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dickfics69 · 2 years ago

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Emotional Motion Sickness | Part 2

AO3

Rick x Daryl

Summary: Daryl gets sick before a supply run, and denies it vehemently. He is a big tantrum baby. Rick is constantly worried and drama ensures.

Chapter 2 Summary: The cold morning wears on and Daryl gets sicker and more irritable, lashing out at those who are trying to help him. He is fragile and does not believe he deserves any sort of comfort.

AU: This fic has some timeline and plot-point changes. They are still in the prison and the second Governor fight never happened. He died in the first one and the last few months have been them adjusting to all the new Woodbury inhabitants. Rick and Lori broke up when Shane was killed, but Rick still lost his mind when she died. Daryl and Rick have just recently gotten together. Farmer Rick era is lot shorter than in the show. An original character is introduced for plot furthering purposes. Also this is Daryl on the cusp between feral Daryl, and 'I will protect my people within an inch of my life' Daryl, because it's fun to write both

Content warning: adult language, sickfic, mess, snot, bodily functions, hurt/comfort, vivid nightmares, adult content, 18+ for eventual smut (still deciding hehe), original character

Word count: 2.9k+

My Personal Daryl Dixon playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2PrdzgwtCiUgwDLLBy5C4g?si=c83773b44c964bb1

As always ty to @dumbslxtclub for editing and hyping me up

pls enjoy and feel free to leave comments :)

Chapter 2: Daryl is Daryl

Daryl stood motionless under the stream of icy shower water, willing himself to wake up from whatever nightmare he was about to enter. He couldn’t remember how long he’d been in there, but he knew he needed to get out before the freezing water rendered him as good as dead. The only semblance of warmth Daryl could feel was the hot trail of sticky liquid that flowed from his nostrils without inhibition.

With a wrist pressed hard against his nose, he sniffled back hard, hoping to quash the intense tickle that seemed to only get worse as the morning trudged on.

“Fu..huh…ck…HAH’EESCHshuU…Heh..h’AATChoO…Fuhc’heh’eeEITChuuU…

hih’EtSSCht…Nnng '' The sneezes ripped out of Daryl with full abandon, bending him at the waist and scraping his throat in their natural glory. Launching into a coughing fit, he braced the walls of the shower for support as he surrendered to the mercy of his lungs..

When he had recovered enough to open his eyes he was rudely greeted with a wave of intense dizziness and specks of black invading his vision. He shut off the water and snorted loudly, attempting feebly to clear the congestion that had become a permanent feature in his nose. Jesus it’d be nice to breathe again.

Wrapping a small towel around his waist, Daryl was wracked with a deep shiver that set a chill deep in his bones, he knew would not go away.

He shook his mess of chocolate brown hair out like a wet dog and looked down at the pile of black clothes that he haphazardly grabbed from his old room at the top of the cell block. His faded jeans with one too many blood stains, one of Rick’s soft undershirts that he had stolen because it smelt like him, and the oversized sweatshirt Carol had found and gifted to him last winter.

Daryl dried and dressed, still unable to shake the chill that had made an unwelcome residence in the hunter’s sick body. He hoped that his leather vest would be the answer to keeping his body warm today. Not that he knew where it was. ‘Probably screwed up in a pile of Rick’s things’ he mused, picturing his bearded partner repeatedly tearing it off his body in hot fits of passion. A tiny smile crept into the corners of Daryl’s mouth, as his steadfast resolve softened slightly.

Lifting his head, Daryl caught a glimpse of his reflection in a distant, broken mirror. He walked up to the grimy basin to study his face a bit more closely. Regarding his own reflection was an activity Daryl seldom took part in, but he had to know what he was dealing with today.

Chewing briefly on the side of his thumb, he looked up and was taken aback by the sickly image before him. If he wasn’t breathing and continually fighting the urge to sneeze, he could’ve sworn that he’d died and turned into a walker. His skin was pale and clammy, the only colour coming from a feverish hue in his cheeks and the pink around his chapped, irritated nostrils. Daryl’s normally icy blue eyes were lost within the tired purple bags that sat beneath them, looking like he’d gone several rounds with the butt of a revolver. His damp hair stuck to his forehead, and a thin trickle of mucus was beginning to settle on his upper lip.

Growling to himself, Daryl picked up the rag in front of him and blew, and blew, and blew his nose hard. He was disgusted with just how quickly he filled up the fabric and how little relief it actually granted him.

The blowing disturbed the weak equilibrium his nose had established in the brief time he was out of the shower. His angry sinuses sought their revenge with an intense burning that no amount of sniffling, wiggling or rubbing could suppress. A slave to his body, Daryl had no choice but to grip the basin tight and strap in for the ride.

“heh…h’ATSCH uU… h’EITCHEW… Hh’EsTCHUU… Hh’GstcHh, GstcHh, h’EITch …heh…heh…HAH’EESCHshuU!” He collapsed to the floor with the sheer intensity of the attack. He sat pitifully against the concrete wall, welcoming the cool touch on his over exerted body.

Breathing hard and shallow, the hunter tried to remember the last time he’d ever felt so goddamned awful, but came up short. Tears pricked the corners of Daryl’s tired eyes, but whether it was from the sneezing or the anxiety that had risen up in his throat, he was unsure. Letting his cantankerous guard down for a second, Daryl allowed himself a moment of longing. He so longed to be held in the arms of his love, having his head stroked and being told that ‘everything would be alright’- a newfound luxury he vowed never to take for granted. He longed for warmth, for rest, for sleep, for vapour rub and hot tea. He longed to cry.

But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. The fall of The Governor, while decreasing the immediate threat, had brought more challenges with the residents from Woodbury joining ranks with those at the prison. More hands to help, but more mouths to feed. The demand for supplies seemed to have tripled overnight, putting immense pressure on Rick and the council. There were too many people relying on Daryl and he refused to be a burden to anyone, especially his love.

‘Pull yourself together Dixon, it’s just a fucking cold.’

Mental pep talk done, Daryl dragged himself up from the floor, splashed his face with cold water, snorted and headed for the door.

Stopping in his tracks, he heard the unmistakable voices of his best friend and boyfriend talking rather loudly down the end of the cell block. Now, eavesdropping wasn’t usually on the list of Daryl’s preferred past times, but today he granted himself the exception.

Opening the bathroom door a crack, Daryl committed to some solid mouth breathing and listened pointedly.

“I’m just asking you to talk to him-” Rick’s voice echoed through the draughty tomb. “He was sniffling and sneezing all night and I just don’t think he’ll make it through the next couple of days.”

“Do you two ever talk to each other in the watchtower or?” Carol laughed heartily. ‘Jesus, of course we do.’

“J…Jesus of course we do!” Rick’s spreading blush was almost audible as the two men shared the same thought. “Com’on this is serious Carol! I don’t know what to do, he’s just so damn stubborn. You’re his best friend, how do I deal with him?”

‘Deal with me?’ A ripple of pain burst through Daryl’s chest. He wrapped his arms around himself in order not to shake the door open with emotion.

“I know, I know Rick.” Carol comforted, “The thing is, Daryl is Daryl, and sometimes you gotta wait a long time for a personal victory.” She hesitated for a moment before continuing.“May I give you some advice?”

“Yes, anything, please,” Rick practically begged, which left Daryl feeling immensely worse, if that was even possible.

“Avoid smothering, give him space, and please try not to say anything stupid.”

They kept talking but Daryl’s heart burned. ‘So much for not bein’ a burden, idiot’. He was hurt and angry but leaned into the rage as he pondered his next move. Two options presented themselves- wait until they were gone and leave the bathroom with a skerrick of dignity, or or, bust into their conversation for a thinly veiled upper hand? Logically, he knew what to do, but hell! Daryl was Daryl right?

“Sorry I mbissed the dambnd mbother’s club mbeeting!” Daryl’s congested voice echoed through the tomb of the cell block, drawing concerned blue and green eyes to meet the feverish man. “Just leave mbe a ndote next timbe, mbaybe I can joind y’all!” He stormed through the pair, making a pitiful effort to bump into his boyfriend on the way past.

“Daryl, babe -” Rick reached out to grab his partner’s arm, only to be violently shaken off.

“-Dond’t fugcking touch mbe!” he warned with an unintended sickly, feral energy radiating from his eyes. A mini stand off between two lovers and a friend. ‘Welcome to the Daryl Dixon Drama Kingdom’ he mentally decreed before storming off in a delirious, guilt ridden rage. ‘You really are impossible.’

Carol and Rick stood standing in shock, almost unable to process what had just happened. She crossed her arms in frustration and he hung his head in defeat.

“Daryl is Daryl” he echoed, as his boyfriend’s descending footsteps drew to a silent finish.

—

Still reeling from the events of the shower block, Daryl stormed into Rick’s cell to look for his vest; shivering, snorting and sneezing all the while. Rifling through the piles of mixed up clothes he eventually found it tucked under the mattress of the top bunk. He threw it on and stupidly hoped he’d somehow feel better. Instead he sneezed thrice and launched into yet another waist-bending coughing fit. The dry barking was turning into wet hacking, and Daryl desperately tried to deny the sensation of drowning surging through his body.

He contemplated laying down to sleep a while before he had to pack the truck, but Rick could be back at any second, and with the way he’d acted this morning, keeping up appearances was of the utmost importance. So off he went to breakfast.

—

A quick survey of the room and everyone seemed to be chatting amongst themselves, unaware of the events that had plagued Daryl’s morning. Unfortunately there was a seat free next to Carol, and of course she had to look up at him and beckoned him over.

