid and you were sad because they were an elderly couple who were so sweet
So ofc you get sad and all
BUT
The new neighbour comes rolling in and WTF
He's handsome.....like hella handsome
Meet Jeno. Second-year University student studying medicine
He comes popping to your door to introduce himself and that's when you knew
Uh oh
Fuck no,,,, heart pls skip the love at first sight ahhhhhh
So naturally, you would do what any ordinary person would do, you introduce yourself back and ask if he wants to come in to hang or something
But yet, you're not ordinary and instead slam the door in his face and run up the stairs
"Y/F/N I swear he's hella hot....and I just did a dumb thing."
Mr. Jeno on the other hand,,,, just couldn't get you off of his mind
Like he thought when you get into University, crushes are non-existent
NOPE
Moving into this new neighbourhood made him realize something, he wanted to be friends with you.
....maybe even more.
A few days into break and you're helping your parents decorate.
All I want for Christmas is blasting in your room and you couldn't help but belt out to the song and bust out your "best" dance moves
When I put it in quotation marks I mean like just fist-pumping many times into the air and doing the dab or something
You don't even notice but Jeno is just staring at you like "wtf are you doing woman?" but at the same time, he's enjoying it because he's never seen you like this before
Like come on you barely leave the house anyways
And like once the song finishes you look at your window and SEE THAT THE CURTAINS WERE DRAWN AND YOU REALIZE THAT JENO SAW THE WHOLE THING AND HE STARTED TO CLAP AND LAUGH (even though you couldn't hear it)
You scream and try to close the curtains but Jeno puts up a piece of paper
"you were AMAZING."
You tilt your head and then reach to grab some papers and markers and craft a response of your own
"BRO I AM SO SORRY YOU HAD TO SEE THAT JSJSJSS"
More scribbling, more showing paper.
"LMAO IT'S FINE I GENUINELY ENJOYED IT."
Then you realize that you both are like recreating that one Taylor Swift music video by writing messages and showing each other INSTEAD OF JUST OPENING THE DAMN WINDOW AND TALKING
But its okay because you both get closer for some reason
Even though your hand hurts
And as you scribble down another response, Jeno beats you to it.
"WANNA COME TO THE NIGHT MARKET WITH ME?"
That my friends is how you went on a "date" to the night market
^^ I say date like that because you both don't know it's a date....but it kinda is
Food everywhere, some snow falling, a huge Christmas tree in the center
You both manage to do some Christmas shopping and regret not bringing a bigger bag.
"Jeno help I'm dying."
"okay um....wait,,,, what's your name?"
Smooth Jeno smooth.
But like how else was he supposed to get your name?
"it's Y/N. Now help me."
By the end of the night, your stomachs were filled, and your minds were filled with more ideas of what to do together.
NOT TO MENTION SOME PICTURES THAT YOU SECRETLY TOOK OF HIM
AND LIKE DAMNNNNN HIS SIDE PROFILE SEXY
You both finally got each other's numbers
Contact names:
Jennifer/Jen NOOOOO LMAO IMAGINE JENNIFER IM CRYING
Y/N/The LOML/DabDab Y/N
Getting closer to Christmas and you both have late night convos and send each other memes
It's like WOOJIN God had sent you a sign like "bitch hello this is the boy for you now take him."
Conversations would be like:
Jen NOOOOOO: Y/N, Y/N, FOR FRICK SAKES Y/N
You: OI YOU ASPARAGUS WHAT DO YOU WANT I'M TRYNA SLEEP
Jen NOOOOOO: WHO U CALLING AN ASPARAGUS?! THAT VEGETABLE IS A STICK AND DO I LOOK LIKE A MF STICK!?!
You: UM......
Jen NOOOOOO: ANYWAYS wanna make snow angles?
Jen NOOOOOO: Angles*
Jen NOOOOOO: Angles*
Jen NOOOOOO: A N G L E S*
Jen NOOOOOO: OHMYGOD ANGLES*
Jen NOOOOOO: SJSJSJSJ NVM
Now we getting to the good tea oof
So it's December 23rd, two days before Christmas
You decide to stay at home cuddled up in a blanket having a movie marathon
And then the doorbell rings and there's knocking
You pause the movie, keep the blanket on like a cape and then open the door
The cold air hits your face before you could see who was there
·It's none other than Jeno
"Um hi?"
"Y/N! MY LOVE! THE LOVE OF MY LIFE! HOW I MISSED YOU!" he funnily walks in and spins around in your living room.
At first,,,, you don't understand...like why is Jeno at your house at 11 pm at night?
Then your phone dings like 10 times
Jen NOOOOOO: IS THIS A Y/N?
You: UM WHO ARE YOU AND WHY DO YOU HAVE JENO'S PHONE?!
Jen NOOOOOO: I'M ONE OF HIS FRIENDS YOU DUMB DUMB AND IM HERE TO WARN YOU THAT JENO JUST LEFT HIS HOUSE TO COME TO YOURS....I THINK HE WANTS TO TRY AND KISS YOU OR CONFESS TO YOU IDK
You: WHO TF U CALLIN DUMB DUMB AND WHY DID YOU LET HIM OUT OF THE HOUSE?
Jen NOOOOO: let's just say he got too drunk and elbowed Haechan in the face while he was restraining him
You couldn't even finish answering when Jeno back hugged you, his breath tingling the back of your neck
You stiffened at the sudden contact and you felt butterflies in your stomach
Oh no
OH NO
"Y/N....let's cuddleeeeee"
Jeno drags you to the couch and awkwardly tries to cuddle you which resulted in him giving up and just standing back up.
"Y/N look at meeeee."
Dammit he's a pouty baby.
He squishes his cheeks and tries to wink and does so many things at once like damn boy calm down.
"Y/N,,, are you a Christmas light? Because you light up my world.
"Y/N,,,, you're the gingerbread to my house."
Jeno stumbles walking closer to you "Hey Y/N,,,, you're sexy, come-" and instead passes out on the couch awkwardly.
You didn't know what to do. But Jeno's snoring made you snap out of your daze and took a photo.
You: WHOEVER HAS JENO'S PHONE PICK HIM UP LMAO HE DIED
Jen NOOOOO: HAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA......nah
You: WTF
So that's how for the rest of the night you got stuck with a passed out Jeno and cringing at what he kept saying.
There's no way he was into you? Right?
HELL NAH YOU ARE SO WRONG
December 24th, the next day.
Jeno groans and somehow has the hugest hangover.....and realizes he's not in his house.
He turns his head way too fast to see you coming to him with water, some pills and breakfast.
It's like five seconds and the food is already gone...like sir slow down
Jeno feels much better and it's an awkward silence
"um...I'm gonna head out-" "Um...why did you come here yesterday so out of the blue?"
Cue Jeno blushing and stuttering and trying to figure out what to say.
"I uh.....well my friends and I were playing truth or dare and if we didn't want to answer the question we had to drink some wine. Let's just say I didn't answer any questions and I guess my um...heart led me here?"
Awkward silence.
"Oh...wow um I'm flattered? I mean I just didn't expect it....but I also didn't mind it you know?"
So that's how you both just indirectly confessed to each other.
You two didn't waste time putting the labels of boyfriend and girlfriend. Him grabbing a few clothes from next door because he said he didn't wanna be alone on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.
"And what better way than to spend it with my lovely girlfriend?"
"Lee Jeno if you don't get me a blanket from upstairs I'm breaking up with you."
So what did he do? HE BROUGHT A BLANKET FROM HIS HOUSE LMAOOOO
Also some of his hoodies because of your late-night call confessions.
You: "I want a boyfriend."
Jeno: "excuse me am I not enough for you?"
