#(( my heart longs for the sappy lovers and happy family ))

[firstwcman]

fr tho, seeing that was so relieving. they're still married, they're not divorced. they are still together. these two are my comfort ship so that means everything lol

[shenachigans]

LITTLE ONES | Ningguang

PAIRING: Amab!Ningguang x Fem!Reader

CW: smut, angst, fluff, unintentional baby-making (or breeding) at first, unprotected sex, readers is ill but illness is unspecified only that pregnancy is a risk, a lot of pet names ig, bottom female afab reader

SUMMARY: Ningguang has been wanting children of her own, but she must hold her desires back during a night of pleasure, or does she?

A/N: I cringed and almost got sappy writing the fluff part but whatever, I barely do fluff for a reason. Also, this is my first post of the year :> I wrote and posted this past my bedtime, excuse my mistakes…

WORDS: 1,928

(FANFIC IS UNDER THE CUT!)

There are rumors that Lady Ningguang had a soft spot for children. You can confirm that. The children of Liyue Harbor adore her just as she adores them. She had a motherly side, giving the kids irresistible sweets to see them smile. Of course, Ningguang gains something in return, but being around the little ones relieves her from her duties and the harsh business world. 

Ningguang isn’t the Tianquan of Liyue nor a ruthless businesswoman. She was merely a friendly elder sister who mingled with the common folk, and the children were the only ones who could give her that satisfaction without calculating moves — unless creating schemes to get the most sweets from her counted.

You can see joy in your lover’s eyes when she sees the children light up whenever they see her and receive delicacies. You remember the kids almost fighting each other for Ningguang’s head pats and praises for doing well in their missions (informing her about the latest news in the Harbor). 

There was a time when one of the children accidentally called her ‘mom’ instead of ‘big sister.’ Ningguang wasn’t fazed and instead responded as if she were their mother. It was such a wholesome sight that it brought you to your countless dreams of having her own flesh and blood where you lived as a happy family. 

The conversation of having children has yet to be brought up, but Ningguang’s eyes say more than her lips can. Even if she mastered the art of putting on a perfect facade, you can see through her. There is a visible glimmer of longing whenever she’s with the kids; it makes your chest ache.

Ningguang wants to have children with you. She does. She wants little versions of yourselves running around the floating palace and experiencing what it’s like to become a mother. But she holds back. She stops herself from painting your womb white, risking getting you pregnant. She doesn’t want you to carry her child, even if a baby bump on your tummy would make her heart swell from joy. 

You always blame yourself for preventing your lover from getting what she desires, for your weak disposition makes it a risk of surviving childbirth. You were already struggling with your illness. It was a gamble she didn’t want to take. But she doesn’t know you would gladly give your life to your little one because you have been wanting children with her as well.

It was a night of pleasure. Ningguang’s hips thrust into yours, her girthy cock stimulating your slick walls. Manicured nails created light crescents on your thighs as she gripped them for leverage, slowly losing herself in the song of your moans and whimpers harmonizing with the squelching created where you two are connected. 

You were ravishing in her hooded eyes, clawing onto the sheets below you, and tears rolling down your cheeks as pleasure coursed through your veins. Only Ningguang can see you like this. But her eyes subconsciously dart to your belly, imagining something she mustn’t. She longs to touch your empty womb — feel your skin on the pads of her fingers — but it will only indicate her want, and she doesn’t wish to make you solemn in the midst of pleasure. Unfortunately for her, you knew everything a long, long time ago.

“I want to embrace you,” you say, albeit interrupted by grunts from the ecstasy between your legs and your lover’s pleasured disposition. Ningguang slowed her ruts, complying with your request and letting go of your plush thighs, opting to grip the soiled bed sheets as you wrapped your arms around her neck, her free hand holding your waist. 

Your lover was a sight to see. Tinted cheeks and hooded eyes — a woman lost in pleasure — which juxtaposed her usual professional disposition. Ragged breaths and relentless pounding made her seem desperate to bring you to your peak as if she were a servant pleasuring her master — and she was because everything she did was for you, all for you, even if it meant denying herself something she wanted all her life.

Ningguang could feel herself at the edge of the newfound angle as she resumed her previous pace, ensuring you were comfortable. Her body tensed and shivered at how you moaned in her ear, bringing her senses into overdrive. But she must contain herself. There have been many times when her reasonings almost slipped between her fingers, but she always triumphed in gaining control.

Your bodies hugged every part of each other’s skin, her chest against yours, erect nipples rubbing against each other. She held you close, kissing your forehead, down along your jaw, until they settled on leaving bruises on the crook of your neck as a form of gratitude for taking her so well. 

Nails clawed against Ningguang’s back as you bucked your hips to meet her thrusts, back arching, and your throat now sore from your sinful noises. You were beginning to writhe under her, subconsciously wrapping your legs around her waist, your walls fluttering against her cock.

“I’m close,” you moan, your body trembling as if preparing for your upcoming orgasm. Fingers clutched into Ningguang’s hair, pulling her into a passionate kiss where your tongues languidly danced against each other. Her lips swallowed your sinful noises until a string of saliva stretched between you two as your lips reluctantly parted to heave for fresh air.

“Me too, my love,” she huffs, hips stuttering, her tip on the verge of spilling her load. Her open-mouthed kisses littered your neck and shoulders once more. A sultry, airy chuckle left her lips as she maintained her pace, guiding you to your climax. She dared not change her pace and edge you, not tonight. 

The deep, moderate thrusts of her girth drove you insane as the veins of her cock pulsated against your walls. You felt so full. Ningguang's praises and constant rutting brought you to your peak with a high-pitched moan of her name. Her back would be displayed like a canvas the next morning from her dress, showing your love hold with scratches and brushed crescents.

Her free hand slithered from the soiled sheets to your sore clit, rubbing it with her thumb to elongate your orgasm. A flash of white clouded your vision as a white ring coated the base of her cock as you came, further lubricating your walls. You became a huffing mess as you recovered from your high, but Ningguang has yet to cum, and you’re overstimulated. 

Ningguang became rather impatient now, she could feel her release edge on the tip of her cock. But she has to cum on your stomach. She tapped your thigh once — an indication for you to let go so she could pull out — but you refused. Another gentle tap soon turned into a slightly painful grip as she tried to unwrap your legs forcefully.

“Release your legs, now, dear…” she whines, grunting and fingers twitching from being denied of her high as she slows her thrusts. “I can’t cum like this,” she says, but her heart says otherwise. The tone of her voice shows how much she’s holding back. 

��Yes, you can.” You counter with a smile, arms unwrapping around her neck to cup her face, and soothingly rub her cheeks with your thumbs, feeling her porcelain skin under the pads of your fingers. A hearty, tired chuckle left your lips when she leaned into your touch. “Why don’t you indulge yourself just once, hm? Doing it once doesn’t guarantee anything, Ningguang. Please?”

Ningguang’s thrusts slowly halted as she felt a change in the lustful atmosphere. She presses your foreheads together and closes her eyes. “I can’t take that risk, we both know that…” she sighed and suddenly you see a pair of scarlet eyes pleading at you. 

“But you want to — to take that risk — and there’s nothing wrong with that, my love.” You smiled but it didn’t reach your eyes as Ningguang avoided your gaze, eyes now looking elsewhere. “Hey, look at me,” you urge and gently tilt her face toward you. “It pains me to see you like this, dearest. I…I shouldn’t have brought it up, especially right now. I’m sorry.” 

Guilt washed her features as you spoke. Was her longing so obvious? It didn’t mean you needed to give her a child. But your face expressed genuine want, no fear or hesitation in your eyes. However, you were frail, and she didn’t want to risk losing you and the baby. Ningguang can live without children of her own but she can’t live without you. 

If only she had an option to have both.

“No, don’t I apologize, my love. If anything, I should apologize for making you feel like you needed to give me children to make me happy,” Ningguang starts, giving you a sad smile, eyes downcast as she still ignores yours. “You make me the happiest person in the world, and having a family is only a bonus. I can’t force you to make any sacrifices. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You weren’t forcing me to do anything, love, and I appreciate that. I want to start a family with you, dearest. I’ve always had. You would make the best mother in the world,” you hum, pecking her lips before resting your forehead against hers. “Whatever happens, happens in the future and we will tackle them together, alright?” 

“How did I deserve you?” Ningguang says with a smile, her heart leaping from your words, still, her stomach churned from the unknown future. It was a bittersweet feeling. Scarlet eyes observed your tired face. You see hesitance in them, but they expressed want. 

“You deserve everything in the world, my love.”

Her smile widens and gently kisses you before holding your hips for leverage as she starts to pump her hips in and out slowly. “Push me away if you change your mind,” Ningguang starts, pushing the damp, stray hair from your face. “I don't wish to force you.”

“I won’t. I want all of you.” 

“Mama! Mommy is being mean to me!” a child whined, pouting as tears of frustration were apparent in their scarlet eyes as they ran toward the bedroom. “She doesn’t wanna share Mama with me!”

Ningguang follows them, hiding an amused smirk with her hand. It was fun to tease them, even more now that they’re in the ‘possessive of mommy’ stage.

“Now, now, little one, your Mama might be asleep,” Ningguang said, but it was too late. The door slid open with so much force that you woke up. She grimaced, giving you an apologetic glance.

“Teasing them again?” You say groggily but flash a small smile as you lie on the bed’s headrest. The little one immediately clinging to your side with a smirk. “This teasing is all too frequent…” You pretend to ponder before your eyes light up. “Are you perhaps envious, dear?”

“I am not envious,” Ningguang said almost too quickly, but she narrowed her eyes at the cheeky child before her, clearly showing off by scrunching their nose and sticking their tongue out. 

The audacity for them to mock her.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” you chuckle before patting the spot beside you on the bed and cradling your belly. “Why don’t you two come here? I could use some cuddles.”

The child beams at your words. Nothing can be greater than cuddles. “Mommy, can I be in the middle?” They say, looking at Ningguang for permission.

Ningguang’s heart swells and she smiles. 

“Of course, my little dove.”

© shenachigans — do not plagiarise, translate, repost, or copy.

[tobifuyu]

Snowflakes In My Stomach When We’re Kissin’

RAN HAITANI x f!reader

cw: nsfw, mdni, smut, fwb to lovers, oral (male reciving), tiny bit of angsty themes with happy ending, sappy fic, ran being a simp as always to feed my “he’s a self-centered bitch until he finds the one” agenda.

wc: 3.2k

a/n: surprise… i’m back with a christmas present! this is the first fic in a three pieces installment, which can all be read as standalone but come from the same universe and evolve in the span of three different christmases. in case you didn’t know, in japan christmas is a holiday in which people spend time with their partners because they reserve new year’s for family (not only i’ve seen it in a whole lot of shoujo anime but i’ve asked my japanese coworkers to confirm eheh). it’s also customary to eat cake! ;)

“Though you said you just wanted to get a coffee.”

The only thing peeking from the red scarf is the tip of his nose, flushed with the same color of the fabric that’s wrapped around his neck. You imagine his lips curved in a smirk under it.

When he came to pick you up earlier this morning, you thought he made a bold choice pairing the red garment with the unusual color of his hair. Up until then, you always believed red and purple would clash.

But Ran made it work, somehow. Like most things in his life, he did it with a confidence that made you question your world and how you view it even if for just a second.

“Well, that we did,” He shakes his hand, his long fingers easily supporting the weight of the full cup. You can see the steam rise from it and wonder if he’s not drinking it because he’s scared to burn his tongue or because he’s not ready to go home yet.

The two of you are currently walking around Shiba Park, not too far from Roppongi Hills. The peak of Tokyo Tower is hidden in plain sight behind the trees, stripped naked by the season, and adorned by strings of fairy lights.

In daylight they look clear, void of color, and empty, they come alive at night. Just like we both do, thinks Ran.

Ran does like winter. He believes winter poses more opportunities to forgo going out and staying in bed. He loves to gaze out of his apartment’s window and spot rain pit patting against the glass, watching the water droplets leave streaks behind as he lets himself get lulled back to sleep.

He also likes that he can layer more clothes, the more the merrier, he says, it’s easier to style it. You would agree, because he looks particularly elegant with his long black coat, left unbuttoned to glimpse at the nice sweater under it. The sight of his tightly clad body alone ignites a fire inside of you, one that is meek but insistent, and will soon start to burn you inside out.

What Ran doesn’t like it’s the cold. The wind is not fair against his pale skin, it leaves it red and stinging, much like his heart when he wakes up after a night together and doesn’t find you there. He does not like the cold, the cold of the sheets around him when you’ve left hours before.

He would like to pretend he’s clueless as to why, the same way you’re staring at him now, but he knows the reason behind it.

“Are you gonna tell me why we’re wandering around without a destination in freezing weather?

“Can’t you just live a little?”

You scoff at his words, taking another sip out of your hot chocolate to bite back an insult. He’s already testing your patience, and you have very little of it left today of all days.

“We should go eat some cake, I’d love an excuse to grab a Mont Blanc for later at that bakery by your apartment. Y’know I like it there.”

Cake. You don’t like cake, and you don’t like what eating cake with him would mean today of all days.

