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#or like I’m in a fairytale on my way to my cottage home from a trip to the village
avas21braincells · 1 year
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Forest roaming? I want to go fucking forest roaming and live in a house in front of a big pretty forest and explore and find things I can pretend are from fairies and walk down creeks with my dog and gather flowers and leaves and other pretty things and make a mailbox in the trees like the post office in little women and
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aceoflove · 3 months
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The Bookshop of his Dreams - Bob Floyd x Fem!Reader
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He wasn't like the rest of the daggers, always chasing the next hookup. Robert "Bob" Floyd wants to find a girl and settle down, and now that he is permanently stationed at Top Gun, maybe he can.
Fluff, 848 words
A/N: I'm a little rusty, so apologies if it isn't the best <3
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Bob never considered himself a social butterfly, as he would rather read than go out to a bar on a roundy Friday night after work with his teammates, being left alone when they all find someone to take home. Even though he had been back at Top Gun for 3 months, being a back seater for Pheonix, he never really left the base, minus some small errands. After Maverick announced that the Dagger Squad will be a permanent fixture in San Diego, he could finally breath, knowing that he could get attached to his squadron and the town he has been living in. The military was always moving him around, as a top WSO, but a part of him wished he could settle down, stay in one place for a while and maybe find a girl, and hopefully this was his chance.
The clouds drifted over the sun and the rain began to pour, his feet hitting the ground at a steady place before the little bell above the door rings. He makes it inside a quaint bookshop, owned by a local family from what he had read. He was on his way over there, to find sanctuary for his aching heart when it started to bucket, drenching him to the bones.
“It’s really coming down out there, isn’t it?”
A soft voice drifts from behind the counter, a contrast to the sharp pitter patter of rain bouncing off of the shop fronts windows. Bob turns, spotting the person who spoke to him. The store was empty apart from the worker behind the counter. She was pretty, truly his type looks wise. A timid smile is plastered on both of their faces as he nods.
“Honestly it came out of nowhere. It was so peaceful on the walk over here until just now.”
A chuckle escapes her lips as she nods, her gaze drawn to the window where raindrops were racing down to the bottom. He was drawn to her eyes, her distracted nature endearing, he can’t help the smile creeping up on his face. She shakes out of it and looks back at him. “Sorry! Feel free to look around and if you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask.”
The comfort of the shop truly drew him in, the plethora of books adorning the shelves making him want to buy out the whole store (Although he doesn’t need to get any more books, his shelves were overflowing with poetry books, and any book that captured his interest). Each step brought him further into the atmosphere, each step bringing him into the enchantment of the fairytale in his mind. The shelves carved out of wood, the details making it feel like the shelves belonged in a cottage.
He can’t help but smile at how the book looks so amazing, the collection precise and diverse, curated with many interests in mind.
He comes back a few more times over the next month, getting closer to her, learning her interests, favourite books, and how the shop was her whole world.
His mind wanders back to the loneliness in his heart, how he wishes he could settle down, and have his own library, his wife curled up with a book, nestled into his side as his attention is taken away from his own book to her face. How her face lights up at certain parts and how he can’t help the love in his eyes.
Her face changes, warping into a different face from the one that was stuck in his mind. Her face turned up. He cannot think about this.
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Bob was standing outside the bookstore, trying to work up the nerve to walk back in there after thinking of her for a week, his mind running in circles with different daydreams of what like would be like with her by his side, finally having the life he wished for.
Once again, the store welcomes him in, the warmth embracing him and her smile making him melt once more. “How’s my favourite customer?”
“Better now I’m back here.”
‘Now that I’ve seen you.’ The words were on the tip of his tongue, his heart pounding out of his chest as he flushed a little, heading back into the shelves he was familiar with now, as he could walk around there with his eyes closed.
The mind still wanders, seeing her at the front counter reading another book, flipping through the pages, most likely for a review from the shop. He could imagine her at his kitchen counter, reading and annotating while he cooked them dinner. Bob allows his mind to come back down to earth and he looks through the books once more, grabbing a few from the shelves, admiring the blurbs and the cover design. He makes his way to the front counter, back to the woman who captured his attention.
“Ooo! I love this book!”
She picks up one of them, scanning them for purchase. Her eyes lit up, his heart filled with warmth, an unfamiliar feeling blooming in his chest, and he knew.
‘I’m screwed.’
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sirianasims · 9 months
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The next summer, we travelled to Henford-on-Bagley to get married near the place Cecilia grew up. We rented a tiny cottage and spent a few days before the wedding visiting places from her childhood.
She showed me an old gazebo and the local ruins she used to play in, her favourite tree. I felt honoured that she would share all this with me.
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The Bramblewood felt like a place in a dream, and it only seemed fitting that this was where Cecilia had come from.
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She even took me skinny-dipping by the waterfalls of the Bagley river.
Cecilia was my very own fairytale princess and I was almost surprised that various small animals weren’t constantly accosting her to sing a duet or trying to sew her a dress.
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I was about to make a joke about it, but when I turned around, I saw her trying to befriend a couple of small birds. It took effort not to burst out laughing and scare them away.
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Then came the wedding itself.
Cecilia looked radiant and I almost forgot to breathe as her father walked her towards me.
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I had never met Stephen, as he had stayed behind on the Bell family farm after the divorce from Cecilia’s mother. I had been nervous about it, but it was clear that much of Cecilia’s gentle nature came from him.
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Her mother, Ariana, and her brother, Leopold, I knew from the first time we dated. Although her brother was no longer that annoying little kid who would come knocking at the door to Cecilia’s room while she and I were making out, only to run away giggling.
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And just like that, we were married. I still couldn’t believe that she wanted to spend her life with me, that she was truly mine now.
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Considering that the wedding was all the way across the sea, I was touched that Athena and Jamie had come, especially since Athena was heavily pregnant. At least someone else appreciated that the champagne was alcohol-free.
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Colten made a toast to the joys of being married, and I caught Katherine and Conrad exchanging a significant look.
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I knew it couldn’t be easy for her to attend, but I appreciated her and Conrad coming – and that they were taking Freya home with them.
I really didn’t want Freya to stay with me for my wedding night.
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As I entered the tiny bedroom in our rented cottage, I stopped dead in my tracks. Cecilia had already removed her dress and the flowers in her hair and was waiting for me.
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“Hello, husband”, she purred.
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Mesmerised, I reached up to unbutton my shirt, only to find it already opened.
“Fuck, Cecilia. I’m glad I didn’t know you were wearing that under your dress all day, I wouldn’t have been able to focus.”
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She laughed and sat on the bed, looking at me eagerly.
“I wanted to surprise you!”
“Yeah, well, colour me surprised”, I mumbled hoarsely, as I struggled to open my belt and kick off my shoes at the same time.
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I joined my wife on the bed and kissed her, hungrily. My hand found her stomach, still almost flat.
Almost.
She smiled.
“I don’t think anyone noticed yet.”
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We had decided that we wanted children as soon as possible, but it had still been a surprise when Cecilia found out that she was pregnant just before the wedding. I was delighted. And terrified. I saw doctor Holland regularly all through the pregnancy, and Cecilia did her best to remind me that the situation was very different this time.
And it was. Even as she slowly reached a size where she was borrowing my old shirts because none of her own clothes fit, I felt no signs of my depression returning.
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I wasn’t truly worried about us having a baby, only about getting hit by depression again. The thought of Cecilia carrying my child didn’t fill me with anxiety, but with joy. Still, it was a relief to be able to share my thoughts and worries with her on our, now rather slow, walks.
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Freya was very excited about getting a brother or sister. I knew Katherine had mixed feelings about it. She said she was happy for us, but I could tell she was a little jealous. She would never give Freya siblings.
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Towards the end of her pregnancy, I think I was even more impatient for our child to be born than Cecilia was. Not that she wasn’t very ready to get it over with as well. She had been uncomfortable all day, and was now lying on top of me so I could stroke her back, twisted awkwardly to the side to make room for her belly.
Her breathing was slow and steady, like she was almost falling asleep. Then I felt something.
“Cecilia, darling”, I mumbled. “I love you no matter what, but either you just peed on me, or we really need to go. Now.”
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She quickly changed and we left. When we arrived at the hospital, I felt my pulse quickening. I loved Freya more than my own life, but my last visit to the maternity ward ten years ago had been traumatising.
But Cecilia was in pain, and as I was swaying back and forth to soothe her, I was able to put the past aside.
This was here and now.
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I was looking on in awe as she gave birth. I wanted to take away the pain, help her, but somehow her body knew how to do all the right things.
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Before long, she was holding our daughter in her arms.
I had two daughters now.
I couldn’t be happier.
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tuulikannel · 3 months
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@lazytoufu and I have talked a bit about doing different princess themed karushuu stories. This isn't really a princess one, just based on a fairytale. I think I'll yet post this on AO3 too... once I figure out a real title for this. No, I will not be calling this Little Red Riding Shuu for real XD
But, yes. A Little Red Riding Hood retelling with some hints of karushuu in it. Funnily enough, it's exactly 3333 words atm. (And that's like, 2000 words more than I thought it'd be...) (I hope there are not many typos and other stuff, I wrote this in one go in the past 3 hours or so and now it's midnight here and I'm too sleepy to proofread more) (if you've any suggestions for a title do tell me)
The Little Red Riding Shuu (or whatever this'll be called)
In a grand house at the edge of a forest, a man called his son to him.
“I have an errand for you,” he said, offering the boy a basket. “You have to take this basket to your grandmother’s cottage.”
The boy gave the basket a long look. “I have a grandmother?”
“Of course you do.” The man pushed the basket to him. “There is also a map in there. Now, don’t dawdle. She has taken ill, and you have to make haste to bring her this medicine, so that…”
The boy snorted. “Yeah, sure. You’re sending medicine to people. Give me some credit, father.” He looked at the map and frowned. “She sure lives at a nice place, doesn’t she? Those parts of the forest are full of robbers and dangerous wildlife.”
“Is that a problem?”
He gave the man a sharp glance. “Don’t be stupid. I’m on my way.” He threw his red cloak over his shoulders and headed out.
As he started his journey through the forest, Gakushuu took a curious peek into the basket. There was a vial in it but there was nothing on the vial to indicate what its insides were. Medicine? He gave a little laugh. Hardly. Perhaps he would find out something once he found this so-called grandmother of his.
The road wasn’t as bad as he had thought. Yeah, sure, some random robbers attempted to attack him, but he dealt with them easily enough. One tried to stop him with poisonous gas, another, he had to admit, had a fairly strong grip in his hands (and an extremely annoying way of speaking), and then there was the absolute weirdo who seemed to be more interested in eating his guns than fighting with them. A sniper was a bit too close for comfort to get him, but in the end Gakushuu escaped him, too.
Evening was getting close and dusk was beginning to settle. He had left all roads far behind, but thankfully the terrain wasn’t too difficult. Gakushuu fastened his pace a little. He had hoped to make it back home before night fell, but he had spent a bit too much time dealing with the robbers. At this rate, he might have to spend the night at his “grandmother’s.”
“Well, hello there,” a soft voice suddenly said from the darkness, and he nearly gave a start.
He hadn’t sensed anyone watching him. Had someone truly been able to sneak upon him like this?
“Who’s there?” he asked, carefully keeping his voice even.
Someone – something? – stepped out of the dark forest. Gakushuu’s eyes widened a little, looking at the sight. Gleaming yellow eyes, a pair of rather fluffy ears covered in red fur, toothiest grin he had ever seen… He could just stare.
The other’s grin faded gradually away. “What? Never seen a wolf before?”
Gakushuu frowned. “You are… a bit red for a wolf.” Not to mention big. As far as he knew, a wolf shouldn’t be looking him almost in the eye.
“Shows what you know,” the other grunted. “I’m a red wolf.”
“Hmm.” Gakushuu wasn’t fully convinced, but in the end, the exact species of this beast was irrelevant. “So, what do you want?”
The self-declared wolf sighed. “Just to say hello! It’s quite an event to see a new face around here.”
“Okay then. Hello, and goodbye.” Gakushuu nodded and started walking on.
“Hey, c’mon!” The wolf ran after him. “We just met, don’t be in such a hurry!”
“Night is coming,” Gakushuu said shortly. “I want to reach my destination before that.”
“Ah,” the wolf breathed. “Of course. You poor humans and your lacking eyesight. I do understand. So…” The wolf jogged up to him to walk beside him. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
“So suspicious…” the wolf sighed. “Come now, I know this forest through and through. If you tell me your destination, I could guide you there.”
“I don’t need a guide.”
“Mmm… if you say so. Juuust… if you continue down this way, you’ll soon run into thorny thickets that’s very hard to go through. It might seem tempting to go by it on the left, but that would lead you to a treacherous swamp. But if you head this way instead,” the wolf nodded to right, “you’ll soon find a path made by animals that just might be handy for you.”
Gakushuu said nothing but walked stubbornly on. He wasn’t foolish enough to follow a complete stranger – let alone a wolf – in a situation like this. Soon enough, though, he found those thickets the wolf had spoken about. He paused to consider. Yes, the terrain did seem easier, if he tried to go around this place on the left, but… hmm.
Was this a trap? He glanced at the wolf who was watching him with a much too innocent smile, and turned then right, against his better judgment.
“My offer still stands,” the wolf said, following him. “Just tell me where you’re going, and I’ll get you there in a moment.”
“And I bet you’re helping me out of the goodness of your heart, huh,” Gakushuu said dryly.
“Oh, of course! Although I would not mind it if you were to offer me something in return…”
“Like what?”
“Well, maybe a sniff of whatever you’re carrying in the basket,” the wolf said, and Gakushuu instinctively drew the basket closer. “Come now, that’s not too greedy, is it?”
“What is in this basket isn’t my property,” Gakushuu said. “So I’m afraid I can’t promise you any of it. Even a sniff.”
“Who are you taking it to, then?” the wolf asked, clearly curious.
“My grandmother,” Gakushuu said after just a short hesitation.
“Hmm.”
“She’s sick.”
“Of course.”
They walked a moment in silence. There really was, Gakushuu saw, some kind of a path going through the forest. It headed approximately in the right direction, so he started following it.
“So, your grandma lives in the cabin that’s by the brook down there, huh?” the wolf asked. Gakushuu said nothing, but the wolf ignored that and went on. “Well, it’s the only building anywhere nearby that you possibly could reach before dark. Funny though, I thought it’s just a hunting cabin.”
Gakushuu just shrugged.
“Follow me,” the wolf said after a while and left the path. “This is a shortcut.”
Gakushuu was still a bit hesitant to do that, but to be honest, he had just been thinking he probably should leave the path and head in that direction. Oh well. He’d just be extra alert and keep a careful eye on the wolf. If he tried something, he would yet regret it.
Soon enough he heard the brook, and then he saw the cabin. It did look like an average hunting cabin.
The wolf paused. “Sure you want to go in there?” he asked.
“What, you don’t like hunting cabins? Scared of hunters?”
“As if.” The wolf snorted. “But… ah, I forgot. It’s not just your eyesight that is lacking. This place smells all wrong.”
“Yeah?” To be honest, Gakushuu wasn’t surprised. This whole thing was clearly nothing but a test his father had created for him. But not delivering the “medicine” to his “grandmother” would equal failure. Therefore, he had no other option but to enter this cabin.
And he did so.
It was so dim there. He could see a desk and chairs, a cupboard… head of a deer on the wall… but there was no one in there.
“Hello?” he called out.
“Oh, hello,” a squeaky voice replied. “Is it you, my darling grandson?”
 “Yes… grandmother,” he said and walked carefully deeper into the cabin. “I’m bringing you medicine.”
“Oh, what a good boy you are!” the voice squeaked.
Gakushuu entered another room. A bedroom. There was a figure lying on the bed. A very big figure. Gakushuu squinted his eyes, trying to see. It was even darker in this room. There was, perhaps, a face half-hidden under a white sheet. Were those dark dots eyes looking at him?
“Grandmother…” he said slowly. “What tiny eyes you’ve got.”
“Still they see you very well, dear boy!” the voice squeaked. Yes, it clearly came from the bed. For a moment Gakushuu had suspected someone had merely placed some pillows into it to fake a body.
He moved a little closer. She saw very well, huh? Unlike him, in this darkness. But the body lying in that bed – if it was real – sure was big, that much he did see.
“What a large body you have,” he muttered.
“All the better to hug you with, my boy!”
Please don’t, Gakushuu thought to himself.
The sheet fell from the face as the form on the bed moved. The grin that was revealed from underneath it was much toothier than even the wolf’s.
“What a big mouth you’ve got, grandmother,” Gakushuu said, his hand grasping his knife.
“All the better to eat you with!” exclaimed the creature in the bed, and suddenly half a dozen tentacles shot at him. Gakushuu slashed at them with his knife, cutting two, dodging three, but one still caught him. Only for a short moment, though, as something red flashed in the corner of his eye and the wolf had sunk his sharp teeth into the tentacle.
“Augh!” Something big, yellow and tentacled, clad in black robes, stood on the bed, wailing. “That hurt!”
“That was the meaning,” the wolf said with a grin. “Mmm, tastes like octopus! Nice. It’s been too long since I’ve had seafood. Hey, Little Red Riding Hood, how about we make some sushi for ourselves?”
“You can have it all for yourself,” Gakushuu said. “And don’t start making weird names for me. I’m called Gakushuu.”
The yellow thing was flailing on the bed. “You! You would eat me? That’s so rude!”
“Didn’t you just say you’re going to eat me, grandma?” Gakushuu asked, jumping into a swift attack. The octopus monster dodged him, impossibly swift, and then yelped, having to dodge the wolf, too.
“Well, yes! But I’m the monster of this story, so that’s how it should be! The monster isn’t supposed to be eaten!”
Tentacles whizzed across the room, fast. Gakushuu had to rely on all his training just to dodge them. A counterattack was simply impossible.
“Tactical retreat!” the wolf yelled and dashed toward the door. Gakushuu didn’t really like the idea, but under the circumstances it seemed sensible.
They rushed out of the cabin. Gakushuu wasn’t quite sure if having more room would be a good or a bad thing against this opponent, but it did feel better than the cramped cabin.
“He’s coming!” he shouted as a yellow blur flew out of the cabin after them. Again, there was nothing he could do but dodge – well, at least there was more room to do that, now.
Again, the wolf jumped at a tentacle and caught it in his teeth. A sharp flick sent him flying and he landed in the brook. That didn’t stop him, though, and just a moment later he was making another attack on the tentacle creature.
“Ah! You’re all wet!” Again, the wolf was sent flying, but Gakushuu paused. A few droplets had fallen on a tentacle, and it was… melting? The wolf was back on his feet in an instant, and for a moment their eyes met. In a silent agreement they started dodging in a way that led the creature toward the brook. At one point, Gakushuu grasped a bucket that had been lying by the cabin, pretending to use it as a shield.
It took a good while of dancing around, but finally the creature stood right at the edge of the river at the perfect spot. Again their eyes met, and both knew exactly what to do. Gakushuu raised his knife, locking his eyes with the tiny beads of the octopus monster. He parried a tentacle, made a fake attack and then threw the knife toward its head. The octopus parried it with ease, but right then the wolf took a firm grasp of the hem of his robe and pulled, strongly. Gakushuu too flung himself at the octopus who fell toward the brook, suddenly shrieking in terror.
Somehow the long tentacles grasped a hold of trees and stones around the brook, stopping the fall in the last moment. The wolf landed on the octopus’s chest and Gakushuu already had the bucket filled with water, about to throw it at his face.