You: "Jeno." *laughing* "you know what I mean...like I want a real boyfriend. One that I can cuddle all day with and fully call mine...NOT TO MENTION THE FREE CLOTHES LIKE HELL YEAH I WANT THEM FREE HOODIES FROM THE BOY."
When Jeno throws the hoodie and blanket at you, you're confused because you never owned this type of blanket...UNTIL YOU REALIZED THAT THIS IS HIS BLANKET THAT HE SLEEPS WITH.
Yeah you both literally, just call, text and facetime even though you are just one door away from each other.
But who has time to walk LMAo
Okay we getting off track so like back to the present day
So you put on Jeno's hoodie and damn does it smell good.
He notices that you have sweater paws and he just goes all soft and wants cuddles.
"Oh yeah, what are you watching?" he asks as you press the play button.
"I'm watching Barbie Nutcracker."
For the rest of Christmas Eve you both cuddle under the blanket while watching Christmas themed movies.
And damn you think this might be the best Christmas ever.
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ha, that's funny cause you're in a witch costume - witch!haechan
nct dream halloween special: main menu | mark | renjun | jeno | haechan | jaemin | chenle | jisung
a/n: i was gonna write more in haechan’s POV but i didn’t want this to be too long since it’s already 3k (i say this all the time but pls ignore typos bc i’m a blind bitch)
genre: fluff + humor
word count: 3.3k
"I wonder if the ice cream shop is open this late."
The frills of your red and black pirate costume casually sway from the winds of the late October night. You're lucky the costume set came with striped tights to keep your legs protected and warm from the biting cold weather. It would be a lot colder if it weren't for the group of three energetic friends walking beside you. Thanks walking heat bags.
"Probably closed by now, it's Halloween, Y/N," Renjun responds, pushing his glasses up. The breeze picks up once again, it blows dramatically on his black wizard's robe and blue scarf.
"That sucks, everything's closed." Jeno kicks at the loose gravel on the asphalt road, his Batman mask covering most of his vision. "What do we do now?"
"How about we play a little game I like to call, Truth or Dare?" Jaemin pops up from behind, swinging his arms around Renjun and you. The ninja sword sticking out of his back knocks into the back of your head, in which you return a playful smack on Jaemin's side.
"You dumbass, everyone calls it Truth or Dare," Renjun asserts, throwing Jaemin's limp arm off of his shoulders.
"Well, how about it, then?"
The four of you agree since almost all of the houses around are stripped of candy and ready for bed. You guys trick-or-treated for a while but only got the smallest amount of candy since apparently you guys are 'too old for Halloween.' Abandoning the traditional Halloween custom, you four walk around town, finding anything to do to pass the time. Now it is almost 10:30 PM and you are still out and about in town. Somehow, your parents are okay with this.
You rock, paper, and scissors to pick who goes first, resulting in the loss of Jeno. He chooses truth once Jaemin asks the main question.
"Where is the strangest place you have peed?"
"Jaemin, what the fuck?"
The rest of the group laughs as Jeno scowls at the younger, "I don't fucking know."
"Nope, you gotta say it," Jaemin pokes Jeno's nose with a sly smirk. Jeno looks at you and Renjun for help but the both of you shrug in response. It's truth or dare, you gotta do what you gotta do.
Jeno grumbles before taking a minute to recall, "I think it was in a bush while I was camping last summer."
"Wait, I know this story. You have to tell the rest!" Renjun urges the already embarrassed Jeno. Jaemin and you stare with big puppy eyes, waiting for Jeno to continue the story.
"Huh... Long story short, I peed in a bush where a family of skunks was living and they sprayed me... while I was in my most vulnerable position," Jeno explains, defeated.
You choke back a snicker but the other two has already let out their heaviest laugh. Through your stifled laughter, you tease the latter, "wait, Jeno... The skunks sprayed your- dick?"
Without saying anything, Jeno replies with a slight nod, the tips of his cheeks burnt as red as Jaemin's ninja costume.
"Jeno sprayed the skunks- and they sprayed back!" Jaemin nearly has tears in his eyes, latching onto Renjun's shoulder for stability as the shorter hunches over to stop his stomach from hurting. You take refuge by a pole of a street light, gripping it with all of your might and trying not to topple over in laughter.
"Just continue with the damn game. Renjun, truth or dare."
The game continues with more embarrassing truths, since no one is brave enough to choose a dare. Your turn comes up next, high on sugar and laughter, you decide to be the first to choose a dare.
Jaemin's eyes widen in excitement as Renjun looks around the premise, coming up with a dare. "Y/N, I dare you to enter that store and buy something."
Your line of sight follows Renjun's finger, leading to a small, dark store. It stands alone in the middle of two large shopping plazas across the street. The windows, bordered with intricate lacey designs, are tinted black so that you can't see the inside. The aura the shop exudes causes a shiver to run down your backside. You wouldn't have been able to tell if it's open or closed if it isn't for the light-up sign that reads, "Mystik Hex."
"Guys...I don't think it's even opened," you lie with a nervous chuckle.
Jeno slaps your back, pushing you across the abandoned road, "You got this!"
"Don't be a pussy, Y/N!" you hear Jaemin yell as your hands land on the door handle, which is a smooth purple orb. The glass door is tinted black just like the windows, a deep purple curtain decorated on the outside. It's tied up at both ends revealing the name of the shop again, in a fancy but eerie font. Before opening the shop, you take one more glance back at your friends. In case I die in here, at least I know who to haunt.
With your eyes shut, you slowly swing open the door. You don't expect that the first thing to hit you is the warmness of the shop, compared to the harsh fall weather. After the warmness comes the obscure fragrance of the shop, lemons and roses.
You open your eyes, one then the other, to take in your surroundings. As dark as the outer appearance seems, the inside is much more welcoming. The walls are painted a dark beige and lined along them are shelves stacked with boxes and jars labeled the strangest things. In the middle of the shop sits a glass display case, revealing an arrangement of jewelry and ornaments. Hanging from the ceiling is a variety of dreamcatchers, of all sizes, designs, and colors. And in the middle of the ceiling hangs a large candle-lit chandelier. Speakers hidden somewhere around the store plays soothing 80's jazz music.
"Can you close the door, it's cold?" A voice sounds from the back of the shop. You close your mouth, not knowing it fell wide as soon as your eyes opened. You step into the shop, letting the door close behind you with a tinkle of the welcoming bell.
"May I help you with something?" the same voice calls. You slowly make your way around the glass display, eyes wandering all over the store as there is a lot to take in.
Finally, you arrive at the back counter, meeting the sight of a witch (well, someone dressed as a witch), holding a magazine in her hands with a lollipop stick hanging from her lips. The tilt of the hat restricts you from getting a good look at her face and the magazine in her hands.
"Um, what's the- cheapest thing in here?" you hesitate, not knowing if the employee is listening. The latter lowers the magazine, eyeing you up and down as she switches the lollipop to the other side of her mouth.
Finally, the employee tilts her hat back to reveal...a male.
༄
[Earlier that day]
"Haechan!"
"Haechan!"
"Hae-!"
"What? What? What do you want?" a boy appears from the back room, pushing the beaded curtains to the side of the entryway. His hands are stained with a dark blue color.
"Remember, you're gonna be running this shop today by yourself. Open up at 12 PM and please remember to close at 12 PM. We don't want a repeat of what happened last time...," Yuta, the owner of the witch shop, lectures the younger. Small bottles of dried up leaves and colorful liquids magically enter into his messenger bag with a wave of his hands, surrounded by a haze of purple.
"By the way, Happy Halloween. I left your costume by the cash register. You better wear it or I'm gonna fire you."
Haechan rolls his eyes away from the entrance and towards the stool behind the counter. A plastic bag sits on the chair, with a picture of a female's witch costume on the front of the bag.
"Oh, for fuck's sake." Haechan picks up the bag, turning it around to see if Yuta is actually being serious.