“Why do you have to make everything so complicated, Ran?” You sigh, head shaking in disappointment.

When you decided to start this with Ran, it was because you believed the man to be on the same wavelength as you. Ran had seemed like someone who knew what he wanted, and you had been sure that was not you.

He had promised that would stay the case. Your heart could not afford to be cared for by somebody.

When you look at him this time, you don’t notice how the wind is whipping the skin of his high cheeks red because his scarf is now covering everything but the lidded eyes staring at you.

At this rate Ran might end up hating winter: you seem to get colder with the season. He doesn’t think he would pick sleeping in over you, so if he could, he would like for summer to last all year long.

He’d like for you to cling to him even when the temperature is so high you can barely breathe in your cramped room, sweat sticking to both your skin and his, like your very first night together.

Because where the holidays bring glee to most, to you they’re a reminder of times that are long gone. A childhood spent decorating the tree and wishing for the perfect Christmas gift, now turned into a life of solitude. Your fast-paced job and lonely apartment away from home don’t leave space for the frivolity of Christmas.

“Didn’t wanna leave you alone,” he speaks so clearly of his intentions you almost feel shame, “Did ya think I would’ve left you bask in your gloominess, today? ‘M not that bad of an ass.”

You don’t think Ran owns you anything. He shouldn’t be picking up the pieces of you that other people left scattered and putting them back together as if it were a kids’ puzzle.

Ran knows you don’t really have anyone, he thinks he’s much like you, and would be just as bitter if he didn’t have his brother.

“You left Rin by himself?”

You hear his muffled laughter, “‘course not. Haruchiyo’s there. Y’know how they are.”

Yes. In love, you suppose. And you wonder if Ran thinks that is what it is. And what is it between you two?

You can feel his body warmth as he gravitates closer to you, “‘M cold,” is his excuse when his now ungloved hand catches yours. He intertwines your fingers, brushing the back of your hand with his thumb, before hiding them away in his coat pocket.

Gotta warm your cold heart up, he thinks.

“Saving you from this freezing weather,” is what he says out loud.

But you know it’s because the movement brings you closer, he pulls you so you’re now shoulder to shoulder, and you’re not strong enough to keep your head from falling on his. As if you were fresh snow in the sun, you melt in his presence.

“Let’s go get cake,” your voice is but a soft whisper, running past him like the breeze through the dying leaves, the wind finally settling down.

And that’s how he ends up in your apartment. Sounds of wet skin slapping against one another fill the void as he buries himself deep inside of you.

The sweet pastries Ran bought long forgotten over your kitchen counter, as he’d much rather taste the honeyed nectar spilling from between your thighs.

He’s grabbing at them now, the hold on your flesh sure to leave marks behind as he folds your legs so that he can loop his arms under your knees, keeping you spread open for him.

Big body caging you under his warmth with his forehead pressed against yours, and open mouths a breath away from the other, sharing sounds of pleasure without ever meeting in the middle.

It had been a tantalizing dance when you first started sleeping together. Like most people in your situation, you had both concluded that it would be best if you refrained from kissing. Deeming it too intimate.

Ran had caved after the third time you ended up in his bed, lips too needy to be kept from yours. He had let out a soft plead before you met him in the middle.

From then on you made it your mission to never kiss him outside of your bedroom activities, too scared of the power his kisses held over you. He and his annoying self had taken it as a challenge, always on the edge of his seat waiting to see who’d kiss the other first.

“Oh fuck this,” Ran groans before giving in.

You catch sight of his eyelids fluttering shut, hiding that violet color that you love so much, and your lips lock in a kiss that takes your breath as much as the hips still snapping against yours.

The coarse patch of hair on his navel repeatedly brushes against your puffed-up clit, making your hips jump up to chase the friction. The man is shamelessly shallowing your moans and caressing your tongue with his, teeth closing around your bottom lip when you go to pull away.

“Ngh, you taste like cake.”

Ran had snuck a bite of one of the pieces the moment he stepped out of the bakery, and the sweet taste on his tongue was, in your opinion, way better than the real deal.

His hand grasps your chin with firmness, the tips of his fingers squeezing your cheeks and making your blushed lips pucker up.

“So you do like cake, mh?”

“No, I don-“ Ran squeezes harder, and your mouth parts. A glob of spit falls on your tongue, one that you shallow under his scrutinizing gaze.

The moan that he lets out at that reverberates through your chest as he bends so close your bodies are now completely pressed against one another, sharing body heat.

This is what sex with Ran is, a concoction of rough touches and fucking that turn soft and slow when you least expect it. He likes to tease and surprise you, stealing the prettiest sounds from your lips and making them his. Making you his.

“Y’don’t like cake, s’okay. I know you like me,” one of his hands teasingly pinches your right nipple, respective eye closing in a wink.

You like that he makes sex fun, cracking jokes as if his cock weren’t pumping inside of you. You like it, you like him, but you can’t have him know that.

“That’s not-“ he interrupts you once again, this time with the snapping of his hips. He starts fucking you like he means it. Calculated thrusts hitting against the sweet spot only he knows how to find.

Ran is on his knees now, hands firmly planted on your raised hips, guiding you back and forth over his length.

“Fuck! Ran, fuck that feels good- so good-“

Slurred words leave your panting mouth as your hands hold onto the pillow behind your head for dear life, back arched and chest exposed to the greedy eyes that are raking over your body. From your perked-up nipples, begging to be played with, to the way your cunt is stretching around his cock.

“Don’t have enough hands for the things I wanna do to you,” Nonetheless, he repositions his right one so that it’s splayed over your navel, thumb reaching down to rub tight circles on your slicked clit.

“Fuckin’ cunt squeezing me so good,” moans spill from your mouth at his words, his voice is strained but maintains that hint of icy superiority and poise that is characteristic of Ran.

The way your hole flutters around him is maddening, Ran can feel your walls clenching against his length so perfectly. He can feel everything.

As a matter of fact, so do you. No matter how dumb he fucks you, you can’t ever miss out on the sweet feeling of his bare skin caressing your wet cunt. The squelching sounds are filling the air around you, making your cheeks heat up and your head lull to the side, trying to avoid his eyes in shame.

Half face buried in the pillow, you beg for him, “Ran, please, please. I need to cum so bad.”

His thrusts slow down, thumb stilling over your clit, and you hear him hum, pensive.

“Maybe if you looked at me, pretty, I might think about letting you.”

Gathering your remaining strength, you open your eyes to the sight of his glorious body above yours.

The wetness of his skin shines under the light of the outside street lamp, peeking in from the window, full body tattoo so enchanting, you watch it move and bend over his rising chest.

With violet eyes fixed on yours, he stands tall, unreachable.

The purple strands that fall from his gelled-back hairstyle are the only giveaway that he’s not so perfect and pristine after all, but he still looks like a god in your devoted eyes.

“Ran,” you call his name so softly he tumbles from the skies right to you.

His body bends to lay over yours, weight supported by his arms at your sides. With a snap of his hips, he breaks the longing stare you’re both sharing, mushroom tip hitting the spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Oh my god, that feels so-“ “I know, baby, s’okay.” One of his hands caresses over your head, before stopping at your neck and closing around your windpipe. The pressure of his touch against your feverish skin is delicious.

Your nails are now creating indents in the flesh of his arms. You want more, you need him to break you.

Ran can’t stop thrusting, pounding, burying himself inside of you to the hilt. He’s never wanted to be this close to someone before, never needed their warmth as he does yours.

He stops you before you can reach your clit with your fingers and, wanting to be the one to take you over the edge, he uses his free hand to rub over it vehemently.

“Coming, I’m coming,” are the rushed words that fall from your lips before you hit your peak. Wanton moans are gracing Ran’s ears, making his balls strain from holding back, but he wants you to bask in the glow of your orgasm before he reaches his.

“Doin’ so well fo’ me, look at this pretty pussy. Gushing all over my cock.” He looks down as he says this, watching how good he’s splitting you open, his cock coming out of you covered with the white sheen of your arousal, then plunging back in.

Your spent body is overstimulated, twitching in his hold as if trying to run away from the pleasure.

“You’re the only one, baby.” Ran lets slip, the sight of you in your most vulnerable state makes him just as weak, “S’all yours, so take it.” And he means it, you’re the only one.

Before you, life used to be in black and white. Ran had tried everything to paint it some other color, from violence to sex, but nothing ever came close to holding you in his arms.

Color is always all around him, but Ran’s devoid of it until you touch him.

You pull him down to you at the confession, arms wrapped around his neck, chests pressed against one another, hard nipples tickling the soft skin.

The pace suddenly turns slow, and you wonder if Ran does not care about coming anymore. His focus is on you, and you’re staring back at him with just as much affection.

“Let me take care of you,” it’s what you suggest once you’ve come down from your high, fingers pressing against his shoulders to have him lay back in the sheets. Short hair sprawled over the white pillow like a halo behind his troubled head.

Both of your thighs are circling his hips, too scared to have Ran pull out, and be prevailed by that sense of emptiness and cold that comes from being away from him.

Fighting a whirlpool of emotions, you feel the need to silence your mind with his lips on yours. The clashing of your noses does nothing to stop you from kissing each other passionately.

The blame should be on Ran for making you fall for him and gifting you a brand new reason to celebrate Christmas, but you should’ve known better when he walked into your life with that snarky smirk that makes you sigh just thinking about it. You bite his lip in retaliation.

The feeling of Ran’s hands traveling over your skin and sinking with his strong grip on the flesh of your hips is what makes you separate your two halves, pussy clenching around the length that has been filling you up so perfectly. The need to make him feel just as good swells up on the inside.

“Fuck, please,” A choked whisper, falling from the pearlescent of his lips, wet with your love, blood pouring out of the bitten skin.

Purple and red do look good together, you think.

Your hands are warm, trailing up his stomach like the ink on his skin. He feels as if you’re moving too fast, scared he might blink and lose the moment, and at the same time too slow for his liking. He’s begging and he doesn’t know what he’s begging for. But you do.

Ran’s hands tighten around the bedsheets. He wants to touch everywhere you’ve been, wants to get stained in you. Like fresh paint that sticks on skin, he’s now colored in your shades.

Wet kisses are being left on the top of his shaft. Ran’s right hand finds your hair, waving his fingers between the loose strands to uncover the sight of your pretty face.

Lidded eyes are watching you glide your tongue down his hardness, caressing the bluish veins running across its sides, tasting yourself on it.

When your lips wrap around his sensitive tip you have to hold down his hips with both hands.

The peace you set is slow, taking him in your mouth inch by inch. His girth stretches your lips and he thumbs the lower one as you look up at him with tears forming at your lashline.

“Mouth feels like fucking heaven, angel.”

Ran can barely contain himself, dangling from the edge, his balls heavy with his release.

When your nose is buried in the hair at the base of his cock, you know you’ve successfully taken him whole. A huge accomplishment on your part, considering how blessed he is.

With your throat clenching around him, it doesn’t take long to feel him twitch in your mouth.

“Yeah, pretty girl, just like that. Make me cum, fuck!”

Bobbing your head at his request, you’re hasty in sucking your checks around his length, letting him come on the back of your tongue with languid moans that contain your name.

No need for him to ask, you’re one step ahead by swallowing his semen, making a show of it before leaving a wet kiss on his tip, to collect the white drop that was spilling over.

“Better than any cake.”

Booming laughter fills the space around you as you scoot closer to his tired body, laying on his naked frame and stealing all his warmth.

“I do like you.”

“I know,” Ran looks down at you, left check cutely smushed against his pecs, “Let’s spend New Year’s together.”

The faint movement of your hair brushing his skin tells him you’re agreeing, “And what about… next year?”

“Let’s spend them all together.”

You’re warm in his hold, and he figures the fairy lights might’ve come on in the park.

Ran thinks back to the rest of the untouched cake on your kitchen counter and is happy enough that the two of you have exchanged Christmas gifts in your own special way.

After all, he took away the cold, and you’ve brightened up his life.

That’s more of what you could’ve wished for.

[blueparadis]

❝ TIMELESS TWILIGHT ❞ + ARMIN ARLERT

CWs —» afab!reader with s!her pronouns,semi-linear plotline,  suggestive themes, royal au + supernatural au ( reader is a supernatural being ), strangers (to childhood friends) to lovers, slowburn, light angst, mention of corruption, violence and murder, temporary unrequited feelings, implicit smut descriptions,sappy romance and happy ending.

+. PLAYLIST—» moonlight ╾╼ somebody that I used to know ╾╼ rewrite the starts ╾╼ until i found you ╾╼ miel

PRECIS —» Armin was a chaser of eternity while she was a slave of it. One yearned for it, the other despised it until a thread of tragedy tied them together, forever.

+. NOTES —» this is for @dearbraus via @suyacho ’s gift exchange collab. hope you like this piece. I was confused between noé and armin but settled with the latter because this idea was originally thought for him.

I got this idea around april but finally, i could write this thanks to eden for that <3; also, this fic was partly inspired by the song moonlight by dhruv. I'm very much sleep deprived, so lemme sleep while y'all have a happy read. Merry Christmas (⁠＾⁠∇⁠＾⁠)⁠ﾉ

Special thanks to @orchid3a, @sailewhoremoon & @chosovixen for ß’reading this. also, you can read this in AO(III) ; browse more of my works through navigation links.