He slipped sheepishly in beside her, hoping that she’d just eat her cereal in silence, but luck was not on Daryl’s side this rainy season.

“Look at your hair! I swear it’s getting darker and longer by the day!” She ran a hand through his ratty layers, purposely feeling for a fever she could already tell was there. Daryl begrudgingly knew this, but welcomed the touch anyway.

“Mbmm.” he wheezed, losing the identity of his voice to the virus that plagued him.

“I could give you a haircut you know, get it out of those pretty eyes.” She cupped his chin, offering a little bit too much comfort, but Daryl didn't recoil.

“Ondly if I get the Carol super special,” he mused, sharing a genuine laugh with his best friend. Looking at each other for a moment, Daryl felt a twang of guilt deepset in his sternum. His war wasn’t with Carol, and it shouldn’t be with Rick but still, he needed to absolve something.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked earnestly.

She smiled fondly, “It’s okay to not be okay,” she whispered, and for a split second, they were the only two people in the entire prison.

*CLANG*

A sad plate of dry toast suddenly landed in front of Daryl, making him jump slightly from the bench. Trailing his tired eyes along the table, blue met blue as Rick placed himself next to the hunter at the table. He wore a mix of anger and disappointment across his face and inhaled sharply through his nose, almost mocking the sick man who could not. .

“Eat.” he spat, turning back to his own plate of food.

“Mb’not hungry,” Daryl mumbled, anxiously biting his fingers again.

“Daryl just-” Rick stopped him himself and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Fine, whatever, I don’t care” the exasperated man relented, heeding the advice of a friend.

‘Petty breeds petty, I guess.’

After a while, the people around him joined in on other conversations. Rick laughed heartily at something Michonne had said, and Carol had turned away to attend to a couple of the smaller girls that had recently joined the group. Daryl was sure he knew their names, but the fog that pressed on his head rendered his neural pathways useless today. He picked a bit at his piece of toast, a knuckle pressed hard against the base of his sensitive nostrils, determined to ward off another attack.

“Someone’s excited to see their Daddy this morning!” The melodic voice of one Beth Greene rose above the others as she walked over and handed baby Judith to Rick. The deputy’s face lit up as his daughter giggled with joy and made attempts to grab at her father’s beard.

The horrific dream that Daryl had pushed into a recess of his mind, crawled out suddenly to slap him in the face, forcing him to close his eyes and shake the traumatic images away once again. She’s alive, Daryl. You haven’t lost her. Opening his eyes, he scooted a little closer to Rick and reached up gingerly to tickle the toddler’s chubby leg.

“Mbornin’ lil’ ass kicker.” His voice, thick with congestion, wavered slightly but the little girl squealed with delight at the presence of her tough tracker man. Daryl adored Judith more than mere thoughts could comprehend. They all did. The possibility that something could ever happen to her constantly weighed heavy on his mind and he really hoped Rick couldn’t sense his vulnerable fear.

He could.

Rick didn’t need to mindread to see the upset behind the eyes of his beloved. For longer than they had even been friendly, Daryl had been plagued by vivid nightmares that rendered him anxious and temporarily catatonic. Rick was grateful that being ‘together’ meant that he could finally offer some comfort when the dreams got really bad, but the pain always lingered. Since birth, Judith and Daryl had been inseparable. He stepped up and became a surrogate father when Rick had lost his mind all those months ago and it melted the Deputy’s heart to see his daughter slowly cracking the tough exterior of a man who was truly pure to the bone. Their bond was a great beacon of light in the dark and dungy prison. But recently, Judith had become the lead protagonist in Daryl’s vicious subconscious and that. Broke. His. Heart.

Rick brought up his hand to tentatively stroke his thumb against another, and breathed out a pent up sigh of relief when Daryl's hand gave a much needed squeeze back. They looked at each other with a keen sense of each other’s mind, and allowed themselves to love and be loved for a moment.

The moment was fleeting though, as Daryl’s nose once again commandeered the man’s body. Eyebrows furrowing, nostrils quivering and eyes glazing over, he twisted his nose in a final spasmodic sniffle before clamping a hand to his face, and launching into a barrage of painfully suppressed sneezes.

“H’nngt, nngt, nngt…ha’kngt…h’nnxxt-tchu…h’Ggst…heh..heeeh…HA’mmmpht!” Daryl forced himself to muffle the last sneeze into his sleeve of his sweatshirt, a mess that was growing in tandem with his humiliation.

“Bless yo-”

“Dond’t.”

For the first time in his life, he longed to be far away in one of his nightmares, surely nothing could be as hellish as this? Snorting back as quietly as possible, Daryl folded the sleeve of his wet jumper into his lap. Fixing his gaze just above the heads of the people in front of him, he separated himself from the concerned eyes that sat either side of him. ‘Ahhh, when will death come?’

Shockingly, nothing happened and no one said anything. His head was pounding like the sputtering engine of his motorcycle, nose leaking like the roof in their penitentiary, and a violent buzzing bounced its way around his sinus cavity like a bee on the first day of spring. Still. He got away with it, giving the man a fighting resolve to get on with the day and hold steadfast with his denial. ‘I ain’t that sick anyways.’-

“-That’s one hell-of-uh cold you got there son!” Herschel Greene had entered the dining room and click-clacked his way over to Daryl on his crutches. ‘Shit’. “If ya got some time this mornin’ I can check you out, give you some relief for that congestion, hm?”

‘Don’t be a dick to Herschel, don't be a dick to Herschel.’

“Ahh, thagnks for th’ offer, but m’finde. I got allergies s’all.” Not a particularly convincing response on Daryl’s part, but with a wave of anxiety washing over him he just needed to get out of there.

“...Okay, sure then.” The vet responded without a lick of belief. - “Oh Rick, I’d move lil’ Judy a bit farther away if I were you, she don’t have that natural immunity yet, and we don’t want her catching whatever nasty bug Mr Dixon has.”

Yep. Yep. That was it. Daryl was humiliated, pained and deliriously febrile. But he didn’t care anymore. Not enough.

“I already goddamnd told you doc, I. Ain’t. Sick!” He shot up from his seated position, stepped over the bench and planted himself intimately close to Herschel’s face. If he didn’t have an audience before, he definitely had a sold out performance now. Someone tried to grab his hand. Carol? Maybe. Possibly Rick, but it didn’t matter.

He tore his gaze from The Vet to the rest of the room, an unhinged growl escaping his throat, not unlike a feral cat.

“Y’know what? Screw you all!” A final fuck you to the peanut gallery that showered him with a mix of shock and concern. He turned and stormed out of the room, forcing himself not to look back, to postpone the guilt that would inevitably hit him sooner or later.

Swinging the door open with haste, he almost bowled an oblivious Sasha down. But he kept walking, heavy boots beating down on the cold concrete floor. He dramatically spat some mucus onto the ground and then turned towards the armoury. It was time to pack the truck and go.

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diobrando · 3 years ago

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steph from my uni classes was the most insane white christian girl ive ever had the displeasure of meeting i hope her love life is going poorly

#straight up down to plagiarize my crappy work #called me a freak for not wanting thinking about marriage #said it was embarrassing that i was still at uni at 25 (while a 27 year old was also sitting with us and getting the same degree)#was barely 19 and dating a 30 year old like sis... sorry but your mom supporting that is just... sorry shes letting u get groomed 😬#when he dumped her and she started dating again said she would never marry a jewish person bc his faith was wrong #complained about being left handed 24/7 it got to the point where i snapped and said 'wow youre so oppressed for being left handed maybe-#-you should sue the school for inconveniencing you to such an extent' in front of a small group like goddammit shut up #she even got mad that i didnt take 499 with her like girl i dont want to be near you #she copied my schedule for a whole semester like pls no give me a break not happening ever again #she sucked and white girls like her are a threat to my sanity

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rubysunnday · 2 years ago

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I'll look after you (but I won't stop complaining about it)

requested by anon: Hi I love your Bridgerton sister fics! They got me to finally watch the show. Can I request an Anthony x Bridgerton!reader fic where it’s “4 times Anthony protects the reader and 1 time she protects him”?

requested by anon: Okay but, a twist to the story and instead of the typicall bridgerton!sister being stung by the bee, what if it’s Anthony, and everyone worries about him because of what happened to their father, and it’s specially the youngest bridgerton!sister who has a reaction like him in the show out of fear of losing her brother/father figure?

requested by anon: anthony x bridgerton sis where reader is around 15 and she has a really big fight with colin or eloise and she goes on a walk to calm herself down, falls down a hill and anthony finds her after looking for her for a while? but like fluffy pls

summary: four times Anthony protected his sister and the one time she protected him (albeit it was from the ton)

After Edmund Bridgerton, the 8th Viscount Bridgerton, died, his son, Anthony, made a promise. He sat at his father's death bed, staring down at the cold corpse that had once been his beloved father, and promised to look after his siblings - all eight of them - and to try, in any way possible, to guide them as an elder brother and as a father figure.

Whilst his siblings did not make this promise an easy one to keep Anthony kept trying. But right now, at this exact moment in time, Anthony wanted to throttle his sisters.

He vaguely wondered if anyone would find their bodies at the bottom of the lake, only to be yanked out of the thought by a pillow smacking him in the chest, the intended target oblivious as she glared at her twin.

"What is so wrong with wanting marriage?" Y/N yelled, throwing her hands up at her sister.

"It shackles you for life!" Eloise yelled back. "It silences you and your dreams."

"Oh, not this conversation again," Y/N groaned. "El, not everyone wants the same things as you. Is it so wrong for me to want to be married and happy? There are plenty of things you can still do when married."

