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mellowyandere · 3 years

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You’re Ours to Protect

Had a weird dream last night. Thought you might enjoy it.

Reader: F

Characters: Toshinori Yagi (All Might), Aizawa Shouta (Eraserhead), Yamada Hizashi (Present Mic)

Summary: Your time as an anti-hero might finally be coming to an end. With three pros on your tail it’s a miracle this didn't happen sooner. (Reader has a quirk but it’s not very important to the smut.)

Length: 4.5 K (I have come to the conclusion that I am incapable of writing below 4 K)

Warnings: non-con, yandere themes, slight bondage/restraints, voyeurism, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, anal fingering, anal sex, M/M/F, mostly clothed male, naked reader, slight cum swallowing, Eraserhead and Present Mic are in an established relationship in this fic.

Hands were on your body, hands that shouldn’t be there. Your mind was stuck in a fog, your limbs so heavy you could barely move them. What was going on? You strained to remember, thinking long and hard about what might have led you here as calloused fingers blazed trails along your exposed thighs. You managed to wiggle your limbs a bit, shaking off the haze that muddled your brain.

You groaned, trying to open your eyes so you can get a better understanding of your surroundings. Your hands were restrained behind your back but it seemed your legs were free. You'd murder who ever had their fucking hands on you. As your eyes adjusted to the light you couldn't help but groan again as the figure in front of you came into view. You tried and failed to subtly use your quirk, this didn’t look good.

“Eraserhead. Didn’t realize you were still wasting your time looking for me. Not my fault I beat you to that criminal. Hero’s leaving trash like him alive is such a stupid concept. He was a murderer you know.”

You looked around to the best of your ability as you spoke, you were sitting on a plush dark green couch in what appeared to be a relatively empty basement. You had been stripped of your gear, leaving you in your underwear and an oversized t-shirt. Two men were flanking you on the couch. The one to your left you didn't recognize. He was ridiculously tall, as well as skinny. Blond hair a mess as two long bangs hid his eyes from view. To your right was a pro you did recognize. His emerald green eyes sparkled in delight behind his civilian glasses as he grinned down at you. So it was their hands on your body currently. They’d die first then.

“So, what does that make you?” the dark haired pro murmured, leaning forwards and somewhat regaining your attention.

You ignored his question, opting to look about some more. There wasn't a one-way mirror or any recording device in sight. Were they interrogating you off the books? This whole situation seemed off, these were heroes right? They’d convict you and leave you to rot in a dingy jail cell somewhere.. but this didn't look like a normal interrogation room.

“I know this is my first time getting caught and all but this doesn’t really seem up to protocol. Gonna haul me away after having fun or something?” You shifted your gaze to the obsidian eyes in front of you, leaning forwards to mimic his posture.

Present Mic barked out a laugh, hand squeezing harder on you thigh much to your annoyance. “Sorry babe but prison won’t be your final destination! I mean after all y’aint evil, just a lil misguided is all, nothin’ three pros can’t fix.” He ended his sentence with a pinch to your leg.

“If you don’t get your fucking hands off me I’ll kill you!” You snarled, turning and getting up in Present Mic’s face. The tall blond to your left pulled his hands back, scooting away as Present Mic continued to leer down at you.

“HAH little girls got some bite, but we already knew that. Don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to use that quirk. I’m hurt now! You really would try to kill me huh?” he mocked with a fake pout, but you could see the amusement in his eyes.

“I’m sure you’ve already realized by now you can’t use your quirk. It wasn’t easy making a device to cancel it out, but thanks to our newest colleague here the hardest part was collecting your DNA and picking what color collar we wanted.” Eraserhead leaned forward, fingers tugging on the collar you only now just realized was around your neck.

You tried to bite him, but he pulled back. If only you could wipe that stupid smirk off his face with a heart attack. Your quirk was the ability to clot blood after all. A handy trick if you found yourself injured, but even more so for killing once you learned how to properly control it. No one really batted an eye at an ischemic stroke due to the clotting of an artery to the brain. Well.. almost nobody..

“You have a very impressive ability,” the tall blond stated, “in all honesty we probably wouldn’t have caught on if we hadn’t watched you kill. You’ve induced countless of natural looking deaths, but upon closer inspection you target people whose crimes would have landed them in jail. Noble, but very misguided. You’re pretty reckless though, what if you had gotten hurt?”

“So fucking what if I did.” You kept your eyes glued to Present Mic as you responded, trusting him a lot less than the man behind you. His eyes narrowed dangerously at your snarky rebuttal.

“Language young lady, and that’s no way to talk! What would compel you to risk your life, why don’t you trust your hero’s more?”

You clenched your teeth in frustration but didn’t respond. You were done cooperating, not like you were doing much to begin with though.

The scrapping of a metal chair on concrete drew your gaze as Eraserhead stood up.

“Back up Zashi, I’ll take over from here. Toshinori you’re fine where you are.”

You couldn’t help but struggle a bit at his words. “What do you mean, what the hell are you going to do!? You insane or something? Just turn me in to the police!”

“You really don't pay attention do you. Hizashi already said you’re not going to the police. I don’t know what skeletons you have in your closet, or why you started killing people, but that will come out in due time. For now you don’t have to kill anymore. The three of us will take care of you, without the law sentencing you to life. We’ve been hunting you down for so long. We’ve been very patient, but right now you need us to help show you what you’ve been missing. Running around all by yourself, you must have been so lonely.” Eraserhead finished up his little spiel as he stalked forwards, looming over your sitting frame.

“Don’t fucking TOUC-gah!” You had been so focused on Eraserhead’s approach you hadn’t noticed Present Mic coming at you with a gag until it was too late.

“Yagi already asked you to watch that dirty mouth of yours, don’t worry though babe once you simmer down a bit we’ll take it out.”

“Ple-please Hizashi call me Toshinori we’ve been over this.”

You gave Eraserhead your best glare as he stopped in front of you. He smiled softly at your defiance before wedging his knee in between your legs and slamming his hands onto the couch, caging you in. Wait by show you what you were missing.. these hero's were going to..?

You tried to talk reason, but all that came out were muffled pleas. None of it coherent.

“We’ve been watching over you for 5 months now kitten. Trying to find the best way to approach you but in the end taking you somewhere safe seemed to be the only logical solution. While getting this house ready for your arrival we all started to feel as if you belonged here all along. I know it’s not fair, we’ve had so much longer to get to know you, but you’ll know us just as well soon enough.”

It was official. These pros had lost their damn minds. They actually figured out how to justify what they were about to do to you. Your promise to only kill criminals was really coming back to bite you on the ass.

You brought your legs up and tried to kick him off, but were quickly thwarted by two pairs of hands grabbing them and pinning you down.

“Now now sweetheart none of that, Shouta here is just going to show you our conviction. No one will ever hurt you again now that we are here. Now that I am here” The last part was mumbled more to himself than the group.

Something must have happened to these men to cause their hero complex to grow into something so twisted. But that was no fucking excuse for their actions. They needed therapy, not someone to play damsel in distress with.

Shouta lowered himself between your legs until he was kneeling on the floor in front of you. You tried to plead with your eyes, beg him to stop, but he met your gaze with something bordering love. That wasn’t good. Breaking eye contact he looked down at your underwear, bringing a hand up you held your breath as he gently brushed against your core.

“You can’t even begin to imagine how much I’ve dreamed of this moment. You truly are something special, and yet you treat your life with such little regard it’s maddening.” He trailed his knuckles against the thin fabric as he spoke, your traitorous body sparking heat in your lower abdomen in anticipation.

Pulling your underwear to the side he slowly began to slide his fingers up and down your progressively wetting folds.

“Well now, someone secretly enjoyin’ themselves baby,” Hizashi all but purred, his hand squeezing your flesh while his gaze was transfixed on where his partner was violating you. You couldn’t help but let out a pitiful whine. It was absolutely humiliating being spread out before these three men.

The noises your wet cunt were making were no help to your embarrassment, and they only got worse once the dark haired pro rid you of your last line of defense and began to insert two of his fingers.

“H-how does she feel?” Toshinori couldn’t help but ask. His face was flushed red, along with the tips of his ears as his vibrant blue eyes watched Shouta’s fingers slowly sink inside you.

“Tight, shit she’s tight. She’s perfect, so fucking wet for her hero's. I’ll work you open kitten don’t worry.” You couldn’t help but clamp down on his fingers at his words, earning a deep chuckle in response.

“See now, such a good girl aren’t you. Prison is no place for you kitten, though if you want we can always role-play your wardens.”

Role-play my ass we’re already living it, was all you could think bitterly.

As if he read your mind Shouta couldn’t help but continue to antagonize you, thumb beginning to make light circles against your clit as he pumped his fingers, adding a third and quickly burying them knuckle deep. Soft whimpers slipped from your mouth as you tried in vain to wiggle away from Eraserhead’s deft fingers.

Hizashi was getting impatient, removing one of his hands to grasp your breast through the t-shirt you had on. His slim fingers began to pinch and rub your nipple, though his eyes never left your cunt.

Toshinori was struggling in his own way. Raspy breaths with slight coughs as he grew more and more aroused. He too removed a hand from your leg, but instead made quick work of the zipper on his pants. Taking his semi hard cock in his hand he began gently stroke himself while watching your display.

You truly were everything they had ever wanted. But you didn’t want this, despite your bodies responses to their ministrations. You could feel it, Shouta seemed to know exactly where to stroke as he worked you up tighter and tighter, velvety walls clamping down at your approaching climax.

You found each man murmuring their own words of praise, anywhere from “That’s it baby girl, take all of Sho now,” to “Such a perfect princess, do you want to finish?” The man between your legs even adding to the mantra of soft words spoken to you. “So close kitten, see what good girls get. You’re going to cum for me okay?”

He posed it like a question but you knew it was far from it. It was a statement, a matter of fact statement that you couldn’t deny even if you had tried. Your back arched, moans and mewls intercepted but not completely blocked out by your gag as you rocked against his hand. He gladly continued to finger you, watching as you came down from your high and only then removed his hand.

You were panting hard, shame quickly washing away the pleasure from your orgasm. Sensing the shift in your demeanor Hizashi was quick to pounce, peppering your face in kisses despite your shifty protests and groans of despair. “None of that now babe, after all we’re just gettin’ this show started!”

Shouta stood and moved out from between your legs, licking some of your slick off his hand before he wiped the rest on his black pants leg. “You got lube Zashi?” Hizashi paused his attack and shot the dark haired pro a million dollar smile. “You bet our babes cute ass I got it! Lemme find it, hold her Toshi.”

Toshinori floundered a bit, cock in hand as Hizashi shoved you closer to him, before jumping up from the couch. Eyes trailing down to his hand you couldn’t help but freeze in shock. Not only was this man stupid tall, his dick was frighteningly large. The older hero noticed your stare and couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at your expression. “Don’t worry princess, Shouta and Hizashi are going to help you today. My sides acting up so I’ll only be watching.”

As if on cue the man was hit by a coughing fit, and much to your surprise he even coughed up some blood. Eraserhead was still looming over you, leaning over he gently rubbed the older blonds back as he tried to ease him through the pain. You didn’t dare move as all this transpired around you. What good would it have done you anyways? You were effectively quirkiness, and your fighting skills would be severely lacking against the two heroes you knew. You had no idea who this Toshinori guy was, but if he was close to Eraserhead and Present Mic you doubted he was weak.

You heard Hizashi rummaging behind you through a dresser you hadn’t noticed earlier. Craning your neck, you peered over and cried out in frustration.

“Tada!” He sung triumphantly, a small bottle of lube in his hand. “Act two can now officially begin!” You could only yell and wiggle about in protest, your arms still tied behind your back. Toshinori’s hand on your thigh moved to gently pat you on the head.

“Behave now for them okay? If you’re good we can show you the rest of our home after this.”

You jerked your head out from under his hand and yelled more incoherent nonsense out of frustration. You had expected anger to replace the adoring look in his eyes but you were only met with fond amusement.

He stood up with a hearty laugh, erection still in hand as he grabbed Shouta’s discarded chair, sitting down facing the couch. Shouta was quick to take Toshinori’s place on the couch while Hizashi took up residence behind you.

“I have a feelin’ this star ain’t a fan of the spotlight, no need to be camera shy babe.” You watched Shouta roll his eyes at his partner in crime before he began to manhandle you. Hands under your armpits he pulled you up and wrangled you onto your knees facing him on the couch.

Hizashi slid one knee between your legs so you couldn't close them. Your tied hands couldn’t help but brush up against his clothed hard on, causing him to rut against you a bit in anticipation.

Without warning he took a solid grip of your t-shirt and ripped it off. You squeaked in surprise, your face heating up as you realized you were the only person fully naked in the room.

“Was it really necessary to rip my shirt?”

“Sorry about that Toshi! Didn’t want to delay the show with takin’ off her bindings yah dig? You rip them a bunch anyways so what’s another to the pile? But ain’t this just so much better, our baby girl on full display it makes my heart swoon!”

“Just get her ready Hizashi, and no rushing it, you don’t want to hurt her.”

“Aight aight sorry I’ll get to work, you keep her happy.”

Both men moved closer, pressing your body between them. They had propped themselves up on their knees and had you effectively stuck. Shouta gently placed one hand around your neck, giving your collar a tug, while the other trailed down and began to gently work your still wet pussy.

You stared into his chest, trying your best to space out but jerked back to reality when you heard the pop of a lid behind you.

“Don’t worry babe I’ll get you ready, I’m somewhat of a pro yah know?”

That was when you felt his lubed finger gently prodding your other hole. You jolted forwards into Shouta who didn’t even budge in response to your full body weight. Hizashi simply shuffled closer, continuing to push until finally he breached you. You whimpered at the uncomfortable intrusion.

Shouta's fingers lazily worked your cunt as he rocked his erection against your lower abdomen. Despite the fact that you hated the feeling of his growing arousal you couldn’t help but lean into him to try and get away from Hizashi as he slipped another finger inside. Tears slowly rolled down your face in frustration as the two heroes prepared your body.