Museums, sculptures, libraries, books, songs, stories, poetries, paintings— all these had one thing in common: that is, they were eternal. They carried so many memories with them and yet were so defunct. And then, there are humans that live and die like flies. Ever since Armin was bestowed with the ability to walk he would only use it to go to the library or to sneak out through the back door of his room into the garden, or anywhere that does not remind him of the burden he has to carry till his last breath, the burden of protecting each and every person around him—  the burden of this whole kingdom that his father ruled.

He never asked for this life, the luxury, the fame, and the power that came with it. His father had told him that everything that the light touched belonged to him, but only one thought crossed his mind: for how long? Armin did not have to ask anyone to find the answer to that question. He saw it, he lived it. The fragility of his life. 

At that moment, when he was on the brink of destroying thousands of lives in one blow, hesitation overpowered his senses; the man kneeling in front of him, waiting for death to embrace him to save him from such shame, gutted him in the stomach. So annoying, Armin thought and slashed the head of the ruler of the kingdom. 

He was nineteen when he owned a new kingdom, a hefty crown adorned with the most lustrous jewels in the city, and the queen that was promised along with it. To his father’s disappointment, he denounced it, the kingdom, and the kingless queen. Oh no, that does not mean he did not enjoy the greater pleasures of life. He did, through and through, he is the crown prince, and anyone who denied his demands would be rendered lifeless, a mere memory just like stories, books, and sculptures.

He was desired by many, even males. Some people knelt to him to please him, while others were doomed to become an unpleasant distant memory. There was no in-between, no mercy came from the heart of the crown prince. He was not cruel, just a rageful young boy who desired things that seemed impossible to achieve, at least in this life. He envies lifeless things that do not have a lifespan. How utterly foolish!

Sometimes he would laugh at himself, thinking he had been born cursed, a little sick in the head, but his diary told otherwise. He kept it in the library, the journal with sapphire covers and his family emblem. It rested among those massive books that carried the history of great generations and his ancestors so that none, even Mikasa and Eren would not be aware of him, his truth, his true self. Half of him was amused by how all his writing mocked the rich legends that his father boasts at every royal dinner, while the other half, wept like a wounded creature for not being able to make his dreams come true. He is the crown prince, the prince yet all that power fell short of his dreams to achieve; to hold someone in his arms timelessly and to fall in love limitlessly.

Armin could think of only one name, y/n l/n. The girl who left him without finishing her stories. The girl who met him only during Twilight, smelt like forever, and looked like one of those decaying sculptures of Rome.

The Library, that place has always been a wonder to her, y/n. Books stacked beside one after the other embedded with lores and legends from all over the world. Most are sugar-coated, few are the resultant of figmentation and truth but none told the bitter truth. The poets lied, love is not a prince saving princess, love is a princess waiting for the prince for eternity; love is not sharing kisses under the starry night, love is being burnt by mere words. Love is not divine, rather it is the most wretched curse.

Ever since she discovered the existence of the library, she had been fond of how lies are woven so slyly that even the witness failed to separate the truth from fallacies. She had been the witness to how all the kings confiscated the castle, slaughtered the innocents, and had all the women as baits for bodily pleasure, but those rusted pages of the book told how the ferocious warriors, ‘envoys of justice’, ‘harbingers of peace’, or so they liked to call themselves; those warriors killed so many cruel kings and saved the people of the kingdom from their madness. Same lies, different names, different times.

Eternity was nothing like she imagined it would be. It was never a promise of happiness, but rather a promise of loneliness. Heck, even promises faded with time, yet this followed her like a shadow. Even love failed to fill the hollow space she had in her heart. She stopped believing in good but did no evil. Indeed, she had the power to rewrite history, but that could endanger her life, even if she was at the edge of death. But hope can be a dangerous thing for a girl who has lived through an aeon, and it shone miraculously on a full moon night.

There was a particular book that caught her eye. The spine was slim, with a plain sapphire spread and a logo embedded on one of its ends. She perfectly remembers that a few days ago the book was not there and a certain someone is a fool enough to keep it among the books that have all scarlet bindings. But she should not let that bother her so much. Besides, she is here to read; read about how her lover turned against her, exchanged her to get a few coppers and silvers a century ago yet died at her hands. It was tragic, of course: to watch your beloved betray your love and trust, but ecstasy gushed into her veins when she killed him by burying her fangs into his neck, absorbing the life out of him. 

At first, eternity was a boon, and now it is a bane. At first, killing was out of rage and now killing was the only way of survival. She took a few steps back from the family shelf of Tyburs, and stood in front of the Arlerts family shelf. For a minute, she let her fingers run through the books and halted at the sapphire one, which had the royal emblem of the kingdom. She took out the book, thinking it would not hurt to spare an hour or two, after all, she had all eternity.

It was a journal. The handwriting was neat and artsy. The front cover read, “my daily dose of dread.” What a child! She thought, but alas, she could not open the journal. She presumed that it was sealed with magic. And, just like the cascade, the emotions that she locked away when she buried her lover in a grave gushed in her body, through every vein, through each vein. She felt alive again.

The next day, y/n spent the whole day outside observing the humans in the town, gathering some intel. After two weeks, when night befell, she made her way where she wanted to be all this time, the library, the very palace where she loved to sneak in and read those great lies and laugh at the dead. She waited till she heard footsteps, to her surprise it was a boy of fifteen, the son of Duke Arlert. It has been almost a century since she had any human interaction. And now, a boy of fifteen with all the life ahead and innocence intact became alien to her. It thrilled her.

“Who are you?”, the boy asked with aimless, oceanic eyes that had the tragedy of the great Gatsby. She jolted, blinked and took a few steps forward, bowed down in front of the boy and whispered, “I’m the new cataloger, your highness.” And that day, a new friendship was born. Only the moon and the stars were the witness of it.

Unbelievable it seemed to her, for how Armin warmed up to her so quickly. Y/n used to wait for him during nighttime at one corner of the library till he would come to her. Gradually he learnt to use the loopholes in the rules of royal court just so he could hear stories from her, stories that were not written on any of the books, stories that talked about the origin of fairies and monsters. Some days Armin refused to go to his chambers just to hear such stories from her, some days he fell asleep in her lap while she was reading out stories to him. The very stories that he despised so much became engaging to him. He started to take interest in royal duties too.

Sometimes, Armin waited alone in that library but he never asked questions like, ‘Why do your eyes change color? How come I do not see you when I come during the day?’ He was kind to y/n, kinder than most people she had met, killed, or had to betray, but at the same time, those questions weighed heavy on her heart and died at the tip of her tongue whenever she came to visit Armin. As Armin grew up, her visits became less frequent. With all the agony and anger in him, Armin never bothered to ask why. Moreover, he didn't want to cease those pixelated visits from her, however fleeting they became, they belonged to him and only him.

On his twentieth birthday, y/n went to the main court to join the celebration, mostly at his request. Amongst so many souls you felt lifeless as if you were a sculpture. And then, you saw the boy of fifteen who has reached his peak of youth. 

Armin still has those eyes of tragedy, that would tell you nothing except stories that never ended, stories that were abandoned by their auth,or or where the author had died before finishing it. But today, those blue eyes were not blue anymore. They were gleaming in hope and yearning as he watched you walking towards him surfing through the crowd.

Armin was sitting on the throne, with his cape flowing down past his ankles with the crown that sealed many fates of varied rulers. There was a line of visitors to meet him, you were one of them, just for today. Your turn came in “Happy birthday, your highness. Congratulations on your coronation. I wish you the very best of life.”, you uttered as you handed him the gift. He smiled. With a bow, you left his sight. That was it; nothing special happened. There were no secret smiles and stolen stares. It ended so soon, happened so fast that all you felt was remorse. But you did not let that linger on your mind since you knew that, late at night, when everyone would be asleep, Armin would come to visit you. He was not a creature of the night. You were. But it turned on you that very day when you waited for him till dawn.

A girl who had eternity started counting the days. 

Four weeks and three days have passed yet Armin neither came for a visit to the library nor wrote about his days in his journal. You remembered how he told you that you should not read his journal, it’s personal, he said yet would sometimes read from that very journal, just some musings. A few days later, you could hear his name in waves and in whispers, that he conquered several kingdoms, that he won many wars, and perhaps would conquer the whole world. The entire kingdom rejoiced at his success, however, you could not. You missed him. You mourned a living person since he never wrote about such dreams in his journal. Maybe that person was long-lost, somewhere in the pages of the books that anyone no longer bothered to read.

After almost five years, Armin returned home. He had abandoned all sorts of hope to see her again. The only girl who could feel what he was thinking, the only girl who could see behind his eyes, and live in between his bedsheets. He had desired her day and night, at each passing moment, in every way a man could ever desire a woman. He remembers the feeling, the feeling that has always haunted him since childhood, people called it love while Armin could call it burning, burning with desire, yet remained lifelessly indifferent about it. True love, as they said, but Armin thought it was punishment.

He was on horseback with his sword tucked in his belt which was made of gold and silver. His mantle shrouded the armor, which had witnessed many battles and mishaps, and was embedded with rare gems and pearls carving his family emblem on the mantle spread. His blue eyes wandered everywhere, he looked every bit of regal he was. 

His own home city felt foreign to him except her, except you, who stood young and beautiful amongst several bouquets of flowers receiving smiles and coins in exchange for said flowers in broad daylight. Even after five years, you look just the same; just like how he saw you that day on a full moon night for the first time. So many things to tell you, so many things to write in his journal yet all he could do was to watch you from a distance. 

Armin dismounted from the horse, and a gust of wind swayed his hood off, revealing his blonde hair that kissed his shoulder blades. There he was, standing on the opposite side of the lane, with his right arm resting on his sword, his azure eyes locked on you while everything around you seemed to evaporate. When you shifted your gaze from the customers onto him, his lips took an upward curve and your heartbeats ceased to exist. 

The lane between the two of you was filled with people that lead their life without being aware of the tragedies evoked by two distant souls. The dusk was approaching; the crimson sun rays fell short on them, for it witnessed two polar souls burn with desire for each other. It seemed like an endless twilight where only they could exist and none other. Armin took a step forward to cross the lane while all the flowers in the shop closed their petals as if they were to witness the greatest kiss of timeless love, but alas! Tragedy befell them.

It happened within a blink. When y/n opened her eyes, she watched Armin fall to his knees with a wound near his heart. The crowd became unruly; while everyone was fleeing from the scene your feet moved on their own to save him, to stop his bleeding, to do anything, anything at all that would save his life, but before you could barely cross half of the street, your senses betrayed you. It was such a mighty fall, for both of them.

“Oh! You’re awake?”, a bold voice, ruptured your eardrums that could still hear the screams of the locals. A finger traced your face as you opened your eyes, and you saw the face that you have mourned for so long, so silently, that you failed to realize the budding love at the bottom of your heart.

“Yo-you are okay?”, you gasped, blurted out in a hurry to check his wound. It was not there anymore. What actually happened back then?

“How can I not be?”Armin stated, taking a seat near you at the edge of the bed, “What was the last thing you remember, y/n?”, his fingers found their way irrevocably in between yours.

“... that you were bleeding. Everyone was running…to save …”, Armin placed his index on your lips saying, “I was wounded before I came to see you. I wanted to see you for the last time…”, he leaned against your forehead, continuing, “... but you, you y/n saved me.”

It must have been the power of love. A voice mocked the back of your head, but then  Armin showed you a pendant; the very pendant that you gifted him on his coronation day. It was embedded with magic. It carried the untimely dead souls, people who departed before their time came. 

“This. This has been saving me every time.”, Armin smiled looking at your astonished face. 

“You knew about me? All this time?”, you asked, a little offended by the childish tantrum he pulled. 

“Of course, love.”, he reported meekly before kissing your lips that he had been dying to taste. You moaned as he advanced his way, his hands palming your face. His touch was so tender and soft that it felt as if he was afraid to touch you, what if you break again?

You looked at him as your lips whispered, “Even before you touched me, I belonged to you, Armin. All you had to do was to look at me. I was right there, with you, the whole damn time.” 

—

@tokyometronetwork

[dockofshame]

Jasmine x Fem!Reader Relationship Headcanons

Jasmine’s always been a “hearts before parts” girl, even if she’s only been involved with cis guys. She tends to be attracted to girls who are peppy and upbeat; bonus points if they’re a cat lover.

Because of her confidence and her stature, she’s always kind of intimidated people and is worried she’ll drive you away too. Words of Affirmation mean a lot to her: tell Jasmine you feel safe around her or that you appreciate her and she’ll (secretly) be grinning from ear to ear all day long.

Lots of trips to Australia if you don’t live there or have never been. Jasmine really wants to move back someday and would eagerly take you in with her, but she- and Whiskers, much to the feline’s chagrin- will follow you wherever you go.

While she appreciates quiet moments with you, Jasmine doesn’t really like dates where she’s not DOING something. She really likes out there dates like axe-throwing, rock-climbing and cliff-diving, but if you’re a little more on the tame side, she’ll try and find something that’s… not quite as wild, but still -a little- out of the box. An escape room, maybe?