“Surrender!” the wolf growled, and Gakushuu paused. Huh? Wasn’t this a fight to death?
The octopus’s eyes had a strangely panicked look in them (for being nothing but little beads, that is) as he glanced from the growling wolf to Gakushuu grim face and the bucket that had almost been emptied over his head.
“I surrender!” he shrieked.
“Great.” The wolf jumped to the ground and grinned at Gakushuu. “Our victory, comrade!”
“Are we really going to let him live?” Gakushuu asked with a frown. “He was going to kill me!”
“No I wasn’t!” the octopus shouted. “Of course not! What do you take me for, some kind of a monster?”
“…you yourself said you’re the monster of this story,” Gakushuu pointed out.
“Well, yes, but…” The octopus flailed, flustered. “It was just for dramatic effect! Of course I wasn’t going to kill you! Your father would have been so mad with me!”
“Father.” Gakushuu sighed. “Of course. He hired you, didn’t he.” It wasn’t even really a question.
The octopus nodded, looking miserable. “He wanted me to test you, that’s all! I wouldn’t have really eaten you or anything.”
“And that vial… it was your reward, right?”
“Talking about which…” While they were talking, the wolf had gone inside to get the basket. “It belongs to me now, you know.”
“Hey,” Gakushuu said, ignoring the octopus who was wailing something about needing it. “I never said anything about giving it to you.”
“Oh, come now!” The wolf glared at him. “You’d have never done this without my help.”
“That’s debatable,” Gakushuu said, even though, to be honest, it truly wasn’t. He did remember the iron grip of the tentacle that had grabbed him right in the beginning. If the wolf hadn’t come to his help, the fight might have been over right then and there. “But,” he went on magnanimously, “you did come to my aid – even though I never asked for help – and it’s not like I needed that vial for anything, so… you can have it.”
“How very kind of you,” the wolf said dryly. “Would you help me…”
“But!” the octopus wailed. “It was promised to me! And I did my job, so I’ve earned it! Your father told you to give it to me, didn’t he!”
“I was told to give it to my grandmother, and you,” he gave the octopus a long look, “are clearly not that.”
“Buuuut! You don’t understand! I’m under a curse and unless I drink that magic potion I’ll never become human again!”
“Tough luck,” the wolf muttered. “Open it for me, won’t you?”
“So you too want to drink this?” Gakushuu asked, curious.
He picked up the vial and opened it. He glanced at the octopus. There were actual tears flowing down his round cheeks. Gakushuu sighed.
“If my father had this, he can surely get more. Just go ask for another vial”
“Have you ever tried to deal with your father,” the octopus whined. “Who knows what he’ll have me do this time!”
Gakushuu paused. True enough. And perhaps he shouldn’t hold his father’s actions against this octopus. He’d just been doing what he’d been told to, anyway.
“Well then. Fifty-fifty, how about that? Both of you get half of it.”
The wolf gave him a thoughtful look. “I’m not sure if that’ll be enough.”
“You drink half of it,” Gakushuu decreed. “If it’s not enough, you get also the rest.” He looked at the octopus. “That’s the best deal you can get.”
The octopus just nodded, still the epitome of pitifulness.
“Okay then.” Gakushuu carefully poured half of the liquid in the vial to the wolf who drank it. The wolf shimmered softly, his outline grew strangely blurry, and suddenly instead of a wolf a boy was standing there.
“Huh…” He felt carefully his arms and chest and patted then his head, grimacing a little. “I told you it won’t be enough!”
Gakushuu eyes were transfixed on the wolf ears on his head. “That’s not too bad, though, is it?” he said, reaching out. Yeah, the ears were just as fluffy and soft as they looked like. “They’re kind of…” cute, he was going to say, when he suddenly realized he stood there ruffling the ears of a stark naked boy of his own age.
He turned around swiftly, his cheeks hot. “You can have the rest,” he said, giving the vial to the octopus who gave it an uncertain look.
“…if I’m still going to have tentacles…” he mumbled, but still drank the rest of the drink.
Gakushuu waited with mild horror, wondering if they’d end up with some kind of an octopus/human chimera, but in the end the young man who appeared in the place of the octopus looked perfectly normal.
“Hmm,” the wolf-boy said, sounding a bit disappointed. “How boring.”
The man grinned. “Hey, this is…!” Suddenly two tentacles shot out from under his hair, and he gave a startled yelp.
“Oh, that’s more like it!” the ex-wolf stated happily. “Cool.”
Gakushuu sighed, turning away from the man who was freaking out, trying to see his image in the brook’s water. He would certainly have a thing or two to say to his father once he returned home. If he returned. He was certainly more pissed off with the man than probably ever before.
It was already dark. He started walking toward the cabin. He’d spend the night there and decide in the morning what he’d do.
The wolf-boy was suddenly by his side. “So! There’s only one bed there. Shall we share or will you sleep on the floor?”
Gakushuu spluttered. “Why the hell would I sleep on the floor!”
“You’re the one with clothes, so you won’t get cold.” The boy grinned at him, something extremely wolfy in his expression. “Or then we can decide who gets the bed in a fair fight.”
“I’m done with fighting tonight,” Gakushuu muttered. “Whatever. It’s a big enough bed, I guess.”
“Uh, I…” The man had rushed after them and was about to say something.
“You’re not joining us!” Gakushuu exclaimed. “You’ve your robes, you’re fine on the floor.” The man fell silent, a hurt look on his face. Gakushuu paid that no attention but marched into the bedroom, followed by the smirking boy.
“God,” Gakushuu mumbled as he settled down on the bed, still fully clothed. He was so tired. It had been a long day.
The other boy clambered into the bed too. “So,” he said, “what shall we do tomorrow? You wanna stay here or…”
“Who said we’re going to do anything?” Gakushuu said. “What you should do is to find some clothes. I’ll decide what I’m doing tomorrow.”
“I just think we’re a pretty good team, don’t you think? We could go adventuring together! I’m sure that together…”
“Yeah, sure, absolutely. Shut up, I’m tired.”
“Okay, okay. Goodnight then, Shuu.” The boy curled up next to him, a bit too close.
“I told you not to come up with stupid nicknames for me,” Gakushuu mumbled, but he was too tried to be really mad. “Stupid wolf.”
“I’m Karma,” the boy said.
“Figures,” Gakushuu muttered, on the borderline between sleep and waking.
Quite soon the two boys were in a deep sleep. In the other room the man lay awake quite long, trying to decide if he wanted to be the one to tell his employer that his son had eloped with a wolf, or if he should rather just run too while he could.
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elspethdekarios · 6 months
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WIP ask!! Meeting Morena?? I have to know what El thinks about Morena and vice versa
hehe in short, they get along great. Morena is the opposite of El's mom in every way so she really appreciates having a mother figure in her life. Idk how I feel about what I've written, but here's part of it:
“Brace yourself,” Gale says as they approach his childhood home. “You’re about to receive a hug tight enough to crack your ribs.”
The house is a pale yellow with dark wooden beams criss-crossing the exterior and a matching wooden fence along the sides. A trellis abundant with vines and white flowers stands over the gate, which opens to a stone path leading to the front door. The path cuts between the front garden, a patch of tomatoes, peppers, and herbs on one side and various magical plants on the other, the front wall of the house lined with beautiful pale pink rose bushes. A light cloud of smoke rises out of the chimney, leaving a hint of firewood lingering in the crisp autumn air.
“It’s so cute, Gale!” Elspeth says as he unlatches the gate. “You grew up in an actual fairytale cottage.”
He stops walking to look at her.
“You grew up in a capital-H House which may as well be a miniature palace, and you’re impressed with my mother’s quaint little bungalow.” 
She smiles and nods. “It feels like a real home.”
“You truly are the woman of my dreams.”
He kisses the back of her hand and they continue to the front door, which swings open before Gale can even reach for the handle. Morena stands in the doorway, her wide mouth smiling to reveal perfectly straight and white teeth, cheeks pushing up her kohl-lined eyes, laugh lines and crows feet showing off years of love and laughter and certainly some heartbreak from the troubling adventures of her only son. Her eyes and hair are deep brown, like his, and a portion near the front of her thick, wavy hair has grayed with age, framing the right side of her tan face with a strip of silver. She takes in the sight of her son for a brief moment before pulling him into a hug. A head shorter than him, he hunches over to rest his chin on her shoulder and she squeezes him close.
“My boy,” she says, her eyes closed, savoring their reunion. “Oh, my boy. How I’ve missed you.”
“Hi, mum,” he says as she loosens their embrace, still holding him at arm’s length as if to make sure he’s really there. “I’ve missed you, too.”
“One of these days you’re going to give me a heart attack, Gale–you know that, don’t you? I never–”
“Yes, I know, I’m sorry–”
“And poor Tara’s been just as worried sick about you–”
“El, this is my mother,” he interrupts. Elspeth’s been grinning ear to ear as she watches their reunion, admiring the bond they share.
“Oh, dear, where are my manners? I’ll get onto Gale later,” she shoots him a look that says I’m not done with you and reaches to hold El’s hands. “Elspeth. It’s so lovely to meet you.”
Morena pulls her into a hug, and Gale wasn’t lying–she’s stronger than she looks. El savors it, a mother’s hug. “It’s lovely to meet you, too,” El says, Morena’s presence already warm and welcoming. She smells like creamy, floral amber spiced with incense and a loaf of fresh bread straight out of the oven.
“Come in, come in,” she beckons when she lets go of Elspeth, motioning them into the house. Gale gestures for El to walk in first, and Morena shuts the door behind them. “Take a seat, and I’ll grab the tea.” 
Gale leads Elspeth to the dining room table and pulls a chair out for her.
“On your best behavior, I see,” she teases him.
He plants a quick kiss on top of her head before taking a seat next to her. “Not trying to get reprimanded in front of my fianceé.”
“Is that Gale?” comes a familiar voice from the sitting room.
“Hello, Tara.”
The tressym jumps onto the table, stretching her front legs and pushing her tail into the air. A low purr resonates from her as Gale scratches above her tail.
“Lovely to see you again, dear,” she says to Elspeth before settling into a cushion near the window.
“You too, Tara,” El says. “Caught any good pigeons lately?”
“I haven’t had to,” she replies. “Mrs. Dekarios’s cooking is far superior.”
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sapphirestars18 · 2 years
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I have brain rotted too close to the sun and created an entire video game in my head that I am offering to the Tumblr gods on this fine, fine night:
A game in the same vein as The Path 2009, Among the Sleep, and What Remains of Edith Finch where you play as seven siblings (six sisters and one non-binary sibling) ages 9-21 each based off a fairytale princess who have moved away from their isolated cottage home after a car crash killed their mother.
Each sibling is walking alone back home from school or jobs only to discover that the path back to their apartment is blocked off. Trying to detour in the woods, each sister comes across a labyrinth-like forest where in order to escape must find five items that are attach to their happiest-and traumatic-memories in order to activate The Mirror, what you are told is the way out. The items and going through their memories unravels each sibling’s perspective of their life before the car crash and how it affected them unravels. Plot twist, the mother wasn’t exactly the best parent.
If anyone is remotely interested in this concept I will gladly go into more detail about each sibling because I love absolutely all of them.
(This is also a call to anyone who also found Izzzyzzz’s video about The Path I’m desperate for people to talk to)
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harleyacoincidence · 1 year
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Greetings and Salutations! And happy FairyTale Tuesday!
Today, your characters, whether they be ocs or your favorite book/show/movie characters, will be traveling through the magical world, which is that of the land fairytales.
Now, on with the show!
What fairytale are your characters traveling to?
What fairytale characters are your characters going to be in this story?
How did your characters get into the land of fairytales?
How did they react?
Are they trying to get back home?
Or are they happy in fairytale land?
Who do they meet?
Is there something about fairytale land that irks them?
Is there something eerie about this fairytale land?
Like there's something dark underneath this seemingly cheerful land?
What exactly is wrong with fairytale land and the people who live here that give your characters this odd feeling?
What goes wrong?
Are the fairytales beginning to go awry?
How did the fairytales go wrong?
Did someone die?
Are the fairytale creatures and people beginning to go crazy?
Are the buildings crumbling and changing? Did Grandma's cottage just turn into a slaughterhouse?
Is that blood seeping out from under the door!?
What's that screaming sound coming from the bakery?
How do your characters try to stop the madness unfolding?
What makes your characters unable to stop the fairytales from unraveling?
What makes them decide to give up and leave fairytale land?
How do they leave?
They need to leave.
Before it's too late.
Hurry!
Get out!
Run, run, run!!!
Who's chasing your characters?
There after you!
Hurry!
Back to your world characters!
Run, run, run, run, faster than ginger bread man can!
Did they make it out?
Is it just me, or is it kind of dark in here?
Oh! Look, a blue glowing orb has appeared on a pedastal!
I think there's an image inside of the orb!
Why does the image make your characters scared?
"....."
Are you sure you made it out of fairytale land?
Ohoho…you’re really making me pull out the Word document to write the draft for this one out! Finally, a bit of a memory challenge! I’ve chosen a few of my own characters none of you have heard of before for this one. I like to keep things fresh.
Meet Rafflesia Mallory and Jacob Amond, cousins. They hate each other for genuine reasons, and that’s all you need to know about their relationship with each other.
Rafflesia Mallory is a mix of the most naive extrovert you’ve ever met, a tragic hero, a war criminal, and the kid in school nobody wanted to be friends with. In the later parts of this story’s canon, she is entirely twisted (both morally and multiple times physically) thanks to Hemlock, a god of corruption who is considered her lover.
Jacob Amond (who is actually dead in canon by the way), on the other hand, inherited the Joker’s manipulative qualities, got full custody of indifference from his divorce with Garfield, and found anger issues upon looting the cold inventory of Emperor Palpatine. Oh, did I mention his sense of humour? He has one.
On with the show indeed! This is going to be a long one, perhaps with a planned intermission.
The fairytale randomly chosen by a spinner is Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, one I’m (thankfully) fairly familiar with.
Rafflesia would most likely be the Queen of Hearts, Jacob being the Cheshire Cat.
I can see two scenarios play out for how they arrived. These two were most likely going for a walk together (as they often do) when they came upon a large hole and Rafflesia was dared to peer in. Jacob would push her inside  and Rafflesia would grab onto him and grab him down with her. Alternatively, since I have the privilege of using the most recent version of Rafflesia (where she dons the titles of war criminal, mass murderer, and part-time witch), I can also say that she attempted to create a doorway to a dimension in which she could imprison Jacob for good and got sucked in.
These two are in awe of their new surroundings but are confused and mildly horrified all the same. Jacob would immediately berate Rafflesia, insisting that this and everything else about their lives was her fault (and for some of it, he’s not wrong). Rafflesia would be miserable and Jacob would want to explore, but in the end would be desperate to return home.
Yes, they definitely would attempt to get back home. Rafflesia’s the type to escape Jacob for a bit and try to make a doorway to escape without him. However, that would not happen, due to her minimal experience with magic while not having anyone around to guide her.
Neither of these two turn out to be happy where they are.
They’d meet the White Rabbit, the Hatter, the March Hare, and the Dormouse. I’m sure they’d meet others, but it’s for certain that few of them would leave alive.
Nothing special would irk these two much, other than the fact that they literally entered a place that should have stayed in the pages of a beloved children’s book.
If you know anything about any of my work, you always know that I’m a sucker for corruption. Obviously something sinister is chilling under the noses of everybody. Luckily, I have a few masters of corruption up my sleeve. Aside from the dead one. Yeah, he’s really dead. Like, he literally got himself looted and this was before he even died. He was the embodiment of time, by the way. The only reason anything is still running somewhat smoothly is because Rafflesia decided to steal his weapon and run off with it, only to have him killed. She still very much has that freaking sword.
What’s wrong with Wonderland, you ask? [laughs in angry corruption god who can’t enter Wonderland to find his girlfriend altering and destroying the characters within so one of them might be able to bring her back out upon fully bending to his will] Not much. The characters are starting to lose resemblance to their original selves (in both personality and physical appearance, the latter occurring a considerable amount of time after the former). Oh yeah, and some of the ones that the duo had killed coming back to life. You know, the usual.
Everything goes wrong. Rafflesia and Jacob find themselves cornered at every angle in Wonderland, and since the characters (including Alice!) have been mutated beyond recognition, they are unable to speak. Rafflesia and Jacob are unable to find out their true motives, so they resort to attempts to kill the entities. However, their deaths barely last a few hours. This forces them to regroup in the forest, where they are surprisingly left alone for a more noticeable length of time. There is a downside to this, though, as the characters begin to meld with each other, gaining more abilities with each character joining. I think this covers the next few points, but I will talk about the changes in setting.
The areas such as the forest, gardens, and castle are the same, just…entirely lifeless. There’s no one left in any of them, and the sky has been reduced to a greyish-lavender cloud cover. There are no screams, everything is eerily silent except for the occasional gust of wind. Jacob and Rafflesia would kill for some sort of music, no matter what it may be.
Apparently violence is the only thing either of them can think of to stop all this, as if their many failed attempts didn’t say otherwise. Either way, Rafflesia is seeing red and Jacob is more than willing to best her in the art of getting rid of what seems to be a zombie apocalypse. Little do they know that Hemlock is behind all of this, and refuses to let whatever is destroying his ambassadors to hinder them entirely.
Only when they are in the heat of battle once again do they realize that there is no hope in fighting. They run as far as they can, buying them time from the abomination that was once each beloved character stalking them.
By this point, I can imagine Rafflesia trying to open up another dimension door, only to fail (for the thirtieth time or whatever). By this point, I can see Jacob getting consumed by the beast due to being the slower of the duo, which would be extremely funny to Rafflesia, considering how much she hates him. This would, in turn, cause Hemlock to realize a new presence within his monster and begin to piece together what had torn his lover from him. In his now even more aggravated state, the behemoth would end up chasing Rafflesia faster than before, seemingly offering no escape.
Rafflesia would not be able to make it out, thanks to the increase speed and strength of the creature chasing her.
Alright, this is our planned intermission. Go get some water or food or something. Stay with me just a little longer, okay? Thanks.
Thankfully, she would not be consumed by the monster, instead awaking inside of a dark, cold room.
Upon first glance, the room appears to be entirely devoid of, well, anything. After walking through it , though, Rafflesia stumbles across a twelve foot stone pedestal, one she swears she’s seen before.
She’d climb the pedestal, using its intricate designs to keep her grip, and would eventually come to the top to see said glowing blue orb. The colour almost reminds her of a brand of toothpaste, but not quite.
Since she is naturally curious, of course she’d look inside the orb, only to be met with the frightening sight of someone staring back at her. They bear some resemblance to her, the only differences being their lack of a red shirt, their gaunt looks, and longer, more slender figure. The joints of their fingers make the skin around them bulge out in ways Rafflesia feels they shouldn’t. The reflection slowly tilts their head up to make eye contact with Rafflesia, revealing their face to match the impossible frailty of their hands. Their eyes are sunken entirely, appearing only as small, dark marbles that shine in the little light nearby. Rafflesia gets the sinking feeling of familiarity. A few letters from above the reflection’s head, made of the strange fog which is now visible in the room, glowing red. “The Story Master” they read, sending a chill down the young woman’s spine. The letters begin to make the fog more visible, glowing like a pair of headlights. Heck, the contents of the room begin to change, as the pedestal shrinks to a measly four feet high and the fog begins to behave more like smoke.
Rafflesia begins to back away from the pedestal until only two small red lights are visible from within the smoke cloud. She has only ever seen one case like this before.
“Hemlock?” she whispers, to no audible response.
