#but then i have done all the main colours me thinks!!
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There’s a photo—or, well, I guess it's a screenshot from this clip—that happens to be one of my absolute favourite pictures of Jimin and Jungkook. This clip itself is one of my favourites of the two of them for two reasons.
The first reason, and probably the most obvious one if you’re someone who pays attention to details, is how perfectly their outfits are coordinated. It’s like they’re matching but not in a way that’s too deliberate or forced. They’re both wearing the same colours, but the way those colours are used or styled is slightly different in each of their outfits. Jimin and Jungkook do this quite often—whether it’s a coincidence or intentional, who knows?
If you think about it, they’ve always had this knack for wearing the same colour palette. Over the last few years, they’ve even started leaning towards a similar overall style of clothing. The main difference is that Jungkook’s outfits tend to be noticeably more oversized, while Jimin’s clothes are oversized as well, just not to the same extreme. But in general, their styles are so alike that it’s hard not to notice. They both gravitate towards neutral tones—white, black, greys, and the occasional earthy tones. Jimin, however, is a bit more adventurous when it comes to colours. He’ll sometimes add a pop of something unexpected, but even then, he stays within a very sophisticated, monochromatic or neutral vibe.
This makes it pretty common to see them with outfits that feel unintentionally coordinated. Sure, other members also dress similarly from time to time—for example, Yoongi often wears neutral tones, too but you wouldn't immediately say he coordinated his outfit with Jimin or Jungkook or both.
Now, the second reason I love this clip has more to do with the phrase written on the back of Jungkook’s bomber jacket. If you take it from the perspective of what we believe their relationship might be, that phrase feels incredibly meaningful. It almost seems to capture how they have to navigate the world they’re in. For people like them—living under constant scrutiny, with so much pressure on their shoulders—it must be incredibly isolating at times. And yet, the phrase on his jacket seems to reflect the idea that, no matter how hard or lonely it gets, they’ve got each other.
Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but I’ve always thought that phrase encapsulates so much about who they are and how they seem to handle things together. From the way I see them, there’s this unspoken connection between them—a sense that they just get each other on a level that’s hard to explain.
This connection goes beyond clothes or coordinated outfits. Jimin and Jungkook seem to share so many things in terms of their personalities, tastes, and even their thought processes. Out of all the members, I feel like this is something almost unique to them. It’s not just fans who notice it, either. The other members have commented on it, sometimes confusing one for the other or saying that either one of them could’ve done or said something because they’re so similar. Even their laughter sounds alike, especially when they’re together. It’s one of those little things that feels so endearing and makes you wonder just how much time they’ve spent together to develop such similarities.
Can you imagine what they’ll be like once they’ve finished their military service? I can’t wait for all the behind-the-scenes content that’s bound to come out when the group starts promoting together again.
At the end of the day, their dynamic feels so special. Whether it’s through their coordinated outfits, shared laughter, or the way they just seem to click, there’s something about them that’s completely unique. It’s one of the reasons why moments like this clip—and even something as simple as a photo from it—stick with me. It’s not just about how they look together but about everything they represent.
#I had no business writing all that about a 5-second clip but once I started I just couldn’t stop#I even had to cut some of the things I wrote 😂#random thoughts about jikook#favourite jikook moments#thoughts about jikook#rosie's thoughts
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they ourpled all over this guy.
#i love not making decisions for myself =w=bb#i HATE eyebrows never fucking taking dye ermm#waughh its been so long since ive had dark hair... like 5+ months thats crazyy#anyway yeagh its a dark purple bc thats the only purple the store has.#i still need to do a full red. and a pink. and green.#but then i have done all the main colours me thinks!!#i have very much had pruple before but its the peoples choice o7#anywayy they dont have a (dark) greenn in store.... not that i WANT to go dark green but. itd be nice.....#sillyposting#i dont think im going to do bright colours other than bleached or orangee they dont work me thinkss#like. bright colours are AWESOMEE but. too much work. and too bright ouch#darker colours are subtler and i can be like. nvm i dont want to talk.#=w=b#yay no longer horrible back-of-head!!!!!
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so very quick and sketchy but i was getting vague designs for all the tldc ladies down in one place
not so sure on gwendolen and gwilanna and i havent looked back at the books for details yet but these were just a quick cool down for the night 🫶
#ragnar art#tldc#the last dragon chronicles#fuck it sure ill main tag#too many characters (seven) fend for yourelves on this one#i um. i might be working on (have conceptualised and planned to death) an animatic#and thus actually had to figure out what people look like#im very faceblind n have aphantasia. so if they're not all on one page idk what they look like and/or if they look similar#read a little bit more of firestar and made myself sick thinking about gwilanna and her baby :(#oh old lady... come hang out with me we can... idk eat mushrooms and kick rocks together#cant wait for my gwilanna blorbo era. MOVE OVER david and tam its about to get uncomfortable in here (my brain) for you two#just Oh my god i get it now. girl id've done worse for grief. she shouldve blown the whole planet up and i'd cheer her on the whole way#<- doesnt remember most of her storyline BUT remembers The Vibes clearly#love a mean old fuck especially if they're a major antagonist. do NOT ask me about my relationship with my parents 🤡 /j#omg i also fixed my tablet's colour settings for the first time since i got it (2....3 years ago??) and wow. i dont have to fuck about#in the colour profile before i post anymore. technology is amazing <3 (i am an idiot)
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I gave up for a few days but im so so so close to being done with the lineart for this drawing now I can almost taste my freedom......
#i need to stop being such a fucking perfectionist literally no one will notice half the edits I make. but iiiii notice 😭#but nah I just have like. one more decorative bit thats fairly simple and a couple tiny outfit tweaks + to add placeholder text....#and then I can colour it in which should be fuuunnnn :D I already know the vibe im going for + have a couple filter gradients prepped#my head hurts im so tireddd. bedtime i fink#.diaries#my main motivation to finish the lineart atm is that im gonna show it to friends once its at that stage ive been sitting on it so long#i feel like im gonna explode if i dont get any artistic attention sjdkdn esp bc my flatmate keeps showing me so much of her sickass art 😭 l#she printed out a bunch and gave some to me 😭😭😭😭😭😭 idc that its all bg3 stuff its so cuuuuttteee :3#id love to print this one when its done but id need to find somewhere that would print decently sized on nice paper#bc i dont think the details would come out very well if it was postcard sized like her prints. hmmmm
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Hi hiiii I couldn’t resist to not slide into your inbox and request a Christmas fic based on this prompt with a Aemond who isn’t used to his girl’s flirty behavior and gets flustered soo easily👀 you can totally ignore this if you don’t like it<3333
“Since I can’t ride in Santa’s sleigh, can I ride you instead?” “Sorry, what?”
HI RUE ✨ Kinda put my own spin on this but I'm sure you'll love it <3
Can I Ride You Instead?
modern!Aemond x reader
Words: 1.6k
Warnings: smut, Aemond being a workaholic while his girl has needs
A/n: It's tiiiiime, happy 1st December!!
Main Masterlist // Christmas Masterlist
One more night in King’s Landing. You look out from the window at the lights in the city; street lamps; lively pubs; offices that have been abandoned until new year; and all the festive lights lining the highstreets. Conquest Street is your favourite place to be this time of year. You love the displays in the shop windows, the market in the square, the little wooden huts selling scarves and handmade jewellery, the smell of mulled wine, sugar and cinnamon, almost tangible in your nose and on your tongue. What you wouldn’t give to be there right now.
Aemond’s apartment is bleak by comparison. He doesn’t see the point in decorations, not when he’ll be spending Christmas at his family’s estate– at Dragonstone, Christmas is Alicent’s territory. Aemond’s place is clean, lit by lowlights with no bursts of colour or fairy lights and no tree.
He’s sitting at the dining table. The cold glare of his laptop shines over his face and reflects in the lenses of his glasses.
This boy never takes a break.
Term technically doesn’t end until tomorrow but everyone you know has already gone home to make the most of the break. Not Aemond. He wants to stay for as long as possible. He doesn’t talk about his family much, but you can put pieces together. You booked your own train ticket home according to his because you could think of nothing worse than leaving him alone on the run up to Christmas.
“Sit down, you’re making me anxious,” Aemond says, not looking up from the screen.
He’s been on the verge of irritation all day. You’re in the kitchen trying to make hot chocolate? Too much noise, he says. You’re at the dining table wrapping presents for your parents? Too distracting.
You take slow steps across the floor, behind his chair, draping yourself over his shoulders. He’s working on some project for an internship and simultaneously trying to get ahead on the research for his dissertation.
You love how he looks when he’s focused, the frown that means he’s utterly absorbed in what he’s doing. It’s not quite so endearing when he could be focusing on you instead.
Your arms wrap around him. He pushes his glasses up and puts a hand over yours, a featherlight touch. You want more.
“It’s getting late you say,” letting your lips ghost over his temple.
“It’s not even six.”
“You should take a break. We could order food?”
“Yeah, when I’m done with this, I just need to–”
“Aemond.”
Your arms fall away from him and he looks up at you with a slow breath. His expression is soft, his eyes slightly hooded, his lips fallen. He knows he's upset you.
“Aemond, it’s our last night together before Christmas.”
He shuts the lid of his laptop and leaves his glasses on the table. As much as you love how he looks with them on, there’s something about the unobstructed view of his face that never fails to take your breath away. Especially his eyes, one blue, one glass and made to imitate a sapphire, framed in a neat scar running down the left side of his face, an injustice of childhood.
He leans forward, snaking his hands to your waist, pulling you in towards him.
It’s an unfair move really. Suddenly all you want to do is run your fingers through his silver hair, tilt his chin up, hold his face in your hands.
“You’re right, darling,” he says, stroking his thumbs in circles where they fall against your belly. You feel the pressure of it through the knit jumper you wear. “Let’s go out. Pub? Restaurant? What’s the market thing on Conquest Street, didn’t you mention that a while ago?”
“It’s a bit late to go out now, I’d have to get ready.”
“We’ll stay in and watch a Christmas movie then, yeah?”
“I didn’t think you’d be in the mood for something festive.”
He makes a quick face. Not that long ago you’d tried to get him to watch The Muppet Christmas Carol, and he was far from impressed. What horrors will you have in store for him next? “Whatever you want. I want whatever you want.”
You coax him to the sofa, big and plush and expensive. Aemond throws a blanket over the two of you and with a few taps of his phone arranges the food. Without much deliberation you put on Love Actually, meeting Aemond’s eye with a wide grin.
He hides his face in his hands but survives the ordeal.
By the time the credits are rolling it’s not particularly late, but you’re dreading the morning. You’ll have to wake up early, pack a bag, then you and Aemond will go to the train station together and go your separate ways until the new year. A whole two weeks apart.
You cozy up to him, breathe in the smell of his aftershave.
“What now, another film?” He asks, trying to find the remote.
Another idea pops into your head. “We could do something else?”
Aemond catches your eye, trying not to smile. “Now let me think, what else could we possibly do, hmm?” He’s awful at playing coy and has been since the moment you met him. He’s too observant, too intent on the details to play dumb.
“Well,” you say, tracing fingertips along the material of his sweats, over his thigh, “since it is the season, and I can’t ride Santa’s sleigh, can I ride you instead?”
His mouth bursts into a messy smile. “Sorry, what?”
You mean to huff out of annoyance but it comes out like a laugh. “I’m trying to be cute!”
Aemond takes your chin in his fingers and your body freezes. “You really don’t need to try,” he says, and leans in to capture your lips with his.
The way Aemond kisses makes you melt every time. He’s slow and commanding, like he’s savouring every precious moment. His hands slide underneath your jumper, dragging along your skin to hold your waist. The promise of what will come next puts you on edge.
Sparse gasps for breath hum in the back of your throat. Aemond smiles against your lips and holds you tighter, dragging you to straddle his lap. He pulls away from your mouth, to your frustration, and places a wide palm at your navel, the waist of your jeans. “Stand up, need to get these off.”
You move off him and go to undo the top button, but Aemond grabs your wrists and pulls you closer. You watch as he smiles slightly, his fingers moving to undo the button and the zip. He’s teasing you, drawing out the anticipation as much as he can.
You sigh in relief once they’re off, dragging them down your legs, tossing them aside and coming back to straddle Aemond.
His hands settle at your thighs. “Look at you, so eager, hmm?”
“You can’t blame me, you’ve been ignoring me all day,” you say, grinding your clothed core against the bulge in his sweats. You can be teasing too, with drawn out movements of your hips.
Aemond’s jaw tightens. You can see he’s trying to stay smug. “Well, we’re fixing that now.”
You press a kiss to his cheek while your fingertips curl at the top of his sweats, dragging them down enough to free his cock. He’s taught you what he likes and if you were feeling patient you might have come to your knees before him, but at the slightest touch of Aemond’s fingertips against the fabric over your clit, you know what you need.
He pulls your panties to the side, dragging you along his leaking cock with a hand at your lower back. He’s hard and you’re achingly wet. He holds you where he wants you, lining himself up to pull you down onto his length. The stretch is sharp and sweet, hollowing you out and filling you perfectly.
Aemond’s head falls against the back of the sofa as you sink down.
“Does it feel good?” you tease him.
He’s breathless, helplessly watching the space where your bodies meet. “Fuck, perfect little pussy– feels so good,”
You cradle your arms around his head as you ride him, unhurried, hands restless as you feel his hair and the sides of his face, along his jaw.
Aemond hardly has to do anything, as soon as his fingertips are on your clit you feel your spine straighten and something inside you tighten. He circles over you lazily, watching your face with a soft, admiring kind of amusement.
“Right there,” you whisper, “don’t fucking stop.”
“Are you gonna come for me, darling?”
Your thighs are burning at the effort but you don’t care. You’re so close, so close.
“Beg me,” Aemond murmurs.
A slew of slurred and breathless pleas fall from your lips. You can feel the slickness between your legs, how easily he glides over you, how deep his cock reaches inside of you, pushing against the right spot.
Aemond hums as he grabs your hips with his free hand, fucking you faster and harder until you’re falling apart, convulsing, melting.
You fall against Aemond, holding each other closer as you wait for the deliriousness to fade away. Suddenly the air is unbearably cold. You cling to Aemond, to his warmth, content in his arms.
“Happy with your ride?” Aemond asks. You can hear him grinning.
You lift your head and rest it against his shoulder. The light of the TV catches in his features, his jaw, his cheeks, his nose, the details of grey in his right eye and the unnatural bright blue of his left.
“Can I go again?”
Aemond leans into you, pressing his nose against yours. “You can ride me as many times as you want, darling.”
No taglist, follow @ficsbygee and turn on post notifs for updates!