“There we go kitten, you’re doing so well. Just be patient alright and it won’t hurt so bad.” Shouta removed his hand from around your neck and placed it on your head, angling your gaze to the third member of the group you had almost forgotten while pulling you flush to his clothed chest so you couldn’t freely change your field of view.

Toshinori was leaned back in the metal folding chair, which looked comically small with him sitting on it. His eyes were clouded with lust as he stroked his thick cock. His own pre-cum and spit adding obscene noises to his ministrations. He gave you a lopsided smile as you made eye contact, causing you to quirky avert your gaze.

By this point Hizashi had worked three fingers knuckle deep into your tight hole, but coupled with Shouta’s work the line between uncomfortable and pleasurable began to mix together. A breathless moan escaped you as the two pros finally got their desired reaction.

“She’s as good as she’s gonna get Sho, let’s say you and me start the finale I can’t take feelin’ her tight lil hole clamping down on my fingers any longer. Not when I got somethin’ much better for her.”

Your tears flowed a bit faster at your impending fate. This was fucking insane! You might have been a murderer, but you weren't expected to be a good person unlike these men. These heroes who were now violating you.

Since Shouta was in black sweatpants he merely leaned back a bit and pulled them down, cock springing free. He had a solid girth to him, red tip dripping pre down his shaft to his unruly black pubic hair. You heard a zipper behind you as the blond freed himself, though due to being squashed between the two you had no idea what to prepare for.

Hizashi hummed in contemplation at your tied hands, currently in the way of his objective. “Bonds might have to go Sho, you get her hands?” The sleepy hero merely nodded grasping your wrists as Hizashi swiftly untied them.

“Ready now primadonna?”

“Ha ha you’re soo funny Sho... but yes, shit, I’m fucking ready.”

You kept quiet this time, head pressed against Shouta’s chest as you listened to his rapidly beating heart. You gave one last pleading look to the lean blond watching intently from the sideline, but all he did was shrug his shoulders with a small smile on his face.

“You’re going to do great princess don’t worry.”

You felt the tips of each man at their respective entrance, Shouta's teasing your soaking cunt while Hizashi lightly probed your lubed ass. You closed your eyes and accepted defeat. They gently began to rut their hips, cocks sinking deeper with each thrust. You felt uncomfortably full as they breached you.

“Oh fuck oh fuck I can feel you through her.” The blond quickly grabbed your breasts, tweaking your nipples like he had earlier.

“Easy does it kitten, we got you,” Shouta groaned out.

You weren’t a fan of Hizashi behind you, rocking forward into Shouta as they continued to fuck into you. He squeezed down on your wrists in warning, hot breath fanning the top of your head. It didn’t take much longer before they both had finally bottomed out. You groaned in distress while they groaned in bliss.

“I’ve got her wrists you help her out alright, and take it easy.”

“Sheesh I heard yah the first time, I’ll help our lil girl out.”

Hizashi snaked a hand in between you and Shouta, finding your clit.

They both continued fucking into you, Hizashi matching Shouta’s pace as they stimulated your body. You were angry, humiliated, and yet somehow you were so turned on it was embarrassing. You should be thrashing about, snarling into your gag, but instead all you could do was rock your body to their salacious tempo.

Peeking your eyes open at a particularly hard thrust from Hizashi you saw Toshinori on the edge of the chair. You could just barely make out his raspy breaths and small moans over Shouta and Hizashi’s groaning. His brilliant blue eyes bore into your own. One of his hands worked his long shaft while the other was death gripping his clothed thigh. It almost looked as if steam was pouring off of him. Was he always that muscular?

You didn’t have long to contemplate Toshinori though, with a pinch to your clit Hizashi made sure to regain your attention. He had picked up his pace, throwing Shouta a bit off balance. He leaned down sucking and biting at your neck while rolling your perky nipple. Shouta felt your velvety walls clamp down around his cock, picking up his tempo to match Hizashi’s.

By now you were a mess. Traitorous moans fumbling from your mouth as the two heroes played your body. They had picked up an alternating tempo, never leaving you without a cock inside your body. The pleasure had you throwing your head back, leaving your neck exposed and making room for Shouta to join Hizashi in leaving little claiming bites all along your delicate skin.

“She’s getting close Hizashi, we’re gonna fuck her through it alright?”

The blond pro behind you only moaned out something that sounded vaguely affirmative, eager to feel your tight walls clamp down on him.

You were beyond fighting them, on the brink of orgasm all it took was one pointed thrust from Shouta to have you crumbling apart. You pushed back into Hizashi’s chest, his t-shirt sticking to your sweat soaked skin as you clamped down on both of them. Hizashi moaned into your neck, his quirk picking up a bit as he lost his composure. Shouta had released your hands, ripping off your gag so he could grab your face and crash his mouth to yours, swallowing your moans as your newly freed hands grabbed fist fulls of his shirt to stabilize yourself.

As stated they continued fucking into you, dragging out your orgasm as your walls spasmed around them. Shouta’s tongue delved into your mouth, his own deep moans rumbling into you.

“Go-gonna fuckin’ cum Sho, n- not much longer.”

In response Eraserhead reached behind you, grabbing a fist full of the blonds hair and giving it a firm tug which was enough to push him over the edge.

“Sh-shit,” he wheezed, hips stilling as his cum filled your sore ass. “You fu- you fucking dirty cheater makin’ me finish first like that.” In kind Hizashi grabbed some of Shouta’s hair, pulling his mouth away from yours and up to his own.

“Go ahead and cum in her Sho you know you want to,” Hizashi taunted between kisses. The familiar sound of metal against concrete drew your gaze as the all too familiar symbol of peace stood at his full height. Holy fucking shit it was All Might.

The two pros ignored his approach, Shouta’s hips becoming a bit more deranged as he fucked into you. All Might reached in between the two and gripped your lower jaw, dazzling smile almost blinding you.

“Be a good girl now and open for me, you don’t have to swallow it all but I’d appreciate the effort.” He didn’t leave you with much of a choice finding it impossible to close your mouth with his grip, which at this point was very sore from the gag. The tip of his large member gently brushed against your lips as he shuttered at the feeling of your soft flesh.

By this point Shouta was thrusting aggressively against your battered cervix, mouth locked with Hizahi’s as he finally reached his own release. His hips stuttered as warmth filled your cunt.

Now all that was left was All Might. Your jaw strained to accommodate him, but he seemed to be more than aware of your limitations. He simply pushed the tip in, one hand stroking his shaft while the other gently pet your head.

“So pretty,” he cooed down at you. “Just like that princess, I’m gonna cum now okay?”

You simply kept your mouth open, tongue flat against the underside of his still cock as his cum filled your mouth. The bitter taste made you sputter, cum running down your chin as more took its place. After a couple more spurts he gently pulled away, some of the bitter substance sliding down your throat while the majority ended up down your chin and onto the couch below.

All four of you were panting, frozen in time until finally All Might disappeared in a large cloud of smoke. The man you had originally believed to be some unknown hero named Toshinori now stood in his place, shyly looking down at you.

“I guess that’s one way to show her huh big guy.” Hizashi jested.

“I-I know probably not the most ideal but I couldn’t help myself,” he murmured a bit embarrassed.

Hizashi and Shouta pulled out, their cum immediately running down your legs causing you to cringe a bit at the sensation.

“You guys.. fucking suck.” was all you could think of at the moment. You waited for the rage, for them to berate or attack you, but instead all that met you was a chorus of soft chuckles.

“Figured you wouldn’t be easy to convince kitten, but don’t worry. Between the three of us you’ll come around.”

These three men must have some thick fucking skulls to dismiss you so casually, that or their obsession was a lot deeper than you could even begin to comprehend.

“Some fucking heroes you are,” you grumbled lowly.

“Some fuckin’ heroes we are indeed cutie! HAH get it? Cause we just fucked yah?” Hizashi laughed at his own joke while Toshinori and Shouta groaned.

“Alright don’t make me gag you next, let’s just get everybody upstairs and clean up. We’ll do the house tour later kitten, for now we’ll just show you to your room.”

#tw: noncon #yandere toshinori yagi #yandere aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere all might #yandere eraserhead #yandere present mic #yandere my hero academia #yandere x reader #aizawa x reader #yandere erasermic #erasermic x reader #yamada hizashi x reader #toshinori x reader

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alluringjae · 3 years

Text

au cours de l’été - jjh

⤑ translation: over the summer

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

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

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

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

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

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

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

⤑ masterlist

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

3 juin 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jaehyun! What brings you here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Une nouvelle venue?” (A newcomer?)

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

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

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

“Jaehyun?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shucks, he was pretty cute.”

12 juin 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Correct.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

début de juillet 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s infatuated by you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Bonsoir, (Y/N).” [Goodnight, (Y/N).]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“En voyant notre mine ravie,”

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

“Les passants dans la rue, nous envient,”

Your hand perched on your cheek, admiring his talent.

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

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

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

“Un espoir merveilleux, qui donne le frisson…”

À la mi-juillet de 1957

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Get dressed and some sleep, (Y/N).”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Call me that again, please.”

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

“Tu peux m'avoir.” (You can have me.)

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

This time, it’s different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fin de juillet 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Keep them on when you ride me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Je t’aime aussi, Jaehyun.”

16 octobre 1957

Autumn made its way to the countryside.

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

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

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

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

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

“Still breathtaking.”

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

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

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

“Write to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now, what was he up to?

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

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

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

You giggled at his silliness, throwing out flying kisses.

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

21 octobre 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get to the point please!” You screeched.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Could the next summer come any faster?

14 février 1958

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I beg your pardon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your fairytale.

“Jaehyun.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He spoke about me to you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is he your favorite muse?”

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

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

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

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

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

“So tell me about your new book.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What really went down in Provence?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deal.”

6 ans plus tard (1964)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Remember when you said how his mansion felt too big?

It no longer did after getting married.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ouvre-le.” (Open it.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Je t’aime, (Y/N).”

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

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

Excluding being drenched from the rain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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sukirichi · 3 years

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Like, what happens to Mia? How does Gojo end up picking us? Naoya? How about Naoya? 😭😭😭🙏🏼😔

Omggg if you’re not going to continue reckless, can you please please please tell us how it ends? 😭😭😭 I don’t think I can bear living not knowing how it ends 😭 please? 😔😢🙏🏼😭

okay well here’s how it was gonna go, pls keep in mind my storytelling in asks and in writing are diff so this might be explained crappily HAHAHAHA but basically in reckless...

gojo gets shot in the head by his abusive dad bcos he finally stood up against him, but that backfired. his father is really adamant on control, and gojo loses his memories at the same time y/n gave birth. she decided to keep the baby after deciding that she wants a family after all, but when gojo woke up with mixed and lost memories, he only remembers mia and everything after her accident was gone. gojo becomes distorted and even becomes harsh sometimes, especially when y/n said they had a baby and she was his friend, bcos gojo’s mindset was from way back to six years ago, where he had lots of issues with his family and mia’s that he was wary who to trust.

so,,, they didn’t want gojo to hurt y/n bcos he’s such in an emotional mess that he has no control of himself. eventually, y/n decides to stay away but the baby is adopted by gojo and mia, who gets married for the sake of business and gojo’s current situation. truthfully, mia doesn’t want to marry him bcos it would hurt y/n and she’s not that awful. mia and y/n become friends after realizing they’re pretty similar and actually find genuine friendship with one another. she doesn’t have a choice tho and gojo, mia, along with gojo’s mom who divorced her husband for his abuse move to the states where they raised y/n and gojo’s daughter, sayori, leaving y/n all alone in tokyo who then becomes vice president of kamo enterprises. basically, it shows the repeated history of y/n’s father choosing to hide her from her real parents, and she begins to understand why he did that bcos she also has not really met her own daughter. y/n knows mia and gojo could take care of sayori better than she could, especially with the fact that gojo’s memories are mixed and transfixed on the timeline of him dating mia, mia giving birth to sayori, then them getting married. y/n is not present at all in his memories. gojo thinks he was the one in a car accident, not mia.

sayori is about four years old when gojo decides to come back to tokyo. now that he’s disowned and his mother has also left, gojo becomes a successful model in the states. he comes home bcos he remembers geto and wants to start their own agency (gojo as a model, geto as the photographer.) mia is wary at first for fear gojo might remember everything. she’s not being selfish; the doctors warned that anything that could potentially trigger gojo’s memories that his subconscious has erased could be detrimental to him. mia tries to hold it off but gojo insists, so the gojo/yamazaki family go back and that’s where gojo meets y/n, who he first thought was geto’s new wife.

in the reckless fanart, geto’s photo is like this.

geto’s ring is silver - it’s his dead wife’s ring. the hand caressing him is gold - it’s y/n wearing the ring of gojo’s mother, who by then has already apologized before they all left.

geto and y/n become best friends on the course of four years. missing her daughter, y/n becomes attached to mei (geto’s daughter) and acts more like a mom than an aunt. geto basks in this faux family they’ve built, though he makes sure mei is not too dependent or expecting that y/n would be her mom. he falls in love with y/n and he notices how after gojo left, she becomes softer and a lot sweeter. all the anger and hatred disappeared, all thanks to y/n finding peace with her new life and making up with her mother, Valeria, who once overdosed on drugs after it was exposed to the public that Y/N is a child she abandoned. y/n saved Valeria by rushing her to the hospital, which is also the same time that Y/N saw gojo being wheeled in the emergency room with a bullet in his head.

now that gojo is back, he can’t help but notice that y/n is avoiding him. she feels familiar but he plays it off over her being a close friend and possible lover of geto. meanwhile, y/n’s dedication to pretending he doesn’t exist breaks slowly when she sees sayori, a beautiful little girl who’s growing up, call mia as her “mommy.” it hurts her that she missed her first words, first steps, or that she’s being excluded in the family that is truly hers, but everyone is happy and doing great that she chooses to be the only who isn’t for the sake of everyone else.

in ch2, gojo goes to a carnival/amusement park and takes a polaroid photo with y/n. he finds them in one of the stuff he left behind in the penthouse he used to live in; shocked bcos y/n had been adamant they never met before. that’s when he begins to confront her on who she really is what they really used to be. he feels guilty that he can’t remember, but most of all, gojo is torn inside that y/n had been all alone the whole time when he promised he would be there.

its complicated for them since gojo x mia are already married, and sayori got her mom’s stubborness so its difficult for her to believe someone she never met before is her real mom and mia is...well, mia. mia actually helps sayori accept that she is not the real mom, apologizing to the child for lying to them and it ends up with sayori running away and getting lost for a few hours. sayori is scared since tokyo is alien to her and she doesn’t speak japanese, but when y/n finds her, she comes running to her arms and that is when she begins to soften up around her real mom.

this is where the slowburn with gojo and y/n begins. for them, getting to know each other once more on a clean slate is both refreshing yet scary, especially since one has erased the past in their mind and the other is desperately trying to forget it. the thing about the mia x gojo as a married couple and parents is that gojo deep down feels he does not love mia that way. he can’t explain why there’s just something missing or confusing in his life. he loves mia out of respect and friendship, but he would never admit that he is not in love with his wife. however, he plays it over the fact that its “just the broken memories” and lies to himself that he is very much in love with her. when he meets y/n again, however, it makes sense. he does love y/n and him forgetting her was a defense mechanism of his system to erase the most painful times of his life, and that included his guilt for hurting y/n with the abuse of his parents who controlled the way he acted around her. as for mia, she also does not love gojo and she probably never did, but for the sake of his well being and for sayori’s future (which was entrusted to her by y/n) she stayed with him. now though, mia knows its time to let go.

geto...it is not easy for geto. he loves y/n so much because of her tenacity and kindness, but he also loves her enough to know she is happier with someone else. to him, he’s content knowing that she felt less lonely when he was around and that he helped make her smile. in the end, geto has closure with y/n who apologizes for not returning his feelings.