The pedestal grinds against the ground as it moves rapidly toward her, stopping just three feet away. She cautiously approaches, and finds the text on the orb to have changed. The reflection is gone. The only thing present shining with the blue glow are the words “You want to see him? Then write,” before the orb is replaced with a lantern, a notebook, and a pen.
Thank you so much for the prompts! I missed writing for this work, even though it technically is complete and this is (as of now) not canon. Perhaps I can take inspiration from this for a dream sequence...
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akitomojito · 1 year
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I HAVE FINALLY AWOKEN FROM MY FUCKING SLUMBER. Anyways, take yet another brain rot of two characters of mine, the next thing will be soon, since I’m actually not rotting and feel the need to feed the few sleep deprived and needy people here <3
(Word count: 1,513)
(NOT FINISHED ‼️ I add to this occasionally since I made this while I was newer to tumblr, but I’ll keep updating it every now and then 😈)
”You have quite the wondeful garden, my love. And doing this all on your own? I’m truly impressed.” A small chuckle erose from [REDACTED’S] lips as he made his statement, leaning back against a white, polished table. The flowering designs carved into the furniture made it blend it perfectly, yet simultaneously with the surrounding garden. From the lush green bushes, to the fruit that either sprung from tree’s or other neighboring bushes, it truly looked as if a fairytale had been made reality. The sunset had begun to fade in, coating the garden in shades of pink and orange, making it all the more grand.
“Well, didn’t I tell you I grew up in a cottage? Of course I’d be dealt down with the cards of my trade from my home. Besides, it calms me down, and keeps me sane.” Another male replied to the other man’s comment. A slight bit of eagerness in his tone. That came from the humble joy of picking his garden’s fruit, to be more specific, his delightful strawberries. Nobody could grow them the way he liked, so he simply did it himself. He sighed, looking down at his basket. Looking at the name, “Quinn” carved into it, slight embarrassment crawling up on to his face.
“Did you seriously write my name down on my basket?” Asked Quinn, turning his head around to suspiciously stare at the face of his beloved. He couldn’t lie, he certainly was something to the eye. From the brown pants and boots, all the way up to the cream turtleneck, it was as if he was staring at a higher being other than human. [REDACTED] seemed to catch on to Quinn’s staring, raising a brow and proceeding to look around the heavenly area. “Just perfect for our wedding venue, wouldn’t you agree?” Quinn simply scoffed, slowly getting up from his crouched position from picking the fresh berries. But it couldn’t be denied how that of a strawberry color spread along his cheeks, even making as far down as his hands. He could practically feel the flirtatious stare from the man near him, smelling it.

”This is a garden, not a playground, don’t get ahead of yourself.” Gently snapped Quinn, slightly avoiding much needed eye contact from [REDACTED] as possible. He was taking few steps to meet the face of the brute, pondering his own thoughts. A wedding? The idea at first seemed brash, but the more he thought about it, the more his cheeks grew in color. It was as if his cheeks were like thin paper, and some ink was slowly seeping through, leaving behind an annoying, yet obvious stain. How could this man say a simple sentence, and made him feel like he was questioning himself more than he already was? “Oh, shucks. Let a man dream now, sweetheart. That is,” With a sly movement of his hand, [REDACTED] lifted up Quinn’s wrist with his index finger, grinning that infamous grin of his. Slowly, his index finger traced along Quinn’s palm, seeming to follow the permanent lines in his skin. “Unless you’d like to make my dream a reality.”

Quinn could feel his eye slightly twitch, this time deciding to stand his ground against the one in front of him. He didn’t quite glare at him, but gave him a subtle, warning stare. It was a mixture of a demand, and a plead. Almost begging for him not to fluster him more, yet at the same time, continue to adorn him in his love. His attention quickly caught on to a small, white plate. It sat perfectly still on the table his lover was up against, the reason Quinn payed attention to it was due to the fact there were once, a good amount of strawberries laid out across the plate. Now, there was nothing. ”Did you really eat all of the strawberries I picked? Didn’t even bother to leave one for me?” Quinn proceeded to give [REDACTED] a heavy side eye, attempting to counter the statement made previously before. Internally, he smirked to himself. There wasn’t much of a reason he suddenly felt cocky, perhaps now he could put the somewhat of a pain in his rear end in his place. Oh, what an utter joy that would be. The male had been messing around with him all day, he just had to be taught a lesson.
“No, no, I did leave you one. It’s right here. Maybe if you paid more attention to me, you would’ve noticed.” Quinn looked up at him, realizing that in his other hand close to his face, another strawberry sat comfortably in between his thin, slender fingers. Quinn pushed his bottom lip out just a small bit, fiddling with the bottom part of his blouse. He tried to distract himself with the color of his top, a dark, forest green color it was. One of his personal favorites. He looked back up at [REDACTED,] however only with his eyes. “. .I can see that quite well, but you still ate them all. You’re rather lucky I happen to have more on me currently.”

”Or you could simply say I’m lucky I have such an adorable future husband to pick through the thorn bushes for me.” Quinn rolled his eyes, [REDACTED] couldn’t tell if he did that to be playfully rude, or just straight up nasty. In an attempt to distract himself, he offered the strawberry to Quinn with a warm smile. Quinn looked up at the fruit, then [REDACTED], cautiously, slowly but gradually moving his hand towards his to take hold of the fruit. Eventually taking it away from him all together, simply holding the strawberry in front of his face. “I just love it when you’re so kind enough to leave me your leftovers.” Quinn remarked sarcastically, not even realizing how [REDACTED’S] hand was slowly closing in around his wrist. He only noticed when he felt his hand being moved. By the time he looked to see what the man was doing, the fruit was almost pressed against his beloved’s lips, barely inches away. Quinn’s eyes slightly widened, not entirely expecting such a thing to happen. “Well, how about this? I’ll eat my last strawberry, and you could have the rest you just now, picked? If you’d like, we could share.” [REDACTED] Brought Quinn’s hand a little bit closer to his lips, smirking. “So, why don’t we make this one extra memorable?”
Quinn barely had a moment of thought, before the feeling of soft, glossy lips grazed the sides of his fingers. [REDACTED] Slightly licked the strawberry Quinn held in his hand, gradually taking small bites of the berry. As if wanting the moment to last longer. His eyes stared teasingly into Quinn’s, pleased with the redness that had spread all across his face, as well as the heat from his hands. Softly, he ate the strawberry completely from Quinn’s hand, leaving nothing left. However, he didn’t let go of Quinn’s wrist, seeming to gently lick away the apparent “leftover” of the already eaten strawberry, slightly sucking on the tips of Quinn’s fingers. Leaving the male left out for words of rationality. 

A smirk grazed over the lips of [REDACTED] without fail, not once breaking eye contact with Quinn. He felt like he couldn’t if he would have chosen to done so. There was just something about the man standing right across from him, something that echoed in passion. From the day he first met him, there was something special deep within his pulsing veins and body, and [REDACTED] wanted to have it all to himself. He didn’t mean to be greedy, but he simply just couldn’t help it whatsoever. The way Quinn’s eyes were widened with shock, blush coating his face as if it were thick raisen rolling down the bark of a tree, the trembling in his eyes. Oh, how couldn’t he not tease him? He was utter perfection in his eyes, and, [REDACTED] being the person he was, simply couldn’t let such a divine appetizer scurry away on him without getting a taste.
“Oh, darling, don’t tease me with that look. You’re too adorable that way!” [REDACTED] chuckled slyly, seeming to be enjoying the look in his beloved’s eyes. He began to pull his lips away from the blushing hand of his lover, pulling back to lean against the polished white table once more. He stared down at the man below him, with a grin larger than he could’ve ever thought he could have. Something [REDACTED] always loved about himself and Quinn was the height difference. He, standing at nearly six feet, while Quinn only was a mere five feet, along with six other inches. Quinn used to get so defensive when he brought it up, but over the years, there was a glint in his eyes. Hinting that he in fact loved it equally as much. “Oh, enough of that! Do you have no sense of embarrassment when it comes to these types of. .things?! You’re always initiating them, anyway, but why in the most visible of places?”
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vinvantae · 2 years
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Hiiii, omg I’ve just finished the last part of baby steps and bestie I basically RAN into reading all of your fics and one shot and you are SO talented. I’ve had this idea for ages but I suck at writing so I propose this to you. Feel free to don’t write this if you don’t like it or to change what you want but I was thinking of a one shot with Danny ric where the reader lives in Ireland or Scotland and she’s a super simple person, who lives in a cottage and loves incense and crystals and Daniel goes to her house after the last two shitty races (especially Montreal, I will never recover) and they just enjoy each other’s presence, she bring him to some nice place in the nature and he just get a fully recover in the calmness of countryside and stuff. Basically just a lot of fluff. Thanks if you’ll do this, again, I really love all your work 💜💜💜
Wow, thank you so much! 🧡 hope you enjoy it x
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His grip was tight on the steering wheel as he coasted through the narrow country lanes - tall bushes lining the roads, the smell of wildflowers and the sound of birds chirping filled his senses but he couldn’t focus. All he wanted was to be with you.
Nothing in his life felt more like fate than meeting you - you weren’t an avid sports fan or even a big traveller, but one night in a tiny bar in island changed it all. He’d treated himself to a small trip to a remote town after Silverstone, and he’d never expected to find the girl of his dreams strumming the guitar up on a small stage. Her voice twinkling through the air, capturing the attention of the patrons.
As soon as you’d stepped down, he couldn’t help but swoop in and he was glad he did. From the moment you first spoke he was smitten, and now, just over a year later, you’d become his sanctuary. His little hideaway from the world.
Your small cottage was nestled away in the Irish countryside, like something out of a fairytale with Ivy crawling up the walls, vegetables in the garden and your chickens clucking at his feet as he opened the gate.
“Ladies.” He chuckled softly, trying his best not to trip over them as they gathered around him. “Been a while, hasn’t it?”
“I think they thought you forgot about them.”
The smile that took over his face at the sound of your voice was instinctual. “My love.”
He carefully stepped passed the birds to sweep you up into a bear hug, your legs hanging in the air as he swung you - tearing delighted giggles from you. His favourite sound in the world. You wrapped your arms around him, nuzzling into his neck.
“Missed you so much, I’m sorry about the races, darling” You hummed softly.
“Don’t care about that right now. Just happy to be here with you, y/n.” He purred, pulling back enough to look in your eyes - the fond sparkle that he loved in them. “You wear that just for me?”
He gently placed you on the ground and twirled you - taking in every inch of you in your cute summer dress.
“Perhaps. But, I’ve got a cup of chamomile tea with your name on it, my love.” You tugged his hand and led him inside. “So no getting distracted by how cute my butt looks.”
Every time he came to visit you, he felt more and more at home. It didn’t need to be grand and flashy like a lot of his friends home, and admittedly his own, it was all you. From the little crystals dotted around in specific locations, to the soft smell of incense in the air and the one too many crocheted blankets folded up on the old rocking chair - it was just peaceful.
“Hungry?”
“Just tea is fine, thank you. Want to spend time with you.” He smiled softly, earning a gentle kiss on his forehead before you disappeared briefly into the kitchen.
He sat on the sofa and took a deep breath- if you had told him a year ago that he would’ve ended up with a girl like you, he wouldn’t believe it. You were calm, quiet - everything he wasn’t - and you helped ground him in a way no one else had done before. After you placed the cup of tea on a coaster in front of him, he wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you against him.
“Careful!” You giggled, adjusting yourself to sit more comfortably on his lap, legs stretched out over the sofa.
You cupped his jaw and brushed the pad of your thumb over his stubble.
“You look tired, darling.” You whispered. “Do you wanna talk about it? Or do you just wanna chill out?”
He leant into your touch. “Can we talk later? Just… I want to enjoy this, enjoy you.”
You nodded and kissed him sweetly, before passing him his cup. “Should be perfect to drink.”
While he sipped his drink, you stood up from his lap and grabbed a book and sitting back down beside him - propping your feet up on his lap. Dan closed his eyes and let his head fall onto the back of the sofa. No one truly understood him like you did, no one else would be happy just to sit in the quiet and just enjoy being with him like you. Everyone else wanted jokes and laughs but sometimes he just wanted to wind down.
“I think Gale is warming up to me you know, she didn’t peck my shin like usual.” He hummed, opening one eye to look at you.
“I think she was just surprised to see you… but, seriously, I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too. This is exactly where I want to be right now. No one else, no obligations. Just us.”
You gave him a kind smile, leaning forward to kiss him sweetly. “Just stay as long as you need, my home is your home.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, darling.”
The two of you spend the rest of the day relaxing and after his two rather shitty races, through no fault of his own, it was the perfect escape. And as the sun began to dip behind the earth and the soft thrums of your guitar filled the air - he knew that this was exactly where he needed to be.
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Just a little one, hope you enjoyed it :) I’m not gonna put my taglist on this right now because I’m very tired and wanna sleep!
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alluringjae · 3 years
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au cours de l’été - jjh
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⤑ translation: over the summer
⤑ summary: this is a story of an exhausted painter who needed a breather from the hectic city life. so aside from moving to the countryside, the needed air in your lungs also came in the form of a person. this summer meant for pure relaxation, perhaps your heart may dive into him too.
⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader
⤑ word count: 15.2k (so much for saying that i’ll be writing shorter stories)
⤑ genre: fluff, romance, smut | author!jaehyun, painter!reader, strangers to lovers!au, 50s-60s!au, summer love in france!au
⤑ warnings: me inserting some french phrases because I want to practice (feel free to correct me if I made mistakes, i’ll appreciate them), fictional interpretations of real-life people, explicit language, jaehyun being such a romantic pls im in tears, mentions and scenes of burnout (the worst)
⤑ playlist: everybody loves somebody by dean martin | c’est si bon by eartha kitt | it’s always you by chet baker | les yeux ouverts by emilie-claire barlow | a sunday kind of love by etta james | the most beautiful thing by bruno major | try again by jaehyun and d.ear (duh) | free love (dream edit) by honne | petite fleur by jill barber | plus je t’embrasse by blossom dearie | so this is love by ilene woods and mike douglas
⤑ author’s note: this was an idea that just came to me after pinterest kept recommending me poetic beauty/try again jaehyun, so here we are! i intended to write less than 5k words but sometimes plans don’t go as planned once you really invest in the story yet i’m really happy how this turned out!
the romantic exhilaration in my bones are off the charts because this is jaehyun we’re talking about lol enjoy!
⤑ masterlist
⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism, or hellos!
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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.”
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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.
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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…”
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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.”
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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.”
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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!)
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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?
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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.”
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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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copyright © 2021 by alluringjae.
890 notes · View notes
cherienymphe · 4 years
Text
Dark Fairytale (Peter Parker x Reader)
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➥ { page breaks done by @writeyourmindaway​ }
WARNINGS: NON-CON/DUB-DON, alpha!Peter, innocent!reader, loss of virginity (both m and f), controlling and possessive behavior 
summary: when Peter Parker literally crashes into your life, falling in love with the handsome alpha was inevitable. Thinking he isn’t like the rest, you don’t take heed of the red flags until its too late
~
You had been in the process of taking your garbage out when Peter Parker crashed into your life. Literally. You had just closed the garbage bin and was in the process of walking down your cobblestone path back to your house when something hit you. Hard. Knocking the wind from you.
You crashed to the ground, chin hitting the stones, and it took you a moment to realize that the weight was still on you. You had groaned as the person rolled off of you, their harsh breathing reaching your ears. A dull ache began to take over, and you just knew that it was going to really hurt in the morning. With difficulty, you pushed yourself up, only to pause…for several reasons.
The first being that the scent that struck you was familiar in a way that you didn’t necessarily like. It was a rich and suffocating scent of an alpha, an underlying spicy aroma hitting your nose that made you twitch. At the moment, it struck you as bitter, frustration swirling in the air.
The other reason being his attire.
The blue and red of the suit that hugged his frame was recognizable anywhere. It was torn in a few places, showcasing bruised slivers of skin. Without thinking, he ripped his mask off, face twisted into pain as he exhaled. It was only when he opened his eyes did he realize that he’d landed straight on another person, and he’d just revealed his face to said person.
“Crap!”
He moved to sit up only to hiss in pain, and you reached for him.
“Hey, you just fell from the sky,” you slowly told him, pushing yourself to your knees as you scooted closer. “Don’t move.”
He looked as if he was going to move away from you, but you held him in place. Nervousness pricked at you at being in such close proximity to an unmated alpha with no one else around, but you pushed it away. He was hurt.
“I’m not going to tell anyone who you are. I don’t even know who you are underneath the mask,” you chuckled, trying to easy his worries. “…but you don’t look so good. I have a first aid kit in my house.”
You pointed to the tiny house at the end of the long walkway, and his gaze followed your hand. He sank his teeth into his bottom lip, thinking, the pink skin reddening from an injury. Hesitantly, he nodded, and you helped him throw his arm over your shoulders. He groaned when he got to his feet, and you slowly but surely guided him towards the small building.
“Were you…fighting someone?” you eventually wondered.
“Yeah. A bit of a mission gone wrong,” he said through gritted teeth, brows furrowed.
You sat him down on your couch as soon as you made it inside. His chest heaved as he threw his head back, dark hair matted with dirt and sweat as his eyes fell closed. You ran your own eyes over him, frowning as something tickled inside of your stomach. Shaking your head to yourself, you moved to the kitchen to get the first aid kit.
He was still in the same position when you returned, lithe form stretched out, and you almost thought he’d fallen asleep. When you neared, he stirred, blinking his eyes open as he moved to straighten. You sat beside him, first aid kit in your lap. You could feel his eyes on you, and when you looked up, you found that you were correct.
He looked away as soon as you made eye contact, and you blinked, frowning a bit before returning to the task at hand. He wasn’t beat up too badly, so it took you no time to clean him up, placing a band-aid on a cut on his forehead.
You could feel his eyes on you again as you smoothed it along his skin. You bit your lip, body buzzing under the heat of his gaze. He didn’t look away this time as your eyes met his, and you slowly pulled away.
“There. I’m done,” you quietly told him.
He slowly stood, and you looked up at him as he did so. He flexed, taut muscles moving beneath the suit, and he sighed. He looked down at you, jaw clenched as he sent you a strained smile.
“Thanks,” he eventually said.
“No problem…Spider-man.”
His smile widened, and he stuck his hand out.
“Peter. Peter Parker,” he said, and his face suddenly pinched. “You won’t…you won’t tell anyone that, will you?”
You shook your head as you took his hand, shaking it as well.
“I have no one to tell,” you honestly told him.
You saw his eyes crinkle with curiosity, but he must have swallowed it down, turning to leave. It was late in the evening now, getting dark, and you watched him pull his mask back on before swinging on top of your house. When you stepped outside, he was nowhere to be found.
You thought it odd that you weren’t as starstruck as you thought you’d be if you ever got the chance to meet an Avenger, but you had simply gone inside and made dinner like it was any other night. You tried to push away how drawn you’d felt to him, but your efforts were futile. Peter Parker plagued your mind for weeks. So much so, that when you answered a knock on your door weeks later, you’d thought that maybe you’d imagined the web slinger standing on your step.
In reality, it was more like he was swaying on your step, fighting to stay upright. Like before, he looked bruised and like he’d just left a fight. You barely caught him as he fell forward, and it took all of your strength to help him inside. Like last time, you deposited him on your couch before making your way to the kitchen.
After you had cleaned him up as best as you could –he was in worse shape than the last time–you set the first aid kit down to look at him. His gaze was already on you, and you fought to hold it.
“Why… Why did you come here?” you quietly asked him.
