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lesfeldickbiblestudy · 1 year ago

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Through the Bible with Les Feldick LESSON 1 * PART 2 * BOOK 74 CONNECTING THE DOTS OF SCRIPTURE – PART 2 Genesis through Revelation Okay, once again it is good to see everybody back. For those of you out in television, when I say to have them back—they go out and have a coffee break. It takes a little bit to get this many people served and back in here. We always like to make it known, if you’d like to come in sometime and visit us for an afternoon of taping, that we start about 12:30 p.m., and the cameras roll at 1 p.m. We’re usually out about 4:15 - 4:30 p.m. It’s just a nice afternoon. We’ve got a lot of visitors today. In fact, more than I can take time to point out, but we always like to welcome out-of-state folks. Okay, we’re going to keep right on going where we left off in Genesis. We’re just going to make a big picture. That is the way a gentleman put it one time when I was in a class in Florida. He said, “Les, I love the way you fill in the big picture.” Well, that’s the first time I’d ever heard it put that way, but that’s so true. You know, people will call with questions, and I’ll say, “Well, sometimes, you know, God gives us enough credit that we can fill in some of these things, as long as you do it scripturally, and just fill in the big picture.” The other one we like to use is connecting the dots. It all fits if you just compare Scripture with Scripture. So, we’re going to keep going on. After the flood the population starts expanding once again. God has instructed Noah and his three sons and their families to replenish or to fill up the earth, which meant that they were to scatter. Not stay in one place. But, man is always rebellious. Isn’t it amazing? Man never does what God wants him to do. Let’s jump in at chapter 11 verse 1. Genesis 11:1-4b “And the whole earth was of one language, (Now remember, it isn’t the whole world as we know it, but for them.) and of one speech. 2. And it came to pass, as they journeyed from the east, that they found a plain in the land of Shinar; and they dwelt there. 3. And they said one to another, Go to, let us make brick, and burn them thoroughly. And they had brick for stone, and slime for mortar. 4. And they (the population in general) said, Go to, let us build us a city and a tower, whose top may reach unto heaven;…” In other words, it’s going to be a place of worship. Not that they thought they could build a tower to the Heaven of the heavens, but it’d be a place of worship where they could make contact with what they conceived of as God. Genesis 11:4b “…and let us make us a name, lest we be scattered…” Now, do you see the rebellion? In casual reading you miss that. But God said, “Scatter and replenish the earth.” Man says what? We’re not going to. We’re going to stay right here lest we be scattered. All right, then verse 5: Genesis 11:5-6 “And the LORD came down to see the city and the tower, which the children of men builded. 6. And the LORD said, Behold, the people is one, and they have all one language; and this they begin to do; and now nothing will be restrained from them, which they have imagined to do.” Now, don’t just read that casually. On what basis could God say something like that? That whatever they imagined they could do it. Why? They’re not that far from the pre-flood civilization, where you’ve heard me say it once, and I know a lot of people doubt me, but I think they had a technology almost equal to our own just before the flood. Because remember, they started out with a super brain at creation. There was nothing that had deteriorated. And they lived 900 years to use all that brainpower. So when I see evidence that at some time in the ancient past there is evidence of computers and internal combustion engines and maps like you can’t believe, then I have to say, yes, I believe that. I think it was before the flood when they had tremendous technology. All right, so this just makes sense. These are only 200 years

removed, so enough of that technology would have been made available and God said it – there’s just nothing to restrain them that they can’t do,unless He does something drastic, which was to confuse the languages. Now stop and think! What is one of the major reasons that we have had such an explosion of technology in the last 50 years? Well, the whole world has almost again become one language. Because in the scientific world, whether it’s Japan or Europe or America, what is the basic language of science? English. So, we’re just about back full circle. Like here, when they had the advantage of one language, there was almost nothing to stop their ability to invent and so forth. And so the Lord said, “There is nothing that they can’t do.” So He had to interrupt it by confusing the languages. Now remember, time-wise we’ve got the Flood 1,600 years after Adam, and then 200 years after Noah, we have the Tower of Babel. All right, now we’re going to skip the next 200 years and jump all the way down in this same chapter 11 to verse 31. Here we’re at about 2,000 years after Adam and 2,000 years before Christ. Abraham stands at the midpoint between creation and Christ’s first coming. Genesis 11:31-32 “And Terah (the father of Abraham) took Abram his son and Lot the son of Haran his son’s son, and Sarai his daughter-in-law, his son Abram’s wife; and they went forth with them from Ur of the Chaldees; (Now the Chaldees, remember, were the people of Babylon.) to go into the land of Canaan; (Which is down at the eastern end of the Mediterranean.) and they came unto Haran, (Which is up north of present day Lebanon in present day Syria.) and dwelt there. (That’s where God stopped them.) 32. And the days of Terah were two hundred and five years: and Terah died in Haran.” All right, before we go any further, I want you to jump ahead with me to Joshua the last chapter. I think that’s chapter 24. Because I want you to see what kind of a family this was before God intervened. Remember now, that the Tower of Babel began 200 years before. This meant that the whole then-known population had come under the influence of Nimrod, who was the instigator of paganism. The other names of Nimrod are probably Zeus and Osiris and some of those other pagan names. They all referred to Nimrod. He was the beginning of all pagan religions and idolatry. All right, so this little family that we’re dealing with was no different. Joshua 24 verse 2 and remember the setting. This is Israel now after having gone into the Promised Land. Joshua has helped them occupy it, fought all the battles. It’s time for Joshua to move on and die and join the forefathers. But look what he says. Joshua 24:2 “And Joshua saith unto all the people, Thus saith the LORD God of Israel, Your fathers (your forefathers) dwelt on the other side of the river in old time (I think that’s the Euphrates River.) even Terah, the father of Abraham, the father of Nachor: and they (The whole family what?) served other gods.” Plural. So, what were they? Pagan idolaters. Every one of them. All right, now naturally, especially in the Orient, who is the head of the family? Well, the patriarch, the father. In this case, it was Terah. Now how far do you think Abraham would have gotten separating from idolatry as long as the old patriarch stood there with his power over them? Well, it probably wouldn’t have happened. So, what does God wait for? He waits for Terah to die. All right, now we can move into Genesis chapter 12. This is the way God works, you know. Sometimes He moves in miraculously, but on the other hand, sometimes He just lets things take their course. So now we come into chapter 12. Terah is dead and gone, but they are still living up there in Haran. They’re out of Ur, but they’re in Haran, which is between Ur and Canaan. Chapter 12 verse 1 and now we can pick up our timeline on the board as well. Genesis 12:1 “Now the LORD had said unto Abram, (back there in chapter

11) Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father’s house, unto a land that I will shew thee:” Now why is God laying down those stipulations? To separate them from idolatry. From paganism. He doesn’t say take the family with you, but rather separate from them. Well, what does Paul write? Same thing. “Be separate.” What does Revelation say? “Come out from among them.” Why? Because a believer cannot consort with the unbelieving world day in and day out and have any spiritual growth. It’s impossible. Now, we’re in the real world. We know that. But you still cannot mingle with the unbelievers and have any spiritual growth. So the concept is always the same: separate yourselves from the gross, unbelieving world. Verse 1 again: Genesis 12:1-2a “Now the LORD had said unto Abram, Get thee out of thy country, and from they kindred, and from thy father’s house, unto a land that I will shew thee: (Now here come the promises and the prophecy.) 2. And I will make of thee a great nation,…” Now we think of Israel today as nothing but just a little tiny nothing in the affairs of the world. But you’ve got to remember, back here in antiquity people were still tribal. There were no real national entities as yet. So, this little Nation of Israel is going to become one of the greatest tribes in that part of the world, before everything starts exploding around them, if I can put it that way. All right, so they are going to become a great nation in the eyes of antiquity. Even though in today’s world they were pretty small. Genesis 12:2b-3 “… And I will bless thee, and make thy name great; and thou shalt be a blessing: 3. And I will bless them that bless thee, (Now this is a promise that holds today just as much as it did 2,000 years before Christ.) I will bless them that bless thee, and curse him that curseth thee; (Now, here comes the prophecy of all prophecy.) and in thee (in Abraham) shall all families of the earth be blessed." Well, how can you and I living clear up here in the 21st century, clear over on the other side of the world, be blessed by the blessing given to Abraham? Through the work of the cross. Through this Book. Every word of this Book, yes, including Luke, is written by Jews (Romans 3:1-2). That’s the role of the Nation of Israel. Through the Nation of Israel not only came this Book with all of its prophetic utterances, but though the Nation of Israel came the Messiah, the Savior of the world. That’s what this prophecy is talking about. That through Abraham every nation on earth will be exposed to the glorious gospel of Jesus Christ, because nationally speaking He was a Jew. You see that? All right, now this is prophecy. This is what I’m always maintaining, that there is not another book on this planet that could even come close to this one because of the prophecies. Oh, I want people to know that. The Koran has no prophecy. The Book of Mormon has no prophecy. All these other religious books of the world cannot prophesy events hundreds if not thousands of years before they happen. But this one does. And it’s not pie in the sky, because at the first advent, as I’ve said over and over on this program, over 300 distinct prophecies that were written hundreds of years before were fulfilled at Christ’s first coming. Otherwise, Zechariah—let me just give you one example. I hope I can find it. Sometimes I feel like I’m walking into a buzz saw, because I may not find it when I want it. But I’m thinking it is Zechariah chapter 9. Zechariah chapter 9. Now this is written almost 500 years before it happened, and this isn’t something that happens every day that someone would say, well, that’s just a shot in the dark. No. This was a unique event. Oh, this is so thrilling. And this is just one out of hundreds that were fulfilled to the last jot and tittle. All got it? Zechariah 9:9 “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; (That’s Jerusalem and the Jews.) shout, O daughter of Jerusalem: behold, thy King (We’re going to be talking about that now.

This is the promise in Genesis 12 that out of the Nation of Israel will come a king and a kingdom.) cometh unto thee: he is just, and having salvation; lowly, and riding upon an ass, (or a donkey) and upon a colt the foal of an ass.” Well, when did that happen? On the Triumphal Entry. Fulfilled to the last jot and tittle that He came riding into Jerusalem, off the Mount of Olives, across the Valley of Kidron, and up to the Temple Mount on the colt of a donkey. And it was written five hundred years before. King Cyrus, the king of Persia, was named by a Jewish prophet a hundred and fifty years before he was born. Now, I can take you back to Psalm 22, just for an example now, so that you’ll know what I’m talking about that this is the only Book on earth that can do this. Even the best of the soothsayers, the best of them, can’t get over 50%. That’s their batting average. The best of them and that, of course, is guesswork. That’s all it is. But this is so obvious. Psalm 22 verse 7 and I’ll let you judge for yourself. Who are we talking about? This, of course, was written by King David. And when was King David? A thousand years before Christ. Now, look at these descriptive words in verse 7. Psalm 22:7-8 “All they that see me laugh me to scorn: they shoot out the lip, they shake the head, saying, 8. He trusted on the LORD that he would deliver him: let him deliver him, seeing he delighted in him.” Who are we talking about? Isn’t that exactly what they said of Jesus as He was on the way to the cross? Well, if He’s who He says He was, let Him call ten thousand angels. See, this is all prophesied. This is what would happen. All right, verse 9: Psalm 22:9-10 “But thou art he that took me out of the womb: thou didst make me hope when I was upon my mother’s breasts. 10. I was cast upon thee from the womb: thou art my God from my mother’s belly.” What’s David talking about? The Messiah. All right, now verse 11. Psalm 22:11-12 “Be not far from me; for trouble is near: for there is none to help. (Now these, of course, are the mind and thoughts of Christ as He was on the cross or going to it.) 12. Many bulls have compassed me: strong bulls of Bashan have beset me round.” In other words, all the Roman army and everything that pertains to it. Psalms 22:13 “They gaped (or stared) upon me with their mouths, as a ravening and a roaring lion.” Picture the crowds as He was hanging on the cross. Now, if you know anything about crucifixion, this next verse is a typical description of the suffering. Psalms 22:14a “I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint:…” See, that’s what crucifixion did. As they hung there, their bones would literally be pulled from their sockets. Psalms 22:14b-15a “…my heart is like wax; it is melted in the midst of my being. 15. My strength is dried up like a potsherd; (a piece of clay) and my tongue cleaveth to my jaws;…” Okay, stop a minute. What was one of the seven statements from the cross? Remember when He said, “Behold, I thirst.” This is why. This is a graphic description of crucifixion one thousand years before it happened. Psalms 22:16 “For dogs have compassed me: the assembly of the wicked have enclosed me: (Who are the dogs? The Romans. Who were the rest of them? The taunting Jews. But now don’t stop there.) they pierced my hands and my feet.” You see that, all written a thousand years before it happened. Verse 18: Psalm 22:18 “They part my garments among them, and cast lots upon my vesture.” Did they do it? Well, of course they did. You know that. They cast lots for His tunic, the one that was supposedly woven without a seam. They cast lots for it. All prophesied. Now that’s just a little sampling. The whole Old Testament is scattered with those kinds of statements. No other book on earth can do that. All right, now let’s go back to Genesis chapter 12. You got all that free for nothing. I wasn’t planning on that. But see, this is what we have to understand, that this Book is so supernatural.

There is no way we can doubt that it is inspired of God, even though men wrote it. All right, back to chapter 12 and the call of Abraham, as we call it. And I want you to see verse 3 again. Genesis 12:3a “I will bless them that bless thee, and curse him that curseth thee;…” And history supports that. Any nation or empire that turns on the Jews is going to sooner or later go down to their doom. I think Germany is still suffering the results of Hitler’s hatred for the Jewish people. All right, but the best part of all is this last statement of the verse. Genesis 12:3b “…and in thee (In Abraham, because out of Abraham would come Israel, and out of Israel would come the Messiah, and the Messiah would become the Savior of the world.) shall all the families of the earth be blessed.” Now, that’s the beginning of our timeline as we’ve got it on the board. And now we find that from Abraham all the way up, all the way through, and we’re going to follow these from Abraham to the appearance of the Nation of Israel under Moses. Then comes David and then come the prophets. In between we have the Babylonian invasion, the destruction of the Temple, the exile to Babylon, and then all the way up through Christ’s first advent (we’ll be looking at the details in time), then the crucifixion, then 40 days with the Twelve, and then He ascends back to Glory. Then, according to all the Old Testament and including the gospels and the first eight chapters of Acts, everything was pointing to the next big event in human history, which would be the seven years of what we call Tribulation and the horrors of it, which would trigger the Second Coming. And then in would come that glorious heaven on earth 1,000 year kingdom. And that’s something that very few church people know anything about. I am aghast at how few church people know anything of this earthly kingdom. You know, I had someone send me a book awhile back, and I know the fellow meant well. He had written it. He had signed it and sent it to me, but what a travesty. I don’t remember the exact title, but the idea of the book was what’s Heaven going to be like? My, a book that thick. What’s Heaven going to be like? Well, I knew right away it had to be a lie, because there is nothing in this Book that tells us what our Heaven, the real Heaven, is going to be like, except for one word. Glorious! You’ve heard me say it. It’s going to be glorious. That’s all we know. So, what did the guy write about? The earthly kingdom. Every reference that he used was a reference to this glorious kingdom, where the lion will lie down with the lamb and so on and so forth; and tremendous production, with every man living under his own fig tree. Well, those are all things concerning this earthly kingdom. Yes, it’s going to be heaven on earth, but it’s not the Heaven of the heavens that we think of. And this is where people are what I call ignorant of this Book. And it’s sad. There’s no reason for it. It’s because they don’t read. They won’t study. They won’t compare Scripture. And like I’m learning to tell them when they try to make a point of argument, the only reason you don’t see it is because you don’t want to. And that’s what it’s all down to. They don’t want to see. No, they’ll never see it. But if they want to, it’s as plain as plain can be. All right, so let’s just take a brief run at Abraham and the Nation of Israel coming on the scene, as I always put it. Then after they become a nation and they get into the Promised Land, let’s jump up to Exodus chapter 19. Oh, my goodness, this half-hour has gone already, and I just got started. Exodus chapter 19, now Israel has become a nation. The twelve sons of Jacob have made their appearance. They went down into Egypt, remember, because Joseph was sold into slavery. He was down there and became God’s divine appointment. Pharaoh gave him authority to save the grain through the seven years of plenty to be ready for the seven years of famine.