She gets more playful as the relationship goes on, doing things like picking you up to hug you, or carrying you around even if it’s not necessary (the latter of which she always asks to make sure you’re okay with). If you’re on the shorter side yourself, she’s also always grabbing things off the top shelf for you.

Jasmine’s a little leery of meeting the people closest to you, for the same reasons she was apprehensive about getting into a relationship with you. Jasmine, if my family/friends aren’t happy that I’m happy, then they’re not family members worth staying in contact with/friends worth keeping.

Overall you’re the most refreshing significant other she’s ever had, and though she’s not one to express the sappy stuff to you, she counts her lucky stars every day that you’re in her life and that she wound up with the most loving, accepting significant other in existence.

[magically-with-magic]

AO3 Tag Game

Tagged by @playlistashton!

1. How many works do you have on ao3? 52

2. What’s your total ao3 word count? 210,919

3. What fandoms do you write for? Currently, Justified. And I'm working on a The Old Guard fic for FTH 2024.

4. Top five fics by kudos?

thought we were obvious (but nobody knew)

Hot and Cold

we got brighter lights back home

Only learned bad things

for the lovers and the broken-hearted

5. Do you respond to comments? I try to! I'm not as good about doing it for very old fics, or fics in fandoms I no longer write actively for.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? in the land of a thousand guilts, easily.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Most of my fics tend to lean towards happy-ish endings, but we always got the fight in us stands out for being a deliberately sappy epilogue to the angst fic mentioned in #6.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Thankfully not in a very long time.

9. Do you write smut? Most of my work is fade-to-black. I only write smut on very rare occasions, and usually as a gift for someone lol.

10. Craziest crossover? My Family is Just Right For Me. It's kinda cringe but I had fun writing it.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not word for word, but I did have someone lift two of my older fics scene for scene, basically rewriting mine in their own words. They even had the gall to list mine as "inspired by."

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yep. A few into Chinese and one into Korean, I believe.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Once, a very long time ago. It was not very good and has thankfully been lost to The Pit (ff.n).

14. All time favorite ship? This depends entirely on what fandoms I'm currently invested in 😂 Right now it's definitely Givenson for Justified.

15. What’s a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I don't post unfinished fics.

16. What are your writing strengths? Dialogue and characterization.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Action sequences, transitions, and trusting my audience.

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language? It depends. Used gratuitously, it's grating. But I've seen it used well when a character is canonically bilingual, or when the author is trying to make the reader feel as lost/confused as the POV character, similar to movies with foreign dialogue that choose not to include translated subtitles. There are also some languages that have words that just don't carry over well into English; Thai, for example, has a bunch of honorifics that can add important context about relationships and would naturally be included in dialogue canonically, but the closest English translations would read awkwardly at best.

19. First fandom you wrote in? The Slayers, waaaay back when I was a little pre-teen.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? Right now, either safe place to land or in the land of a thousand guilts. Hot and Cold was really fun, too.

Zero pressure, only if you want to tags: @itookyoudown, @almost-a-class-act, @skelingtonsderek, & @topcatnikki

[aprikosengamine]

All My Ships

(with some added context sometimes)

Claire Kincaid x Jack Mccoy (Law and Order), tbh this was the first relationship I saw that made me have butterflies and squealy feelings after something bad happened to me, and made me think about entering another relationship some day. They just had this chemistry and the looks they gave each other, i hate it was never officially confirmed expect maybe in like season 9, but tbh I've never watched past a bit of season 7 cause Claire was my OG, my fashion inspo, my raison d'être.

Sybil Crawley x Tom Branson (Downton Abbey), the way they killed her off, absolutely heartbreaking I've never managed to fully watch that episode again. They deserve to be happy in Ireland with all the babies they want and her career, with the perfect husband who backs her up whenever.

Hermione Granger x Fred Weasley (Harry Potter), I can't even remember why I started liking these two, it was so long ago probably came across a fanedit or a fic by accident. I just love the funny one and serious one matching, and finding that they're actually more similar than you think. But a PSA to everyone interested in this ship, writers sometimes don't say if Fred lives or dies in their fics and getting to the end thinking these sweet characters who love each other are going to get through this with the author being pretty unclear about the final battle only to be hit with "it's been two months since Fred's death" BOOOO!!!

JJ x Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds), specifically in fics where she doesn't get in a relationship with Will, or it doesn't get to the point where they have Henry, not a huge fan of the honorary uncle/aunt then becoming the kid's stepparent trope. I also don't like to watch the show much anymore bc I worked in that field and when it's real on your desk everyday, watching that mixed with the sappy family stuff (also garcia, not a fan) is not enjoyable anymore.

Ellie Bishop x Nick Torres (NCIS), thank god a lot of their episodes were after Abby left, no offense to Abby lovers but dear god she's pushing 50 at the end, act like it??? I think I'm just into hot people bantering with each other.

Keeley Jones x Jamie Tartt or Roy Kent (Ted Lasso), we only saw J&K together at the beginning when he was more of a prick, but the new and improved Jamie I think could be a good match bc they have similar personalities. I liked Roy and Keeley together, they were really different but a lot of what each other needed. I loved pretty much everybody in that show, except Nate. Nate can go fuck himself.

Emily Rhodes x Aaron Shore (Designated Survivor), ok maybe it is just workplace romances, these guys had some banter, on opposite sides of issues, but why did the writers decide nah we're just playing she's going with Seth, no real buildup on that.

In summary: Workplaces romances, or romances that occur when two people are forced to be in the same environment. I've never had an office fling, all the men were way older than me and in much higher positions, the few that weren't yeah no thanks, or like a summer camp forced encounter thing but I live vicariously through these people having to be professional in public and absolutely smitten in private and seeing it melt through. I'm also sucker for the guy loves her more and realizes before she does.

These aren't all the ships I've liked in my life. I was in middle school during this site's most infamous shipping thing, can you guys guess what I was reading on my phone after I was supposed to be asleep? Here's an abridged list of some of the ships I've liked over the past 10ish years doing this: Sherlock/John Watson, Destiel, Doctor(10)/Rose, Dan/Phil, and those are just the really big ones that made it through the preteen fugue state, I do get a mini heart attack every time someone in my day-to-day life mentions any of these expect doctor who.

[workofheart]

jean kirstein relationship hcs

sorry for the inactivity lately y’all school is whooping my ass </3 in the mean time, have some modern jean relationship hcs bc i miss him

protective boyfriend #1 ♡ ♡ ♡ will not hesitate to yell at ppl if they’re mean or rude to you, he doesn’t want anyone coming near you like that. thinks his partner deserves the absolute best and will not tolerate people disrespecting you or even thinking of disrespecting you. he will defend you til the day he dies, even if it embarrasses you

asks the waiter for a new dinner when yours is undercooked and you’re too nervous to say something. if you’re a person w social anxiety or just don’t feel like doing something, he would do things for you no problem, whether its fetching you something, paying for you, ordering for you, etc. he’s not gonna tease you or make fun of you, he’s just happy to help

he’s a sappy drunk :’) when he’s hammered, he gets all clingy and drags you onto the couch to cuddle w you/hangs off of you while you walk home and tells you all about how he feels about you and how he wants to spend his life with you and have dogs and a cute home forever. has the cutest little giggle while literally pouring out his feelings for you 

and if you bring it up in the morning, you KNOW he’s gonna get so shy and red like “oh... i said that? haha...”

his biggest dream is just domesticity with you - like i mentioned, living somewhere beautiful in a nice house with a beautiful family or just you and him :( he really cherishes you and just dreams about spending his life with you. his “happy place” is very likely just the two of you sitting in a field by a river on a sunny day, maybe with some sandwiches and sparkling water, with all the time in the world watching ducks swim by

i imagine that you were previously friends before starting to date, but he’d been seriously pining for you since the beginning, just never wanted to make you uncomfortable and was too scared to say anything. he’d go home after hanging out w you and just sigh (probably yell into his pillow in frustration too but shh) bc he just felt like if it wasn’t you, then who else?

meanwhile you’re being so obvious that you like him back but he keeps reasoning that you’re just being nice and wouldn’t actually want him like that 

was ready to settle for friendship and just lock away his feelings when you just pulled him aside and confessed directly. he was a strangely confused yet happy daze for the following weeks

is a sucker for romance movies - likes imagining him and you in those scenarios, romanticizes your own relationship shamelessly. i feel like he’d enjoy 500 days of summer and... wait for it... clueless. I KNOW. it’s his guilty pleasure. also consider: he bawled his eyes out at the end of la la land.

loves beach dates! loves the beach, loves the boardwalk, loves everything about that summer atmosphere. waits in line to get you funnel cake and then you sit and eat, people watching and making up stories for everyone that passes by and just laughing while you enjoy the fresh summer air. in the arcades, totally the type to win himself a cute plushie but when ur like “omg!! is that for me?” he goes oh yeah haha.. but don’t think he doesn’t notice when you’ve been eyeing up a specific toy at the ring toss stand. he will not hesitate to play game after game until he gets it for you. 

lover of back hugs. he is so generous, literally towers over you no matter ur height, just wraps his arms around u and holds u <3 it makes you feel so safe and loved and that’s all he wants for you 

carries you wherever possible. up the stairs, down the stairs, from the kitchen to the living room and back. he always boasts about how easy it is to pick you up bc he’s strong and it boosts his confidence lol

constantly tells you how pretty he thinks you are. jean always thinks you look beautiful so he always compliments your outfits and your hair and your makeup, leans into ur ear to whisper it to u and make u giggle even when it’s just the two of you at home

on that note: always gets caught staring at you and he blushes so easily when you call him out for it. can’t stop looking at you over the top of his newspaper when you’re having breakfast in the morning, can’t stop looking at you while you’re making dinner for him, can’t stop looking at you while you work or study

for valentines/your birthday/holidays he always makes you cute handmade cards out of colored construction paper. he finds a new design every single time and spends so long on it, and finishes by writing out how he feels on the inside. can u just imagine him sitting at his desk, tongue poking out of his mouth with a glue stick in hand as he lays down different colored paper hearts :( 

teases you nonstop. always poking fun at you, probably make jokes about how “irresistible” he is and how you can’t keep away lol, thinks you look adorable when you’re flustered

u give him haircuts when it’s getting long, he sits on a stool in ur bathroom and u just give him a trim every once in a while. trusts you not to fuck it up (not that you ever would) and it always comes out so nice and it makes his heart swell just to have you there to do such intimate, sort of domestic things for him.

pet names! i know so many people have talked about this but it’s just so true. has tried everything in the book to see what you like, watches carefully to see how you respond so he knows, occasionally calls you something silly like “pookie” just to get a reaction out of you

needs verbal communication. jean always has so much on his plate and has a lot of insecurities, so he really needs that reassurance that you need him and love him every day until he can accept it for himself

favorite position to sleep in is him on his back with your head on that area between his neck and shoulder, holds you really close during the night. loves loves loves when you nestle into him and cling to him for warmth when you’re asleep. has trouble sleeping if you aren’t there

dotes on you so much seriously he is so sweet and caring, just so whipped for you. he is literally so weak and always gives into you just bc it makes you happy. you want to drive out for mcdonald’s at two in the morning for an apple pie and a shake? he’s getting his keys rn

nsfw below the cut (18+)

i think mostly everyone is in agreement that jean is a total pleasure dom - he spends all night getting you to cum again and again, always asking if you can give him one more

as mentioned earlier, teases. avoids giving you what you want at first, makes you use your words, and when when you do get it, you’re getting it. aka, overstim galore. he’s not stopping until you’re spent

so much dirty talk, asks so many questions to get you to talk. “louder for me, princess” type of guy. wants to reduce you to babbling with how good he makes you feel - the sounds you make get him so incredibly hard

he is also vocal bc he knows you like it. groans his name into your ear just to feel you clench, then laughs.

never forgets to mark you up, leaves hickeys all over your neck and chest and thighs. loves to look at them later on when you’re changing, and especially loves your reaction to seeing them for yourself

size kink!! this man is almost 6’3 so chances are he’s gonna be bigger than you regardless. likes being close to you, likes being in positions where he can see you, probably has an arm slung around your waist or back whenever the position allows for it so he can hold you close

pins your arms down, holds your hips to the bed so you just have to sink into the mattress and take it

every time he aims to fuck your brains out and make sure the only thing you’re thinking about is him and how good he makes you feel

his fingers are fucking magical, dear lord, he gets you so worked up and knows just how to touch you to make you squirm, loves seeing you go hazy and unravel on his fingers. his fingers are so long and gentle and stretch you out so nice + he knows exactly what to do, where to touch you, when to change his motions to get you there in minutes

needs to be kissing you when he makes you cum. swallows your moans, adores how you struggle to kiss him back with the pleasure he’s giving you

mirror sex is top tier for him, probably has one of those siding door closets w mirrors next to his bed so he can make you look at yourself and watch just what he’s doing to you

eye contact, will 100% grab your jaw to make you look at him, loves seeing you stare up at him through glassy eyes

literal KING of aftercare. takes such good care of you, gets you anything and everything you need, cleans up so well, gives you the world and more

[alluringjae]

au cours de l’été - jjh

⤑ translation: over the summer

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

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

⤑ masterlist

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

3 juin 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jaehyun! What brings you here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Une nouvelle venue?” (A newcomer?)