His scent was much calmer now, no lingering bitterness, and the earthy aroma wrapped around you like a blanket. You wanted to bask in it. You shifted at your thoughts, and Peter ran his dark eyes over you at the movement.
“Mr. Stark…,” he quietly began, pausing to catch his breath. “I’m trying to prove to him that I can handle these solo assignments. If I keep showing up to the compound looking like I just came from war, he’ll think it’s too hard for me.”
You blinked at that, slowly nodding as you registered his explanation. You lived in upstate New York, so you figured that the compound must have been near.
“I figured that after the last time…I can trust you,” he continued.
“You can,” you quietly told him, standing to return the kit to the kitchen.
And to escape his intense gaze.
When you closed the cabinet, you turned around to find your living room empty of the masked superhero. You hadn’t even heard him leave. You sighed, and you couldn’t tell if it was from relief…or disappointment. You didn’t have very long to yourself to ponder over that, a heavy knock sounding on your door only days later.
You’d been in the tub when you heard it, and quickly tightening a robe around you, you ran towards the front door. You had known who it was before you even opened it, a small smile on your face as Peter stumbled inside.
Minutes later, you were sitting on the floor with your legs tucked underneath you as you tried your hand at stitches. You’d tried to tell Peter that you’d never done them before, but he didn’t care, clearly desperate. You wondered if he regretted that as you watched him wince for the umpteenth time.
“Ouch,” he gritted out, teeth clenched.
You shot him an apologetic look, a small smile dancing on your lips.
“I thought you had super strength,” you murmured.
“It still hurts,” he quietly replied, watching your fingers work over his hand.
He hissed, and you tutted.
“I’m almost done…”
He heaved a sigh, leg bouncing as he waited for you to finish.
“Why are you alone?”
You blinked at his sudden question, glancing up at him.
“Excuse me?” you asked, not understanding it.
He ran his eyes over you, trailing his gaze to dance along your collarbone, lingering in the open V of your robe. He suddenly glanced away as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have, face flushed. Your skin had still been wet underneath the robe, the cool air making you shiver, but you felt your body heat up under his quick perusal.
“Why do you live alone? You’re an omega, right?”
You paused at that, heart skipping a beat before you continued with the task at hand. You knew that your suppressants weren’t strong, just enough to keep your heats at bay, but you didn’t socialize much. You’d never realized just how weak they were if Peter could sniff you out in no time.
“Shouldn’t you…? I mean…,” he trailed off, swallowing down what you both knew he wanted to say.
You licked your lips, and you felt the heat of his gaze on your face.
“I never knew my parents,” you confessed, voice deafening in the quiet cottage. “I was adopted as a baby by this…old bitty of a woman.”
You chuckled, snipping the thread.
“She was like a mother and a grandmother all rolled into one. This is where we lived…where I grew up,” you fondly told him.
You looked up at him to find him keenly listening, hunched over.
“She died years ago…some months after my 19th birthday. I knew it was coming, but it still hurt.”
“I’m sorry,” Peter whispered.
You shook your head.
“It’s okay. She lived a long life, much longer than I thought she would, so I was grateful to have gotten 19 years with her,” you replied. “She left me the house and everything else she owned. Neither one of us got out much, and I saw no reason to change that, especially since I work from home.”
You shrugged.
“This is where I’ve been ever since, in this quiet little neighborhood.”
Peter snorted, and you pulled your hand away, having been ignorant to the fact that you’d been smoothing your fingers over his skin. Embarrassment flooded you.
“Your closest neighbor is half a mile down the street. You’re tucked away in this corner by yourself,” he complained.
“Your point being?”
He rubbed the back of his head, and you knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.
“It can be…dangerous for someone like you. I mean… What if someone follows you home? Another alpha? One who’s not so nice as me?”
You wanted to be annoyed, but the genuine worry on his handsome features made you crack a smile.
“I’ve taken care of myself for this long, Peter. I think I’ll be fine,” you responded, standing up.
He stood with you, raking his eyes over you. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he opted for thanking you instead, turning to leave. You stood at the door when he turned to face you, dark eyes filled with whatever thoughts he wouldn’t voice. With a shake of his head, he hopped over your house, leaving you once again.
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It became a semi regular thing for Peter Parker to show up at your door in the late evening, battered and needing medical attention. You were starting to grow worried at how often he was depositing himself on your doorstep. You’d told him one day that maybe Tony Stark had a right to be worried.
He’d insisted that he could handle it, convinced that he was getting better.
“For Christ’s sake, I’m an adult now. I wish he’d start treating me like it,” he’d ranted one afternoon while you cleaned a nasty cut on his back. “No more of this probationary period stuff. I shouldn’t have to prove that I can handle missions on my own.”
You threw a sympathetic look to the back of his head, his scent bitter with frustration and anger.
“…maybe he’s just worried, Peter,” you quietly told him, trying to placate the man.
He heaved a sigh at that, back muscles flexing with the action.
“Yeah…I guess…”
You smoothed the bandage over his back, and unable to help yourself, you trailed your fingers over his smooth skin. You felt him tremble, a shudder traveling down his spine. Realizing what you were doing, you snatched your hand away just as he turned around.
The house was quiet as he just stared at you, and you stared back. Your heart felt like it was going a mile a minute, and you bit your lip as he ran his dark eyes over you, reaching out to touch your face. His finger trailed over your jaw, and you pulled away when his thumb grazed your trembling lip, looking away as you stood.
“It’s late,” you simply said. “Mr. Stark will be wondering where you are, and we can’t have him thinking you’re in trouble.”
You could feel his gaze on you, but you avoided his eye. You leaned against the wall beside the door as he made to leave, and you finally glanced up at him as he stood in the doorway. His expression was unreadable, and like so many times before, he looked like he wanted to say something before thinking better of it.
“Goodnight,” he murmured.
“Night,” you whispered back.
You pressed your hand against the door as you closed it, taking a deep breath. Your body still hummed from his presence, and somehow, you just knew that he was still on the other side. Something deep within you was telling you to open the door, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. You only relaxed when your stomach settled…and you knew he was gone.
You didn’t know why he was affecting you so much. It’s not like you hadn’t been around alphas before, because you had. Plenty of times, in fact! Granted, most of your experiences weren’t exactly pleasant, so you did your best to avoid interacting with them if you could help it. But…
There was just something about Peter Parker.
He didn’t seem like most alphas. He was soft spoken, always hanging onto your every word as he listened to whatever you had to say. He didn’t do that thing where he tried to intimidate you, subtly get you to subconsciously submit to him. In fact, you’d say that he went out of his way to shrink in on himself just to make you more comfortable.
Nana had also been an omega, but her mate had died long before you came along. From what you remembered, she seemed happy enough, but there was always a longing in her eyes that never went away. The bond remained until she finally died too. You thought about Peter…about what would happen should the two of you…
You turned to finally make your way back to your room, shaking your head. You felt silly for getting ahead of yourself like this, but you couldn’t help it. You were so drawn to him, unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. But he was a superhero. He would always be in danger. You knew that firsthand, had seen the evidence and the price of his protection yourself.
What if you ended up like nana?
You pushed him out of your thoughts as you settled into bed, determined to let sleep claim you. You told yourself that this wouldn’t go on forever. There would come a day when he’d no longer need your help, and you’d both move on. You tried to ignore how your heart clenched at that as sleep finally claimed you.
You didn’t think that day would come so soon.
The weeks that followed were spent in solitude. Your routine continued as it had before without the interruptions of Peter Parker. You woke up and did some of your online work. You’d watch tv, maybe read a book, and when you needed to, you’d make your way to the grocery store. Before you knew it, 2 months had gone by with no sign of the masked superhero.
You told yourself that you accepted that you’d probably never see him again. That meant that he was doing much better now and didn’t need your help. You should be happy for him. So why couldn’t you find it in yourself to feel happy? There was an ache in your chest that wouldn’t go away. It had even started to keep you up most nights.
It was the middle of the night when Peter returned to you. It was long past a reasonable hour for you to be asleep, moon high in the sky. Your a/c had broken the night before, so your window was cracked, allowing the cool night air to hit you. You had been drifting in and out of consciousness, never fully finding sleep, when you heard something hit your front door. Hard.
Fear and surprise gripped your heart as you sat up. Confusion clouded your mind, but your feet carried you out of your room, nonetheless. You didn’t hear anything else once you made it to the living room, but your stomach tightened. As you got closer to the door, a spicy and heady aroma hit your nose, and you paused for half a second before running to throw it open.
A loud gasp escaped you as Peter practically fell on top of you. He’d been leaning on the door, and as you wrapped your arms around him, you understood why. The back of his suit felt wet, and something told you that it wasn’t water.
“Peter,” you quietly called to him.
He didn’t answer, and even in the darkness you could see that he was struggling to keep his eyes open. His head leaned against yours as you struggled to turn on the light, kicking the door closed. His breathing was quiet but labored. Guiding him down the hall was a task, bumping against the coffee table and knocking over a glass vase in the process, the plant and water inside of it crashing to the floor as it shattered.
He groaned, and your eyes widened when your back hit the wall. He pressed his hands against it, seeming to use all of his strength to hold himself up. Your own hands were still pressed against his back, and he blinked a couple of times, shaking his head from side to side.
“Peter…?”
He took a deep breath.
“I got…distracted,” he breathed.
You blinked at him in confusion, and he continued.
“I…had him,” he quietly said with a frown. “I practically had him, and then… It just hit me that…that I never learned your name.”
You scoffed, disbelief coloring your tone as he cracked a smile.
“Peter, you could’ve died,” you told him.
He chuckled.
“I almost did,” he sighed, starting to slump again.
With a yelp, you caught him, hoisting him up, moving along the wall towards your room.
“My name’s Y/N,” you told him as soon as you got in your doorway.
He pressed you against the doorjamb, and the air left you as his hands found your arms. His nose brushed against yours, lips moving as he repeated it to himself, testing it in his mouth. His scent invaded you, and you swore that you could taste him on your tongue. You swallowed when one of his hands came up to grip your jaw.
“P-Peter, you’re hurt…”
Your words died in the air as his lips met yours, and you tentatively kissed him back. His lips were soft, and the metallic taste of blood touched your tongue from a cut on his lip. He deepened the kiss, pulling you closer, and you could feel yourself growing heated. He took a step back, pulling you with him, and surprise filled you as you realized what was about to happen…what you wanted to happen…
You were even more surprised to realize that…you wanted to submit to him. Your body was practically begging for his dominant touch.
He pulled you towards your bed, and your feet stumbled into his. One of his arms was secured around your waist, holding you to him as he moved his lips against yours. Your fingers twisted into his hair, and he dragged his lips down your chin. You bared your neck to him, and he pressed his face into it, scenting you. Your eyes were focused on the ceiling when you opened them.
“Peter…I’ve… I’ve never…”
You tried to get the words out in between his kisses, but he was making it difficult.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay…”
You helped him peel the suit off, and you were tempted to stop when he groaned in pain, but he kissed you again before you could voice your concerns. His touch was gentle, but firm, clothes falling off of you and floating to the ground like feathers. The cool night air that slipped in through the window did nothing to cool your heated frame.
You were completely bare before him when your back hit your mattress, and you waited for the nervousness and fear to seize you…but it never came. You felt safe beneath Peter, safer than you’d ever felt, and it was a feeling you never wanted to lose. You splayed your hands across his chest as he hovered over you, dark hair brushing his forehead.
His eyes were dark with hunger, determination flittering across his features. He brushed his lips over yours so softly it could hardly be called a kiss. It stole your breath away either way. His bare chest pressed against your own as he settled in between your legs, and you sharply inhaled as he brushed against you.
“I’ll take care of you,” he whispered against your lips.
And he did.
He pushed into you slowly, and your lips parted at the intrusion. You avoided his back as you held onto him, eyes squeezing shut as he bottomed out. You breathed through your nose, and you felt Peter’s lips ghost over your closed lids.
You opened them when he started to move, realizing that you wanted to keep your eyes on him. His brows were pinched, and you wanted to smile at the concentration on his face, but you found yourself biting your tongue instead.
You didn’t know how much time had passed before the dull stinging pain bled into something more. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, and he had his fingers intertwined with your own, pinning them to the bed. Even with the cracked window allowing the cool air in, a thin layer of sweat still coated your frames.
You didn’t know if it was always like this, or if it was just Peter, but your body felt like it was filled with bees. He would kiss you sometimes, telling you that it was okay and that he’s got you, reassuring you. Occasionally, you felt his teeth grazing over the skin of your neck, and you found that there was no fear, bearing your throat to him every time. Should he mark you, you’d welcome it. But he didn’t.
He feverishly pressed his lips to yours as his thrusts sped up, breath mingling together as you gasped into his mouth. One of his hands curled around your waist, fingers digging into the skin while the other tightened its hold on your hand. You could feel your stomach tightening, toes curling as something began to build inside of you. Peter let out a low moan as your climax hit you, clenching around him hard. His hips stuttered before stilling against yours.
You both were out of breath, and you watched as his eyelashes fluttered, struggling to keep his eyes open. The day’s events had finally caught up to him, and it seemed to take everything to keep him from collapsing on top of you.
He rolled off of you, chest heaving.
“I’ve never…done that before…either,” he breathed.
By the time you looked over at him, in shock, he was already asleep. You reached up to brush a dark strand out of his eyes, fingers lingering as they trailed over his face. His arm curled around your waist and, basking in the scent of your alpha, you fell asleep.
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You were alone when you woke up the next morning. Your hand had drifted to the other side of the bed, only to be met with cold sheets. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, looking around with a frown. It didn’t feel like he was gone, but he was nowhere to be seen.
However, when you exited your room, sheet wrapped around you like a blanket, you could both hear and smell something going on in the kitchen. When you entered, you were met with the sight of Peter’s back as he stood in front of the counter.
You frowned at the nasty cut along his shoulder blade and suddenly regretted not tending to him last night. He turned before you even reached him, pressing his lips against yours, surprising you.
“I thought you’d left,” you quietly told him when he pulled away.
“Never,” he said with a small smile. “I wanted to make sure you got some food in you as soon as you woke up.”
He pushed you towards the table, and you sat down just as he placed a plate of pancakes and fruit in front of you.
“Won’t…won’t Tony Stark be worried that you didn’t make it back? He’ll think something went wrong. That you got hurt,” you said, looking up at him.
He sighed, a frown on his face.
“Yeah. He’s been…right to worry. You too. I don’t think I’ll be doing any more solo missions for a while,” he murmured.
You glanced away at that, and Peter placed his hand on your head.
“I won’t be going anywhere though,” he whispered. “Ever.”
Your heart fluttered at that, and you couldn’t keep the smile off of your face. You watched as he stuck a fork in a piece of melon, holding it to your face.
“Eat,” he softly ordered, eyes on you.
You did.
It wasn’t said in so many words, but in that moment, it was clear that you were his.
You didn’t know how it went over with Tony Stark after he didn’t return to the compound that night, but Peter slept over almost every night after that. He’d knock on your door just as the sun was setting, and you’d let him in with a smile. He’d leave the next morning after making sure you ate, and you often wondered what he told the rest of the Avengers. You wondered if he told them about you.
Your heat, the first one you’d had in literal years, had come a week later. It had hit you so suddenly, and after so many years of going without one, it took you a moment to understand what was happening at first. Your skin was drenched in sweat, and you were naked and curled up in a ball on your bed, thighs slick and body shaking when Peter found you.
You had heard him knock on the door, but you hadn’t been able to muster up the energy to shout to him. Your eyelashes fluttered, and you thought to yourself that your heat was returning with a vengeance after being suppressed for so long. You couldn’t even find it in you to be annoyed when you heard him break into your house. Only relief filled you, knowing that you’d finally get exactly what you needed.
You knew that he smelled you the minute he walked through the door. He had been calling your name before he abruptly cut himself off. His footsteps were deafening in the quiet house, and you couldn’t even be bothered to lift your head and look at him when he stepped into your room. You felt his hand on your damp forehead, and you moved closer, weakly reaching for him.
“Oh, princess,” he sighed, peppering kisses over your face.
“Peter,” you whispered, hands gripping his shirt as he joined you on the bed.
“I’m here, now,” he murmured, swiftly peeling off his clothes.
You shuddered when your skin came in contact with his, pulling him closer as you rubbed your face along his neck. The sound that he made deep in his chest pulled a shudder from you, and you mewled against his skin. He turned you around, and your forehead fell against your pillow with ease.
He trailed his hands down your back, pushing you down until your chest pressed against the sheets as he pressed against you. It was almost funny how naturally you molded to the way he moved you.
“Peter,” you whimpered, reaching back.
He pushed into you, your slick walls hugging him as a low moan escaped your lips.
“You’re so needy,” he murmured, almost in awe as he thrust into you.
One of his hands was on your hip, the other pressing into your shoulder as you fluttered around him with every thrust. You had never dealt with your heats properly before, and your body hummed, feeling so right…so satisfied with Peter’s ministrations.
His chest pressed against your back as he leaned over you, lips ghosting over your shoulder and behind your ear. The bed trembled beneath you, and your eyelashes fluttered, eyes rolling to the back of your head with every drag of his cock. He was sating that fire inside of you, and you whimpered, hips collapsing.
His movements didn’t give pause, pinning you between him and the bed. Your toes curled, sweat clinging to your skin as your hands slid along the sheets. Peter laid his hands over yours, intertwining your fingers. His nose ran along the expanse of your neck, and you purred beneath him, heat racing.
“Peter,” you quietly begged.
His knees spread your legs, a choked moan escaping as he thrust into you to the hilt. You felt his lips part, sucking on the skin where your neck and shoulder met, teeth threatening to break the skin. You could feel him swelling inside of you, hand letting go of your own to grip your hair. Your scalp stung a bit at his tight grip, but you welcomed it, moaning.
He pulled your head back, baring your throat. Your legs trembled as your climax started to sneak up on you, but his thrusts and swelling cock weren’t enough. His teeth dragged along your skin, and you reached back to rest your hand on the back of his neck.
“Peter,” you gasped. “…please.”
“You want my teeth in you?” he hummed. “Want to show the world that you’re mine?”
“Yes,” you whined.  
You jumped when Peter’s teeth sank into your skin, but your body relaxed when your climax washed over you like a wave, covering your entire body until you were completely limp beneath him. Peter groaned into your throat, completely locked into you now. Your heart calmed down in your chest, one final shudder hitting you when he let you go.
He laved his tongue over your skin, soothing it, and you hummed. Your head fell back down to the bed, and Peter pressed his lips to your fresh mark. You sighed when he slid his arms underneath you, enveloping you in his hold as he rolled you both onto your sides. He peppered kisses along the side of your face before kissing your mark again.
“You’re being so good for me,” he murmured against your skin.
You could only muster the energy to hum a reply, fatigue descending over you. He was still knotted inside of you, and you leaned back into him. He chuckled, and the vibrations traveled from his chest to your back. Sleep claimed you for the first time of many in the days to come.
You didn’t recall your heats lasting so long, but again, you hadn’t had one in years. So perhaps your memory was off, or maybe it was as you originally thought, and it just returned with a vengeance. When both Peter’s cock and teeth weren’t inside of you, you were sleeping in his arms. On the off chance that you weren’t sleeping, and that was usually because he woke you up, he was feeding you, settling you against his chest as he held food and water to your mouth.
He didn’t leave you for a second, and you wondered what he told the rest of the team.
“I told them that I’m visiting a friend for a few days,” he whispered when you asked him.
Your heat was finally ebbing away, and you were lucid enough to have a conversation with him outside of begging him to fuck you. You didn’t know how to respond to that, and you frowned. Peter must have detected the change in scent in the air because he sat up with you, turning you to face him.