"Not if you marry some old man who treats his women like objects!"

"Nope, absolutely not," Y/N said, getting up from the sofa, throwing the cushion she'd been hugging at Eloise, "I am not having this conversation again. Marry, do not marry, I do not care. But I am not going to sit here and listen to you call me an unintelligent woman simply because I dream of being married one day."

The door to the drawing room slammed shut. Eloise huffed, sitting back down on the sofa, crossing her arms.

Anthony pulled back a page of his newspaper, eyeing Eloise. "Is it so wrong for your sister to want marriage?"

"She does not understand what it can do to a woman, brother," Eloise replied. "The consequences, the silencing..."

"It can be a positive thing, El -"

"I have heard far too many horror stories of women being treated like cattle to view it as a positive thing. We all saw what nearly happened to Daphne when she came out."

"That was entirely my own doing -"

"This is what I mean!" Eloise exclaimed, sitting forward. "We do not get to choose our husbands. Our husbands choose us or our fathers and brothers choose them for us. Not once does a woman get a say in who she marries."

Anthony exhaled through his nose, seeing that he clearly wasn't going to get anywhere with Eloise. He folded his newspaper shut, setting it down on the coffee table beside him.

"I'm going to go check on Y/N," he muttered, standing up from the sofa.

Whilst Anthony knew Y/N and Eloise were devoted to one another, he also knew that when they argued, it got mean, very quickly. The marriage argument had been one they'd had many times before and it never ended well.

Eloise could never quite seem to understand why any woman would want to willingly be married. Y/N never quite understood why Eloise was so opposed to even the idea of marriage. What was so wrong with wanting a future for herself where she was ostracized to the edge of society?

It took him fifteen minutes and five servants to work out where Y/N had gone. As much as he adored Aubery Hall, he did curse its extensive grounds, especially when his siblings ran off.

Another ten minutes later and Anthony was finally down in the woods of the grounds, walking through patches of bluebells and snowdrops, peering behind trees and bushes.

He looked behind a fairly large oak tree and stopped, casting his eyes down. Y/N looked back up at him, her face blotchy from her tears.

She didn't say anything, turning her head away and looking straight ahead at where the river cut through their lands.

Anthony crossed his arms, leaning against the tree. "This is an argument you have had before. We all know how it goes."

"I know. Does not stop it from upsetting me or being infuriating."

"It reminds me of the argument I so often have with Colin about travelling," Anthony replied. "If he had it his way, he would be gallivanting around every corner of this world, spending as much money as he likes. I am the one who has to bring him back down and tell him that whilst we have money, we do not have enough money for that."

Y/N gave him a small smile. "It is utterly exhausting. I have tried to explain to her multiple times that marriage can be a good thing. If you find the right person."

"I can attest to that."

"Five words I never thought you would say, brother," Y/N said, looking up at him.

"This argument is not worth your tears, Y/N."

"Oh, I am aware, I was not crying about that." She looked a little sheepishly at Anthony's raised eyebrow. "I was so angry I did not look where I was going and I twisted my ankle, falling down a rabbit burrow."

Anthony stared at her for a moment. Then, he burst out laughing, leaning back, putting a hand on his chest.

"Yes, yes, laugh away," Y/N muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Are you alright?"

"No! I fell down a rabbit burrow!"

Anthony snorted. Y/N reached over and pushed her brother's leg, knocking him off balance. He stumbled to the side, catching himself.

"Are you going to just stand there and laugh or will you help me up and back to the house?"

"Alright, come on then."

Anthony held his hands out to Y/N and she placed her hands in his, letting him help her up to her feet, hopping awkwardly. She put her foot down and winced, pain shooting up from her ankle.

Without uttering a word, Anthony turned around. Y/N, snorted but climbed onto his back, using her good foot to propel herself up.

"I feel like I'm ten again," Y/N said as Anthony gripped her legs.

"I don't," he grunted. "When did you get so heavy?"

"Don't be rude. Come along then," she said, nudging him with her foot.

Anthony rolled his eyes. "If I fall down a rabbit burrow, it'll be your fault."

"Bloody hell."

Daphne whacked her sister with her blue mallet. "Language."

Y/N shot her a withering look. "It's just family, we are quite safe." She tilted her head up, looking at the tree. "How on earth are we to get that out?"

It was a well-known fact that Y/N Bridgerton did not know what gently meant. Especially when it came to pall mall. One well-aimed hit later, her purple ball was stuck up in the tree, nestled amongst the branches.

"We'll have to climb."

"No, Y/N, do not -"

Daphne trailed off as Y/N dropped her mallet and put her booted foot on a stump next to the tree. She pushed herself up, pulling her dress up over her knee and climbing up onto the lowest branch.

She could see the purple ball wedged between the fork of two branches. If she climbed up another branch and crawled forward, she could definitely grab it.

The panting of breaths came from below as Colin, Benedict and Anthony rushed up to Daphne, all looking up at the tree.

"Is she climbing the tree?!" Colin exclaimed, both delighted and slightly concerned.

"Of course she is!" Anthony snapped. "Y/N, get down at once!"

"Let one of the boys get it, Y/N," Daphne added.

"I'm up here now!" Y/N yelled down, climbing onto the second branch. "I might as well get it!"

Y/N crawled forward again, the leaves shaking at the sudden movement.

"Someone should get her down," Benedict muttered, following Y/N's movements. "Knowing our dear sister, she will fall down. She's not exactly gentle."

"Y/N!" Anthony yelled, moving to the bottom of the tree trunk. "Mother will kill me if you fall!"

"I've almost got it!"

Y/N leant forward, her fingers brushing against the purple ball. Instead of the ball falling into her grip, she lost her balance entirely and teetered forward and off the branch.

Her arms flailed as she struggled to find anything to grip on, her sibling's yells of panic from below silencing her own yelp of surprise.

Y/N was falling until she wasn't. Arms wrapped around her just before she hit the ground, her body smacking into Anthony's. The force knocked them both to the floor, Anthony taking down Benedict at the same time.

The three siblings hit the ground, hard. Anthony's head smacked against Benedict's chest as Y/N knocked her own head into her older brother's chin.

"Oh, my go - are you three ok?" Daphne exclaimed, crouching down beside Y/N and helping her sit up, a concerned hand on her back.

Y/N rolled off her elder brother and to the side, coughing slightly, winded from her collision with her brother.

"Anthony get off me," Benedict grunted, pushing his brother off him.

Anthony stumbled to his feet, swaying just a bit. "I'm fine," he muttered, dusting his jacket down. "Just another victim of Y/N Bridgerton."

Something landed on top of Anthony's head with a fairly loud thud. It rolled off him and bounced onto the floor, rolling down to Y/N's feet.

"Oh!" She said, bending down and picking it up. "I did get my ball after all!."

Y/N looked behind her frantically, desperately trying to find an escape as Cressida Cowper walked towards her, her friends walking alongside her.

She was not having a good day and she did not need Cressida Cowper to make it any worse.

"Y/N!"

Bloody hell. "Cressida," Y/N said, curtseying politely.

"You look beautiful. As ever," Cressida added snidely. "Anyone asked you for a dance yet?"

Y/N gritted her teeth. "No, not yet."

"Oh, shame. Mr Patrick, Sir Carter and Mr Norris have all written their names in my dance card."

"Well, I hope you enjoy all your dances."

"Hmm, I suppose I will."

Cressida brushed past Y/N, tipping her glass of lemonade onto her dress and down her chest. Y/N gasped, the cold liquid startling her. Cressida sniggered and sauntered off to another corner of the ballroom.

Y/N inhaled shakily, closing her eyes. She turned her back to the rest of the room, feeling her throat closing as the tears threatened to fall all over again.

A jacket sleeve brushed against her arm and Y/N knew instantly it was Anthony. He shielded her from the rest of the room as he unbuttoned his jacket and put it around her shoulders, handing her his handkerchief.

"Come on," he said quietly, taking her hand and pulling her along with him.

Anthony walked out into the corridor outside the ballroom and then into another empty room. He shut the door behind them and Y/N sat down heavily on the sofas, hanging her head low.

"I have half a mind to go yell at Miss Cowper," Anthony muttered, walking over to her.

"Not that it would solve anything," Y/N replied, straightening up. She dabbed under her eyes with her fingers, shaking her head. "Thank you."

"Whatever for?"

"Getting me out of there before I made a scene."

Anthony smiled softly. "If anyone made a scene, it was Cressida." He sat down next to her on the sofa. "We do not have to go back. We can leave."

Y/N shook her head, pulling Anthony's jacket tighter around her shoulders. "No. I do not want her to win. Give me five minutes and I'll be fine."

"Very well, then."

Y/N dropped her head to Anthony's shoulder, closing her eyes momentarily. "Thank you, brother."

Anthony kissed her forehead, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, squeezing tightly. "Anytime."

The rain lashed against the windows. A loud boom of thunder sounded from directly overhead and Y/N flinched, digging her nails into the leather of the chair she was sat in.

She didn't know what it was about storms that frightened her so much - whether it was the loud noises, the bright flashes of lighting, the sound of trees being felled - but this was the worst one they had had in years.

Anthony glanced up at his sister, pausing his writing. "Alright?"

Y/N nodded tightly, clutching her book in one hand. "Fine."

Another boom of thunder and she closed her eyes, jumping in her seat. Anthony set his pen down and pushed his chair back, walking over to his sister. He snatched up her book, putting his thumb on the page she was on, and closing it to look at the cover.

