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justrainandcoffee · 9 months ago

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Against all odds (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc) Part 3

Crossover Peaky Blinders - Hunger Games

Series masterlist. Part 1-Part 2

Summary: During the 62th edition, despite having a lot of mentors thinking he's a traitor, Alfie and Rose get closer but his past trauma is still with him. A friend of his, gives him an advice. || Two years later, during the 64th Hunger Games, Rose decides to tell him what she knows but it not ends well. President Snow, appears.

Series warnings: Mentions of sex (consent and non-con). Murders. Blood. PTSD. Cheating. Prostitution. || This is set in Panem universe. Topics as minors being sexual corrupted are also mentioned because it's CANON.

Words: 3.6k || Alfie x Rose masterlist

Fuck them.

That was what Alfie thought while he was on the balcony, resting on a luxurious sun lounger. The night was warm and it'd be more perfect if he could see the stars but the pollution of the Capitol prevented that. Back in District 9 the air was pure and stars decorated the sky. Rose's head was on his chest and he was stroking her hair. She was snuggling up against him.

They hadn't had sex yet. In his house in the Victor's Village, things were different. Sex was just a way to forget, to cope with his trauma. Couple of minutes almost every day were enough. No feelings, not attachments.

The first year after meeting her nothing changed. A blowjob in exchange of cans of food or a handjob in exchange of bread. Always if the other person was adult and it wasn't forced into anything by anyone. After those years, Alfie knew the people who always visited him. Usually, there wasn't any problem.

But last year everything changed. Last year, the memories of her kisses, the feeling of that last night together when Rose was sleeping in his arms. It was difficult for him not to feel anything when her company, her smile were worth enough to travel all that distance to the Capitol again. Or better, when he wasn't sure, or at least he didn't remember feeling something similar. So, last year and the beginning of that one he simply rejected his visitors. And yet he continued giving them food or medicine if they asked for.

Rose never forced him even when Alfie noticed that she wanted more than kissing him. There was a look in her eyes, every time he pushed her away from him when things were going beyond his control. It was acceptance of his trauma. But for Alfie, in his mind, it was deception.

Alfie wanted the same but every time he thought about it, his mind went directly to that infamous night. That old woman moaning beneath him, whispering dirty words that only increased his disgust, her nails hurting his body…

"Al?"

She started to call him "Al" few days ago and Alfie couldn't help but think that it was the sweetest nickname that anybody had given him.

"Yes?"

"What are you thinking about? You're quiet."

"Just thinking about the games, sweetheart," Alfie lied. "Are you tired?"

"Yeah, a bit. It was a long day. But I don't want to leave this spot "

"The sun lounger?"

"You, silly," she chuckled "You're better than the sun lounger."

She kissed his shoulder before standing up "but you need to rest, don't you? And I need to begin with the new design for their tv presentation. There's a new presenter. Extravagant… but, seems good."

"I didn't know. A man?"

"Yeah. Caesar Flickerman, I think his father or grandpa were the first one to show the first tributes, ages ago."

"Family business."

"I think so. Go and rest, Al. You deserve it."

"Do I?" he smiled at her and kissed her hand.

"You do."

Except for Lucy Winters and the ones from district 3 and 8, most of the other mentors just ignored him. He gave a shit. He was still worried about the kids under his care, about the fucking Arena and about his own life, to pay attention to them. And his personality was too strong to beg for some kind words.

"I heard that the Arena is quite unique this year" Lucy said.

Both of them were watching their own mentee trying to climb a rope. Her girl was doing better than his. But Theresa was good with axes. At least it seemed so. Alfie watched for a moment the girl from District 10 studying the plants.

"Every year it is."

"Some years are harder than others. And it seems to me this one is one of those."

"Say it out loud. Some years they put their whole shit on it," Alfie groaned.

"They want a show and visual effects are their speciality. We lost our male tribute last year because he put his feet on a landmine and exploded like confetti. I heard people cheering at it," Lucy clenched her fists "one day they're going to have a tribute so unhinged that he or she will to commit a massacre and they are going to lose their head. They deserve that! Not the kids, but the bastards…"

"They're going to kill her or him, then. They don't want a monster. They want cute kids. Fuckers. Fuckers."

"Nothing last for ever. Not even the games. But in the meantime…" Lucy stood up "I'm going with Tommy I'm seeing him talking with one of our kids. Alfie…"

The mentioned man just looked at her and she kept talking "don't let the past ruin your present."

Rose still felt guilt because she was unsure of telling Alfie about the microphone in the control centre. When he mentioned the desert, she just nodded.

That was the second day after the Games officially started. As usual, the bloodbath was the end of the road for a lot of tributes. The careers took care of several of them. Including Armand who was trying to run away when the girl of district 1 threw an arrow directly to his heart. Theresa and the girls from district 11 and 12 made an alliance. For now, it was working.

The cactus provided hydration but also, as the girl from district 6 discovered, its spines were poisonous. A simple scratch and the girl was dead. The sound of the cannon resounded in the Arena.

The sun was shining and it was obvious that it was hot. Sooner or later tributes will need water and unless their mentors send them bottles, they'll need to go to the cactus. Carefully.

From the original alliance only remained Theresa and the girl from 12. The black girl from district 11 was killed by one of the careers. That was the beginning of the third day.

Things started to go to shit when Theresa broke her wrist running from tributes who were chasing her. She managed to escape but she had lost her partner who was hidden somewhere else and now she couldn't use her right hand. Rose managed to help Alfie to get her fresh water and some bandages but that's all they could do. Obviously the girl needed a hospital, but that was impossible. Both of them noticing that Eva, the girl from District 10, was doing surprisingly good. Along with district 9, 11 and 12, 10 wasn't famous for having a victor usually their tributes died soon. Neither Alfie or Rose were alive when district 10 won its last games, nor they were even close to be. Rose's mother was still a baby when that happened. It was really far in time. With luck, maybe that year…

Rose had fallen asleep on his shoulders and Alfie covered her with a blanket. Next day he was going to tell her that Theresa didn't survive the night. It was something obvious. Too young and too much pain, probably an infection, too. Alfie followed her steps and fell asleep on the same sofa next to her.

The white sound of the TV woke up her. It was near 3am. The screen showed the Arena but it was quiet, you could only see the tributes on the ground sleeping.

Sleeping like Alfie at her side. She stroke his brown hair with the her fingertips. Whatever was happening between she and he, it was something different. Alfie was the last thing she expected to find in her life. And yet, after three Hunger Games together, he and the feelings she had for him was the only thing that survived the Games.

Alfie felt her and opened his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you up."

"It's okay, sweetheart. I should go to bed anyway, this is not the best place to sleep."

"No, it's not. You better go, it's late and tomorrow…" Rose watched the TV, "she'll need you."

"Theresa's dead."

The young woman looked at him, surprised. Then stared down "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. She was suffering. Not anymore," he said as he tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Still…"

Alfie kissed her temple. "Next year, maybe."

"Maybe."

Don't let the past ruin your present.

Alfie put his lips on hers and kissed her once again. This time he sat her down on his lap, her legs at each side of him.

She could feel him, only their clothes were in between. It was a nice feeling and she really wanted to be with him. But Rose couldn't blame Alfie if he didn't want the same. Someone had ruined him. She could wait another year, if he needed time.

"I think I fell for you…" she whispered when they pulled apart. It was true.

"You think?" his arms were around her waist and unconsciously, he was pressing his hips against hers.

"It's risky! I'm married. Lawrence is a brainless worm, but he's powerful and if he knows... my little brother is still in age of being reaped. But- but I love you."

I love you.

He remained in silence not knowing what to say. His whole life hated the Capitol and people living there. Nothing but a colourful bunch of stupid and cruel people. She wasn't from the Capitol, true, but she was still living there.

"I don't expect the same words in return," Rose spoke again "I just wanted you to know. It's okay for me if you want to continue this with not attachments or not continue it at all. We need to work together the years to come anyway, so… don't worry. We're adults."

Alfie looked at her. How distant in time was that first kiss full of sadness years ago and how different it was from the last one, minutes ago. She was still on him, waiting for an answer that Alfie didn't know how to articulate.

"You should go to sleep, Al. Even if there's no one needing you."

Although I need you, she wanted to say.

"You worry a lot about me, luv," he finally spoke. He stroked her cheek with his thumb.

"Someone has to. If don't, the future kids will be alone. They need you."

"Yeah, well, it's not like I'm a successful mentor. 16 dead kids and counting," Alfie clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

"And yet, you're the only thing they have. The only proof they have that it's possible to survive the fucking Arena. Ask yourself how many kids are growing up listening about your victory back in your district. 'Is that Alfie Solomons, mommy? The one who won the 53th games?' 'Yes, son, he is.'"

He couldn't help but laugh. She laughed, too. Alfie put one of his hands behind her neck pull her to him again, kissing her one more time.

Fuck the victors who thought she was like her husband. Fuck them. Fuck that old disgusting woman who caused a trauma on him. Fuck Snow, Lawrence Evert and the whole world.

Alfie picked her up and carried her to his bedroom. He closed the door with his feet. That turquoise dress she was wearing soon ended up on the floor, along with his shirt and pants.

He was on top of her kissing her neck, while her legs were already wrapping him. It was so different from the old woman, this was desired, wanted. Alfie pressed himself against her. He could feel her warmth. Rose took his face in her hands and made him look at her.

"Only if you want to," she said.

"I want to, sweetheart," he replied finally thrusting her. Both let out a moan. Alfie stayed still for a moment, feeling her. He couldn't compare the feeling because he didn't have anything to compare to. Slowly he began to move in her. Both smiled at each other.

"Rosie…" he said when finished. Both exhausted, but happy. The man kissed her forehead. "I love you, too. My Rosie."

The previous year had been Alfie's 10th anniversary of his victory. And yet, it seemed it was yesterday he had won. His gift was to lost another two tributes.

This year there was another kind of celebration. One more private. Those were the fifth games they spent together. Two years ago neither of them were ready to admit that they longed to see each other. But last year it changed. The Games gave them the opportunity to be together. And same it was this one.

Rose prepared the costumes with anticipation, no matter the height or weight of the new kids the costumes were already prepared and once she could see them, her only job would be adjusting the clothes. No more wasted nights in her studio. The nights she used to spend sewing now they belong to Alfie. Including the first night after a whole year separated.

"Are you a couple?" asked Hilda, the female tribute, the morning after their arrival. Unaware of their behaviour, Alfie and Rose were chatting animatedly. Too close.

"What? No!" Alfie denied "don't be ridiculous."

"You are! Alfie, you're the grumpiest man I ever met. But I see you're happy now. I doubt you're happy because we're in the Capitol. Or this food over the table makes you happy or it's because of her."

"Hilda, that's a complete nonsense. She's just an old friend of mine, and also a married woman!"