NAOYAAAAA though...ofc i gave him a good ending 💕 after he was brutally rejected by Mia, y/n cheers him up by setting Naoya up with a law professor around his age, who is Ayame. Ayame is supposed to be named Suki tbh 😋 but I thought the self insert is a little too much so I changed it to Ayame. Ayame is pretty funny and even respects that Naoya is uncomfortable on the first date, telling him that it doesn’t have to be that kind of date and she doesn’t expect anything from him. Ayame’s bubbly yet blunt nature is a breath of fresh air from Mia’s secretive and perfectionist nature and the two become good friends. Naoya and Ayame end up hanging out a lot bcos “thats what friends do” but it doesn’t take long before they go out together. And ofc, Naoya is a little ashamed that Ayame was the first to confess and she beat him to it, but they get married and are happy nonetheless 💕 Mia ends up as a successful doctor who helps her family with the business, divorces Gojo, but she still has no plans to marry and is perfectly happy and content to focus on her career.

Eventually, Gojo and Y/N get married once everything is sorted out. Gojo becomes a well known model in Tokyo as well, and Gojo Group is absorbed by Y/N herself after proving Gojo’s father guilty of attempted murder. Gojo doesn’t want anything more to do with the corporate world though, but Y/N stays and kicks ass as a vice president to all the merged companies.

Y/N and Valeria also makes up after Valeria is indebted to Y/N who saved her life, and Valeria’s parents become more supportive and start to see Valeria more as a person than a child to inherit the business. Albeit being in her 40s, Valeria enjoys the youth she lost only now, but also enjoys being the grandmother to Sayori. Its a little awkward between Valeria and Y/N after everything that happened, but they’re trying and are even dubbed as the iconic motherly duo who is unbeatable in their games.

Gojo’s father is thrown into prison, and his main victim, his own wife, also shows recovery from the years of abuse. Although her obsessive control with Gojo and his sister (the eldest Gojo child) was not right, his mom was left with no choice but to keep them on close watch and control their lives because she was trying to keep them safe from their father’s wrath. In the end, Gojo’s mom makes up by being a better mother, and Gojo and his sister forgives her while also apologizing that both of them left home when they knew their mom always shouldered the abuse to protect her kids.

Overall, its a happy ending for most of the characters! the last chapter is Sayori’s wedding to Naoya and Ayame’s son, Naori, who is a few years younger than his bride. Gojo is grumbling to Y/N about how his little girl is all grown up now, and that their son, Shinichiro, who is 18 in that timeline is also maturing and would be leaving the nest soon. Y/N thinks its adorable and asks Gojo to just enjoy the union because its only one of the many great memories they would still have to make.

That’s how it would end! Gojo Best Dad and Gojo DILF. Everyone is happy!

Basically the theme of Reckless is that sometimes the most unexpected things we do out of character can end up as one of the greatest things to ever happen, which in their case was the suprise baby. They went through a lot and it has a lot of psychological themes, along with heavy family drama, but overall I wanted the series to be a heartwarming one by the end. I really would’ve loved to see it all happen but I am also happy to share it to you guys in this way.

So yeah, happy reading and thanks so much for supporting Reckless !! I was also thinking of doing maybe like a bonus chapter where the characters pretend it was all a movie and they’re actors that you can talk to, but that didn’t happen so :// anyways I hope you enjoyed this and thank you for reading up until here 💕

#asks with naoya's trophy wife #series: reckless #tw: abuse #sorry for the typos i wrote this on my phone without glasses lol

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aerialflight · 3 years

Text

Fic Rec (it's been too long and I read a whole lot of fics)

I've read so many fics these past couple of months and my need to share them to the world has seized me by the throat. Please enjoy and support these fanfic writers! They are the best. XD

[Naruto]

Nine-Tailed Foxes are Dead by RowlettLesbian

Ship: Shikamaru/Naruto

For Konoha, it's been one month since the preliminary Chunin exams. For Naruto, it's been six. And he wasn't in Konoha.

At the end of his ordeal, Naruto walks into the Chunin Exam finals without his left arm.

Shikamaru is very concerned. And, eventually, very precious to Naruto as they work together to solve the mysteries of Konoha and bring kindness to the Shinobi world, one adventure at a time.

(I would die for this fic. I know the summary sounds doom and gloom but IT'S NOT. This fic made me fucking cry, I don't think I've ever read a fic that characterized Naruto so right. He's so full of hope and love and develops into the best version of himself and I'm so HERE FOR IT. And it's not just Naruto, Shikamaru is absolutely amazing here along with Kakashi and surprise surprise Ino, I can't BELIEVE it took me this long to stumble across this fic. Also THE WORLDBUILDING IS TO DIE FOR!!! And the plot! Is! So! Interesting! Just, everything about this fic is just amazing so please PLEASE read this!!!)

The End of the Uchiha by RowlettLesbian

Ship: Naruto/Sasuke

“I promise, little electric spirit of this shrine,” he whispered into the soft dirt and fallen leaves, “I will never gain the eyes. I will never pass them on. And I will make sure the eyes end in my brother, so that they can’t hurt anybody anymore. I will be the last Uchiha, and see to the end of the Copy-Wheel Clan. Then all of the hatred here can stop, and my family can rest peacefully. I promise, little shrine.”

Sasuke is more than his brother thinks he is. He's more than any Uchiha has ever been. He will kill his brother, but it will not be vengeance.

It will be mercy.

(Same author as the one above, they are the gift that keeps on giving. Seriously, HOW did I NEVER FIND THESE FICS before now??? One of life's greatest mysteries. The author's sense of humor is so on point here along with the atmospheric writing that's so vivid in the mind. Their writing style is so recognizable to me now and makes me fall into the world they're creating, it's stunning. Sasuke here makes me want to hug him and the idea of him living like a feral ghibli character has me LIVING. Check the tags of the fic, all of it is true, hand to god. Please give all of the author's fics a shot, it's a rabbit hole I'm thankful I fell into!)

mil fantasmas (gritan en calma) by LegaciesandMemories

Post-Tsukuyomi, something in Uchiha Sasuke's mind shatters. The same night, Yamanaka Ino falls asleep and doesn't wake up for 15 days.

---

In which Ino and Sasuke both wake from the aftermath of the Uchiha Massacre with the ability to see ghosts, and no one is prepared for the fallout.

(This fic has arrested my curiosity and eagerness to know what will happen next. These poor kids need so many hugs and Ino is getting the spotlight she deserves. I am so excited for this fic and what it has in store! Please read! XD)

Lichtenberg Figures by Asteroid_Duck (JustThatOneGirl1815)

Name: Kakashi Hatake Rank: Jounin Status: Missing Nin Missing Since: June 15th, 271 AD Note: Flee on Sight . . . Haburashi looked his team in the eyes— three, fresh out of the Academy genin— and resolved to teach them as best as he could. And right now, his lesson was simple: “Stay. Away. From. Kakashi. Hatake.”

(Dimension travel fic with a slice of Kakashi being an absolute troll and dealing with the shitty hand he's been dealt with. Seriously, the man has the worst luck in all of Konoha. Also, the mystery of the other Kakashi's history has me leaning by the edge of my seat, I need to know.)

The Governess by Ysmirel

Ship: Kakashi/OFC

"“What,” he finally asked, “is so funny?”

Ibara bit her lower lip to keep the chuckles in, still smiling and making absolutely no effort to get more space between them, seemingly perfectly at ease within reach of a trained shinobi. Her self-control wasn't all that good, as she ended up snorting and was overcame once again by another fit of laughter. “I just- It's just-” She struggled to speak, trying to catch her breath and wiping away tears of mirth with the hand that wasn't still holding onto his vest. Finally, she looked him in the eye and said, with a smile that was all teeth and without a hint of her previous drunken stupor, “and who's going to believe you?”

As he stood there, stunned by her words and change in demeanor, he realized with dawning horror that she was right."

In which Kakashi finds himself at the other end of the troll shtick, and he doesn't appreciate it all that much.

(It's so hard to find self-insert fics with a fresh concept these days, especially in the naruto fandom. Not that I don't enjoy and devour a lot of self insert fics like it's going out of style, but it's just so nice to find something new and shiny and really damn good. I'm so pumped for this fic and how it's going to develop so please join me in rooting for this fic!)

half a league (until the valley of death) by SpectersShadow117

Kakashi can think of no reason for Sasuke's inexplicable and drastic change in behavior. He doesn't like the desperate, haunted gleam in his student's eyes, and he also doesn't like the nagging feeling that he's missing something very important. Aka: Future Sasuke goes to Past Sasuke and gives him a reality check with Specific Intentions, but as with most Uchiha, his methods leave much to be desired. (Featuring: Childhood trauma FTW, Konoha's shitty care of orphans, and absolutely no one having a fun time.)

(Sasuke wanting to change the future out of complete and utter spite has me LIVING. Sasuke is such a Mess here and the twist on the time travel premise is so good and the kid is so Traumatized and Desperate and Not Having A Good Time. Naruto and Sakura developing as better ninjas and Kakashi trying his best makes me want to scream. Also, how Sasuke thinks about Itachi makes me want to cackle. I am 100% down for this. I am rooting for this kid, go get them! XD)

[Harry Potter]

fruit loops in time (circle around me) by justprompts

Ships: Harry/Draco, Remus/Sirius

"This is Crabbe, and Goyle," the blonde boy says, pointing at the two boys next to him. "And I'm Malfoy, Draco Ma - "

Ron laughs, and Malfoy immediately bristles.

"Think my name's funny, do you?" Malfoy says, angrily. "No need to ask yours - "

"You're honestly so cute," Ron interrupts, yet again, shaking his head. "So tiny. And so angry, all the time. It's adorable."

Alternatively Ron Weasley, Time Traveller Extraordinaire, is stuck in the same seven year Hogwarts Loop, repeating the same thing over and over again. Naturally, he's so done with everything.

(This is the greatest hp fic I've ever read. I LOVE RON WEASLEY and by the time you read this fic SO WILL YOU!! This is the fic I WISH I have the ability to write. I read this entire fic aloud to my brother and we spent literal hours howling and talking about how utterly insane and incredible this fic is, it's amazing. This is hands down my favorite Ron Weasley. You Can Pry This Fic From My Cold Dead Fingers.)

[Boku no Hero Academia]

Kacchan's Cult by Ourliazo

Pro Hero Ground Zero is attacked, originally meant to be de-aged out of existence by a desperate villain but is instead launched into his 14-year-old self.

But Katsuki is a fucking pro so whatever, time to fuck up someone's day. And sure, maybe he's only one man, but that's why he conscripts the entirety of the UA student body into tearing down some criminal empires.

(It's time travel, crack, and Bakugou being his usual explody, competent self. What more in life do you want? Seriously though, please read. I'm obsessed with this fic and having a Good Time!)

Cleaning Crew; Teaching Kids to Value their Safety, for Fun and Profit by Reavv

Takenaka Hideo is a thirty-two year old, in mild desperation for money, who has just been hired as a new janitor for UA's support staff. He has a quirk that lets him find lost objects, a liaison with the police because of it, and desperate desire for competent co-workers.

Oh, and he's already lived a previous life, in a world where quirks and heroes didn't even exist.

Not a big deal, though. It's not like you ever see the janitor playing a big part in action movies. He's here to get paid, and that's it.

On the opposite side of the equation, class 1-A has to wonder at the new UA cryptid that always seems to show up when things are on fire, and who keeps trying to convince them to let the adults handle the fire extinguisher.

(A great deal of fun packed into one fic. That is how I title this fic and nothing will change my mind! Hideo just wants to quietly do his job and not get in the way. I Relate. Please read!)

Poltergeist by WriterGreenReads

Class 1-A is haunted.

Well, not really.

I AM dead, though.

World's friendliest poltergeist, at your service.