Pride and Prejudice was written on the front, each letter covered in gold foil. "Would you like me to read to you?"

"If it means distracting me from this god-awful storm, yes."

Anthony smiled, sitting down in the chair opposite his sister. He opened the book again and found the start of the new chapter. "Colonel Fitzwilliam's were very much admired at the Parsonage, and the ladies all felt that he must add considerably to the pleasure of their engagements at Rosings."

Y/N leant back in her chair, closing her eyes. Anthony's voice was calm and didn't flinch once, even when lighting struck almost outside his study window. His mere presence had calmed her down from the panic building inside her.

As Anthony reached the end of the chapter, he glanced over at his sister. He smiled softly upon seeing that she was fast asleep, her head drooping to one side. He concluded the chapter, gently tucking a piece of paper in between the pages and closing the book.

It had been many years since he'd last carried anyone other than Hyacinth and Gregory to bed. Even then, they were beginning to get a bit too big and a bit too old.

Anthony gently lifted Y/N up into his arms and crept through the corridors of Bridgerton House. He laid her down on her bed and pulled back the blankets and duvet, placing them on top of her, smoothing the edge down.

"Night, Y/N," he whispered, standing in the doorway, a soft smile on his face.

Anthony did not regret marrying Kate Bridgerton neé Sharma one bit.

He just regretted his mother's penchant for big ball's and extravagant celebrations. Anthony had hardly had time to take in his new wife and admire her as viscountess - it felt as if the entire ton had been invited to the ball.

Almost an hour later, Anthony finally found his wife again, walking up to her and taking her hand in his, squeezing it tightly.

"I missed you," he murmured, leaning into her neck and sniffing.

Kate shoved him gently. "Anthony, behave."

"Apologies."

"Your mother seems very determined to introduce me to every member of the ton tonight."

"Again, apologies."

Kate chuckled, smiling widely. "I forgive you, my lord."

The string quartet began readying themselves for another dance, couples moving into position on the floor with practised ease. Anthony held his hand out to his wife, smiling.

"Care for a dance, Viscountess Bridgerton?"

"I would adore one, Viscount Bridgerton."

They danced three times in a row. Which was preposterous for any courting couple but unheard of for a married couple. But Anthony and Kate were so in love with one another, that no one seemed to really mind.

In fact, both were so enamoured with one another, that they did not seem to realise the line of people wanting to talk to them slowly dwindling down to nothing.

"Is it me," Kate said quietly, "or has no one been over to talk at us for a while?"

Anthony sipped on his lemonade and looked around, raising his eyebrows. "No, I do believe you are correct in that statement."

It was suspicious, Anthony thought, that they had been left alone for as long as they had. His eyes scanned the ballroom - he spotted Daphne and Simon, both pretending to look interested in a conversation with the Cowpers, and suddenly realised.

"I do believe my siblings are deflecting anyone that comes our way," Anthony murmured to his wife.

"Whatever do you mean?"

He pointed over to Daphne and Simon. Then he guided Kate's eyes to the left, where Colin and Eloise were listening to Lady Trowbridge.

"Oh," Kate said, understanding. She looked around the room, her eyes latching on to one Bridgerton in particular.

Y/N stood with Mr Dorset, pretending to be engrossed in Lord Lumley's conversation. She was surrounded by numerous other gentlemen, all waiting for her attention.

"Oh, Lord Bridgerton!" Portia Featherington crowed.

"I knew it couldn't last," Anthony muttered, turning his back.

"Lady Featherington!" Y/N exclaimed, pulling Mr Dorset with her as they walked over to the lady. "I have been meaning to ask you all night about your stunning dress."

"Oh, really? It's new in from Paris -"

And just like that, Portia Featherington forget entirely about the newlywed couple she'd been marching towards.

Kate caught Y/N's eye as she walked back to the wall. She mouthed a thank you to the younger girl, smiling when Y/N winked back at her, blowing her sister-in-law a kiss.

"I do believe, we have Y/N to thank for a bit of peace," Kate said, leaning into her husband. "She seems to have gathered an army to distract the ton."

Anthony looked over at her, a fond smile taking over his face. "Of course she did," he muttered. "Well, I suppose, annoyingly, I'm in her debt now."

"Is that such a bad thing?" Kate asked, letting Anthony wrap his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder.

"No," He replied, sniffing Kate's scent and pressing a kiss to her bare skin, "no, it is not."

#bridgerton!sis #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton sister #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton sis #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x platonic!reader

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ay4kshalatus · 3 years ago

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important notice 📢

hcs: tua season 1 where wanda!y/n and five jumped back to 2019 to save his siblings.

they teleported successfully.. but something unexpectedly happened to both of them. they're nerfed to teenagers. siblings looked alarmed when they see their long lost young brother with a stranger. "isn't just me or.. do i see little number five with a girl?" , "...love." , "..shit."

five didn't even try to discuss more about his disappearance to his worried siblings. y/n just give him a disapproval look of his brief explanation. "love, can u hand me the butter?", "sure." the siblings finally noticed their weird behaviors to each other. "love?", ".. oh yeah. she's my wife." , "mama mia, five has a wife!?", "five having a lover is least expected." well, allison is not wrong. y/n sometimes questioned why she fell for him.

the couple are stressed.. looking for the probability of why they have to go through their teenage years again. they looked through the wardrobes for clothes to wear... "i hate puberty." , "same love."

"at least we're going to experience teenage love with these uniforms. should we exchange notes too?", "really y/n? right now?"

finally! wanda!y/n take an action with her husband. she could easily control those commissioner's minds and take them off but marrying the five hargreeves.. has it's cons. with his hobby on doing massacre is rubbing on his wife. but she's much worse because she sometimes put her life on line for the sake of her entertainment. "love.. you're hot and shit but pls don't let them put their gun on your forehead." ,"can't make promises."

that time when they have to pretend themselves as klaus' children, five was never been this proud to his brother and wanda!y/n being supportive sis-in-law. they acted like proud parents lol.

wanda!y/n questioned herself about their relationship even more when his husband decided to get his "ex". they're married for few years now, having each other's backs but the male couldn't help but being attached to his old companion. she understands that the mannequin is the one that kept him sane through those 50 years of his life on the apocalypse alone so she let him be.

right the couple has been sticking together for a while and y/n starting to get worry about five's siblings since that night when hazel and cha-cha somehow tracked them so quick. she starting to doubt if the eye would lead them to truth.

then the couple decided to work with the fellow hargreeves after knowing what happened back to the academy and klaus. anddd yes they successfully lured hazel and cha-cha with their broken briefcase and contacted the handler. the couple agrees to work for the commission once again and begin their plan. as much as five wanted to do the job, his wife is involved with the work anyway..

y/n starting to space out where the handler and five are on conversation. her husband didn't noticed that she suddenly got anxious when around the handler.

but she let it slide because they guys have another job to do.

they pretended to work under the handler in order to get some information about the apocalypse. they mostly end up in weird situations like pretend to busy snogging when they're trying to steal something on dot's desk, "teenage romance doesn't seem to be bad.", "is this even teenage romance to you? we're in the middle of something.", "rebellious teenage couple, currently commiting crime.", "we're adults-.. just shut it." or being trapped together in comfort room. "that's good you closed the toilet window or i end up soaking in the water..", "sorry about that,," (yes. the five hargreeves is soft for his wife.)

and yey!! they finally got the intel but the handler won't let them get away that easily. luckily, five has his own tricks on his sleeves. wanda!y/n launching her off with the bomb, then getting dragged by husband out of the room and shield her from the explosion.. she's kind of annoyed this trait of his but his desire of protecting her let it put aside.

when they made it out of the commission, they began to look for harold jenkins who is leonard peabody that is responsible for the apocalypse. but!! it seems that someone took their job after witnessing harold's corpse.

aside the siblings relieved about the news, wanda!y/n felt unease when learning more about the suspect (she celebrated when five decided to leave delores and focus his relationship with her). someone like harold isn't enough to make the whole world gone to ash but what makes him the reason of starting the apocalypse? big brain time.

that when five mentioned about viktor, everything clicked. "viktor is the bomb!!!" stressed couple rushing over to the family to stop viktor.

"you know that locking him was a bad idea you idiot.", "i'm sorry ok!? i didn't know that his powers are that damn powerf--", "you already see that the way how he destroyed your house plus allison warned your arses- how tf you didn't know?" five is so done with luther too so he let his wife scolding him.

the family tries to approach viktor on his concert and he unleash his powers. wanda!y/n tries to overpower viktor's mind but he sends her up flying across the room.

fighting him too was no use. damaging viktor might blew himself out, she thought so she swat the commission out to give the siblings an opening.

wanda!y/n seems to have her own plans, leaving the boys to do their thing.

but allison beat her to it. wanda!y/n realized her plan then prevented her from killing viktor by manipulating her mind, missing the bullet.

but things didn't ended up well than they expected when they saw parts of the moon flies down to earth.

luckily five came up an idea to time travel back to past to avoid the apocalypse.

and he managed to control his powers while bringing his entire family with him. "i'll see u there, y/n.", "we will meet again, love."

note: idk if ill continue this but eh

and english is not my first language so apologize for wrong grammars!!