"I am," confirmed Rose showing the girl her wedding ring.

"Pfff. As if a married person can't be with a single one. I'm not 5 years old, Hello! But if you want to lie… I'm not going to say a word anyway. I don't care. Besides… you're just friends."

"You said it. Just friends. As soon as you finish your breakfast we're going to the training floor," Alfie said to the girl "fuckin' hell! Kids these days…"

Rose couldn't help but chuckled at it. Every year that passed their were getting way older than his tributes. Five years ago, the age gap between them and Philip and Reah was minimal. If they had survived both of them now will be older 20. Now they were the perpetual ghosts of a 16 years old tributes. Same as the rest.

Alfie finally went with Hilda and the boy named, Alex, to start their training while she stay in their floor decorating the shoes, that was something she could do there. In the meantime, she heard the conversations inside the control centre with a earplug she had acquired.

"…not so deep, you fucking idiot. You're going to kill them all. The pressure is too much."

She could hear the voice of a man talking with another one that seemed to be younger.

"Code: 67-b!!" yelled someone in the background.

"That was a mutt," she thought. After five years listening non stop, Rose had learnt a lot of those codes and they never changed them. But still she couldn't identify what kind of Arena they designed this time.

After at least half an hour of unimportant chatting, she heard the first confirmation.

"I uploaded it," the younger voice said "not so deep, but I added another tunnel."

"Good job, Adam," reply the old to the one called Adam. "Let's see who of these little bastards can survive this underwater cave."

The shoe she was decorating fell on the floor. An underwater cave? How the fuck they were going to survive? Even for those from district 4, it'd be too much.

Rose stared at the wall. She was ready to tell Alfie the truth. He needed to prepare Hilda and Alex for something that was definitely new.

She turned off her earplug and hide it. Then Rose left the floor in search of Alfie.

"They're fine," he told her when she called him. He went out considering she wasn't allowed to be inside there while the tributes were training. "Alex is good with kn…"

"Listen to me!" she demanded, then she lowered the voice "Alfie, the arena this year is an underwater cave and I think we didn't see anything like that before. Your kids need to climb a slippery rock until reach the surface and they put the cornucopia under the fucking water. So every time they'll need a weapon or if they survive to the feast, they'll need to dive. Did you hear me?"

"How the fuck do you know that?"

"It doesn't matter. But I know it and you should do something about it or you're going to lose both of them the first minute. There's a swimming pool crossing this hallway. Take them there, too."

"It does matter to me. But we can't talk here."

Alfie and Rose were arguing in his bedroom later that same day. Alissa had taken the kids to explore the building, so they were alone.

"You knew the whole time. You always knew!"

"Yes."

"How. Why! Your husband told you?"

"God damnit, Alfie, no! If I tell you, you won't understand. It has nothing to do with the asshole. It's me. I… can you please, trust me?"

"No. I can't. From the moment I met you, you knew!! fuck!! you knew from the very beginning the different Arenas!! What the fuck are you telling me about trusting you? I could have done more for those children! I saw them died!"

"I saw them died, too! Don't think I don't see them every fucking night in my head!! The first year I didn't know you! What did you want me to tell you? 'hey! I'm your stylist! And the Arena this year represents the Grand Canyon, how are you?"

"And then what? The following years, what? Last year?! Two years ago?!"

"I didn't know how. And because the less people know about it, the better... I…"

"You what?! The better what?!"

"My business, Alfie!! Fuck… I'm not betraying you. I swear. I swear. Please, believe me."

"I need to be alone."

"Al…"

"Get out, Rose."

Alfie didn't talk to her the following days. Of course they didn't sleep together, either. Alfie was upset and she understood why, but she was also protecting him. If by any chance, Snow knew about it, Alfie could be free because he knew nothing.

The third day after the argument and barely speaking with each other, Rose found him reading a book about survival skills sat in front of the window that faced the city.

"Are you still mad at me?"

"Yes."

"And if I give you this?" he opened her hand and showed him a wheat ear with googly eyes and blue hair "his name is Wheaty. Wheaty says: Rose loves you with her life, even if you don't think so."

Alfie watched at the ridiculous toy and smirked "Wheaty seems to be a wise man."

"He is." Rose gave it to him and Alfie put the toy in his pocket. "I'm not the only one against this bullshit in the Capitol, Al. But I'm just doing my part… and I don't want you to be involved in this."

"I'm with you. I don't know what the fuck are you doing, Rosie. But I know you're crazy."

"Is that good or not?"

"I don't know yet." Alfie put the book aside and sighed, "I'm mad at you. But I also believe you, these days I sent them to train in the climbing wall and then to the swimming pool."

"It worked?"

"I hope so."

Far away from the building, inside an exclusive mansion, President Snow was watching the sky. A woman next to him, his secretary, was taking notes.

"Anything else, sir?"

"Tell me, Hazelle, have you ever sense that something is wrong but you don't know what?"

"Sometimes, yes."

"It's good to know, Hazelle, that I'm not the only one. One last thing, before you go to your home… I'm going to need a new suit to congratulate our new victor, who ever wins the Games. And I want a new stylist, please, contact Mrs. Evert. She's working with district 9."

NEXT PART

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x ofc #alfie solomons x oc #alfie x rose #peaky blinders #hunger games au #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fanfic

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kitkat-the-muffin · 1 month ago

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Silly Game Time: Who are some of your favorite Bad Guys in fiction, and why?

I'm not talking a mere antagonist nor a character who might be doing bad things reluctantly or even for good, noble reasons. I mean a *villain* who's out there causing trouble and/or scheming because *they want to*, and are usually enjoying it. They can be from any sort of story (books, movies, shows, games, OCs, etc.), so long as they're an honest-to-badness *villain*.

Okay so only one of my followers is gonna know who this is but as a kid I was obsessed with the concept of Rêve from Dreamtalia

Dreamtalia is this old hetalia fangame that came out during my middle school hetalia phase and for some reason my brainrot for it outlasted the brainrot for the source material •<•

I just like the whole concept of jumping into dreams and using the power of friendship to save your allies from a needy dream demon with attachment issues. Every arc felt like a different metaphor for a toxic relationship and that was nifty

But anyway that dream demon villain was named Rêve and kid-me found him so compelling. He was a tragic villain who can only blame his evilness on himself. He had everything taken from him, but then was taken in by a species that’d give him all he ever wanted. He then abused their kindness by turning them into his play-things, and turned to constantly seeking validation from humanity rather than his found family

However his love always had a heavy cost and every single one of his human friends either died in their sleep from visiting him too often or died indirectly because of him (like one who failed to evacuate a bombing situation because they were deep in sleep, or another who got hit by a car because they were distracted talking to him in a mirror), which only made him more bitter

The game’s plot starts off when he discovers that human-like immortal beings exist for him to befriend, but he doesn’t realize they too are susceptible to death at his hands if their minds disconnect from their body. Rêve was tired of his friends leaving him so he’d never let them leave him again, especially if they don’t need to eat or drink or exercise to survive. He even revels in the fact that he’s torturing the main party of characters with declarations about how his captives will be his friends forever, which everyone present knows means they could die from never waking up. There’s also a lot of murder and gorey mutilation, mostly directed at his found-family rather than the main party though. Truly a horrible dude

And I always found that kinda neat :3 he was a horrible person but still a tragic character. He created his own flaws and his bad deeds are all his own despite his defining tragedy, and even when he gets a happy ending it won’t last forever because he doesn’t deserve it to. It’s got it’s hiccups as every fanfic does but I still enjoy the brainrot it gives me

I’ve actually always wanted to make a list of fanfiction supervillains that surpass the villains of their source material but the only other one I could come up with back then was Beitus from Hackbent (a Homestuck fan comic) and that’s a topic for another day

#gasp an ask #dreamtalia

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hirayaaraw · 1 year ago

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Unbreakable Ties 6: In A Heartbeat

idol!Jaehyun x OC

Genre: Childhood Friends to Lovers; slow burn; angst

Note: After a long hiatus, I am back. I am sorry it took long. I will try to update more.

Tags: @yincotton @26zcl @ahtisa02 @joepomonerof @painted-hills @ukiyoneo @ourbeautifulaffair @wintersoulwarrior

Jung Jaehyun is a persistent man. If he says he will do it, expect results. That attitude catapulted him into stardom. As much as his attitude is desirable, Eunhye is hating it right now.

Jaehyun rushed to his car after the call. Saying goodbye to his mom and leaving her with the poor plant. Now, he is being cooed by her younger cousins and elders of the family. It became Jaehyun's fan meeting.

Apparently, her younger cousins are NCT fans while the elders are big fans of his dramas. Albums were signed left and right. Jaehyun enthusiastically entertained them and everyone congratulated you for pulling a guy like him.

In which Jaehyun replied, 'It's the other way around. I am the luckiest to have her.' Jaehyun said it brightly with his dimples showing. She almost forgot that they are pretending.

Just like their middle school and high school days, Eunhye watched him to be admired by everyone. He really has the star quality even kids are drawn to him.

"If Auntie Eunhye is your girlfriend, then can I call you Uncle?" Jaehyun lowered himself to be at eye level with her niece.

"Of course! I can be your Uncle Jae." The kid giggled and asked to be carried which Jaehyun obliged. A pain struck to her heart. That could be her son.

'You made the right decision.' She reminded herself. Eunhye carefully listed down his achievements in her mind and reminded herself that Jaehyun wouldn't reach those if things didn't go as she planned.

One night, one mistake shouldn't ruin his life. Eunhye knew Jaehyun worked hard to debut. Call her a martry or dumb but she would do it again in a heartbeat for her bestfriend.

Jaehyun saw the change of emotion on her face. He brought down her niece and went to her.

"Are you okay?" She nodded and tried to blink her tears away. Jaehyun noticed her tired eyes. "Should we go home?"

Eunhye nodded as a reply. They bid goodbye and made Jaehyun promise that he will come visit again. He happily agreed while holding her hand tightly.

"You shouldn't make that promise." Eunhye said once they are inside his car. She knew it was wrong to lash out to Jaehyun if he doesn't know anything.

"When did I break a promise?" Jaehyun scoffed when he sense her biting tone. She looked at the window while silently wiping her tears. Eunhye remembers how he will drop or do anything he can if she needs him. "You shouldn't be talking about promises if you ask me."

And it breaks her. Every pieces of her heart shattered. "Can you drop me off at my old house?"

She changed the topic. Jaehyun sighed as he failed to address the elephant in the room.

Once they reached her old house, they both alight from his car. Eunhye insist that she could handle it but Jaehyun stayed.

When they turned on the light, it was nothing compared to the bright and homey feeling of their childhood. Everything is so dim and lonely. Eunhye inspects each box trying to find something in the middle of the mess.