#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#aemond x you#aemond x y/n#aemond fic#aemond targaryen fic#aemond smut#aemond targaryen smut#modern!aemond#hotd fan fiction#hotd fanfic#hotd fic#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon fic#aemond oneshot#aemond one eye#gee-sus christmas#my fics
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A few DIY beauty secrets I began doing to elevate my "natural" look | IT GIRL DIARIES
something that I noticed over the years, when looking to enhance your natural beauty, there are 4 main points that build the first impression, hair, eyes, brows and lips..
I have naturally bushy brows that I used to manage with eyebrow gel, but it would start flaking during the day, which gave me the ickk. So, I began laminating them with a kid-friendly relaxer every two weeks (my eyebrows grow pretty fast, which is why I do it so often and i don't get them professionally done because i don't trust people with my brows lol).
I always tweeze my eyebrows instead of waxing them; they seem to grow back slower that way + it's easier to do, just grab a tweezer along with a pocket mirror and you can do it anywhere if you see a hair out of place. ( don't over do it though, i made this mistake and it went horribly, just keep them neat )
Get your lashes laminated !!! Natural lashes are so classy and I don't have to worry about putting on mascara or falsies. This I'd get done professionally though lmao, I would do this myself but I'm way to scared to be messing with anything chemically so close to my eyes, so it isn't necessarily a diy but still, get it done!
ALWAYS make sure your hair, eyes (lashes) and eyebrows are done! You don't have to have a silk press, falsies and freshly waxed brows 24/7 but make sure they're neat. These are the key features that attracts people's attention when youre speaking to them
I have tight 4b type hair, and I used to have to lay my edges with gel or edge control because of how fluffy they'd get when I wore my curls out, but it was super damaging from constantly pulling on them and having them laid down. So, I started relaxing my edges every 3-6 months. Now, all I use is a bit of hairspray to keep them tamed, and now it doesn't puff up even during workouts and it lasts my whole silk press. Yes, my curls are still thriving.
I do weekly deep conditioning, monthly hot oil treatments, routine trims, and always use a heat protectant and frizz control when doing silk presses to stretch them out and minimize heat application. ( my hair has grown so much, leave your hair alone and only feed it when it's hungry! )
you'll hear everyone talking about silk bonnets, but as someone who hates the feeling of having anything on their head or in their face, I always took it off unknowingly throughout the night and it defeated the purpose, so i got silk pillow cases instead, game changer! i don't wrap my hair as often anymore and i don't experience frizz anymore.
I apply a face mask every week depending on what my skin is lacking, whether it’s moisture or something else. It just keeps my face looking fresh and plump in between professional monthly facials.
I use a lip tint every third day. It makes makeup application easier, and it doesn’t wear off throughout the day so i don't have to re-apply lipstick continuously. It also gives my lips a bit more colour so now I just leave the house with a pretty gloss or plain lip balm.
I take zinc supplements religiously!
Vitamin C everyday, all day. Lemon wedge in my greentea for breakfast, orange for a lunchtime snack and a naartjie for a late night movie. My skin is glowinggg!
hair removal cream! this is so slept on, i no longer shave or wax, both of them have caused ingrowns for me and accentuate my strawberry legs. i use hair removal cream now and i don't think I'll ever go back! i use it probably every week or so depending on how much growth i have, it's so easy and mess free. apply it before you get in the shower and use an exfoliating glove to slide it off gently and continue with your normal wash routine. always apply tissue oil and moisturizer after! baby soft skin all day, everyday!
It's not much, but these small changes have completely transformed my overall look. i do them specifically for those actual no makeup days where i want to give my skin a break from makeup or where im working out but still want to look prettyyy and done up..it's like a wash and go except it's for your face lmao, anyways
mwah! xoxo, colebabey8.88
www.investingforbeginners/gumroad.com
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#not my pic#it girl journey#becoming the it girl#og it girl#it girl#pink#early 2000s#fashion#pink aesthetic#branding#colebabey888#pink core#dream girl journey#makeup#becoming that girl#girl things#girlhood#im just a girl#pink girl#brown girl luxury#girlblogger#this is a girlblog#girlblog aesthetic#gaslight gatekeep girlblog#girlblogging#just a girlblog#beauty tips
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Sweet Revenge
Synopsis : You get into a fatal car incident, but later you wake up and find yourself back in the past. You vows to take revenge on your adopted family.
Word count : 7,750
Pairing : Choi Seungcheol x reader.
Genre : Romance, revenge drama, contract marriage, time traveler!au & smut.
Warnings : mean stepmother & stepsister, mentions of car crash and fire incident, CEO SEUNGCHEOL, make out session that leads to both individuals doing sex, smut, red leading to black flag ex, infidelity (not reader and seungcheol), mention of period, sexual tension(?), lovey-dovey couple, sexy and delicious seungcheol 🫦🫦, simp!seungcheol, he fell first and they both fell harder.
★ THIS IS MY VERY FIRST FIC THAT REACH MORE THAN 3K WORDS AAA, and sorry for the delay because i forgot what the ending was supposed to look like, also the smut warning below. enjoy reading it, xoxo
☆ check out my other works > main masterlist
Smut warning : making out, pussy eating, cream pie, BIG DICK!cheol, reader sucking on seungcheol's fingers, breast play(?), sex without protection (don't do this shit in real life) this is my first time writing smut, lmk if i miss anything!!
“You can't just break up with me when you know our wedding is near!” Hearing that makes your blood boil, he’s right, your wedding is near, but don't you think it's too much? Get married with your fiance after knowing he likes your sister and they have an affair going on?
You don't even know how you can return to the time before Se-hyuk & you get married. All you remember before is you're in a coma after big accidents between your car and theirs. And now you're wearing your cancelled-wedding dress, in the boutique store that you remembered has been closed.
“I shouldn't even fuck with you, Yoon Se-hyuk” That's all you say before you ripped the gown, paid for it and then go straight to your car without sparing a glace at him.
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
“Han y/n! Se-hyuk is searching for you” You sigh heavily, you already blocked his number & any other social media platform so he can't annoy you anymore, but now he's coming to your house? You wonder how much audacity he has, because he was brave enough to come here after you made him gone in your life.
“Tell him to go home!” You don't want to see his face anymore. Every time you remember it, your heart aches so much that it brings your eyes to tears.
You know you have never been so lucky in your life. Your stepmother opens your bedroom door, telling you to talk with Se-hyuk.
You told him to talk with you outside, and he's holding onto your hand like a lost puppy.
“I told you to fuck off, didn't i? What is wrong with you? I told you don't be near me anymore!” You yell at him, and before he can even answer, his phone rings and when you both look at the contact name, you decide to be the one who answers the call.
It was his mother, “Hello? Se-hyuk, I'm searching for a hanbok right now, and they have a lot of variety. What colour do you think would match me well?” After a few seconds of silence, you answer her.
“Pink and green will suit you the best auntie, and for your information, our wedding is canceled” You can hear his mother's panicked voice, asking what is wrong with your relationship, but you didn't answer her, you hung up the phone and put his phone on shut down.
“Go away, Yoon Se-Hyuk” You said and turned your back to go back to your house.
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
“So, you're Han Yu-ra?” The guy in front of you asked and made a smirk raised from your lips.
“No, I'm Han yn. I'm her sister, and I'm the one who’s going to be married to you” The sentence you left out making him arched one of his eyebrows, telling you to explain yourself.
“Here's the deal, we’re going to get married, you go back to Taeja's group, and both of our companies will merge and I get to have my revenge” You said calmly, while looking him dead in the eyes and smiling through your lips.
He asked what's in it for him. Luckily, you've done your research, “you can get your revenge on your brother too, isn't that what you wanted?” You tell him and your expression is cocky.
Both of you closed the deal and started making the rules to live in while still in your marriage life.
You are aware of your surroundings. There is a paparazzi that takes your photos, and Yu-ra is also in that lounge, walking to search for the man in front of you but then surprised by your figure that sat with him.
You had asked your cousin– who also deeply hated Yu-ra, to help you check Seungcheol's background and being the paparazzi at the hotel and will be the one who published the rumor for both of you.
She also knows about you going back in time.
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
Seungcheol brought you to his room to discuss the matter of your marriage, and suddenly, a question came to his head.
“Why did you choose me to have revenge on your family? Am I that handsome?” He asked while confidence was plastered on his face as he poured the wine for both of you.
You scoffed, didn't know what to say for a while because of his demeanor, “Because Yu-ra liked you, and also you're not my type, so don't be a big head”
His smirk faltered after hearing your response, and a scowl replaced his confidence.
Both of you are drowning your sorrow with the wine filling up the hollow of your body.
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
A Few weeks passed, the rumors started flying in his company too, and now Seungcheol is in a meeting with your ex.
“Do you realize she's just using you?" Se-hyuk says to his boss, his tone dripping with arrogance.
The audacity of his words makes Seungcheol blood pressure spike. After everything he’s done—treating you so cruelly and having an affair with your sister—he still refuses to let you go? What the hell is wrong with him?
“That’s none of your concern, Manager Yoon,” Seungcheol replied sharply. Then, with a calm yet pointed smile, the CEO added, “And for the record, I don’t care if she’s using me. I love her.”
Se-Hyuk glares hard at his boss.
Maybe he still loves you, and doesn't want you to go run your own life, because after all you both have been in a relationship for a decent time, 5 years to be exact and the moment before you ended everything is 3 months before your wedding.
He knew better than to press the issue further. Instead, he turned his attention to the proposal his team had submitted. Yet, no matter how hard he tried to focus, his mind wandered elsewhere.
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
"Aww, so you shut him out like that? You really love me, don't you?"
Seungcheol was used to your teasing by now, and he found it oddly satisfying to play along.
"Of course. You're my dear fiancée. How could I not love you with all my heart?" he replied, a smirk adorning his perfect features.
The two of you continued your playful banter late into the night. Eventually, you realized he had caged you beneath him on the sofa in the apartment he had bought for you both to share.
His intense gaze shifted between your eyes and lips before he slowly leaned in, his right hand cradling the side of your face. You responded with your lips brushing against his, a silent invitation.
When your lips met, Seungcheol kissed you like he was afraid of losing you, his touch tender yet passionate. You knew better, though. He loved it when your kisses turned wild— something you'd learned firsthand during your first kiss in a hotel room, a memory you cherished.
Your hands threaded through his black locks, pulling him closer as soft grunts and moans escaped your lips.
After what felt like ten minutes of an intense make-out session, He finally pulled back to give you both a chance to catch your breath.
Without hesitation, he asked, "Bedroom?"
You nodded in response.
Your relationship might not have started romantically, but deep down, something told you this could be the best thing that ever happened in your life.
Meanwhile, you and Seungcheol are having the time of your life, Se-hyuk is trying to get Yu-ra to go home because earlier she called for him, and he can tell that she's drunk.
He's rushing to the bar, throwing Yu-ra on his shoulder to take her to her house (which basically, yours too).
But a plan can't always get in your way, can they? Yu-ra is drunk enough to have Se-hyuk stop the car in the stinky, small motel, so they can do the activity a soon-to-be brother-in-law and soon-to-be sister-in-law shouldn't do.
Even when Yu-ra is kissing him like a mad woman after entering the room, Se-hyuk still thinks about the afternoon event that makes the girl who sat between his legs pissed and starts to attack his sensitive spot on his neck so she can get his attention.
Pretty good to say, both pairs having an intimate time that night.
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
Here's the difference, Choi Seungcheol woke up from the best sleep he ever had with a smile on his face when he noticed you're still in his arms.
On the other hand, Yoon Se-hyuk was scared shitless when he saw Yu-ra's and his naked body and the motel room they booked for the night. He quickly gathered his clothing and put it on so he could leave the room fast.
Now, he can't even blame you for the canceled wedding anymore. He knew he was an asshole back then, but now he feels like he's a total dickhead because last night he fucked your sister, despite knowing that there's a cold war going on between both of you.
He’s still trying to win you back, with a constant push from his mother and sister, who many have labeled a gold digger.
Yes, he marries you for your money, that doesn't mean he doesn't love you, does it? Well, he admits, at first glance, that he has already fallen in love with you, the way you sit and talk elegantly about your interest, and that you are also searching for a husband.
Then, there comes Yu-ra who is always trying to steal his attention away from you to her, and that she always wears a slightly more provocative outfit when he's at your house, telling him that she already feels comfortable with him.
That leads to another. They started seeing each other more often without you knowing, and they started developing feelings for the other individuals, making it so complicated.
He doesn't know how you can find out about his affair with Yu-ra because both him and your sister are sure that they're playing clean, at least that's what they thought.
Unfortunately, you saw them minutes after the hard car crash. That puts you in a fatal condition where you can even speak or move your body. You can only move your eyes.
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
After you woke up, your fiancé decided that it's time to have a shower, and he insisted that you both have to do it together.
It’s nothing dirty. He just takes care of you after the little act last night and having a light conversation with you, and what surprises you is that there's no awkwardness lingering between both of you.
The CEO said his schedule today is packed, so he’s going to come home late, so you told him you will be joining a cooking class that his mother attends.
You know Seungcheol's mother isn't quite fond of you, so you want to change her mind and want to start a good relationship with her.
It's 10 a.m. and the house is already empty, leaving the cool air behind.
“So, do you have any reason why you want to join this class?” Jamie– the owner of the class, ask you. So you answered, “yes, i want to sometimes cook with my fiancé, and my soon-to-be mother-in-law is joining this class, so i want to start a good relationship with her”
Jamie nodded with a satisfied smile, and then she talked to you about the rules on this class and other information you should know.
The odd thing is, Jamie looks a lot like your mother. They even had the same scar that looks like they have the same cause– a cat.
After she explains everything, Jamie brings you to her class and starts introducing you.
Seungcheol's mother looked surprised by your present, and then she shifted her eyes to her table again.
You greet her, and you're lucky because the table you got is side by side with her.
“Why do you join this class?” She asks, tone sharp, and she doesn't even know why it can come at such a tone when she didn't mean it.
“I heard from Seungcheol that you joined the cooking class here, auntie, so i said to him i'll give it a try to bond a good relationship with you” you answered calmly.
She gives you one last glare before deciding that it would be best for her to just ignore you.
When the class is finished, she told you to meet her at the café nearby, wanting to have a talk with you about your relationship with her son.
“I’m just going to ask you the point here” she says, making you gulp hard on her glare.
“Do you even love my Seungcheol? how can I trust you when I know your relationship with your ex has failed because you canceled the wedding!?”
You won't lie, that words cut deep into your heart, your body is shaking and your eyes are glossy, you want to get out of there soon, but before you can even open your mouth, she strikes again.
“Look, you can't even answer that question. How can I give Seungcheol to you when you can't answer the basic question I ask?”
Another voice joins in, a male voice that you and her are familiar with, because that's your fiancé's voice.