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

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

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

“Jaehyun?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shucks, he was pretty cute.”

12 juin 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Correct.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

début de juillet 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s infatuated by you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Bonsoir, (Y/N).” [Goodnight, (Y/N).]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“En voyant notre mine ravie,”

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

“Les passants dans la rue, nous envient,”

Your hand perched on your cheek, admiring his talent.

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

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

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

“Un espoir merveilleux, qui donne le frisson…”

À la mi-juillet de 1957

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Get dressed and some sleep, (Y/N).”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Call me that again, please.”

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

“Tu peux m'avoir.” (You can have me.)

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

This time, it’s different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fin de juillet 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Keep them on when you ride me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Je t’aime aussi, Jaehyun.”

16 octobre 1957

Autumn made its way to the countryside.

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

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

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

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

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

“Still breathtaking.”

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

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

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

“Write to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now, what was he up to?

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

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

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

You giggled at his silliness, throwing out flying kisses.

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

21 octobre 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get to the point please!” You screeched.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Could the next summer come any faster?

14 février 1958

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I beg your pardon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your fairytale.

“Jaehyun.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He spoke about me to you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is he your favorite muse?”

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

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

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

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

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

“So tell me about your new book.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What really went down in Provence?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deal.”

6 ans plus tard (1964)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Remember when you said how his mansion felt too big?

It no longer did after getting married.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ouvre-le.” (Open it.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Je t’aime, (Y/N).”

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

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

Excluding being drenched from the rain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

copyright © 2021 by alluringjae.

[beneathashadytree]

HIM AND I (AND OUR CAT) - JEAN KIRSCHTEIN X READER

Warnings : this is set after the second timeskip, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : domestic fluff bc I'm in love

Word count : 0.6K words

Synopsis : No one would've ever expected the ever-dependable Jean to have been a secret romantic and a cat person.

Requests : Are closed for the time being.

Want to support me financially? Here’s my CashApp!

Masterlist

"You're in a rather good mood tonight," they chuckled, holding themself back from cooing as the soft kiss they left on his cheek earned them a huge, almost-sappy grin from him.

"Who wouldn't be, after a fucking great promotion?" Jean said, the elation nowhere near missing from his voice, raising his head just a little from its position on their chest where he'd been resting, amber eyes sparkling as he enthused, "We'll have more than enough money to move out to a bigger house in the city, just you and me."

Their arms tightened around him, and they chuckled out as they squeezed the brunette closer to their chest, "God, Jean, you really are a romantic at heart, aren't you?"

Though the newly-appointed ambassador-turned-Chief-Justice didn't say anything to neither confirm nor deny their statement, his cheeks began to bloom a rosy color, his embarrassment taking over. He couldn't help it though; being held so dearly, he had to laugh in pure (but still bashful) mirth, accepting the embrace with no protests.

When their lips fell on Jean's forehead once again to leave a kiss as delicate as a butterfly, overflowing with their own affection, he thought of just how long it had taken for him and his lover to reach this state of peace and tranquility. It truly had been a long time coming, and the very idea that he'd be lying down in their arms had one day been no more than a mere fantasy; wishful thinking at best.

He sighed, a bittersweet feeling rising up his throat, "I just want to give you what you've always deserved."

They shook their head, their eyes kind as their hand reached up to brush through his mullet, the soothing motion causing Jean's body to grow even more limp in their arms, "A peaceful life is one you deserve, darling. It isn't something you should just give away to me. Share it with me."

A weight landed on the bed, interrupting the serene atmosphere and turning their attention to the giant ball of fluff that pawed across the matress. Both Jean and his lover grinned, though the veteran had a particularly fond look in his eyes as the tabby cat padded over to him and curled into his side. With the weight of the two members of their family ontop of their stomach, they gave an exasperated smile, watching as Jean affectionately scratched underneath the spoilt cat's chin.

"With him too," he corrected them, his hand too busy stroking his beloved cat's back, "He doesn't like the fact that we excluded him from our plans."

They chuckled, "Well, he had been a surprise. I honestly never pegged you as the type to love cats this much."

He shrugged, though the happy look in his eyes said something else entirely other than nonchalance, while he continued to pet the soft orange hair, "They're alright."

Shaking their head, they just watched the scene unfold with infinite love in their gaze. Though the earlier moment was now lost in time, the tranquility that encased this moment too was just as perfect. Living with Jean and their heavy cat sometimes felt surreal; like the quiet life they lead was some part of a dream---but still, they would treasure this with everything they had, if only to keep that breathtaking smile on his face forevermore.

Taglist: @blondeboyfriend @mrsgiovanna @thispersoniscrazy

[matsbarzal]

can you please do fluff #15 with Jamie Oleksiak???

15. "i can't wait to see you." - jamie oleksiak

word count: 1.6k pairing: jamie oleksiak x reader

Jamie had left for Seattle the day he got the call from his agent.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t upset about how quickly things were changing. One second, he was a fan favourite of the Dallas Stars, next he was being left unprotected and easily getting swept up by the Seattle Kraken in the midst of the expansion draft.

He had promised you things wouldn’t change too much, that the two of you would be able to work everything out and figure out what you were going to do, whether you were going to follow him to Seattle or try to make it work from miles away. He had promised you that you guys would figure it out before engulfing you up in his arms, his body wrapping eagerly around you as you pressed yourself as close to his as you could.

Jamie bid you goodbye with an eager press to your lips, his body ducking down while your lips moulded against each other, the unspoken words flowing through before he pulled away, a quick press of his lips to your forehead and one last hug before he had to make his way through the airport.

That was three days ago, and you were already starting to lose it a little on the inside. Jamie was busy, you knew that it was inevitable, but the two of you had barely had the opportunity to talk, the Kraken hoarding him and his teammates during the short week they had with them before they let the players loose for the summer.

Every time your phone vibrated, or your watch dinged, or you felt even the slightest movement of your phone, you were pulling it up to your face and trying to figure out if it was Jamie messaging you or calling you, but it never was. Especially in the middle of the day.

Except for this time.

The FaceTime request shined bright on the screen in front of you, Jamie’s contact name evident at the top of the screen as the FaceTime sound made its way throughout the small deck you found yourself on. You were still in Jamie’s Dallas house, agreeing that he’d meet you there the moment Seattle let him go free for the summer.

His face appeared on the screen, a wide toothy grin crossing his face when he made eye contact through the screen.

“Look at that beautiful damn face, baby. I’ve missed you.”

Sticking your tongue out at him, you could feel your cheeks start to warm as his compliment. “Don’t go getting all sappy now, Big Rig, I still have almost a week until I get to see your handsome face in person.”

“What if it was… less than a week?”

Quirking an eyebrow at him, urging him to continue as you didn’t let any words pass your lips.

“I’ve been thinking. We have a lot of free time in Seattle, I’ve just been spending it with the boys, but Ebs is bringing his wife up on Thursday, and Tanev said he’s flying his girlfriend up tomorrow. You wanna come? See the city I’m going to beg you to move to?”

The immense joy that burst inside of you at his words was incomparable. That was the last thing you were expecting Jamie to say, you didn’t even let a thought cross your mind before you were nodding your head eagerly, a large grin taking over your face as you looked at your boyfriend through the screen.

“Oh my god, yes. Obviously yes, one hundred times yes.”

A wide grin took over Jamie’s face as he watched your excitement play out. He had barely given it a though when his teammates said they were bringing their wives and girlfriends to go house-hunting with them, citing the fact that it would be a better idea to get started now than at the end of the summer and right before training camp.

Jamie quickly jumped on the idea, knowing full well that there was no guarantee you were moving from Dallas to Seattle for him, but after all of the houses he had the opportunity to see in his few days here, he knew it would be easy enough to convince you how worth it the move would be. He just didn’t know how right he was.

“Glad you said yes, your plane ticket should already be sitting in your email. See you tomorrow at 10am, babe.”

Mock groaning at the early flight time, all you did was pout as Jamie continued to grin back at you.

“I can’t wait to see you, baby.”

“I can’t wait to see you either, lover.”

Your arms barely wrapped all the way around his body, your frame tucked happily against his own large one as the both of you ignored the hordes of people walking past. Solely focused on each other, Jamie whispered sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how much he’d missed you, and how happy he was to see you, and how excited he was for you to see Seattle.

The cool air of his rental car greeted you kindly, the warm Seattle air unexpected. You couldn’t deny that Jamie was right, Seattle was beautiful, and you did love it practically the moment you saw it.

His hand was pressed gently against the exposed thigh above your knee, eagerly pressing a kiss to your lips at every stoplight, squeezing your thigh with every laugh that passed his lips. You had missed him so much, and this was why. He was attentive, and kind, and just a constant figure, he constantly made his presence known and apparent, constantly made sure you knew how loved you were and how obsessed with you he was.

“I feel like we’re going the complete opposite way of the hotel?”

“How would you know where the hotel is, nerd? You’ve never even been here before.”

Pursuing your lips at him, you turned your head slightly to look out the back window, the downtown core of Seattle highlighted in the view you were currently looking at. Forcing your body back around to glance at him, you quirked an eyebrow in response.

Rolling his eyes playfully, all Jamie did was squeeze your thigh again and grin. “I’m showing you something that I think you’ll love. Brought you out here for a reason, didn’ I?”

Shrugging your shoulders with a smile, you grabbed his much larger hand and entwined your fingers with his. His response: a light and gentle squeeze before pressing the back of your hand to his lips and then moving your entwined fingers back to the top of your thigh.

The house began to appear, the downtown core slowly dissipating as Jamie made his way more and more towards the suburbs of Seattle. The houses were all beautiful, the minimalistic and cottage core-like aesthetic flowing through the area the deeper and deeper Jamie found himself driving.

It took a few minutes for Jamie to find the parking lot he was looking for, a playground parking lot the most vacant lot he could find in the area. Curious, you followed his lead, unbuckling your seatbelt and following him out of the car. His arm easily wrapped around your shoulder as he directed you on where to walk, the conversation flowing lightly between the two of you.

The area was quiet, there were some families on the playground, couples walking their dogs, but it was quiet, and homey. Similar to the area you and Jamie lived in, in Dallas.

Pointing with his hand that wasn’t attached to the arm wrapped around your shoulder, you averted your eyes to gaze at the object. Your eyes met the bright right of a ‘sold’ sign, the beautiful mint-coloured home behind it staring back at you.

“Jordan Eberle and his wife bought this house before they even looked at it. Ebs and I went yesterday, it’s so gorgeous in there. You’d love it. Open-concept kitchen, the living room couches won’t be pressed against the wall, the master bedroom has two walk-in closets. You’d be so jealous.”

You couldn’t deny the jealousy that creeped up inside of you at the sounds of what he was describing. Four things ticked off your list for the future house Jamie and you would one day hopefully inhabit, almost immediately? Sounded too good to be true.

The two of you continued, before stopping in front of a second house, just steps away from the previous one you had eyed.

“This house is almost identical. Except for the colour, obviously. But the baby blue and white are cute, no?”

Nodding your head at his words, you couldn’t deny that the house was cute. Minimalistic, a nice white porch, a swing prevalent just steps away from the front door. Just the outside alone was everything you had always dreamed of and more.

“Almost the same setup inside, except one of the walls on the main floor may have to be torn down to accommodate an open concept kitchen,” quirking an eyebrow at his words, you turned to him with a questioning look in his eyes.

“I want you to move to Seattle with me, I’m prepared to put an offer in for this house in 25 minutes if you say you like the house and that you’ll move here. I’ll even let you decorate it to your heart’s desire, be our own little interior designer or whatever.”

You could barely contain the smile of glee at his words, you had been on edge about following Jamie to another city after getting situated in Dallas for the second time, change was hard, but when it felt like change kept occurring every two years… well… it made things even more difficult.

It was like Jamie could sense your worries as he started again, “Seattle’s in it for the long-run. The contracts five years. I think here is it for us, baby. I think you’d love it here, and I think you’d love this house.”

“Show me our future house then, Mr. Oleksiak.”

note: I hope you enjoyed!!! thank you for requesting one <3

[valwentinefics]

I’m not sure if you’re still taking Zemo x reader requests but the idea Zemo breaking out of prison and going straight to see the person who he loves (who may or may not be an avenger/ex avenger who isn’t too pleased to see him but begrudgingly takes him in) lives in my head rent free.👀

A/n: I hope you like it! Although I really enjoyed writing it I find it a bit unnecessarily dramatic and sappy but hey its free!

Over him - Helmut Zemo x Reader

You were over Helmut Zemo. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. It was like a mantra you repeated during your day, reminding yourself to not long for his touch and caring words. Even though you still lived in his house and lived off of his large wealth, you insisted you were over him. It wasn’t your choice, you just had to be. He was locked away with no chance of getting out, it was the only way you would be able to cope with the pain of losing him and end the sleepless tear filled nights. You had to be over him.