(I don't know how I got so sucked into OC fics, but I found some fantastic fics along the way so I have no regrets. The author really tries to push the premise and I just love all the interactions and dynamics that form as the fic gets further in. And the OC character and all the hijinks they get up to cracks me up! At the same time, it's pretty heartwarming and it's practically a friendships galore fic! Definitely recommend it!)

invincible by supercrunch for Engrin

Ship: Bakugou/Midoriya

This is the way the world works: the sun rises in the east. The strong come out on top. Bakugou Katsuki rockets through life like a comet and Midoriya Izuku stumbles after. If he believed in such things Katsuki would say it was written in the stars. That some god of war had looked at him and said this one. That he’d been passed along a line to get his blessings – genius, willpower, fearless ambition – and dropped off on earth.

Then, of course, there is the question of Deku. The spitfire runt. Deku, no matter what the world does to him, never stops hoping.

Until, of course, he eventually does.

(Katsuki broke him. Snapped him in half like a twig and now has to scramble to put Deku back together. “We can do this, Deku," he says slowly. "There are so many mysteries that never got put to bed. Criminals roaming around looking to hurt people and you and me, we can fix that.”

There’s a long pause. The comforter slips a little off Deku’s skinny shoulders and drowns him. “You mean like a team?”

In that split second, Katsuki makes a decision he’s never even considered. He swallows his pride. “Yeah, Deku. We’d be a team.”)

(If there was any other way canon could've gone, this is the story I would've wanted. It's perfect.)

Inadvertent Wilderness Therapy by Cacid

Following an unfortunate encounter with a teleporter on the last day of internships, Bakugou Katsuki and Hakamata Tsunagu spend some quality time in northern Canada.

In no particular order they will: build ugly survival shelters, stalk rabbits, run from polar bears, reflect on the chemical composition of trees, insult each other, and complain about krumholtz.

(THESE TWO. TOGETHER. IN THE WILDERNESS. IN FUCKING CANADA OF ALL PLACES. I still can't believe this fic actually exists and just how INVESTED I became in their relationship. Blue Jeanist instantly became my favorite ranked hero with this fic alone. HIS SENSE OF HUMOR IS TERRIBLE, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH FNIEWOPAF. BAKUGOU DOES TOO. IT'S FUCKING INCREDIBLE. *incoherent screeching into the wild*)

[Stranger Things]

Baci D'aria by RabbitDarling

“Love is worth the sum of itself, and nothing more.” ― Alice Hoffman, Practical Magic

Steve learned a lot at his Aunt's side before she passed but his favourite thing she taught him was baci d'aria; special little spells that you created from the heart and put into the food you shared.

In opening his heart and gifts to those around him Steve slowly finds himself a family in a way he never thought he'd get to experience. One by One he collects pre-teens to trail in his wake like ducklings and Steve can't even refute it by the time he realizes what has happened.

(This fic is so soft and Steve is just collecting people and winning them over with his magical food (literally). I am always a sucker for heartwarming, good for the soul fics so if you want to make yourself hungry and feel all warm and gooey inside, read this!)

(Don't Fear) The Reaper by TeaFourTwo

Ship: Steve/Billy

He looks down at the blood on his hands and on the floor and wonders why the memory hasn’t broken yet, why he isn’t back in Starcourt mall with control of his body again, wonders if he's even still alive at all. Is this hell then? Or perhaps purgatory? It certainly isn’t heaven, that’s for sure. None of this makes any sense…but then what's new—nothing in Billy’s life makes sense anymore.

Billy laughs then, loud and long and unhinged. It's the only sound in the whole house, and it bounces off the walls like a fucked up echo, like the world is laughing with him.

“Jesus christ you’re insane…” It’s Max’s voice and it’s shaking. It only makes Billy laugh harder, because Max has it all wrong. Billy isn’t crazy, it’s the rest of the world that’s insane.

Billy dies a hero of sorts. He wakes up back in his bed on Saturday morning, the third of November, 1984...nearly nine months earlier.

(Billy is stuck in a time loop and it's slowly driving him crazy. And the fic shows just how much influence Billy did have in the plot and how doomed the world is without him in it. Great character exploration with Billy's character and all the ways he's so messy and human. Definitely recommend it!)

[Knives Out]

The Road Less Traveled By by UisceOneLove

Ship: Marta/Ransom

If Harlan wants to leave Ransom to be on his own, fine. He'll show him just what Ransom Drysdale is capable of.

or, where Ransom chooses to prove his abilities through means of the non-homicidal variety and finds himself becoming exactly what Harlan was hoping he would.

(I found this fic out of sheer chance and god, Ransom is just, so fascinating to me as a character. Marta of course is the Best here and I will forever stan her. Seriously, this is such a good fic! Please read!)

[Haikyuu!!]

Sky Full of Stars by grilledsquids

The Hinatas are twins. They're practically identical.

But while Shouyou seeks out Karasuno's volleyball team to become the next Little Giant, Natsu is scouted to to play soccer for Shiratorizawa. While Shouyou sets his eyes on playing volleyball at the highest level possible, his sister wonders how much longer she can play soccer... and if it's worth it to keep going.

A Natsu-centric story featuring: Shiratorizawa VBC shenanigans, too many soccer OCs, mild teenage drama, a little bit of plot, and Semi Eita not knowing what a period is.

(It's just!! So cute and wholesome!!! The Shiratorizawa volleyball team is so fleshed out along with the OC characters for the girl's soccer team and I swear, it's been a long while since I've laughed this much at the sheer shenanigans that happen in a fic. It's surprisingly hard to find good gen fics in this fandom so finding this gem made me so happy! If you want a fic that brings a smile to your face, read this!!)

like water by speakingincode

Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says, and when Tooru looks at him, he can read My best friend’s an idiot off the crease of his eyebrows. “Are you telling me you spent the last three years weirdly obsessed with Kageyama – I still remember the time you made us play him on a dumb whim, you know – and now you’re at his beck and call? Are you okay? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m— I’m not at his beck and call! I said no last week. It’s… It’s like you said. I get bored easily. I saw him at the park a couple weeks after they played Nationals and called him a perfect little tyrant, and he pestered me into spending time with him after,” Tooru says. “I’m not a monster, Iwa-chan. If he wants the company of his cool, handsome ex-upperclassman that badly, who am I to begrudge him?”

Or: Oikawa doesn't know why Kageyama keeps asking to meet him on Saturdays. He also doesn't know why he keeps saying yes.

(The fact this fic is canon-compliant and covers post-canon too makes me want to shout to the heavens. Fucking incredible! One of the best Oikakage fics ever and it's a crime how it's not at the top of the ship tag. Please please read!!)

twist into your shape by kakkoweeb

Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama

The only thing better than sweets were sweets containing paper that told you whether your future would be good or bad--or in Kageyama and Oikawa's case, paper that somehow caused you to live inside each other's bodies.

(Everyone probably already read this fic but it needs to be said, you need to read this fic. How these two try and manage each other's lives and slowly start to care about one another is so beautiful and sincere and I am ready to wrestle anyone to the floor and comply them into reading this fic. Doesn't matter if you like the ship, you will become a fan if you read it, I promise. Please please read!!)

Take the Long Road Home by pepperfield

Ship: Kuroo/Sawamura

When Azumane Asahi goes missing before his engagement meeting with Kozume Kenma, what other option is there but for Daichi to impersonate his brother and fake his way through a first date with Asahi's fiance?

Okay, let's be realistic - there were probably at least four other options.

Unfortunately, Tetsurou couldn't come up with any of them either, so now he's here flirting with Kenma's future husband while trying to keep his web of deceit from collapsing.

It's going to be an eventful day.

(I got obsessed with this ship alongside Oikakage and SO WILL YOU. THE POTENTIAL. THE BANTER. THE FACT THEY'RE BOTH DORKS AND THE FIC HAS IDENTITY SHENANIGANS DANCING ALL OVER IT!! I had so much fun reading this and these two are MEANT TO BE FENIWPAF. If you don't see the potential of this ship, you will now.)

a misunderstanding a day keeps the boyfriend away by bartallen for betuls

Ship: Kuroo/Sawamura

Kuroo doesn’t fall in love hard and fast like many others do – he falls slowly, and very very softly. Most of the times he doesn’t even realise he’s in love with someone until it’s too late.

(Kuroo is the dumbest man alive and I've never related to someone so hard in my life. God help me.)

You like me. by roseknight

Ship: Daishou/Kuroo

Kuroo nearly lived a Daishou-free life, and sometimes he looked back and wondered how much better and how much worse that would've been.

(I didn't even know who Daishou was until I read this fic and now I can't unsee the potential this ship has. I'm a ruined woman and I regret NOTHING.)

Kings of the Road, Kings of the Universe by EzzyDean

Eight magical captains, one bus, an entire summer (and country) waiting for them.

What could possibly go wrong?

(The magic of friendship meets the magic of a summer road trip meets pure magic.)

(CAPTAIN SQUAD IS THE BEST SQUAD SOMEBODY PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SEND ME SOME CAPTAIN SQUAD FICS I AM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS SQUAD IT'S A PROBLEM AAAAHHHHHH!)

宿縁 : See You Soon by MissKiraBlue

Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama

Upon arriving at the train station of death, an impure soul is granted a second chance at life against his will. Reincarnating into the body of Kageyama Tobio, a 15-year-old boy who recently committed suicide. Tobio's soul will depart at death and the soul needs to slip in to replace it. If the soul's reformation succeeds, he’ll reenter the cycle of rebirth and regain the right to be reborn. He will have three months to accomplish this task.

“Even though you had enough of life,” the soul whispered into the void of the room, “you were still afraid to hurt your hands, Tobio.”

Afraid of giving himself a scar, if he survived.

He touched his pulse and grasped life and couldn’t help but pity Kageyama Tobio.

"You wanted to die and now I’m here making you live again," he whispered into the night.

(I'm not even exaggerating when I say out of all the fics in this entire goddamn, too long list, this is the fic I'm anticipating and heart eyeing the most. It's only starting, but I already cried on chapter fucking 2, the power of this fic, holy shit. The author also wrote the hq time loop Every Tomorrows series, which I have an undying love for and am full on praying for the day it updates, so you KNOW this fic will be just as good. (Anybody who hasn't read this series, where the hell have you been?? Read it!!) Just, everything about this fic hurts me and something in my chest just aches when I read this fic. Go into it blind with an open heart and I swear to you, it's going to change your life. I'm already calling it. Seriously though, please please read!)

[Crossover]

Learning to Fly by Asteroid_Duck (JustThatOneGirl1815)

Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia, Naruto

The number three hero is a walking (well, flying) contradiction in every sense of the word. This includes his teaching skills. Why had Tokoyami agreed to this internship again? Oh right. He’d thought he was actually going to learn something. …….remind him to never be so optimistic again. . . . OR, Kakashi Hatake is reincarnated as the pro hero, Hawks. Tokoyami Fumikage suffers as a result.

(The reincarnation fic I never thought I needed and it's so good!! I've never really paid attention to Tokoyami and this fic sent me headfirst into loving him. Their dynamic is so interesting and I just love how their relationship develops. Also, Kakashi trolling the poor kid made me cackle, it's great! Definitely recommend it!)

Si Vis Pacem by athenoot

Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia, John Wick

Everything has a price. That's what John has always known and will forever remember, even in death.

Which is pretty ironic considering his current circumstance.

Instead of a grown, scarred, weary body belonging to a man as cruel and broken as him, he's inhabiting a younger, smaller, unblemished one belonging to a child with strangely colored hair, and is living in what seems to be a superhuman society.

Well. May it never be said that John isn't a strategist. He can live with this. Maybe.

(Somewhere out there in the universe, he's certain he could hear the laughter of his enemies from beyond the grave.)

Or: John Wick is reincarnated as Midoriya Izuku. The world should probably watch its back.

(This should be one of the crackiest fics I've read in a while, but it's taken so seriously and I'm so HERE FOR THIS. John Wick being John Wick in a world of quirks and heroes is the GREATEST, honestly, he's so badass. Bakugou, I feel for you, you must be so fucking confused lol. Bakugou trying his best to be a good friend is one of the best things about this fic. Trust me, this fic will make your day, promise!)

A Girl's Mind is a Dangerous Place by clenastia

Fandoms: Naruto, Fairy Tail

Natsu wakes up in Sakura's body. It only gets worse from there. Also known as: In Which Natsu has No Idea what to do with Boobs.

(I binged this in two fucking days, I couldn't put it down. This fic reminded me why I liked fairy tail when I was younger and why Natsu is honestly such a great protagonist, god. And the fic does that thing, you know, the Thing where when two worlds collide, the characters struggle to acclimate and adapt to a completely another world with different rules and mindsets against their own. This fic is seriously one of the best when it comes to that aspect, it's incredible. I am going absolutely feral over here for this fic to update, I'm waiting in the wings, ready to pounce like a tiger, all the metaphors man. For the love of god, read this fic.)

Give me a landscape made of obstacles by Melise

Fandoms: Naruto, Natsume's Book of Friends

Kakashi Hatake isn’t who he says he is.

Because the truth is that he’s actually a youkai in disguise, a wolf spirit named Madara who stumbled across the Hatake clan during the Warring States Period. Intrigued by the shinobi he saw, he’d proposed a temporary alliance in which he would offer the clan protection in exchange for their teachings.

Decades later, Madara is surprised to find himself inadvertently summoned to Konoha by the last living member of the Hatake clan. Sakumo Hatake, who is mourning the recent deaths of his wife and stillborn child, doesn’t want to be alone anymore. So with his permission, Madara takes the place of Sakumo’s deceased son in order to watch over the last Hatake.

(Fusion in which the youkai of Natsume’s Book of Friends all exist in the Naruto world. No knowledge of Natsume’s Book of Friends required).

(Before this fic, I only had a very vague idea of what Natsume's Book of Friends was, and honestly, I still don't know much about it. But I didn't really need to know to get into this fic. I love the worldbuilding and the relationships Kakashi forms, both supernatural and mortal. I love how Kakashi's inhumane ways affect others around him, whether to stress them out or become used to the strange. You can go straight into this fic without knowing anything and absolutely still have a fantastic time. I definitely recommend this so please read!)