“That is not your business mom, the only thing that matters is I love her and she’s willing to try a relationship with me, isn't it enough?” He angrily said to his mom, and he gently grabbed your hand and pulled you up from your seat, then you both walked away.
You are still sparing glances towards your back to see Mrs. Choi's reaction, but she just looks at both of you in horror.
Seungcheol doesn't even spare her a glance anymore, he just goes straight to the parking lot while still holding your hand to guide you.
“You okay? She doesn't do anything to you, does she?” His voice etched with worry that was evident on his face.
“It's okay, Cheol. She didn't do anything to me”
After you calmed him down, both of you entered his car, you questioned your car but he said a driver will pick your Mercedes up a few minutes ahead.
The strings of ‘sorry’ seem to never stop falling from his lips, and you can only tell him that everything's fine and he doesn't need to apologize.
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
“Ya, Han Yu-ra, what’s your sister like? She's marrying my brother, so I need to know her” of course Yu-ra and Se-hee— Se-hyuk's sister, knows who that voice belongs to.
Choi Seungchae, Seungcheol's sister and a well-known celebrity slash influencer in south korea.
“She's selfish, and always talks bad about people even if she is close with them, you know she was also adopted by my father, right?” Yu-ra said with a smirk on her face, that Seungchae wants to scratch her face with her perfectly fresh-made manicure.
Se-hee nodded her head upon hearing Yu-ra's words, she also added, “And you know? she’s the one who cancelled the wedding between her and my brother!”
“Also, I followed you on sns, can you follow me back? it'd be an honor to me!”
“I'm sure she has her reasons to end things with your brother,” Seungchae pauses before continuing her words, “and doesn't your description sound like you throw your sister under the bus Yu-ra? No? I feel like that is much more to your description, not hers”
She then walked away out of that store with her friends while they were laughing about Se-hee who bluntly asked her to follow back her SNS so she can brag to her other friends.
Yu-ra twitches her eyes, she can't even make Seungchae like her? What does she lack? She's perfect and she's going to tell her mom so she can ruin both family dinners.
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
When Mrs. Choi goes to Seungcheol house, she didn't expect to see his son and you both sleeping together.
it's nothing serious, she would say. because Seungcheol's sleeping on the couch while his hands are holding onto yours who's sleeping on the floor with the position that could probably make your neck uncomfortable.
Startled by the sound of the door being unlocked, you shot your eyes open and found it weird that Mrs. Choi is here, she doesn't usually come in without any notice before.
You want to greet her first, but she quickly shuts you down and then grabs your hand to take you outside.
You want to protest, but before any words come out of your mouth, Mrs. Choi brings you to her embrace and starts hugging you tightly which makes you worried, what's wrong?
“Are there any problems, auntie? I’m sorry, I didn't mean to sleep here, I dozed off without knowing last night” You babbled to her, waiting for any impact that might have gone to your face.
Instead, she pulled away from the hug and started speaking, “I never seen him sleeping peacefully since he's graduated his elementary school because of his trauma, thank you for making him sleep like this again”
You don't even know what to say when she hugs you again, this time a little bit shorter, and she says, “You have my permission to marry him, the only thing you have to achieve is that i want you to join Taeja's group again”
And there's where your real revenge starts, with the help of your fiancé's family, of course.
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
Both your family agreed to have dinner together on Sunday night in Taeja’s group restaurant that they had reserved, only for the family.
Mrs. Choi doesn't look so fond of your stepmother, she knew about the backstory of your poor life because of her.
Meanwhile your father— Han Jiwoong, greets the other families with a genuine smile, your stepmother uses her sly smile, making everybody in Taeja's family start to scoff at her, even Grandma Taeja.
After half an hour greeting each other, here comes the main topic of why Taeja’s family and yours are having dinner tonight, it's to discuss your marriage.
“Our company will begin merging after they both get married, you don't mind that, right?” Grandma Taeja asks your family, especially your stepmother because her eyes are pointed to her.
She answered her with that mischievous smile of her, “we'll gladly accept that, grandma”
“But our daughter is not perfect, so we aren't really sure if she can be married with your grandson” she continues, and that makes your heart burn with anger.
“As you know, she works as a painter that only sell 2 or maybe 3 pieces total in her life, she can't cook on her own, and also adopted” The words that she threw at you make your heart pounds a thousand times than your average, all of that makes you nervous, but Seungcheol hold your hand to tell you he's here and everything is gonna be fine.
Seungchae seems to be confused by the tension from your family, she whispers to her husband, “what is this? Why are they trying to make their daughter look bad?”
While her husband only shook his head that means he doesn't know.
“I don’t care about the pieces she sell, my family is rich, we surely can make her life comfortable without her lifting up her fingers” Mrs. Choi said as she also knows about Han Jiwoong's wife's plan to drag you down.
Seungcheol chimes in, joining the conversation, “I'm the best cook in my family, you don't need to worry about both of us not eating, I can make her breakfast, lunch, and dinner, we can also go out sometimes” His answer is sharp, undeniable.
“We also don't care about her being adopted, there's nothing to worry about, and we have 90% control of the media in South Korea, so we can shut them down if we want to” He added to ensure that anyone from your family can talk bad about you anymore.
Few hours passed, and the dinner was already finished minutes ago. You and Seungcheol are both satisfied by the dinner and also his family answers to yours.
“It's okay, they're good people” Your fiancé said to ease up your worries that were written on your forehead.
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
Summer is soon turning into autumn, and your relationship label is turning into husband and wife after being engaged for 3 months.
Today is the sacred day for you and Seungcheol, both of you will say the vows and a contract hidden beneath that.
Your father walks you down the aisle, a beautiful white gown draped around you, fitted bodice that accentuates the waist and a voluminous skirt that flows out dramatically made of satin.
You choose a sweetheart and off-shoulder neckline to anctuates your collarbone, and a natural looking makeup so it doesn't overwhelm you.
The veil made out of tulle, makes your face look beautiful in the altar lighting.
The procession goes really well, and you soon know that's because your step sister hasn't arrived yet.
after the guest and family member announce their speech— including Seungchae and her husband crying while reading theirs and it makes your heart warm at the sight, and Seungcheol's brother's cold speech that looks like it's just for formality.
When the photo session though, everything starts to irritate you a little, because not only your stepsister have arrived, she also wears a white dress, hoping to outshine the bride— yes, you.
She even goes live on social media, “Guys, look at my stepsister, she really looks beautiful isn't she?” while holding your hand, which you let go.
“I'm sorry, Yu-ra. I'd love to hold hands with my husband only” with a smile on your lips, filled with dread for her to take a hint.
“I love you, my wife” Seungcheol said, and you answered the same.
Both of you lean towards each other, letting the photographer take your sweet photo while kissing so happily and a grumpy Yu-ra beside you.
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
“Okay, so now what?” You ask your now husband, after the wedding ends.
“Why are you still asking? We’re going to have a Honeymoon, and we're taking the first flight to Jeju tomorrow” He said, making you feel ridiculous talking to him.
So you hit him, hard on his shoulder, “You said you're scared of the beach and ocean because of your childhood, we don't have to if you don't want it, we can go anywhere” You answered him and remembering his fear of the ocean that he told you a few while back.
“If you can face your fear, and eat my food without me having to do it first, so can I do it too, you're telling me we are in this together, right?” He looks at you like you're the one putting stars one by one in the sky.
And without a doubt, Jeju is where you both go.
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
“It's not that bad” Seungcheol says after you both reach your bedroom, and clean yourselves.
You gave him a smile, “right? it's calming” as you climbed to the bed, your brain turning his gears to think about the sleeping position tonight.
“Here's a pillow, you go sleep down there” Your words make Seungcheol furrow his eyebrows and eyes wide, “No! We can go sleep in the same bed”
The way he said it so casually makes your eyes also widen, you both definitely can't sleep on the same bed.
“I promise i'm going to hold your hands while we sleep–” before Seungcheol can even finish his sentence, you already throw the pillow to him.
“No!” You yell at him to make his eyes go even wider, which makes you smile sheepishly at him, while muttering soft ‘sorry’.
“You have a dirty mind, we wouldn't even do anything” and finally, you tell him, “okay, you sleep here”
And just before he can express his happiness, you added, “i'll sleep there" while grabbing your pillow and starting to get up from bed.
Well, of course Choi Seungcheol has to be a big headed person he is, so he caged you on the soft bed, making it impossible for you to move.
A week before your wedding, Seungcheol confessed that he has feelings for you, maybe that's why you don't want to sleep together.
“You don't believe my words, do you?” he asked, and the way you stay silent with your eyes wandering anywhere but him makes Seungcheol even more sure about his question.
His eyes dart from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes again, only to find you already doing the same.
Slowly but surely, he leans in, both you breath hot while your lips brushing the slightest.
it feels like you're so close but so far to his liking, so he grabbed the back of your head to push your lips to clash with his.
The kiss soon got heated with both of your tongues joining in, your lungs burning at the sensation begging to tell you to pull away from him but your brain keeps ignoring it.
Fortunately, after a few seconds Seungcheol pulls away, making you chase his lips that are stained with your lipstick, meanwhile yours was plump and glossy.
Your hands paw weakly on his shirt after gripping it like your life depends on it, silently asking him to put it away, and with that look in your eyes, how can he refuse?
Seungcheol wasted no time to take his shirt off, leaving him only in his black trouser.
You're now technically gawking at him, but how could you not? His bicep is big and you can even see the veins become more prominent. Looks like he's god's favorite, and that's why he has that body of a god.
Seungcheol goes to the bed again, only to find you still staring at him. Looks ready for him to cherish, and to ravish.
He kisses your lips again, but this time it's rougher than the last one, soon the kiss starts going to your neck and the sweet spot behind your right ear.
his hot breath fanning over your skin, makes you shudder. His next move lets you out a whimper, but how can you not? He cups your pussy through your short silk nightwear.
“Cheol” you moan, holding his bicep while looking at his other hand that goes under your top, fondling with your right breast.
Seungcheol can feel himself getting worked out. The trouser he had picked earlier today feels a little strained to his liking. He can't hide his growing bulge anymore.
He starts undressing you, taking his time while kissing the new spot he sees, while you can only whimper and moan out because you can't think of anything other than him.
“You're wet, baby” it's true, you've been wet since the moment your kiss got heated, and everytime you think of his demeanor, you caught yourself in a sinful scene.
You grab his black lock when he decides to dive in without giving you any warning, the sudden act makes you scream out loud, you don't really care who's gonna hear you, the hotel receptionist told you the suite was soundproof.
Your husband can tell you are close, so he pulls away from your cunt and you can see his chin and mouth glistening deliciously with your essence.
Without any words, he gets up to take off his trousers and boxer. His cock is massive with veins noticeable to your eyes, even though you two had sex before this, but you still amaze at his size.
You whine at him but he quickly shuts you up with a deep kiss to your lips and slowly he starts pushing himself inside of you, not wanting to hurt you.
His thrust started slow, but when he's sure you adjusted his size, he becomes rougher with you, grunts heavily heard here and there from him.
“Open” His words leave no room to argue, when you do open your mouth, he inserts his middle and index finger.
He smirks before opening his mouth again, “Suck my fingers, sweetheart” He left you speechless— not that you could answer him or something, you begin to suck eagerly, wanting to be a good girl for him.
After only a few thrusts, you can feel your stomach tightening a sign to warn that you're going to cum, and Seungcheol was aware of this so he fastened his pace, also reaching for his own high.
The way you clench around him makes your husband's head feel dizzy, and the time you cumming it also triggers him to come hard inside you, filling you to the brim.
He didn't immediately go off of you, he rested himself for a minute and when he did get off you, he carried you to the bathroom to clean yourselves out.
“I love you, baby” He said while carrying you, never in a million years he's thinking of saying that to someone. “And I hope you love me too” Seungcheol added.
The sweet moment makes your heart start warming, and you just hope that there's no other torture you'll get in this life.
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
Of course, your torture doesn't stop there.
Yu-ra is still snooping on your marriage life, and Se-hyuk is still being your pain in the ass.
One day, though, he's going inside your house and finds a file of treasure, the truth inside your wedding.
He quickly tells Yu-ra about it, and they both make their cunning plan with the help of your stepmother.
Meanwhile, you found out that you are your father's real daughter after taking a DNA test. The result makes your heart clench, so he abandoned you and decided to adopt you again?
And Yu-ra is not even his real daughter, all the torment you had in all your life just to know you're the real one?
“You're home late tonight, it's unusual of you, why?” Your husband asks why slowly walking to you while crossing his hand, and before he can say anything, you just go to wrap yourself on his body, wanting nothing but to be held by him.
The seconds he had you in his embrace, tears started falling from your eyes, your expression pained seungcheol to the deepest of his heart, willing to do anything to stop them.
A few minutes pass and you finally tell him what's going on and why are you home late at night crying your heart out.
The moment he hears the reason, he instantly soothes you down with his hand, silently telling you that it's okay to cry and you will resolve this problem together.
Since the honeymoon, you two got closer and eventually you started to like him too, your routine becomes more and more like a husband and a wife should be.
you sleep on the same bed, cooking or baking together, and even have breakfast, lunch, and dinner together.
Seungcheol's family also notices this, even Seungchae always teases both of you for it. His grandma also becomes more welcome to you, and being the kind person she always have, sometimes she invited you to Choi's manor to have brunch together with her and Mrs. Choi.
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
Seungcheol and you entered his family's manor at the same time, his mother told both of you to come here everyday, but since you’re busy you often call off her invitation.
But today is an exception because you and your husband don't have any schedule.
Mrs. Choi is already waiting for you at the sofa right before the entrance, she gets up to greet you.
Seungcheol is already having his hands in the air beside him, waiting to be hugged by his mother while closing his eyes.
After a few moments, he can't feel anything that close to his body, so he opens his eyes and can't believe what he is seeing.
His mom hugged you before him, when he saw this, he whined “mom! I'm your son, why is she getting the hug first!?” He said while slightly pouting and looking at you with a playful glare which you responded with you sticking out your tongue at his direction, mocking him.
“She’s my daughter! Of course i would hug her first, beside you don't come here as often as her and i'm angry for that” She defends herself after letting you go from her embrace.
The lunch was filled with a lot of laughter echoing in the table and the talk about everything you could ever imagine with cranky Seungcheol at his mother's house.
It's not a problem to have your husband sulky, because you know how to make him normal again, so you hold your chopsticks that you use to pick the galbi to his mouth, muttering ‘aaa’ to him.
Seungcheol looked at you weirdly and not wanting to take a bite but gave in when you kicked his shin beneath the table.
When your stomach is filled to the top, you three go sit in the living room and hold a conversation about your businesses.
The talk soon died down when an uninvited guests came barging without everyone knowing they would be here, it's your stepmother, Yu-ra and Se-hyuk that you think so pathetic because of how on's on his knees for you last week on a police station but now he's on their side.