Ever since he was locked up your days were mundane and endless, your schedule was practically nonexistent except for your bi-weekly shopping trips. If you weren’t in such denial over your lingering love for Zemo you’d say you were dealing with a heartbreak that never seemed to lose its edge despite the years. Even now, as you laid down in the backyard on an old towel, soaking up the sun and enjoying the warm weather, you felt an emptiness you couldn’t quite describe. Honestly it was hard to describe your feelings in general since Zemo had been arrested, every emotion had the added feeling of emptiness and heartbreak that you didn’t want to admit you felt to it.

Your romance with Zemo had been unexpected. You were the only Avenger to stay behind and clean up Sokovia despite being powerless, which was where you met him trapped under some rubble. You were the one who had offered to help him find his family and the one to comfort him when they found their bodies. You had quit the Avengers soon after, not wanting to take part in any more destruction. You two had stayed in contact after the Sokovia incident, romance finding its way into both of your hearts through phone calls and letters. You had moved over to his house quite soon after he had nervously asked to make your relationship official and everything seemed to be going great, until you turned on the news to find out he had been behind the bombing and the issues with the Avengers. 

You used to write to him after the shock of what had happened wore off, your love managing to still live on inside of you despite his misdeeds. Your letters to him started off long and hopeful but soon became short before dying out altogether. You longed to speak to him deep down, but your pride and insistence that you didn’t have feelings for him anymore prevented you from seeking out contact with him. What was the point? He was never getting out, and his actions with the Avengers was a big betrayal you had never felt before.

The ringing of a doorbell faintly reached your ears through the nearby open door. You entered the house and tossed on an old long sweater over your bathing suit clad body before opening the front door, coming face to face with the man you had sworn you no longer loved. Held in his hands was a bouquet of your favourite flowers and the smile you used to adore was on his face. Stationed behind him were two people you had only heard of but never met in person, Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes which only added to your confused state.

“Liebling-” He began, interrupted by you quickly moving to shut the door, only for it to be stopped by his foot. “May I please enter my house?”

You hesitated, a scowl on your face. Why was he out here with an Avenger and the guy he had framed for a bombing? Why was he out at all? As much as you wanted to slam the door in his face and pretend it never happened, your heart and knowledge that this was his house and that he had every right to be in there took over and you opened the door for him. “Let me get changed.” You sighed.

-

You exited your room after getting dressed to Zemo seated on the couch, his two companions nowhere to be found. He stood up as soon as he saw you, walking over to you, but you ignored him and headed to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water, many thoughts swirling in your head. Deep down you knew your feelings for him never left, and you wished to run into his arms and tell him how hard life had been without him around, but your mind stopped you. How could you possibly run back to him after everything that had happened.

“I assume you want to know why I’m here.” He began with an exhale, looking into your eyes nervously while you drank your water.

“Don’t care.” You replied curtly, your eyes not breaking contact with his. You turned away from him and took the flowers from the counter he had placed them on and found a vase, silently filling it up with water and placing the flowers in it, the silence awkwardly consumed the both of you.

“Look, Liebling, I know you’re upset-”

You cut him off with a scoff, spinning around to face him. “Upset? Why would I be upset? It’s not like my boyfriend decided to go try and make my friends kill each other while I played housewife for him, unaware of everything that was going on until the bastard got himself locked up!” 

“I have made some mistakes, but I had assumed you would be happier to see me. You were all I thought about while locked away.” There was a bit of hurt in his voice that pained you to hear, but you kept your stern appearance, staring him down mercilessly.

“I’ve moved on.” You replied, your voice cracking as you said it. You didn’t know why the tears began to prick your eyes as you said that. You had repeated it in your head many times, why was it bothering you know? Perhaps it was because you saw the way Zemo’s eyes widened at the three words, or maybe it was because speaking it out loud added a bit of permanency to the statement, but god it hurt you.

“You don’t mean that Schatz…” He stated in disbelief. “I can see it in your eyes, you love me… do not tell me that you have moved on when we both know it’s a lie.” His hand reached to touch your arm and you jerked it away. 

“I-” Your heart shattered staring at the man before you. “I can’t love you.” You confessed, your feelings spilling out as you filled with guilt for what you had said. As much as Zemo tried not to let things get to him, you knew your words had, and it hurt you to see him be affected by them. He had trusted you with his softer side, with his heart, and with three words you had spat on it. “You’ll just be taken away again.” You looked away, tears threatening to spill.

“Y/n, look at me please.” He requested and you obliged, searching his face for some kind of indication about what he was about to say. “I cannot promise you I won’t have to leave you again, but mein Schatz I can promise you I’ll always love you. You’re the one thing I have left and I cannot bear to lose you too. The thought of you kept me going every day. I tried to write to you but I could not think of the words to describe how much I missed you and longed for your touch or the sound of your laughter.” 

You couldn’t stop the tears that fell down your face, your resolve crumbling to pieces. You couldn’t lie to yourself any longer, you loved him more than you needed to breathe. “Helmut, I couldn’t handle being apart from you, every day was filled with me longing to see you day and night. But you manipulated my friends and betrayed my trust, then I was left alone with no warning. I know that I love you Helmut, I just don’t know if I should feel that way.”

 “You love me, I love you, there’s nothing more important than that. Why waste your time worrying about what you should feel instead of enjoying what you do feel?” He asked, his hands cupping your cheeks. “We cannot tell what the future will hold for us but we can enjoy the present.”

His words struck a chord within you. You were done trying to cover up your feelings, instead you decided to relish in the company of your lover while you still had the chance. “Do you think the future will be kind to us? Will we get a happy ending?” Your eyes searched his for any indication of what was going to come next in your lives. 

Zemo’s eyes looked into yours with a tender gaze. “I cannot tell you what the future holds, but I can tell you I’ll fight for a happy ending.” And you believed him. You loved Helmut Zemo once more.

[gubler-me-up]

Not a Day Too Soon

Request: Spencer Reid on his wedding day hands the reader a receipt whilst at the altar instead of starting his vows and asks them to read the date and it turns out it’s like one month after their first date and then he asks the reader to read what the receipt is for and it was for their engagement ring and he’s just “that’s how long I’ve been sure. That’s how long I’ve wanted this to happen” and they’re both just crying sappy dorks getting married

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! Hope this is what you dreamed of when you submitted this request to me. I hope I met all your expectations for sappy fluff! From your request, I decided to make the reader gender-neutral if that’s okay with you!! There wasn’t a specific gender specified and I wasn’t sure if it was done intentionally or not, but I hope you still love it! (Also, to anyone reading, I put a father walking the reader down the aisle, but you totally can substitute someone else in placement of a father)

Couple: Spencer Reid/Gender-Neutral!reader

Category: Wedding fluff

Content warning: None whatsoever

Word count: 2.4k

Notes: Y/F/F=Your favourite flower Y/B/F=Your best friend Y/M/N=Your middle name Y/L/N=Your last name 

-------------

Today was the beginning of the rest of your life with Spencer. For the last two years it had already felt as if you two had known each other centuries before. Every moment with him was undeniably time well spent. Every moment felt as if you had lived it and were reliving the best parts in an endless wheel of dreams. Marrying Spencer Reid was probably the peak of your forever happiness.

You stood in front of the mirror in your dressing room to look over everything. Your makeup had been flawlessly done and so was your hair. You were so nervous your eyeliner would smudge or your foundation wouldn’t match somehow. You had to admit it looked absolutely flawless. Your makeup artist was definitely worth every penny.

You admired your wedding attire one last time. The BAU girls and some of your friends had accompanied you to pick your perfect wedding attire. It took several hours but you were satisfied with your choice. You don’t remember the last time you ever felt so beautiful. Today was destined to be the best day of your life.

“Y/N, you ready?” You heard your dad ask from behind you.

You turned around and smiled. “Of course.”

You walked over to him and linked your arm with his. He handed you your bouquet of Y/F/F. He guided you out of the dressing room and out into the long hallway leading outside. He couldn’t stop telling you how beautiful you looked and how happy he was for you. You had to stop yourself from letting your tears fall from your eyes. You couldn’t bear messing up your mascara before meeting Spencer at the alter. You knew you would be shedding plenty of tears throughout the day, but you wanted to at least make it down the aisle tear-free.

You two made it out into the courtyard venue and the beautiful clear skies greeted you. The sun warmed your cheeks as a smile spread across your face. Spencer was standing at the altar in his black tuxedo with a cute black bowtie and from what you could see he was still wearing his famous mismatched socks. You couldn’t ask to marry anyone better ever in your life.

Everyone looked at you as you walked down the aisle. You could hear breathy ‘oh wow’s’ and ‘they looks gorgeous’ from the crowd of family and friends. Your eyes were still set on Spencer though. He covered his mouth in amazement as he watched you walk towards him. His joy couldn’t be held any longer as you saw a few tears escape his eyes. He removed his hand from his mouth to wipe them away. His covered smile was now beaming as he continued watching you in all your beauty. Derek, who was his best man, had to rub his back to give him some composure again.

As you reached the altar, you looked at your dad and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He held your hands tight in his, squeezing them tight before letting go. You knew he was about to shed tears of his own by how red his eyes were.

“I love you, Y/N. I’m so happy for you,” he said.

“I love you too,” you said.

He went to go take his seat as you went to your designated spot across from Spencer. Y/B/F grabbed your bouquet from your hands. Spencer reached out for your hands and you didn’t hesitate to place yours in his. You held his hands tight in yours, happy he was here with you. He looked even more handsome up close. His smile was so joyous you couldn’t help to reflect it back.

Rossi soon walked in to meet both of you in the middle of the altar to begin the ceremony. You and Spencer hadn’t gotten a real pastor since neither of you were that big on religion and decided to just have a wedding officiant instead and to your surprise Rossi was a certified one. You saved yourselves a couple of bucks in exchange for a few sarcastic remarks and tasteful humour.

“Well, if I’m thinking what everyone else is thinking than my answer is yes, it is about time someone other than myself to get married,” he began and got a ton of laughs in response.

He looked at the both of you, who were laughing, but both of you were laughing while looking deeply into each other’s eyes as if you were in your own world. He even noticed that you two were whispering “I love you” to each other already and you were slowly, but surely tearing up.

“They’re already saying “I love you” to each other. Hello, kids, this is a wedding ceremony, not a date. Save the I love you’s for either the Honeymoon or the bedroom,” Rossi joked.

Everyone laughed, even you and Spencer, as you two finally got over yourselves. You took the time to wipe an escaped tear from your eye and regained yourself by taking a deep breath. Rossi cleared his throat to get everyone settled, so he could proceed with the ceremony quicker since he believed that you and Spencer would rather spend your wedding privately at that point.

“But being serious now, we’re gathered here to join these two dorks in holy matrimony. I’m glad that we could all be here today to join Spencer Walter Reid and Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N as one big Doctorate degree,” he joked again.

Both you and Spencer looked at each other with approval. You two had spent your money wisely when you decided to spare the pastor and hire Rossi instead. He brought something so tedious to life.

“Proceeding, in the presence of family, friends and loved ones, I’m going to go ahead and initiate this whole thing. Ever since these two were born, they’ve been meant for each other, but it took fate to match them up at the right time. We’re also here to celebrate the good in life that has come from the bad and trust me, they make bad look like a schoolyard bully. I’m honoured to bind these two souls together and I’m overjoyed to not be the one saying the vows because I forgot them, so please, Spencer, let your lovely partner know how you feel.”

Spencer smiled and took a deep breath as he let go of your hands to reach into his pocket. He pulled out a piece of folded paper. He let out a soft chuckle as he looked up from the paper to you. You stared at him, eagerly awaiting him to say his vows. You were kind of surprised he had to write down his vows. Maybe an eidetic memory was good to a fault. To your surprise though, he handed you the paper.

“Y/N, read the date on the receipt,” he said.

You looked at him confused, but followed his instructions. This was definitely an unexpected move on Spencer’s part, but then again he was always full of surprises. You opened up the receipt and looked at the top for the date.

“June 3rd,” you said.

“You know what day it was a month prior to that date?” He asked.

You giggled as you remembered. “How could I forget? It was our first date.”

He smiled. “Exactly. Can you read what the receipt was for?”

You looked back down at the receipt. You went to the items listed and only saw one. As soon as you read it, you felt tears form in your eyes again. You looked up at him and as soon as he saw the look on your face, he knew you saw what he bought. You could also see tears starting to form in his eyes again.

“An…an engagement ring,” you said as you tried your best to hold back your tears.

“Yes, an engagement ring. That’s how long I’ve been sure we were meant to be. That’s how long I’ve wanted this moment to happen. I bought the engagement ring a month after our first date with the intention of marrying you one day. All that I have, all that I am, all that I’ll ever be is yours forever. From the very moment I saw you, I knew you were the one for me, the one that I knew I had to spend the rest of my life with. Our courtship was one of the best days of my life, for you have become not just my lover and companion, but also my best friend. I want to be your lover, your companion and your best friend for the rest of my life. I promise to love and cherish you, to keep you close and with faithfulness, to be your prop and helpmate in times of need, to make you laugh and to hold you when you cry, to hold you to the highest respect and honor as you so deserve for the rest of my life,” he said as a few tears escaped his eyes.