#Fanfiction #AO3 #Fic Rec #Fic Rec List #Naruto #Harry Potter #Boku no Hero Academia #Stranger Things #Knives Out #Haikyuu!!#Crossover #John Wick #Fairy Tail #Natsume's Book of Friends

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interact-if · 3 years

Photo

Taking the spotlight for Day 6... Lucirene!

Lucirene, author of An Angel’s Song

Latino Heritage Month Featured Author

In the forest of Bres an otherworldly sickness corrodes the soil and changes the creatures within. “A parting gift from the fallen angels” say the citizens of the Hyaku Region and the mark on your hand confirms it.

Though the scent travelling in the air is sweet and enticing everyone knows better than to get closer. But the mark, it pulses, it burns, the pain spreading as fast as the corruption of the forest does.

Your masters are calling, and it seems like this time you cannot escape them.

An Angel’s Song Demo | Author’s Ko-fi | Author’s Patreon | Read more [here]

Tags: dark fantasy, romance

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

Q1: So, tell us a little bit about the projects you’re working on!

I have so many, but the only one public is An Angel’s Song. It’s, more than anything, a story about grief, loneliness and overcoming it all while navigating a hostile environment and discovering long lost secrets about the Divine and about the MC’s country. That one is very cathartic for me to make because of the themes, I feel like I’m working through a lot of feelings I didn’t even realize I had by writing it.

The next one is also an IF and it focuses on comedy, adventure and character interaction. It’s supposed to be more lighthearted, more fun, but knowing me… I don’t know if it’ll stay that way. Basically, it goes: A Captain’s boat falls prey to the storms and the strange creatures living under the sea, and they and their crew end up washing ashore an icy, snowy country. I already have the main cast written down and they have so much synergy, it’s amazing.

And the last one I’ll talk about (a traditional novel) actually happens in the same setting as my second IF, but many, many years before, when their local deity/guardian was born. It’s more of a romance-fantasy than anything, a love story between a Goddess and a half-dragon, however it also showcases many of the situations the people had to navigate and face before their country could become the place you’ll see in my second IF.

Q2: What excites you most about using interactive fiction? What are some of the biggest challenges?

What I like most definitely is how much freedom we have as authors. Of course, one is constrained by one’s ability to code but I think, for the most part, we can do so many things, reach an entirely new level of immersion that would not be possible with a regular novel. It’s amazing how sometimes I’m reading something and get so into it, feel so connected to the MC I feel dread when they do, panic when they have to make a choice that will clearly impact a lot of people in their world. With IF you can really feel like you’re part of the story.

Another thing I like is being able to explore other paths with my writing. Like for example, what if the MC had done this instead of that? How would that have affected their relationships, their world state? Writing branches is a lot of work, especially because they could change so many things, but it feels oddly satisfying when you do decide to include them.

Challenges… Coding, mainly. I feel like a lot of new aspiring IF authors are a bit afraid of coding and I can understand that, especially since, had it not been for the help of the community, I would have taken way longer to actually start using Twine. Hopefully with time for resources come up and it becomes less daunting.

I don’t know if any other author feels the same way but, though I think branching is a blessing, it is also a curse. I can only write the same conversation so many times, I mean I know I’m writing it in different tones and sometimes with different results but it gets frustrating after a while because it feels like you’re stuck, like you’re not progressing at all.

Another one would definitely be finding a balance between reader interaction and just following your vision. Since it’s IF at times I feel like I have to meet a quota of branches or ways in which you can react, sometimes I also find it difficult to make the MC feel like a real person instead of a reader-insert. I’m working on that.

Q3: What has been something in your project you’ve had to do a weird amount of research for?

That’s a difficult one… I don’t know if I would consider it weird but I do tend to investigate a lot about fashion, especially when designing the main outfits of the characters. I spend hours trying to find out what colors were used back then, what they meant, who was allowed to use them. I have this little image with some palettes for kimonos depending on the season.

I also spend too much time coming up with names, especially for places. Like I look up names of places that already exist, what they mean, I try to investigate if the words that I want to use make sense, then I panic because I can’t find anything, but I think that’s usual for writers. I also spent more time than necessary researching for the name of a tree that you will see way later in the book, which no one will probably notice what the name of the tree means or what it symbolizes but it makes me happy.

Honestly, I feel like the amount of research I have had to do has not been particularly weird? If anything at times I think I should research more, even if some aspects of Japanese culture will not apply to Kyou.

Q4: Which of your characters is most like you? How?

The initial version of the MC from An Angel’s Song, which I miss dearly since they had more personality. They were autistic coded too, and I hope some traces of that still remain. Apart from that I feel like all of the characters from the main cast share something with me, even if their experiences are, of course, more dramatic than my own.

A lot of them have issues with a paternal figure or an absent mother, which also resonates with me. Some of Saori’s traits draw inspiration from ways in which I talked or acted before I became a little better at masking, before I became more self-aware. Hazuki being emotional and caring, K being a bit clingy but devoted, Masa having a temper yet loyal, Miwa being friendly but reluctant to open up beyond surface level information. I think those things describe me.

There’s also Rei but I don’t think I’m writing her book anytime soon. She’s someone that’s very family oriented, she’s a bit temperamental but she means well and she’s not afraid to speak her mind. Now that I think about it, maybe Rei is more the person I want to become.

Q5: Does your heritage influence your characters as you create them? (How? Why or why not?)

I’ve been living in Venezuela my whole life so I think so, even if most of the time I don’t even notice it. I believe that this happens especially in regards to relationships because people in Venezuela are very family oriented and also, from what I’ve experienced, they form strong bonds with their neighbors, which creates this strong sense of community —sometimes it goes well, sometimes it doesn’t, but my mom and her friends always make at least some friends in their neighborhoods and they gossip with some coffee about the happenings of the rest—. So when it comes to writing a character it is very important to me to make an emphasis on family relationships because those are a strong part of my culture, of my identity.

In An Angel’s Song you have the main cast having issues or conflicting emotions about one or multiple members of their family, which influence their behavior and their outlook on life, but for the most part they are (or will be) able to form similar relationships with people that are not related to them, or to work towards restoring that relationship, transforming it into something healthier.

In my other books family dynamics are also immensely important. For example, I’m going to mention Rei again because I love her. So, Rei has a sister named Rin, and they are both very close, even if they haven’t spent much time together. Their bond and trust in each other helps them overcome a lot of obstacles and they rely on each other when they need support or encouragement. Rei also has other people that she thinks of as siblings, and restoring that relationship with them is one of her main goals. There’s also this recurring guilt she feels at leaving her birth family and her home to explore, because to her, families are supposed to stay together.

Another aspect that I think influences my writing is religion, even if I wasn’t raised in a particularly religious household nor do I belong to any religion. Religion is a big deal in this country, we have so many events and holidays relating to religious figures. I remember when I was very young I loved going to one of the churches here because the Virgin of that town had a building filled with pretty clothes to dress her with.

So, in that vein, I try to think about the character’s relationship with religion, do they believe in the Gods? Do they trust them? Do they follow local deities or prefer the main pantheon? How does this religion shape the way people interact with each other and the world? In regards to characters that are Venezuelan or Venezuelan-coded… I do have a few that are Venezuelan, but I don’t think I’m going to be releasing their stories soon, so I’ll keep it quiet for now.

Q6: What is something you love to see in interactive fiction?

People being passionate about their work! This isn’t something exclusive to IF, but it is something that I love seeing. I also like seeing the different ways people innovate within the genre. I feel like sometimes, especially with newer writers, there is this idea that an IF has to subscribe to a specific format and that’s simply not true. If you don’t want to use a stat system you don’t have to, if you want to add combat then go ahead, if you would prefer to write an MC that’s already pretty pre-established (which is something that I personally want to try) then there’s nothing stopping you and I encourage you to give it a go. IF is very versatile and it’s wrong to try and fit authors into a box, especially if they want to bring something new into our little corner of the internet.

Q7: Any advice to give?

In general, I advise people to have fun writing, to not worry so much about how good it is, about if people will like it. Writing, at the end of the day, ends up being a pretty solitary activity and having those thoughts in your head too long will make you spiral. Be kind to yourself, be open to feedback when it comes (and learn to distinguish constructive feedback from destructive feedback) and enjoy the exploration of your world and characters.

You are not alone in all of this. If you can, join a group of writers you can talk with, exchange ideas, get feedback from or just exchange memes (the ultimate bonding experience). Don’t be afraid, you’re not alone.

#if: events #latino heritage month #latino authors #interactive fiction #cyoa #choose your own adventure #choose your story

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empressapprentice · 3 years

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spooky arcana fanfic recs!

hello all! I realized that several of my favorite fanfictions for the Arcana fit the ~Halloween vibe~ and are very appropriate for spooky season. I thought I’d share my top recommendations (in alphabetical order) here. I’d love for people to add to this list--I definitely missed when the Arcana fandom was most active and I’m sure there’s a lot of really good writing that slipped my notice.

An important disclaimer: the usual warnings about not reading smutty content if you’re below 18 apply here. I also want to note that I tend to like pretty intense things. I have very few issues with gore/body horror/psychological stuff so I am really encouraging anyone who wants to read these fics to make sure you read the tags. (You can also feel free to message me and I can answer specific questions.) No noncon or dubcon here, though! Mostly just intense physical and psychological trauma.......plus smut.

Buried in Lilacs by ElizabethMarlowe: This one is basically an Asra character study, and it is fantastic. It starts off with a seemingly simple premise (MC touches herself in bed next to Asra), and the situation plays out as expected. Then it takes a sharp veer into nightmarish horror. Gorgeously written, you can really feel Asra’s emotions in this one. This is a oneshot and I am crossing my fingers that the author will write more for the Arcana because they truly have a gift. I’m extremely picky about my Asra content and this is perfect.

Destiny of Prey (series) by levrispero: This is (currently) a two-part series, plus a short interlude about Muriel, where MC is a vampire. It is modeled after What We Do In the Shadows rather than other, more “classic”, vampire content. This one is getting (slow, but regular) updates after it was abandoned for a year. Part one is two chapters of a back alley hookup between Julian and MC. It can definitely be skipped if smut isn’t your thing. The second part has one chapter of smut, which is clearly labeled and can be skipped as well. I love the world that the author has created here. It is also full of references to vampire media, from Twilight to Buffy. It is genuinely funny and fun to read, but isn’t just a crackfic. There’s a clear plot which borrows from canon but modifies it to fit the AU. I genuinely get excited when I see the author upload another chapter. This one is definitely the most accessible on my list and I highly recommend it.

How sweet is the affection of others to such a wretch as I am by SoftEigentlich: Another oneshot, which imagines what would happen if Julian was the one to bring the apprentice back to life with science, Frankenstein-style. I worship at the altar of Mary Shelley, so it was inevitable that I would love this. Julian’s lost the plot in this one. He’s ravaged by guilt and obsessed with saving the apprentice. He is so in love with you--it’s romantic and sickening at the same time. If you’re squeamish, do not read this one. Also fair warning: it’s basically a reader-insert, but you’re a corpse most of the time. So if you think that would make you uncomfortable, proceed with caution or skip it. But it’s one of my favorite fanfics of all time. (Also peep my convo with the author in the comments!)

In This Wretched World (series) by @teeth-farie: This is a collection of three birblian fics. Two of the three stories in the series are monsterfucking smut, but there’s attention to detail in them that I really appreciate. I grew up with a pet bird, and there’s aspects to Julian’s monstrous form in these fics that I can recognize as bird-specific behavior. I’m actually not a big monsterfucker (I joke that I only like monsters when they’re 95% human, like a vampire), but I will gladly make an exception for things that I feel really show off an author’s talent. And while the two smutty fics do not skimp on the sexy stuff, they’re actually very sweet and focus on the love and connection between MC and Julian. Part two of the series has no actual smut (just implied sex) and offers a glimpse into Julian’s psyche while he is transforming into a monster in the Hanged Raven. Really heavy and potentially triggering themes in that one. Proceed with caution, especially if discussions of suicide bother you. I want to emphasize that it’s written very well though! Also check out teethfarie’s other works--they’re great. This series is the most Halloween-y to my weird little self, but there’s horror (and sex) abound on their page.

#i'm low key self conscious about sharing this because y'all are gonna see how much i like fucked up stuff #but we're all weird here!#and i want to make sure I'm regularly hyping up people that I think really deserve it #the arcana #The Arcana Game #the arcana fanfic #fanfic recommendation #spooky szn #tw gore #tw body horror #suicide mention #tw death #ask me if i need to tag anything else please

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lambourngb · 3 years

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day 1 who do you think you are - character recs

Creator’s Week 2021 for @roswellnewmexicocreate - Day 1 : Character Recs

This is my favorite fandom event, and my third year doing it. The last year was really difficult, and fanfic more than ever was my escape from it. Shout out to all the writers, commenters, and lurkers who kept fandom going during it.

Rosa Ortecho:

heal it or break it all apart by @adiwriting : (7,600) All Rosa’s ever done is break things. Her entire life she’s destroyed everything she’s ever touched. So it’s really no surprise when she comes back that her powers do the same. Alternatively- 4 times somebody tries to get Rosa to seek help with her powers and one time she decides to help herself. GEN

why i like it: I pretty much love whatever Britt writes, but in the light of how season 3 is going, I found myself returning to this fic more than a few times. She really captures the fierce but vulnerable Rosa in this beautifully.

Kyle Valenti:

at every occasion i’ll be ready for a funeral by @bydayornight (1,330) Kyle goes on a vacation after the events of 3x04 and meets an unlikely beach companion. GEN

why i like it: Christine has become one of my new favorite writers, and has been a season 3 coda writing machine. Here is where we all would like Kyle to be - lounging on a beach without a care in the world (with that RNM twist! lol) She also does a brilliant job with the Kyle and Michael vibes here.