She smiled with loneliness. Eunhye brought it to Jaehyun and he noticed immediately what inside the box. His brows furrowed abruptly.

"Someone already bought the house. I won't be able to take everything so--"

"You are erasing everything about me." He held the box tightly. The box that contains their pictures, his gifts, and letters to her for every birthdays.

"Jaehyun..." She said his name lowly.

"11 years, Eunhye. For pete's sake, I waited for 11 years and this is all I got. Not even an explanation?" Jaehyun put down the box and turned his back to wipe his tears then faced her again. "I tried to contact you. Called your number, sent you thousand of message in facebook which you never opened, spoke to our high school friends, and even asked your college friends and professors but they all don't know."

Jaehyun rarely gets angry or cry but right now he is fuming angry and crying. She just stood in front of him calm as a sea but storm raging inside.

"Is it because of that night?" Jaehyun asked as this is the only reason he can think about.

"Why should we talk about something that happened a decade ago?"

"Stop ignoring my questions. I waited and lived miserably for 11 years without you." Jaehyun brushed his hair in frustration. "Do you know how it hurts to wait for someone you love when you never know if they will come back?"

Some people get their love confession in flattering way but Eunhye got hers in an argument. Eunhye blinked at him again and he groaned. She can hear him cursed himself for having the worse confession.

"We live in different worlds, Jae." He looked at her upon hearing her call him in his nickname. "We are meant to drift apart. You have the whole world in your palm and my world will be in Canada."

"And if I leave everything and come with you?" Eunhye felt her throat is hurting and eyes stinging from preventing herself to cry.

"You worked hard for all of these."

"For what? All of these but without you." Jaehyun laid his heart to her. Eunhye smiled bitterly hearing those words. Her early 20s self will never believe that she will hear those words years later.

"Don't destroy yourself for this." She said with finality. Eunhye picked up the box again and gave it to Jaehyun. "Leaving you still one of the best decisions I made."

Eunhye bought the earliest flight the next day. Fearing that she will crumble if she stays within Jaehyun's vicinity. Just like 11 years ago, Jaehyun woke up the next day confused. He went to her airbnb and to her old house but he couldn't find her. It's a repeat of his nightmare and he doesn't if he will be able to recover from this heartbreak.

2016

It hasn't been a year since Jaehyun debut as an idol under a group called NCT. Eunhye also started college that year in Seoul. Despite being in one city, they can't find a common availability to meet.

Jaehyun is in the middle of recording for their first mini album when his phone rings. It shows her name but he already told Eunhye that he will be recording so he declined. The phone rings again and for the third time he answers.

"Eunhye, I'll call in a bit. I am recor--"

"Hello! Is this the guardian of Lee Eunhye?" He freezed upon hearing a stranger's voice say her name. "You are on his emergency contact.

"What happened?" Jaehyun tried to be calmed but even his leader so him fidgeting and asked through sign if he is okay.

"Vehicular accident. She got a fractured arm but we will run more test to see if anything is wrong."

Jaehyun didn't waste anytime. He apologized to the producer and his teammates but he promised to give his best next recording.

When he arrived to the hospital and saw you lying in the bed of emergency room, he felt his knees weakened.

"What are you doing here? Your fans might see you."

"That should be my question. What are you doing here?" He put on a brave mask in front of her.

"Dumbass driver forgot to step on his break." Eunhye winced when she tried to move. Jaehyun immediately called a nurse just to check her.

When the nurse is gone, Eunhye laughed that made him frown because nothing is definitely funny about the situation.

"I can't believe we finally found a time to hang out and it's in an emergency room." Eunhye laughed in the absurdity of her thought but Jaehyun made a promise to himself to make time for her even if they have a busy schedule.

On that day, he realized that he will do anything for Eunhye in a heartbeat.

#kpop scenarios #nct scenarios #jaehyun angst #jaehyun fluff #nct angst #nct fluff #jaehyun x oc

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weebnotheree · 1 year ago

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~ Like i want you ~ PT 1

Ai Hoshino x Ex Male Reader

M/n pov

Ai is calling her ex-boyfriend on a public phone she wears sunglasses and a cap to hide her identity, Ai speaks in a relaxed tone

"[M/n]-kun I'm calling you not because I want to get back with you but don't you want to meet your son and your daughter?"

Ai is talking on the phone while leaning her back on public phones

"they've been four years old now and you haven't visited them at all"

I rub my face as I shift in my bed and rub my face "….mm..I have to see my vocal coach today… but after yeah sure" I say with a soft tone but you could tell I just woke up.

There is brief pause she speaks in a tone

"I know this is sudden and you probably don't want to see me but I think I'd be best for you just to have a little chat with me about our children"

She pauses again

"I need one favor from you could you please come to this address I need to talk about Aquamarine's education which is the most important thing about him"

She gave you the address

"Alright.. just give me a minute" i told her. I was tired and needed to process and wake myself up fully.

"Sure." She waited patiently

As I got up and getting ready and the left the phone on without hanging up. I pick the phone back up and head out the door to my car as I put the phone on speaker "okay…I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Sure. Take your time" She said with a tone before she hung up.

After few minutes of driving you received a text from Ai saying

💬"Please bring your kids with you, they've been four years old and you still haven't visit them so I think I'd be best if you take with you and I promise I'll never make a scene"

💬"you have them idiot 😑" I replied back to her.

Ai is left in disbelief she texts you again

💬"I am the only one who took care of our children for the past four years even during my career as an idol I made sure I gave them special care and attention. It's about time you show up and fulfill your responsibilities as the father of my children"

She was not backing down on this topic

💬"Let me just say that I would have taken care of them four years ago if you had told me you were pregnant… but you didn't. And you tell me now that I have kids?" I replied back to her

You are not able to make her budge from this topic now

💬"I made a stupid decision in my late teen years and I was scared to inform you but now I need you in my children's life. So please don't back out of this"

💬"I would have loved to be be there when they were born… But that doesn't mean I'm not gonna be a father" I replied back

Ai sighs in relief a she read your message.

💬"I am glad that you are finally realizing that this is very important"

Ai texted you the address again

💬"Please come to this address after meeting with the coach and I insist that you bring your twins with you"

💬"are they…at the private daycare again?"

💬"yes they are in daycare but please you need to take care of them with me not just leaving them always with someone else" Ai texted.

I go to the private daycare, get out of my car, and go inside the private daycare.

The twins are playing with toys in the daycare and seem to be really attached to the workers here

I was walking up to my kids as I call them, "Ruby, Aqua."

They look at you with happy expressions and run towards you and both hug you tightly

As they hug you tightly the daycare workers all seem a bit surprised that you are taking the kids with you this time

The kids have no problem coming with you

"So you guys want ice cream?" I say as I hold their hands and we start walking out of the daycare.

The twins nod at you and seem happy that they are going with you

You could see the daycare workers looking at you in a worried expression like they've got no idea why are you suddenly taking the kids with you this time.

i glanced back at the workers and see they're staring with a worried look "What are y'all staring at?"

They try to look away as they see you noticing but there is no way that they would get away from the fact that you are taking the kids with you for some odd reason and that's what is making them worried about the whole situation

"Are you question my authority of my kids?" I glare at the workers.

One of the workers speak up.

"No sir we are just concerned of why are you taking the kids with you since you haven't visited them for such a long time"

"So..I can't come and see or get my kids is what you're telling me?" I asked in a cold tone.

The worker seems to be a bit taken aback by your cold tone and replies you

"Sir you can take your kids anytime you want, but we need to tell you that your ex-girlfriend had been the one who was mostly taking care of them for the past four years so we are a little bit concerned why are you suddenly taking your kids with you like this"

"That's cause she's just now telling me I have kids…." I narrow my eyes "Don't question our business…"

At this point the worker is starting to feel a bit threatened by you and she speaks nervously

"Alright sir, we'll not inquire you any further and just know that as long as your kids are comfortable being with you then we have no problem. I hope you have a wonderful day with you and your children"

And the worker does the sign of the cross in hopes everything goes smoothly with you and your children

smiles like nothing just happened before picking up Ruby and Aqua and leaving.

The workers breathe a sigh of relief as you leave with both kids without any issue after leaving and getting them ice cream I drove to AI's house

You reach AI's house in few minutes it is a huge mansion and Ai herself is waiting at the door with a relaxed expression

"I see you brought our children with you, so you are finally going to take your responsibility as a father,"

Ai spoke

"Isn't that what I'm doing 😑"

She rolls her eyes

"I know this is sudden but do keep in mind that you need to take care of them as well from now on so please visit them from time to time...Do you understand [M/n]-kun, this is your responsibility now,"

"Yeah yeah" I told her as i let the kids out the care and told them to go inside the house.

She seems to be satisfied with your answer and speaks after a pause

"This is off topic but I just need to ask you about something if you don't mind"

I shut the back door and look at her with a tired look. "What is it"

"I'm just curious but in our relationship why were you always so distant to me? Like you never cared about me... Did I do anything wrong during that time or was it that you just simply didn't love me?" she asked in a sad tone.

#x male reader #romance #x reader #love #mamgic #ai #ai hoshino #ruby hoshino #aqua hoshino #ex boyfriend

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oddballism · 8 months ago

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Once again feeling imposter syndrome about my autism (I also have ADHD but I’m specifically talking about the autism) because I don’t have, or at least I can’t tell if I have, the common sensory issues

I’m fine with loud noises

I’m fine with bright lights most of the time. Unless someone has an artificial light turned on when there’s plenty of natural light in the room. That annoys me greatly and I will turn it off immediately

I think I can make eye contact? Or maybe I can’t? I have trouble talking when I’m tired and have a headache, which is common for me just because of my shit sleep habits. It’s like, I have a feeling of what I want to say, but that last step of turning the feelings into words isn’t working. I’ve gone off topic, haven’t I? When I’m tired like that, it’s easier for me to talk if I’m not looking at the person, and I have to be stimming constantly. My visits with my therapist are after school, and I’m kneading that styrofoam pellet pillow she has with my hands the entire time. And sometimes I squeeze my eyes shut to help me talk

I feel pain the way neurotypical people do. If I twisted my ankle as a kid, I cried, the way other kids would. I cut myself? Yep, that’s pain, and I don’t like it. It doesn’t pleasure me

I don’t walk on the sides of my feet. I don’t walk on my toes, either

My parents seem to think I run slightly off from normal, but Ive blame that on me having never truly exercised in my life. (I should be physically healthy, I don’t have any physical disabilities or chronic illnesses/conditions, but my parents didn’t sign me up for sports as a kid and I didn’t exercise much in other ways, so I never started) I feel like I would have good balance, flexibility, coordination, etc. if I only had spent my life exercising like a normal kid instead of never doing any hard physical activity. But I’ve always been very against physical activity, and my parents were very lax when raising me and didn’t want to force me into activities.