That’s the setting. All right, because of that the famine came to Canaan, and Jacob and the other sons of the family were about starving to death. When they hear there is grain in Egypt, old Jacob sent the sons, all but Benjamin, down to Egypt. Well, when they get to Egypt to draw their grain, unknown to them who is parceling out the grain? Their brother Joseph. You know, I was reading a book, Carla, yes, I got a good book a while back. It’s from a secular point of view, but yet it just makes it so graphically plain how that Joseph was in total control all of Egypt, especially in the parceling out of the grain during those seven years of famine. So, when the brothers came over from Canaan to Egypt, he was the one that had to deal with them. Well, he immediately recognized them, if you remember, but they didn’t know him. Well, out of that situation then, the whole family is moved into Egypt under the Pharaoh and Joseph as the second man in Egypt. So Israel, as the Scripture says, “became a Nation down in Egypt.” All right, then after 700-800 years, God raises up Moses. You know the story. Moses goes in and confronts Pharaoh. After the plagues we’ve got Israel coming out of Egypt. All right, they go to Mount Sinai—we’ll pick this up in the next half hour. Remember, God makes promises to that Nation concerning the next several thousand years of human history. All prophesied. All legitimate. And even though it hasn’t all happened yet, we can rest assured that it surely will.

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kaxenart · 2 years ago

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What counts as an acceptable violence is a topic you can get like 100000 different opinions upon.

Lejeune tends to give the vibe he does not like looking at anything he's gotta kill in the eye, but given that he is like an engineering and artillery soldier, it's not like he is against violence in general.

But he claims he considered fighting Gustav IV and the royal bodyguards when a meeting between Gustav and Marshal Brune wasn't going well.

Because basically every Alternate History that isn't "what if the evil racists won?" is better (seriously man, why do people have such a boner for "what if the Nazis won?" and "what if the confederate south won?"), Alternate History where Lejeune fuckin' stabs Gustav and becomes King of Sweden because reasons™.

#louis francois lejeune #louis-francois lejeune #I feel like this is only amusing to myselg #but there are tons of people on the internet so maybe it will amuse someone else #marshal brune #King Lejeune AU #not enough brainpower to read more books right now #so deranged AUs it is

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i-need-to-touch-grassss · 2 years ago

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Hello!

May I ask for general hcs for sans the skeleton? You can delete this, if not.

Of course! I'll go check the back, just a moment!

warnings: none, it's all fluff

✧ GENERAL HCS FOR SANS THE SKELETON ✧

✧ he is such a lazybones, so you can expect to see him lying on the couch, surrounded in fluffy pillows and blankets (it's his favorite type of material, fight me)

and he just makes grabby hands at you and tells you to lay with him (for a skeleton, he is surprisingly cozy)

✧ he will find any, and I mean ANY excuse to stay in bed

and sometimes they're normal, believable excuses

then you have some days where he is too tired to put brainpower into thinking of a response and you get the first thing he thought of

"Sans, come on, we need to do things today..." "nope, sorry I can't get out of bed right now" "well, why not?" "Uh...because I'm a hallucination......"

and que him (barely) holding up his arms, and wiggling his phalanges ominously while he trails off into silence (you totally caught him off guard with that question)

✧ if you can cook/bake, he loves eating your food

and if you ask him nicely enough, you might just get him to cook/ bake with you

✧ expect compliments randomly, like just completely out of nowhere

here you are, just sitting down and reading a book or something and all of a sudden, "you're so fantastic" and you look at him like "where is this coming from?" and he just stares at you with this big, goofy grin on his face

✧ PUN. WARS.

he would so totally love it if you did pun wars with him (don't expect to win though)

I'm sorry it isn't much, at all, but it's all we seemed to have in stock at the moment (I'll probably edit this later and add more to it if I think of something else)

#thank you for requesting :DDDD #bro this is so rushed im sorry #i started this at 8 am and rn its 10 am #plus i had no ideas #sans reminds me of such a silly little funny man #writing him is fun #sans x reader #undertale #undertale x reader #ut sans #ut sans x reader

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moemoemammon · 3 years ago

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Ok. I need to get this idea out to someone. Solomon and mc are messing with potions for class and he accidentally gives mc a “youth” potion that makes you look younger. It turns mc into like a 4 year old for like a couple of days. What do you think would be the demon brothers (any) reaction to babysitting their master? What would they do? Idk i think it would be a little funny.

You’ve Gotta Be KIDding me, MC!

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

He'll be exchanging words with that sorcerer bastard later. You can bet on that.

Lucifer doesn't take kindly to the idea of MC having run ins with magic in general, but at least this seems to be on the tamer side of the magical spectrum. And he had to admit, it's sort of amusing.

He intentionally watches you try to handle things on your own. Be it reaching for things too high up, stubbornly carrying things too heavy for your tiny arms, or making messes when you try to tidy up, Lucifer waits patiently until you ask for help (or until he can't take it anymore).

Treats you like he always does, despite your size. He doesn't talk to you like a child, or try to force toys and nap times onto you, but may or may not tease you when it's only the two of you. After all, you may look like a child, but that doesn't mean you are one. It's still funny to harass you a little, though.

"As independent as you may be, please refrain from trying to climb up onto the counter. If you need something, ask one of my brothers, or myself. If that isn't obvious enough, perhaps a 'time-out' is in order?"

Mammon

When Mammon recovers from laughing for twenty minutes, (and also making threats on Solomon's life) he then decides to take a billion pictures of you. Now calls you 'munchkin' and variations of it.

And if you thought he was clingy before, just wait till you see how he is now. You're ACTUALLY helpless and vulnerable. I mean, you'd hardly make an appetizer for a random demon! So Mammon's gotta keep an eye on you. Maybe even a toddler leash-

Unintentionally treats you like an actual child. His older brother mode kicks in, and he finds himself taking care of you as naturally as breathing. Mammon? Being responsible?? It's more likely than you think.

He hands you a cup of juice before you can say 'I'm thirsty'. He'll slide over some sliced up fruits before your stomach has a chance to growl. You're tired? No kidding. That's why he's got a blanket and pillow on the sofa for you.

"Where do ya think you're goin', short stack? Nowhere without ME, that's where! I already told ya, if there's somethin' ya need, just tell me!" "Huh? I'm spoilin' ya too much? S-so what if I am?!"

Levi

Solomon came in with a child in tow that looked a hell of a lot like MC, and this man nearly had a heart attack. There's no way... did those two have a secret love child?! Th-that's just-!! Oh, it's only MC.