Maria Deluca:

Butter(bar)flies by @andrea-lyn (4,447) When all of Maria’s people fly away for new opportunities, she needs to find new ones. The lost decade and what should have been. MILUCA

why i like it: Manda has written some of my favorite stories, and even has dragged me into Ted Lasso, but this little lost decade AU is one of my favorites. She captures the flirty vibe of season 1 Michael/Maria, and inserts it into a time when it really makes sense to me for that a friends-with-benefits-relationship should have begun, to give weight to a choice for Michael. Maria is wonderfully characterized here, and it really makes it clear how a real love triangle should have been structured.

Liz Ortecho:

heart of lightning (a roswellian tale) by @bitch-ass-aliens (20,095) When Ser Elizabeth Ortecho of the Roswellian Court is sent by Queen Isobel to retrieve the heart of the missing King Maxwell from a fearsome lightning dragon guarding it, she knows success could bring her one step closer to completing a quest of her own. Ten years ago, a mage named Ophiuchus curse her sister with eternal slumber, and Liz has been searching for him ever since. Saving the king could be the key to learning Ophiuchus's true identity and saving Rosa. But the dragon is not what it appears to be. Soon Liz finds herself needing to guard her heart from feelings forgotten long ago as she and her friends journey back to Roswell, King Max by their side, with more than just the fate of Rosa hanging in the balance. For Ophiuchus's plans are bigger and more dangerous than any of them realize. ECHO

why i like it: This was part of the RNM Big Bang last year and as a fellow participant, I did my best to read and feedback the other submissions, which meant reading something that wasn’t Malex 😂🤯 - suz made it easy, writing a beautifully detailed medieval AU that retold the story of Rosa, Noah, and Max’s S1 sacrifice, through the amazing POV of Ser Liz. This story had everything I love about Liz- her devotion to her family, her bravery in doing hard things, and her love for Max.

Max Evans:

highway to the sun by @angsty-nerd (22,236) Noah’s heart is failing, and Max is on the verge of death. His final wish is to see Liz one last time, so he and Michael road trip to Los Angeles so that Max can say his goodbyes. ECHO

why i like it: Another part of the 2020 RNM Big Bang - Instead of a focus on Liz in this Echo story, we’re deep in the psyche of Max Evans, who is trying to tie up loose ends before he dies. I love the atmosphere of the road trip, the sadness of the clock that Max is trying to run out, and the whole Michael/Max brotherly bond in this story. It’s got all the sweet elements of some of my favorite romantic dramas - like “Beaches” or “Dying Young”, but mixed with the sci fi of RNM. Even though it was written pre-season 3, I really love how it ties up season 2 here.

Alex Manes:

i’m just like my mother, we both love to run @meneatyoghurt (5,211) After what his dad does, he runs and runs and runs. A look at Alex's relationship with running, from track and field to leaving Roswell. MALEX IMPLIED

why i like it: Alex is one of my favorite characters on RNM, mostly because of how hard he tries in spite of his flaws. I love a good story that focuses on why it’s a struggle for Alex to be present, and doesn’t shy away from the fallout of his actions. This is a gorgeous look into Alex and his tendency to run to feel safe, and how that affects his relationships, and why he wants to stop. I just have a lot of feelings about Alex, especially after reading this.

Michael Guerin :

looking for yourself out there by @haloud (6,670) It’s early; it’s a weeknight. Michael can only be here to get blasted or for Marco himself, and both of them know it.It’s been a while since this was a game, for Michael. The flirting he did with Maria was something else, a class all her own. Sex, and the lead up to sex, for the longest time was either life-or-death or it was a helpless, hopeless lashing out for any human contact. (It was either Alex, or it was Maria, or it wasn’t.)So this is nice. MICHAEL/OTHER

why i like it: I privately think hal understands Michael Guerin like no other, and their fic is just a delight for anyone who wants to look under that macho cowboy exterior to see him. One of the things we both agree on as Michael Guerin fans, is that Alex is not the male exception for Michael. And while the show will probably never deliver a Michael/OMC storyline like they have with Max/Jenna, Isobel/Blair, Liz/Heath, Alex/Forrest - that’s what fanfic is for and this story is so satisfiying. If you don’t come away from this story loving Marco and wishing he was real... I don’t know what to tell you. I was so inspired by it, I wrote my own Michael/OMC story.

Isobel Evans:

future starts slow by @foramomentonly (4,799) The bartop is sticky, but Maria's skin is clean and soft.This is how it starts. Brushes of fingers as Maria passes over a glass of wine; her cool, dry hand cupping Isobel's wrist as she reads her palm; Isobel's fingertips pressed to Maria's temples, wisps of curls caught around her knuckles as they practice combining their powers. MARIBEL

why i like it: It’s just facts that Maria and Isobel have incredible chemistry, their banter is off the charts, and I love this sexy story of Isobel approaching Maria for more after they’ve been circling each other for a while. It’s a gorgeous look at two strong women who very rarely let down their guards, but for each other, they do. The sex is really hot, but I think what lingers most with me is how this story rewards the swan dive of hope, Isobel after a lifetime of “being who she should be” becomes who she wants to be, a woman who loves fiercely but not destructively. Of course, Maria is no wilting flower here, which makes it all the sweeter.

If you like any of these recs, please leave a comment on the story- a ‘this was awesome’ is enough to propell an author into the stratosphere with happiness, so don’t worry about coming up with a unique, never before shared insight- sometimes a keyboard smash and emogi makes all the difference!

#rnmcreate21 #character recs day 1 #maribel #rnm-echo #gen recs #fanfic recs #roswell new mexico #RNM

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katsukisblackteddy · 3 years

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The Warrior Queen & Her Pharaoh: Part I

Part I: In the Beginning

In honor of Black History Month (that’s coming up), and because I’m a nerd for mythology of any type, I thought it would be fun to write about one of my favorite time periods, Ancient Egypt.

We didn’t really get to spend much time on them in school, and I love learning about these powerful Egyptian gods, goddess, pharaohs, and queens.

So N E ways...ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 400 FOLLOWERS...um WTF ILY <3

I TOOK SOME CREATIVE LIBERTIES (all characters are 18+ in this)

Pairings: pharaoh!god! Bakugou x warrior!princess! Reader Warnings: cursing, disrespectful people, bad bitch Mitsuki Description: Before the new pharaoh can be officially crowned, he must wed. You, the queen of a large warrior tribe called, The Zodos Tribe, are in the same position...the only problem? The future pharaoh is a bit of an ass.

*Extra info: this is written in third person so even though this is a reader insert, I’ll be writing it as if you’re another character so basically no me/my*

and yes, I’m aware it is kinda short and Bakugou isn’t in it that much, but it’s to set the scene lol...I promise there will be a lot of Bakubitch content in the next part

**Tag List is at the bottom**

𓂀 PART I 𓂀 PART II 𓂀

The arid air and blazing sun didn’t make for the most comfortable environments, and yet many people called the desert home.

In a secluded river valley lived the Zodos Tribe, the most fearsome warriors throughout the land, known for their brutality and unmatched strength. Though to (y/n), they were her family and her people.

Princess (y/n), the eldest of seven children, sat in the ornate palace that overlooked the main river. She had recently been crowned the queen of her people after her father chose to abdicate the throne. Her attendants sat around her while others waved large palm leaves, blowing the dry air in an attempt to make it cooler.

“(y/n), ready your belongings! You are to depart with your father within the hour.” The 18 year old turned seeing her mother’s slim form approach her.

Eshe was the personification of grace, similar to her only daughter, though she was taller. Her smooth dark skin glittered in the sunlight and her golden eyes searched her daughter’s face for any signs of backtalk before a content look crossed her face when (y/n) simply sighed and nodded.

“We readied her belongings already, Queen Mother.” (y/n)’s attendant, Subira, answered as she bowed upon her entrance to the room.

“Very well.” Eshe nodded, her snake like eyes shifting from her daughter and her servants to the landscape. “Go ready yourself. You are to meet royalty, Girl.”

“I am royalty, Mother.” (y/n)’s tone was laced with boredom as she stood from her seat. “What’s so special about these royals I am to meet, anyways?”

“That is not my place to tell.” She replied before pushing her daughter towards her room and into the large bathroom. The cool stone rubbed against her warm skin as (y/n)’s attendants unrobed her and bathed her while two others released her hair.

Some time later, the teen was redressed and her hair had been braided again, this time with decorative gold beads and thread woven into her thick dark hair. She had been dressed into a white sleeveless sheath dress, over that a sheer white and gold kalasiri tied in place with a gold and intricately beaded sash. A wide beaded collar was secured around her neck, brightly colored stones and metals woven and set into the necklace.

(y/n) slid on a new pair of reed sandals after Subira had finished her makeup, the dramatic black liner around her almond shaped eyes made the golden hue that she had inherited from her mother shine in the light. “Let us depart.” (y/n) motioned to her ladies as they nodded, following after her as the teenage queen adjusted the heavy silver and gold bracelets around her wrists.

“You look like a true queen, (y/n).” Her mother said as (y/n) walked past the room she had once been in.

“Thank you Mother. I will be off now.” (y/n) called back, not waiting for a response before walking out of the palace and towards her royal chariot where her father stood talking to one of the servants.

“Prepare the chariots.” Her father’s deep voice commanded as the servants nodded running off to get the large chariots ready for the journey. (y/n)’s father turned to look at her, his dark brown eyes looking her over once before smiling. “You look beautiful, Daughter.”

“Thank you, Father.” (y/n) smiled back as the servants ran back over stating that the chariots were ready to go.

(y/n) didn’t ask many questions of her father, mainly because she didn’t really care where they were going, though butterflies seemed to fill her stomach when the large palace in the capital city came into view as they crossed over another dune.

“Your mother asked me to remind you of your manners and your station before we left.” (y/n)’s father told her, as the girl sighed and rolled her eyes. Her father chuckled at her reaction before the pair stepped off of their chariots and were met by royal attendants from the palace.

“King Nafi, Princess (y/n), please follow me to the throne room. The Pharaoh and Great Royal Wife, are eager to converse.”

“I am a-” (y/n) didn’t finish her sentence, feeling her father’s strong hand come down on her shoulder before he stepped forward and followed the attendant up the stairs and inside the large palace, leaving (y/n) to catch up.

“Stupid man. I’m a queen.” (y/n) mumbled to herself as she followed the men into the throne room.

The teen stood beside her father, her eyes gazing over the two royal figures in front of her. One was a man with dark hair and dark eyes. A woman sat beside him, her hair ash blonde and her eyes a crimson color. They were both dressed lavishly as the woman sighed, mumbling something to her husband, before offering a smile to (y/n).

“I am sorry. My son seems to be unable to be found.” She told the girl who simply nodded before giving her father a look.

“(y/n), why don’t you walk the grounds? I have business to attend to with the Pharaoh and Great Royal Wife.” (y/n)’s father brushed her off, shooting her a look before practically pushing the girl towards the door.

“He doesn’t even have any power anymore! How dare he treat me like this. Why the hell did I even come if I’m not sitting in on the business? This is so stu-” (y/n) ranted to herself, not realizing where she was walking before she bumped into something...more like someone.

“Watch where you’re going, Extra!” The boy’s gruff voice said, his tone laced with venom as his red eyes glared down at where she sat after being knocked over.

“Oh get off your high horse! You can’t talk to me that way! I’m a Queen!” Her eyes finally landed on the boy’s face, his ash blonde hair wild and spiky as his crimson eyes seemed to darken and narrow.

He didn’t wear full linens, only enough to cover his lower half, leaving his chest exposed. His skin was tanned from spending most of his time in the sun and a thin shine of sweat covered his muscles as if he had just been doing some type of physical activity before they had bumped into each other.

“Well here you aren’t.” The boy told her before scoffing and walking off down a corridor, not even bothering to help (y/n) up.

“Sorry. It was nice to meet you though.” A spiky redhead said with a small closed-mouth smile. He had been following the rude blonde along with another blonde male, a dark haired male, a pink skinned girl, and a dark haired girl.

The group of teens were about to say something else to the girl when the explosive blonde from earlier could be heard yelling, “Kirishima, I didn’t allow you to socialize!”

“Uh r-right. Bye!” The red haired boy said before they all disappeared down the expansive hall.

“What a jerk.” (y/n) scoffed thinking back to the ash blonde. Getting up and dusting her hands off, she continued to walk around the halls.

The black girl returned back to the throne room after some time, having gotten lost though she was too proud to ask for help from one of the many servants scurrying around.

“Ah, you’ve arrived just in time for dinner, (y/n).” The blonde woman spoke, gesturing towards a large open room that overlooked the river, a large table filled with food sat in the middle.

“I apologize.” (y/n) said simply before taking a seat where the blonde woman had gestured, unfortunately across from that annoying boy from earlier. “Where is my father? My servants?” (y/n) wondered after a moment of silence, noticing that the people in question were missing.

“They’ve left some time ago.” She answered. “This is your new home after all.”

“Excuse me?” (y/n) and the blonde boy had the same reaction, choking on their food with wide eyes.

“Yes, your father never told you of the agreement?” The brown haired man asked.

“Agreement?” She repeated.

“Yes, you are to marry our son in two days time. It’s been arranged since before you both wore garments.” The blonde woman said with a small laugh.

(Fun fact: Ancient Egyptian children didn’t wear clothes until they were six years old, so they ran around naked except for the jewelry they wore)

“Him?”

“Her?”

“Show some respect to her Katsuki! She is to be your wife!” The woman said, slapping the boy’s head quickly causing (y/n) to smirk and laugh lightly.

Katsuki didn’t like that very much, glaring at the golden eyed girl with a low growl.

“Mitsuki, Katsuki...” The man started to say softly, flashing at smile at (y/n).

“You’re right Masaru. If only our son wasn’t such a brat.” Mitsuki sighed, slapping Katsuki again before going back to her food.

“I am the Pharaoh, you can’t treat me that way!” Katsuki protested, angrily cutting his meat.

“What was that?” Mitsuki questioned, her red eyes narrowing as she shot a warning look at her son.