And that reminds me, I’m the opposite of flexible. I have shit flexibility. Aren’t autistic people supposed to be prone to hypermobility?

Have I ever had a meltdown? I don’t know. Have a had freak-outs? Tantrums? Oh yes, so, so many. But a meltdown is supposed to be out of your control. When I get them, I do it sort of on purpose because I don’t know how else to express my feelings. Have I ever even had a panic attack? Maybe, but I can’t think of it right now

But one thing I do have is not being empathetic or compassionate at all. I’m a terrible person and I hate myself for it. When somebody says they’re feeling bad, or something bad happened to them, I know I should feel sorry for them, but I feel nothing. It’s a thought, not a feeling. Even for my own friends.

I needed to vent about this. Even though I am absolutely autistic, as my therapist said, I’m always going to feel like an outsider, a someone who doesn’t fit in, because I don’t have the bad traits and experiences. I’m fine with loud noises. Why am I okay with loud noises. Why do I have normal pain and pain reactions. I hate myself

#vent post #personal #vent #tw self hatred #autism #autistic #actually autistic #actually autism #adhd #actually adhd #audhd #actually audhd #neurodivergent #neurodivergence #disability #depression

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fatuismooches · 1 year ago

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Helloo Smooches!

My tumblr went insane and it took me 3 attempts to send anything-- Anyway- I can't blame you for love for Neuvillette, I totally relate. I thought he'll be like Manfred from Ace Attorney, but he's surprisingly gentle, compassionate and polite. Unfortunately hydro men don't like my account 😔

OK, kk, back on topic about harbingers - yes, yes, Childe will make the best father out of Harbingers, that's not even up for discussion

I see him as a person, who wants a big family, maybe 3 kids? At the same time he's worried that bc of his work he won't be able to spend much time with them :(

Well, he has to leave a lot due to his work, but every time he returns nothing can stop him from spending time with his loved ones!! And he brings his kids a lot of presents from business trips (of course he doesn't forget about you too)

Speaking of "business", like with Teucer, to his kids Childe is the best toyseller in Snezhnaya. This sometimes causes certain embarrassing incidents (imagine Childe's story quest, but with his kid instead. Yea, something like that)

Your kids are never lonely though. Childe's family loves them and doesn't mind babysitting them, when reader is busy/tired. Pulchinella also visits and tells them stories of his youth (also dies internally when kids say that their father sells toys)

Tartaglia is a very fun dad, I think. He'll teach his kids how to fish, cook (even better if reader is not from Snezhnaya, so you can teach them different cuisine). When they're older, he'll teach them to fight. You'll never know what might happen while he's gone!

Like with Pantalone, Reader will have to be a "strict" parent, your family is just your husband and 1-3 freckled faces against you. Childe spoils your children a lot, he has little to no restriction

Childe is *very* protective of his family. When he's gone for a mission or if kids, when grow up, leave their homeland there are always fatui agents watching over then. If something happens to either of you... Let's say a simple kill is an easy way out of this situation...

DAD CHILDE DAD CHILDE 😭💖❤️ I'll happily talk about this! He is such a family man, he loves you and his kids so much, as well as his family, who honestly probably lives with you too. It's a huge house with a lot going on. It's Teucer's turn to be a big brother! So even when your husband isn't around you and your kids have a lot of company so no one is lonely. Papanella being a grandpa as usual 🥺 (idc what anyone says) I bet he gives you a lot of advice on how to deal with them too! (BUT BRUH NOT THE TOY SELLER STORY AGAIN 😭 Poor reader and Childe, they must feel so bad having to lie to their kids about his true occupation 😭 Luckily Pulcinella is better at keeping up the lie than you two, for the kid's sake)

But omg. Ajax is indeed such a great dad. Despite being a Harbinger he still has all the best traits for being a father. He's protective of his kids but not overbearing, he knows that he has to let them try things out on their own. He indulges their curiosity within reason. He loves to make them laugh and try new things. He's patient with them and their feelings. And he makes sure despite not being able to be around them all the time, they know he loves them more than anything! So much fun activities, as you said :) And yup, he's honestly worried about their safety so he'll start by teaching them the basics of a sword (they vow to keep you safe too which you think is cute)

Freckles Childe my beloved 🥺 It seems like reader has their work cut out for them, their husband is hella mischievous sometimes and it rubbed off on the kids 🥰 He always spoils them, but you can't get too mad since that's his way of apologizing for being gone.

But yea i cant imagine what Childe would do if his family got hurt... its not a pretty scene thats for sure... ahaha (he'd give you all the biggest hug after and probably cries a bit in your arms)

#smooches talks #🥀 anon #childe love notes <3 #one of my favorite childes #BUT MANFRED??? BYEEEE😭😭#taking me back to my aa phase

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tertiaryunit · 2 years ago

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Damage Assessment

An “extra” chapter from my DX story, focused on Lawrence and his dad Sam Carter. This takes place a few hours after the beginning of the game, after JC captures Leo Gold.

/ ------- /

It had been a few hours since the all-clear had been given, and most of the troops had returned to patrol the perimeter of the island for possible survivors. The NSF attack had caught them off guard, and Sam knew it would mean many visits from high-ranking government officials dissatisfied with their boss, a man called Joseph Manderley.

Sam, being a veteran, was used to such events; this was not the first time one of his superiors had been reprimanded, and it wouldn’t be the last, with all that it entailed. What really mattered to him was that his son was coming from Washington with his boss for the occasion - it had been years since he last saw him.

The Veteran was sitting behind the desk in the Armory when his thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a figure elegantly dressed in a black suit. His footsteps were light, like someone who knew he should not be there, and therefore with an ill-concealed sense of guilt.

“Hey kid” “Good evening, father”

Lawrence was only twenty-five years old but his skin had a grayish tone, so exhausted that he looked close to death. The Quartermaster was understandably concerned since the last memory he had of his son was the expression of pure happiness at being assigned as his idol's personal assistant seven years ago.

“What brings you here, son?” “We’re just checking how things are going. Sir Simons gave me a five minutes break, so... Here I am”

Sam looked into Lawrence’s eyes: they were gaunt, cold like his superior’s and of the exact same shade of grey; his voice calm and measured so as not to show how he really felt. The awkward silence that fell after their initial words did nothing to dampen the tense atmosphere.

“So... I suppose you’re here to do some damage assessment?” “More or less. Gunther’s losing his touch, I know the NSF got him” “I heard our newest recruit freed him. He also successfully arrested Leo Gold, according to Jacobson. Quite promising, isn’t it?” “Ah, the younger Denton”

Of course, Lawrence had already been updated on everything that happened that night, along with the files of every single UNATCO employee.

”I think it would be wise to keep an eye on him” ”Listen, kid...” - The Veteran cleared his throat - “Why don’t you take one week off and come visit your old man? Sounds like you could use a break” “I can’t. You know how much work my position demands”

The younger man looked around and his eyes fixed for a moment on the framed photos on the armory desk: pictures of the siblings and mother he never knew as the NSF killed them many years ago - his father never hid to him how not too long after he adopted him, how happy he was to have a family again. Pictures of them together, before becoming a MJ12 Agent, back when his smiles were sincere...

“Aren’t you tired son? Not even a little bit? I know you don't like to hear criticism of your superior, but...” “Sir Simons is magnanimous enough with the workload he entrusts to me already. If anything, I’m not doing enough” “Not doing enough?! Son... You ARE aware of what I’ve heard, right?” “Naturally” - now Lawrence’s voice was so low and similar to the FEMA director's that, if someone overheard their conversation, they would think he was in the room with them - “Nothing but the inferences of people who would give their lives to be in my place”

Sam dropped that topic, knowing how sensitive Lawrence was whenever his direct superior was mentioned in any way.

“I think you’d enjoy a little road trip, you know? Just like the good old times...” “The good old times are over and I wish you could understand that!”

He barely raised his voice, but the Veteran took a step back as if he were being yelled at. Lawrence turned his back to him and tried to hide the flush in his cheeks.

“Thinking about the past is useless. It only brings you more pain than what it’s worth” “Are you... Are you really Lawrence?”

The Agent stopped in his tracks for a moment, but he did not turn around to face his father.

“You can stay in the past, if you want. But no one is there anymore”

He left just as JC Denton walked in.

NOTES.

Ok first of all: apologies for my grammar errors. :D Always had troubles with the verbs.

No, Sam doesn’t know what Walton did and is doing to Lawrence. He suspects it but doesn’t want to believe it. Lawrence, on his part, can tell about his father’s suspicion especially since he obviously knows what is being said behind his back by the MiB and other troopers.

Walton, on his part, has gaslit Lawrence enough to normalize the abuse and keep him dependent. He managed to isolate him from both his friendships (who do not know about his Psychic powers and would “treat him as a monster” because “the world is cruel” and how he’s “the only person that looks at him without fear”) AND his family (telling him how Sam would be “disgusted” by “what you did” implying the abuse happened because of Lawrence himself).

Lawrence feels ashamed and guilty and fears that if Sam knows, he will never want to see him again, or reject him as his son.

#deus ex #The Crusader [Lawrence Carter]#my writing

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transmalewife · 2 years ago

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apparently i have to say smth so the readmore works

yep, I agree with almost everything here with one caveat. The climate assumptions I'm working under (net zero emissions by 2050) are not "ehhh" they are the recommended course of action and only option we have to avoid catastrophe. Also, like. Even ignoring the catastrophe, we have enough oil left for 50 years at current levels of consumption. Even if we reduce it, sooner or later we either make electric planes or we stop flying. And I personally think there's more important things to use the remaining oil on like medical uses of plastic or yeah, visiting family, than going sightseeing in venice.