“Hey,” he softly said, hands on your face.
“Are you…ashamed of me?” you asked him before he could continue, and his eyes widened.
“Never,” he said with conviction. “Why would you…?”
“Your team…your friends, the people you live with…they don’t know about me, and you never bring up me going there or-.”
He cut you off with a kiss, moving his lips over yours.
“You’re mine. My omega, and I’m so proud and lucky to call you that…”
He licked his lips, brows furrowing, and you felt like he wanted to say more.
“…but there are so many alphas on the team. One other alpha on the team would be one too many,” he started.
You reached up to run a finger over his lip as he talked, and he lightly bit it, causing you to smile.
“I know it’s silly because you are mine, but…here…it’s just you and me. You’re all mine. Your attention is all mine, and I like it that way,” he murmured, eyes glazing over.
You pressed your lips to his neck.
“I like it that way too.”
You watched as he reached over to your nightstand, grabbing your phone. Confusion filled you as you wondered what he was doing.
“Here…,” he said. “I’m leaving instructions on how to get to the compound. I want you to always be able to find me if you need me.”
You took your phone as he handed it to you, feeling him bury his face in your hair.
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You had never thought that you’d need Peter so soon.
You hardly left your house, but occasionally you did have to leave for groceries. Ever since you and Peter got together, he loved doing it for you, but you had depleted a lot of your food during your heat and hadn’t realized until a month later when it was too late and you realized you had practically nothing to eat.
You had been carrying your groceries to your car when you heard footsteps behind you. It was early in the day, the parking lot empty as most people were at work or still asleep. You didn’t think much of it until they were practically on top of you. When you turned around with a frown, you stumbled back at their close proximity, back bumping into your car.
The man before you was unfamiliar, and you didn’t appreciate the way he ran his eyes over you, nostrils flaring. Your own did the same, and the familiar scent of a beta hit your nose. Goosebumps erupted over your flesh as his eyes met yours again.
“Y/N Y/L/N. That’s you, correct?”
Your frown deepened, a sinking feeling in your gut, and you swallowed. This stranger knew who you were, and you didn’t know how…nor why. Before you could confirm or refute that, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a photo. He held it up, and your eyes widened.
It was you…at home…opening the door for none other than Peter. It was nighttime in the photo, and his mask was off, but with his back to the camera, his face wasn’t visible. Your lips trembled, and you reached for it, but the man snatched it away.
“W-what do you want?”
Instead of answering you, he reached for you, yanking you away from your car. You brought your hand up to push against his nose, surprised when a crunch sound hit your ears, and he stumbled away. Groceries falling to the ground, you hurried to get inside of your car. You locked the doors just as his hand landed on the handle.
You were trembling as you struggled to start the car and almost ran him over as you pressed the gas. In your rearview, you could see him moving to go into what you presumed was his own car. Your hands shook as they clutched the wheel, mind whirling as you fought to make sense of what was going on. How had Peter been followed? How did they even find your name? Where were you going to go?
The stranger caught up to you in no time, and when his car pulled up beside yours, you noticed a second man in his passenger seat. Just when you were going to press the gas all the way down, their car swerved towards your own, and you tensed when your car slid off of the road and into the grass. Their car had stopped up ahead as yours crashed into the ditch.
A gasp escaped you at the impact, forehead hitting the wheel. You paused for a few seconds, blinking before crawling across to the passenger side. When you opened the door, you fell out and into the dense trees. You crawled into the brush, body hidden from view as you collapsed onto your stomach.
You could hear their car approaching, hear them get out, and you felt like you were going to be sick. You didn’t know what would happen if they found you, but you knew that it couldn’t be good if they were looking for Peter. It was clear that they wanted his identity, wanted to know who the masked superhero was. You could hear another car approaching from down the long stretch of road, and you figured that they could to.
It seemed that they didn’t want to draw attention to themselves because you heard them return to their car. You knew they’d be back though. They weren’t stupid. They knew that you had to be near, and you knew that you had to get up. The problem with that was your head was spinning, a searing pain behind your eyes.
You heard them drive away, and when the other car had passed, you hurried to move. Your vision was spinning as you crawled across the road, pushing yourself to your feet to stumble into the trees on the other side. Everything blended together as you tripped over your feet, and you didn’t know how far you walked when you hit the ground.
You were in and out of consciousness for what felt like hours. When your eyes finally remained open, you were relieved to find yourself in the same place you’d stumbled to. The sun overhead told you that hours had indeed passed. You had gone shopping pretty early in the morning, and you’d guess that it was afternoon now. When you reached into your pocket for your phone, you confirmed that it was 1:47 p.m.
Pushing yourself into a sitting position was a struggle, and you groaned as you pulled yourself to your feet. When you called Peter, it went straight to voicemail, and you wondered if he was on a mission or in lecture. You left him a voicemail, stumbling over your words as you pressed your hand to your head, telling him that he was in danger.
Hours passed, and you were still stumbling around upstate New York, outrunning strange men hell bent on taking you. Your phone was clutched in your hand, Peter’s directions detailed and clear. You were getting dizzy again, and when you practically fell out of the thick trees, you had to blink a few times. You were convinced that you were imagining the monstrous building before you.
You shouldn’t have been surprised that a stranger wouldn’t be able to walk on the grounds without alerting the superheroes. Your vision was starting to blur again, but you recognized the woman who flew down to land in front of you, auburn hair flying around her shoulders. You could faintly make out more figures running to where you were.
You would have collapsed again had she not caught you, and you hung onto her.
“I’m…I’m sorry,” you breathed. “…but I didn’t know where else to go.”
Your words slurred together just before sleep claimed you again.
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Your hearing was the first thing to return to you, and you didn’t know where you were, but you could hear hushed voices. They were near. Your brows pinched together when you realized that you were in a bed, and when you finally peeled your eyes open, you realized that you were correct in your guess.
The room was so…white. The walls, the floor, the equipment. Looking over, even the two other beds in the room were bathed in white sheets and pillows. It took a moment for you to realize that you were in some sort of infirmary or…recovery room. You moved to sit up, only to jump when someone was suddenly at your side to help you.
Your eyes widened at the alpha before you, his hands gripping your arms as he helped you straighten. It felt surreal to be staring Captain America in the face, but not as much as you’d think. Maybe it had something to do with the mating mark that was given to you by none other than Spider-Man himself. You weren’t exactly a stranger to superheroes.
“Thank you,” you whispered, pulling away from him.
“How are you feeling?”
You turned to the feminine voice, eyes falling onto red hair and green eyes.
“You have a bit of a concussion. So I’d take it easy if I were you,” she said. “Y/N Y/L/N, right?”
The familiar question reminded you of those men, and you nodded at her.
“Is…is Peter here?”
You saw confusion flit over her beautiful features as she crossed her arms over her chest, and when you looked up at the blond next to you, he sported a similar look.
“Peter?”
It suddenly occurred to you that they might have been taken aback because you knew his true identity. You nodded at him.
“They were looking for him, for Spider-Man. I don’t know how, but…they followed him to my house one night. They know that I know him, and I didn’t know where else to go,” you told him.
Captain America blinked, and you watched the way his eyes fell onto your neck, narrowing as his nostrils flared. He let out a soft chuckle, straightening up as he shook his head.
“A lot of things are starting to make a lot more sense,” he said, more to himself than you. “No, he’s not here, right now.”
“He’s on a mission,” Black Widow added.
She moved to help you out of bed, and you let her. Peter was right. There were quite a few alphas on the team, and despite the fact that you knew they would do nothing more than protect you, you didn’t feel comfortable without Peter next to you.
“…but you can wait for him while we get you something to eat. Is that alright?”
You nodded at her, and she helped you move from the room. The compound was huge, and you couldn’t help but to take the time to admire it while she led you to the lounge room. It was strangely scarce of anyone else, and you wondered if it was done on purpose, not wanting to overwhelm you.
“How long have you and Peter…?”
The question hung in the air as you sat on the couch.
“I’ve known Peter for some months now,” you answered, rubbing your temple with a frown.
“Here.”
You looked up, taking the painkillers and sandwich from Captain America as he handed them to you. He sat on the edge of the table in front of you, face serious.
“You said that someone was after Peter.”
You nodded.
“They found me when I was going to my car and tried to take me. I crashed my car,” you suddenly added, more to yourself as if just remembering.
He asked you to describe the men, and you did with as much detail as possible. When Black Widow asked how you found them, you didn’t know if you should be truthful or not. You wondered if it would get Peter into trouble. As if reading your mind, she reassured you.
“We don’t care how you found us. We’re just glad that you did…”
You licked your lips.
“Peter told me…in case I…needed to find him,” you quietly replied.
She nodded, quickly running her eyes over you.
“When Peter started to smell different, I didn’t dwell too much on it, you know, but now it all makes sense. So you’re who he’s always running off to see…”
You sent her a sheepish smile. You noticed that Captain America had excused himself, and you could hear him on the phone in what you assumed was the kitchen.
“How did you two meet? Sorry if I’m prying, it’s just… Peter’s a lot more secretive than we thought. I’m a little taken aback by you,” she wondered.
“Um…he kind of knocked me down in my driveway one day. Literally. He was hurt from a mission and I fixed him up,” you told her with a shrug.
“…and you kept fixing him up,” she surmised.
You frowned at her, and a small smirk graced her lips.
“Peter came clean that he wasn’t doing as well on his missions as he had led us to believe. I suspect that you had a hand in the deception,” she explained.
Feeling caught, embarrassment flooded you. She simply chuckled and patted your thigh before leaving you alone. You weren’t sure how long you sat on the couch, staring at the tv and nibbling on the sandwich given to you while you waited for Peter to return. In that time, none other than Tony Stark had arrived, the dark-haired man throwing you an unreadable look as Captain America led him past you.
You had a pretty good guess as to what they were going to discuss. Not long after, the woman who’d caught you when you passed out found you and introduced herself as Wanda. She sat with you, keeping you company, and you found that she was easy to talk to. Eventually, you heard some commotion, and you perked up when you heard Peter’s voice.
You could hear another low voice mixed in, and it wasn’t hard to guess that they were arguing. You could feel Wanda’s eyes on you as you scooted to the edge of the couch, neck craning, wondering if you should stay put or not. Their voices rose, and you frowned a bit when you recognized the other voice as that of Tony Stark’s.
“I don’t care,” you heard Peter snap, his harsh tone surprising you. “Where is she?”
The question appeared to be rhetorical because immediately after, you heard his footsteps as he sniffed you out. You stood as soon as he rounded the corner, and in the two steps you took, Peter had taken five, pulling you into his arms.
“I’m okay,” you quietly told him.
He tucked his face into your neck, brushing his nose over your skin and breathing you in. You did the same, wrapping your arms around him.
“Mr. Stark said that some guys tried to kidnap you…because they were looking for me…?”
You nodded, and he tightened his hold just before pulling back to look at you. He went to reach for your face before he paused, glancing over your shoulder. You did the same, your eyes meeting Tony Stark’s, and you were reminded that you weren’t alone.
He took a step back before pulling you along. You passed Tony Stark and Captain America, and the brunette took a step forward.
“Peter-.”
“We’ll talk later, Mr. Stark,” he said over his shoulder.
Peter’s room was on the other side of the compound, and he was quick in taking you there. As soon as he shut the door behind him, his lips were on yours. The kiss was harsh as he gripped your face, unlike him, and he pulled his lips away from yours, forehead resting against your own.
“You must have been terrified,” he murmured.
“I’m alright,” you told him, reassuring him.
You could feel that he was shaking, and there was a deep frown on his face as he ran his eyes over you, hands sliding down your arms.
“I can still…smell them on you,” he said through his teeth. “The captain too…and Nat…”
You had opened your mouth to speak, but he kissed you again, swallowing your words. His hands were everywhere, and you knew what he wanted when he tugged at your shirt. He rubbed his face over you as he peeled your clothes off.
His touch was firm when he finally got you on his bed, teeth nipping at you and fingers pressing into your skin as he pinned your body beneath his own. His suit soon joined your clothes on the floor, and you gasped into his mouth when he filled you with one thrust.
“I could’ve lost you today,” he whispered as he kissed you, pinning your wrists to the bed.
“You didn’t, Peter,” you whispered back, a moan climbing out of your throat. “I’m here.”
“Can’t lose you,” he brokenly mumbled as his hips curved into yours. “I can’t-.”
He cut himself off as he pressed his lips to your neck, kissing and nipping at your mark, causing your eyes to roll into the back of your head. You didn’t know how much later he planned to talk to Tony Stark because it was some time in the early morning when he finally let you go, trapping you in his arms as you fell asleep.
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You never did return to your house. Peter and Wanda cleaned the place out of everything you needed, and you quickly became a constant presence in the compound. You officially met the rest of the team that first morning, an embarrassing ordeal. You and Peter hadn’t exactly been the most quiet, and Sam cracked a joke that Peter didn’t find funny. Bucky did though, and that seemed to make Peter angrier.
In fact, he was irritated a lot lately. It started out little, a look here or a frown there, but the more acquainted you became with the rest of the team, the more quiet he became. You were never completely comfortable around the other alphas when Peter was gone, but they were never anything but nice to you. Especially Bucky. You noticed that he didn’t say much unless he was talking to Steve or Sam, but he did his best to make you feel welcome, to keep you from missing Peter when he was gone.
At least…you thought so.
“He’s doing it on purpose,” Peter grumbled one night. “He knows it bugs me.”
You tutted, wrapping your arms around him from behind as you rested your chin on his shoulder.
“Peter…he’s being nice,” you told him.
“He’s being sneaky,” he argued, voice hard.
You sighed.
“I get lonely when you’re not here, and Wanda is almost always sent with you on your missions. What do you want me to do? Lock myself in your room until you come back?”
“It’s tempting,” he whispered.
“Peter,” you admonished.
He sighed and turned around, taking your hands and playing with your fingers.
“You want me…to be happy, right? Because when I’m happy you’re happy…right?”
“Of course,” you quietly said.
“Having you all to myself makes me happy,” he whispered.
You bit your lip, frowning a bit.
“No one else can look out for you like I can… Unless you disagree?”
You shook your head, almost frantically.
“Of course not.”
He finally lifted his eyes to meet yours, brows furrowed.
“Ever since the incident, I just can’t find it in myself to trust anyone else but me with your wellbeing,” he said, and your heart clenched.
You tried to understand his worry, and so you eventually nodded.
“I’m going to talk to Mr. Stark about cutting back on my missions. At least until we can find you a new place,” he told you, surprising you with this.
Your brows rose.
“Oh! I… Peter, I like being here at the compound with you,” you replied. “Besides, it makes sense. Now you don’t have to travel back and forth just to see me.”
“Yes, but…,” he sighed, bringing your hand to his lips as he looked at you from beneath his lashes. “Don’t you miss when we had a space just for ourselves? I miss having you all to myself.”
His dark eyes were pleading, but there was an iciness there that gave you pause.
“…yeah,” you eventually admitted, and Peter smiled at you.
Tony Stark did not take Peter’s proposal well. You figured that he wouldn’t, but Peter kept trying to reassure him that it was only temporary. Either way, considering that the billionaire couldn’t physically force Peter to do anything, he was indeed around a lot more.
He was now there when you woke up, and his arms were wrapped around you every night as sleep claimed you. You made it a habit of showering together, Peter holding you to him as he lathered soap over you, lips trailing over your face any chance he got. You couldn’t deny that you preened at all of the attention, wondering how long it would last considering that Peter was helping you look for a new place to move. You wouldn’t be able to do this all the time once you did.
At least, you had thought so.
You could hear Peter and Tony arguing as you walked down the hall, nearing his room with a cup of tea in hand. You winced at the older man’s harsh tone, but it was Peter’s venomous one that made you frown.
“Kid, this doesn’t make any bit of sense, and you know it.”
“I’m not just going to leave her unprotected again, Mr. Stark,” Peter spat. “I’m going with her, and that’s that. Nothing has to change.”
“The two of you might as well stay here then. Doesn’t that sound more logical? If it’s privacy you want, hell, I can have an entire separate wing built for the two of you-.”
“I don’t want her here!”
You jumped at his sudden outburst, and Tony sighed.
“Peter, I know you don’t want a repeat of last time, and that’s why the compound is the safest place for her to be. There are more than enough people to protect-.”
“No.”
Peter’s response was clipped, leaving no room for discussion, and you took the lull in conversation as a sign to walk around the corner. Tony’s back was to you, and Peter’s face was pinched with anger, body tight with tension begging to be released. When your eyes met his, all of that seemed to seep out of him as his shoulders relaxed. Tony turned to tersely greet you as you slipped past him.
Peter’s hand found the back of your neck as you went to move past him too, pulling you to him as he glared at Tony. You watched as his jaw clenched, another sigh leaving him as his eyes flickered between the two of you.
“We’ll finish discussing this later, Peter.”
The door closed and locked behind him after his departure, and you looked at Peter with a frown.
“You’re moving with me?”
“I’m not repeating the same mistake as last time,” he told you.
“I think Mr. Stark is right,” you said with a frown. “Just let him build another wing or whatever. No one would dare try anything here.”
“You’re not staying here,” he quietly said, walking away from you.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not going to let you stay here so the unmated alphas in this place can keep sniffing around you,” he sneered, glaring at you.
You reared back at that, eyes wide. You thought that he had gotten over this, this narrative that he seemed to be convinced of.
“Peter, that… You don’t really believe that…do you?” you scoffed.
Peter briefly closed his eyes, letting out a soft sigh as he approached you. His hands found your face, lips brushing your forehead.
“Of course, you don’t see it. You give everyone the benefit of the doubt. You don’t see what I see…”
“Peter, these are your friends. They love you, and they wouldn’t-.”
“There’s a grain of truth in those ‘jokes’ that Sam is always making. You don’t’ see how Bucky looks at you when you’re not paying attention…”
You were floored by his words, having a hard time believing them. He scoffed.
“I even catch the captain slipping sometimes when he thinks no one is looking.”
You weren’t sure you believed that, but you didn’t want to insinuate that Peter was a liar. Regardless, he seemed to believe what he was saying, and so you wrapped your arms around him.
“If that’s true Peter, no one can take me away from you,” you quietly said. “I’m yours, and that’s never going to change.”
You kissed him, but somehow, you felt that your words had no affect on him. He kissed you back, humming against your lips.
“Tell me that again…please,” he demanded with a smile.
“I’m yours,” you repeated as he wrapped his arm around your waist, taking a step back.
He deepened the kiss, grip tightening on you, almost painfully so.
“Mm, now show me.”
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Peter’s behavior remained much the same. His presence a constant throughout your day, but again, you weren’t complaining. He was scenting you every chance he got, and his lips were always on your mark, a content sigh leaving you whenever his chest rumbled. The nights were usually when Peter had his hands on you, body pinning yours to his bed as he claimed you.
However, he had started to wake you up with his face between your legs, sometimes pulling you away to his room during the middle of the day. He always seemed to be hungry for you, and you’d be stupid to find fault in that. Sure, it cut into the time you spent with Wanda, but Peter’s touch soothed you in a way that only your alpha could.
The bruises he left behind didn’t even hurt that much, and the pain left behind from his harsh grip on your hair never lasted long. He was more than happy to let you sleep the day away after exhausting you the night before, periodically bringing food to you. The day everything changed, was the day you were supposed to train with Wanda.
She’d convinced you that you needed to learn to protect yourself better. You both knew that Peter would never allow you to be in a position to do so, but somehow, you’d been able to talk him into it. You didn’t know if he figured it couldn’t hurt, or if he was humoring you. However, both Wanda and Peter had been sent on a last-minute mission. Tony’s franticness had made it apparent that it was important.