“Nothing.” Katsuki mumbled, his eyes narrowing into a glare at the black girl across from him.

What a dick. What did my parents get me into? (y/n) thought to herself as she stared back at the boy across from her.

Tag List: (Let me know if y’all wanna be added. Just send me a message)

@bakugous-mamas

TAGS:

#katsukisblackteddy #pharaoh bakugou #warrior princess reader #bakugou x black reader #ancient egypt au #bnha x poc!reader #bnha x black reader #in honor of black history month coming up #ancient egypt #TWQ&HP Mini Series #i don't know how many parts I want to write for this yet #black history month 2021 #mha x black reader #mha x poc!reader #pls i love mitsuki

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yongtxt · 4 years

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turn back time [taeyong]

word count: 6.2k words

characters: amnesiac!taeyong x girlfriend!reader ft. doyoung

genre: angst [meant to be just melancholic so no crying !]

warnings: few mentions of a car crash and some wounds. taeyong suffers from amnesia. it’s a couple trying to learn how to love again.

author’s note: yesterday was my first year anniversary here on tumblr and i give you a short angst fic of the first nct member i wrote for as a present. anyway. i need a break from angst after this also i need to stop writing people getting hurt/wounded???? [stream turn back time by wayv later <3] / unedited

Taeyong awoke to harsh fluorescent lighting filling his vision, a throat so dry it could compare to a desert, and the muffled cries of his lover.

His arms ached, muscles extremely sore that it hurt him to even lift his limb. He wanted to reach out to you, to run his fingers through your hair, and to tell you that everything was gonna be okay—he would work it out with you, together.

You had Taeyong’s hospital gown clutched in your hands, soaking the fabric with your weeping. WIth your face buried into his blanket, it took you a second to realize that your boyfriend had already woken up from his deep slumber. Your cheeks flushed at his intense gaze, dropping your hold on him almost immediately as if it was hot to touch.

“You’re awake!” You exclaimed, voice cracking. Fumbling to wipe your tears, you scrambled to your feet. “Let me grab some food, okay? You must be hungry.”

Taeyong did his best to shake his head, “No, you don’t have to. Please just stay beside me.”

A beat passed and you could only stare at him. The hesitance you exuded didn’t pass unnoticed, you sat back on the stool beside him and stayed tight-lipped. Taeyong sighed through his nose, a bubble of nervousness growing in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t even look you in the eye, his attention darting everywhere but to you.

“How are you feeling? Do you think you can move better now?” You asked, soft and wary—afraid of what his response would be and he didn’t like the sound of it not one bit, but he didn’t let it show.

“I can move my head better than yesterday.” Taeyong pointed out, craning his neck enough to prove it to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your face and his chest floods with an unfamiliar warmth. He added, “My joints just hurt since I’m kept on bed rest all day.”

“Well, you’re getting released tomorrow.” You said, subconsciously outstretching your hand to brush off the fallen lock of his hair from his forehead. He blushed at the contact of your fingertips and you immediately retracted it back. “Uh, your doctor wanted me to tell you that you should start walking around again if you can to avoid using crutches.”

“I’ll try to go for a walk tonight.” He nodded his head, staring at his lap as if it was the most fascinating thing in the room. “Can you help me drink some water?”

“I’m sorry, of course.” Your cheeks reddened the same way his were, fumbling to punch in a straw inside a bottle of water as you propped it up for him to sip on. Of course he was thirsty, he had been asleep for almost half the day.

Your fingers were trembling, he noticed. Before he could point it out, the door slammed open and you were forced to draw away his drink. You haven’t been told of anyone visiting so it came as a surprise to see your boyfriend’s childhood best friend panting in the doorway, holding himself up on the frame while he gawked at Taeyong’s wounded form.

Bruises of varying sizes littered across Taeyong’s pale skin and a bandage was wrapped around his forehead, his bleached hair peeking out from the bloodied cloth. A large gash can be seen trailing along his jawline and although it had been healing nicely, a mark remained. He had dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks were sunken from fatigue and a lack of nutritional intake, much like you.

He didn’t look well, Doyoung thought with a pitiful gaze Taeyong was already too familiar with.

“Aren’t you gonna come in?” Taeyong chuckled, grinning at Doyoung who frowned at him. He rushed to his side and mindlessly took him into an embrace, cradling his bandaged head into his shoulder. You felt hot tears pool into the corners of your eyes but you blinked them away before they could see.

He berated him, the way he always would when Taeyong got himself into trouble that could’ve been easily avoided if he would just think straight. The blizzard, Doyoung kept bringing it up, he shouldn’t have driven when the weather was too dangerous.

“I’ll try to remember that next time.” Taeyong said, reassuring him before Doyoung could burst into tears. He wouldn’t know how to handle him if he got too emotional, he doubted you’d be able to.

“Why were you driving, anyway? What was so important that you had to risk your life to travel?” Doyoung huffed and you rose from your seat from instinct, about to insert yourself into their conversation when Taeyong grasped your fingers.

You stared at him and you were suddenly reminded that he must’ve put himself in pain to stop you. You sat back down and he smiled, he wanted to say it himself and you could only respect his wishes. You hadn’t been able to inform Taeyong’s friends about his car crash as it had been only a week since it happened, all of your time was spent tirelessly tending him back to health. You didn’t have the time to share the unfortunate news.

“Apparently, I was on my way back to Seoul from visiting my family.” Taeyong said, gently grazing your skin away from his best friend’s sight. At Doyoung's confused knot on his forehead, he continued, “My mom told me that they couldn’t make me stay because it was the night of my anniversary with my girlfriend.”

“Taeyong, why are you talking like that—”

“The doctor said I hit my head on the steering wheel pretty badly.” Taeyong laughed mirthlessly, and you subconsciously squeezed his hand. “Bad enough that my memory got a bit fuzzy. Retrograde amnesia, I think that’s what they called it.”

Doyoung blinked, lips gaped at Taeyong who only smiled at him. He looked up at you, a sudden onslaught of anxiety coursing through him that you could just see him almost shake in worry. He whispered to you, “Amnesia? How far back can he remember?”

You bit your lip, turning away and loosening the grip you had on Taeyong’s hand, but he held it tighter with a strength you were sure he was only forcing. You said, “The beginning of third year in college.”

“What?!” Doyoung choked on his spit, leaping from his seat in shock. You offered him an unopened bottle of water but he shook his head. “You’re already a working man, Taeyong! We graduated two years ago, man!”

You did your best to calm Doyoung down, much to Taeyong’s appreciation. You knew where his emotions were coming from so you had to explain why it happened in a manner he would understand. You said that the blizzard was so strong that the roads had iced up and due to the speed he was driving, the car had slipped and crashed into a tree. He hit his head and the sheer impact caused trauma to his brain and made him lose his memories.

The doctors diagnosed him with retrograde amnesia, a form of memory loss that occurs from a traumatic brain injury. It prevented Taeyong from remembering what happened prior to his accident. His recovery was supposed to be gradual, it will take time for him to regain the memories he had lost but it wasn’t assured.

Taeyong doesn’t like telling what happened because people’s first reaction to his amnesia was to resort to aggression. As if their anger and frustration could magically make him remember what he had lost. You didn’t think of it that way, on one quiet night you told him that maybe it was just their desperation to bring him back to the person he was.

He thought it was selfish of them, but you kept your lips shut and refused to tell him that losing two years was a big deal to some people. Although he was still himself, quirks and habits are the same as you’ve first witnessed them, little aspects of him were different; some just different enough that others would do a doubletake to make sure it was really him. The person he is now just wasn’t exactly the person he used to be.

A slightly-off Taeyong, he grimly made a joke about.

You wanted to reassure him, comfort him that he didn’t need to try so hard to be who he used to be. You know despite all of his nonchalance and soft smiles, he was hurting. He instilled it in himself that he disappointed his loved ones by being a person they weren’t accustomed to. But you couldn’t, you weren’t in the place to when his last memories of you were when you have only first met during the anthropology class in your third year of college.

“God, that means you can’t even remember your own girlfriend.” Doyoung mumbled, mostly to himself but you heard it clearly enough as if he personally made it a point to stomp on your heart. Taeyong frowned.

“Shut it, Doyoung.” You grumbled, tears threatening to spill again. You and Taeyong have been so emotionally exhausted that having another person in the hospital room usually would lift both of your spirits, but Doyoung proved himself to be a disturbance instead.

Hours were spent lounging around with Doyoung talking Taeyong’s ears off with stories that he had missed in the past two years, how he was the one who had forced him into the class he shared with you and how coerced him into asking you out before he graduated; a bunch of stories that it almost made Taeyong wish that everything could just go back to the way it was.

He wasn’t the Taeyong they speak so fondly off, he was merely just the shell of him. Still, Doyoung had brought out a smile that you had been unable to make and for that, Taeyong gave him his thanks. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye and sniffled.

Doyoung left not too long after, but he promised to visit soon. He knew you needed the support. You were left alone with your boyfriend again and the silence envelops you whole. When you excused yourself to grab a much-needed coffee, Taeyong sank to the hospital bed and succumbed to his tears.

This was his last night in the hospital and it had felt like the longest. He was out like a light but you stilled in your chair beside his bed, fumbling with the ends of his blanket in worry of tomorrow. Not much had progressed in your relationship with him. He was still embarrassed, timid in how he acted around you. You asked if he wanted to go home with you and he reassured you that he would be fine with it, but the panic you felt was still prominent.

Morning came and after what seemed like hours of finishing what was left of Taeyong’s documents in the hospital, it was time to finally leave. You hailed a taxi and you couldn’t help but notice your boyfriend’s sudden rigidness inside the vehicle. Swallowing your reluctance, you took his hand and forced his attention on you throughout the entire drive. He was thankful that you were able to distract him.

The apartment you shared with Taeyong was small but humble, the third unit in an old building that you swore was built in an era before the current. Thin walls and a poorly constructed floor, it was all both of you could afford when you’ve decided to move in together fresh out of college. Despite its imperfections, it was home as long as you had him with you.

With the creaky sounds your front door made, you heard the familiar sound of soft thudding of feet run across the wooden floors to welcome your arrival. Your heart leaped at the sight of Lala, the three-year-old Labrador you adopted with Taeyong, bolting towards your direction with her tongue sticking out.

Taeyong trailed behind you, drinking the place in. His gaze kept on darting from one place to another, his lips parted in amazement at the thought that he really had the courage to move out of his parents’ house to live with his girlfriend. It looked lived in, bits of his and your personalities showing in the way it was decorated and cluttered. The clashing of color schemes and wood tones almost made him want to laugh over how it was clearly furnished purely on indecision and compromise.

He was too busy familiarizing himself to notice that Lala had jumped on him. Your heart squeezed at the sight.

You crouched down to your knees, reaching over to scratch the back of Lala’s ear. You chuckled at Taeyong’s confusion on how to approach the hyperactive puppy, “Her name is Lala, she’s three years old. We adopted her on your birthday last year.”

Taeyong nodded with widened eyes, getting down to your level to attempt to pet her. He commented offhandedly, “Good girl, Lala.”

“She definitely prefers you over me, too.” You mumbled, watching Lala cave into Taeyong’s touch. She hadn’t seen him in a while so you wondered if her attachment to him would waver but it seemed to only grow stronger, the same way you were with your boyfriend. “I had my friend take care of her while we were gone.”

Taeyong kept his quiet and you swallowed the lump in your throat. His doctor told you to treat him especially kindly since he was in a vulnerable state, but you should instill a sense of normalcy. You were instructed to treat him as you normally would, he needed to be reminded of the lifestyle he used to have little by little.

The idea of having to consume copious amounts of medicines every day was already exhausting and gruesome, he even had the bandage around his head to deal with. He had a lot on his plate, you wouldn’t dare add to it by pressuring him to become the adult he doesn’t remember that he was. In his mind, he was still twenty years old and was living in a rickety dorm with Doyoung; it will surely take time for him to grow out of it.

You told Taeyong to go sit down on the stool across the island, to make himself comfortable while you prepared dinner—attempt to prepare dinner. Racking all the recipes his mother had taught you over the years, you wanted to cook a meal he would enjoy and reminisce over.

“Doyoung told me you didn’t like cooking very much.” You heard Taeyong’s voice said, a voice free of malice and full of genuine interest. He said, “It makes sense that I should be the one making food for us right now. You know, for all the trouble I’ve caused you the past week.”

You shook your head firmly, turning around so your back faced him. You didn’t want to let him see your ever-growing frown. You sighed, “Don’t worry, I can handle this. Do you want some coffee?”

“Yeah, sure.” He mumbled, pressing his cheek against the palm of his hand. He wished he could do more for you, but you weren’t letting him; you had your wall up as high as he had his.

Shuffling to where your coffee maker was, you quickly fixed a cup of coffee for him as if you moved purely on instinct. Taeyong watched you in amusement as you slid a blue mug to his way. The paint of its design was chipping off the edges and it had a small crack on the handle, it definitely had seen better days but he felt oddly drawn to it.

You saw him eyeing it out and you chuckled, “We went out on a pottery class for a date once and I made that mug for you. You refused to drink coffee without it, but I think it’s time for us to throw it out and buy you a better one.”

“No!” Taeyong interjected almost immediately, waving his hands to dismiss your idea. “I like it. We’re keeping it.”

Your chest ached, but you were unable to pinpoint the feeling that made it so, “If you say so.”

Taeyong was a picky man when it came to his coffee. He wasn’t an avid drinker of dark and rich brews, often preferred the sweeter and creamier side of the spectrum. The drink you made for him tasted just right, the perfect balance, and he was overwhelmed with gratitude. It made him laugh, how his taste in college didn’t seem to change in his twenty-three-year-old body.

“You can go look around while I cook.” You remarked, jutting your chin towards the rest of the apartment that he has yet to see as you run your hands under the running water. He followed your gaze and shook his head. You quirk an eyebrow, “You sure? It’ll take a bit before these noodles cook.”