WAIT A MINUTE...TH-THIS IS....! ISNT THIS JUST LIKE 'DETECTIVE C*NAN'? Uwaaah... Just look at you! You're still just as smart as before, but you've become super small! Talk about the ultimate gap moe!!!

Levi isn't a big fan of the idea of tiny, sticky hands touching his things, so he's glad you've still got your normal brainpower. That being said, he finds himself talking to you normally. Maybe even easier than before!

It kinda throws him off that you guys can't do the things you'd normally do together. Your fingers don't have their usual dexterity so playing games is a challenge, and your attention span is a little shorter so these TSL marathons are killing you. But have no fear, Levi knows a ton of other things you could do together! He won't let something like this spoil his time with his dear Henry!

"If you can't use the controller, let's try something that doesn't need one! I've got a new Ruri Hana VR game with REAL motion and voice tracking! If you say the spells out loud, you'll cast them in game! Ah, and it auto-adjusts to the player's height, so there's nothing to worry about!"

Satan

HES DOING HIS BEST NOT TO LAUGH. SATAN WILL HANDLE THIS WITH POISE AND GRACE, BUT MAN....

Watching you struggle to enter the House of Lamentation in your oversized RAD uniform nearly sent him to the stratosphere. He inhaled tea when you almost tripped over your blazer and had to get a couple of slaps on the back from Asmo.

Does his best to find a cure for your 'little' problem, but the most that can be done is waiting it out. In the meantime, would you like him to read you a story? Large books are probably difficult on your tiny hands.

Constantly catches himself treating you like a tot. He's not trying to, but he can't help himself when he sees your round eyes staring up at him, or when he watches you try to climb up onto an armchair.

"Up we go- There. It must be hard for you, having to climb up into the chairs like that. I've got a stool if you'd like to use it? Though, I don't mind if you sit on my lap, too." "Hm? I'm embarrassing you? I-I didn't realize how overzealous I was being. Ehem...."

Asmo

Oh that Solomon and his silly spells and potions, always making trouble! It's just one of his many charm points! And seeing as there are no permanent consequences from this harmless mishap, Asmo's enjoying it to the fullest.

Can you blame him? You're SOOOO cute~! So tiny and adorable! Why would've know that was possible?? Look this way, MC! He wants to take some pictures of you! Lowkey uses you as a photo op prop

He used to work part time at a daycare, you know? Asmo's great with kids! But that also means he's treating you like one. There's personalized snacks, cute little nicknames, and he's already gone and bought you a week's worth of clothes. Nobody tell him it'll only last a day-

He can be a little annoying with the baby talk and all the little activities he's planned for you, but you can tell he's enjoying himself.

"MC, look~! I've got plenty of ribbons to decorate your hair with! I'll let you choose your favorites, and then we can set out in town!" "Hm? Where are we going? To the playground, silly! You must be dying for a play date after being stuck in this dreary house all day, right?"

Beel

He was kinda teetering between whether or not he should throw Solomon across the yard like a football when he saw him carrying a teeny MC, but all was forgiven when he learned it was an accident.

Has now designated himself the permanent MC carrier. Your feet will never touch the ground so long as you're a child. And it's no problem for the likes of Beel, when you're as light as a feather! That makes him a little more conscious about being careful with you though-

Be it piggybacking or carrying you in his arms, he hasn't released you since he's spotted you. And don't think he's forgotten about feeding you. Beel's also taken your meal prep upon himself. You'll prefer things that've easy to eat, right? Though it kills gum to give you smaller portions than usual.... it feels cruel...

Somewhere between babying you and treating you as usual. He speaks normally to you as he always does, but prioritizes your needs over everything else. He wants to make sure you're well taken care of until this potion wears off.

"You're sure you've had enough to eat? I know I gave you a snack earlier, but... to think you really can't eat as much as before.. I'll talk to Solomon again. It must be torture to have such a tiny stomach, I'll do my best to get you back to normal."

Belphie

There's obvious opportunity here, and Belphegor won't let it go to waste. (No not for murder)

He's getting a kick about your new mini mode. How's the weather down there? Do you need him to pick you up so you can reach the high shelves? Don't worry, he'll get you a sippy cup.

When the teasing has settled down, he pays attention to a more pressing matter: you're now the perfect side for cuddling. You're a living hot water bottle, not too big, not too small, tiny and soft and adorable. Er, he won't mention that last part though.

Anyway, Belphie thinks a little kid like you should go on and take a nap now. It's exhausting having such short legs and wandering around the house all day, right? He gets it. You look tired and he knows the solution.

"Ah, you're just as cozy as I thought you'd be... Though, it feels kind of weird holding you like this. It's like holding a stuffed animal, but you're not nearly as cute." "Pfft, what's that face for? Sorry, sorry, I was only teasing."

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give-soup-please · 2 years ago

Note

Previous anon here

I understand. Hell, I even get your perspective, at first you were Just Some Guy, but then I saw more of you. You're the guy who really likes soup, who likes analysing and enjoying fan content, who ran away from home. The guy who lived a life worth considering a story in of itself. When someone makes something that I enjoy, I feel happy and associate that happiness with them. I always rejoiced whenever I saw your comments, I love hearing what authors think of their works, or just commentary on it. Just. The person behind the art puts a lot of the art into context.

And I'll be honest, I've read your response over and over again. I don't think it's still sunk in that this blog has an expiration date. Despite that, I feel pressured by myself to say "oh, you can still think of the characters, you can still love them", but considering your ride or die artistry, I feel more negative will come from positive there. (Apologies if this is a bit all over the place, it is roughly 4am.)

Just. I care about you. I feel emotions for you. I see a you behind the curtain of words that you display, and I care. I feel comforting warmth when you post, showing you're alive. I feel conflicted and bittersweet about this whole situation, and I feel hopeless yet hopeful that there'll be a happy ending to this. I want to say that you can walk your own path, but I don't know enough to say that. I want and wish to be able to help or know what to say for comfort, but instead it's just this jambling mess. I'll miss you, and I'll be concerned for you. What I want to do is pull you close, hug you tight enough to make all the bad problems be squeezed out, and work together on the ones that can't be squeezed out. But I am a stranger on the Internet staying up well past their bedtime. And you are another stranger on the Internet, probably sleeping much more consistently than me. I wish I could end this on something thoughtful and daring and caring, but I'm nearly passing out every time I close my eyes. So, know that you are loved, even if it's the most distant, platonic love you've ever seen.

See ya soupman 🍜🍜🍜

I've kept this in my inbox for a while now, just smiling every time I read it. I'm glad that you and others have gotten joy out of what I've produced over the summer, and I'm doubly glad that people are enjoying the glimpses they see of the person behind the blog.

The relationship I have between my hobbies, my academic life, and the characters I love dearly is a complicated one. Even now, despite the fact that I've been thinking through a response for this for 2+ weeks, I still have trouble defining it. I will always love TSP, there's no way out of it, and I believe that the narrator is one of those exceptionally rare characters who I will always enjoy thinking about and rotating in my head. That won't go away, despite my attempts to suppress how I feel about the game. Believe me, I tried. It didn't work, the narrator lives rent free in my head and is outrageously smug about it. Even now, if I concentrate, I can see him grinning, kicking his feet back, and refusing to go. And frankly, I love him for it. Smug bastard.

The blog can't continue, I already made that determination when I started looking at what being a full time student means. It's a shame, but I only have the brainpower to focus on one at a time. And rather than keep stringing people along and have them wait and hope I get to their request, I decided it would be easier on all of us to make a clean break.