Yeah I actually know a lot of people who fit the description of "middle class moved to richer country for work regularly visits family back home." I can think of maybe one out of dozens who definitely go back home forever without looking back if it weren't for money. Thing is, when people get settled somewhere, they tend to make families. At which point they're pretty much stuck between two places forever unless they divorce, split the kids and never look back. The people who would probably go home en masse are working class immigrants working min wage jobs in richer countries, and they don't fly home to visit families very often in the first place

"the fact is that *less time will be spent online*." I disagree. Again, just under half of all people don't yet have access to the internet. Even if so called "edge cases" like me, which actually means most people, since im right around the global daily average time online, cut our time in half, global time online would stay the same. also, you don't have to sell me on socialism itself. I broadly agree and it's just straying from the topic

here we're just gonna have to disagree. you see I believe that for all the horrible uses capitalism has put it to, (and the negative social consequences that leads to) the internet is a good thing. It is not a bug to be removed under global socialism, it is a necessary condition to achieve it. As well as other ideals you meantioned before. say, education removing the need for business travel. there is no other possible tool to implement equal access and level of education worldwide than the internet. also i'm sorry but "much of the planet is currently a parking lot," what are you even talking about. there's 5 times less cars than people in the world. the vast majority of people don't drive. I haven't even been in a car or on a parking lot since like december. This is an extremely american perspective. to most people from europe america looks like a dystopian car worshiping nightmare. it is not however much of the planet.

not sure what you mean here. like yeah tourism under capitalism has capitalistic effects. that was the point of this post. trying to imagine tourism under socialism

"Broadly, problems of sanitation, etc have been solved." again, what are you even talking about? a fourth of all people don't have access to clean water. due to climate change and droughts, people in 'developed' countries don't have drinking water. Bc of the curent drought in spain towns are being supplied with water from a lake that farmers dump literal shit in.

cool, again. I was just looking for ideas on how to do it in the 21st century through a leftist perspective

Also regarding your tags. Not every disabled person needs a wheelchair. I don't. you can carry me down the 4 floors from my studio apartment and stick me in a wheelchair all you want, won't change the fact I spend about a fourth of my time in winter sick in bed with a severe cold. Or that I'm chronically fatigued and if i go outside, whether i need to walk or not, I will make myself sicker and more tired. Not to mention there's a literal fucking plague and the thing capitalism specifically did that killed millions of people was specifically forcing everyone to go outside. I know socialism will accomodate disabilities, again, I agree with socialism! you don't need to convince me! I know habits are hard to break but I swear i am on board with this. But the point is sometimes accomodating disabilities is letting disabled people form friendships and get their education in ways that don't require going outside, or maybe speaking, or maybe having to shower every day. The internet can do that, and I don't think anything else can.

does anyone have any leftist reading on the subject of tourism to recommend? Specifically about how travel for fun, education, sport, friendship or whatever might work in a communist or anarchist or socialist society. Because like yeah, open borders or no borders whatever, cool. But that usually only gets discussed in the context of permanent immigration

Idk I guess I just find it hard to imagine how it could be organized since where I live the most obvious ways capitalism has made things worse over my lifetime have all happened because of and through the lens of tourism. Rents literally doubling over the last five years, while the standard of living falls because apartments are bought, split into tiny pieces and renovated to accomodate a couple days of living at most. The specific kind of gentrification that is NOT being pushed out by richer people moving in permanently, who might cause more expensive shops and services to replace the affordable ones, but do still need the basic necessities everyone does to live. Instead, all hairdressers, repair shops, clothing stores (especially thrift shops), pharmacies, post offices etc etc close and are replaced by luxury boutiques, clubs and stores whre you can only buy snacks, alcohol and microwave meals. Restaurants and bars hiking up prices because most of their clients come from places with stronger currencies etc etc.

At the same time though I believe travel is a crucial part of a fulfilling life for most if not all people. I believe people have the right to see and appreciate the culture and history of other places and also like... maybe go somewhere warmer and lay on the beach sometimes, even if they prefer to live and work somewhere colder. Or go skiing even if they chose to live somewhere warm and without mountains. Or even just like... vacation in a big city if they live in the countryside and vice versa. Or pop over to another continent to visit an online friend maybe. Although obviously intercontinental travel would have to be hugely limited until and unless we find ways to do it that don't destroy our planet.

At the same time some precautions do have to be taken to protect historical and especially sacred sites. Like, I don't think endless crowds should be allowed to trample through historical buildings and also open borders obviously doesn't mean white tourists get to go camping on Uluru. But on some level I do believe everyone who wants to should get to see Venice at least once in their life. But that's probably not feasible so like... who gets to decide? On what merit? Are historians, artists, journalists privileged? Or should it be a lottery?

Also I think there's a significant amount of tourism that would simply die out if going to that place wasn't a status symbol. Like you cannot convince me that if you spend 2 weeks by the pool in an enclosed luxury resort it makes a difference that it's on Hawaii rather than like... in florida. And then theres places like the Hamptons. What the fuck is the point of the Hamptons, other than bragging rights?

Obviously I know none of this is even remotely the main pressing issue to solve about a potential communist society, but then again, that's why I'm asking for reading materials, because it so rarely gets discussed. I mean I bet Marx wrote about it, which, great, point me to the relevant fragments please and I'll have a look but also this is an issue where a modern perspective would be really important. I don't think Marx, for all his wisdom, really has a solution to "what are the ethics of taking an 8 hour flight to visit a tumblr mutual".

Or maybe this whole thing is me being cynical and this is another place where things would sort of just regulate themselves. Anyway. Send me reading recs and let's very unscientifically try to check if it could work. Do try to be honest, like I've been several times as a kid and I would still go again in a heartbeat.

btw the goal of the poll is to get some kind of percentage that can be compared with the world population and how many tourists venice can support per year, though I obviously know tumblr skews mainly american and european

#mine.#they weren't lying about leftist infighting huh?#like this is so funny to me I just wanted a book rec. we agree on almost everything that matters. were not gonna save the world #if this is how it goes

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simpxxstan · 2 years ago

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leave me loving you (knj series)- Chapter 1

pairing: idol!namjoon x reader

genre: angst, fluff, exes to lovers, idol au

summary: love is easy. marriage is hard. especially with kim namjoon. it’s only for your daughter’s sake that you keep in touch. but when feelings linger, can you ever move on from the past?

word count: 4k

rating: 13+ (everything is sfw)

warning: a large dose of angst. I may or may not have teared up while writing this. topics of divorce and pregnancy.

a/n: hi! I’ve been away from tumblr for more than a month now, because I’ve been really caught up with work and studies :(. Missed JK’s bday too, but here I am to post this as a belated celebration! Happy Birthday Jungkookie! All of the love in this world to you, angel. The original intention was to finish this series by Namjoon’s bday, but I don’t think I will be able to write that fast. This is for my bestie, @mommyofpinkears I hope you like this, babe! Thank you for reading! All of your support is so so appreciated, love y'all! Enjoy!

You flick from one channel to the next on the television, your mind in a completely different place. With every passing minute, your tension just increased, and you gulped down larger sips of the ice tea you had made yourself. It was past 10 o’ clock, and Namjoon had still not brought Byul back home.

It did remind you of the old days, sometimes. How the father-daughter duo would disappear for long hours, visiting some park or the other, ice skating in the rink, singing at the kid’s karaoke, or taking a walk down the Han river in the peace after the sunset. Even then, you’d be super worried when they would return home late. But somehow, there was some kind of ease in your mind then. You knew that no matter what, Namjoon would bring her back home. And he’d come back to you too.

The trust was still there. You knew Namjoon too well to think he wouldn’t dote on his daughter and bring her home safely. The only person you were worried about was Namjoon.

You didn’t want to repeat the incidents of last month again.

You both had to make your hearts into steel, even if it was for Byul’s sake.

Just then, the bell rings and you walk up, rushing to the front door to open it and find a cutely asleep Byul in Namjoon’s arms, while the man himself was looking at you with a smile.

“She’s tired.”

You can’t smile, not when you were so worried just a moment ago. “Where did you take her?”

“To the amusement park. The new one? In Gangnam.”

You nod, and extend your arms in order to take Byul into your arms.

“No, let me put her in bed. She’ll wake up.”

Your eyes become sterner, as you glare at Namjoon, whose face takes up a mildly begging expression.

“Please?”

You can’t not be melted by his puppy eyes.

You never could resist them.

You step aside, letting him walk in, and he walks straight to the bedroom, knowing very well where the rooms were. You shut the door, put the TV on mute, and walk into the bedroom, just to see the big man trying his best to gently tuck in the tiny girl, who had a smile on her face as she basked in her Appa’s warmth. You bit your lip to stop the tears from rushing to your eyes. When Namjoon finished, he kissed right in between Byul’s eyebrows, and whispered goodnight to her. Then he looked up at you, and walked out of the room. You shut the door and walked out too.

You could see the tears gathering up near his eyes too.

“Did you two have fun?”

“Hmm, I think she did. Although she was a little scared during the rides, it was good.”

“And you?”

He looks at you with a soft smile, his eyes wistful. “Hmm, me too.”

You want to hug him so bad. He’s literally asking for it, with those dimples popping up slightly, his hair fluffy and soft, the blonde wearing off. But you won’t. You’ve mentally scolded yourself a million times to not lean into physical touches. It would honestly be the last straw.

“Did you eat dinner?”

“Yeah, we ate ramen and corn dogs. She really liked the corn dog, has she tried it before?”

“I don’t think so. I thought it would be too fiery for her, but I’m glad she liked it.”

He nods. You take in his outfit, a light beige hoodie and plain jeans, but he looks… so fine. You regret your decisions for the nth time.

“Umm, Y/N, I had a favour to ask of you.”

You nod, urging him to continue.

“Byulie told me she has a parent-teachers meeting in school on Thursday. Can I come along, if that’s okay with you? I really want to meet her teachers and understand her progress.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “You’ve never been involved with her school work before, why now?”

“I don’t know, it’s just…”

“Do you think that just because I’m not as smart as you, I can’t raise her to be smart?”

You want to take your words back.

You really do.

Because he has the saddest look in his eyes now and you want to cry just by looking at him.

“No, Y/N, I didn’t mean that. I just wanted to see how she’s coping at school and stuff like that.”

“Well, Byul’s never had many problems. I’ve spoken to her teachers before, and they’ve all confirmed this. Plus our communication is really strong so even if she faces any difficulties, she doesn’t hesitate to tell me.

“That’s really good to hear.” He whispers quietly. Sincerity shines in his eyes.

“But I'd think she’ll like it if you come to the parent-teachers meeting.

You could finally see him smiling. “Are you sure you’d be okay with that?” Your heart ached. “Yes. Of course. You are her father.”

Judging by the look he gave you, you didn’t think this was the answer he expected. But it didn’t matter. He had already turned towards the door, turning once to say, “See ya on Thursday then! Please text me the details.”

You nod, opening the door for him.

He stopped in front of you, gently leaned towards you, and pecked your forehead.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

When you closed the door, speechless, a single tear ran down your eye.

___

Loving Namjoon had been a dream, until you woke up and faced reality. Wherever you went, cameras flashed in your eyes and you found your peers stealing glances at you, eyes burning with jealousy. It almost felt like a crime, dating and then marrying Namjoon. It was as if you had stolen him away from thousands of people. Hate comments on your Instagram, multiple rumours aimed to shame you, and the endless invasion into your personal life. It was something Namjoon had warned you about, but you were terrified by the scale of it. But even that was something you could manage. He, the boys and their company had helped you with those issues too.

However, everything turned bitter when you actually became pregnant. You both had talked about it, and Namjoon had always been ready to become a dad. He would often wistfully dream, with you lying on his chest, how he would drive his child to school every day, how his child would have his dimples but your smile, how he would spoil his child (to which you would lightly scold him), and how he would find another partner to go on nature walks with. You would laugh at his dreams, finding them adorable. You weren’t so eager to become a mother, you wanted to settle down more in life first, but you were sure Namjoon would be the best dad ever, and that made your heart warm. You couldn’t dream of having children with anyone other than Joon.