“Oh, good. You’re here, mom” The words coming out of Yu-ra's mouth make Seungcheol’s mother want to gag. She doesn't have any right to call her that.
She was searching for a document in her purse, and when she found it, she shoved the paper to your face. She smirked before opening her mouth again, “your son and my sister are having a marriage that is based on a contract. She wants to use your beloved son for her own goods”
Mrs. Choi unfazed as she took the paper slowly, training her eyes into it before forcing her eyes to Yu-ra's again, she chuckles.
“First of all; don't call me like that, I don't want you to call me ‘mom’ because you don't have the right, second of all; do you not know literally anything beside this? I also participate in this contract. You should read it first before barging into my house like that” She gets up from her seat, and starts going to your stepmother.
“Teach your daughter some manners, how come she has a mother but doesn't have any manners or shame walking like that at someone's house? She must be getting it from her mother” You can basically see there's a lot of smoke coming out of her head, being the embarrassing attention to her because of her daughter.
Your mother-in-law also goes to your ex, “What kind of man are you? Why are you still interfering with your ex who has already married life? You’re the one who found out about the contract, are you? I checked the CCTV when I went there, and you know it can get you to prison, right?”
Her words leave three of them speechless, and before she turns around, Se-hyuk is already on his knees.
The sight makes you roll your eyes in annoyance, and the thing that makes you want to throw up is the fact that he started apologizing hundreds of times.
But she just stood there quietly, that's when you noticed the front bodyguard already at home, dragging all of them out of the house.
And after a few moments, the lady asks you if you're okay and when you said you're fine she turns to her son to give him a long well needed advice.
It's already sunset when you both decide to go home, and Seungcheol holds your hand throughout the ride, an act to comfort you.
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
It's been weeks since your last encounter with Yu-ra, it happened just 2 days after the incident in the Choi's manor, she slapped you real hard before chucking her glass of water at you.
“You're a fake daughter of my dad, so let go all you have because you don't deserve it and you never will! you take everything that's mine!” She said with anger, the fiery glares she threw at you filled both of her eyes.
The way she started mocking you and even bringing up your biological mom hit your nerves, so you slapped her back, twice and smirked at her “Who said I'm the fake one? call father if he's aware of it”
When Yu-ra got home, she got into a big fight with her father or stepfather, she's not his biological daughter but you are, and then her mom did nothing as she was just as speechless as her.
turns out you already sent him the file before Yu-ra's incident, oh and how he is mad is unbelievable because he also found out that his wife now already knew about it and didn't say anything.
He yells at her, and this is the one time everybody saw him losing his control, slamming the door right behind him, leaving the house hollow and cold because he takes the warmth from there.
While your family is having their problems, you're digging for Jamie– your cooking class mentor, if you'd remember, She “accidentally” tells all the students that she has a daughter but gets separated after an incident in her house.
And with that you're pretty sure she's your mother.
Her gestures, the way she talks and even the scars feel close to your mother, and she always gives you the warmth you had lost since your past incident.
After a few days of searching, the result of the DNA test you took with Jamie came in your mail.
Tears start brimming on the edge of your eyes, the test result is that you're 99,9999% share the same DNA with her.
Seungcheol is there too, watching all the scenes with both of his eyes, and when you start getting weak after reading the paper, he saves you from falling to the ground.
There's one question in your head: Why should she leave you alone with your hell of a father?
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
The time you confronted Jamie about your test result, she invited you to her house to talk about this more privately.
When you go inside her house, she immediately hugs you tight on her arms as if she is scared to let you go again.
She tells you about the incident details, that she was locked in her bedroom when the fire started, she's calling anybody for help, but the only one she can hear is your stepmother's voice that told her to stay put in her position and that she will have to die.
Your dad and you were getting groceries together and she can come because she has to finish her painting before tomorrow comes.
She got a second degree burn on her right hand but got out just right before the house exploded because of the gas.
And the left side of her hand has the exact same cat scratch you saw the first day.
She said that she moved to the states after that incident and after knowing you're in the hand of your father because she needs a treatment that only america has, not knowing that your father left you a month after she left to the states while you're at a foster home.
No words exchanged after that, just a comfort silence filled the room while you both cuddled up on her sofa, watching your favorite movie of all time— according to your 7 year old self and your mother who remembers it.
You already told Seungcheol about this, and he said that it's okay and you need to have a quality time after a long time not meeting your mother.
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
A month after you met your mother, she decided to move into the house beside yours and Seungcheol, wanting to be closer to you.
Your father finally comes to his senses and always shows up at your mother's front door while holding a bouquet of Daffodil and some peonies.
Yu-ra and her mother got their karma.
Your stepmother's crime was finally discovered by the media and police, she's doing fraud and selling fake pieces of art.
The one who reported her? Your family secretary— Kim Jae Won, and how does he know it? Because most of the art that your stepmother sells is his father's painting, and he always knows his father's signature and the pen he uses, he is not going to be fooled by her.
Oh, and Yu-ra? She gets pregnant and wont even come out of her hotel room because the baby is already 7 months old— you heard from the Taeja's group hotel receptionist while you want to visit your husband.
She eventually got kicked out because Seungcheol's brother doesn't pay for the room anymore— yes, Han Yu-ra fucked with Seungcheol's big brother.
That's why she comes again to the Choi's manor, wanting to tell them that it's their son's baby.
Wrong choice.
The only one who was at home that time was Mrs. Choi and Grandma Taeja, they're having a girls talk while smiling to each other when the others talk or even laughing.
That's it until Yu-ra comes with her big belly and also a big suitcase.
She confidently tells both of them that she is currently pregnant by the seed of their oldest son.
“Well, they have a machine that can test the DNA of your baby while it's still in your stomach, they have it in Germany, want to try them?” Grandma Taeja says, without any words and panics evident in her eyes, Yu-ra gets out of that house and goes to her other victim's house.
Mrs. Choi and grandma Taeja then laugh at her antics, how can she be that confident without thinking of other things ahead of her?
“Oh! Han Yu-ra you're pregnant? Who's the father?” Se-hee technically freaks out when she sees Yu-ra standing in front of her porch while dragging a big ass suitcase.
Without any care of the world, Yu-ra blurts out “Your brother” that makes Se-hee's brain start to stop functioning at the very second.
She says that loud enough to be heard by Se-hee's mother and Se-hyuk himself with a woman she doesn't want to know anything about (probably his soon-to-be wife) hears it.
Well, upon hearing that of course Mrs. Yoon doesn't want her son's possible marriage to be ruined by some girl, so she gets up from her seat and walks to her while telling her to go away.
but when she gets closer to Yu-ra, she just shoves her away and goes straight to Se-hyuk who's still sitting at the dinner table.
He stood up nervously, and then the bomb finally said out loud, more clearly, “he's your suitor? don't accept him,” then Yu-ra's eyes made eye contact with Se-hyuk's “I'm pregnant, and he's the father”
The girl storms out furiously while grabbing her purse, straight to the open door of the apartment.
Meanwhile Yu-ra dragging Se-hyuk to his room, she chuckles slyly, before asking him, “how can this baby live in this small house?”
Se-hyuk takes both of her hands and looks up to her, “Why don't we live in your house? It's good for the baby to live there”
Hearing that Yu-ra's blood started to boil again, she slapped his right cheek, leaving him with a bright red cheek.
“Why can't you take the hint? if i'm still living there i would not even step foot on this small freaking apartment! my father disown me and then he proceeds to fucking throw me out!” She yells at him.
Well that’s the ending of hee story, you would say pretty tragic, right?
Meanwhile, she's suffering.
You actually have a good life, and now you sat on the dinner table with Soojin— the same cousin who took the pictures of you and Seungcheol the first time and Seungchae who is now helping your mom in the kitchen with her cooking.
Soojin and Seungchae have a competition, which of their food that you'll love, and basically the winner gets free chicken and beer for a month.
But after they finish cooking and you start to pick up the food with your chopstick, you suddenly feel a lump going up your throat, and now you feel like you want to throw up.
So you ran to the bathroom, there you threw all your guts out without any hesitation.
When you got out of the bathroom, you found three of them looking at each other in silence, “what?” You break the silent atmosphere because they all suddenly turn their heads at you.
Soojin spoke first, beating Seungchae that just opened her mouth, “when is the last time you had your period?”
Then everything starts to kick in. Your period is late by 3 weeks now, and you always have that morning sickness.
“I'll grab you a test” Your mother said hurriedly, after a moment.
When she took it out of her bag— which you don't know why it's there, you went to the bathroom again, for checking.
The result came out positive, so when you tell it to everyone, they start hugging you like crazy, and your mom brings you to the dining room, insisting that you have to eat more.
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
“So, any news today?” Seungcheol just got off work and he's asking you while hanging his coat.
You fiddle with your fingers, confused how to tell the big news to him, so you just said, “I'm having a morning sickness and my period is still not coming today”
Without any warning, Seungcheol holds your waist and behind your knees, and now he's carrying you with bridal style.
“Maybe you need some refreshment?” You see what he's doing now, so you just blurt out, “I think I might be pregnant!” while closing your eyes, probably expecting him to drop you immediately.
Instead, he puts you down slowly then just stares at you very lovingly with his eyes brimming with tears.
He opened his mouth like he would say something, but nothing came out, just a big gummy smile from him.
And then he starts getting closer, his hot breath fanning at your skin and your lips just a few centimeters away while holding eye contact with you.
That soon breaks by him and he starts kissing you slowly, passionately, while thanking you and praising you between the kisses.
Revenge is complete, and now you have a loving husband besides you while carrying his and your love.
#seventeen x reader#seventeen scenarios#seventeen smut#seventeen#seventeen au#choi seungcheol#choi seungcheol x reader#choi seungcheol smut#seungcheol#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol smut#scoups#scoups x reader#scoups smut#sweet revenge#kml.writes☆
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❝ DISTANT DESIRES ❞ — miya atsumu (18+)
cw. MDNI, f!reader, timeskip!atsumu, established relationship, pet names (baby, princess, darling), fluff to smut, sexting, sending risqué photos, teasing, phone sex, masturbation, language, dirty talk, not beta read word count. ~ 2.3k synopsis. atsumu’s away and misses the way you feel against his skin before a big game.
shutting down and closing your laptop, you push yourself up from the uncomfortable desk chair, groaning as you twist and turn, popping your neck and back as you stretch the tense muscles. another day at the office, done and dusted.
you switch out your fluffy fox office slippers for the black slingbacks you came in, walking towards the large floor-to-ceiling windows to take in the scene before you. the sun has set, the moon slowly coming out to play — it’s a friday night, groups of friends and couples alike take the streets to celebrate the end of a busy work week. city lights shine over the crowded roads, hustle and bustle illuminated by the vibrant colours of osaka’s nightlife.
you’d be one with the crowd below if not for the fatigue of crunch time seeping deep into your bones, it’s been one hell of a day, a week even, you’ve lost all concept of time, feeling a little more drained than usual without your love here.
the msby black jackals have a series of away games in tokyo, so naturally, atsumu’s been away for the past couple of days, and you miss him dearly. you understood why he had to go, it just didn’t make sense for him to make the commute everyday and waste precious time that could be spent resting, even if it meant still being by your side. it doesn’t make you miss him any less though, you’ve never been apart from him for more than a day since he asked you to move in with him two summers ago, and you feel it even more so now that he’s put on a ring on your finger.
casting one last look at the files and mountains of paperwork, you sigh, packing up your things and swinging your tote over your shoulder, preparing to finally leave the office. the rest of the floor is empty and the lights are dimmed, pretty much everyone in the building has already left for the night. honestly you were too busy to even notice, feeling stressed is an understatement with multiple deadlines looming.
bzzt. bzzt. your phone buzzes as you’re exiting the main elevator and walking to your parked car— 2 new messages from tsumu ♡
tsumu ♡ : hi princess tsumu ♡ : i miss you
just his name alone is enough to perk you up and put a smile on your weary face, spreading a warmth in your soul, like a fireplace crackling to life in a chilly cabin up in the northern mountains in the dead of winter.
me : hi baby me : i miss you too :(
climbing into the driver's seat, you allow yourself to sink into the leather seats, quickly shooting him a message that you'll be driving in case you take a while to respond and that you'll text him when you get home, getting the car started and heading home.
in the meantime, atsumu's sprawled out on his back over the plush ivory sheets on his queen bed, fresh out of the shower after practice and dinner with the boys, lazily toying with his phone while staring at the ceiling. he thinks the bed's much too large for just him alone, still defaulting to laying on his side of the bed — it's a force of habit that comes with living together, missing the warmth of your embrace and the scent of your strawberry vanilla shampoo lingering on what would've been your pillow.
he knows you’ve been slaving away at work while he was gone, you’re usually home by now but if you’re only just leaving the office at this hour, you’re probably clocking voluntary overtime just to clear as much off your plate as possible. you never liked bringing work home anyway.
he hopes you’ve been taking care of yourself, not that you don’t normally, but you tend to get stuck in your head sometimes when you’re busy and pushed to the limits. regardless, he always worries, despite you telling him that you’re a big girl and can take care of yourself, that he shouldn’t worry his pretty lil head about you.
atsumu thinks he has a growing distaste for away games. they usually mean that he has to be away from you, meaning he’s a tad bit more grouchy than usual, a bit more snappy, much to the team’s chagrin. there’s no point searching the stands for you when you won’t be there, no you to kiss him good luck before lining up, no you to dick down the night before for some fun, overnight loving and a good night’s sleep.
well, lady luck seems to be on his side because little did he know, you’d be coming home to find a very exciting parcel sitting at your doorstep.
you on the other hand, are slightly puzzled. strange, you didn’t receive any delivery notifications, but you won’t say no to a haul. who knows, it might just be what you need at the end of a shitty day, a little retail therapy doesn’t hurt nobody.
stepping out of your shoes and leaving your coat hung by the door, you bring the cardboard box up on your kitchen counter, carefully slicing it open with the first knife you could find. with a gasp, you lift up the contents of the box to find a very lovely set of lace lingerie. i forgot i ordered this.
in a burst of excitement, you immediately bring the dainty piece of fabric to the bedroom, peeling off your black pencil skirt and white button up. putting it on, you stand in front of floor length mirror, hands lightly tracing over the fine details of patterned lace in admiration. it’s beautiful, hugging your figure in all the right places, and you happen to know someone who would love it even more.
flicking on the light switch of your shared walk-in closet, your eyes zero-in on a green shoe box sitting in the corner of the room. it’s tucked away, no one’s ever really needed it, the contents being kept more so for nostalgic purposes, but you’re really hoping what you’re looking for is still in there.
kneeling down to open it up, you come face to face with atsumu’s high school jersey. inarizaki’s #7. perfect, just what you were looking for.
with a mischievous glint in your eyes, you put the jersey on. atsumu’s definitely grown larger and more buff in the several years since high school, but he wasn’t by any means small to begin with, the dri-fit material hanging loose on your frame and ending right by your upper thighs.
it unfortunately no longer smells like him, having been kept away for that long, but just a little spritz of his perfume should do the trick. it’s a far cry from having him here with you but it’ll do for now.
crawling into bed and getting tangled in the soft sheets, you raise the hem of the jersey just to tastefully expose your skimpily clad lower half, arching your back just a little and angling your phone to snap a photo. you’ve definitely taken more risqué photos in the past, for sure, but given you were both apart, much farther than just a short drive, you know this will be enough to set him off, leaving just enough room for imagination.
less than a minute after you hit send, your phone rings with an incoming call and checking the caller ID, sure enough, it’s atsumu.
biting back a smile, you feign innocence, propping your phone up between your ear and shoulder, picking at your manicured nails as you lean back against the soft pillows, “hi tsumu, everything okay?”