As he said every word, you felt it sting the depths of your heart as no other words have done before. The love that rolled off his tongue, every word he said overwhelmed you with content. You looked lovingly in his eyes as he looked back at you with a warm smile that you could never get enough of. It made you thrilled to think that you would be seeing that face for the rest of your life and you had no regrets about that decision.

Knowing a month from the first day you two met was the day he decided he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life was the best feeling your heart ever felt. You were overjoyed Spencer had felt as deeply for you as you did him from the start. The love he gave you would never grow old to you not even after death. His love would probably still warm you from the grave through its endless warmth.

“Y/N,” Rossi said. “Go ahead.”

You took a deep, jagged breath. “I have dreamed my whole life of having someone as…as wonderful as you to love me the way you do. I give myself to you and I…I gladly promise here to treasure for all of my days the love we celebrate today. Let us bring together our lives and find ourselves anew each day…Sorry.”

A few tears started to stream down your face. Spencer took his right hand and wiped away your tears, gently enough, so he didn’t mess up the hours of perfecting your makeup for the occasion. He gently whispered to you to take your time because he knew how much this meant to you and how overwhelmed you were. You smiled at his touch, as you seemed to breathe a bit easier from his reassurance. You took another breath before continuing.

“You are a precious gift to me, my springtime, my hope and my joy. You are everything that's good and pure and true and I worship you with my mind, body and soul. How lucky I am to be able to say that you are mine, to be able to love and cherish you for the rest of my days. I vow to always put you first in my life, always be there to comfort you in your sorrow and rejoice with you in your victories. May our hearts and very breath become one as we unite this day as partners in life. I promise to be your true love from this day forward and forevermore.”

He beamed a big grin at you as a few more tears left his eyes. It was your turn to use your hand as tissue and wiped away his tears. Tears were still flowing down your own eyes as you found it hard to hold back your happiness. From ear shot you could hear some people in the audience crying from joy and letting out sweet awe’s as they watched the two of you being in deep love with one another.

“I don’t think I could have said that better and I’ve been married three times. Before these two crying dorks become dehydrated from water loss, let’s get to the ring exchange. Henry, the rings, please,” Rossi said.

Henry, who was standing by Spencer’s side, lifted up the pillow to give the two white gold rings to you both. You and Spencer took each other’s ring, waiting for the instructions from Rossi to initiate the ring exchange.

“Spencer, as you put the ring on Y/N’s finger, repeat after me: I, Spencer Reid, take you, Y/N Y/L/N, to be my partner.”

“I, Spencer Reid, take you, Y/N Y/L/N, to be my partner. I promise you love, honour and respect, to be faithful to you and forsaking all others, until death do us part,” Spencer finished as he eagerly slipped your wedding ring on your finger.

“Or not. Y/N, your vow,” Rossi said.

“I, Y/N Y/L/N, take you, Spencer Reid, to be my partner. I promise you love, honour and respect, to be faithful to you and forsaking all others, until death do us part,” you said as you slipped his ring on his ring finger.

“I don’t think I really have to ask this since you basically said it, but Spencer, do you take Y/N as your lawfully wedded partner till death do you part?” Rossi asked.

“I do,” he responded.

“Y/N, do you take Spencer as your lawfully wedded partner?” he asked.

“I do,” you said.

“Well, I know you two have been waiting for this exact moment since June 3rd, so you may now kiss.”

He didn’t even have to tell either of you that as you two immediately locked lips as he finished his sentence and enjoyed your first kiss as lifelong partners. You had to admit, it felt pretty good, maybe even better than any other kiss you two had.

Everyone stood up as they cheered for you both, some crying at the sight of two souls becoming one. As you parted lips, both of you looked deep into each other’s eyes and smiled brightly at each other. You had only been married for a minute and already started to mimic each other. The pianist started to play a tune for you two to walk out with. Spencer immediately grabbed your hand as you grasped his with great strength as he led the way down the aisle as your guests watched and cheered for your happiness and future lives together.

—–

MASTERLIST

[leviiattacks]

your angst is really good and i wanted to may i request guard levi and princess reader, they have an affair because they end up falling in love but one day levi can’t protect her because he takes his eyes off her and idk the plot i just felt like crying today and i need a reason so just something angsty😭

note :: i saw this and really wanted to write something but i’m not really sure if i did well it’s shorter than what i normally write but hopefully i did some justice to your request. requests are open so feel free to drop by again and request if you want to !!

++ might make this into an actual fic perhaps,,, minus the dying and what not but guard levi is a very interesting concept to me hmm

warnings :: blood, death, infidelity

No one knows or is able to understand why or how Levi is having such a hard time coping with your death. You are the princess of the nation and he, your guard. Nothing more, nothing less.

At least that’s what everyone else in the Kingdom thinks.

Every night he greets your book shelf like a mad man. Well, it’s all he has to remember you by, why would he ever let it go with ease?

"What you reading? Another sappy romance novel?" He's poked his head from a corner and you grin up at him telling him that you are indeed indulging in another piece of romantic fiction.

For an unknown reason dread fills his gut when he meets your smile, that's never happened before.

It's a bad omen, a sign that he's fallen but is in denial, refutation, rejection, contradiction whatever it is he can't find an appropriate word for it. All he knows is he'll regret this later. He doesn't know why but the sinking feeling in his stomach is an indication that this forbidden romance the two of you share in secrecy will go South.

It’s silent apart from your humming.

"Levi... can you promise me you'll live a long happy life?" The out of place question is worrying. Another premonition and he opens his mouth to voice his concern. However your gaze lingers on his face telling him to not cause a dispute, not right now.

"If you promise me the same, then yes My Lady."

Looking away you're awake but distant. "We are in privacy. You may use my name Levi."

"And, I don't know if I can live a long and happy life. I can try." The slow confession only makes his heart race uncomfortably.

He sighs sitting beside you, your shoulders rub against his. "Then I retract my previous statement. I cannot possibly live a happy life when the princess is discontent."

You flail your arms around, hands are flapping in front of your chest in an attempt to convince him to not think so foolishly.

He narrows his eyes. Expression unreadable, a mix of frustration, maybe even premature grief. It's enough to coax an agreement out of you.

"Very well, I promise to live happy."

Fists clenching your bed sheets he damns himself to Hell for ignoring his instincts. For putting your life in jeopardy all for his own temporary satisfaction.

His forehead hits the plush duvet and he inhales the linen hoping that your smell lingers, hoping that the vanilla is still present. Hoping there’s something left to prove he hasn’t made you up. He fears he’ll forget your scent, your voice, your touch. He fears he’ll forget it all.

If he had followed orders, never let himself grow emotionally involved perhaps you would still be here. Perhaps, if he didn't lead you astray and convince you to betray royalty by pursuing what the two of you shared, maybe just maybe you would still be alive and well.

He'll end up in damnation for all the pain and suffering he's caused you, He curses himself every day for having the nerve to fall in love with a member of Royalty.

No matter how well respected or how strong he was in the military he never had the power to protect you from the political turmoil your family was submerged in. He wasn't of Royal blood, there was nothing he could do to protect you.

One of you would die first, and die you did.

He assumes he was made to suffer through that bleak, unwelcoming night for a reason. That's why he had to see the enemy take you away from him, he needed to be given a reality check.

Royalty and commoners are worlds apart for a reason.

You scream at the world as you call for him, shrieking as the blade erupts from your stomach. It’s throbbing and strumming in vengeance. The contents of your belly become one with the floor but the pungent stench isn't enough to pry Levi away from you. The air is quickly fogging up with the scent of your blood and insides. You whimper, you cry, you sob staring at the heavens.

"You are not dying on me, You can't be dying on me, I won't let you die on me. We haven't said goodbye properly, you can't just-"

"Yes I can Levi. I am not immortal." There you are laughing as you wilt in his arms, you disregard the emptiness you feel, you need to comfort him. Withering away isn't an option for now.

Frantically attempting to staunch the wound to no avail Levi is distraught when he feels you slipping away from him. "You promised to live a long happy life." He murmurs in betrayal, his eyes are glazed over in complete shock.

Panting out of exhaustion and pressing down firmer he's pleading you to not let go of him just yet.

You watch him unravel above you, eyes squeezed shut, he’s lurching forward burying the sounds that want to escape from his chest so badly.

Your shaking hands travel to his cheeks cupping them gently and you draw hesitant circles into his cold skin.

Levi’s tears fall and you sense the dampness coat your fingertips.

"If you were paying attention you would know I promised to live happy Levi, not live long."

You broke the promise, an early death is not dying happy.

He's stunned, he should’ve known you’d pull something like that.

"You made me the happiest Levi."

He thinks that’s a lie.

You break under the pressure and finally admit how you feel.

"I'm scared, what if we never-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, we will do what we've planned. I promise." He growls assertive in his point of view.

But, you know it's too late. Placing his unsteady hand above your heart you let your other hand fall from his face. The energy is being drained out of you quicker than expected.

"I dreamt about you last night, dreamt we could be happy.” You hack and gasp desperately for breath but much to Levi’s horrified gaze the blood only trickles down your chin. “I hope we reunite whether that be in the afterlife if that place is real or in another life entirely. We will become lovers but we can't indulge in that luxury right now."

"No, no, no. Shut up, stop talking you're wasting your breath you need to-"

"I love you Levi, please live happily for me."

Then you are limp.

His eyes shoot open as the scene draws to an end. Yet another nightmare has plagued him, one where he is reminded of your passing.

The title of murderer is self appointed, he holds himself responsible for taking his eyes off you. It gave your assassin the perfect window of opportunity to strike, it had been enough to take you out like a faltering light.

Sometimes as he drinks into the night trying to forget it all. He wonders if everything would be different if he had kept his love for you locked away.

Would you still be alive and married to that other man whilst he would have to watch on in pain?

But nothing would be more painful than now, he’d rather watch that instead of accept that you are long gone.

Would you still be alive and forced to bed your horrible fiancé?

Would you carry that man’s children?

He hates himself for confessing and telling you how he felt. He despises that you had to suffer for his sin.

But, that’s the issue with love. It had made the danger in Levi look like safety to you and it had made the danger in you look like peace to Levi.

There are reasons why a guard and his princess should never mingle.

After all, they are worlds apart for a reason.

[morporkian-cryptid]

I would love to hear about your headcanons for intercultural Lupin/Jigen/Goemon!

Oooooh boy am I glad you asked! -rubs hands- This is gonna be long. -checks word count- three pages on MS Word. Wow.

DISCLAIMER: I am French, and I’ve never been to Japan. All my knowledge of Japanese culture comes from 1) people who are also French and study Japanese, and 2) videos and testimonies of Japanese people, and non-Japanese people who live in Japan. So some of this might be inaccurate, if it’s the case don’t hesitate to correct me.

First off, nationality/culture headcanons. I consider that Lupin’s half-French half-Japanese but grew up mostly with French culture. Goemon is the most Japanese man to ever Japanese. While I usually stick to the idea of Jigen having grown up in America, for the purpose of these headcanons, he’s mostly of Japanese culture (maybe he grew up in Bronx like the wiki says, but his family still taught him Japanese cultural behaviours). And Fujiko’s also Japanese, but she’s traveled so much and put on so many personas that it doesn’t really show in her manners.

Lupin’s a super sappy and romantic lover. Like, he only has two settings: complete oblivious dumbass (or completely repressed pining, depending on the fic), and most over-the-top flamboyant romantic lover since Casanova. Goemon is pretty shy and reserved, his feelings only concern him and he’s not gonna flaunt them, and he gets really flustered by displays of affections towards him. Jigen is just... emotionally constipated. As soon as he gets an emotion he must shove it back into his throat. (that gets better with time). Fujiko tends to hide her real feelings, because she pretends to be in love all the time for work. At this point I think she probably doesn’t really know how to really express her feelings in a genuine way (also I kinda hc her as aro).

Japanese people don’t really say “I love you”. There are two expressions for that, “suki desu” (I like you) and “aishiteru” (I love you), but “suki desu” is pretty casual from what I’ve understood (I’m not sure), while “aishiteru” is SUPER DRAMATIC. Like, “deathbead confession” dramatic. (not THAT much, but I’ve heard it compared twice to the deathbed situation). Most Japanese folks don’t really say “aishiteru” even to their s/o, because saying it all the time would wear out the meaning. In French, there’s only one word for “I love you” and it’s “Je t’aime”. Most people only say it to their s/o and their family, and sometimes their very close friends (but apparently nowadays there’s a trend of saying it to your friends in any situation, so…). From what I’ve seen, most people don’t have a problem with saying it regularly.

So now imagine Jigen or Goemon coming home, and Lupin’s just really happy to see them. L: Aaah, Daisuke-chan! Aishiteru! J: -drops all the groceries- LUPIN, ARE YOU OKAY? ARE YOU DYING?

(also, Goemon furiously blushing every time Lupin says aishiteru to him)

I also really like the idea of Lupin saying “je t’aime” in French to his partners. Or just using French for sweet talk with them. French is not a language we hear him speak very often, despite it being probably his first language. So it must be something very personal for him (he’d use Japanese and English, or the person’s language, when flirting with some random cutie on the street, but French is reserved for his partners only, because it’s the language of his heart. Yes I know this phrasing is sappy af, stfu).