Me going off to college is... technically a happy ending in its own right. It's a matter of perspective, really. I'm majoring in English, my long standing passion. The thing it feels like I was born to do. I wrote my first story when I was five, devoured my first analysis essay at twelve, and I was set on the road for wonderful things. I get to read books and write all day, and you can bet that I'm looking forward to it. On top of that, if I keep my GPA high enough, I've got guaranteed housing for the next 2-3 years, depending on how I play my cards. (That's a long story by itself, a combination of unexpected financial help and scholarships.) As a technically homeless youth living in the most expensive state in America, that's huge. Housing is so hard to come by, and I'm incredibly lucky to have the resources I do. It's either go to college, or risk going to the streets. I know which choice I'm making.

While the direction my life is taking isn't the happy fairytale ending everyone hopes for, it's definitely not a tragedy either. It's a complicated transition between one phase of my life and another. There's grief and bitterness and sorrow, but also a lot of joy and excitement.

There are lovely books in this ivory tower, and the gilded cage is comfortable. I am genuinely content, now that the grief is starting to pass. I mean- they're offering a 'video games and culture' class. C'mon, I'm going to take that for the pure excuse and joy to rant about TSP in essay format. Hell, I'll do my dissertation on it down the line, if the chance ever presents itself. Even within complicated situations, there are ways to find joy and entertainment. I'm planning on taking fun, easy A classes wherever I can. Life will be good, because I'm going to make it that way, even within my limitations.

I appreciate your words, whoever you are. I do not know you, I do not recognize your writing style, but your words are seen and appreciated. Hugs, both physical and virtual, are appreciated too.

I'm wishing you well, anon, just as much as you wish it for me.

#personal #not tsp related #22 days between now and the end #how about that

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alluringjae · 4 years ago

Text

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)

⤑ 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.”

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Text

Hungry Like The Wolf | soft!dark!Ari Levinson x reader

summary: when you need ari’s help for a secret mission with the CIA, he expects gratitude from you— and he wants a lot more than just a thank you card.

word count: nearly 6.5k

warnings: smut (dub con/coercion/sex as bartering tool), oral sex (f receiving) and vaginal sex, overstimulation, possessiveness/very very slight yandere vibes?, some violence and gun use, mentions of human trafficking/warfare, religious discussions and traditions but not particularly orthodox ones, vague discussions of sexism and misogyny with implied religious background, overall just lots of global politics and all that fun stuff

(a/n: I went ahead and wrote the hebrew and arabic in english lettering because tumblr doesn’t support right to left text so just a heads up. my arabic is very weak so I apologize if there are any errors.)

Taking a deep breath, you ran through your pitch in your head again. Sure, you’d had plenty of time to go over it on the plane, but one last recitation couldn’t hurt, right? Unable to stall any longer, you turned the knob and entered Ari Levinson’s office.

You’d heard he was good-looking but his appearance still surprised you; his long hair and thick beard made him look like he’d fit in with a rock band better than an intelligence agency, and his half-buttoned shirt put his Star of David necklace and muscled, hairy chest on display.

He must have caught your gaze trailing down because he smirked at you, making your cheeks feel a bit warm.

“Mr. Levinson,” you greeted as you looked up to his face again.

He greeted you as ‘Ms.’ instead of ‘Agent,’ but you let it slide since you were about to ask him for quite the favor. When he motioned for you to take a seat across from him, you did so with a nod and a quick smoothing of your skirt.

“So, what can I help you with?” he prompted.

This was the easy part; this was the part you’d rehearsed a thousand times. “There is a group of trafficked women and girls who have been rescued from all over— Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Kuwait— and gathered in Riyadh. We are working on a plan to move them to Cyprus and, eventually, Greece where they will be accepted into a camp there. Maybe they’ll end up in the States at some point, if we can swing it, but… Cyprus is step one.”

Ari nodded, listening to your story with more patience than anyone else had so far.

“As you can imagine, it would be a lot easier to move through Jordan and Israel and use your ports, rather than go around through Egypt or Syria…” He stared at you expectantly as you trailed off, and you cleared your throat before finishing: "The CIA would greatly appreciate Mossad's cooperation in the movement of these refugees."

"How much would they appreciate it?"

You paused, unsure what he meant. "Um, quite a lot, I'm sure…"

"I just mean that we have missions the CIA could be a useful assist for, too,” he clarified, interlacing his fingers and resting his hands on his lap. “You guys have a lot more resources than we do. If we help you out, is this going to be an allyship we can rely on?"

You swallowed dryly, pondering if there was a way to get out of this before you sighed and slumped down in your chair, leaning a little closer to him. "Alright, I have to be honest with you: it's not really the CIA that's asking for your help."

"Then who is?"

"Me. Just me. I'm the only one who believes in this mission; I'm the only one fighting for these people. The CIA won't help you because they won't even help me and I work for them."

He slumped his shoulders a little bit. "Then I'm not sure if I can afford to say yes to you."

"Please," you implored, "I know I can't offer you as much as they can, but I'll do whatever I can to make this work. Please," you repeated as you laid your hand over his, noticing the way his expression shifted a bit, "help me."

"I've been the one person fighting for a mission before," he remembered, voice a little softer. "I know how hard it is to go it alone."

You smiled gently at him.

"And, I know how far I would've gone to get my people to safety."

His hand flipped around suddenly and grabbed yours tightly, pulling you closer as you gasped.

"How far will you go?"

You shivered, the darkness in his eyes burning right through you even when you tried to look away. "Mr. Levinson, I—"

"Call me Ari," he instructed gruffly, grip tightening around your wrist until you yelped softly.

"Ari," you corrected, "I have money—"

"Don't want it."

"I can offer you my assistance in—"

"Don't need it."

"Tell me what you need,” you requested softly.

"I need to know you're gonna show me this 'great appreciation' you promised,” he answered quickly. “I need to know that if I take care of you, then you'll take care of me."

You gulped but nodded. "O-of course…"

"Good."

He released you from his grip and stood up, smiling at you like nothing had even happened.

"Pleasure doing business with you, madam."

You stood up and left his office in a haze, unsure if what had just happened was a dream or reality. But, sure enough, he showed up the next day where you’d told him to meet you, and brought some money and fake passports that you desperately needed. Frankly, just having a man around was going to make things smoother for you, even if it was a white man who didn’t exactly blend in by any stretch of the imagination. Seeing him again the next day only reminded you how big he was, tall but moreso heavy with muscle; he looked pretty cramped in his tiny coach seat on the plane to Dubai (your connecting stop where you’d spend the night before flying out to Riyadh).

“Bloody mary, please,” he requested from the stewardess with a gentle nod, turning to you.

“Uh, just water, thanks,” you ordered quickly with a tilted smile. You had brought a book to read, but Ari insisted on barraging you with personal questions about your job, your personal life, your favorite things— he seemed fascinated by the most mundane things, and disinterested in giving his own backstory.

Of course you considered that it wasn’t a great idea to tell him so much about yourself, let him in your head and under your skin. But then again, you’d put your trust in him enough for the mission, so you ought to trust him completely, right?

So why did his stare send shivers up your spine?

There was room for you and Ari at a CIA safehouse outside Dubai; it wasn’t exactly luxurious or anything, but at least you weren’t going to have to share a room… or a bed.

Normally staying in a safehouse meant sharing common areas with a random assortment of other agents, but it being a Friday night in Dubai meant they were all out enjoying the local nightlife while you two stayed in. Hoping to review a game plan for the mission with him, you found Ari’s door open, peeking around to see him on his knees on the floor, a candle burning before him, and his hands raised to cover his eyes and face.

“Shema Yisrael,” he sung to himself below his breath, “Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Ehad…”

He jumped a little when he uncovered and opened his eyes only to find you standing there. “Shabbat Shalom,” you greeted.

“Shabbat Shalom,” he nodded back.