#five hargreeves #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x reader #wanda reader #wanda #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu #tua #tua x reader #reader #five hargreeves x reader #hcs #headcannons #pamcake's writings 🥞

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kemakoshume · 4 years ago

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every time we touch (bokuto x chubby fem!reader as god-siblings) ˖⁺ ☁⋆ ୭ 🕊.⋆｡ [𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸 🔞]

warnings: god-sibling/stepcest cw. it’s definitely written more like god-siblings than step-siblings, meaning your parents (moms) are besties and raised you like siblings [where i’m from being a godparent means that if anything happened to your parents and your family couldn’t take you, the godparents adopt you, basically]. corruption kink, a little dub-con just bc reader is inexperienced & bokuto is older (idc how you old you are he's ~3 years older than you lol), oral (both ways), first time, virgin!reader, fem!reader. everyone's of age.

a/n; so uh… here’s this. this has been on my mind for like a day and a half and i realized i have way too much fluff on my page for my liking lmao. if dc isn’t your thing but you still want to follow me for my other content then pls block the first [kk.] hashtag, i totally understand. if you choose to read anyway after reading the warnings, don’t come complaining in my ask box because i will be an asshole back at you. fair warning. welcome to dark content from me (´• ω •`) ♡ hope you enjoy!

The first time he touched you, you panicked.

It was a kiss. During a moment of calm, after he'd hugged you goodbye and held you in his arms, it happened. He lowered his lips down to yours in one brisk movement and for a moment, you let him. You let your lips relax, and his tongue slide against yours, before you processed what was happening and pulled away. This was… wrong. He was your brother. And at that moment, as if the universe wanted to rail home that point to you, your parents came bounding into the room, excitedly saying their own goodbyes and scooping each of you into hugs of their own. You got into the car and went home with your mother without saying another word.

Things had been strange after that.

Your brain refused to shut up for weeks. Rationalizing, questioning, fantasizing. Sure, you weren’t raised together but you’d known each other since birth. You’d spent your entire childhoods introducing each other as "siblings" to your friends and being treated as such by your families. So, why did he want to touch you the way boyfriends should? You were younger, mature but still a bit awkward, and you had plenty to learn. You were just beginning to blossom and fill out your body, finally coming into your own. Albeit later than most people, starting that journey of maturity and self-discovery in college instead of high school like your peers, but still.

He was attractive, you've always known that even if you would never have admitted it. He'd always been tall and muscular since he'd began working out and playing sports back in his school days, but now, as an adult, he'd grown into a man no woman could reasonably resist. He was funny and sweet and loved to love other people. Still, him liking you in any way that was more than familial felt off. Even if you weren't chosen family, you weren't the kind of girl a guy like him would go for. He was the star athlete type, you were an academic. He had a six-pack, and you were... round. So, you panicked, and you left, and you overthought it.

Until he touched you the second time.

You'd never texted very much, and that hadn't changed since the kiss. He was an athlete on a D1 team, while you had plenty of schoolwork and club events going to keep yourself busy as well. He had his own life and you, yours. So, you chose not to think about it. Moving on and living your life day-to-day, pushing the kiss that should've never happened out of your mind. You barely saw each other anyway, so it didn't matter. You might as well have imagined it.

*ding*

bkt: hey baby sis :D mom said you can come with us to my last game of the season if you wanna. it's a far drive but everyone's coming. we'll come get you and take you home on the ride back. say yes :) i miss your cute lil face

Okay, you could do that. Maybe he'd forgotten about the kiss? Maybe he'd found himself a new cheerleader girlfriend or dance team captain FWB or something and moved on from it. Going to support him would be good, you could get back to normal.

bkt: if you come, it'll be cold. bring gloves. and chapstick. i'll try to keep you warm the best that i can

Ah, nope. Of course he hadn't. You might not have had the most experience in the world, but you heard the suggestive tone even through text.

Apparently your parents had spoken about it already and your mom had said yes on your behalf. The weeks left before the game winded down quickly, and the weekend had arrived before you knew it.

Seeing him for the first time in the better part of a year was... electric. He'd gotten even bigger somehow, filling out the larger-sized uniform he'd grown into. His hair was in a more relaxed style though it was still the same beautiful black and white shade. His cheeks were kissed red from the cold of the oncoming winter season, and his huge smile extended up to his eyes as soon as he saw you.

"[y/n]!" he yelled, running off of the field to where you stood on the sidelines at the end of the game, a smile plastered on your face too after his team's game-winning goal.

He scooped you up into a hug, innocent enough to the onlookers around you but different for you. He squeezed you tighter around your waist with his large hands, the small movement seemingly nothing to anyone else but it meant plenty to you. He'd done the same before he kissed you.

Your families were oblivious, taking photos and laughing about how cute the two of you were. He found you cute alright, but in a way that would give your parents a heart attack if they knew.

The ride home from his game had been as long as he'd said it would be. You'd clambered for the farthest seats in the back of the truck you traveled in, cozying up to each other for warmth. Your god-mom threw the two of you a blanket and cranked on the heat, turning away to look at the road, listening to music in the front with your god-father.

It didn't take long before he was running his fingers along the length of your plush tummy. Squeezing you gently and rearranging your clothes. The second time he touched you, he rubbed your clit under the blankets while you both pretended to sleep. It just… it felt right that time. The energy was good after the game, the tension was palpable in air around you as he’d looked at you in your cute little dress and stockings, and you felt so hot with need. You wanted him, to be touched by him so badly, much more than you’d ever admit out loud.

He was so much more experienced. His touch was practiced and precise against your little button and between your folds. The little whispers in your ear about how beautiful you were and how sexy you were every time he saw you made you desperate. Desperate and delirious with need for him. You came so hard, bitting onto your bottom lip so fiercely that you feared it would bleed. In true Bokuto fashion, he (obnoxiously) faked sneezed to cover your whimpers, just in case the radio shielding your sounds wasn't loud enough. You giggled as you came down from your high, relaxing into his arms.

He cooed in your ear softly about how good you were and how pretty you looked cumming all over his fingers.

You went home that night trying not to let the wobbliness in your legs show, silently hoping you'd see him again sooner rather than later. Shame swirled in your gut amongst the butterflies that came when you thought about his hands for too long. He had so many things to teach you, so many ways to make you feel good. Titles be damned, you wanted him. You knew he wanted you too. How bad could something that felt so good be?

The third time did come sooner than the last, and you were grateful. Excited, even. Your mother invited him to stay for the weekend even though she worked, and you took advantage of every moment.

"Has anyone ever gone down on you before baby girl?" he asked one night, hovering above you on the couch while some movie illuminated the dark living room you were sat in, "I wanna make you feel good. Need you to know that I was the first one to make you feel good like this."

And you let him.

You let him be your first for a lot of things over the course of those nights. The first to suck your clit until you came, swears dancing on your tongue around his name. The first to enter your mouth, letting him use it until he was cumming all over your face for the first time since you didn't know how to swallow, yet. The first to fuck you open and soothe you through the ache of his cock filling you up. He was gentle, and kind, like always. Making sure his baby sister was nice and fucked out, having the best possible first time. You'd never forget how he'd cried into your neck, so drugged on bliss at how wet and tight your pussy was for him. How you cried for your big brother to make you feel good, to use you however he wanted.

The moments you could steal together from then on were always fun. All of your stolen kisses felt sweet. The way he'd grab your ass, or pull down your shirt just for a second so he could suck on one of your tout nipples, or run his hand through your folds underneath your dresses when you'd come over without panties on. It was all you could ask for and more. The secret was sexy. He was sexy, and you'd always treasure him and thank god for making him your brother.

#kk.dark 🦇#stepcest cw #bokuto x y/n #bokuto x reader #bokuto x chubby reader #bokuto x you #stepcest #tw stepcest #mdni #baby’s first dark content #quick little writing #god siblings #slight dubcon #kk.naughty

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alluringjae · 4 years ago

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au cours de l’été - jjh

⤑ translation: over the summer

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

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

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

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

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

⤑ 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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sashi-ya · 3 years ago

Note

hiiii sashi!!! how are you? i hope your week has been amazing 💞

i really loved your scenario where ace forgot his wallet and caught his bff in the act, so i've been wondering may i have a scenario like this but in this version his bff catch him in the act, pls? w/ fem reader and nsfw

thank yooooou 💞

Hii darling, of course!! ♥ I hope you enjoy this juicy spicy -a little long- scenario! Thank u so much for requesting! 💖💖 ~

NSFW ~ Portgas D. Ace x F! Bff! Reader ~ "Long Time No See"

TW: Nsfw. Explicit. Masturbation. Getting caught. Passionate smut. Fluff. Best friends to lovers. Modern AU.

WC: 1.9K

For more Ace content visit my 👊🏻🔥 Ace's masterlist 👊🏻🔥

Reader’s POV.

A normal afternoon in your life, you receive a notification on your screen...

Ace> Hi darling, listen can I stay at your home for the week? You> What??? Are you coming to town??

Ace, your best friend since you were little kids, is returning to town after more than two years without seeing each other. He has left your hometown to study abroad, and since then you haven’t seen him.

Ace>Yeees bitch, I missed you so so much!! You> wohoo!! I missed you too, I’ll wait with my special guest room ready for you! ♥

You moved from your parent’s house six months ago and you are now living in a new apartment. You are super excited to show your best friend your new life…

You feel anxious, you have seen some photos on Ace’s Instagram, he looks different from when he left, but you don’t really know exactly how good he looks. While cooking dinner -meat of course- for Ace, you could only count the minutes before the doorbell rings… you really missed him.

The food is on the table, you brush your dress and there it is, the ring you have been waiting to hear all day long. You run to the door, open and someone hugs you in a burst. Your best friend is here, and his warm hands are wrapped around your waist.