“come on, don’t play coy with me now baby, with my jersey too? you know exactly what you’re doin’.”
he is, as always, so so easy to rile up.
with a giggle, you egg him on, “i just wanted to show you what came in the mail today, isn’t it pretty?”
“it is, looks ravishing on you darling. you know exactly what i like don’t you? it’s in my favourite colour too.”
atsumu hums in delight, bringing the phone closer to his mouth and voice dropping barely above a whisper and muttering out the next few words, “though i must say, i think it looks better on the floor.”
you can’t help but bring your bottom lip between your teeth, sinful thoughts begin to run through your mind about what the night entails if this carries on. making sure he can hear your pouting through the phone, “mhmm but you’re not here to undress me, strip me of my clothes one article at a time.”
atsumu pictures you in your shared bed, mind conjuring images of you slowly peeling off your clothes, nipples perked as the cool night air hits your skin, peeking through the sheer lace fabric. he was already sporting a semi hard on, the beginning of an erection provoked by the delicious photo you sent earlier.
he can’t help but reach a hand down to touch himself over his boxers, letting out a desperate and breathy whine that you recognise all too well, “s-shit— baby, please, just help me out here.”
your eyes widened, breath hitching in your throat at the realisation, a wave of pleasure going straight to your heat.
breathing out an okay, you wiggle into a more comfortable position, bringing the collar of his jersey up to your nose and taking a deep inhale of his fragrance, closing your eyes and letting his voice and your imagination do the work for you.
your hands trail down your sides, pulling the delicate panties aside and letting your fingers brush against your clit, folds already glistening with arousal from the mere thoughts of atsumu laying in his bed, naked skin glazed with a sheen of sweat and pleasuring himself to pictures of you.
"talk to me, baby. can you describe to me what you’re doing?”
“touching myself, rubbing my clit.” you gasp, “feels good.”
“yeah? good girl, apply a little more pressure and when you’re ready, put a finger in for me?” he shakily breathes out, "i bet ya look real pretty right now."
you do as you’re told, clenching around your finger, his simple praise shooting straight to your core. oh how quickly the tables have turned, from taunting him to eagerly following his instructions without any second thoughts.
you can almost hear the wet sounds of his hand spreading the precum over his length and his strokes over his cock gradually increasing in speed, his voice breathless and broken,"that's it baby, slide another finger in?”
“that’s my good girl. imagine it's my thick fingers in your pussy right now." you moan at the delicious sensation, eyes squeezed shut as you pump your fingers in and out of your cunt. he hasn't been gone for long but you miss him so much, in more ways than one.
“i miss you so much, miss being inside you, your pretty face when you’re moaning my name, hmm?”
reaching up and rolling your nipples through the thin lace, you moan, “i do, i m-hah, miss you too tsumu!”
at this point, days worth of stress melts away as you chase your release, mind overwhelmed with pleasure as the saccharine voice of your lover leads you to an orgasm.
“i can’t wait to get back and fuck you for real, just doesn’t feel the same without you.” it’s almost like his phone is on his pillow right next to his face, sweet moans and groans tumbling out of atsumu’s mouth, straight into your ears, almost like he’s right here with you caged below him, breathing into your neck.
despite the distance, he feels so close, almost like he can touch you if he just reached forward, “keep going baby, don’t stop.”
your orgasm is building much faster than you initially anticipated, pleasure ripping through you as his wrecked voice and whimpering pushes you closer and closer to the edge as tears line your closed lids and threaten to spill over your cheeks.
“a-atsu!” you cry with urgency, grinding your sensitive bundle of nerves into the palm of your hand, barely holding on to the cusp of release. “atsu i’m gonna—“
“come on, let go f'me pretty.”
with a high-pitched cry, your body stiffens and the coil in your abdomen finally snaps, squeezing tight and releasing all over your fingers.
atsumu pictures it all too well, your muscles contracting under soft skin as you cum to his encouragement— that was the last push he needed and he’s letting out a string of expletives and sharp moans, sinking into the pale sheets as his release sputters over his stomach and lower abdomen.
the both of you lay in silence for a few moments, catching your breath as you come down from the high. you hear some movement through the phone, presumably atsumu cleaning up the mess he made on himself, before collapsing on the firm mattress again.
"man, i wish i could hold you and kiss you all over your pretty face." you can even hear the pout in his voice, heart clenching as you yearn to kiss it off his handsome face. all you can do at the moment is hum in response, wrapping your arms around a pillow and tucking your face into his jersey that you still had on, inhaling the scent of his perfume now mixed with your sweat, pretending that he’s here in bed with you.
regardless, you’re spent, the post-orgasm sleepiness paired with the long day you just had hitting you all at once and your eyes flutter shut, softly mumbling with a tired yet satisfied smile, “i love you, atsumu.”
“i love you too, princess.” atsumu sighs in quiet longing, “i’ll see you soon okay? be back before ya know it.”
bzzt. bzzt. just as he’s about to drift off into slumber, his phone buzzes with an unread message from kiyoomi in the adjoining suite next to his— 1 new message from omi-omi
omi-omi : next time you’re calling your fiancé and beating your meat, please keep it down
notes. @atsumou surprise >:) was listening to snooze - sza while adding the last touches reblogs & interactions are always appreciated !
© yogurtkags. please do not repost, plagiarise, or translate my work.
#ᯓ★ : written in the stars !#₊˚࿔*:·୧ : cid’s fantasies !#miya atsumu#atsumu x reader#atsumu smut#miya atsumu x reader#miya atsumu smut#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu#hq#haikyuu smut#hq smut
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sapphire-hearted (part four)
Aemond Targaryen x f!reader
Aemond is not one who shares those which he thinks belong to him. Including you, as you'll soon find out after an eventful little feast.
themes/warnings: jealous!Aemond, third and fourth parties (but not really), Aemond is a stubborn and possesive arse, drunk Aegon - huzzah!
series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist
a/n: I can't believe it's been a year since I updated this fiery miniseries! Apologies if I couldn't tag everyone who asked from the previous chapter - taglist is now closed 💙
The necklace is perhaps the most beautiful piece of jewelry you've ever seen.
With an intricate interwoven chain of Valyrian steel, and a sapphire pendant inlaid in a burnt bronze frame that glowed dark green in some lights, the frame displaying carvings that resemble Vhagar's scales.
There is no question to it. Not an inkling of doubt.
This gift is from Aemond.
"You simply found this when you arrived?" you asked your lady-in-waiting, as you pick up the necklace from its velvet casing and study it against the faint firelight in your chambers.
"Yes, my lady," she responds promptly. "Shall I fasten it upon you before you depart for the King's feast?"
Your mind forms almost immediately, resolute in your decision. "No, it will not be of any use to me this night. You may keep it away in my boudoir."
The thought of it around your neck is a pleasant one, to be sure. It is such a thing of beauty, fit to be worn to a royal gathering. But what message might it signal to the others?
What purpose might it serve - especially to Aemond - that you wear something that symbolises him?
All while your companion is Ramsay, with whom you hope to be betrothed.
And while Alys is likely draped upon Aemond's arm. That slimy, bastard witch.
You will not give in, and give him what he wants.
The necklace is far from enough to make up for how he has wronged you, so it stays in your chambers, safely tucked away in its casing, not to be worn until Aemond sets things right.
If he ever will.
Ramsay arrives at your door soon enough, accompanied by two of Aegon's guards. The awe in his gaze as he takes you in is so evident, so pure in its apparent innocence. Unlike Aemond's, who would be undressing you with a single passing look.
Unlike Aemond's, who - despite his trangressions - looks at you like he would burn the entire Seven Kingdoms for your hand.
But he has relinquished your hand when he took that witch to bed.
"You look dashing as ever, my Lord," you curtsy in greeting, as Ramsay kisses your hand. He is clad in a tunic in House Beesbury's yellow and paly black, as you are wearing a gown in your own House's hues.
If not the necklace from Aemond, branding you as his, why not something of Beesbury? It would anger Aemond so, but you are feeling petulant. Why can't you take a jab at him after what he had done?
"And what a lovely sash you wear," you say, observing his attire. "Mayhaps I might display this on my person? Have it as a sort of attachment upon my skirts? I would be proud to have everyone at the feast know that we have come together."
"Of course! I would be honoured, my lady." He immediately relinquishes it, handing it to your lady-in-waiting, who then fastens it around your waist. The colour is striking in contrast. The piece of cloth surely will not go unnoticed.
You make your way through the Red Keep, your arm entwined with Ramsay's. Sounds of the revelry make themselves heard as you near Aegon's private dining hall.
As the guards open the doors, you hear your names announced. Almost all the attendees are already sat around the table. Aegon and his host of sycophants, particularly Lord Reyne and Lord Estermont. Helaena and her lady companions. Tyland Lannister and his betrothed. Even Ser Criston Cole, who has never been one to partake in merrymaking, usually standing guard in the corner. There are some others whose names escape you, as you find your seats - among the last ones which remain empty, right next to Aemond and Alys.
"Welcome, dear lovely guests, welcome!" Aegon walks over to you, already on his fifth or sixth goblet of firewine. "Please find your seats, have a drink - or seven drinks, preferably, and... oh! Isn't that something, my lady? Beesbury yellow?" Not giving mind to any boundaries, he toys with the sash tied around your waist.
Aemond twists around in his seat, catching sight of you for the first time.
His pupil dilates considerably, with a single glance at your face, then down to your décolletage... where the necklace is nought to be seen.
What he sees, raking over your figure, is that sickening shade of bright yellow. That Beesbury sash tainting the beauty of your gown.
Tainting the woman who is rightfully his.
His hand instinctively goes to the scabbard in his belt, though his sword remains in his chambers. It matters not, he can just as easily demand one from the Kingsguard.
Because the rat who calls himself Ramsay has surrendered any desire to stay alive.
"So... you here," Aegon guides you to your seat, with his arm loosely draped around your waist. "And you right there," he adds to Ramsay.
If you didn't know any better, you'd think the seating arrangement is accidental. But you know Aegon - he surely planned it to be Ramsay, you, Aemond and Alys beside each other.
Aemond openly stares at you as you settle down to his left.
"My Prince," Ramsay greets from your other side, "Lady Alys."
"Oh, it's just Alys, m'lord," she clarifies, unabashed. "I am no Lady. I am simply here at the behest of my dear Aemond."
"Prince Aemond is fortunate to have you as his companion, Alys," you smile sweetly, concealing any ire you might have. "As I am fortunate to have Lord Beesbury by my side."
Alys nods, raising her cup to you. To anyone, it's an innocent enough gesture, but you see her up close, and you see into the depths of the witch's gaze. She knows about you and Aemond, of course she does.
The attention of your companions are diverted, and Aemond wastes no time in leaning closer to you. He grips your thigh underneath the table, away from any prying eyes.
"My love," he purrs, "you never fail to take my breath away. Although I never thought you would sully yourself by wearing that. I trust you received my gift?"
You cross your legs so that his hand falls off, but it doesn't faze him. He simply finds purchase yet again, this time digging harder into your flesh. So warm, it almost feels as if your skirts do nothing to prevent his encroaching touch.
"Hmm, don't test me, now," he warns, lips curling back in annoyance. His tone is so deep you feel the heat pooling in your core.
"I could say the same to you," you counter. "Do not lay a hand on me, my prince. Especially not in the presence of my betrothed." You push his hand away, and he relents for the moment, reaching for his goblet and downing its contents in one angry swig.
"And by betrothed, you must mean that you have reconsidered my proposal and agree to be wed to me, your only love," he says, daring you to challenge him.
"You are mistaken, Aemond," you respond coolly. "I do appreciate the necklace. It is a marvel, indeed. But there is a reason why I don something of Lord Ramsay's instead of it. I am not yours. I feared the message it would send were I to wear the necklace to this feast."
"What message, my love? The truth? That you are mine and mine alone?"
"That is finished - "
"If you value Lord Beesbury's life by any small measure, you would not speak to me of such vile ideas. He will not have you, lest he wishes his head to no longer rest upon his shoulders."
"Resorting to threats now, are we?" you spit venomously. "You will not harm him. Or I swear to you on my mother's memory that I will never speak with you again."
That shuts him up. He exhales deeply, weighing your words, studying your expression. He wants to fight back and to call your bluff, but it is no use. His gaze is drawn down to your lips, and he moves closer just an inch, his own lips parted in longing and torment.
"Well, it seems we may have more cause for celebration!" Aegon bellows from the head of the table, with a grinning Ramsay standing by his side. You tear your attention away from Aemond, but he lingers on you, until his brother calls out for him. "Aemond! You must have known about this, dear brother, as I understand you and the lady have always been close."
The guests share glances, already assuming what the news might be, but none of them say a word for fear of their Prince Aemond.
"Iderēbagon aōha udra sȳrī, lēkia." Choose your words wisely, brother, Aemond warns him. The mood of the entire room shifts, as it inevitably does whenever Aemond speaks.
"Oh come now, none of that!" Aegon groans, drunk and unamused. Nothing will bring his spirits down, not even his far more intimidating younger brother. "These are happy news. Something about a successful betrothal, I hear?" he declares, nudging Ramsay to make the announcement.
Ramsay locks eyes with you, and you manage to give a stiff smile, aware of the simmering rage of the one seated beside you.
"Allow me," Aemond stands, raising his cup to the entire table.
"Even better," Aegon shrugs, "you have always been excellent at dinner proclamations, lēkia." Brother, he addresses Aemond, his own Valyrian disjointed and careless.
Aegon sits back down and raises his cup. A confused but still smiling Ramsay returns to sit next to you.
Ramsay hurriedly tells you, "I was hoping to share the news myself, my lady, but - "
"Do I not have your attention, Lord Beesbury?" Aemond interrupts.