“I’m sorry you’re forced to take your Shabbat alone,” you apologized, “and that there’s nobody other than me to appreciate your vocal chops.”

His cheeks tinged pink at that. “It’s all part of the sacrifices we make for our missions, eh?”

“Then I suppose you don’t mind that you’ll be doing plenty of work tomorrow,” you presumed.

“You probably realized by now that I’m not actually so traditional,” he chuckled, extinguishing the candle and standing up. “I work on the sabbath quite a lot.”

“I hear work is permitted if it is needed to save a life.”

He smiled, but he looked a little sad; maybe not sad, but tired. “With me, it always is.”

The silence was thick as you tried to reconcile that this was the same man that had grabbed and threatened you— was it a threat? You couldn’t even tell anymore. Apparently he wasn’t going to take whatever it was that he wanted until you’d finished the mission, and that should’ve made it easier to procrastinate your worry, but the extra time to ponder what it was actually going to be only brought further anxiety.

Of course, you had an idea of what he was going to ask of you, but the fact that nothing too untoward had happened in his office when you first met him was throwing you off. In that moment, you were just waiting for him to tell you to get on your knees and show him how bad you wanted these women rescued, but he didn’t. Wouldn’t have been the first time somebody tried to bribe you into sex; it would’ve been the first time, however, that you actually considered doing it.

Now, the anticipation just made it worse; you were working with him every day and he always acted normal, as if there wasn’t this looming threat of whatever favor he was going to ask from you in return.

Once you actually got to work the next day, it was easier not to think about that. You barely had any extra brainpower to think about anything except survival and extraction. Still, each time you looked at him only to find him already looking at you, your hands shook a little.

“You’ve been driving for 10 hours, you’re sure you don’t want me to take the wheel?” you offered, watching him blink a few times to clear his vision.

“Not worth getting arrested,” he frowned.

“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”

“Not worth the risk of getting caught. And I don’t know about you, but if I get arrested here, I’ll probably be killed, too.”

You chewed your lip as you appreciated that it was probably worth avoiding as much trouble as possible. It’s not like the CIA was popular in these parts, either, and for good reason.

“What’s that up ahead?” he asked, leaning further forward against the steering wheel and squinting.

“Um,” you stalled as you unfolded the paper map in your lap, “I’m… not sure.”

“Looks like a barricade,” he announced, and it did; a gate with two guards and barbed wire on either side.

“There isn’t supposed to be a stop here,” you reminded him as you frantically shuffled around the map, making sure you were where you thought you were and that there wasn’t a mark indicating a vehicle stop on the road.

“What do we do?” he asked, looking around as if he was considering veering off the path even though that would be equally dangerous.

“There isn’t supposed to be a stop here,” you repeated, more anxiously.

“Well, there is,” he replied, his own agitation clearly increasing, “so we’ll have to go through it.”

“They’re going to pull us over.”

“Probably,” he admitted.

“And they will search the back of the truck.”

“I’d be surprised if they didn’t. How well do you think they’re gonna take it when they see eighty-something women packed like sardines?”

You chuckled a little even though you were anything but amused. “Um, not good.”

As the men at the stop waved to signal your car to slow down, Ari sighed a little. "I'll ask once again: what do we do?"

"Act natural," you suggested quickly as you lifted the scarf draped around your head to cover your nose and mouth.

Ari slowed down to a stop, lowering the window to talk to the officer outside and putting on a fake English accent. “How can I help you, sir?”

“Identification please,” he requested sternly. Ari smiled as he grabbed his and your passports, handing them over through the window. It was a long, awkward moment as he flipped through the thick papers slowly, his partner leaning down to look through your window but never taking his hands off his gun. “What brings you out here?” the man finally asked.

“My wife and I operate a restaurant in Jordan, and we get most of our equipment here because the workmanship is better,” Ari explained. “Just passing through with our new stoves and oven hood.”

The officer glanced back over your truck, his expression mostly unreadable but overall not necessarily friendly-looking. “Could you step out of the vehicle please?”

“Hal hdha daruri?” you asked quickly; Is this necessary?

“Alsamt,” he replied in a hiss; Silence.

Ari looked around like he was thinking but nodded and reached for the handle to his door. You did the same, the second guard stepping out of your way so you could swing open the rusted metal and step out.

The men guided for you to circle the car with them, stopping at the back and staring at the metal sliding door that was latched shut.

Turning to address Ari, the guard’s face dropped completely as he got a bit more serious. “What am I going to find in your vehicle?”

“Kitchen supplies, like I said,” Ari insisted.

As the officer reached for the latch on the back of the truck, Ari shot you a wide-eyed look and you gave him a quick nod. He lunged at the second guard, wrestling him for his gun while you went after the first, who was much easier to take down with him being distracted by trying to unlock the back of the truck. Your CIA instincts told you to shoot him once you’d grabbed his weapon, but thankfully you knocked him out with the butt of it instead.

Loud pops of gunfire beside you made you fear the worst, but Ari had managed to push the gun toward the sky before pulling it out of the officer’s grasp, swinging it wildly until it made contact with his head and he fell to the ground.

Gun in hand and panting heavily, Ari looked back at you with a grin. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“You almost got shot,” you reminded him.

“A little more than almost,” he corrected, showing you a gash where a bullet had grazed arm.

“Shit, Ari!” you yelped, running over to him and inspecting the wound. The way he looked down at you as you clutched him made you sort of regret it, though.

“It’s fine,” he assured you, but he made no effort to push you away.

“I… should check on the girls,” you decided, a little bit distracted but making your way back to the truck to roll up the metal back and examine the women inside, who looked scared at first but relaxed when they saw you.

“Kli shay' ealaa ma yaram,” you assured them that everything was fine, “nahn taqribaan 'iilaa al'urduni, wasawf nasil 'iilaa alsafinat allaylat.” We're almost to Jordan and will arrive at the ship tonight.

They relaxed a bit and smiled at you, a few muttered ‘shukraan jazilaan’s (meaning ‘thank you’) echoing from inside. You hated to shut the back and plunge them into darkness again, but they had assured you before that they would brave any conditions for a chance at freedom. You hoped they meant it.

“Please, let me drive, you’re injured,” you offered to Ari as he started to make his way toward the driver’s side door.

“It’s not even that bad, and we’ve had enough run-ins with the law today,” he dismissed.

“Then let me patch you up first, okay? Is that so terrible?”

He smiled a little. “No, I guess not.”

And that was how you ended up leaning on him in the passenger seat, supergluing his arm shut, trying not to think about how his bicep was probably bigger than your head.

“You’re a pretty good medic,” he observed, speaking quietly since you were so close.

“When you’re as clumsy as I am, you have to be,” you responded, sounding monotone due to focusing mostly on your work. “It shouldn’t scar too—”

You stopped when you looked up at him, because the way he was staring back down at you made you completely devoid of the ability to speak or even conjure words in your mind. You’d never seen him so close before and those piercing blue eyes made your head spin.

“What were you gonna say?” he asked softly,

“It… shouldn’t scar too bad,” you finished, “as long as you keep it clean and dry.”

“I generally aim to keep my entire body clean and dry,” Ari chuckled.

“Right, yeah, well— keep up the good work, then,” you stammered as you wrapped some gauze around his arm and rolled his sleeve back down over it.

“Let’s hit the road before we waste any more time,” he suggested, and with a nod you leaned back into your seat.

The radio blasting was the only thing keeping both of you awake as you drove through the dark. The border to Jordan was easy enough, and both of you sighed with relief as you crossed into Israel. It was by far the biggest blockade you’d seen so far, but of course, Ari got you in faster than you’d moved through anything else.

“Good to be home?” you asked when you saw Ari smiling as he looked around at the streetlights through the windshield.

“You could say that,” he answered. “Think we have time to stop for falafel before we get to the port?”