You’d been weakly throwing punches at the punching bags when Bucky offered to help. Having been under the impression that no one else was here, you were happy that someone was available to train you. He was a good teacher, and by the end of the session, you actually felt like you’d learned something.
It was later that day, when you’d just come out of the shower, when you heard the commotion. You had run out of Peter’s room to make sure that no one was hurt, and you only increased your pace when you heard Peter’s voice in the fray. The scene that met you in the entranceway made your eyes widen.
Just past the front door, Peter was being held down by one of Tony’s suits, the man himself standing over Peter with a frown on his face. Across from them, Bucky was pinned to the wall by the webbing that had been splayed across his neck. Peter’s eyes found yours when you neared, and he grunted.
“Mr. Stark, I’m fine okay?”
His tone didn’t match his words, and you wanted to argue that he wasn’t fine.
“You just tried to kill Robocop over here, Peter,” Tony argued, making your eyes widen.
He followed Peter’s gaze when he realized that he wasn’t paying attention to him, and with a sigh, let him go. Peter was glaring at Bucky as he stood, and you watched in confusion as he neared you. You heard Tony sigh again, watching as he rubbed his forehead before going to free the super soldier.
“What’s going on?”
He ignored your question, opting instead to grab your hand and pull you along. He was walking so fast that you almost tripped several times in trying to keep up with him. As soon as you made it back to his room, the door was slammed shut, and your eyes were wide as he pressed his hand to the door, your back against it.
“Why does he smell like you?”
His question was quiet, voice steady, but you could see the anger in his eyes.
“Bucky? He helped me in the training room,” you told him, realizing that’s what all of this was about.
He heaved a sigh, pushing away from the door to sit down, head falling into his hands.
“You know that Wanda was supposed to, but she got sent off with you.”
You slowly walked towards him, squatting before him.
“Peter,” you called to him.
“I don’t want you near him,” he whispered, conviction in his voice. “…any of them. The thought drives me crazy.”
You bit your lip, annoyance bubbling up inside of you.
“What am I supposed to do, Peter? Lock myself away? You’re being ridiculous.”
“…and you’re being naïve,” he spat, eyes hard as he looked at you. “Unless you like them sniffing around you?”
“No!”
His eyes darkened at your tone, and he went to say something else when his nostrils flared. He ran his eyes over you, gaze blazing as his jaw clenched.
“You still smell like him,” he sneered.
You heaved a sigh, standing up.
“I’ll take another shower,” you told him.
You could feel his eyes on you as you entered the bathroom, and you pressed your hands to the counter, staring into the mirror. Peter wasn’t like this when it had just been the two of you, and you found yourself missing that. Most of all though, you missed how different you thought he’d been. You knew that things would very likely go back to that once you got your own place again but…
Surely you couldn’t go the rest of your life locked away in your house, interacting with no one but Peter? You’d grown to like the rest of the team, considering them friends. Were you now meant to give up those friendships?
You went to get undressed, and in doing so, you knocked over your toothbrush. It clattered to the floor, and you bent to pick it up. When you stood, a gasp escaped you, the toothbrush pinging against the floor again as you dropped it.
Peter was standing behind you, and you pressed your hand to your chest, attempting to calm your heart. He neared, and his chest brushed against your back as he placed his hands on the counter, caging you in.
“I’m sorry,” he said, pressing his lips to your bare shoulder. “…you just drive me crazy.”
His forehead was pressed to your shoulder now, and you could feel him shaking. You reached back to lay your hand on the back of his head, running your fingers through his hair. He continued before you could speak.
“I keep thinking it’ll be enough. That if I come inside of you enough, they’ll back off…”
You frowned.
“…if I leave as many marks as I can, scent you enough, make sure you’re attached to my side…they’ll stay away…”
He nipped the skin of your back, and your frown deepened.
“Peter…”
“I mean, do I have to fuck you in every room of this compound until they get it?”
Your eyes widened.
“It’s never enough,” he said more to himself. “So what choice do I have to hide you away? Make things go back to the way they were…when it was just you and me…”
You moved to straighten, but he pressed his chest more firmly against your back, making you bend. You pushed back, but one of his hands came up to press in between your shoulders, shoving you down until your cheek was pressed against the counter.
“Peter,” you gasped, reaching back.
“If I have to tire you out so that you can never leave this room until we finally leave, then so be it.”
You tried to push yourself up, but his hold was firm. His hand slid up to press on the back of your neck, and you winced, shaking as you both felt and heard him release himself. You whimpered at the pain that traveled through your neck under his grasp, reaching back again when he yanked you up. Your eyes found his in the mirror, his gaze ravenous.  
“Peter, I have to shower-.”
“What better way to get Bucky’s stench off of you than to replace it with my own? You think if I bathe you in my seed there’ll be any trace of him left?”
He didn’t give you time to answer that before he was forcing your cheek against the counter again. He pushed into you, and your toes brushed the ground, a yelp leaving you. His strokes were quick and forceful, skin slapping against yours. No matter which way you moved, you weren’t able to get away from him.
His hand found your hair while the other pinned a wrist to the counter top, chest pinning you down as he leaned over you. His nose brushed along your ear, lips eventually finding their way to your neck, and you shuddered. He showed attention to your mating mark, and you hated the way your body welcomed the feeling it brought over you.
“Peter,” you protested, lips trembling.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “When I’m done, you won’t even remember what he smells like.”
Your lashes fluttered with every snap of his hips. It was so hard to remember that he’d forced himself inside of you, the comforting scent and feel of your alpha making you want to submit.
“You won’t go near any of them.”
You whimpered, pulsing around him and squirming beneath him as the command washed over you.
“From now on, you won’t leave this room without me,” his harsh tone filled your ears.
You didn’t respond, too busy trying to swallow down the moan threatening to escape. Tears kissed your eyes at his assault, and he kissed your cheek, licking them away.
“You’re my omega. All mine...”
His lips found yours as he thrust into you.
“…and I’m going to keep reminding them.”
~
tags: @harryspet​ @mcudarklibrary​ @darkficreposter​ @xoxabs88xox​ @readermia​ @nickyl316h​ @captainchrisstan​ @sebabestianstan101​ @villanellevi​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @coconutqueen21​ @hurricanerin​ @lokislastlove​
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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years
Text
ANOTHER TITLE
a/n: personally i’ve been waiting for this part to come since the beginning lmao, so here is the proposal finally!! it’s like so fluffy, almost disgustingly, but i just couldn’t help myself
pairing: Sebastian Stan X Reader
word count: 1.8k
This fic is part of the LITTLE ONE series, but can be read as a simple oneshot as well! Find the masterpost of the series HERE!
masterlist
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(gif is not mine)
You’ve been eating like a hormonal teenage boy these past weeks and you know it needs to stop and held under control, but you just can’t help yourself. It’s like your stomach has become a black hole that needs to absorb any and every food that’s home, you’re constantly snacking beside the large portions you eat three times a day, there’s always something you’re craving, the shopping list on the fridge is changing every hour because you think of something else to eat.
Luckily, you haven’t gained that much weight besides the noticeable bump that’s your baby in your belly, seems like your little girl does need all the food and she uses it instead of letting it all get stuck on other parts of your body, so you’re fine for just now.
Sitting on the couch, watching some kind of soap opera, you’re snacking on an entire jar of Nutella this time, shamelessly stuffing your mouth with the sweet, thick stuff, pretty sure that nothing will be left of it by the end of the day. Sebastian is away again for his second filming that was scheduled even before you found out you were pregnant and he messed around with it a little, shortening it once again and you just visited him last weekend. Now that you are pushing the end of your second trimester, your bump is quite evident, not something you can hide easily, so when you showed up on set with your boyfriend, you didn’t even try to cover it up, knowing well someone would spot it sooner or later. However everyone on the team has been so respectful, keeping the news to themselves, because no headlines have been made about your pregnancy just yet, keeping the secret even longer. To be honest, you’re surprised it hasn’t been discovered sooner, you thoughr someone would catch you out and about and see right through your baggy clothes and sell the news to the tabloids, but now you are in the sixth month and no one knows a thing.
Your phone chimes next to you, a text from Seb and you hum to yourself happily, putting the jar aside to grab the phone and see what he wrote.
“How are my two favorite girls doing? Miss you a lot!”
He even attached a silly selfie of himself in hair and makeup, he looks adorable with the clips in his hair and some kind of patches under his eyes. Like a real beauty guru.
Grabbing the Nutella, you place it on top of your bump as you move the phone to a lower angle and take a selfie that makes your bump look even bigger, the jar on top and you grinning widely at the camera as you snap a picture and send it to him with your reply.
“Enjoying our third snack of the day at 11 am! Miss you too, can’t wait to see you next week!”
He reads the message right away, his reply coming just seconds later.
“Look at that bump! You look gorgeous, baby! Can’t wait to see you too, have fun with your sister today, love you lots Xx”
Since he has left you’ve been trying to keep yourself busy so you don’t miss him too much and you’re also using these weeks to spend as much time with your friends and family as possible, knowing well once the baby arrives you won’t be going out that much for a while, nestled up in your home, learning the ropes of being a mother. Today you are meeting up with your sister, she is taking you out to this alleged new, quite fancy restaurant you haven’t heard about before. She claimed that it’s really exclusive, so you don’t have to worry about being photographed or bothered, but she also told you to glam yourself up for the occasion. It’s gonna be some nice sister time, something you haven’t been able to do in a long time.
You take the assignment seriously, doing your hair and makeup the best you can and you decide to put on a flowy maxi dress with a soft, knitted cardigan, very much going for a kind of cottage core vibe. Leaving just in time you text your sister that you’re on your way, putting the address into the GPS and heading out of town, because the place is near the beach. She texts you back that she’ll meet you there and so your short little road trip begins. Sitting in the car you’re listening to one of the many playlists Sebastian has made for you and the baby, he likes to play them at home, humming the songs under his breath, hoping to start educating your little girl in the field of music as early as possible. You have to admit he has a good taste, so you don’t mind it at all.
As you follow the instructions of the GPS you find the place that’s supposed to be your destination, but it doesn’t seem like a restaurant at all, more like a mansion of some kind, a very expensive looking if you are being honest. There are no other cars, no sign of other people so as you park at the front you call your sister.
“Hey, I’m right outside, but I have a feeling I’m at the wrong place? It doesn’t look like a restaurant.”
“Oh, don’t worry! You’re at the right place! I’m a little late, but I’ll be there soon, just go inside, they are expecting us!” she assures you, but you’re still not convinced.
Ending the call you approach the entrance and for your surprise the heavy doors open before you could even knock or find the bell. A man in a tuxedo appears in front of you, smiling warmly at you.
“Miss Y/L/N?”
“Uh, yeah,” you nod, a little shy and confused.
“Please, follow me,” prompts as you walk inside and the two of you start crossing the grandiose hall of the building.
At this point you are sure it’s not a restaurant, but you have no idea why your sister wanted you to come here. You want to ask the man if you’re even at the right place, but he called you by your name so he was expecting you, this has to be the place where you’re supposed to be. More and more questions pile up in your head as you follow him out to the backyard, a gigantic, flower-filled garden that’s straight out of a fairytale, a path leading down to the beach where there’s a dreamy little pergola with even more flowers and fairy lights and as your eyes fall on the figure standing in the middle of the pergola, you immediately gasp.
Because surrounded with all the flowers and lights, there is Sebastian standing in an elegant suit, smiling widely at you as the man next to you helps you down the stairs before you start walking down the path to him.
Tears are flooding your eyes, because you already know what it is, but you can’t believe it’s really happening. He was so sneaky, he got home from filming earlier and even made your sister play along to surprise you, he is such a romantic soul, no one can change your mind about that!
“You’re not in Atlanta!” you tell him when he is finally close enough to hear you. He chuckles sweetly, taking a few steps forward to meet you sooner, his hands finding your waist as you cup his face in your hands, pulling him down to kiss you right away.
“No, I’m not, baby,” he smirks, his hands sliding to your belly, gently stroking the sides as you wipe your tears away, but there’s no use, because the next moment, he steps back a little, just enough so that he can get down on one knee and you’re crying again when you see him pull out a little velvety box from his pocket.
You were expecting it. You knew he would propose before the baby arrives, but you just didn’t know when and how, but he surely outdone himself with his little surprise.
“My Love, Y/N,” he starts after a deep breath, his hands finding yours and you can feel the shaking, but you’re not sure if it’s coming from yours or his. Probably both. “I’ve spent the best years of my life with you and I haven’t been the same man since the day I met you, but in the best way possible. You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met and I’m so lucky that you did not only choose to be with me, but you are now carrying our baby under your heart as well, out little one who is equal parts of you and me, though you’re doing ninety percent of the job here,” he adds with a chuckle, making you laugh through your tears. “I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you the moment you were so badass on your first date, kissing me when I didn’t have the balls to do the first step, but I’m glad you did. I fell in love with you right then and there and the same thing has been happening every day, over and over again since then. I know we went a little out of order with everything we had planned,” he smirks, glancing down at your bump before his blue eyes find yours again, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so I have a question for you.”
He pops the lid of the box open, a gorgeous, brilliant diamond ring coming to your vision, sparkling in the warm afternoon Sun so perfectly, it takes your breath away.
“Y/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” he asks, clearly nervous, even though there’s no doubt about your answer, you’ve told him plenty of times before that you want to marry him, but still, it’s a huge moment in both your lives.
“Yes, yes, yes!” you nod eagerly as you both start laughing in relief, his shaky fingers tagging the ring out of the box and sliding it to your finger gently, before he brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the ring.
Then he finally stands up and you basically throw yourself into his arms, kissing him like your life depends on it as he kisses you back with just as much force.
“I love you and I can’t wait to call you my wife,” he sighs pleased against your lips.
“Mm, another title in the line? Girlfriend, baby mama, fiancé and then wife,” you giggle giddily.
“You missed one,” he cocks an eyebrow at you slyly.
“Which one?”
“Love of my life.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!
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tinyhistory · 4 years
Note
Hey! Love your stories so much I just had to ask! Do you have any favorite drarry authors/stories? I sometimes compare the quality of other stories to ROA (oops!) because ROA is just that good. My personal favorites are ROA (of course!), the Foundations Series (saras_girl), the ordeal of being known (louisfake), denouement (the_never_was), Good to Me (And I'd Be So Good to You) (AWickedMemory), and To Hurt and Heal (cassisluna). Have you read these? Have a wonderful day! :)
Thank you, so glad you’ve enjoyed my stories! And thank you for so patiently waiting for a reply. I haven’t been online much in the past couple of weeks. Unfortunately I haven’t read any of your recs, but I’m always happy to add another fic to my to-read list.
I did a rec post a few months ago, but I’ll post an updated version now. The Skyhawke Archives appear to be down, which is crushing news. I’ve had to update a lot of the links.
So here are my favourite Drarry fanfics:
And We Are At Our Apogee (PG-13) by angelgazing
Summary: Draco wanted revenge, but it didn't work out that way.
My notes: Californian beaches, supermarkets, road trips, and a bittersweet ending.
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A Reckless State of Mind (T) by Lomonaaeren
Summary: Draco is a Psyche-Diver, and his newest patient is Auror Potter, who’s been a pathological liar for over a year—and has just tried to violently end his own life.
Notes: The plot alone guarantees inclusion on this list. Probably the most creative fic I’ve ever read, and the twists and turns will keep you guessing.
-
Berlin, In the Year of Our Lord (PG) by Are
Summary: Harry is a green-tea addict. Draco stalks him.
Notes: Probably my all-time favourite fic, along with Blue Vase. It’s sparse and minimal and I love that writing style.
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Blue Vase (M) by ivyblossom
Summary: Let’s pretend.
Notes: Draco finds an amnesiac Harry and befriends him, pretending they were once lovers. It’s pensive, short, and bittersweet.
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The Boy Who Only Lived Twice (E) by lettered
Summary: Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks.
Notes: Action-heavy fics are damn hard to write, but lettered nails it. The action scenes are breakneck speed, the conversations are threaded with double meaning, and even the silences are tense.
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Draco in Darkness (T) by Plumeria47.
Summary: Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight.
Notes: This is one of the first fics I ever read (when it was over on FF in 2003) so it’s probably here just for nostalgia points alone. I read it when I was a kid and just thought it was a lovely golden fairytale, the best romance I’d ever read in my (very short, thus far) life. I love reading it again, even years later as an adult when I can see the tarnish on it; the things my childhood eyes didn’t notice. I don’t care. It’s my soft and fuzzy comfort fic.
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The Flesh is Frail (NC-17) by wildestranger
Summary: None
Notes: Draco has injuries from curses and spells, and Harry keeps him company. Draco is angry; Harry is stubborn. They argue their way into a grudging relationship. It’s a short read and well worth your ten minutes.
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Good-bye to Yesterday (NC-17) by furiosity
Summary: Draco felt ready to face even a million years in Azkaban as long as it meant that at the end of it all, he would make Potter pay.
Notes: It’s not a dark fic, but it certainly dips in and out of the shadows. If you like your romance to be sharp as a razor and bitter as black coffee, give it a read.
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Hymn to Color (PG) by Lomonaaeren
Summary: Months after Draco cast a curse that took Harry’s eyesight, Harry is still trying to come to terms with it. Draco still wanted forgiveness, which was probably the problem.
Notes: Probably my very inadequate idea of “fluff”. It’s a quiet, introspective fic. Draco and Harry are well-written.
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Kings among runaways (PG) by enderxenocide.
Summary: Later, the toast will be slightly overcooked, Draco will burn the eggs, and there will be another fist fight in-between the living room and the front door, but they’ll eat breakfast with second-hand plates and Draco’s great-grandmother’s silverware.
Notes: Dreamy descriptions, abstract scenes, and the characters are lovingly delineated. Beautiful writing.
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On Broken Glass (PG-13) by coffeejunkii
Summary: After the final battle, Draco is holding the shards that are left of his and Harry’s life.
Notes: Established relationship. Harry’s forgetful and seems to suffer both short-term and long-term memory loss; Draco stays by his side through six years of post-war amnesia. Very short, just a tiny ficlet. There’s sequels (in bite-size pieces) but I prefer to read the first ficlet and leave it there.
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Paper Dolls (M) by cupiscent
Summary: In the final year of the War, Draco gets a letter, makes a choice and pays the price.
Notes: Short, succinct, and packs a punch. No character deaths, in case the summary has you feeling nervous.
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Portrait (PG-13) by Silent Blast
Summary: None.
Notes: Dorian Grey, but Drarry. Of course it’s going to be good.
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Shattered (NC-17) by femmequixotic
Summary: One damned accident involving one too-lucky curse, and suddenly you'd think he was five again, with their Harry, be carefuls and their quick Levitating charms ready the instant the potion gives way and his rebelling hands lose hold of whatever's in their grasp.
Notes: Draco’s an artist. Harry’s intrigued by his sculptures and paintings.
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Snatch (PG-13) by didntyoupotter
Summary: Harry is comatose, Hermione and Ron aren’t much help, and Draco isn’t sure about anything anymore.
Notes: The opening scene fools you into thinking this will be a light read with a streak of good humour. Don’t fall for it. By the third act, you’ll be hanging onto every word and feeling a lot of emotions. Also, back in the day, this was one of the Draco/Harry fics. Everyone knew of it. Pay your respects to your fandom history and read this beloved classic.
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The Stages of Acceptance (T) by Lomonaaeren.