“I MISSED YOU SO SO MUCH!” Ace shouts, kissing your cheeks repeatedly. “Heheh… I missed you too!!” you say in between perhaps some tears. He puts you down after lifting you up in the air. “Hi hi hi!” he says all excited. The boy with dark hair and some freckles is now a man, a handsome, sexy, and strong man.

“A-Ace… you have grown…” you stutter. “I did sis, what about you? Let me see you!” he says and makes you turn around so he can scan you from head to toes. “You did… especially those… you know…” he says, signing as if he had big breasts. “Shut up!!” you say, with burning cheeks. “Come on in, dinner is ready!”.

Ace devours the whole plate, and a second, then a third. He chokes several times, but he continues after chugging a big glass of water. “I guess he has only changed on the outside” you think, and giggle at the image of the freckled boy with crumbs all around his mouth.

And of course, as you know him too well, in a sudden quick motion you catch his head as a narcolepsy episode strikes. You have crawled over the table in order to prevent his countenance from hitting the plate, your breasts are way closer to his face, but he is asleep, there shouldn’t be any problem…

“UHHHH bitch such a good image to wake up to” he says suddenly. He is awake, but resting his head on your hands, having your chest as close as possible to his nose. “Ace!” you shout because he scared the hell out of you. “Stand up, come on!” you order, and he does what you have told him to. “Fiiine, I’m sorry!” He incorporates and lifts his hands.

“You haven’t changed a bit, huh?” you tell him, pointing at him with your index finger. “I did… look at these arms, babe” he says and flexes his biceps to you. “Pfff….” you roll your eyes. Both end up laughing like crazy, like the old times.

The night comes to an end when you show him his new room, apparently, he will be staying no more than a week until he finds a new apartment. You are glad he could stay at least more than a day after so much time without being together.

“Night, sleep well. Don’t assault my fridge during the night… that’s why Luffy isn’t allowed to stay here anymore” you sentenced him and left the room laughing.

Ace’s P.O.V

“Goodnight, babe!” he waves. The door closes behind you, and the freckled boy stands still lost in his own thoughts.

“What the fuck has she eaten the last two years? She looks like a goddess!” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “God… I will have to take a shower, if I don’t, I’m gonna turn into fire…” he thinks and opens his suitcase. He takes out a pair of pajamas and heads to the shower.

During the bath, he couldn’t help but think about your body figure, your face, how his little aneeki has grown… “Damn” he says while leaving the bathroom in suite with a white towel wrapped around his hips.

Ace’s mind runs a hundred miles per hour, he remembers the way your breasts were close, so close to his face, the sweet floral scent of your perfume, your (s/c) skin.

He feels his member slowly waking up, tenting the white fluffy material of the towel. “No… Ace, stop. What are you doing?” he says to himself while he is already touching his aching member over the towel. “She is like your sister, come on… I thought my adolescent crush on her was over… Fuck!”.

But Ace can’t stop, his sex hurts, begs and implores to have at least a little release. The towel is becoming wet, as precum damps it. And because when Ace is horny, his thoughts run wild, he imagines you dancing naked in front of him, he imagines you riding him…

“Fuck it!” he says, and flops into bed. He unties the towel that covers his immodest parts. His member is free, hard, in all his glory right there to be stroked. His palm traces circles over the tip of his dick, lubricated by how wet he is getting. He jerks off, up and down, fast, and then slow, and then fast once again. Ace is lost in his own imagination, he mumbles your name, and pants. At first, he tries to remain as silent as possible, but once the pressure builds on his lower belly, he just loses it.

And because he is not hearing anything around him, and is completely focused on releasing himself, he hasn’t noticed you staring at such -delightful- image from the door.

Reader 's POV.

“Ace… Ace…?” you ask, burning cheeks, burning skin. You just can’t look away. A normal person would have shut the door the very moment they saw that. But you didn’t.

You have a cup of chocolate milk with marshmallows that threatens to be spilled into the carpet as your hand trembles. That cup that you two used to enjoy when you were children. Very sugary, as Ace likes it. Yet not as sweet as his tensing muscles while he strokes his dick and moans your name.

Ace is squeezing his eyelids, so he is not aware of your dumbfounded face. You stutter, you only could -whisper- say his name. You don’t really want him to stop, what’s more, you wish you were the one that was jerking him off instead of his hand.

But morale hits you, and you shouldn’t be doing that. When have you become a voyeuristic? You clear your throat and close the door, slamming it so it sounds louder. You walk through the hall to your room, your heart beating so rapidly, you swear the organ wanted to jump out of your chest.

Closing the door of your room, leaving the cups on your dresser. You sigh and look into the mirror. You are sweating, you are horny, wet, you are feral.

“Was he saying my name? Was he thinking of me?” ...

A sudden knock on the door scares you. “(Name)? I’m sorry, please let’s talk about it…” Ace begs behind the door. “Please, let me explain… I’m so sorry”.

You struggle to say something, and after two tries, words come out of your mouth. “I… It… It is ok, Ace…” you mumble. “No, it’s not ok, please open up” he begs. You take your time and stand up. Shyly, you open the door. Ace is standing there, towel around his hips, a little -a lot- lower than it should be. It exposes the perfect V his abs form, the happy trail that conducts your sight from his navel to heaven. His torso was covered in little drops of sweat, cheeks red. Wavy black hair wet, falling at each side of his face. The freckles that form a beautiful galaxy over his nose. The child who once was your crush, is now a man, a man that you wish you could devour right now…

And you do.

You come closer to him, your body acts on its own. First one step, then two. Your right palm over the hard muscles of his abdomen. Your face close to his. Lips wander over Ace’s lips. Warm breath mixing, the tension, and the need, that feeling inside your belly…

“Ace…” “(Name)…”

Ace presses his lips against yours, he passes his fingers through your hair. Both of you embracing tight into a passionate kiss, a delayed kiss, a suppressed kiss from many many years.

As your tongues play with each other, exploring every wet part of your mouths, you walk towards your bed. Your back hits the mattress, Ace is over you. His hands take your pajama blouse, you can feel the warmth of his palms travelling all around your stomach and chest.

“Babe… I’m…should I stop?” he whispers, while kissing your neck. “Don’t… keep doing this… I want you” you moan, and that fans the flames… Ace can’t stop, he sucks your skin, leaving marks all over your neck, on your collar bones, on your breasts.

Your hips against his crotch, the towel has fallen a few minutes ago to the ground. Ace is completely naked, your satin shorts get damped, your arousal and his arousal over the cloth. You buck up yourself against his hard member. He does the same with you, your clit throbbing, his dick pulsating.

“Fuck me” you beg, right away. You need him inside. “Fuck me, fuck me please”. Ace looks at you, his muscular arms at each side of your head, his piercing fiery gaze on yours. He stands up a little and slides your shorts and panties off. Your core exposed to him, shiny from the dripping wet arousal you are feeling. Ace relishes at the perfect anatomy you hold in between your legs. “So pretty, babe”.

He grabs his dick and grazes the tip over your labia, he lubricates it with your honeys. You whine at the subtle touch, the sweet torture of wanting him inside you, the endless teasing of his gland caressing your clit.

Your best friend bites his lower lip, and without taking his eyes off yours, he aligns his shaft to your entrance. And enters little by little. Softly, gently, slowly he moves in and out, not yet deep inside you. The feeling of him slowly stretching your walls, makes you shiver. He takes his time, making you beg for him to pound deep inside you. Until you can’t take it anymore...

You buck your hips against him, making his dick go all the way in. Both of you moan, both of you whine. And Ace starts to thrust you, violently, faster, feral. In and out he goes, you cross your legs around his waist, burying your heels against the small of his back.

And after intense stimulation, the natural consequence is climax. And climax comes, elated on each other, trembling, quivering, loudly moaning the other’s name. You filled by his warm seed, melting at the pulsating feeling of him filling you up and grunting in your ear.

“Can I stay here more than a week?” he asks, snuggling with you on your bed.

“Stay here forever … ♥”

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gojous-exbabymama · 4 years ago

Text

That’s My Baby Daddy~

pretty much Gojou being a menace and you having to deal with his annoying ass😭

warning// language, +18, mdni, mention of smut, mention of daddy kink, breeding kink, kinda toxic!gojou, gojou saturo x fem!reader, got inspired by @hanji-is-life talking about this man i couldn’t help myself lol

——————————————————————————————////

🧿 a sneak link turned baby daddy

🧿 honestly, this is what happens when mix a daddy kink with a breeding kink

🧿 you weren’t even going to tell him because he pops up every two-three months

🧿 whenever he feels like it😒

🧿 but when you do tell him, he becomes even more cocky?¿

🧿 and if you were on the pill and still got knocked up

🧿 his god-complex would fly through the roof omg:

🧿 “im just that strong, baby”

🧿 will say you were trying to trap him but it’s clearly the other way around

🧿 literally wanted to wife you up but you said no because he was still a fuckboy and you didn’t have time to deal with his shit 24/7

🧿 the fact that you didn’t really need him around actually makes him want you even more

🧿 makes up for missing appointments or classes with lavish gifts and anything your cravings desire

🧿 you hate him because he shows up when your hormones are going crazy and all you want to do fuck

🧿 here his ass comes, all too happy to help take care of that

🧿 tried to convince you to move in with him but you shut that down quickly

🧿 so he just buys you a house that’s less than 5 minutes from his☺️

🧿 will show up late for the baby’s birth and annoy the whole staff like:

🧿 “no sir you cannot order room service during delivery” “pls stop touching the buttons on the bed sir!”

🧿 spoils the baby like crazy

🧿 you scold him whenever he comes back with a new pair of shoes because:

🧿 “gojou, he’s just going to grow out of them in like, a month”

🧿 “yeah but look at how cute they are!”