Also, pet names aren’t really a thing in Japan. Apparently, one of the closest things they have is “anata”, which just means “you”, but in a very familiar way that you can only use with people you’re pretty close to. Apparently, it’s used (among others) by married couple. As for France… we have SO MANY terms of endearment. I think it’s kinda like in English, you have the main, “official” ones like honey, sweetie, darling, etc, but if you want to call someone “mon roudoudou” or “ma crêpe au sucre” no one’s gonna stop you (except your s/o if your s/o is Jigen). You can also ~*combine them*~. Behold:

Lupin: My cherished and beloved Daisuke whom I love and adore Jigen: You (derogatory)

(in the video I watched about pet names, the (American) wife sometimes calls her (Japanese) husband "Suteki na otto", which roughly translates to "my magnificent husband". Which is DEFINITELY something Lupin would call Jigen and Goemon if they got married.)

You can combine French pet names, but the more you add, the more obvious it becomes that you’re doing it for the joke – kids tend to do that when they want to convince their parents to buy them sweets. Jigen, Goemon and Fujiko* have no idea what Lupin is saying to them when he calls them pet names in French, but they know how dramatic it is by how long Lupin has been going on.

Lupin: Mon amour chéri adoré, lumière de mon cœur et de ma vie que j'adorerais pour toujours et pour l'éternité** Fujiko : Whatever you’re after, forget it.

*except Fujiko because I think she’s fluent in French. The other two have just picked up a few words here and there. Lupin somehow managed to convince Jigen that “enculé” (roughly translates to dickhead) means “my beloved”.

**my adored and beloved love, light of my heart and of my life whom I will adore forever and for eternity

There’s also a thing about talking about your relationship – or rather, there isn’t a thing. Japanese folks don’t really tend to broadcast the fact that they’re in a relationship, a person in the video even said that they had been invited to the wedding of a friend, but they didn’t even know that friend had a partner in the first place. Considering how reserved Jigen and Goemon are, they wouldn’t really advertise the fact that they’re dating anyone, let alone each other or Lupin or Fujiko. They’d avoid any public displays of affection, and only kiss or say cute things when they’re in private.

Lupin, on the other hand…

Well, I think he’d tone it down if it makes his partners uncomfortable, but still, he is the most flamboyant and dramatic man to ever date anyone. And he’s so in love with his partners he’d want the whole world to know that he’s dating the most handsome men ever and the most beautiful woman on the planet. Fujiko doesn’t really mind (although in some situations it might be bad for business). The boys don’t really like it. Goemon blushes furiously when Lupin flirts with him in public (or in private tbh), and Jigen just mutters something and tries to push Lupin away (and hide how flustered he is). If Lupin tones it down, Jigen and Goemon would eventually get used to it, but it would take a lot of time.

Imagine when they get married. Lupin physically CANNOT shut the fuck up about how they’re his husbands.

(tbh that’s partly because he just has a very flamboyant personality, but also I think he desperately wants his partners to know how much he loves them. Goemon and Jigen both aren’t very used to having people love them, and I’d argue that Fujiko too, so he wants to make sure they know. He’s also very possessive and likes to show off, so if he’s dating the world’s greatest boyfriends, everyone needs to know about it.)

Another thing that the videos said, was that Japanese guys are apparently very oblivious to flirting (I don’t really know how accurate that is, because Japan also has a practice called “nanpa” which is basically street flirting? And I haven’t done enough research on how Japanese people flirt).

I already headcanonned Jigen and Goemon to be oblivious as fuck (as well as Lupin depending on the context), but having it as a result of cultural differences means it would be more prominent when Lupin is flirting with them than when they’re flirting with each other.

That said, they've seen him flirt with women enough to know when he's flirting with them. Maybe Lupin has even desensitized them to flirting, and now when someone flirts normally, they don't notice.

LOVE LANGUAGES!!

Like I said, Japanese people don’t really do “words of affirmation”, in general they’re more about “acts of services” or “gift giving” (of course it depends from person to person, but culturally that seems to be the norm). Which, when you look at canon, is kinda a thing that Jigen does a lot (cooking for the Gang? Helping Lupin out whenever he asks? All acts of services). Jigen doesn’t like to express his feelings with words. Lupin on the other hand is very big on the “words of affirmation” thing (grand declarations of love, anyone?)

(granted, here he said “aishiteru ze” which apparently means “I love you haha lol”, BUT STILL)

He’s also a big “gift giving/receiving” person, but I think that’s mostly because of Fujiko. Look me in the eye and tell me that Fujiko’s love language can be anything other than gifts. I dare you. Okay, maybe quality time as well. I think she receives love as gift receiving, and expresses her love as quality time. I’m not very sure about Goemon, so this is mostly headcanon based on nothing in canon, but I think his love language is probably touches and quality time. Just spending time near his partners while meditating, sitting in the kitchen when Jigen’s cooking, acting as Lupin’s rubber duck when he’s preparing a heist, accompanying Fujiko when she’s scouting out the next victim for her marriage scam…

As for touches… well it’s OBVIOUS that Lupin is very big on physical affection. In canon, Jigen and Goemon aren’t really, but… personally I think they’re very touch starved. Especially Goemon. Jigen would probably try to push Lupin away at first, and tell him he’s too clingy and annoying; and then be freaked out when he realizes that he actually likes the affection. It would take him time to accept that he wants affection in other forms that making out and having sex, but Lupin is happy to provide. As for Goemon… just imagine a cat. He tries to act all tough and like he doesn’t need anyone, but as soon as Lupin or Fujiko start petting his hair he can’t help but lean into it. The poor man is completely touch-starved, please give him some love. (Lupin and Fujiko both think it’s absolutely adorable). So, like, the Gang cuddling in one big pile on the couch, but also small hand touches in passing, resting their hand on each-other’s shoulders, back hugs when someone’s cooking or studying, cheek kisses, back rubs, head scritches, brushing a strand of hair out of someone’s face… And also Lupin just hug-tackling anyone without warning. That’s something he does on the regular and no one can convince me otherwise.

(Also I personally hc Goemon as autistic, so he might usually shy away from physical touches because he’s hypersensitive, but that’s another topic)

So yeah. I think that’s all I have for now, which is already a lot! I would LOVE if y’all shared your headcanons as well, give me your thoughts on the ones I shared, or if you know other things on cultural differences that might lead to some fun headcanons, that’d be awesome!

Btw, here are the videos I mentioned:

Four odd things about Japanese husbands

Japanese pet names

Japanese don't say I love you?

[shellyb04]

And here we are, all caught up. You'll notice I fell into a bit of a Chinese drama and historical hole for these last ones! I will try to post as I finish shows so I can give a bit more of a review. Enjoy!

A love so romantic (Cdrama)-Girl pretends to be a long lost granddaughter of the Gu family and falls for the Gu family heir. 8/10 Very funny. The last ten episodes get a bit annoying with dumb amnesia and such, but overall really funny main couple.

The Greatest Love (Kdrama)-An A-list movie star with a heart condition meets former girl group member and now most disliked celebrity. Against all odds, he falls for her. 9/10 This is extremely funny and a bit tropey, but it gets major bonus points for the ending. There's no crazy amnesia or unreasonable misunderstandings. Their dilemma at the end makes sense and wasn't dragged out for too long. There was a bit in the middle where she was trying to reject him that dragged for me and I didn't like the other girl group members very much. But overall, really fun.

The Rebel Princess (Cdrama)-A princess is forced to marry a general turned prince instead of her childhood sweetheart prince. They ultimately fall for each other and endure war, kidnapping, betrayal, and every other kind of misfortune that can happen in a historical drama. 9/10 This drama was refreshing because the couple was so amazing together. They were kind as well as cunning. They were the only characters not seeking power and I just loved the way they worked. It does get a little draggy during some of the palace politics. I also think some of the villians didn't think through their plans. But overall, the leads made the show. Although there are some genuinely heartbreaking moments and too many women committing suicide.

Love Script (Cdrama)- A CEO gets into an accident and believes he's a Prince from the Ming Dynasty. A psychologist is hired and she becomes part of the palace staff in order to treat him. But she begins to fall for him. 8/10 I liked all the characters. It's a really light show and there's a couple of plot twists that ultimately made the lead romance work for me. There were a few too many flashbacks and I found myself skipping through them a lot.

A Girl Like Me (Cdrama)- Ban Hua has three failed engagements, partially because of her blunt manner and explosive temper. She begins getting visions of the future and uses them to save her family from trouble, along with Rong Xia who has his own agenda...but will he be distracted by Ban Hua!? 8.5/10 I really liked this one. The story moved along rather quickly. I love that the Ban family are perfectly happy in their little sphere of life. They adore each other and simply want their family to be happy. The only real negatives are that I don't think some of the villain plots made sense especially toward the end and I thought the last two episodes should have wrapped up the story not made more characters power hungry and foolish. Overall, I really liked it, especially Ban Hua and Rong Xia's banter and courtship.

My little happiness (Cdrama)-An intern lawyer and a successful neurosurgeon who were childhood sweethearts meet again as adults only she never knew his name. Watch the duo fall in love. 8/10 This is a pleasant little ditty with no big problems. The relationship between the main girl and her best friend feels super real to me. I love both main couples. It's a simple sweet sappy love story. There's never any doubt how it will end so just enjoy the sweetness.

Oh! My Sweet Liar! (Cdrama)-Historical- A female painter infiltrates the home of a noble family to paint a copy of a precious item. When her escape goes wrong, she fakes a pregnancy by the family heir to save her life. They make a contract marriage so he can escape an arranged marriage he doesn't want. But there are secrets and plotting people throughout the family home. 8.5/10 I really liked the majority of the show. It was a bit slow the second arc of the show and really the last three eps could have been a bit more streamlined, but I loved the Li family. It was so nice to see the love between the family.

Shopaholic Louis (Kdrama)- A wealthy heir gets amnesia and is found by a poor country girl newly arrived in Seoul to look for her brother. The two fall for each other while searching together. 8.5/10 Super cute. I loved the main couple the whole way through. The side characters grew on me as well. It was a nice sweet story overall.

Love in Time-Cdrama- Writer and a CEO were friends in Jr high but had a falling out. Present day they enter a contract marriage. 8/10 A point bump for 30 minute episodes. The story was sweet and simple with a few pleasant turns. The last episode is a bit dumb. I would've rather just had more epilogue than a faked amnesia plot. I liked the side friendships, but wish the "villain" had a better motivation. Just " I loved him and worked hard for him so he should be mine" obsession got old. The tropes were in full display so avoid if you hate those.

Love and Destiny-Cdrama- A young immortal wanders into the wrong place and awakens the God of War. He discovers a secret about her even she doesn't know. The two fall in love, but bad things happen. Can they overcome destiny with love? 7/10- This one seemed to be a bit long at 60 episodes and it took WAY too long to get started. But by episode 14 or 15 I was completely into the love story and most of the side characters. The two "villains" were annoying but ultimately I understood their choices even if I felt they were immature. Overall, it's good, but a little too slow in some places and the last ten episodes could have given me some more couple moments.

Divorce lawyer in love (Kdrama)- She's a tough as nails divorce lawyer and he's her office manager until she goes to far in a case and her license is suspended. Three years later she's the office manager and he's the lawyer and he sees his chance for some payback.. Enemies to friends to lovers. 8/10 It has its funny moments. I enjoy most of the "case of the week" stories. I thought the resolution to the main antagonist was a bit hand wavy, but overall, solid and enjoyable with mostly fun side characters.

The Sword and the Brocade (Cdrama)- A concubine's daughter marries a Marquis in an arranged marriage. She has to deal with conniving concubines, controlling mother and mother-in-law, as well as a family that doesn't want her around, and a rival family all while trying to continue her embroidery career. 7.5/10 Started out fairly strong but toward the end it felt really drawn out. I feel like the last two plots should have been more combined cause it really dragged the pace of the show down. The characters were good. I liked most of the characters a lot, but a few began to make weird decisions toward the end.

The Eternal Love (Cdrama)- Modern woman sucked to alternate past where she has to share her doppelganger's body. The two with the help of their maid try to figure out what's going on. But things are complicated as each soul is in love with a different prince.,-6/10 The story is okay, although the last four episodes are weird. Chemistry with the leads is fabulous. Really not great production quality. I couldn't get through Season 2.

Eternal Love/Ten Miles of Peach Blossom (Cdrama)- Bai Qian and Ye Hua are star crossed immortals who fall in love in three different but intertwined lives. 9.5/10 Started off slow, then got wonderful about ep 10, then pain and misery for a few eps before back to joy and falling in love and back to pain. But one of the best revenge scenes by Bai Qian! I sort of hated that basically every other couple seems doomed. I tried to watch the pillow book before this and just got bored. I may go back to it someday as I love that couple.

General's Lady (Cdrama)- independent noble sent to marry the "demon" general at the border only to fall in love with him. However there are factions trying to harm them. 9/10 Super light and sweet with lots of kisses. I got a bit bored a little past the middle of the drama when they went back to the capital. But the last several episodes brought me back around and I laughed out loud multiple times. Love all the couples throughout and how it showed there were multiple ways to be a strong woman.