Summary: Harry, already happily married to Ginny, receives the news that he's Draco's mate. Law and custom don't give him the option of ignoring the news. The stages of his reaction, one by one.
Notes: This is not a romance, and I love that the author just casually chucks all the Veela tropes in the bin and says “nope”. In Lomonaaeren’s own words, this fic is more practical than romantic. Harry is unfamiliar with the Veela concepts and hates the very idea of being “shackled” to someone; he rejects Draco at once. Draco is miserable and lonely. They do eventually come to understand each other better, but it’s a huge struggle with lots of setbacks. The general air of pessimism and misery does make the small glimpses of compassion and empathy feel so well-earned. I love a fic that rations out its happiness.
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The Stately Homes of Wiltshire (E) by waspabi
Summary: Malfoy Manor has mould, dry rot and an infestation of unusually historical poltergeists. Harry Potter is on the case.
Notes: This one needs no introduction. The writing is polished, the characterisation perfect, and the dialogue is fun. I love the humour woven throughout it.
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Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain (E) by faithwood.
Summary: It always rains for Draco Malfoy. Metaphorically. And literally. Ever since he had accidentally Conjured a cloud. A cloud that's ever so cross.
Notes: Another one that most of us know. It’s a lighthearted and fun read.
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Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow (M) by novembersnow
Summary: In the war-torn years after Hogwarts, one man has no knowledge of his yesterdays.
Notes: Another classic back in the feverish heyday of the Harry Potter fandom, when books were still being released and everyone had worked themselves up into a shipping frenzy. And no wonder this fic was an instant hit. Draco has lost all his memories and Harry’s investigating as an Auror, but the longer you read, the more you start questioning everything. Good twists and turns that lead to a tender ending.
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Turn by Saras_Girl
Summary: One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.
Notes: An inevitable inclusion on any favourites list. I think my favourite thing about it is the characterisation. Everyone is so well-rounded; the characters are brought to life and feel like old friends. All their habits, styles, mannerisms, even the way they walk or talk. While I love everyone in this fic, I have to admit that Blaise is just amazing. Of all the thousands of Blaises imagined by fanfic writers, I love this one the best. “Old bean” indeed.
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Under the Ivy (PG-13) by coffeejunkii
Summary: It is impressive how much you can learn about someone by simply sharing a few rooms. They don’t spend time together, not really, but Harry still knows that Malfoy prefers raspberry jam over strawberry, that he hums along to the Wireless when he thinks no one is around, and that his leg is bothering him more than usual when the temperatures drop below freezing.
Notes: Another old, old favourite of mine. It’s like snuggling into a soft blanket. Remus owns a cottage and Harry moves in after the war. Later, Remus lets a room to Draco, who is an outcast after the war and has limited housing options. Harry isn’t happy at first with the new lodger, but he eventually warms up to Draco. A slow and gentle romance.
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Vale Sanare (M) by rurounihime
Summary: Draco’s world gains a new component, just when he thought he’d sorted everything out.
Notes: London nightclubs, one-night-stands, loud music and lonely nights. Draco has seizures due to a curse from the war, and the seizures have led to a fear of intimacy. Short and sweet.
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The Way Down (T) by lettered
Summary: Malfoy’s all, “Come out of there,” the way you say to a cat who is badly behaved. And Harry’s all like, “No, what, I’m a hermit! And I have a chest-monster! And I am crazy magically powerful!” and Malfoy’s all, “We all have problems, bub.” (thoughtfully) “You are crazy though. I’ll give you that.”
Notes: I just adore this fic. The fic starts well-grounded, giving you a solid backstory and matter-of-fact context, but as it goes on, it slowly unravels into dreamy scenes, lush settings, and repeated motifs. It’s just such a beautiful story.
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When Love beckons to you, follow him (PG-13) by megyal
Summary: Draco wakes up, lost, somewhere in a forest. He has no idea where he is or how he got there. As he is blundering around trying to find his way home, he hears Harry's voice in his head, telling him what to do.
Notes: I generally like my fics to be bittersweet or with a bit of heartache — but this fic is just a little cloud of softness. If you need something light and lovely without being syrupy-sweet, this is a good choice!
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The World of the Living (M) by fourth_rose
Summary: A traumatised war hero and a convicted criminal under the roof of an eccentric journalist make for a rather odd ensemble, but Luna has never had a problem with oddities as long as they make sense.
Notes: The story is told from Luna’s perspective, which gives everything a lovely dreamy quality. She takes in a couple of strays after the war — first Harry, who is avoiding his other friends and has quit his Auror job — and then she offers a room to Draco right after his trial. Draco is rude, angry, and ungrateful; Harry is churlish, withdrawn, and moody. Luna doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, and over the course of the next few months, her house guests slowly warm up to each other.
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Voices From the Fog (E) by noeon
Summary: After years of running away, Harry crosses paths with an all-too familiar face and follows him to Amsterdam.
Notes: Harry drifts across Europe, trying to forget the war. He ends up in a woodworking shop in Amsterdam, alongside a moody Draco. Atmospheric settings and solid characterisation.
695 notes · View notes
sumsebien · 4 years
Text
Your Highness pt.5// Prince Friedrich
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series masterlist
summary: Y/N and Friedrich are still very much in the fairytale stage of their engagement. Of course, that is before the Queen gives her verdict on this match.
warnings: none
a/n: final part of your highness. the next part is “i’ll be in ruins for you” and it’s already up so check that out. oh and here is the duclaux piece i've been writing about. okayyy i’m too excited i am posting this right now :))))
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When you and Anthony told Lord Wilson of your decision, he was happy for you and even invited you to visit his cottage should you ever find yoursef in Scotland. That alleviated parts of the guilt you felt for having strung him along. You wished him all the happiness and fortune before he bid you goodbye and left for his home. After that, you and the Prince had your last dance of the night, both of you trying to keep your giddiness to an absolute minimum as you spun around the room in each other’s arms.
It was utter bliss.
You hadn’t announced the news to the world just yet. So far, the only people who knew of your engagement were your family and Friedrich. And you intended to keep it that way until absolutely necessary.
Everyone was happy. Mama and Daphne were on board the moment they learned that you would remain close, most of the time, for them to visit. Benedict was just glad you had found your match and that you were generous enough to lend him that oil set. Colin was slightly sad that you’d not be living in a splendid castle in Prussia and allow him a tour whenever he made a stop on one of his continental tours. Little Hyacinth was most excited of all, always wondering what you were going to do the moment you became a Princess. Gregory usually answered before you could, resulting in a chase around the house.
As for you, you found yourself singing alone as you sketched in your notebook all the things that reminded you of Friedrich. And it had only been the morning after the engagement. You could not wait for noon to arrive so that you may see him again for the private tour of Somerset.
“Someone’s happy,” Benedict remarked, falling against the empty seat next to you.
“She has been singing all morning!” Eloise said, looking up from her book.
You smiled, ignoring them and went on with your humming.
“Miss Bridgerton?” Humbolt appeared at the entrance to the drawing room. “From Prince Friedrich, my Lady.”
“Yes?” You stood, leaving your notebook behind on the couch.
From behind him, Humbolt picked up a beautiful arrangement of flowers, almost as tall as he was. You hadn’t even fully registered the impressive stature of it yet and Mama was already touching the flowers and sniffing them.
“Darling, this must be very expensive,” she said, pointing at the two-toned roses in white and pink, along with the vibrant pops of blue from the cornflowers. The bouquet was finished with gardenias, adding a wonderful aroma to the room almost immediately.
“But why cornflowers and roses?” Eloise asked and all of you turned to Mama for an answer.
“Roses are the national flower of England as cornflowers are to Prussia.”
You felt an overwhelming sense of warmth just looking at him like so. You decided to sit down on the bench behind you and began to sketch him, “after that day, I went to the library and did my reasearch. Antoine Jean Duclaux, at the time he painted this, was only a student accompanying a more famous artist. While his teacher painted a Queen playing music, Duclaux made a portrait of her from the back. Perhaps so grief-stricken by the recent loss of her dear friend that she could not show her face.” The graphite version of Friedrich was coming to life and you had all the intentions of repainting it onto a canvas. You tried to capture his gentleness with the way his fingers curled ever so gently as well as his strength held mainly in his shoulders. The Friedrich before you had caught onto what you were doing by now. “You’re supposed to draw something that inspires you! That’s the only reason why we are here, my dear!” “I know! And I am doing just that!” He had no objections to remaining still and allowing you to complete your sketch. It didn’t take as long as you made him believe it would. The last five minutes you spent admiring him but he did not have to know that. After you were done, your family arrived to the Duclaux piece. Friedrich joined Hyacinth and Gregory and messed about in the room while you stood next to Benedict. “I don’t have favorites but if I did, you would be my favorite sister, you know that?” Benedict whispered to you when you came to stand by his side. “Do you love me? Or do you love him?” You motioned towards Friedrich who was now helping Hyacinth with her revenge. “Both of you I adore. For you have such fine taste in arts and in people,” he smiled, swinging his arm around your shoulder. You chuckled, about to tease him further when the your guide stopped talking. Through the door came a guard who cleared his voice, looking to Friedrich, “your Royal Highness, the Queen has requested your presence at once.” Before he turned to you, “And yours, Miss Bridgerton.” Dear readers, This Author believes she has uncovered a royal engagement made in secret. It is not hard to guess who the two lovebirds might be in this town. This morning a large bouquet of flowers was sent to the Bridgerton House. Large enough to mean more than just courting. Should the Prince have found himself a Princess so soon? And in someone other than the Diamond of the Season, as well. How very scandalous!
You remembered the nerves you felt waiting behind the tall white ornate doors with Mama and Daphne. You had tried your best not to mess up and in doing so, you paid no mind to your footing which resulted in you almost falling to the ground in front of her Majesty. It wasn’t as much of a disaster as Miss Featherington who fainted at her feet but it was enough to make a terrible and no doubt, lasting impression on her.
You just didn’t expect yourself to be here again. Behind those white doors, engaged to her nephew, you were going to go in and explain yourself to her the reason why you two had hid the engagement from her and have her found out through reading Whistledown. No amount of sophistication and elegance could save you now.
Before you were due inside, you tugged at Friedrich’s hand. He, for one, was not nervous at all, still smiling. The crinkles by his eyes and the dimples by his cheeks offered you a moment of peace. “And what would your mother say? When the Queen tells her that we hid an engagement from her?” you asked quietly. At this point, anything that could delay the possibility of losing Friedrich was good enough.
“She is in Prussia and should not be here until I ask her to. When she does, she will love you. And,” he gave your hand a final kiss, “we did not hide anything. I would never hide my love for you. Not from the Queen, not from anyone.”
You nodded before turning to Anthony who gave you a small smile. “It’s going to be alright, sister.” But you could tell he was nervous too from the ways he kept fidgeting with his fingers behind his back.
Echoing from inside the throne room were your names and suddenly the doors swung open, revealing the longest walk you’d ever taken leading up to the throne. The Queen sat leaning back, her watchful eyes burning into you three, but especially you. Beside her was an army of lady’s maids in extravagant gowns, Pomeranians in their arms. You kept your gaze low and made sure that you did not trip and that your curtsy was perfect.
So far, everything went swimmingly. Up until she opened her mouth. “Care to explain what this is, Friedrich?” She snapped her fingers and one of the servants brought forth a copy of Whistledown on a tray.
Friedrich held up his hand to stop the servant from moving any further. “Lady Whistledown was correct to assume we were engaged.”
She laughed, “You are engaged? To her?”
“I asked Miss Bridgerton to marry me last night and she has accepted. We were going to tell you very soon.”
“You proposed last night?” The Queen sat up in her seat, about to storm forward but stopped herself and slumped back, throwing a hand over her forehead, “do my opinions mean so little to you?”
Anyone in their right mind would be scared out of their wits by now. You were sure Friedrich was the only one you had ever met who wasn’t terrified of the Queen. You glanced to him briefly. He kept his gaze steady on her, still calm and collected. “I love her very much. As she loves me. She may not be what you are looking for in a wife for me but she is what I am looking for. I hope we may have your blessing.”
The Queen did not seem like she was listening or like she cared at all. You knew this was headed. Your hand brushed his, knowing the inevitable was on the horizon. He didn’t look at you, his eyes burning into the Queen.
“No. And you,” she looked to you and Anthony. Contempt in her gaze and venom in her words, “you shall leave.”
taglist: @awesomebooklover17 @oopsiedoopsie23 @milkbaer @vampirestookmydoubts @5hundreddaysofsummer ❤️
let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the replies or through messages. love you.
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cheegu3 · 3 years
Text
~ Yandere Jaemin - The jester ~
[hi babies, this is one part of my nct fairytale series this one based on Alice in wonderland with jaemin <3, it had influence from both the original book and the book by marissa meyer centred in the universe + a lil of my own stuff]
I love alice in wonderland and jaemin so I’m so sorry how long this is lmao also yes I did write all of this on the same day ;-;
wc: 3.6k
summary : you live in wonderland, and everything is normal until a stranger shows up - a jester who says he’s looking for you, he seems innocent and sweet but is he really?
TW / trigger warning: yandere themes, mentions of - violence, murder, swearing, blood/gore, 18+ (suggestive), etc
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The yearly mock festival was coming to an end. Humans and creatures alike were slowly making their way to the stairs and to the comfort of their homes. A stranger was also making their way over but not to his home, to the crowd. He slipped through it unnoticed and stopped, bowing in front of the queen.
She looked at him in curiosity but also in fascination. He was very much used to this, having people stare at his beauty and the way he presented himself - elegant and cocky. 
‘‘ My majesty. I come to seek refuge in your town ‘‘ the stranger said.
The queen raised her eyebrow at him and waved at the deck of cards close by, almost stumbling over their own feet in fear of displeasing the queen. 
‘‘ Show this gorgeous stranger that empty house ‘‘ the queen demanded to the cards in a shrill voice.
‘‘ Yes ma’am. Come this way! ‘‘ they answered in union.
The stranger followed them in silence but kept his distance. They went far and near, up and down the crossroads and curvy paths until they reached a small cottage. It was far from the other houses and the village but he liked it immediately.
‘‘ Here we are sir! ‘‘ the cards exclaimed in union again and turned like robots ready to go back the way they came and serve the queen, it was all they knew after all.
‘‘ Excuse me ‘‘ the stranger had had one thing and one thing only on his mind throughout the whole trip there.
The reason he was here in the first place
You
‘‘ Do you happen to know where...y/n is? ‘‘
The deck of cards looked baffled, one of them even chuckled.
‘‘ y/n? Why would you want to see her sir, she’s so very eh- ‘‘ one said
‘‘ -mad ‘‘ another filled in.
‘‘ Who are you anyway? ‘‘ said another
‘‘ Jaemin, I’m a jester from far far away ‘‘ he said with clenched teeth, growing impatient at the lack of answer he was getting.
‘‘ Why would you like to see her? ‘‘ said one
‘‘ She’s not special ‘‘ said yet another
‘‘ I have to ‘‘ he said firmly and was now clenching his fist.
‘‘ She’s not far from here sir. She lives in the cottage opposite this forest ‘‘ said one card with cloves on his front.
‘‘ Thank you ‘‘ Jaemin exclaimed in relief and watched as the deck of cards turned and walked down the path.
On the outside it looked like an old cottage like any other, with broken windows and an overgrown garden. The jester wasn’t surprised, they must’ve given him the most ugly and worn out house since he was still a stranger but with a few snaps of his fingers, the inside would look a lot better than the outside.
As he had finished snapping his fingers three times he saw the familiar white cloud in the window but before he walked in he had to check around the area. He thought he heard the rustling of leaves and twigs being broken.
Looking to his right, he saw in the distance how a girl was walking towards him. Instinctively his heart started to beat faster because what if it was you? The girl was wearing a dress which was blue and she had a white apron tightly wrapped around her which was full of flour. In her right hand she was holding a basket filled with something and her hair shone bright in the sunlight that was peeking through the thick trees above.
// YOUR POV //
You were just about to walk past your favourite abandoned cabin when you noticed, it was no longer abandoned. A handsome young man, about the same age as yourself was standing outside it. You being all alone though, this far out from other people made you scared so you kept your head down right when you passed by him.
‘‘ Hey! ‘‘ you sighed in disappointment, all too often creepy men or creatures would try to stop you and flirt which made you very uncomfortable.
You tried to put on a fake smile before you turned to face him.
‘‘ Hi! ‘‘
‘‘ You’re y/n ‘‘ he stated.
You probably looked very confused to the stranger. How did he know your name? In this wide land, you were a nobody and this random man you just stumbled upon seems to know who you are - by the look of his curious brown eyes studying you - maybe he even knew everything about you.
‘‘ Yes..sir. Can I help you? ‘‘ you asked hesitantly and wanted to punch yourself for sounding so small and helpless.
The boy took some time to answer, suddenly looking a bit nervous the way he fumbled with his hands.
‘‘ Oh, I just. I’m your new neighbour, Jaemin. The cards said I might meet a young woman here who lived close by ‘‘ 
Shit, you were really too paranoid sometimes, this was just a harmless boy who had moved in right next to you.  
‘‘ Oh! Yes of course ‘‘ you smiled at him with more genuine warmth now           
 ‘‘ Welcome to the neighbourhood then I suppose ‘‘
They boy nodded and chuckled. He was very attractive, and you were pretty sure he knew it. Tall, dark and handsome with puppy like brown eyes and fluffy hair. He had a defined nose and rosy lips that matched his smooth and beautiful skin. But the most attractive thing about him, to you, was the way he carried himself. 
That smile could just about make any girl fall for him, maybe even worship him. As he stood there looking at you become entranced with his beauty you began to wonder if he was using magic on you so you put your guard up again slightly.
‘‘ Thank you. I hope to see you around, where do you work? ‘‘ he asked and you almost bit your lip at the look he was giving you, it was very intense and his smile yet again so charming.
‘‘ Oh! ‘‘ you exclaimed suddenly, you had forgotten to answer and had just stared at him getting completely lost. You saw him smirking at this.
‘‘ I-I work at the bakery in town, hence- ‘‘ you gestured to your flour dusted apron and dress with a sad smile.
He laughed heartily but assured you,
‘‘ You look fine, trust me ‘‘
You smiled shyly in response. It felt like he was kind of flirting, he was giving you that look again that both turned you on and made you creeped out, it said
I know everything about you 
Nevertheless if that was the case, you felt very much intrigued with this new stranger and you didn’t want him to be a stranger for long.
‘‘ I suppose I’ll see you around then ‘‘ you said suddenly when the tension had built up even more and you started remembering all the responsibilities you had at your work.
It felt like you had been here for about an hour and you had muffins to bake and customers to please.
‘‘ I suppose you will ‘‘ he answered with an amused glint in his eyes.
You decided to turn even though your body and heart really wanted to stay. Your intuition and head however won over the battle inside you and told you to get the fuck away from him.
You kept your back turned as you made you way past the mysterious boy. You had a feeling that he was still watching you as you went, eyes never leaving you and it freaked you out a little, making you shudder.
The rest of the day went on as if it was like any other day. Tons of baking and getting your hands dirty, chatty customers and delicious desserts. By the end of the long workday your muscles were aching. You cleaned up and did your usual routine of locking up the store when everyone had left.
Usually you wouldn’t think twice about walking home in the dark, your bakery closed at midnight so it was way past sunset. It was practically pitch black outside and no one was on the streets, they were all at home probably sound asleep. For some reason the queen had decided that all houses be soundproof in the village. So the fear was increasing when you thought about the stranger, the dark and walking home alone because if something happened no one would help you - they wouldn’t hear you scream or hear you cry out for help.