🧿 can’t get rid of him, you went to your moms place and he’s just sitting at the table, eating a slice of pie with that smirk

🧿 sorry to say sis but your days of dating are over

🧿 you’ve made it clear numerous of times that yes, you two have a baby together but that does not mean you two are together as a couple

🧿 and does he listen?

🧿 no! he doesn’t!

🧿 if he catch wind of your fine ass out on date with some weak dude

🧿 he’s going to blow up your phone

🧿 and if you block him for the night, he will show up and ruin the date

🧿 he’s made it very clear that your his stop playing with him

🧿 you say you’re done with him sis but why is he in your kitchen the next morning in your robe drinking your coffee, eating all the baby’s cereal??

🧿 you cursing him out and yelling at him every other day

🧿 and him just being like: “mmhm..mhm..yeah no I’m not paying attention, you’re too sexy when your mad🥴😜”

🧿 fights always turn into hate fucking he’s just too pretty and too smooth with it, you can’t stay mad at him for too long:

🧿 “I hate you, Gojou. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you”

🧿 “f-fuck gojou iloveyou,iloveyou,iloveyou!!” you chant as he fucks you into the mattress

🧿 “yeah ya’ do sweetheart so much you’re gonna let daddy fuck another baby in you, right mamas?”

🧿 he was serious too

🧿 congrats sis, he got you again😔🤟🏾

🧿 you being pissed but he’s just like:

🧿 “you begged me put another one in you babe, so I did what’s the problem?”

🧿 i mean, you technically did say that but it was more so for dirty talk!

🧿 and this motherfucka took it serious

🧿 he knew what he was doing though smh

🧿 slides his way into living with you and the kids

🧿 family vacations are a thing

🧿 he will take y’all all over the world if you asked

🧿 his family gets the best of the best with everything it’s really hard for him to say no to his kids

🧿 he’s gone a lot throughout the year and misses a few of their after school things

🧿 but somehow you’re the mean parent for telling your kids ‘no’ to eating candy before bed?¿?

🧿 “no, our son doesn’t need another iPad.”

🧿 “no, our daughter does not need a puppy she barely kept her six goldfish alive..”

🧿 “gojou, the baby is literally 3 months old, you’re not signing them up for horse riding lessons!!”

🧿 watch him or else he’ll turn your kids into silver tooth terrors!

🧿 by baby number 4 he just stops asking you to marry him because he definitely knows you’re not going anywhere

🧿 you’re stuck with him for life so might as well just stay with his ass because he’s not going anywhere either

🧿good luck😭🧿

#saturo gojou #gojou satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojou smut #gojou sensei #gojo saturo x reader #gojo headcanons #gojou saturo x black reader #gojo saturo x black reader #I had fun writing this

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biisexualemma · 4 years ago

Text

unrequited pt.2. peter parker

word count: 3.6k

warnings: anxiety, panic attack? i guess kind of

requested: yea a few people asked for this lol

plot: you haven’t seen peter for weeks and start to worry about him

a/n: i finished re-writing this late last night and i’ll be honest with you i haven’t checked it over so sorry if there are any mistakes but i’m tired sis goodnight! lmk if you like this! pls comment / share!

pt.1 / marvel masterlist / multi-fandom masterlist

"ned... you're so wrong for so many reasons," m.j.'s expression was flat, her eyes rolling before she continued to fight ned on who was really the strongest avenger. you were supposed to be working on a group project for your history class but somehow the topic of the avengers came up and the conversation derailed. ned was making a, somewhat, compelling case for the hulk but m.j. was clearly winning with her argument for wanda.

"nobody even knows the full extent of her powers... and the hulk? what? he's gonna smash some more?"

you sat quietly, chin in the palm of your hand, listening in and out of the conversation. you didn't really feel much like contributing. you would occasionally chime in to support m.j. but mostly you just heard the noise of their bickering and let it happen.

you didn't want to be that person, but your mind was (much to your frustration) completely consumed with thoughts of peter. and at the worst time, you had so many tests coming up, and essay deadlines were also creeping up on you. usually you were on top of this stuff, but your mind was preoccupied almost all the time.

because of peter, who was no where to be seen. in the past few weeks he had stopped showing up to school all together. ned said it was something to do with tony stark but you had a feeling it was more than that. you didn't know how to explain it.

you hadn't spoken to him in a long time now, and you didn't exactly leave things on good terms. it was the longest you'd gone without talking since peter called you a poopy head in the third grade.

you just couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. especially since you had no idea what he was getting up to, peter was known to get himself into some messes when he was left to his own devices. and you just knew ned was lying to cover for his best friend but that only made you feel even more out of the loop.

everything felt a bit off without peter around, like something was missing. that, on top of the guilt and worry you were feeling, was turning your head to mush. last time you'd spoken to peter, he was erratic and wounded and desperate. something bad had to have happened for him to be gone this long.

the bell rang, signalling the end of your last period for the day, and the rest of the week seeing as it was a friday. you snapped out of your daze, jolting as your eyes focused back on your surroundings.

"what time did you say again, y/n?" your eyes drifted to m.j. who was collecting her notes on her desk, her eyes meetings yours, waiting for your answer. a crease formed between your eyebrows, you hadn't heard a word of the conversation before right now. m.j. seemed to realise this, rolling her eyes at you with a playful smile. you did this a lot lately, she was getting used to it. "homecoming? what time did you want to meet tonight?"

"oh," you nodded, still sitting at your desk as your classmates hustled around you. "right, homecoming— i— uh—"

"tell me you're still coming," ned interrupted, his eyes wide suddenly, clearly desperate that your answer was anything but no. "c'mon we've had this planned for ages!"

"no— yeah— of course i am," you nodded quickly to reassure him. "yeah— sorry— i just spaced. is seven good for you guys?"

they hummed in response, nodding.

you packed up your books, shoving them into your bag, still in a slight haze with all these thoughts running through your head about peter. you couldn't think about homecoming, it seemed trivial now compared to the worst case scenarios running through your mind. maybe you could try to call peter again? you thought to yourself as you quickly left the classroom, forgetting about m.j. and ned and homecoming, your muscle memory alone leading you to your locker.

you swapped out your books from your bag with the ones you needed to study from for your biology test next week. after slamming the locker door shut, a familiar face was met with yours.

"jesus," you muttered as he stood inches away from your face, your heart racing from the shock. clutching your books to your chest, after nearly having a heart attack, you let out a loud sigh and furrowed your eyebrows. "peter? where the hell have you been?" you regained some of your composure, enough to find some anger in you towards him. he was the last person you were expecting to see today.

"you're ok?" his usual soft brown eyes looked sunken and tired, his hair was scruffier than usual and his lips chapped as they hung open, his eyes scanning over you.

your mouth hung open to speak but he just shook his head as if answering his own question. he gripped your forearm, urging you to walk with him. you dug in your heels, yanking your arm back, wanting him to slow down and explain before you went anywhere with him. "will you just walk," he muttered sharply when you tried to resist him. "please," he softened quickly, his eyes meeting yours.

you frowned, uncomfortably shifting the stack of books in your arms as peter pulled you along behind him hastily. you watched his eyes shifting about the hallway as students weaved around the two of you, his grip not loosening for a second. he was definitely up to something stupid and dangerous that he absolutely should not be involved in.

he'd dragged you all the way out into the parking lot, pulling you aside and away from the crowd of people.

"what's going on? why do you look like— i mean no offence but— you look like crap," you couldn't help but show some level of concern. no matter how complicated your feelings were for him at the moment, he was still your best friend, and he looked like hell. you couldn't stop yourself from staring at him.

"i need you to just— stop talking and listen to me," the look in his eyes made your heart beat a bit faster, your eyes darting between his trying to understand his urgency. "you're not safe—"

"no— i'm fine—" you were never very good at doing what you were told. you glanced down at yourself, perfectly safe and standing in front of him. "see?—"

"no— no you're not," he gulped, his eyes darting away from yours for a split second. "i'm taking you home and you have to stay there. ok? please."

his voice was horse, cracking when he spoke. you didn't understand any of it. peter was the friendly neighbourhood spider-man, what the hell had he gotten himself into that had him this worked up?

you tilted your head slightly, he couldn't think you'd blindly do whatever he said. you needed some answers. "pete," you mumbled, shaking your head with a faint frown. "can't you just tell me what's going on? you're kinda' scaring me."

"i screwed up," his face contorted, his eyes screwing shut for a second and his nose scrunching. you were glued to him, following his mixed expressions trying to understand what was going through his head. he took a deep, shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. "and i know you— you hate me and the last thing you wanna' do is listen to me but i need you to do this for me."

"alright," you said after a moments hesitation. you just wanted him to relax. all your pent up anger and hurt that you'd felt over peter had dissipated quite quickly. you were too occupied with trying to ease some of his stress, and if that meant becoming a homebody for a few days, you would do it. "alright— don't worry. i've been putting off my english essay for a week now anyway, it's about time i cracked down on it."

you tried to ease the tension, act like he wasn't asking much of you. he let out a heavy sigh, looking over at you with those brown eyes. "it's homecoming tonight, i know w—"

"is it?" you feigned forgetfulness, not wanting to make him feel any worse than he already did. you shrugged. "i was never one for socialising anyway."

peter knew you better than that. he knew what he was asking you to give up. "i'm sorry," he took a step closer to you, his hands hovering in front of you, unsure that you wanted him to touch you. "i'm sorry you got dragged into this."

your eyes lingered on his hands before you pulled back up to his stare. you pursed your lips and shrugged. "i'd feel better about it if i knew what i was getting dragged into," you pulled away from your conversation for a second to slip your books into your bag. "walk me home and you can explain everything."

and he did. he told you all about the vulture, the weapons, what really happened during the decathlon trip. all of it. right up to when the vulture figured out his identity— which lead to him finding out about aunt may, about his friends, and about you. he told you about how he'd spent the past few weeks figuring out where the vulture's next major deal was being held, how he'd messed up so bad and how mr stark had taken his suit.

by the time he'd finished, your mouth hung open slightly. you didn't know how he'd been dealing with all of this by himself. spider-man helped old ladies cross the street and returned stolen bicycles, he didn't fight men in bird costumes to stop illegal sales of dangerous advanced weapon tech.