“Not unless you plan on buying for all your passengers,” you laughed, motioning toward the back. “If they have to wait until we reach the ship, so do we.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” he relented. “Besides, probably better to be seen by as few people as possible. Even if we’re in friendly territory, it’s still a covert operation and all.”

“Wow, so you do have some desire to play by the rules,” you gasped in faux shock. He smiled and shrugged a bit.

“More like the rules and my desires occasionally overlap.”

It was past midnight when you pulled into the port, surrounded by ships so big that you couldn’t see the tops of them from inside the car. A cargo ship was waiting for you, along with some Navy men who helped you escort the women onto the vessel.

Since it wasn’t meant to accommodate this many people, the refugees occupied extra crew space while you and Ari were given sleeping bags in an unused office; you were so tired, though, that it actually looked enticing.

As soon as you’d set your pack down and shut the door, you heard a distant horn and felt the ship begin to move. You let out a long sigh as you leaned against the desk, watching Ari take a seat in the chair and start laughing exhaustedly.

“We did it,” you smiled, “we fucking did it.”

“We’ve still got a long boat ride ahead of us,” Ari mitigated, “but yeah… we should be in the clear, and tomorrow afternoon we’ll be in sunny Cyprus.”

You were so elated from the high of a successful mission that you forgot to worry about Ari’s vague request all those weeks ago; it was probably the first time you hadn’t thought about it since then, truthfully. That changed when his smile fell as he looked up at you, eyes darkening a little and scanning your body.

“You’re a great agent,” he nodded slowly, “and an incredible woman. You saved a lot of people tonight.”

You shifted nervously under the weight of his stare, but tried to hide your discomfort. “I… couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I know,” he informed you coldly, standing up and approaching you. “I think I’ve gone above and beyond on my end of our deal.”

A pit formed in your stomach, growing with each step he took towards you. His eyes stayed trained on you except for when he glanced to the side to flip on the radio, American music suddenly piping through the speakers.

— discord and rhyme, I’m on the hunt, I’m after you…

You looked to the radio as well but his hand gently guided your jaw until you looked back at him; he was closer than ever, and you had to look up to meet his gaze, shivering as he ran his thumb over your bottom lip slowly.

“Are you good for your end of the deal?” he asked lowly.

And I’m hungry like the wolf…

You swallowed, hoping it would somehow ease the ache in your gut as you realized what was about to happen, before nodding meekly.

He smirked a little. “Good girl,” he praised, only a bit louder than a whisper, as his hand moved to cradle your face. “You want me, don’t you?”

Your brow furrowed as you tried to figure out how you were supposed to answer that. “I want to repay you, for all you’ve done for me.”

“No, not just that,” he disagreed, “you want me. I know you do. You don’t need to hide it, we’re alone…”

Hesitant but catching on to his desires, you nodded a little.

“Say it.”

“I want you, Ari,” you whispered.

It felt like forever waiting for him to kiss you as he leaned in slowly, eyes half-lidded and dark but never leaving you. As his lips brushed against yours, you finally let your eyes flutter shut and reciprocated his kiss. His hands felt especially big as one slipped behind your neck and the other rested on your waist; in fact, with the way you had to crane your head up to kiss him back, all of him felt big. Including the part you were pretty sure just bumped against the inside of your thigh.

His kiss was soft and patient but determined, slow but somehow still moving faster than you were ready for. You gingerly reached up and rested your hands on his shoulders; they were strong and warm beneath your touch, even through his shirt. You couldn’t think of the last time you’d been kissed like this, or held so tenderly like this, but then again, you were also sure that nobody had scared you like this in a long time, either. For a woman who always knew what to do in a dangerous situation, you couldn’t seem to get a read on Ari Levinson— mostly because you didn’t truly believe he was dangerous. But maybe you should.

When his hands reached up to start unbuttoning your blouse, you pushed him back a little.

"N-not here," you protested, "someone could hear, or walk in."

"There's nowhere else to go, and I'm not waiting 'til Cyprus. I need you now."

He kissed you again before you could respond, more forceful and desperate. You let him work open your shirt this time, his fingers dancing over your skin as he pulled it off your shoulders and tossed it aside. The feeling of him working your bra open made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, but his tongue slipping into your mouth distracted you and before you knew it, it was gone as well. Your nipples hardened in the cold air— or maybe they’d been that way already, for whatever reason— but they reacted even stronger to his thick fingers gently pinching them as his palms cupped your breasts.

You gasped against his mouth a bit, your breathing getting heavier as he moved his hands down to your trousers. The idea of being naked when he was still fully-dressed scared you, but you didn’t have time to think about that anymore when he pulled back to drop to his knees, taking your pants and underwear to the floor with him.

He looked back up at you with a mischievous grin as you cautiously stepped out of them. After guiding you to sit up on the table, neither of you stopping to consider how rude it was to put your bare ass on somebody’s desk in a borrowed ship, he slowly parted your legs. As he kissed a trail inside your thigh, you felt your hands clutch the edge of the table tightly with anticipation. You felt so exposed with his face right there, to the point that your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, and yet you couldn't manage to tear your eyes away from his as he leaned in to lick you teasingly with the tip of his tongue.

"Fuck," you shivered, feeling your inner walls quiver as he moved so delicately. You kept waiting for him to really get into it but he was determined to stay gentle and slow, circling your bud for one glorious moment before stopping again. "Ari, please," you whispered without even realizing you’d said it.

"What do you want, baby?" he asked darkly, his voice deep and gravelly as he ran his hands up the back of your legs.

Your begging whimper was so pathetic you could hardly believe you were hearing yourself. "More, please…"

He dove right in after that, suddenly latching onto your clit and letting his tongue explore every fold, every wrinkle, every sensitive spot with thick, wide licks. Your head fell back and your hands jumped to weave into his hair— that gorgeous fucking hair that had driven you halfway insane. It was soft between your fingers, and in this light you could see the touches of red, blonde, and maybe even grey scattered into the brunette. Better yet was the way he moaned against you when you accidentally pulled it, your hands clenching into fists against his scalp each time he sucked on your clit just right.

"Ari, baby, fuck," you groaned, feeling your hips shift a little as if to try to get more of yourself in his mouth.

Sensation was sparking under your skin faster than you knew what to do with it, faster than you had ever figured out on your own, and definitely faster than anybody else had ever managed. You felt your body shaking and couldn’t suppress it at all, every part of you (inside and out) quivering uncontrollably. It would’ve been embarrassing except that he seemed to be enjoying it quite a bit, egging you on with his tight grip on your thighs, and his deep moans that reverberated over your body, and the way his brow furrowed like it almost pained him to see you like this. Your back arched so dramatically that he had to hold onto your hips tight to keep you in his mouth, but he managed to maintain what he'd been doing— in fact, he didn't stop even when you started to whine and cry, feet digging into his back as you tried not to explode from the overstimulation on your sensitive clit.

"S-stop, s'too much, can't take it," you pleaded, looking down at him.

He looked back up at you with dark, dilated eyes that said 'you're gonna take it.' His tongue lapped at you with renewed vigor, sending you tumbling over the edge again and again and again.

Tears were streaming down your face when he finally relented, standing up slowly and staring you down as he wiped his face with the back of his hand; your arousal had coated his mouth and most of his beard, too. You bit down on your lip to stop it from shaking as he slotted himself between your legs again, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and smiling as he watched your gaze trail down every inch of newly-exposed skin.