You still remembered that morning clearly. You had woken up and taken a pregnancy test after repeated bouts of vomiting and nausea in spite of no reason for food poisoning.

The test had, as you had expected, revealed positive.

You had woken him up gently, showering tiny kisses all across his face and neck. You knew this was his favourite way of waking up, and even before his eyes had opened, his cheeks had broken into dimples as his smile rose. “What’s up, baby girl?”

“Namjoon-ah!”

He opened his eyes at your mock urgency, brows raised in anticipation.

“Who’s ready to be a dad?” You had shown him the little tool, showing a red line, indicating your pregnancy.

His face had gone from shock to disbelief to surprise to sheer utter joy in a span of ten seconds. “Really?” He sat up, holding you in his lap. You nodded, the widest smile on both of your faces. “YAYYYY!” He had lifted you up as he stood up hopping slightly. Laughing, you begged him to put you down, but he showed no signs of stopping. He began to twirl you round and round, and then you said, “Joon, no really, I’m gonna vomit all over you, if you don’t stop right now.” Alarmed, but not in despair, he had stopped. “I’m sorry.” He kissed you on your forehead, your nose, and then your lips, deepening it slightly before the two of you became out of breath. “I love you, my baby mommy,” he said, booping your nose with his. “I love you too, Namjoon-ah.”

And then everything went downhill.

___

He arrived just ten minutes before the meeting was scheduled to start, panting as he ran into the school campus, muttering apologies to everyone. You hadn’t even spotted him in the crowd, but Byul had begun waving her hand at him, beckoning him to where the two of you were standing. Unconsciously, the edges of your lips curled up.

It had been his dream to come to school with his child. Even if it was in fragments, you did hope Namjoon was happy that his dream was coming true. The way his eyes were lit up, he sure did seem happy. He made his way through the crowds, which was not an easy feat as people instantly started gathering around him, recognising him as RM of BTS, and flocked him for autographs and selfies. He politely apologised, all the while, keeping his eyes on you and Byul. By the time he reached you, he was quite flustered, but Byul instantly hopped into his arms.

“Appa!” she smacked his cheek with a loud kiss, and he hugged her tightly. “You came!”

“Yes, darling. Of course I came.”

“How are you?” You asked him.

“Doing okay. Am I very late?”

“Nope, don’t worry. We still have about-” you looked at your watch, “Oh dear, we have a minute left! Let’s start making our way to the classrooms!” he laughed at your panic, but when you unconsciously clutched his hand and walked towards the classroom, Namjoon’s face lit up with the most beautiful sad smile, as his heart ached and leaped at the same time. His daughter in his arms, his angel holding his hand, this was nothing less than his ideal. Except it wasn’t the ideal.

___

Although the divorce had been your call, you had probably suffered the worst brunt of it. Being with Namjoon had been challenging, but at least you always had him at your side. When you had asked for the divorce, you had thought that the grass on the other side would be greener.

But it was a thought in vain.

The first time you had visited your regular supermarket, you had absentmindedly bought a ton of things that you would never use, but you had made it a habit to buy them for Namjoon. A special type of strawberry jam, his typical razor, the cookies he liked to eat with tea, a juice mix he had been waiting for a long time to buy but the supermarket had run out of stock. It was only when you had returned home that you had realised your mistake.

He had surely been surprised to see you at his door late in the night, a plastic bag in your hand, and Byul on your shoulders.

“Hi.”

“Hey!” He had smiled at Byul whose face had glown up with the same smile as her Appa, and stepped aside, asking you in.

“No, no I have to get back home. Just came to drop these.” You plopped the plastic bag in front of him. “I, umm, bought some stuff. Accidentally bought stuff you liked and then realised I have no use for them.” You laughed, so fake, trying to hide your embarrassment.

“Oh.”

He picked it up, and smiled again, “Thank you, Y/N-ah.”

“Umm, I’ll be on my way then.”

But Byul had started whining in broken words near your ear, “Appa, Appa please Eomma…” It broke your heart as you tried to shush her.

“Can I hold her?” He asked you, wistfully.

You looked up at him, stunned to say anything. Your brain short-circuited as your heart screamed to you, look what you’ve done, Y/N, her own father is asking for your permission to even hold her. “Yeah…” You slowly removed Byul from your shoulders, and placed her in Namjoon’s extended arms. He immediately engulfed her, his big body warming her up as she snuggled sleepily into Appa’s neck, her hands going round his body like it was a mountain she was trying to hold on to. “Please step in? I’ll just hold her for a while… I think she’ll fall asleep soon.” He peppered her hair with kisses, a fond smile on his face. You smiled at the sight, this was the best sight you had seen in the longest time. And you had dreamt about it for so long too- ever since you had found out about the pregnancy, you kept thinking of how Joon would be with his child- he would mould them into his little habits, fondly playing with tiny toys, going around zoos and parks to look at animals and plants, reading illustrated books together, their tiny body in contrast to his large one.

But now you had ruined your dream with your own hands.

You stepped into his house, and tiptoed to the sofa, where Namjoon currently sat down with Byul. After the divorce, you had continued to live in the house the two of you had shared earlier while Namjoon had moved into a new house closer to the BigHit building and the other boys. It was smaller than your house, and minimalistic to an extreme extent- just beautiful paintings from his private collection adorning the otherwise plain walls. His dog, Rap Mon, suddenly entered the room and climbed up the sofa to sit next to Namjoon and Byul. She giggled and instantly began petting it. Byul had probably been too young to remember playing with Moni as a child, but they had always shared a special bond. You muted your movements, careful to not spoil the moment. It was too precious to be spoiled. And too heartbreaking.

Joon looked at you just at the moment when tears spilled the threshold of your eyes. You immediately sniffed and wiped them away, whispering apologies. But then he had extended his arm to you and you had snuggled into his embrace, without thinking twice. It was probably wrong to do this, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t just sit in front of the love of your life and not want to be near him, especially when he was at his most vulnerable.

As soon as you had placed your head on his shoulder, he began stroking your hair, the same way he was doing to Byul. “My two favourite girls”, he would say. “And Eommoni?” you’d tease him, but he’d scrunch his nose and instantly reply, “She’s not in the list”, resulting in you giggling loudly.

The last thing you had remembered that night before falling asleep was that he smelt like you. It was probably because he was wearing your perfume on his sweatshirt.

___

Byul’s teacher somehow began regarding her as a special human species after she saw that her father was the Kim Namjoon. “Aah, Namjoon-ssi, I must tell you, your daughter is one of the brightest children in her class. She must have got that from you, considering that your intelligence is a well-known fact…” ending in a slight laugh, as she dropped her neckline even lower. A bitter taste spread in your mouth. He had always received such attention, and it had been quite easy for you to ignore it earlier when you were married. But now that… he was technically single, a silent fear rose in your heart. You quickly shooed it away to focus on the discussion Namjoon was having with the teacher, Byul carefully sitting in his lap, playing with her braids.

“I know she’s doing well in academics, but I also want to know how she’s faring in extra-curricular activities, like singing or art?” “Oh I know why you’re asking this, hmm”, the teacher wiggles her eyebrows with a smirk, as if she knows some secret that you don’t. Namjoon simply smiles, dimples on full display, and you feel that bitter taste again. You only notice that you’ve been biting your lower lip, when he grabs your hand, and squeezes it gently. He leans in and whispers, as the teacher rummages through some sheets to find something, “Stop looking like a pressure pot. You’re all red.” You realise he’s purposely turned on his charm, and it is actually producing results. The teacher shows you both all of Byul’s reports from the last term in her extra-curricular activities. As you dig into the details of her academic and extra-curricular records, Namjoon sits back into his chair, easing out as you take over the meeting.

Later, as you three sit in the cafeteria, he says, “Phew! She’s quite the flirt. Byul-ah, you have a funny teacher.” Joon winks at your daughter, who’s sipping on a milkshake. “No- she’s normally nice. Today she was funny.” As she slightly chokes on her drink while speaking, you pat her back trying to ease her, and you scold Joon, “Don’t talk to her while she’s drinking, Joon. Her drink goes down the wrong pipe.” He laughs at that. “What’s so funny!” “Nothing, the wording is funny.” “You’re finding everyone and everything amusing today. Even things which aren’t.” “Like her teacher’s behaviour?” “Yes like her teacher’s behaviour. Quite mean, I’d say, considering the mother of the child is right there and she’s ignoring me as if I’m non-existent.” “I’ve always had that effect on people, Y/N.” “The effect of reducing others to just background while you’re the focus?” “Yes. You know it all too well, Y/N-ah.” You become silent, suddenly remembering the party where you had met him for the first time. Hobi’s new album’s listening party. You had been unable to take your eyes off him, although you were there just as a family friend of Hobi’s. You would’ve never got the guts to approach him, but luck had favoured you, when he had casually sauntered up to you, and introduced himself to you, all grace and smiles even in the casual atmosphere. You knew then why his fans went so gaga over him.

“Yes, I know it all too well, Joonie.”

He didn’t notice your silent statement as Byul began poking him in his chest, right above his ever-growing pecs, “Appa, let’s go to the park near Youngjae’s house, please? She tells me it’s so pretty!” Her eyes widened as she began describing the park, and you noticed that Namjoon was equally invested into this conversation. You had never had been as fond of nature as he had been, and his traits had flown smoothly into his daughter’s blood. “Y/N, is it okay if we go there now?”

“Are you free to go now?”

“Yeah, I took the rest of the day off.”

“Okay then. Let’s go!” Father and daughter nearly bounced as they stood up, and you laughed to see their excitement. It made your frozen heart so warm.

___

“When will you stop being cruel to yourself, and just admit how you feel?” Sana asks you over another glass of wine, the two of you chilling out in her apartment as both Byul and her kids have fallen asleep in the kids’ bedroom after an intensely wild play-session, and her husband is out of town. “I don’t know what I feel, Sana.”

“Well, you certainly don’t feel like leaving him outside your door every night. And being heartbroken every time you see Byul because she looks exactly like him.”

“I know these things. I took the plunge despite knowing these things would happen. But you know as well as I do that the reasons why we split haven’t changed yet.”

“But other factors have worsened, Y/N.”

“Oh dear, stop talking like a scientist.” You both laughed, because Sana was actually a molecular chemistry scientist. The laugh broke your conversation, and you were further distracted by a text on your phone, as Sana stood up to bring some more snacks from the kitchen.

Hi Y/N-ie! Sorry if this is weird but- have you and Joon fought recently?

It was a text from Jimin. Another text quickly popped up below.