He is.
On the back of the plastic bag is a sticky note with Yuta's scribbled handwriting on it, "I got security cameras in here."
Haehcan makes direct eye contact with a security camera to the right of the counter, pulling a middle finger out for Yuta to see later. The yellow sticky note floats above his flat palm before it burns into nothingness.
"Dressing up like a stereotypical witch is so embarrassing when you're an actual witch," Haechan thinks to himself. "But I know Yuta will give me shit for months if I don't put this on."
Entering the back room, Haechan slips into the purple and black dress, not even surprised that it fits perfectly (and that it matches the aesthetics of the shop). He ties the cheap corset around his waist and plops the bent hat on top of his head. Then, exits out of the room, back to the camera.
"Jokes on you, shithead. No one comes into this shop anyway."
༄
A male? In a female's witch costume? I mean it is 2018, and fuck gender roles.
"What did you say?" the boy squints his black-lined eyes at you. Your eyes travel down to his name tag, Haechan.
Even his name is just as intimidating as his appearance is. His dark brown eyes are smudged with black eyeliner with a touch of red shadowing. His lips are coated with a deep red tint and a sparkly gloss over them. His ears are lined with silver piercings, he even has a piercing on the right nostril of his nose. His hair is dyed a honey brown with highlights of pinks, blues, and greens. Loosely holding onto the magazine, the boy's fingers bears many intricate rings, but the uncanniest thing about them is that he has complex markings on the back side of his hand.
"Um- What's the cheapest thing in here?" you repeat with a gulp.
Haechan pulls out the lollipop with a pop noise and points it at you, "what is this, some kind of prank? Because I'm not in the mood."
"Well, actually kind of. It's a dare from my friends."
"Your friends dared you to come in here- and buy the cheapest thing?"
"Basically."
Haechan returns to his magazine, which now you can see clearly it's for magical spells, and points to the far corner of the shop, "Those rocks are $5."
You look at the small cauldron of differently shaped rocks and colored crystals, which are actually pretty cool and seem to glow in an unusual way. You dig around in the cauldron before selecting a violet-colored crystal.
"I'll have this one," you announce as you place the small gem on the table.
The latter glances at the crystal placed on the counter, "Ah an amethyst. A remedial stone."
You tilt your head in curiosity, not knowing that rocks can have meanings behind it. Haechan takes this as a sign to continue.
"The gemstone amethyst is helpful in purifying the mind and relieving it of negative thoughts. This includes the negativity of stress and anxiety, which is why many people meditate with amethyst so as to rid themselves of that darkness," Haechan explains, the magazine now forgotten on the counter as he continues to expand on the significance of the gem.
You lean in, interested to learn what other aspects the amethyst holds. As the boy talks, you feel drawn in as if compelled to keep listening to him. The way the magical words leave his tongue makes the meaning of the stone more interesting. It seems like Haechan really enjoys learning about these magical elements as his eyes ignite throughout the explanation. The more you stare, the more Haechan intrigues you. There's something about him, the burning fire and shimmering stars in his eyes, both calm and stormy.
You can't help but let out a soft, "Wow..."
Haechan chuckles at your awed state, picking up the stone. Somehow it glows even brighter in his hands. "You know, I can put this into an accessory for you."
"Oh, thank you but I only have $7 with me," you avert your eyes, feeling a slight blush form on your cheeks.
"It's alright, it's on the house. The stone, too."
"Wait no, at least let me pay for that."
But Haechan has already disappeared behind the beaded curtains into the back room. You pull out the $7 and place it between the pages of where Haechan left off in his Magazine. You feel bad if you didn't pay for it and the dare is to buy something in this shop.
A few minutes pass by as you grow bored of just standing there, waiting for Haechan to return. So you roam around the shop some more, studying the different jars, candles, potions, and crates. They all hold specific items or ingredients, an explanation plastered on a note next to them.
Couple more minutes fly by but no sight of Haechan.
You make your way back to the counter, looking through the curtains. Bright explosions of purple and white lights puff from behind a slightly opened door. Out of curiosity, you peak through the crack.
What you see causes you to let out a gasp, knocking the door open.
Haechan stands by a large black cauldron, with purple and white smoke rising from the lavender-colored liquid. Hanging above the cauldron is a lever, lowering the gemstone into the mystery liquid.
Surrounding Haechan is a cloud of purple fumes. The markings you noticed earlier on his hands glow within his skin. He looks too concentrated in the cauldron, with his eyes closed, to notice you standing by the opened door. Though, you don't know if you should leave quietly or call to him. Either way, you can't do anything since your body isn't responding, leaving you frozen before him.
The fumes of deep purple whirl around, picking up speed before it comes to a full stop. The purple glow from the liquid dissipates, leaving the room dim since its only light source is a small ceiling light. Haechan's hands return to their normal state as he picks up the amethyst necklace, back facing you.
You still haven't made a noise or movement since barging into the room, hoping whatever magic is happening here can make you disappear from the shop forever. However, no magic is able to help the situation as Haechan turns on his feet with a smile and the necklace in his hand. But as soon as he meets eyes with you, he jumps back in panic, dropping the necklace. Yet, it stays floating in the air before returning to the palm of Haechan's left hand. You don't think you've even blinked since before this incident with how wide your eyes are right now. Neither of you dares to speak as you both don't know what to say.
The silence soon breaks with Haechan's distraught voice, "How long h-have you been standing there?"
"Uh, I saw the purple cloud thingy," you answer coarsely, though you know that isn't the best answer in this circumstance. "What was that? What are you?"
"I'm nothing. A human. Just a human. Yes." The way Haechan answers exposes his true nature.
"What are you?" you repeat with furrowed eyebrows, confused and slightly frightened. Is this how I die? I knew I would die the moment I followed up with the dare. Those pesky boys are so going to get a big haunting.
Haechan sighs, "I'm a witch."
"Ha, that's funny cause you're in a witch costume," you sarcastically respond, "No seriously, what are you?"
"Seriously, I'm a witch."
Haechan holds up his right hand, the black markings turning into a lustrous white as a swirl of purple smoke transform into a flame above his palm.
You stumble back into the door, not knowing how to react.
"Don't worry, I won't hurt you," the latter assures as the flame disperses into thin air.
Another silence flies by as you're still too stunned to function. A thousand thoughts squirming around in your head, trying to come up with some explanation.
Haechan moves forward to your frozen state, holding out the amethyst, "Here."
Your arm finally responds back and hesitantly raises to grasp it from his palm. You expect his palm to be burning hot from the flame but it's a normal bodily temperature. Though, you don't know what would be more unnerving. "Oh, thanks... for the necklace."
"Actually, it's not a necklace, it's an amulet."
You cock an eyebrow at the boy, "What's the difference?"
"Well, necklaces are just decoration, they hold no special abilities," Haechan takes back the amulet and connects it around your neck. "Amulets, on the other hand, are objects that are carried by or worn on a person that holds a specific energy or spell."
With how close Haechan is, you can feel his breath fan over your face as he explains the difference. Your voice drops to a whisper, "Then, what does this amulet hold?"
"Protective powers, as well as healing ones."
Your eyes meet his in awe but confusion, "protecting me from what?"
"Anything that's dangerous, Y/N."
"How do you know my name?" you break the contact between you two.
The ends of Haechan's mouth curves upwards, "I'm also psychic."
"Wait, really?" you bolt up in interest, eyes wide again.
"Nope," Haehcan pops the p, "I just heard you and your friends yelling outside of my shop earlier."
Your shoulders slump down, disappointed. Haechan leads you out of the back room, closing the door behind him. Before you can thank Haechan and speak a farewell, a group of yells enters the shop.
"What have you done with Y/N?"
"Where is she?"
"We're gonna kill you."