"peter, this sounds pretty dangerous," you spoke up after he told you about his plan to intercept the vulture's airplane heist. "don't you think you should just call happy? or tony? this sounds like iron man territory."

"i can't do that," he sighed. "besides, i already tried happy— he's not taking my calls right now. something about a time out."

you let out a heavy sigh, having taken everything in that he'd told you. you had reached your door, peter standing behind you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. you motioned for him to come in but he hesitated, opening his mouth to decline. "c'mon," you grabbed his arm and tugged gently. "this heist isn't happening 'til late tonight. you can keep me company 'til then."

"maybe, get some rest, too, you really do look like hell," he let you pull him inside, following behind you. he ignored the second dig you had now made about his appearance.

"may must've been pretty mad when she found out you'd been skipping school?" you collapsed onto your bed, crossing your legs over and watching peter perch himself on the edge of your bed. he leaned forward, his hand running over his face with sheer exhaustion.

"you have no idea," he groaned, holding his head up with the palm of his hand now. "i'm pretty much grounded for the rest of the year. and i have to send her a pic' of me sitting in every one of my classes from now on," you nodded, pursing your lips because that sounded about right. "but mainly she was worried."

"well, she wasn't the only one," he glanced at you over his shoulder, his eyes lingering there for a while. you breathed through your nose, looking away from him and down to your hands to give yourself a moment. you'd forgotten how difficult it was to have him look at you like that. "you just took off with no word, peter."

he turned his gaze away from you, focusing on the wall in front of him, his eyes glossy. for weeks that last conversation with you had been sitting at the back of his mind. he knew he'd handled everything in the worse possible way. he tried to protect you, hurt you by doing so, and then had everything he tried to protect you from blow up in his face anyway.

"i haven't been able to think clearly for weeks," you gulped, scared to meet his gaze again, in fear that you might lose your confidence. "i missed you. and i was worried out of my mind about you."

"y/n—" his voice was quiet.

"and i know i was the one who told you to leave. but i was hurt and sad. i'd convinced myself that you felt the same way, and when you—" you closed your eyes for a second, feeling him watching you. you hadn't been able to say any of this out loud for weeks and now it was just spilling out of you. "anyway— i shouldn't've punished you for that. they are my feelings i need to get over. it wasn't your fault and i'm sorry i made it seem like it was."

he shook his head faintly, sniffling slightly, catching your attention. "i screwed up," he shook his head a little harder, pushing himself up off your bed, his back turned to you. "i screwed up so bad," he ran his hand over his face, his thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose. your eyebrows knitted. "it wasn't supposed to turn out like this."

"don't," you shook your head, willing him to stop. "it's not your fault. i shouldn't have—"

he cut you off, turning to face you as he did. "i'm in love with you," his mouth hung open slightly, his eyes now stinging red. "i was in love with you then, and i'm in love with you now. i think i always will be."

your eyebrows unknitted, your mouth opening to speak but nothing came out. you watched his hand tug on the ends of his curls, his eyes locked onto you the entire time, trying to read your expression.

"i was trying to protect you and it went completely wrong—" his breathing was erratic. "i thought you'd be safer if i distanced myself—" the look on his face was breaking your heart. he knew how stupid it all sounded now he explained it out loud. "i screwed everything up— and now you're in more danger than ever— because of me."

"you— you—" your brain was trying to keep up. you shook your head. you had spent the past month telling yourself that everything you thought he'd felt for you wasn't real, that you'd over thought everything he'd ever done for you. you'd been telling yourself for a month to move on. "you didn't screw up, pete. i know you. whatever you did, you did for the right reasons."

the lump in your throat was growing as you tried to keep some kind of composure. it wouldn't do either of you any good to get upset with him when he was worked up like this. he didn't need to be told he'd made a mistake, he was already painfully aware.

"you don't— you—but— i—" he was hyperventilating, completely vulnerable as he fell apart in front of you.

"pete," you mumbled carefully, climbing over to where he was stood, hand in his hair and he pulled on the loose curls, his eyes wide with anxiety and stress. you moved your hands to his, pulling them down to his side and giving them a small squeeze. "calm down," you cooed. "everything will be ok."

you trailed your hands up to his shoulders, giving them a soft squeeze before pulling him into a tight hug. you wrapped your arms 'round his shoulders, one hand moving to the back of his head, running your fingers through his hair. his head ducked, burying into your neck, his arms wrapping around your waist in a desperate grip. his breathing was heavy at first, uneven and jagged as he clung onto you. your heart was beating out of your chest, you were sure he could hear it, but you held onto him as tight as you could, pressing your whole body against his trying to offer him as much comfort as you could.

after a while of standing around, holding each other, peter's breathing began to grow softer and slower. he began to notice the sweet scent lingering on your skin. his lips innocently hovering over the curve of your neck, breath fanning against your skin. you could feel goosebumps growing on your skin, the hair of your arms standing on end.

"better?" you mumbled softly. he gave you a faint nod in response, his lips leaving your skin as he pulled himself back from you. your hand slipped from in between his curls and down to the neck, your thumb brushing over his skin as he looked straight into your eyes. you gulped, eyelids fluttering.

he was a state to behold. his nose was pink, under eyes wet, your eyes trailed down to where his lips parted. he hiccuped a breath. you tried to push away the impulse to kiss him because he was clearly vulnerable. you didn't want him to later regret anything. "thanks," he mumbled breathlessly. "i don't know what happened there."

you pouted your lips, about to reply when peters eyes fluttered down your face, catching you off guard. his eyes lingered and you noticed his head tilting down and nearer, his lips catching onto yours before you could register what was happening. it was soft, gentle and didn't last longer than a couple seconds before you had to force yourself to pull away.

"peter— you're overwhelmed right now so maybe we shouldn—"

your whispers against his lips where cut short, he pressed his lips to yours again. unable to resist now he'd had a taste. his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you back flush against his chest. you swallowed a gasp, feeling his full weight behind the second kiss. his lips pushed against yours a little more desperately this time, you fell back a step, peter's arms where the only thing keeping you upright at this point.

both your hands where either side of his neck, trailing up into his hair where you pulled softly at the roots of his messy curls. he let out a soft moan against your lips, and you stumbled back once more, your thighs hitting your bed.

your hands quickly slipped down to his chest as you gently pried him off you. your head was spinning a little, his lips were plump and pink and the way he looked at you, with pure love and obsession, made you want to kiss him again and again.

"did you mean it?" you muttered breathlessly.

his eyes trailed back up from your lips, his gaze locking with yours again. he noticed the vulnerability and fear in your eyes now that he was paying you his full attention. he felt a wave of guilt hit him, knowing he was the one that put that look there.

"yeah," he hummed. "i did," he said with his chest. "i do. always will," he was breathless.

"you're not just saying it 'cause you've missed me?"

he shook his head quickly, shutting down any traces of doubt in your mind. "i have been in love with you since that summer we took that trip to coney island when you threw up after you ate too much cotton candy."

your scrunched up your nose at the memory. "gross."

he shrugged. "i don't know what to tell you. that's just when i knew."

your lips twitched into a small smile. "you should probably get some rest," you diverted the topic, trying hard not to kiss him again. he looked so tired. he had poured out months worth of anxiety and stress all in the past ten minutes. "you can't chase bad guys if you're half asleep."

he wore a half-hearted smile, his mind clearly flickering back to the task he had to take on later tonight.

"you can crash here if you want," you motioned to your bed.

"y'sure? i don't wanna get you in trouble."

"mom's working late, so you're good. plus she loves you, pete," your hands slipped down to his, giving them a quick squeeze of reassurance.

"sure she'll still love me when she finds out about us?" he quirked an eyebrow, the small smile on his lips was sloped and tired.

"m'sure," you hummed, biting back your growing smile at the word us. you moved him to sit on your bed again, his hands lazily holding yours. his eyelids fluttered as he looked up at you, a small crease forming between his eyebrows again. you could tell his mind was wandering again. "lie down, you need to rest or you're no good to anyone."

he nodded hesitantly and followed your instruction. "i'll sleep better with you next to me."

his voice was soft after you'd turned your back on him to leave him to rest. you rolled your eyes faintly, smile tugging your lips again. "is that right?"

he hummed, his arms outstretched, waiting for you to fall into them. you dragged your feet back over to him, biting the inside of your cheek, the corner of your lip twitching upwards. "there's a scientific reason behind it but my brain's too sleepy to think right now, so you'll have to take my word for it."

his words slurred together, his eyes rolling slightly the longer he forced them open. you just nodded. "alright, spidey, just this once."

"hm," he hummed as you climbed in next to him, his arms wrapping around you and immediately pulling you against his chest. "thanks," he muttered, his lips pressed against the top of your head. "don't know what i'd do without you."

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