You turned the key that locked the bakery with shaky hands but tried to compose yourself. You had a very odd and naive thought in your head,
If I don’t get attacked tonight I can trust Jaemin
It truly didn’t make any sense but just about every cell in your body wanted to trust him, and wanted him to like you, like the way you were so attracted to him.
‘‘ y/n? ‘‘ a voice behind you said interrupting your thoughts.
You shrieked and jumped in surprise, throwing your arms up in some pathetic attempt at defence in case you’d need it.
‘‘ It’s just me, your neighbour ‘‘ 
You lowered your arms and smiled at him apologetically.
‘‘ Sorry ‘‘
‘‘ Don’t be I get it. It’s dark, no one’s around and I just startled you like that, I should be the one to apologise ‘‘ 
‘‘ No no, it’s just that I don’t like walking home in the dark ‘‘ you assured him, now feeling really guilty.
‘‘ I can walk you home ‘‘ he offered with a friendly smile.
You were silent for a bit, thinking to yourself before making up your mind.
‘‘ Yeah, I’d like that. Thank you ‘‘ you returned back the smile even though you still felt a bit uncomfortable.
Jaemin joined your side and waited for you to step away from the shop and decide the pace.
You walked in silence beside each other. You felt a bit nervous, not really being sure if you were supposed to start a conversation or not but then it dawned upon you, why the fuck was he alone there in the village anyway?
You glanced at him quickly to see if it would give you a clue to this mystery but he looked as he always did, nothing was different. So you decided to drop it and thankfully you didn’t have much more time to overthink about it because your house had now appeared in sight. 
He still had a chance to take you if he wanted to, it was dark, quiet and no neighbours were close except for well...conveniently enough, him. But he didn’t. He kept his distance all the way up to the house and stepped back when you got up on the porch.
‘‘ Thank you ‘‘
‘‘ My pleasure miss ‘‘ he said with the same amused glint in his eyes.
You turned around and walked in, closing the door and locking it. Well inside you leaned on the door allowing yourself to calm down a bit. 
He didn’t do anything
You shrugged and went upstairs, getting ready for bed and falling asleep not long after your head touched the pillow.
-
The next day he was the first thing you thought about in the morning before you jumped to your feet and rushed to put on your clothes and get to work.
You broke into a sprint constantly mumbling fuck to yourself and basically bursting in the bakery. The few customers inside and the cashier you had hired looked at you in shock. 
You stopped for a bit to catch your breath before explaining, still out of breath to the cashier.
‘‘ The-Ball-I-Have-To-Bake ‘‘ you managed to press out between every breath.
The cashier gasped and immediately left the desk.
‘‘ I’ll bring you the ingredients ‘‘
You swallowed and nodded to the customers when you walked past them disappearing into the back room where you did your magic. 
You put down your stuff and put on your apron already in action when the cashier came in, put the ingredients on the table and hurried out again.
You ended up making several pastries and cakes to the queen’s liking and by the end - about six hours of straight baking, you were so exhausted you decided not to go to the ball.
The cashier peeked her head in about an hour before it was to start.
‘‘ I’ll send these up? ‘‘ she walked up to the finished products and you just nodded at her, drying off the sweat that had formed on your forehead. 
After that you spent the rest of the hour leading up to the ball cleaning up all the mess you had created.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
You sighed, it was already closed but you have had to deal with customers knocking anyway wanting treats when you weren’t open. You put down your cleaning supplies and hurried to the door. Through the glass door you saw the outline of your neighbour.
‘‘ Jaemin? ‘‘
He shook his head and tutted at your state when you opened the door.
‘‘ Do I really look that bad? ‘‘ you said and glanced down quickly.
‘‘ For a ball, yes. Otherwise, no you look exceptional ‘‘ he said
You snorted at his flirty comment.
‘‘ I’m not going, too busy ‘‘ 
‘‘ What? No way. I won’t let that happen ‘‘ 
You turned to face him again, having walked up behind the desk to count today’s money. He leaned over the desk and tried to give you his puppy eyes.
‘‘ I can’t go like this Jaemin, sorry ‘‘ you said and shrugged your shoulders.
He scrunched his nose and stopped trying to use his puppy eyes on you now.
‘‘ I have magic ‘‘ he tilted his head when he saw this caught your attention.
‘‘ Really? You’re a jester? ‘‘ you rolled your eyes.
‘‘ What, is it not cool enough for miss or something? ‘‘ he jumped over the counter effortlessly and was now standing very close to you, closer than he’d ever been before.
They way he was towering over you basically looking down on you made you chuckle unexpectedly. 
‘‘ Yeah sure it’s cool enough I guess ‘‘ you answered playfully attempting to push him out the way so you could walk past.
He put his arm out, not letting you.
‘‘ Do you use it a lot on the ladies? ‘‘ you added and held the eye-contact
He snickered and made a very cute expression which made your heart melt.
‘‘ Of course. Every time ‘‘ he said sarcastically ‘‘ Now, will you let me ‘‘ he waved to your messy state.
‘‘ I guess why not ‘‘ you said and closed your eyes.
When it was silent for a few seconds you opened them again and you saw white clouds surrounding you all around, when it had cleared and disappeared completely you could finally see his work.
You were wearing a champagne coloured silk dress that was quite tight at the top with spaghetti straps and flowed out at the bottom, highlighting your curves. Looking at you hands, they as well were polished and clean and you hair was in a sleek ponytail, feeling as if it had been washed.
‘‘ I’m impressed ‘‘ you said at last when you noticed his worried expression, anxiously waiting for your opinion.
He exhaled deeply.
‘‘ Thank god ‘‘
You giggled at his cuteness.
‘‘ Shall we go? ‘‘
‘‘ Certainly ‘‘ he answered and extended his arm for you to take.
The walk this time was also pretty quiet, the castle wasn’t too far away you could already see it from here but you just couldn’t help yourself,
‘‘ Hey Jaemin? ‘‘
‘‘ Yeah ‘‘
‘‘ What were you doing so late at night in the village yesterday? ‘‘ 
Although you didn’t look at him, you could feel him get a bit uncomfortable.
‘‘ Browsing I guess ‘‘ it was your turn to feel uncomfortable now, all the stores closed a lot earlier than your bakery and everyone in town knew that but he hastily added, ‘‘ The villagers told me your bakery closed very late so I thought I’d go by and buy something. Unfortunately it was closed though ‘‘ he laughed and looked down shyly when you looked at him in surprise.
‘‘ Why’s that, horrible sweet-tooth? ‘‘ you said
‘‘ No, just wanted to support my neighbour. That’s all ‘‘
You nodded and felt a bit guilty for being suspicious of him. If your guards hadn’t been down before they sure were now, basically in hell. You felt incredibly comfortable and at ease with Jaemin and you did for a moment think you were starting to fall in love with him. 
This feeling would arise again when you had finally reached the castle and were greeted by the white rabbit.
‘‘ Invitations and names please ‘‘ he said in a stressed voice, his eyes all the time looking back and forth, darting between guests.
The jester gave the rabbit one of his charming smiles and you watched as he interacted with other people, even that was attractive, god what was wrong with you?
He fixed everything for the two of you, showing both of your invitations and names and you leant back letting someone else do the work for the first time in your life. It was nice, this weird feeling of being taken cared of.
He took your hand when the rabbit let you through and he lead you towards the dessert table. You raised your eyebrow at him when he started basically inhaling entire pastries of yours.
‘‘ I have to see how talented you are ‘‘ he defended himself when he saw your judging look. 
You rolled your eyes and waited for him to finish, eyeing the other guests as you did. When he finally was done - after eating half the table you noticed - he dragged you out on the dance floor. 
It was a slow song. You gave him a shy look, not sure if you wanted him to see how much you liked loved him or for onlookers to see that either for that matter. But he insisted, pulling you close to him and starting to rock slowly to the beat of the music. He gave you a big childish grin and you laughed, starting to move as well and letting you be drowned in this feeling. 
It felt like it truly was just you and him in this world, and he would protect you and love you forever. He could do you no harm, he was amazing. 
You probably radiated these feelings through the lovingly eyes you were giving him and he looked at you the same way. Everyone else faded away and it felt like you were in a fairytale, just how magical it all felt...until it didn’t,
The music was abruptly stopped and murmuring filled the hall. You didn’t have the energy to worry about it so you leaned your head again Jaemin’s chest feeling sleepy. In the distance through your dazed eyes you saw the white rabbit approach you, until he wasn’t very blurry anymore, he was clear and right in front of you clearing his throat. 
‘‘ Miss you need to come with me right now ‘‘ the rabbit said in a shaky voice.
‘’ Hm? ‘‘ you said sleepily not yet leaving Jaemin’s arms.
‘‘ What’s going on? ‘‘ Jaemin said in a worriedly.
‘‘ It’s uh, something very terrible has happened to her parents sir ‘‘ the rabbit looked down on the ground under the intense stare of the jester.
‘‘ Let’s go, y/n ‘‘ he whispered to you gently and took your hand.
You had no idea what was going on but followed like a lost puppy. The rabbit lead you to a carriage which you were put in and sent off. It stopped outside your parents house, a mansion closer to Jaemin’s house than it was your own - on the outskirts of town. 
‘‘ Wait here. I’ll see what’s wrong ‘‘ he said and stepped out.
Your head felt heavy, like you’d fall into eternal sleep any minute now - that’s how tired you felt, like you hadn’t slept for decades.
‘‘ y/n dear? ‘‘ the carriage door opened again and two hands extended to take your weight. You walked up to it, staggering and let yourself be lifted down.
Everything was a bit blurry but you could make out the familiar outline of your parents on the ground. They were in front of their front door and they didn’t seem to be moving. Blood was flowing out from their necks and their limbs were twisted in weird, unnatural angles.
Oh
This must’ve been the terrible thing the rabbit had been talking about...
You tried to walk towards your parents but your foot hit something. You looked down and jumped back in surprise. It was another body, no - you looked around, it was several bodies of the guards.
‘‘ What happened to them? ‘‘ you asked Jaemin in a horrified voice.
‘‘ I don’t know ‘‘ he said and bit his lip, lowering his raised right hand and entwining his left one with yours.
‘‘ Look at me y/n ‘‘
You turned to look at him, starting to feel a bit overwhelmed and scared of everything going on. You felt crazy, like you had no idea what was real and what wasn’t.
‘‘ You and I, we’re gonna live together. Far far away from here and we will be happy forever because you love me right? Say it! ‘‘ he roared the last words but you weren’t scared. You just looked at him with loving eyes.
‘‘ I love you ‘‘ you said like a robot, 
completely entranced 
you were his 
forever
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nationalharryleague · 4 years
Text
In the Long Green Grass
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Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader
Genre: the fluffiest fluff with husband!harry  
Word count: 2K
A/N: Hi everyone!! Merry Christmas to all that celebrate!! this is my Secret Santa (run and organized by the lovely lu (@meetmymouth​) gift to the sweetest angel who walks among us miss hasibi (@peachybloomss​)!!! I hope you enjoy it my love!!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist and I would love to hear what everyone thinks in my ask! Thank you so much for reading!! 
*** 
You were stirred by the sounds of the waves crashing against the cliff outside the home as the early morning sun streamed in through the windows. A small huf and whine left your lips, always one to ask for just five more minutes in bed, before you climbed from underneath the warm plush blankets and your toes hit the icy and worn wood floors beneath you.
The buttery yellow sunlight thwarted your plans to fight yourself back to sleep for those last few moments, prompting you to reach out your arms in a longing stretch. You released a light and sleepy hum of surprise when your arm hit a tiny furry body, and not the arm of the man who loved to sleep late in the bed beside you. Peeping one eye open, you made eye contact with Piper, Harry’s small jet black cat with glowing green eyes who was laying next to you, curled up on sheets that still held the indent of his body in them.
Piper wore a face of annoyance, obviously blaming you for interrupting her precious beauty sleep, and her eyes followed your body as you forced yourself out of the bed with one goal: find Harry.
Harry had a habit of disappearing, especially in a new place where there was just so much to explore. He was a wanderer (and an aquarius); always on the move, carried along by a thought or idea he just couldn’t resist. It was hard for him to sit still, a trait he probably picked up after tour after tour after tour, never allowing himself the luxury of rest or relaxation after it was never allowed to him. That was why you had insisted he needed time away from the city, finding a perfect spot in a small cottage that sat on the edge of a cliff along the ocean with a back garden full of sweet smelling flowers and tall cushony grass.
You tiptoed carefully down the spiral staircase that lovingly let out groans underfoot, still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, into a kitchen that looked straight out of a fairytale. It was small with moss green cabinets and large bay windows that filled the space with light that kept the seemingly hundreds of plants in the house happy and thriving. A cool ocean breeze came in through the open windows of the small breakfast nook, bringing along the scent of a fresh pot of coffee that sat on the butcher block countertops like it had been waiting for you to wake all along. While you felt a jump of excitement within you for the coffee, it still hadn’t been what (or who) you were looking for, even though you were very glad you found it.
A sweet cup of coffee was thoughtfully prepared in a tea cup you had found in the cabinet with small wisteria flowers painted around it’s rim. You knew Harry would poke fun at your cup choice if he were there. “Tea cups are for tea,” you could hear him say, perking up the edges of your mouth into a gentle smile as you sipped it carefully. But the flowers reminded you of the beautiful wisteria tree that flowed in the wind and scattered it’s petals all over the back garden; you just couldn’t pass it up.
It took you quite a while to find him, even with the new found caffeinated energy running through your system. You had run into the two other cats at the house, both rather chubby tabbys named Jack and Gus, that called this back garden home on your search and you obviously had to say good morning. The two rubbed themselves up against your legs, begging for a scratch behind the ear and a bit of attention, and you obliged. Who were you to deny them of it?
The garden the cats got to call home was a dream. It was filled with every variety of colorful flower imaginable and blanketed in a sweet air that always hovered over the space. Your favorites were the small peachy blooms that smelled of sugary perfume. A stone fence ran the perimeter of the yard, a white picket fence in the middle opening to a swath of overgrown grass that swayed in the wind on a hill. If you squinted, you could see the house of the couple you were renting the cottage from, but they were far enough away it felt like you were the only people around for miles.
When you spotted a Harry-shaped hole in the tall grass up the hill, you had a sneaking suspicion you had found your missing husband.
The tall grass squished beneath your feet as you climbed the hill, creating a soft padding below, and the long blades tickled against your bare legs as you made your way towards him, still only dressed in one of his perfectly worn t-shirts from the night before.
“There you are,” you hummed happily when you reached him, standing above him as he layed in the grass. “I thought that I lost you.”
He looked like a renaissance painting as he laid in the grass that was dotted with small pink and purple wildflowers. His curls had gotten a little longer during his much needed break and they splayed out around his head in delicate ringlets like a halo. The light from the still rising sun bounced off his slightly dewy skin, giving him a glow that lit him up even more than usual. Stubble danced across his cheeks and jaw, framing his perfectly pink lips that held a gentle smile as he looked up at you from the ground. And his eyes squinted slightly, shielding his pupils from the ever growing brightness of the sky, creating delicate little wrinkles around his sea glass green eyes that looked so vibrant in the light.
A worn book that you hadn’t seen before, bound in dark green leather with gold detailing, sat on his chest; Poems for Lovers: A Collection was embossed delicately across the cover.
“You’ll never lose me,” he mumbled up at you, a gravel in his voice like it was the first time he had used it that day. You had been married for almost two years and had been together for five, but your cheeks never failed to redden when he spoke sweet nothings like that. “Good morning, angel,” he said softly, reaching his hand up for yours.
You moved to place your hand in his, but ended up only linking your pinkies together in the process; a light tug from the man below you signaled for you to join him on the ground. You couldn’t resist, sitting yourself down with your legs crossed in front of you on the slightly damp ground next to him, pinkies still locked together.
“Morning,” you greeted. “I missed you in bed. Piper isn’t much of a cuddler,” you chuckled while absentmindedly playing with his fingers, twirling his wedding band.
“She’s not very nice, is she?” he smiled, opening his eyes fully to meet yours as you strategically moved your body to block his delicate eyes from the sun. “I’m sorry my cat’s a bitch,” he joked. “She still thinks she’s my number one girl.”
“I tell her I’m sorry that I stole her spot in bed all the time, she never listens. Won’t even have a civil chat with me about it,” you teased sarcastically.
Harry let out an enthusiastic giggle at your words; it was high pitched, and came from his belly in loud bursts of air. His cheeks scrunched up and forced his eyes closed because he was smiling so wide, crinkling the corners of his eyes once again. His laughter was infectious and you couldn’t help but join in.
You two must have looked insane, sitting in the grass in a field in the middle of nowhere just after dawn, laughing like idiots. But you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Well, a few more hours of sleep wouldn’t have hurt.
As your gigges died down, you turned your attention to the book resting on his chest. “You ditched me in bed for a book?” you teased, letting the remaining laughter escape your body.
“I couldn’t sleep and I found it on one of the bookshelves. I thought it would be nice to read in the grass and watch the sun come up.”
“You should have woken me up. I could have thought of a few things we could have done to tire you out.” A smirk played on your lips as you tapped your chin, pretending to think, as you watched his eyes grow in amusement from your innuendo.
“You looked too peaceful sleeping. Also, drool and bedhead don’t really turn me on if I’m being honest.” It was your turn to react to his teasing.
Your jaw dropped in feigned offence and your finger flew over your shoulder to point back at the cottage. “I can go back if you’d like your privacy,” you said incredulously and with dramatics, until a few chuckles broke through and your resolve softened once again.
“Oh no no no,” he spoke with a grin, “come here,” moving the book and tapping his chest for you to rest your head on. You turned yourself around to lay yourself on the ground, placing your head on his chest and listening to his steady and calming heartbeat.
“How are your poems?” you asked, referencing the book he was now holding in his hands.
“They are very good. I’m glad I found it.” His voice reverberated under your head as he spoke, and you rose and fell softly with his breath.
“Read me your favorite.”
“Okay,” he began, thumbing through the pages as he held the book above both your heads. You listened as he let out a small “ah, here it is,” before he dramatically cleared his throat. “You might remember me talking about this one already, but I love it.”
You knew he loved it before he even began reading anything. He loved his poetry, especially when they were about love. Harry was a hopeless romantic at heart, often saying to you and interviewers “I just love love.” He loved falling in love with you and becoming a team, just as much as you did with him.
“It’s called The Wait,” he spoke gently, his voice taking on a deeper and more enunciated quality. You recognized the poem immediately, as it was the one referenced on his pants for the Vogue cover shoot. He had dedicated it to you then, and was doing it again now in the grass. “It seemed like years before I picked a bouquet of kisses off her mouth and put them into a dawn-colored vase in my heart,” he began. He spoke slowly and smoothly with the consistency and sweetness of honey. “But the wait was worth it,” he continued. “Because I was in love.”
You couldn’t help but think of your own story as he read. He had chased after you for years, with you always insisting that he was your best friend and you were afraid to ruin that. But gradually, your best friend became your lover, and your lover became your husband.
“I like that one a lot too.” You spoke softly and with reflection. “It reminds me of us.”
“That’s why it’s my favorite.”
You two layed in the grass for hours, not a care in the world, as he read from the book. Every poem took you two on a journey into a love story, one that for the two of you only existed on the page, but told of a very real love that couldn’t have been dishonestly written.
But with how you felt in the moment, with the joy and loving warmth you felt in your belly, you were sure you could write a million poems about the love you had with him.
Thank you so much for reading!! Reblogs/feedback mean the world!!! 
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