"O-of course, you do, my prince," Ramsay stammers, reaching for his cup with shaky fingers. You take notice and place your hand atop his to provide comfort.
Someone else takes notice, unfortunately.
"A toast," Aemond voices clearly, and a hush falls over the room, "to a new betrothal."
"Hear, hear," Aegon responds, taking a sip of firewine and waving for the others to do the same.
But Aemond is not finished just yet. "We are not often afforded the privilege to marry for love, and that is what makes this union so exceptional."
You stiffen in your seat, dreading the next words that you know will come out of his mouth. For you know him so well. You know Aemond's design.
"It is an honour to take my love to be my wife," he raises his cup as he gestures to you, and you swear you could hear a pin drop in the deafening silence that ensued. "She is already the keeper of my heart, so the ceremony will only be a formality. But I shall take her as mine in every way that I can. In front of the old gods and the new."
You are unable to drop Aemond's gaze, unable to see the look of betrayal Ramsay is giving you.
"Hear, hear," Ser Criston offers, in an attempt to cut through the tension.
Aegon releases a fit of laughter, prompting his fawners to follow suit.
"Seven hells!" he exclaims. "More wine, more wine for all!"
Aemond rushes to you, pulling you out of your chair, not paying mind to anything or anyone else.
"Come with me," he commands, his fingers tight around your wrist.
You feel powerless as you let him herd you away from the table and out of the hall.
"Oh, would you look at them!" Aegon practically squeals, and calls after you, "It is customary for the bedding to be after the wedding, you two! But then again, who fucking cares?"
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#aemond targaryen#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen imagine#ewan mitchell
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Welcome back to Overcomplicating the Pyrrhian Tribes! This week: the beloved RainWings!!
You know what's up. Joy Ang and Tui are so cool and I am just me.
Details and explanation below!
Otherwise, next week are the chilly IceWings! See you then!!!
More overcomplicated dragons.
I knew the RainWings would be really important, and I think they turned out the best of all the ones I've done. I think they're my favourite because they are basically the perfect mix of extra realism spice without altering Joy's design too much. The SkyWing design is awesome and I love it to bits, but it is one of the two that are the farthest from canon.
As for the RainWing.... I had. So. Much. FUN. I heavily used chameleons and snakes - they're basically the two main species on my research board - but there is a dash of cuttlefish and frilled lizard in there. Where, you ask? Well if you look closely, all over the RainWing are little tiny flecks of darker colour. I found a beautiful reference of a close-up on a cuttlefish eye. Its skin is dotted in thousands of little marks and I thought that would be perfect for the RainWing, who can camouflage just as well as them. I don't know if it's been discussed in canon but I bet they could animate their scales more than just colour shifting - cuttlefish are known for using their rapidly shifting patterns to hypnotize prey. RainWings could do it too, sort of like Ka from Disney's 2D animated Jungle Book.
Speaking of Ka - snakes. I love snakes. The head structure of the RainWing here is very smooth and rounded with muscles based on snakes like the python. I was even going to originally draw them in a venom striking pose and got as far as completing the lineart, but ultimately decided it wouldn't fit the calm portraits of the other tribes.
Will you see it in the future? Hell yeah! Pure, unhinged, magical death spit. Looking at it now I might try to alter it to be a full piece of Glory attacking Scarlet or Crocodile.
In the striking pose you can see the frills much better, but I still took my time on this serene pose (this is where the frilled lizard influence comes in). If you notice that I've drawn every scale (every single scale) then, yes, I am insane. If you didn't know that yet, you know it now. You have to draw guide lines and follow them meticulously while you wonder why you don't make a scale brush, and then cry because you know the randomness and imperfections that come from drawing a thousand circles is how it looks natural. The eye area is actually my favourite part, since drawing dragon eyelids was the original inspiration for doing this. Did I mention that? I wanted to draw eyelids.
EYELIDS.
I digress. Besides the eyelids, I like the frills on the action pose, but this pose is where I like the body scales more. When zooming in on my chameleon colour refs, I noticed the very rhythmical distribution of their scales and figured I would give it a try. They actually do have extra large circular scales along their bodies, which is where I guess the canon RainWing design gets it from. Very clever, Joy!
Anyway, on this version, those small circular scales appear on the face. Not only that, but I added a bit of influence from the snouts of my ref chameleons by extending the nose bridges to wrap around the nose horn. They blend in so seamlessly and that's the reason why I love this design - it's subtle, barely there, mostly Joy but a little extra.
Wow, I talk too much. If you're here, thank you! It's not mandatory to read, but very appreciated. I heard once that visitors at an art gallery look at each piece an average of 2-3 seconds. Or was it 3-6? Idk, but it was shockingly short, and ever since then I've tried to encourage myself to pay more respect to other artists and glean their work for little details I skip after that quick glance. I could talk so much more about these designs but that would be like an hour long video, each, lol. If you have questions about anything, ask away!
#wof#wings of fire#wof art#my art#digital art#art#rainwing#wof rainwing#wof fanart#Overcomplicating the WOF Tribes
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my favourite birthday girl | j.fisher x reader
request: i would like to request can it be where jere and i are best friends and its my bday belly and conrad throw a surprise bday party for me at the becks beach house and jeremiah & i go upstairs and we go in his bedroom he confesses that he liked me since last summer and i have my first time with jere trying different sex positions like hes on top of me and im on top of him riding him & doing cowgirl style position lots of kissing can it be smut/angst and is it okay if i include my name and if not you can do y/n thanks babe❤️❤️❤️❤️🫶🏻🥰
a/n: i fricking LOVE this!! i had so much fun writing it and i hope you all enjoy!
warnings: SMUT (minors DNI), oral (fem! receiving), swearing, alcohol consumption, and jeremiah being a total sweetheart
—
the sun was shining brightly through the windows of my bedroom, the morning breeze coming through smelling of sea salt. i flutter my eyes open, taking in the warmth of the summer. i reach for my phone that was charging by my bed side. the moment the lockscreen wakes, it’s full of birthday messages.
i feel myself smile as i go through the individual texts from all my friends back home in maine. i respond to them all, thanking each of them for the kind and loving messages.
after doing so, i finally decide that it’s time for me to get out of bed. i stretch out the slumber from my body before crawling out of the warm bed. i grab my phone and my bluetooth speaker and head over to my bathroom to start my birthday right.
cruel summer by taylor swift starts playing loudly as i pull off my pajamas, which was in reality one of jeremiah’s old t-shirts. i decide to text my friends to see what the plans were for the day, assuming they had something in mind.
—
SUMMER GANG☀️🌊🫶
y/n!
goodmorning guys!! what are the plans for today?
stevie:
con and i are going fishing at the pier today
belly <3:
i told my mom that i’ll go to the store with her today!! sorry girl!
y/n!:
that’s fine haha have fun! tell laur i said hi:)
j:
i should be available today i think
connie:
i thought ur coming fishing?
stevie:
yeah!! boys trip!!
belly <3:
wow i’ve nvr seen us all so busy lol
j:
wdym it’s a regular day
connie:
nvm mom says u need to clean ur room jere
stevie:
LOL
belly <3:
so true, it’s gross jeremiah
j:
shut upp
urs isn’t any better bells
belly <3:
:(
y/n!:
stop being mean j
—
i close my phone, a bit disappointed that it appeared that all my friends forgot about my birthday. i try to shake it off and assume that they’re all busy, so remembering a birthday isn’t that big of a deal.
i step into my shower, washing my hair with my coconut shampoo and conditioner, lathering my body with body wash, and shaving every inch of my body. i sing to taylor swift as i shower, feeling my muscles relax in the warm water. i dry myself off with a towel and pull on a cute purple summer dress that i had gotten earlier last week.
after putting on some makeup and doing my hair, i figured that i was ready to go downstairs to see my family. at least they would remember my birthday.
you only turn seventeen once, plus laurel, susannah, and my mom always told me that seventeen is an amazing year.
my mom was preparing my favourite smoothie bowl when i got to the kitchen. her face lit up after seeing me turn the corner and a smile drawn up her face, “happy birthday, my babygirl!” she exclaimed, pulling me into a tight embrace.
i hug her back, “thank you, momma!”
she hands me the beautiful smoothie bowl, “here you go, sugar! let me go get you your presents!”
my mom scurries away to her office before returning with multiple gifts all wrapped up in colourful gift wrap. she places them on the kitchen island before sitting down beside me.
i was already half way done my breakfast when my dad and baby sister came into the kitchen.
“happy seventeenth, babydoll” my dad grins, planting a kiss on my forehead, “i can’t believe how grown up you are already.”
“happy birthday sissy!” my four year old sister yells, hugging my leg. i ruffle her hair, thanking the both of them.
my mom urges me to open up the presents, she had always been a huge gift giver — seeing people’s reactions were her favourite thing. i open the sealed boxes, revealing lululemon clothing, a new ipad, gorgeous jewelry, and some makeup products that i’ve been wanting to get.
“mom!” i exclaim, in shock of the overwhelming amount of gifts, “you didn’t have to!”
“oh, honey,” she coos, brushing my hair, “it’s your seventeenth birthday! of course i had to, do you like them?”
i look at her with my mouth opened agape, “yes, yes! of course i love them all! you know me so well, thank you!”
my arms wrap around my mom, squeezing her tight.
“my first baby,” she whispers into my ear so my sister, lindsay, doesn’t hear her, “i love you with my whole heart.”
i finish up the rest of my breakfast, while also admiring my new items. my dad also takes a few photos of us, most likely to post on his facebook page later. luckily, i look decent right now.
“eat up,” my dad says to me, “your friends are probably waiting for you.”
i shrug, “they’re all busy today.”
my mom turns to me with a raised eyebrow, “seriously? do you want me to call susannah?”
i shake my head quickly, “no! it’s alright, really.”
“i’m sorry, baby” my dad squeezes my shoulder, “you can hang out with us today.”
i give him a small smile, “that sounds good.”
the rest of the day was uneventful, well not exactly. it was moreso just a typical day for us. my sister and i went swimming in our pool, i watched tv with my parents, and scrolled through my phone a ton. i really didn’t want to confront my friends about them forgetting my birthday, it would’ve been immature was what i told myself. it’s not like i’m six anymore.
i was laying on my bed when i received a text message.
—
j:
heyy pretty
wanna come over? we just came back from fishing 🎣
y/n!:
sure :)
j:
awesome! see you soon!!
also wear something nice ;)
y/n!:
why?
j:
not that you don’t always look nice!!!
my mom wants to take photos or smt lol
y/n!:
oooook
—
my brows furrow in slight confusion of the request but i shrug it off. i get up from my laying position and go to my closet to find something ‘nice’. i find a black satin slip dress that i brought from back home, i figured this would be nice enough. i put it on and look at myself in front of my mirror.
i smooth down the material of the dress, checking how it looks from the side and from behind. i silently pray that jeremiah would like it, i’ve overheard him, conrad, and steven talk about how jeremiah is an ass man multiple times — considering how the satin material of the dress perfectly fits my bum, i’m convinced he’ll appreciate it.
i grab my phone, sunglasses, and my favourite lip gloss before heading downstairs. i see my parents cuddled up on the couch, watching a movie together with my sister fast asleep in the space next to them.
i slide on my white converse and head over to them, “i’m going over to the fishers.” i tell them. they smile and remind me to have fun and to be home by two am.
the walk over to the fisher summer home is brief, a quick five minute walk. them living only two houses over from mine always came in handy. i open up the front door before my vision became black.
“do you trust me?” he says, jeremiah’s hands clamped over my eyes.
“if you ruin my mascara, j, i might cry.” i joke, “yes, i do trust you.”
“okay, good.” i can hear his infamous smile in his voice, “come with me.”
he guides me slowly through the house, his hands still over my eyes. jeremiah lifts them off and it takes me a moment before noticing all the decorations put up around the kitchen. there are streamers hanging from the walls and across the ceilings, so many pretty balloons in every corner of the room, a huge ‘happy birthday’ sign hanging on the cupboards.
my hand flyes to clamp over my open mouth, “oh my god!”
steven, belly, laurel, susannah, and conrad all jump up from their hiding spot behind the kitchen island.
“surprise!” they all scream out. i smile widely, taking in everything,
“you guys!” i gush, as im being pulled into a hug from jeremiah, “thank you!”
his muscular arms hold me and he plants two kisses on my hair, “did you really think we forgot your birthday, pretty girl?”
i laugh, “well maybe! you guys are forgetful sometimes… like the time you forgot belly and i at the walmart!”
he rolls his eyes playfully, “oh shush, that was one time!”
“we never forget birthdays here.” susannah giggles before also hugging me, “happy birthday my gorgeous and beaming girl.”
everyone takes their turn in hugging me and wishing me a happy birthday. i thank each of them individually, the smile never leaving my face once.
“who planned this?” i ask laurel, who was carefully pulling out the birthday cake from the fridge.
“it was all belly and connie’s idea” she smiles, “now go sit!”
i take my seat next to jeremiah and steven before laurel brings the cake with seventeen candles on it in front of me. they all sing happy birthday to me and i close my eyes to make a wish.
every year since i was five years old, my birthday wish has been the same. not even just for my birthday, anytime i saw a shooting star, or tossed a penny in a fountain, or honestly any other occasion that required making a wish — it has always been the same.
it was wishing for jeremiah to notice me in the same way that i see him. it’s all i’ve ever wanted, as stupid as it can get.
i blow out all the candles and susannah cuts up the cake into slices before serving it to everyone. belly reminds me of all the birthday presents that they had gotten me, and to open it later.
after cake, susannah and laurel agree to leave the home to go to a cocktail bar so that the kids can have the house to themselves for a few hours. more teenagers from cousins start showing up, all of them wishing me a happy birthday as they come in.
drinks are being served, music is playing loudly off the multiple speakers scatter around the home, beer pong matches are being played by the pool, people dancing.
jeremiah stays next to me for the whole night, we chat with a few of our friends while sipping our seltzers.
“do you wanna go upstairs for a bit?” jeremiah says to me in a hushed tone, “y’know, to get away from this?”
i nod, “yeah, for sure.”
he smiles, taking my hand into his own and guiding me through the crowd and up the stairs. we walk to his bedroom, he closes the door behind me and locks it. jeremiah places his drink on his dresser and offers to put mine next to it, i agree and soon we’re both seated on his bed.
we make small talk, him asking about my birthday so far as he rummages around in his desk drawer. he sits back down beside me, facing me. he places a small velvet box into my hands,
“open it, my favourite birthday girl.” he smirks, looking into my eyes. his hand was on my thigh and i can feel myself blushing.
i think i can get lost in his ocean eyes, they’re so beautiful and full of life. i smile and carefully open it, inside was a gorgeous golden ring with a large (what im assuming was a fake) diamond on it.