Aish, I’m sorry this is really out of the blue- I haven’t even visited y’all for some time. Sorry if you’re sleeping or uncomfortable.

You smiled at the continuous apologies, and you typed back a text.

No, Jimin, I’m awake, although Byul has fallen asleep! And if you’re gonna apologize so much, I’m seriously going to block your number.

He quickly sent another text.

Haha, sorry- oops I did it again, oh gosh!

You laughed at that, and again texted him to calm down. Then you saw the message that Jimin had sent first. Why would he think that you and Namjoon had fought? You had parted ways quite peacefully last evening when he had dropped you both home after your exploration of the park.

Nope… we haven’t fought. Is something wrong?

You waited for the reply, and it pinged up.

Oh. I assumed wrongly… he’s just a little sad. Idk he’s behaving the same way he did when you guys would quarrel earlier.

Sad?

Really? How is he behaving?

Again a pause.

He’s not talking, just staring at the world without seeing anything, and chugging down his drink. He couldn’t even record the song we were supposed to record today properly. He kept fumbling up the rap. Quite unusual on his part, that’s why I wanted to ask you.

Oh. This was really unusual. You had never known that he would react like this to your quarrels, and while it made you guiltily happy that your fights would affect him like this earlier, it spread a dark feeling in your mind now. Why was he behaving like this? What was on his mind?

Before you could reply, another text pinged up.

I’m didn’t want to bother you, Y/N. Just wondered out aloud, and I guess it's making you worry. Please don’t worry too much, we’ll take care of him. Goodnight!

You sighed. It was so truly Jimin to not want to make you worry. You fought the physical urge to walk out of Sana’s house and drive straight to wherever Namjoon was to hug and talk to him to bring him to a better mental state.

Instead, you walked up to Sana, into the kitchen. “Hey, see what Jimin just texted me.” As you showed her the chats, you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. You were feeling so helpless and clueless. And a bad friend. A bad wife. A bad lover. A bad ex-wife even. You were just so, so pathetic.

And that’s why, when the tears started pouring out, you didn’t stop them. You just let Sana hold you in her arms, while you made her shoulder wet with your sobs. The pain just wouldn’t stop.

150 notes · View notes

clutterfield · 3 years ago

Text

GHOST BUSTERS

FratBoys! BTS x Comatose! Reader

Main mlist. Previous Chapter

Synopsis

You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.

Chapter warnings

Angst, Implied low self esteem, mentioned panic attacks and anxiety, implied emotional neglect by best friends, supporting character short death flashback

Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)

Chapter 7: The Ghost Witch

A/N. In honor of stopping the spread of Asian hate, and to celebrate the start of Bangtan's entry into being more widely known not only for their music, but also for their civic involvement in all things that matter, I dedicate this chapter to a much newer beginning.

🔮

People say happiness is a choice.

But what if...just what if you try to choose to be happy, try being the word, and yet you can't seem to feel anything but a constricting sort of self imposed rejection?

Or maybe it's just your anxiety killing you.

You've had panic attacks before, and you hated it--it's like being trapped between the chasm of falling down the stairs but you just hang there loosely, never falling until your breaths go back to normal and your brain rewires on its own, only to go back to that same dreadful feeling the next day, over and over and over again.

But anxiety...anxiety is on a whole other level.

It never leaves.

You have never had a therapist before. Unlike Yoongi, you weren't so keen on opening up to your parents when you were a kid (and even now as an adult, you don't delve into serious topics whenever they visited). What could you say?

"Hey, mom and dad. Nice to see you. Did you know that your daughter isn't happy with herself so much she can't stand to look at the mirror some days?"

Highly unlikely.

Besides, in your family, showing mental weaknesses will only get a scoff and some long drawn out double lecture about 'when I was your age, I didn't have that kind of shit to deal with'.

And yet you were tired.

Existing was just tiring sometimes.

"You're thinking too much, mouse. "

You startle at the new voice, eyes shooting to stare at the spectre floating above you, your arms finding their way against the cool sheets of your bedroom.

Or former bedroom?

Well you weren't dead. Not yet anyway.

It was just weird to think about having your two bodies in two places at once.

The comatose one currently at MyeongDong Hospital connected to life support, and you in your ghost form or spirit form or whatever the fuck you were in the Bangtan's residence.

Moon Byul, ethereal in her white kimono and long red hair (a trait that would have had any man, particularly your best friend Yoongi bedding her faster than even Jungkook can run and that boy runs fast).

It had been two days since the seance and Eugene had all but left you to your own devices.

That is, have Byul hang around for awhile until you eventually woke up in your corporeal body.

She did say she was going to be your unofficial ghost guide.

You sigh, turning your head to stare at her pretty face. It was a shame really that she had died so young.

According to her brother, Byul had always been sickly as a young girl, and had long since known when her time was up --it was a trait passed down from the females of Yang to the next generation.

Grim reaper's eyes he had said.

And so one day, while it was storming wildly, Byul just drove out to sea and drowned herself.

It was a pretty morbid way to go.

"Tell me what you're thinking about, mouse. " Byul hovers to the side.

Her voice surrounds you like a siren underwater. Cool and soothing is what she is.

You had never met Byul before until now but you did see pictures of her all over the Yin Yang Quatro.

Eugene doesn't talk about her much, probably hurt over the fact that she chose to die and leave him alone, but with what little you could gather, the briefest tremble in his voice told you a lot about his love for his only blood relative.

"Just...how we're going to go about things tomorrow. " You confess, twirling your hair distractedly.

The ghost hums, floating over to take a good look at your face and you blush. It isn't everyday that a beautiful ghost looks at you like that! Particularly not one who is in league with the Bangtan boys' in terms of being a god send.

She pokes your nose, another habit you've noticed she does while often with you (or as often as the day she nearly gave all seven of your best friends an aneurysm by dashing towards you as if to attack).

"Don't worry, mouse. The ghosts associated with every memory you have in this community are not savage creatures. The only dark entities are the ones beyond the veil where I come from, and I have yet to sense one of them."

The at least for now is unspoken and that's what makes you shudder.

"Oh, you're fading, mouse. " She lightly grumbles, irritated but not at you.

True enough, your fingers become transparent, only to go back to its undisturbed, solid state once Byul touches your hand.

Perhaps that was the thing about having Byul as your spirit.

Eugene had explained that the planes of where you are now were conflicting, hence you were merely limited to a human form for a couple of hours until you would eventually fade away.

It was the limit of Eugene's strange abilities--he can't make people rise from the dead (nor from a coma apparently), but what he can do, is make them visible to their loved ones if the desire of the person was strong enough to sustain one's soul.

Your desperation to come back to your best friends was what helped you over come being stuck in a spirit form.

At least for a good while.

All good things must come to an end, you suppose and by then, only Yoongi for some odd reason was the only one who could get a sense of you.

Maybe because he was the most emphatic out of all of them despite him keeping to himself most of the time.

When he wasn't loving girls and leaving them that is.

"Thank you," you murmur, feeling the after effects of Byul's energy.

"Sleep, mouse." She says, and your lids flutter shut.

🔮

You awake to arguing.

"Stop, don't open those fucking blinds, she might disappear!"

Rolling to your side, the heated whispers cease as a hand caresses your cheek.

"Forgive us, baby. You can sleep more if you're tired, yeah?"

Blinking back the dimness of the room, you hoist yourself up to mild protests, arms coming to encircle your shoulders as you properly take a good look at the people inside your bedroom.

Seven shadows shift awkwardly, one letting go of the curtains just as the dust mites dancing in the light seeping through from your large french windows settle down into nothingness.

Oh.

"Guys? What are you doing here? Don't you have to be at the company?" You question, wondering if they skipped training with the staff.

Your boys were after all the brains behind the KMJP Industries, an affiliate of their adoptive father's huge billion dollar conglomerate even while doing university and you know they were working themselves to the bone recently to produce new tracks for contracted foreign artists and some other related stuff.

It was such bad timing that you got injured and you somehow felt guilty about taking precious time away from them.

From the corner of your eye, you spot a Starbucks bag and can't help but wrinkle your nose at the smell.

"That smells like shit," you blurt, only to shut your mouth at the realization that the boys might have brought you dinner, and you were being relatively ungrateful.

But...could you even eat at this point?

Eyeing the caramel macchiato and bread that Namjoon was slowly pulling out to sniff with furrowed brows, you decide you can't even if you want to.

Because it smells fucking rotten. What the fuck.

Suddenly, Hoseok shouts as Byul glides through the walls, "Mouse, don't eat anything. "

You hide a nervous chuckle as Namjoon nearly drops the bagel and coffee, only for Jimin to catch the entire thing and hand it over to Jin who promptly takes a whiff in mild consternation.

"But...it smells fine?" He mumbles more to himself than you and you look to Eugene's dead sister for explanation.

She flips her hair daintily before taking a hover to her new spot in the corner. "To you it does, human. But to her, it will smell sour and unappetizing, as she is trapped between wakefulness and death, her senses will not work properly. Even I cannot predict what she might feel about random everyday objects. "

Ever the curious pup, you hum with an ask, "What does it smell like to you, Byul?"

She shrugs after a moment and you realize the boys were as curious to know the answer as you were. "Like nothing. I am already dead and everything connected to my past self has left my memories like dust. "

You frown. "Oh, but you still remember Eugene though?"

She smiles at you mysteriously. "My brother is not a part of my past. He is a part of my present and always will be. "

Does that mean--oh. Oh!

You remember Eugene having once told you back when he had to leave you alone to manage Yin Yang Quatro not to worry about intruders as you wouldn't be alone.

You assumed he meant his pet dog Kimchi.

But now you are starting to think otherwise.

So Byul still haunted the place, huh.

It would've creeped you out, but seeing as you're on the way to following her footsteps if you couldn't get back, it was like you weren't even afraid at all.

Byul had this calming effect about her that made your heart serene. If anything, you might just marry Byul in the after life if things didn't work out with the boys.

You think you saw a twitch on the seven men's faces but ignore them entirely in favor of your specter.

She leans forward from her position against the wood, "I scouted the perimeter, and we are going to start with the shelter, if that's alright with you, YN?"

Byul switches topics fast and you can't help but freeze, alerting the boys to your discomfort.

The youngest three immediately gravitate towards you, glaring at Byul.

The shelter?

"What do you mean the shelter?" Hoseok frowns.

You had never worked at any shelter before as far as they know.

You gulp.

Here's the thing.

Although the boys spoiled you for everything, not even letting you pay a dime for groceries, and even giving you an allowance apart from the money your parents sent and your two part time jobs, you had been roped into taking a third not because you needed to but because you wanted to.

"The, um...it's," you exhale loudly, causing all men to shift their concerned gazes to you. "It's a facility for homeless people. "

They sigh in relief. "Oh. That does not seem so bad?" Taehyung hums in light appreciation, though he can't help but wonder if the money they were giving you wasn't enough.