You realize it's Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin barging into the store in their lame protective stances. Renjun holds his plastic wand out just as Jaemin holds his foam swords, Jeno just has his fists in front of him as if he really is Batman.
"Guys relax, I'm fine." You hurry them away from Haechan before they can embarrass you anymore.
"Who's the girl?" Jaemin points at Haechan, a smirk plastered on his face, sending a flirty wink to the latter.
"I think that's a dude, man," Jeno punches Jaemin's shoulder, stifling a snort.
You flash an apologetic smile at Haechan, harshly whispering for the guys to wait for you outside.
"Wait, that's a guy? Holy shit man, why are you in a girl's costu-." Jaemin gets interrupted by an electric zap sent from Haechan's finger to his butt. The younger jumps up from his stance, rubbing the back of his butt with an 'ow.'
"Let's get out of here, Y/N hurry before he kills us all."
Renjun pulls along your arm as you wave goodbye to Haechan. I'll come back, you whisper in your head, hoping Haechan has some type of magical power to read it.
༄
"Is this...a jar of eyeballs?" you place the glass jar on the table with your tongue sticking out. "Gross."
"It's frog eye but yes," Haechan hums, too focused on the potion he's mixing up in the back room. You're seated by a small table juxtaposed with the caldron, handing Haechan the ingredients and herbs he needs from the shelves of mysterious items. It hasn't been long since you've started working in the witch shop.
"What do you even need that for?" you question, wiping your hands on the black apron tied around your waist.
"All sorts of things," Haechan briefly answers, mumbling for the Burdock Arctium Minus.
You hand him a jar of the purple spiky plants, "and what are you making now?"
"A love potion."
#halloween special#nct#nct dream#nct 127#nct u#kpop#nct 2018#haechan#nct haechan#lee donghyuck#nct donghyuck#haechan scenarios#nct haechan scenarios#nct scenarios#nct dream scenarios#nct 127 scenarios#nct u scenarios#kpop scenarios#nct fluff#kpop fluff#nct dream fluff#donghyuck#halloween#witch!haechan#kpop imagines#nct imagines#kpop fics#nct fics#haechan imagines#haechan fic
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idk who saw my initial post earlier today. i really reached my limit of dealing with the childish tantrums and shenanigans of some people in the community. one thing is them being immature and blocking me over nothing. another is the constant shading and lies on their blog.
imagine going on and on posting on your blog things shading me and deejay for being “toxic” and then twisting things around to make yourself look like a victim and make an alternative reality when you are literally mad over NOTHING. Perhaps re-evaluate your damn actions. And quit trying to be a victim of nothing for the sake of getting pity and looking cool with the shading. since you:
lash out about people not prioritizing you over their significant others
want to control who your friends are friends with
feel entitled to people’s attention and being their priority otherwise they’re “toxic”
throw a tantrum over two of your then friends sharing a blog you willingly left
continuously contacted me and then left if i was in a relationship because “you mention your gf too much” (not an actual quote. luckily for you, i have lost that conversation)
sent a slightly explicit photo to me without my consent (which i wasn’t too bothered by but that IS something you shouldn’t just do. yet you wanna call me toxic and shade me cause i joined a blog)
only ever come around to try to finally win me over and get me interested in you and any time i would mention having a gf or it seemed like i’m not looking for anything serious when you flirt or get sexual, you drop me. what a good healthy friendship.
stay pissed after 5 years for feeling second to my then girlfriend. which, is just logical and nobody with common sense would be so pissed after so many years about that. of course my girlfriend came first over an online friend i had known for so little time
stay passive aggressive about that now ex still and apparently that’s a reason to drop me still and to still hold against me after half a decade
even after i apologized because, yeah, i would sometimes ignore you and that wasn’t cool, neither was my teasing when you’d take it seriously (which i never knew because you never told me only like last month when you again, dropped me for this bs that happened half a decade ago), you still lash out at me and label me toxic for no real reason
dropped me again because i joined a blog with deejay and that made me “unloyal” despite the fact i have been friends with her for as long as i have known you. but what a betrayal... i replaced you in a blog you decided to leave.
blocked me only to check on my instagram stories while also shading me and deejay constantly and still not apologizing for the overreaction but instead making it seem like we are the bad guys here
continuously sent us anons about yourself to the point of extreme annoyance (also it was too obvious pls) instead of being an adult and talking to us, as i tried to do when you first got mad
contacted me because of my romantic life and the anons’ assumption that deejay and i might be dating. because again, i am the toxic one, yet you only contact me to try and be sexual or try to get me to be into you. in this case, because you were again, bothered enough about my romantic life to come back only to get details on it. guess that might have hit a nerve. i’’m sorry but that just shows that maybe i had a point pushing you aside years ago because you can’t be a real friend. you have to hold on to all this nonsense of my romantic life as if it affects you and seem to only be interested in me in that context so how am i toxic for not paying too much attention to someone like that?
got mad when i wouldn’t give you an answer and blocked me yet again only to go and twist shit around pretending i was the one to contact you and that i was pissed cause you cut me out???? where? is this the version you tell your gf and friends?
stopped talking to me and blocked me after acting like a child and throwing a temper tantrum over a damn BLOG, then contacted me asking about my romantic life as if nothing had happened, this after shading me multiple times and acting like you’re in the right in whatever alternative reality your brain lives in. then lied about it on your blog yet again, and continue to do so apparently.
YIKES
we have been respectful enough not to call you out on rpslayed so don’t go around running your damn mouth with lies and made up nonsense to make yourself look pitiful to your friends. and don’t go around accusing people of being toxic when you are the one with clear issues who can’t act her damn age. if i wanted to deal with children, i would either babysit or have kids of my own. grow up and talk to us like the adult you should be at this age or shut your mouth, move on and stop spreading lies.
hope your friends know you’re full of shit and whatever version of events you have been sharing, is filled with lies.
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Front of a Building - Chapter 2: Shiver, but Shiver With a Friend
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Hello again! I finished chapter 2, so now I guess you can expect a chapter 2.
Chapter title is from Dodie's Party Tattoos. It’s cool. She’s cool.
Once again, thank you to @pleaseletthisjimbetaken @ironwoman359 @splatoon-jim @nammies @incorrect-ego-quotes @forgottenbehindtheinternet @nikkyshows @slim-jims and @jiiiimmmm-with-dyed-hair for being my inspiration.
It was surprisingly difficult to make this, which I guess I owe to the fact of more than the three characters that were in chapter 1 last time. This one gives off a bit more foreshadowing, and soon I’ll start dropping hints like crazy, though I have been dropping some already. Have fun reading! Should I make a tag list? I feel like I should make a tag list. Ask me if you want to be on my tag list. Tag list.
Word count: 1230
The kitchen on the second floor smelled like cookies, filling the room from the chestnut cabinets, to the granite countertops, and to the dark and scarred kitchen table, on its literal last legs.
The Egos rarely had a meal altogether, as each Ego had rather scattered schedules during the day. Some Egos (namely, Dark) rarely ever came down from their rooms, except when on business. This rather annoyed some of the more irritable of the egos, especially since Dark hadn't shown his face in weeks.
“...the focus switches for a moment to the Host, who is narrating under his breath, barely audible over the noise of the Chef’s cooking—”
Currently, the Host and Chef Iplier were the only ones in the kitchen for breakfast. There were three that were often the first ones up—the Host found little time to sleep, too restless to fully doze—the Doctor often had morning paperwork to do, and he considered any Doctor work to be malpractice without his first cup of coffee—the Chef found himself too overexcited in the early mornings to sleep long into the day, and anyway, there were cakes to be made.
Speaking of the Doctor, he trudged through the side door of the kitchen, the door swinging half-heartedly after him. Chef Iplier looked up from his enthusiastic cooking style to watch his brother, who pulled down his coffee mug with the label “I'M NEVER WRONG” printed on it. Dr. Iplier had bags under his eyes and looked exceedingly irritable, labcoat wrinkled and slightly smelly.