“j…” i gasp, lifting the ring out of its box and admiring it, “this must have costed a fortune.”
he shrugs, “anything for you, look on the band.”
i bring the ring closer to my eyes and see that there’s an engraving on the inside of the band.
in love with my best friend <3
my jaw drops, “jeremiah?”
i look up at him, our eyes interlocking. he slowly nods, “i love you, y/n — i’ve always have, i thought it was a childhood crush and i don’t think i really realized until last summer that i truly do love you.”
“can i?” he asks, taking the ring from my hand. i nod and he carefully slips it onto my finger before being it to his lips and kissing it.
i pull him into a kiss, my hands rested on his cheeks and his on my waist. he kissed back almost immediately. my hands move down to his built chest and gently push him down onto his back, our lips never leaving each others. i adjust my legs so im straddled on him,
“i’ve always loved you too.” i whisper against his lips, he smiles into the kiss and kisses me harder.
his fingers fiddle with the edge of my dress, hands sliding up and down the back of my thighs before squeezing my ass slowly, “god, i couldn’t take my eyes off of you in this dress. it makes your body look so fucking good.” jeremiah groans.
i lower my crotch onto the evident tent in his pants, he gasps at the contact while slowly grind my hips on his.
“fuck, you’re gonna make me come in my pants.” he moans into my ear as i flip my hair onto one side. i bring my face to his jawline, kissing it and licking the soft skin. his hands tighten around my ass and i moan at the contact.
his hand slips under my dress and to the lace material of my thong, his finger slide underneath the band of it. he lifts it before letting it go, the snap of my underwear against my skin making me moan louder.
“sit on my face,” he tells me in a low voice, i feel myself getting even more wet and excited at the tone of it, “let me give you another birthday gift.”
he lifts me by the waist and moves me so my core is hovering above his mouth. i grab onto his head board while jeremiah slowly moves the lace material to the side and lowers me onto his face.
i gasp loudly when his tongue licks a long stride between my folds. he moans into me, “fuck, you’re so wet for me, baby.” he mumbles against me, the vibrations causing me to throw my head back in pleasure.
jeremiah dips his tongue into me, licking up all the juices and tracing figure eights against me. i squeeze the headboard tighter, becoming a moaning mess quickly. his tongue is magic. he fucks me with his mouth, my thighs shaking around his head,
“shit, jere.” i cry out, feeling my high coming closer. his hands squeeze my ass yet again before landing a smack on my left ass cheek. i moan loudly in response, my body flowing with immense pleasure, “fuck, i’m gonna come!”
he never slows his tongue as i feel my orgasm come crashing down on me. waves of pure pleasure crashing down. jeremiah licks up every last drop as i slowly come down from the high. i move myself down from his face and back down towards his groin. i lean down to kiss his passionately, tasting myself on his lips,
“holy shit, i can eat you out all day long.” he says to me as his hands fumble with his pants. he kicks off his pants and boxers. his erection slaps his lower abdomen and i drool at the sight of it. it’s huge, red tip begging for attention and veins pulsating on the sides of it.
i move to give him a blowjob but his grip on my waist prevents me from moving, “it’s your birthday.” jeremiah tells me, “you can give me head another time.” he winks
my hips position themselves above his thick and veiny cock and i lower myself onto it. he fills me up perfectly and we both moan loudly at the same time. every inch of him inside on me as i bottom out.
i slowly start rocking my hips against him, both of us becoming a panting mess. his hands never leave my hips, lifting me and slamming me back down onto his dick.
“you feel so good, baby” he praises, “you tight pussy feels amazing around me, fuck”
i continue riding him, my hands tangled up in his hair, pulling it which makes him moan.
“i- i think your cock was made for me.” i whisper in his ear before kissing him harshly.
he smirks, “oh yeah?”
and i nodded feverishly before he flips us around so im on my back and his on top of me, “sorry baby, i want to be in control now”
he pulls out almost entirely before slamming himself back in, the new position making him hit me even deeper than he was before. he thrusts harder and deeper, my back arches and i grab onto the sheets beside me, “fuck i’m close” i cry
“me too, hold on.” he continues fucking me, littering kissing on my face and neck. i can feel my inner muscles squeezing around him which makes jeremiah groan, “i’m fucking gonna come.”
“let it go.” he encourages me, his thumb going down to start abusing the bundle of nerves. almost immediately, i feel myself orgasm. my legs tightening around his waist and i feel him finish inside of me. he releases a series of curse words as he fucks us both through our orgasms.
a few moments after he pulls out and rolls next to me. we’re both breathing heavily, trying to catch our breaths, “holy shit” i pant out, looking over at him.
he grins, “that was amazing.”
“beyond amazing.” i repeat and he laughs,
“fuck, i should’ve asked you this before.” he says, reaching over to cup my face, “will you be my girlfriend, y/n?”
i blush, “yes, a hundred times yes!”
—
taglist! @randomaccountworld123 @bxbyyyjocelyn @20nugs @jeremiahxaesthetic
#jeremiah fisher fanfic#jeremiah fisher imagine#jeremiah fisher x reader#tsitp imagine#jeremiah fisher x y/n#tsitp x reader#jeremiah fisher angst#jeremiah fanfic#jeremiah x reader#jeremiah fisher fanfiction#jeremiah fisher fluff#jeremiah fisher smut#tsitp smut#the summer i turned pretty x reader#the summer i turned pretty imagine#the summer i turned pretty smut#the summer i turned pretty fanfic
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𝕋𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤
Pairing: Rafayel x Fem!Reader Prompt: “You left me to drown.” Words: ~2.2k Genre: Light Angst, Comfort, Suggestive (mild)
[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]
The sky was awash with streaks of crimson and gold bleeding into the indigo expanse, signaling the impending dusk.
You stopped beside the colossal sea stack, admiring the breathtaking view. Waves crashed against the weathered rocks with gentle tranquility, a stark contrast to the turmoil within your heart.
“Are you done running?” a whispered voice carried away by the salty breeze.
Voice that you hadn’t heard for almost a year.
You couldn’t help the wry chuckle escaping your lips. “Last time I remember, I was the one waking up to an empty bed after a night of giving myself to you.”
Your skin involuntarily tingled with the residual sensation of his touch. His lips, warm and insistent, had traced a map of pleasure across your skin, exploring every curve and contour with a thoroughness that left you breathless and wanting more.
Months-long restrained emotion bubbled up to the surface. “Thomas couldn't find you, your aunt couldn't find you, even your bodyguard couldn't find you. So pray tell Rafayel, are you done running?”
Even in the fading light, you could see him taken aback by the hostility dripping from your words.
“I thought you would be happy to see me after all of this time.”
Exasperatedly you turned towards him, finding him standing several steps away from you.
He looked the same, if not even more handsome, and you hated that it made the fury inside your heart momentarily dim.
All-white button-up and trousers hugged his figure, one he knew that you loved as if it was a tactic to unravel you. He was a blank canvas in the explosion of colours surrounding you both.
“No notes, no messages, all I'm left with is a ridiculously priced ring adorning my finger.” You rubbed the now empty ring finger, still feeling the phantom weight of the gemstone.
He didn’t miss the gesture. “Did you not like the ring? Is that why you threw it away to the depth of the sea?”
“Is that all you can say after walking out of my life?” Your voice rising, annoyed at his nonchalance.
Annoyed at the absurdity of this situation like you hadn’t seen each other for months.
His brows furrowed at the accusation. “I did not walk out of your life, didn’t you receive the stuff I sent you?”
If he was referring to the plethora of stuff stacked inside a box under your bed collecting dust, then yes you did receive them.
You had attempted to decipher the meaning behind the items he sent each month, desperately trying to connect them with his whereabouts, but to no avail.
Even with the resources and connections Thomas had, Rafayel seemed to be always one step ahead, not leaving any breadcrumbs of where he might have gone next.
“You are present in all of my paintings; you remain a constant in my thoughts,” he continued when you remained silent.
Since his departure, new paintings arrived biweekly or monthly at Mo Art Studio, each delivery serving as a soothing balm for Thomas's weary soul.
It wasn't until his manager pointed out certain colour choices and what you had always considered random lines and patterns that you began to notice elements of yourself in his paintings; the shade of your irises, the main lines on your palms, the arch of your eyebrows watching his antics.
You gritted your teeth. “Provide a reasonable explanation for your lack of verbal communication.”
He tore away from your gaze, suddenly looking timid, hand rubbing the back of his neck. It was a habit of his whenever he felt nervous. “I embark on a self-discovery,” he began.
“I needed some time for internal reflection. It allows me to really dive deep into my thoughts and emotions without any external distractions—just let me explain first,” he said rapidly before you could chide him on thinking that you were a distraction.
Honestly, you couldn’t even voice out any response as that wasn’t the answer you were expecting.
“I've been overly reliant on you, and limiting our communication forced me to depend on my own. I want to be someone you can rely on instead; someone you can lean and depend on.”
“What about that woman, then?” you blurted out, the question heavy on the tip of your tongue ever since you had first come across the article.
It had been seven months and two weeks since his absence when you stumbled upon the article.
Normally, you weren't particularly tuned into the fashion industry, but somehow the news from Nexusburg had found its way onto your daily curated feed.
You had vaguely recognised the designer’s striking face and figure. Your attention, however, zoomed in on those unmistakable tendrils of dusky purple hair, despite most of his head being obscured by the dark tint of the limousine’s window.
“I commissioned her to create… something of great significance.” You sensed ambiguity lacing his words. “You know how reporters constantly fabricate stories that lack truth.”
“Do they, really? Lack of truth?”
Rafayel approached you with hesitant steps, fearing you might slip away from his advance.
“You left me to drown, Rafayel.” The words pierced through him like shards of glass. “Drowning in ‘what if’s’, drowning in my insecurity.”
As he drew near, he took in the multitude of emotions playing across your face: hurt, confusion, anger.
“You were gone for eight months. Eight months! Did you believe that merely slipping a ring onto my finger would make me feel better for your absence?”
The anger drained your body of energy as you sank onto the rock behind. Jagged edges kept you painfully aware that this was reality, not a mere figment of your imagination.
“I'm sorry,” he pleaded.
“You're selfish, Rafayel,” your voice trembled with a mixture of anger and hurt. “You know my insecurity gets the best of me at times, and yet you didn't even stop to think for once on how I would feel…this is not the first time.”
You could see the moment realisation began to flicker in his bluish-pink eyes.
When Rafayel hired a new female bodyguard and began spending a significant amount of time with her, it left you feeling uneasy.
It wasn’t until his own bodyguard confronted him in front of you, chastising him for neglecting your feelings and the lack of communication as she noticed your distress, that you finally felt at ease with their relationship. You understood their brother-sister dynamics.
But this time, days turn to weeks, and weeks turn to months since you last saw him. Doubts began to plague your mind.
“It was nothing like that,” he protested. “Nexusburg was my last stop. I had thought of returning as soon as the designer finished her work.”
The article's prominently highlighted phrase 'SECRET ROMANCE' had stirred your restless heart to its breaking point that day.
You recalled standing atop the very sea stack towering behind you, witnessing the light glinting off the ring as you cast it into the unforgiving waves below.
"You went on a journey of self-discovery, but it seems like you've forgotten why you needed it in the first place.”
Rafayel's heart constricted with guilt. “I never meant to make you feel that way, I—I thought you would understand.”
Then, he retrieved something from his pocket, causing your breath to catch in your throat.
“How…?!”
The marquise-cut lilac tanzanite glimmered with a captivating hue, casting a hypnotic light against the backdrop of twilight skies. Delicate accents of soft pink pearls surrounded the gemstone, lending a gentle touch to the intricate design.
It still managed to steal your breath away, its beauty as enchanting as ever.
“I specifically requested the bijoutier to blend my crushed scales into the band. It brings me comfort knowing that you’re safe, and knowing that you think of me whenever you touch it.”
He traced his finger along the smooth surface of the gemstone, the memory of him quietly placing the ring while you slept was as clear as yesterday in his mind.
The outline of your figure etched against the soft glow of dawn. Vivid shade of pinkish-red blemishes against your skin, evidence of the intense night shared between the two of you.
“It motivates me to finish my journey, so I can return to your embrace as soon as possible… Until you threw it away and I thought of the worst.”
You gazed at him in disbelief as he unveiled that the ring held far greater significance than you had ever imagined.
Who would have thought that he could charm the ring that way? Everything slowly made sense why he had immediately called you repeatedly moments after you threw the ring.
Then there was Aunt Talia rushing towards you, tousled and wide-eyed, far from her normally immaculate appearance as you made your way back down.
Barefooted, as if she had rushed out of her nearby house in a hurry.
He returned just two days after you had discarded the ring. When calls were left unanswered, he enlisted Thomas and his bodyguard.
You had threatened to call the police on Thomas when he couldn’t stop appearing in front of your front door. His bodyguard, the only one with a working mind it seemed, nodded in understanding and promptly ushered Thomas away from your doorstep.
“The ring reminds me of you,” longing laced your voice.
As you glanced down at the beauty, the sparkling gemstone and pearls seemed to reflect his hair and eye colour. Its elaborate design mirrored his complexity; intricate and beautiful yet multifaceted.
“And here I thought that you didn’t like the pearls I handpicked… I knew that it was too good to be true when the oysters were being friendlier than usual.”
Pale skin crimsoned as he snapped his mouth shut. His flow of thoughts always seemed to have a mind of their own, escaping from his mouth before he could rein them in.
It was frustrating how you still found it endearing, even at times like this. Perhaps the lover you knew hadn’t changed much after all.
A heavy sigh escaped your lips, “Rafayel, you can't just waltz into my life again as if nothing happened.”
“I know I messed up, Y/N,” he admitted, his eyes pleading for understanding. “But I couldn’t stand away any longer.”
Despite your anger towards his actions, you couldn't deny how much you had missed him too.
He inched closer, giving you plenty of time to move away, however, you remained rooted to the spot.
Familiar strands of dusky purple hair, the very ones you had passionately tangled your fingers in as he ravished you the last time, just within arm's reach now.
A hand reached out, moving away your salty-breeze ruffled hair from covering your face.
“Why did you choose to see me again at last?”
Aunt Talia had invited you for a high tea, weeks after Rafayel's persistent attempts to see you finally ceased. Deep down, you knew that this was another attempt made by him.
But you remembered how the older woman had opened her doors whenever the insecurity became too strong during his absence, and it felt disrespectful to sever ties just because you weren't ready to face her nephew.
“Rafayel is coming,” Aunt Talia calmly said moments earlier.
The clink of her cup meeting the saucer caused you to jerk, tea sloshing around your rose-adorned cup dangerously.
“You’re free to leave anytime, I’m not going to force you to meet him.”
Looking up, you found orchid-coloured eyes boring into yours.