The others seem to think so as Yoongi questions, "Do you...work there?"

Of course they wouldn't know.

They didn't know about Eugene, nor did they know about your apartment.

The only job they were aware of (and of which you had to beg them to let you work in) was at Starbucks.

You shrug. "It's a voluntary kind of thing. "

You try to hide your grimace as Byul raises a well sculpted brow at you (how the fuck does a ghost have perfect eyebrows on?!).

"You didn't tell them?"

They swivel to her and you wince.

"YN?" Jin's no nonsense tone sends you spiralling into a sort of dreaded abyss as sweat breaks out of your chin.

Forcibly closing your eyes, you tip your head back already feeling an oncoming head ache.

"It's a home for prostitutes. I occasionally help out."

You cover your ears at the multitude of angry outbursts, having had already expected it in the first place.

If this is how they would react to that little tidbit in your life, you wonder how you would even go through all of your memories with them, much less talk to ghosts at this rate.

This was troublesome.

FLASHBACK

"What do you mean they have to be the ones to learn everything about her? Can't she learn it herself?" Eugene runs a hand through his handsome face.

"...okay that is an absurd statement, I retract. But! But isn't that an invasion of privacy in your ghost world rules or something, sis?" He gripes, uneasy about the entire thing. Your boss cared about you to that extent.

Byul could only smirk. "If you're worried about her, just think about the results. Those men of hers don't seem to know a thing outside of the life they had created for her inside this house. "

Eugene pauses. "So basically you're telling me that YN has to open up to them so they could collect every fragment shard of her soul that's somehow being absurdly kept by a bunch of your ghost friends in the netherworld? And it has to be those seven assholes?"

"Yes. "

"...Fine. You all heard that?" He glares at the seven men while you merely shrink back behind Eugene, trying your best to avoid all the eyes on you.

At this point, you just wanted the ground to grow a mouth and swallow you whole.

Because you were about to let Bangtan Sonyeondan in on every little secret you had kept from them all these years.

"If only you hadn't been fucking around, this would be a lot easier." Eugene lowly mutters but you hear and you couldn't have agreed more.

If only.

FLASHBACK END

Next chapter

🔮

Chapter Taglist

@potaetopic @yoongiigolden @missseoulite

#bts army #bts fic #bts imagines #bts x reader #polyamory #bts angst with a happy ending #bts fanfic #bts ot7 x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jeongguk x reader #jungkook x reader

75 notes · View notes

solemnly-mischievous · 3 years ago

Note

Could pls you write something where the marauders and you are taking about your safe word and boundaries?!

Thanks! <33

hell yeah! remember kids, if you're gonna engage in Practices of Dominant and Submissive Dynamics, these talks are always very important and essential and good. consent is sexy. stay safe. all that.

also, i'd never claim to be an expert on the topics they talk about - if i get anything off or word anything poorly, do tell me and i'll amend that.

anyway also the things they put on their hard limit list are not off the table for future fics, so keep that in mind :)

Contains: Fluff, discussion of bodily fluids & cnc, mentions of degradation and praise

Word count: 1.5K

------

It's about one AM in the Gryffindor common room, and all your housemates are asleep—the only sound you can hear is the crackling of the fireplace and the sound of pages turning as Remus flips through his book.

You're laying in Remus' lap, his fingers combing absentmindedly through your hair and massaging your scalp. It feels so good.

"Oi—watch the cakes—"

"You watch your stupid feet, Prongs, you're stepping on my cloak—"

"—I swear to god if you drop the pumpkin juice, I'll throw you and your bloody cloak into the fire—"

"Merlin, James, shut up, you're so loud—"

You hear Remus huff a soft laugh and you smile along: Your boyfriends are many things, but stealthy and discreet are not one of them. One would think the infamous pranksters of Hogwarts would be better at sneaking around in the dead of night—but then again, who needs to be light on their feet when there are charms and Invisibility Cloaks?

James and Sirius enter the common room as quietly as they can manage—which is to say, not that quiet at all—each bearing a large plate full of midnight snacks and drinks they've retrieved from the kitchen. (The house elves are always more than happy to see them.)

"Aw, look at them," Sirius murmurs to James, and he nods, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he looks at you and Remus. It's certainly a heartwarming scene, and you'd be content to stay there forever, but something's missing.

"C'mere," you whisper to the boys, holding your arms out and making grabby hands. "Cuddle."

They're more than happy to oblige, setting the plates on the table in front of the couches and piling on, Sirius leaning against Remus' shoulder and James sitting on the floor in front of you and Remus. You reach out and tug at his curls affectionately—he leans into the touch.

"We brought you your favorite chocolate cakes," James murmurs to you. "The elves made more just for you—even they know you love them. Oh, and Remus—there's pumpkin juice for you."

"Thank you," Remus says warmly, ruffling James' hair as he reaches by to grab a goblet. "Did you say hi to the elves for me?"

"Yeah," Sirius says, "they miss you and they're going to file for divorce if you don't visit them soon."

"Divorce? From all of them?" Remus' tone is laughing. "I don't think I could handle the legal fees."

"Who'd get custody?" you wonder.

"Besides, Moony knows he's married to us, if not legally but in spirit. When you think about it, Moony's a homewrecker," James jokes, and Sirius cackles in delight.

Your eyelids droop as Remus scratches along your scalp lightly, and Sirius catches you. "Hey, hey, wait, we're not sleeping yet. We have things to talk about."

"Talk about them faster," you mumble, and James laughs.

"Alright, alright," Remus says amiably. "We'll make it fast so you can get to sleep soon, alright? But you're gonna need to be coherent and awake right now, okay?"

"Fine," you whine, and you ease into a sitting position so you aren't tempted to fall asleep right there.

"Good girl," Sirius murmurs, and you shiver involuntarily.

"Okay, none of that right now—clear heads, all of us," Remus says. He looks at you and gives you a small smile. "There'll be plenty of time for that later."

"So how do we start?" Sirius asks. "Do we just... talk about what works, what doesn't?"

"I think we should start with the safeword." Remus hums thoughtfully. "You guys know the stoplight system?"

You and James shake your heads; Sirius nods.

"Green for go on, yellow for slow down, red for stop," Remus explains. "It's important to check in consistently, so we can be sure everything's alright."

"Wait, so yellow is..." You trail off.

"Yellow is, er, we don't need to stop, but I'm not one hundred percent comfortable or confident in what we're doing right now, so can we slow down and talk about it or change what we're doing?" Sirius explains, and you nod.

"Ah." You think about it. "Right, yeah, I think the stoplight system sounds fine."

"Same," James says, and Sirius voices his agreement.

In all your time at Hogwarts, the early years especially, never in a million years would you have thought you'd be here right now—in a polyamorous relationship with the troublemakers of the grade, discussing safewords and kink negotiations.

But what's life without a few surprises?

"We can all use the colors," Remus adds, "even if we're not the one subbing. Anyone can check in at anytime. Okay?"

Once that's been established, he pushes forward with, "Okay, so nitty-gritty: What are our boundaries? What do we not want to touch with a ten-foot pole?"

"No bodily fluids," James puts forth, "except for, well, you know. Just spit and come, I think. No blood or piss or anything like that."

You nod. "I don't wanna draw blood. Pain is okay, like bruises and bitemarks or the like, but I don't know about actual... wounds and stuff. For now, at least."

Remus nods. "Absolutely."

"Oh," Sirius says, looking vaguely bashful—which is a sight, because the Sirius Black, looking shy? "Um. I like to dom, right? Like usually, I do. But when I switch and sub, er, I don't like to be degraded. I love doing the degrading, but I don't know about being the degraded one."

Knowing Sirius' past, you understand completely. The rest of the Marauders nod as well, and James shifts towards Sirius, leaning against his leg in a comforting gesture. Sirius smiles at him, soft and affectionate.

"How about you, Moony?" you ask Remus.

"Hm." He thinks about it for a second. "I don't think I would want to do consensual non-consent."

"What's that?" James pokes at Remus' leg.

"Like, when you agree beforehand that a scene is going to be... Non-consensual. Usually, it's so the sub can pretend to struggle and protest and fight back and such. It's a fantasy, kinda like a coping mechanism, and I get it, and I respect people who do like it, but I don't think it's for me."

"So, all in all," Sirius summarizes, "No bodily fluids, no blood, no forced fantasies."

"Sums it up about right," James agrees. "And no degradation for when you're subbing."

"Yep."

"If at any time we think of something that we want to add to the hard-limit list," Remus says, "just say it. Even if it's the middle of a scene or anything, consider this a priority."

Sounds of agreement and understand come from the three of you.

"Also, just for a semi-reference," Sirius says, "I'm a switch, with a lean for being dominant. Remus is... I think, just dominant?"

Remus inclines his head. "I've never had the urge to sub, yet. Again, things might change."

Personally, you thought the idea of Remus on his knees, begging for the three of you, was very appealing, but that's up to Remus to decide.

"I'm also a switch, but I don't know if I have a lean," James pipes up. "I enjoy both equally, it just kind of depends on the moment."

Sirius nods, then looks at you. You're in the middle of leaning over James' head to nab a chocolate cake from the platter—the epitome of grace and dignity.

"I'm a switch," you say, chocolate cake in hand, "with a submissive lean. Like, I think... I think one day, I'd like to try to dom. Maybe. But usually I'm more than happy to sub."

"What a well-balanced group we are," James comments, and Remus snickers.

You yawn right on cue, and Sirius laughs. "Getting too tired, are we?"

"Yeah, but! I was absolutely clearheaded through all that. Fully concentrated. No distractions."

James eyes your chocolate cake.

"One distraction."

"I suppose we can talk about other things another night," Remus says, as your eyelids flutter again with tiredness.

"Other things?" James asks.

"Yeah. Specific kinks, stuff we'd like to try. Rules, corresponding punishments..." The werewolf winks at you. "Rewards."

"I like rewards," you murmur sleepily.

"For another night," Sirius agrees, yawning as well. He looks sadly at the two plates of goodies stacked on the table. "We got all that food for nothing."

"Nah, we can bring it back up to our dorm and charm it so it doesn't go bad," James says. "No worries."

"Right, right. Alright, you grab one plate, Remus grabs the other, I'll take her back up."

"Hey, why do you get to take her?"

"Because I said it first," Sirius maintains, like the dignified adult he is, and scoops you up before any of the other Marauders can protest.

You fall asleep that night on James' bed, in his warm embrace and surrounding by the calming sounds of your boyfriends' steady breathing. All in all, it hasn't been a bad night at all.

#marauders #marauders era #harry potter #hp #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #marauders x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin imagine #sirius black imagine #james potter imagine #marauders imagine

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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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