“...once again, the focus is switched to the Host, who has noticed Dr. Iplier’s arrival and narrates over his action of pouring his coffee two inches too far to the left and onto the granite kitchen counter—”
Dr. Iplier looked down blearily at the stream of lukewarm coffee splattering against the counter.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake—” the Doctor grumbled, readjusting his hand position so the liquid poured into the mug instead of onto the counter.
His brother, ever helpful, abandoned his mixing bowls to rush over and clean up the dripping liquid before it could do any more damage.
“...Oh. Thanks, Chef,” Dr. Iplier remarked.
“Don't mention it,” replied Chef Iplier, quickly throwing away the sopping wet paper towels.
“...the Host begins to inquire of Dr. Iplier’s ragged looking appearance as the Doctor inter—”
“Ragged? You're one to talk; you really need to get those bleeding eyes checked out.”
The Chef looked up from mixing again. “That was rude,” he pointed out unnecessarily.
Dr. Iplier sighed, conceding an apology before slumping into a seat at the counter. “I know, I'm sorry Host. I'm really worked up over this patient; if he doesn't do what he's supposed to, he could end up at the hospital for the last time. Bad news for sure.”
The Chef transferred the contents of one bowl into the other, glancing up at his brother. “There are some things you just can't help, Doc—”
There was a loud slam at the door, which made all but the Host jump. A few seconds later, another slam. Then, muffled footsteps and words—
“Delayed; rerouting…”
“Google, what the hell are you—”
The main door swung open, revealing Wilford Warfstache, in his signature pale yellow and pink, holding the door open for Google. Apparently completing his rerouting, Google turned precisely ninety degrees and made his way to the side door.
“God damn it, Google.”
Warfstache let himself into the kitchen and sat down at the wooden table, adding to the number of unhappy customers. Dr. Iplier spoke to Google, who had finally “Arrived” through the side door, asking, “Are you on default again? I know you have a bug where it can occasionally switch back in the mornings.”
“Th-th-there is an eight six p-point five five five five five five one ch-chance of pl-plausib-bility.”
Dr. Iplier grimaced. “Here, let me get that for you—” he strode to Google and flipped off a switch labeled “MAIN”. Google shut down, hanging his head and eyes dimming. After a moment of tweaking the system, Dr. Iplier switched Google on again.
“Th-thank you. That is much better,” Google acknowledged and took a seat next to Warfstache.
“Eggs?” asked the Chef, a plate of steaming scrambled eggs with drizzled hot sauce slid in front of Warfstache. Dr. Iplier looked around at the interaction, eyebrows knitted together.
“Weren't you just making pie?”
“It was cake,” the Chef clarified. Not getting a solid answer, the Doctor turned to Wilford.
“How did he do that?”
Wilford gestured wildly, wiggling his fingers; “Mmmmmagic.”
Dr. Iplier looked at the man less than fondly.
“Your brain is more scrambled than those eggs.”
Before Wilford could come up with a nasty retort, the Host intervened, raising his voice from his usual murmur.
“...the Host interrupts the conversation before it can escalate further, and instead asks Wilford about the whereabouts of Darkiplier—the Host admits he knows Dark had a difficult night—”
Both the Chef, the Doctor, and Google hurriedly looked around at Wilford and searched his face for any sign of danger.
“Yes, well…it’s rude to talk about people behind their back,” supplied the ego, “because they might turn around and stab you in your back, and then it all would be one bloody mess.”
“Is he coming down at all today?” questioned the Doctor with an edge of resentment.
Wilford paused, and he was suddenly dark eyes and darker words. Despite his colorfulness and his boisterous personality, he could still be terrifying without trying.
“It’s not your concern.”
While no one knew what the cause of this sudden change was, all four egos backed down and resumed their tasks—the Chef, back to baking; the Doctor, back to coffee-stained paperwork; Google, back to searching for updates; the Host, back to narrating under his breath. Their imagination ran away with them, creating the worst possible scenarios. A few attempts at conversation were made, but they teetered off quickly and ultimately led nowhere. Chef Iplier was cleaning up breakfast when they heard the creak of footsteps on the stairs. Five heads turned towards the door simultaneously, and through the door came—
“Dark!” Wilford exclaimed.
“...he moves smoothly through the oak door, dressed in his best suit. Dark stops and straightens his tie before speaking—”
“Good morning, everyone.”
None of them had expected Dark to come down today, and certainly not in such a pristine condition. Google zoomed in on Dark and saw not even a speck of dust on his shoulders.
Dark began to walk to the adjacent room, attention on getting outside.
“Wait!” Wilford got up from the table and nearly ran to catch up with him, the other egos simply watching on. He followed Dark from the kitchen to the front room, through the front door, and outside the manor, leaving the first floor behind them.
“Wait!” Wilford said again, placing himself in front of the entity. “I want to come.”
Dark stared at him incredulously.
How had he not seen this coming?
“Wilford, please, it’s a quick trip.”
“Perfect!” he countered. “Then I won’t be gone long.”
“Trust me, Wilford, it’s not important.”
“Then why are you wearing your best suit?”
He found he had no answer for this. Dark kept his face impassive, weighing his options.
“Fine. You can come along.”
Wilford smiled, falling into step with Dark.
“Where are we going, anyway?”
Dark smiled softly. “On a date.”
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Seriously though, hit me up on that tag list, ‘cause things are about to get real.
#front of a building#darkiplier#wilford warfstache#dr. iplier#chef iplier#googliplier#the host#chapter 2#shiver but shiver with a friend#party tattoos#dodie#url#details details#pay attention#my fics
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a little under the weather
Phil might be getting sick, but there's no way he's going to let it get in his way when he's been trying so hard to be a better team player at the studio. After all, he's finally found some pride in what he does. (Or, Phil is reminded that some days hard work and a good attitude aren't all you need, after all.) (post-loop, light on actual romance and heavy on comfort and companionship.)
chapter 5 (also on my ao3)
(warnings: vomiting)
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The sun in his eyes and the beginnings of a headache wake him up to find Rita already awake and making breakfast in the kitchen.
“What time is it?” he asks groggily, rubbing his eyes. “Sun’s up.”
“Little before seven,” she says.
“You’re late for work,” he mumbles.
“I’m going in at eight,” she replies. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“Huh?” he asks, blinking at her.
“You were sick last night,” she says. “You should have come to get me.”
“Oh,” he says. “Didn’t want to bother you.”
She leans around the corner and throws a balled-up napkin at his head, which bounces off his cheek and lands in the garbage. “I told you to wake me up if you needed anything,” she reminds him sharply.
“Nice shot,” he says dryly. “Anyways, I didn’t need anything. What were you gonna do about it?”
“Well, at least I could have sat up with you,” she says. “Or made you more comfortable.”
“That’s not…” he begins.
She scowls, holding up the spatula she’s using like a threat, and he shuts up. “Pretty sure comfort and companionship still fall under the label ofanything, ” she says. “You think you can try to eat something?”
“Ugh,” he groans, throwing his arm over his face. “I guess I can try. ”
“What do you want?” she asks.
“Well, part of me really wants the eggs you’re making,” he says. “Fortunately, I know that part of me is stupid. ”
“You don’t want my eggs anyways,” she says. “You think the way I make them is gross, remember?”
“Oh, yeah,” he agrees. “Do me a favor and don’t eat them out here, huh?”
“Yeah,” she says dryly, “since even when you’re not sick you act like just seeing them might make you puke.” She looks around the kitchen, putting her hands on her hips. “I can make you toast,” she offers. “Or you can have more applesauce, or, um…”
“Toast is fine,” he says. “Hey, get me a Gatorade too, will you?”