Lala encircled his feet before cozying herself on top of his shoes, refusing to leave his sight. He laughed, bending down to pick her up and place her onto his lap. With his hands deep into the puppy’s golden fur, he asked, “Is Lala supposed to be a reference to the Teletubbies?”

You turned the stove on and plopped in the boxed pasta you retrieved from the pantry, “Your nephew loved the Teletubbies at some point so we made him name her.”

A visible twinkle appeared in Taeyong’s eye at the mention of his nephew. He’d only seen photos of him recently, the last he remembered of him was that he was only an infant cradled in his sister’s arms. And as if a barrier was put down, he asked if you could tell him more about what he had missed in his personal life. If Taeyong from the past trusted you enough to move in and adopt a dog together⁠—which he couldn’t believe he was able to do in college, he had to trust you, too.

You gladly entertained his curiosities while you prepared a mediocre version of his mother’s Jajangmyeon. As obscure some of his questions were, you were as honest as you could be. From how he managed to pass his senior year to how he got the job at his company, he asked it all while stuffing his face with dark noodles.

In your eyes, he looked like a kid who wanted to know what his older brother did, to follow in his footsteps and be just like him. He wanted to absorb so much information, it almost pained you to look at him listening to you with an expression so clearly resembling envy.

He cut you off and called out to you with a voice lower than before, sadder but still hesitant. You glanced at him in worry that you were rambling too much. He averted his attention away from you, “You’re crying.”

Raising a hand to your cheek, it was wet. You coughed in embarrassment, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He mumbled, meekly offering his half-empty drink to you.

You hopped out of your seat beside him, carrying your empty bowl to the sink. You stayed a bit longer away from his line of view, wanting to keep your emotions in check for Taeyong’s first night back in the apartment. You didn’t want to scare him away, he was getting more comfortable and you succumbing to your feelings would ruin everything you’ve worked so hard for.

You turned the tap on and cracked your neck, “I’ll clean up here while you can go take a bath. The bathroom is next to the bedroom.”

He let out a breath and nodded, lingering for a moment before ultimately deciding that it would be best to leave you be. He didn’t know how he could comfort you when he was the reason for your distress, it would only hurt you more if he tried to console you of things he didn’t know of.

He spotted a box on the coffee table on his way to the bathroom, a bright red box with doodles scribbled onto its sides. Glancing at you, he was about to ask what it was inside when he clamped his mouth shut. He sat down on the couch and let his curiosity get the best of him, reaching to fiddle with the latch that sealed it closed.

Inside were piles of polaroid films, photos were not only of you and him but also of his friends from college and people he had yet to remember. An assortment of knickknacks filled it to its brim, variations of trinkets that included movie tickets and receipts. It was a box made to help Taeyong remember the memories he had lost, the connections he had with people that he had forgotten.

Taeyong bit the inside of his cheek, it must’ve been your doing. You probably asked around for others to help assemble the box, his heart swelled at the thought. You were working hard to make himself and his environment feel normal after losing a good chunk of his memories, he had to work hard as well.

His fists were shaking, his knuckles turning a shade paler than it already was. Lala snaked into the crook of his arm and whimpered at her owner’s change of composure. He laughed humorlessly, scratching her belly in appreciation.

Shutting the box closed, he sighed. He made his way towards the unfamiliar bathroom and filled the tub. Doyoung always told him that a bath could melt all of his troubles away, and how he wished it was that easy.

Taeyong came out of his long bath with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, blushing as he hastily pulled on the clothes you had prepared for him in the bedroom. You remained unfazed as you waited for him in a change of sleepwear, he realized that you might’ve already seen him naked before and the thought of it only worsened the state of his cheeks. He perched on the edge of the bed once he was finished.

You grabbed his ointment and attended to the injury on the side of his head, a gash that the doctors had sewn back together. You had a light hand, he noted, but the ache persisted. It burned when the tip of its applicator grazed along the stitches. He reached out to toy with the hem of your shirt, to divert his attention from the pain. You wrapped a bandage around his head as quickly as you could.

You mumbled, “It’s all done.”

“Thank you.” He smiled up at you and you returned it halfheartedly. “Let’s go to sleep, yeah? I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No, don’t! This bed is yours, too.” You said, holding onto his wrists before he could make a home on your busted couch that functioned as Lala’s chew toy half the time. “I know how much your back hurts because of the hospital bed so please, sleep here.”

Taeyong looked at you with a conflicted expression on his face but after seconds of contemplation and mental debate, he relented only if you’d use the bed as well. You sighed and caved in.

He crawled to his side of the bed, making you wonder if there was an inkling of a chance that he remembered how much he preferred his half that faced the windows. You shuffled to your side, mindful to not cross any boundaries. This would be his first time sleeping next to you and you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable by being too close for comfort.

You switched to your side, away from his sight. The awkwardness was suffocating you, it seemed like you were the only one affected by it because soon you felt his side dip as he made himself more comfortable while you were frozen like a statue. You were nearing the edge of the bed, so far the end that one wrong move would make you fall out of it.

“Taeyong, are you asleep?” After an hour of silence, you spoke up but in hopes that he was already sleeping.

Unfortunately for you, he hummed in response. You could feel the blankets shift, making it known that he was facing your direction now that you’ve called him. At your lack of reply, he must’ve thought you didn’t hear him so he cleared his throat, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, look. I just want to say that if you want to break up with me, I’ll understand.”

“What?” He slowly sat up in confusion, hefting himself up with his elbows. You refused to look at him, gnawing on your lips and your eyes squeezed shut as if you were a kid caught by your parents awake past your bedtime.

“This situation we’re in, you don’t have to force yourself to be with me if you don’t want to.” You managed to choke out, choosing your words carefully. “I want you to continue living who you are now, I’ll just hinder you from moving on if I only remind you of the memories you lost.”

He called out your name, much sterner and different from the gentle tone he always used on you. You were suffering worse than he was, that he knew, but he didn’t know just how much until you’ve finally cracked—the insecurities and worries you’ve hidden from him, pouring out all at once and he didn’t know what to do with it.

You were sobbing into the sheets and he could only rub circles onto your back as a failed attempt at comfort. He wanted to tell you so many things, to reassure you that he wasn’t thinking the way you assumed he would be.

Taeyong thought of you so highly. You were someone who carried all of his burdens and stories that made him the person that he was, someone who had so much love for him despite not having it reciprocated back, someone who just wanted him to forgive himself for not being who he was and to start living again. You weren’t just some stranger to him, but the world had robbed him of you.

He ignored his hesitance and whispered under the blanket of the night, “You might’ve lost the Taeyong that you love but I promise I will spend the rest of my days proving to you that I’m worthy of the same love you’ve once given to me.”

“Taeyong—”

“It’ll take some time and I can’t assure you that things will be the same as it was but I swear, I will never forget you again and we’ll be happy.”

There were a lot of things to do, but none of those things were as important to him as lying here next to you, to pick up what remained of you from his ruins. He knew full well that he wasn’t the only victim. He was aware that you were also trying your best for him, to hold onto what’s left of the pieces you used to love about him.

“I really want this to work out.” You admitted amid your hiccups and sniffles, his heart broke at the sound of it. “I know I haven’t lost you yet.”

“Thank you for not giving up on me.” He mumbled, running his nimble fingers through the locks of your hair as a serene silence filled the room as you didn’t say anything back. After a week of being in the hospital, your heavy breathing was enough to lull him into his sleep.

You glanced at him for the first time since you had laid down, observing his furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. A small smile appeared on your face, he looked tired even though he was already deep in his sleep. You whispered in the dark, “Sleep tight, Taeyong.”

The cold of the night renders you restless once again, your eyes brimming with a bright red hue and utter exhaustion. You swung your legs to the side of the bed, careful enough to not wake your boyfriend who was already asleep. His gentle snores filled the room and you made your way towards the balcony connected to the bedroom with your phone in hand and a blanket draped around your shoulders.

It was another starless sky, you looked up and the absence of the twinkling lights comforted you. You pulled on the blanket closer as you fiddled on your phone, tapping on an option that directed you to a phone call.

“Don’t you know that it’s two in the fucking morning? What do you want?” Doyoung’s voice replaced the monotonous ringing, sounding raspy from what you assumed was his sleep.

“I wanted someone to talk to.” It was your honest answer and you knew he wouldn’t judge you for it.

He yawned, and for a moment you felt a twinge of guilt but it dissipated the second after, “How is Taeyong doing? You brought him back home earlier, right?”

“He’s okay. He’s passed out on the bed right now.” You said, stealing a glance at where Taeyong was sprawled across the bed. A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips, you haven't seen him more at peace. “It kinda sucks, you know? I want to be strong for him but I don’t know how long I will last.”

“You love him, right?”

“I do. So much.”

“Then just be patient, please. You’re the only person he can truly rely on right now.” Doyoung sounded like he was almost pleading with you, entrusting his best friend to you for a second time with the first was when you agreed to be Taeyong’s girlfriend. He said, “The love you shared is very strong, it conquered many hurdles and it will overcome this.”

You nodded your head, but you remembered Doyoung couldn’t see you. You whispered, “I’m scared, Doyoung.”

“Of?” He asked as quietly as you were being as if you wanted the conversation to only be a secret between each other.

“What if he never loves me again?” Your nail was shoved in between your teeth, your leg anxiously bouncing against the floor. It was a thought that had flitted about your mind but you have shoved it so far back in an attempt to ignore it but it demanded your attention, to face its possibility.

He scoffed at the other end of the line, “It’s Taeyong we’re talking about here. If he could fall in love at his first sight of you in college, he could easily do it again.”

You let out a shaky breath, “Thanks, Doyoung. I needed that.”

“Alright, good night. Take care of yourself.” He said, dropping the call when you didn’t return his farewell.

You bent over the railing, tilting your chin up to face the night sky once more. You scoured the endless dark for even just a glimpse of a shooting star, for a chance to wish upon the universe to end this nightmare of yours. Your boyfriend was right there with you, but you have never felt more lonely.

Shutting your eyes closed, you let out another sigh. You were so tired of crying but it felt like the only thing you could do. You wondered just how much an average person could cry, maybe you’ve exceeded their record.

You left the balcony not too long after, padding back to the bed with a heavier heart. You sat on your side and twisted your body to face Taeyong. His mouth was parted and his cheek was pressed onto the pillow he held onto, a chuckle rolled off your tongue. Before you could even think of stopping yourself, you leaned onto him and placed a kiss onto his forehead.

A familiar heat rises to your neck at what you have done, you jumped from where you sat and raised a hand to your lips as if you’ve been burnt. You hadn’t been this intimate to him since the accident happened.

You grabbed your blanket and bolted to the living room, making do with the couch for the rest of the night as you forced yourself to sleep. Lala sleepily watched you in confusion.

Days passed and things have gone relatively the same as the first time Taeyong returned from the hospital, but you noticed the tension has lifted ever-so-slightly. You finally stopped crying yourself to sleep and eventually he has grown enough courage enough to express his affection—discreetly holding your hand and tugging you into his arms late at night to cuddle.

He was forced to stay at home for the remainder of the month while he recuperated, family and friends have visited from time to time to keep him company while you returned to your job. All the stories he’d heard about the two years he’d forgotten about, all of them were linked to you one way or another and it sparked a familiar surge of jealousy he had over his own self; that his past self made so many good memories with you that he could not never experience again.

His feelings for you were growing steadily, dare he said that he may have grown a crush on you. He could never admit it aloud for how pathetic it was, to have a crush on your own girlfriend. But it was your soft hair, your gentle hands, and your never-ending love and patience for him—these were some of the things he could not believe he had forgotten the existence of, how loved it made him feel, and he was ready to drown himself in it again.

Taeyong received a package when you were still at work one day, the label of his hometown address stamped at the right-hand corner indicated that it was from his parents. He ripped off the packaging tape with Lala nuzzling into his side.

He looked inside and saw his luggage. When he was rushed in an ambulance after his crash, his parents were the firsts to arrive at the hospital so the nurses had entrusted to them his belongings that were found in the wreckage. They failed to return it to him once he regained his consciousness as they hurried home soon after you had arrived, unable to stay much longer for personal matters.

He supposed that he only had clothes in it for he was told that he came from his hometown for a week-long visit. Rummaging through his clothes, he was surprised to see a velvet box hidden underneath the pile.

He took it out and gaped at it with owl-like eyes, he fumbled to flip it open. A shiny sparkle of a diamond reflected a faint rainbow from the sunlight that poured from the nearby window, he stared at it for what seemed like an eternity. Chuckling softly, he held the engagement ring close to his chest with a newfound source of encouragement.

You returned home that day to a romantic dinner. Candles of different scents were lit up and a torn picnic blanket covered the dining table, you took off your shoes and followed the scent of your boyfriend’s familiar cooking and spotted him in the kitchen. He donned a suit but he had on an apron to protect his front, busy with whatever meal he was preparing to see you peeking in from the doorframe.

“What are you doing?” You asked, and Taeyong swore you had on the brightest smile that he had seen in a while.

He turned off the stove and threw aside his apron, he strode his way to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He placed his chin on top of your head and said, “I want to get to know you better.”

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“But I want to take you out on a first date—well, not out out, but you get what I mean.”

You giggled, pressing your cheek against his chest but you suddenly drew back, the worried expression you had taking him by surprise. Raising a hand to his forehead, you asked, “Your heart is beating really fast. Are you okay? Do you want to sit down?”

He stared at you incredulously before bellowing a laugh, a hearty laugh you’ve never heard before. Shaking his head, a small hint of a smile appeared on his lips. He gently pried off your hand from his face and placed a kiss onto the back of your hand. He said, “I’m okay now.”

You were unconvinced that he was, but his sudden affection made it easy for you to ignore it. He leaned down and stole a chaste peck onto your reddened cheek. He put his hand inside the pocket of his suit and nervously fiddled with the velvet box.

Taeyong lost so much of his memories, but he was ready to make new ones as long as he was with you. He will learn to love you again as much as he did before, if not more as long as the universe allowed his heart to.

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