You knew he was in good shape, because it was always obvious, but you still shivered a little when you were greeted with chiseled muscles, dusty-blonde hair, a few stray freckles and scars, and last but not least, the gauze wrapping on his arm where you’d patched him up before. It was nice to see a piece of your handiwork on something so flawless, like how it must feel to design the frame that holds a Monet. Your mouth was even watering as you followed the trail of hair down to where it was interrupted by his jeans, which were misshapen with the unmistakable outline of his neglected cock. Either you could actually hear it throbbing, or that was just your heartbeat in your ears as he made a show of undoing his buckle and fly slowly.

A breath caught in your throat as he slid the jeans down and kicked them off with his boots, his cock bouncing up against the bottom of his abs once he’d freed it. You hoped to hide your intimidation, but you must have failed from the way he smirked and licked his lips as he stepped forward and pressed it against your stomach; you felt a little dizzy seeing the head of it reach past your bellybutton. "That's how deep I'm gonna be in you, baby."

For all his delicacy and tenderness in everything before now, he must have had a change of heart; with a little growl, he pushed all the way into you with one brutal thrust, watching darkly as your head fell back in a choked scream. He didn’t stop for very long, either, setting up a pace that was slow but unyielding, his length filling every part of you and then some with each slam of his hips into yours.

He grabbed your hair tightly and suddenly, pulling your head back to expose your neck to him. He licked and sucked along your pulse until you were shaking against him, nails accidentally digging into his shoulders a little bit as you held onto him.

His lips trailed up to pull you into a frenzied, sloppy kiss, your mouth slack wide for him to explore however he wanted.

"Tell me how it feels," he growled against your lips.

It feels like my body is on fire but I like it. It feels like you're shaping my insides to fit you exactly how you want. It feels like you might split me in half before you're done with me, but if you stop now I'll fall apart even worse.

His grip on your hair tightened at your lack of response. "Gettin' fucked too good to answer me, huh? So full of my cock you can't even speak. Is that right, pretty baby?"

You nodded as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, your hoarse moans and sobs muffled by his skin.

"Aw, poor thing," he purred, wrapping his arms around your back. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke to you in a deep mumble, the bass of his voice sending shivers down your spine with each word. "You don't have to tell me, I know how it feels… you're so wet that you're fucking dripping, your needy little pussy is clamping down on me like it's the end of the fucking world, and you're screaming for me so loud I bet half the ship can hear you. I know how it feels, baby; it feels so good that you're already about to come for me."

You gasped as he pushed you to lay back on the table, hoisting your legs up over his shoulders; you felt a bit whorish seeing your legs up in the air like that, especially when he leaned to the side to plant a wet kiss on your calf.

Soon he was letting your legs slip back down to his hips, leaning over you and caging you in with his thick arms, watching your face as he started to fuck you harder. His long hair was at risk of tickling you as it fell down beside your face, but it was that Star of David necklace that was dangling from his neck and swinging right in your face with every thrust. Slightly annoyed by it hitting your face from time to time, you stuck out your tongue to catch it, holding it between your teeth and finding that biting down on it helped you cope with the slight pain of him so deep inside you anyways.

"Baby," he moaned, inspired by the sight to grab your hips even tighter and slam into you even harder. "Fuck, I'm close," he hissed. "Gonna fill you up so good, baby, gonna ruin you for anybody else, huh?"

"Yes, Ari," you whimpered. "I'm close, too…"

"Go ahead, pretty girl, wanna feel how tight you get when you come— when I make you come."

Trying to hold it back only made it hit you harder, and as your moans grew louder and your body began to shake, you felt your walls flutter and flex intensely. He pulled his necklace out of your mouth and kissed you suddenly; it kept you grounded as you feared that the rest of you would float away, lost in pleasure so thoroughly that you'd never come back to reality. His moans mixed with yours as they moved between your tongues, and just when you thought you'd break into pieces if he didn't slow down, you felt his movements stutter and his cock pump inside you. You couldn't feel the warmth of it because you were already so hot all over, but the way his cock swelled as he came was unmistakable and overwhelmingly erotic.

He broke the kiss but didn't pull away, catching his breath while he stayed inside you, resting his forehead against yours.

After cooling off for a moment, he scooped your limp body into his arms and lifted you into his chest; you wrapped around him and let him carry you to the other side of the room where he set you down on the pallet sleeping bags and blankets. You whimpered as he pulled out, his softening cock still big enough to make you wince. The gush of warm, sticky come made your cheeks burn even if it also sent a dulled tingle of arousal up your spine. He was gentlemanly enough to wipe you off with a towel, mumbling something about how pretty you looked stuffed with his come, but you couldn't really focus on any of that because you were still waiting for sensation to return to your numbed extremities— brain included.

He turned his head and laid it on your chest, and you found yourself absent-mindedly scratching his scalp with your nails.

"That's nice," he whispered, but you could tell that already by the way his skin was erupting into goosebumps, and the way he held you tighter.

You must've laid like that for hours, or maybe it was just a few minutes, but it was one of those moments that felt like a piece of forever. He lifted his head to look up at you, pulling you down a bit so his face hovered over yours.

"What's next for you after you get these women to Greece?" he asked quietly.

You chewed your lip as you thought about that. "Back to DC, I figure, and then wherever they send me next. I hear they might want me undercover in Cuba or Russia…"

"How often do you end up in Jerusalem?"

You squirmed a little beneath him, but he slipped his arm under your neck and pulled you closer; how were you supposed to think with his bicep right by your face like that? "Uh, not often, but if I'm in town I'll give you a call—"

"Come with me," he requested softly. "Get to Cyprus, go to Greece, and then meet me in Tel Aviv."

"Ari, I can't—"

"Why not?"

You laughed a little, but he clearly wasn’t joking. "Because I have a job?"

"You won't need a job," he shrugged, "I make good money and you can just live with me."

Your throat went dry as you stammered, trying to figure out if he had seriously just asked you to quit your job and move in with him.

"You'll like Israel. You speak some Hebrew don't you?"

"Uhh, yeah but—"

"Then what's stopping you?"

You couldn't answer because you didn't even know where to start with all the things that were stopping you. Your mouth opened and closed silently like a fish out of water, and he laughed at you lightly.

"Just say yes," he encouraged gently, and your heart twisted as you wondered if this was part of the deal, if you needed to do everything he wanted to keep him on your side. You were on an Israeli ship, sailing international waters; if he changed his mind now, he could still sell you out and have these people arrested or worse. But he wouldn't do that, right?

Perhaps the more important question was not 'would he do that?' but rather 'are you willing to find out?'

"Yes," you heard yourself answer before you even realized you were considering it.

He grinned, hugging you tightly. He was already rambling about how great it was going to be and how he would spoil you all the time and maybe find a way to get you hired as a contractor at Mossad so he could bring you along on missions, but you couldn't hear it past the ringing in your ears. You desperately needed sleep, and his arms were warm and welcoming as you drifted off. He kissed your forehead before letting his eyes fall shut as well, joining you in unconsciousness.

The swaying of the ship was like being rocked to sleep, so much so that you slept for an uncharacteristically long time: you were just a few hours out from your destination when you awoke, in fact.

Instead of getting up and attempting to acquire some food, you laid there staring up at the ceiling as his heavy arm draped over your chest. Even in his sleep he had power over you, refused to let you go. You tried to remember how you'd ended up in this situation but instead you found yourself fantasizing about a chance at love. After running around the world for so long, there weren't many good men left to settle down with. And Ari was maybe not an entirely good man, but you believed him when he said he would treat you well. You'd shacked up with a lot worse in your time, when you were young and reckless and thought the worst thing you could be was alone. Still, a long-suppressed desire for companionship was awakening in your mind and you weren't going to swallow it back down this time. Smiling, you lifted his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles. If what he wanted in exchange for his cooperation was your affection, you could do that.

#ari levinson x reader #dark!ari levinson x reader #ari levinson smut #chris evans x reader #ari levinson x you

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