She grins at him. “Wow,” she says, “look who’s behaving himself this morning.”
He manages a wry smile in return. “Well, it’s the only thing that’ll get you off my case, isn’t it?”
“Mm-hm,” she agrees, laughing, and goes to put some bread in the toaster for him.
“Hey, speaking of,” he adds, “you’re gonna send me my stuff when you get to the station, right?”
She hums thoughtfully, getting out a plate for her food. “If you promise you won’t strain yourself,” she says.
“I promise,” he agrees quickly, which earns him a suspicious sideways look.
“And you’ll rest, and drink fluids,” she adds.
“Come on,” he says. “I already asked you to get me a Gatorade. I’ll drink fluids.”
“And take something for the fever,” she says. “Your temperature’s still up, you need to keep an eye on it.”
“Rita, if it will get you to send me my things, I will text you photo evidence of my exact temperature every hour,” he says, exasperated.
“Okay,” she agrees, “if you’ll also take some ibuprofen before I leave.”
“Fine,” he says. “Bring it over here.”
She grabs the bottle as well as his toast and a Gatorade. “Here,” she says, and shakes out two tablets.
He takes them but only puts one in his mouth, leaning over to get a drink to wash it down. “I’ll take the other one in a little bit if I’m feeling okay,” he promises, and her glare softens.
“Take care of yourself today,” she says, and leans down to kiss his temple. “For me. Promise me you will.”
“I promise,” he says, and catches her hand. “Thanks,” he adds, after a moment, “for being here.”
She smiles and squeezes his fingers. “I better head out,” she says. “Hang in there, Phil.”
“Take my umbrella,” he calls as she goes to put on her jacket. “It’s gonna rain tonight.”
“Oh, is it?” she says lightly. “You’ll have to keep me updated after you take a look at the charts.”
“Are you doubting me?” he asks, mock-offended. “I’ll have you know -“
“I’m sure your predictions are plenty accurate,” she says, pulling on her coat. “You’ve only been really wrong, like, once this year, right?”
“Oh, shut up,” he grumbles. “Get out of here, don’t be late on my account!”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” she says lightly, and waves as she steps out the door.
He sets up his laptop on the coffee table and sits down on the floor, the quilt wrapped around his shoulders and the blanket over his legs, leaning back against the couch. It’s not as comfortable as being on the couch, but it’s probably better than keeping his computer on his lap when he might start throwing up again any time. He pulls the trash can over next to him so he won’t have to scramble for it if - or, well, probably when - he does get sick.
Rita hasn’t actually emailed him yet, so he decides he ought to put on a movie until she does. After a few minutes of deliberation, he settles on Star Wars and gets up to put the first one in. He’d rather watch A New Hope, but he’s going to be working, and that’s an experience he wants to savor, seeing as he hasn’t seen it since before Punxsutawney, two months and God only knows how many days ago. He’ll save the best ones for after his work day is over.
He leans back against the couch and sips his Gatorade while he watches the opening without actually reading any of it, his vision half in focus except for when he glances at the computer to see if Rita’s actually sent him his work yet. His head is feeling cloudy again, but the ibuprofen should help when it kicks in, at least to ease the dull ache in his temples and cool the flush he can feel across his face.
His phone chirps next to him, and he frowns, blinking stupidly at it for a moment before he manages to actually pick it up. It’s Rita, which makes him glad at first until he gets his eyes to focus enough to read the message.
Lovely Rita: pretty sure you promised me a picture of the thermometer??
He groans and rolls his eyes, stumbling to his feet to get it from the bathroom. He hadn’t figured she would actually make him follow through on that.
Hold on, he texts her, shoving it under his tongue and slouching back to the living room to sit back down.
Phil: So are you going to send me my work stuff after this or
Lovely Rita: pics first
He takes one of himself making a face at her and sends it back.
Lovely Rita: very funny phil.
The thermometer beeps and he grimaces as he checks it and sees a reading of 102. That’s worse than he thought. He takes a picture of it for Rita and tosses it on the table.
Phil: Happy now?
Lovely Rita: oh :(
Lovely Rita: are you sure you’re up for working?
Phil: Yeah I’m fine
Phil: I only took the ibuprofen like half an hour ago it’ll go down more in a bit
Phil: Anyways if I don’t have something else to do aside from watch the phantom fucking menace I’m gonna lose my goddamn mind
Lovely Rita: okay if you say so
Lovely Rita: give me your password so I can get everything for you
Lovely Rita: and tell me what you need me to send you I don’t know what you’re looking for
He texts her the password and a list of the files he needs and where to find them, and then leans back against the couch, dropping his phone on the floor. He really should take the other ibuprofen, he thinks, just to help get his temperature down. He’ll do it when she actually sends him the email, he decides, and goes back to staring blankly at Liam Neeson and Ewan McGregor fighting droids.
He holds his focus for a while, but his headache, if anything, gets worse as he works, and after an hour and a half he’s starting to feel queasy again as well. He groans and pushes his laptop away, leaning back against the cushions and closing his eyes. If he rests for a few minutes he ought to feel better.
He hears the unpleasant sound his stomach makes, and grits his teeth, willing himself to keep his breakfast down. He can taste acid in the back of his mouth and swallows hard. He’d been fine ten minutes ago, for God’s sake.
His stomach turns over again and he covers his mouth with the back of one hand. He burps a little and the chalky, bitter taste of the painkiller hits his tongue, making him gag; he grabs the trash can and pulls it into his lap before he retches and vomits, coughing up a watery stream of undissolved medicine and acid and sports drink.
“Oh, Lord,” he mutters, screwing his eyes shut and trying to catch his breath. He heaves again and ducks his head as another mouthful of liquid forces its way back up his throat. His eyes and nose are burning, and he’s getting chills again, tremors wracking his body in between another few rounds of throwing up all the Gatorade he’s had to drink this morning.
Maybe he should take a break, he thinks, hunching his shoulders as he leans over the garbage, waiting for his stomach to settle. It makes him feel a little guilty, wanting to give up so soon, but his head is so cloudy he’s not sure he can read his computer screen, let alone actually analyze anything he’s looking at. And really, he just wants to lay down. Maybe it’ll help with the nausea, even just a little.
He groans and leans over to close his laptop, setting the trash can aside. The sound of liquid sloshing in the liner makes him gag again, but he just coughs and dry heaves a little before it passes. Wrapping the quilt and blanket around himself, he crawls back onto the couch and curls up on his side, closing his eyes. When the room stops spinning he’ll feel better.
He’s half asleep when Rita texts him again, and groans as he pushes himself up on his elbows to lean over and grab his phone from the table.
Lovely Rita: hey how are you doing?
Lovely Rita: update pls
Phil: Well I could be fucking better.
Lovely Rita: :/
Phil: Sorry, that wasn’t nice
Phil: I took the other ibuprofen but it made me sick
Lovely Rita: oh no hon :(
Phil: So I’m laying down since I puked like eight times in a row
Phil: Also, throwing up painkillers is the worst.
Lovely Rita: hang in there, ok? ily
She signs her message with a heart, which makes him smile in spite of himself. Thanks, he sends back, and closes his eyes again.
He feels a little better in the afternoon, enough to eat some applesauce and saltine crackers and take another ibuprofen at least, and he manages another few hours of work without giving himself a headache or having to stop and spend ten minutes bent over the trash can spewing his guts out again. Around two he takes a break to rest his eyes and text Rita again.
Phil: Hey
Phil: Guess who had lunch and didn't even bring it up an hour later
Lovely Rita: yay!
Lovely Rita: proud of you babe
Phil: You're making fun of me aren't you
Lovely Rita: no! i am proud
Lovely Rita: it sounds like you're doing a little better! :)
Phil: Yeah, a little bit, I think.
He gets back to work, and only stops when he gets an email a little after three marked as urgent. He quickly pulls it up, frowning. It’s from Rita, sent with the subject line “Important Communication ATTN: Phil Connors,” and he hurries to open it.
The first thing in it is a link to the station’s Facebook page. He squints, looking past it to the body of the message.
Wishing Mr Connors a quick recovery from Cranberry! Love, Tina, Joe, Matt, and Marcus.
Sending healing thoughts for our favorite weatherman! - the Andersons.
Stay warm and get lots of rest so you can be back in good health, Phil!
Hope there’s better weather soon for Phil!
Dear Phil, my daughter Penny (6) wants you to know she hopes your mom will make you some soup to help you feel better and that you have lots of good books to read while you’re in bed. Hang in there! - Mandy C
He doesn’t realize he’s tearing up until his vision starts to blur, and blinks quickly, shaking his head as he grabs his phone to text Rita.
Phil: This isn’t really urgent you know
Lovely Rita: i dont know what you’re talking about
Phil: Yes you do.
Lovely Rita: correspondence from viewers is very important
Phil: I would have seen it when I come back in tomorrow.
Phil: Anyways I know you’re trying to guilt me into resting more so cut that out.
Lovely Rita: well I can’t help but notice you saw your urgent email pretty fast
Lovely Rita: since you were sitting at your computer probably giving yourself a headache trying to do math
Phil: It’s more physics than it is math
Lovely Rita: not the point, phil :/
Lovely Rita: get some rest and watch star wars we’ve got your workload handled
Lovely Rita: and the more you strain yourself the longer it’ll take to get better
He scowls at his phone and sets it aside, looking back at the email. The list of messages goes on, more notices from Facebook and emails sent to his work address and mentions on Twitter, all wishing him well. There have to be at least a hundred of them - Rita must have been putting them together all day to send him this.
Despite himself, he smiles as he reads them, drying his eyes and cheeks with the corner of the quilt when he catches himself starting to cry a little. Even if he knows she only did it to make him feel bad for not resting, he’s a little grateful to Rita for passing on the messages. It’s a nice reminder that even near strangers seem to like him even better now.
Maybe, he decides, it wouldn’t be so bad to send in what he's done so far and take it easy for the rest of the day.
#groundhog day#groundhog day the musical#Phil Connors#Rita Hanson#phil x rita#willwrites#this chapter is so long rip#emetophobia warning
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One More
Characters: Tom Holland - Harrison Osterfield - Y/N
Request: “drunk tom pls” - anon
Notes: a little bit of smut, not much. This may seem similar to other imagines i’ve written but this theme was next on the list! You guys loved the interactive one and so i decided to add one song i thought would set the mood for the whole imagine but there is one part I’d suggest to listen to at a specific time in the imagine, but that’s totally up to you…
-Basic Instinct / The Acid (2:30)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You walk, well, more like you dance your way through your living room and through the crowd of people who have gathered to jump together to the music. A blue cup is in your right hand while your left is punching the air along with everyone else.
“Hey, Y/n! I think someone’s at the door!” Someone shouts at you.
“I got it!” You shout to no one in particular.
You set your cup down at a nearby table and make your way to the door. You don’t even look through peephole and just open the door. You already know who it is, though.
“Harrison! Jacob! You guys made it!” You immediately reach out to hug both of them before stepping aside to let them in.
“Beautiful as ever, Y/N,” Jacob compliments you as he passes by and you wave it off even though it made you grin wide.
“What about me?” An all too familiar voice asks.
You smile as if it’s on instinct and turn to face Tom. “I’m so happy you’re here!”
He chuckles before he wraps his arms around you. He squeezes you tightly which makes you groan. “I’d forgotten how tiny you are.”
You push him away softly before nudging his shoulder, “Am not. We’re basically the same height!”
He follows you inside, closing the door behind him. He joins the boys with you leading them into your home.
Crowds of people are mingling about in the hallways, living room, and outside. Everyone has a drink in your hand and at least one body part following along to the music that’s blasting with the surround sound system you had integrated into your new home.
You managed to save enough money in a span of two years; working your ass off, taking in overtime hours, and basically doing nothing but focusing on work. Throwing a party and inviting some of your closest friends to celebrate with you felt like the right way to start this new independent life.
There isn’t any furniture that were in danger of being damaged except for an old couch your parents lent to you for the time being, so if it were to get destroyed, it will be excuse enough to replace it. The only other furniture is in your bedroom, safe and sound.
“There are drinks in the fridge!” You shouted at the trinity, pointing towards the closed door that led to your kitchen. “Snacks are outside and bathroom is down this hallway to your right!”
“This place is nice! I’m proud of you, Y/n!” Harrison says, giving you a side hug and squeezing your shoulder. You laugh, not even hiding your own pride.
“Where’s your drink?” Tom asks you.
“Um,” you look around and then shrug, “I have no idea. Guess I need one too.”
After all four of you get your drinks, you head outside and sit on plastic chairs your neighbors were so nice to let you borrow for the night. You’re excited to hear all about their crazy year with the release of their new movie. You go on and on about how amazing the movie is, how you’ve seen it four times already, and even point out the part Harrison makes a cameo in. They go on and on about pranks they did on each other and even about Tom’s fans making fun of him saying ‘croissant’.
“Wait, what?” You interrupt. “What did you say?”
“Croissant!” Tom replies.
“Quackson?? The fuck is a quackson? The son of a duck?” You tease.
“For fuck’s sake!” Tom throws his hands in the air, Harrison and Jacob laughing their asses off.
You continue the chatter until you notice that almost everyone’s drinks are empty. You offer to bring some more and leave them to fetch some more beers. When you come back, you hand everyone their desired bottle before taking a big gulp from your own.
“Y/n! Come here!” Someone in the yard shouts for you.
“I’ll be back,” you tell the guys and make your way over to your friend. She’s standing with a group of people, mostly guys and she pulls at your arm almost the instant you’re close enough. She starts to go on and on about what the guys standing around her do. She introduces them to you briefly but you’re a bit tipsy to even memorize their names so you label them instead; red, hairy, freckles, glasses, and necktie. You continue to drink and smile and nod to whatever they’re saying, just trying to be friendly.
(Listen now.)During the vague conversation, you hear a familiar song start to play from inside the house. The music is loud enough to carry outside to where you’re standing and soon enough, your body begins to move along with the beat.
You ignore the people around you and just let the booze in your system and your happiness overtake you. You turn in a circle, smiling like an idiot, and your eyes land on him.
Tom is staring straight at you. There’s no emotion in his gaze, he just simply lifts his bottle to his lips. He tilts it back but his eyes are glued to yours and it’s the most intriguing thing you’ve ever seen.
You feel heat rise up your spine and it’s only then that you realize your body is still moving. You’ve been dancing and staring at Tom the whole time. It almost feels too intimate but you don’t stop.
He swallows his drink and it’s like the world goes into slow motion. You see his adam’s apple move up and down his throat and it makes you bite your lip. Your eyes lift up to look once more into his and you send him a grin. The corner of his lips lift a bit but you still notice it.
He’s enjoying this, and you’re enjoying giving him a show. Everyone is outside at this point, dancing together or alone. You’re with them, still moving but now with a purpose. You want to keep his eyes glued to you. You want to give him something to stare at.
He narrows his eyes as if he had just read your mind. It makes you giggle.
He lifts his bottle and shakes it a bit, telling you it’s empty. Okay, so? He can go get another one?
His eyebrows shoot up and then you understand. “Oh, right.” You say to no one in particular. “Kitchen.”
You push through the sweaty bodies of intoxicated people and make your way inside the house and into the kitchen. You don’t even check to see if he’s following you because his stare burns hot behind your back.
You open the door and walk inside. The cool air seems like heaven as you pick up your semi-damp hair and fan your neck with your hand.
“Let me help you with that,” you hear him say and before you can even react, his hands replace yours, holding your hair. You wait for him to fan your neck as well but instead, a mixture of warm and cold air meets your skin. Except, it’s not air… it’s his breath.
He’s blowing onto your neck and it pulls onto your core. Your mouth pops open and a small, “Ohhh,” escapes your lips. Your eyes close as you focus on both the cooling of your skin and the sensual act that’s happening right now.
“Cool enough?” He speaks.
You can barely make out a “Mhmm,” before he lets your hair fall back down. You stay still and he’s the one who steps around you until you’re face to face.
A smirk plays at his lips. The fucker knows what he’s doing.
“A little payback for what you did out there,” he replies, again, reading your mind.
You roll your eyes and stand up straight. “I wasn’t doing anything. I was just dancing,” you shrug it off and walk off to the fridge.
You hear him chuckle behind you. You open the fridge and take out a bottle, although this won’t exactly clench your thirst.
“Remember last time we saw each other?”
Your back straightens immediately and you turn to face him. He’s looking down at his hands, his small tendrils of hair covering his forehead. “That’s what your little show reminded me of.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply, your throat suddenly going dryer than it already is.
He looks up at you. “Last year. You and me. Naked. All night.”
You try to swallow but can’t. You don’t want him to know that you’ve replayed that night in your mind over and over every night since then.
“I remember how after we… well, you know… you were so happy. The happiest I’d ever seen you. You literally got up, put on my shirt and played the exact same song you were dancing to earlier, and danced with pure joy.”
Oh, shit. You hadn’t even noticed.
“I have seen you naked. But nothing ever seemed so attractive than that moment.”
“Okay, I remember,” you confess.
He smiles and slowly starts to make his way to you. You take a step back but the counter stops you. “I want to repeat that moment again....”
You’re breathless and he hasn’t even reached you yet. The way his eyes roam over your face, down your neck, your chest and lower down almost has you hyperventilating.
The last time you guys were together, you didn’t stay in contact until tonight. He left you wanting so much more and it wasn’t a heartbreak, but more like a longing. If you agreed to what he was proposing, chances are that he will leave you with that feeling once more.
But then again, you’ve been daydreaming about this moment for over a year.
He’s standing inches from you now. He places his hands on the counter on either side of you, completely entrapping you. His breath washes over your face and it’s like a drug. You want more. You’ll always want more.
“Let me…” he begins but you’re already nodding.
His head leans down and his lips press onto your cheek and electricity runs from that point all the way down to your toes. He pulls back to look at your reaction and he seems satisfied. Yet, he doesn’t make any movement to kiss you again.
“One more,” you breathe out.
He smirks and tilts his head but this time his mouth is on yours. Your hands are fisting around his shirt, pulling him closer. The kiss starts out slow and sensual, both of you taking your time, tasting each other and savoring what you had missed.
Then his hands find your waist and he pulls you up until you’re sitting on the counter. He parts your legs and positions himself in between them, all the while never breaking the kiss- which has now turned into a hungry one. Your tongues thrash with one another and your hands are everywhere; his hair, on his neck, pulling at his shirt.
You hear shouting near the door and you immediately push him away but not far. You face the door, panting and when you can no longer hear anything, you look down at him. His lips are red and slightly swollen, his hair a sexy mess.
You both laugh softly and his hands wrap around your lower back. “One more?” He asks you, his eyes glinting joy mixed with lust.
You nod and lean down to kiss him again but he pulls back, shaking his head. “I meant… one more night?”
You start to think but you’ve always been thinking. Always overthinking. Who knows when you’ll get a chance like this again?
“One more night,” you confirm.
You expect him to leap with joy but instead, his finger reach for your chin and he tilts your head back. You gasp as the contact of his lips on the skin of your neck sends chill down your spine. You hold onto him tightly and cradle the back of his head.
He then lifts you up from the counter, your legs instantly wrapping around his waist. He begins to walk towards the door, manages to open it while still holding you up and walks out into the hallway. Without you having to tell him, he walks towards your bedroom.
“One more,” he orders and now you know what he’s asking.
You lean down and kiss him again and again, showing him how much you want him. You hear the door open and he steps inside.
“One more?” You ask when you pull back.
“One more,” he whispers before you shut the door and the world outside with it.
#tomholland#tom holland#tomimagine#tom imagine#tomhollandimagine#tom holland imagine#imagine#imagines#short story#one shot
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Overly analysing books and over use of problematic
I feel like at the rate fandoms are currently going, I envy those reading that aren’t jaded by the fandom’s thoughts\critiques of books. Don’t get me wrong - I love analysing my favourites scenes with my OTPS, re reading them etc - but honestly there is such thing as over analysing. (If you’re a reader who likes to go off at the slightest thing, this post will piss u off lmao)
I think the word ‘problematic’ should stop being thrown around so carelessly at the slightest thing because it detracts from the true meaning of it - reserve it for real issues pls, fandoms are too fucking much for me right now.
As a female hijabi, Pakistani woman - believe me I’m the last person to glorify racism\sexism (just to name a couple obv I can’t speak for ableism\homophobia etc) but I really feel like the word ‘problematic’ is being inaccurately used, its got to the point I just roll my eyes and scroll down every post I see meticulously critiquing every minute detail that could potentially be ‘toxic’ and thus rendering the author and their books 'problematic.’
You guys did this with cultural appropriation too, when that became a buzzfeed term that everyone and her mother was policing people for, its got to the point I don’t even give a shit anymore - most of y'all just want an excuse to attack people under the guise of 'defending your culture due to your blatant identity crisis as a second generation.
Yes, I am an advocate for diversity and stronger representation in books. Having said this, its fairly obvious to me when an author throws in a poc just for the sake of adding 'diversity’ to the book, without accurately portraying cultures - which to me is worse than omitting them. Lmao news flash people, most authors write what they know, and are more scared of misrepresenting and offending an entire culture (and thus being automatically labelled 'problematic’) hence why many tend to stick to white characters as the safe option. if you want to politicise this and act like the author is somehow a ‘problematic’ racist then… throwing out the word racism at every minor topic is what makes people roll their eyes at us when we call it out in genuinely serious topics. In 2017, the term ‘race card’ has people rolling their eyes for a reason, IT IS BEING MISUSED AND THIS NEEDS TO STOP. I’ve firsthand experienced racism/xenophobia from a young age, so believe me I’m the last person to try and undermine calling out racism irl - what I’m addressing here is literature specifically.
I take English literature for fuck sake, I’m the last person who would normally criticise over analysis of a text - but I go on tumblr to share my feelings with like minded people, a community I used to love. The amount of vitriol dividing this platform right now is frankly disgusting and honestly, I’m just so done. The ‘well informed’ readers who like to enforce their opinions as fact, in addition to undermining/patronising those who don’t agree/ are somehow invalid as readers. Let people read books and enjoy them. Save politicisation for times when it is truly relevant, all you’re doing is perpetuating the archetype of the ‘offended sjw’ which makes people roll their eyes in the face of true discrimination. Frankly, you’re contributing to the problem with your attempts to constantly be politically correct in every fucking aspect of life.
So yeah - Soz for the rant lol - unpopular opinion. i seriously envy those who just read a book without having to encounter the amount of toxic behaviour I have seen recently.
P.S - this isn’t made with the intention to undermine the opinion of those triggered by certain scenes (eg rape\abuse etc) You are completely valid to be triggered by those scenes/tropes and I honestly do not mean to imply or offend this. This is particularly addressing the focus on diversity within fandoms lol
#rant#tumblr used to be a respite for me#from the stress of college and family circumstances#everyone just attacks each other now#so kinda done lol#acowar#fandoms#problematic#sjm#unpopular opinion
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