“Just keep in mind that he will never stop searching for you. Yes, he’s selfish, but you know how us, Lemurians, are,” she sighed then, “ We're relentless when it comes to protecting what we cherish. And you, my dear, hold a special place in his heart.”
“I needed to understand why you did what you did, why you left without a word,” you finally admitted.
Regret flickered his eyes. “I should have been more considerate.”
As his long fingers traced the curve of your jaw, your breath hitched. It had been too long since you felt his caress against your skin, and you found yourself longing for more.
Laboured breaths and dilated pupils told you that his body had reacted similarly. Finding the mutual desire in your eyes, he closed the gap between you without any word.
Lips collided in a fervent kiss. Fueled by a mix of pent-up pain and yearning. Each brush of his lips against yours was a plea for forgiveness, a desperate attempt to mend the fractures in your relationship.
Bodies molded together, fitting like pieces of a puzzle long overdue for completion. There was an insatiable hunger for each other that needed to be satisfied.
“I will wait for you, whenever you're ready to accept me again in your life,” he murmured gently as his lips parted from yours.
You met his gaze, seeing the sincerity in those bright orbs you loved so much, and felt a tug at your heart. Silently, he took your hand and slid the ring back onto your finger, to its rightful place.
The same lips that you had just kissed earlier were now on top of the lilac gemstone.
“Keep this so I know that you’re safe, and whenever you’re ready—” Artist's palms cradled your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks lovingly. “I’ll be waiting for you at the end of the aisle, witnessing your beauty wearing the veil I've designed just for you."
As the light faded on the horizon, you realised that perhaps this love was worth fighting for, even if it meant navigating through the perilous waters of forgiveness and redemption.
⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST
#ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐱𝐞𝐩𝐡'𝐬 writing nook#love and deepspace#lads#l&ds#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace x y/n#love and deepspace x you#rafayel#rafayel x reader#rafayel x y/n#rafayel x you#light angst#comfort#suggestive
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Please I need your Bonten Rindou to have a comeback PLEASE.
It has ruined me. (In a very good way btw)
And possibly some lil drabble about Bonten Sanzu....I fear you might have cooked with your bonten's perception 🙏🙏🙏
Main masterlist | cw dark content, bonten timeline, death/grief, reader and sanzu are both a bit twisted (they're both not very right in the head lol...), no romance (but ig it depends on how you view it?)
Moth to a Flame / Sanzu Haruchiyo
i.
Sanzu has never thought you pretty growing up.
You were originally a friend of his sister 一 or her best friend, as you both liked to call it. Never a friend of his, despite the fact that in your early days you have always joined him and his older friends (with Senju dragging you along with her) at the park playing football and getting rough with each other like boys.
He has never once considered you a friend. Not an acquaintance, or even a mutual. Simply... no one.
You're nothing to him.
Every evening after school, you'd show up at their house in sweaty uniform without fail. There would always be excuses floating around you and his sister whenever Takeomi would question your presence, even on the nights they'd sit and have dinner together as a family. Sanzu has always hated sitting across you on the dining table, having to watch with a face of disgust whenever your ugly, heavy glasses would slide down the bridge of your oily nose 一 a result of the entire evening spent playing tag on the playground 一 and having meat stuck between your chunky, purple braces.
He also hated the fact that Mikey had liked you, a lot. It was obvious to everyone in the circle that whatever Mikey had felt for you was a lot different than simply being a friend. He's never treated Senju the way he liked treating you. He liked bringing you to his house 一 hand in hand 一 and inviting you to play with his own sister who harbours a shy nature in comparison to you, who was bubbly and sweet to everyone you meet, especially the elders.
He didn't think you were all those times. He hated you so much.
Sanzu was almost happy that you started packing your things to leave the day you turned 13.
Keyword: almost.
You dropped your equally ugly Elmo keychain in his room the night before you left.
ii.
You're 26 when you return to Japan.
Things have changed a lot since you left so long ago, including yourself.
Amsterdam has been nice to you all these years.
You put on coloured contacts that make you look like a vampire, your teeth are straight and white. You wear red-bottom heels proudly to wherever you go, skinny dress tight and your hair always done nicely, in a bun. Your hips sway with every step you take. You speak English well 一 it's a lot better than before, after the years of European influence, when all that you had to learn from back then was broken phrases of nonsense from Mikey and Baji during judo lessons in the former's home gym, with his grandfather guiding you sternly.
Come to think of it, you haven't heard of Grandpa Sano's voice in ages. You kind of miss it, honestly, when he'd yell at you to straighten up your spine and not slouch so pathetically like a dead shrimp. The last you have heard of his rasp from the cigar he liked smoking was when you were 12. He died when you were all 13 and 14 and 15 from chronic lung cancer.
Like autumn, leaves dry, and they die.
They all die.
You bow once, to the Heavens. You feel a scratch at your elbow, but you ignore it.
You bow the second time, to the Earth. Fingers start pinching at your wrinkly skin, and yet you ignore it, still. The gong is loud and your ears hurt. You start to grow annoyed.
You bow the third time, to all lives on the soil we share 一 humans and animals both. We are all animals on Earth.
Nails cut into your flesh and you bite at your lip, but your face remains stoic.
You straighten up, and you stare at her photo on the altar.
It hurts, but not enough to shed tears.
He finally speaks up when you finish. His voice is still as curt as before. It always is with you 一 never with the other girls who liked flocking to him when young.
"I'll kill you if you don't turn around."
He wouldn't. Not with the fine-lined tattoo running down your spine, the power now in your veins as you stand tall and remain silent.
You don't spin on your heels to look at him like he expects.
Like leaves, they all die.
Your best friend, too, it seems. "Rest in peace, Senju."
iii.
Sanzu finds himself smoking a lot more packs lately.
The multi-coloured pills in his cabinets has also been increasing significantly, much to Kakucho's dismay. The man has never liked when he was high on drugs, even more so when he'd show up late at the warehouse for meetings and ceremonies, high out of his mind, and slurring his words. Mikey lets it slide, Kakucho does not, while the others don't even care.
But this is him, he thinks. The more you nag and restrict, the more he wants to do.
Though lately he hasn't been doing it for pleasure. Something seems awfully missing, and he hasn't been able to figure out why exactly this feeling remains in his chest and keeps him wide awake at night.
It seems to grow stronger 一 always increasing in its intensity and never faltering even the slightest to at least show some mercy 一 when he'd see girls on the streets with blonde hair and bright smiles.
He thinks it's better to not care than to care. He inhales sharply, eyes lingering at the stray cat circling around his feet.
He puffs out the smoke between his cracking lips and throws the cigarette on the ground to step on it. Clicks his tongue when the flame does not dissipate at the first, and steps on it a second time. He shoves a hand into his pocket and feels for his keys, knuckles growing white while he holds the familiar piece of plastic in his hands.
"Young man," a voice breaks him out of his bubble. Today is one of the very few nights he isn't high on anything, and the sudden interaction with another human being who isn't Mikey catches him off-guard a little. Just a little.
"We're closing soon." She says. Her bandana is loose at the corners and her apron is untied. "Are you waiting for someone?" The old cloth slips off her hair and she catches it with a hand swiftly. But her eyes remain on him. They're still the same after all these years.
For some reason her question agitates him.
She does not pull away despite the deepening crease between his brows.
"You've been standing here for days. Can I get you something to eat tonight?" Her smile is warm this time 一 way too warm. She smiles just like his dead mother.
It makes him see red.
"Mind your own goddamn business, hag." He spits, and he leaves. Fast.
She watches his retreating back as he stalks off into the night 一 efforts drained, heart empty.
"That's all for the day, son. You can go home. I'll finish up." She turns to the part-timer busying himself behind the counter. He's about 19, freshly graduated from senior high 一 just like him back then.
While leaning a palm against the wall to fix on her left shoe, she looks at the memory board of her store hanging off of it 一 reaches a frail hand up to pull a piece of polaroid closer to her eyes full of cataracts.
The picture is old with time, but she remembers the story behind it just like yesterday.
A young girl with pristine white hair that she claims to be natural 一 just like the young boy next to her 一 full of smiles and holding a dessert proudly for the camera.
Akashi Senju was here!!!
Everyone, this is the best crepe in town!!! Haru-nii agrees ^_^
21/4/2016
iv. cw: dark content, choking, nudity, suggestive, twisted minds speaking, 18+
You like to think you've changed for the better.
You're a lot better at speaking now. Before Amsterdam, you were a bubbly kid, sure 一 but that does not mean you had been good with words. You have a bad habit of not thinking and filtering words through your head before you talk. It's one of the things that makes you feel genuine to people, but something that can gradually leave a trail of annoyance in people's hearts if not managed well.
You've always thought it was your poor management skills with words that had driven Sanzu away. He's always hated when you'd open your mouth to speak to him. Never liked it even when you'd mumble innocent compliments to his lego buildings or to his amazing seeking skills when playing hide and seek at the park.
But that's alright. You can change.
You never liked doing presentations or public speaking, but you would always swallow down the bile in your throat whenever someone laid eyes on you, if it means you'd be able to speak up more.
You can always change for him.
You heard from Senju once that his brother hated your glasses to death. She thought it might hurt your feelings if you knew, so she'd kept it a secret for years. It comes out to your ears anyway during a challenging round of truth or truth, and it shocked her to see you reacting so positively even to his feelings of distaste for you. "That's alright! We'll go to the optometrist after school. I've heard contact lenses aren't very expensive to afford, right?"
Contact lenses were, in fact, pretty expensive to afford. Even more so for a young student like you back then, who knew little to nothing when it came to managing money and her savings. You still spent a fortune on them, though. You were willing to do it, if it meant getting rid of the glasses he'd hated on you so much.
For him, you were willing to change.
The only thing you had been patient about yourself back then were really just your braces. You needed time for your teeth to be straight again, so you can finally start smiling even brighter for him.
Perhaps it might make him like you a little bit more.
You followed your father to the other side of the world when you overheard the boys speaking in his room one scorching afternoon 一 about how he'd just wished you were gone. You never wanted to leave Japan, but if it meant he would be happy that you weren't around him so much, you were willing to go. You can cry at home, but you can't cry in front of him. It will only disgust him even further.
For him, you were willing to disappear.
But Mikey calls you back to Japan after years of no-contact and recruits you as an advisor in replacement for Takeomi. The man hasn't been doing well since the death of his sister, and Mikey hasn't been able to trust anyone enough to take on his position in the organisation.
Kakucho has had enough to deal with in his own role, and Kokonoi Hajime only wants to be in charge of money and figures. Haitani Ran, the older brother of a duo, wants nothing more to do with the power that has earned him nothing but betrayal, and Haitani Rindou is way too focused on a slut to take on any major responsibilities on his own. Mochizuki Kanji hates Mikey, who he should not be letting so close, and Sanzu is... not well 一 Mikey can't tell if it's grief or something else that has been bothering him.
And you're beautiful, to say the least. You're no longer the ugly girl from childhood that he always says you are.
"美しい," is what Mikey says, when he sits before you in a quiet room on a huge oval table, as he bore holes deep into your soul. He's no longer the boy you knew from childhood who'd drag on your hand and play dress up with your dolls even though he knows nothing about Barbie and makeup.
He is simply an empty shell of a man 一 no soul, no heart. But he still smiles when you reach a hand over to caress his palm and trace along the lines of his skin with your fingers. Your gaze is seductive that it almost works, but he does not give in. Mikey has no heart or soul to truly feel any lust, but you can still see the hints of a small flame growing behind his eyes.
And even then, Sanzu still thinks you're ugly.
He gives you the same look of disgust while you stand naked before his eyes in a hotel room, right in the heart of the city, with police sirens ringing through the night.
Under his angry gaze and hateful eyes you feel just like a little girl again. The girl inside you that you've spent so many years suppressing, begs to be let out from her cage. She yells, screams, bites on the metal bars to be released.
But you're eager to please him tonight. You shut her away again.
Anything to make him happy.
"What can I do for you today?" You ask. His dick is still soft behind his silky, black slacks and he scoffs.
"You talk like a fucking slut. Quit it."
"You don't like sluts?" You question, brow raised high as you step closer to him on the bed, who has his legs spread far apart as he sits on the edge. You welcome yourself between them and cock your head to the side while you watch his face contort into somewhat confusion.
"Hah?"
The disgust still remains, however.
"Saw you looking at Haitani Rindou's lady earlier. She is indeed very pretty." You point out, nodding in agreement. He visibly shifts in his seat and makes a noise to cover up his fluster.
"Do you like her? I can be her."
Silence.
"Or do you prefer the cop who betrayed his brother? I can't be her, sorry, since she's dead, but we can do role play if you like."
I can try. For you.
"Fuck no. I know better than to mess with the Haitanis." He defends. Your lips curl, watching the slip in his demeanour with so much fun, as you inch closer, closer.
And closer.
"So? What else can make you feel better if not those?" You trace your lips along his collar and gently push it flat against him when he doesn't move away. Dark red lipstick stains his shirt as you pull back to admire your work. "Purely sex? I can make it work."
He tries pushing you away at that, but you grab onto his wrists with your ice cold hands before he can even touch you.
"Something extreme, maybe?" You wrap his hands around your throat. It bobs with every drop of saliva that you swallow. You kind of hope he feels the blunt edges of the many words you've pushed down along your throat, too.
"This?" His fingers shake against your skin, you feel.
"Choke me if it makes you feel better. You know you want to. You hate me, don't you? Choke me like you mean it."
His breath grows shaky as they fan against your cupid's bow. You're so close to him 一 way too close.
For the first time in probably forever, Akashi Haruchiyo is scared.
And you're no longer looking at Sanzu, unfortunately.
"Fuck一" you don't let his hands go despite his resistance, "fucking let me go."
Despite his words, you can feel it slowly, as his hands start tightening around your throat. "You're fucking insane一" he spews, pupils dilated behind his irises, "you're not right in the head, bitch."
He presses his hold tighter around you. Sanzu forces out a laugh, while your vision starts growing foggy. He's shaking all around as you grip onto his wrists tight, as a way to ground yourself before he can actually kill you with his bare hands. You try clearing your eyes to look at him one last time.
"Die. Fucking die." He says. "I fucking hate you."
v.
Sanzu lights a cigarette as he stands in the cold.
Though it's not very cold tonight, no 一 the weather's moderate this time. He's felt colder before.
It's still empty in his heart, but he can make do from today onwards.
Your arms are warm as they wrap around his waist gently, wobbly lips kissing along his spine and the meat of his shoulder blades as he inhales the tobacco, before turning around to take a good look at you.
He grabs at your jaw with the other hand to pull you close to his lips and exhaling the cloudy smoke into your mouth.
You take it just like a good girl when he pulls back to watch in amusement as you resist the cough bubbling up in your chest.
He repeats it a few times, and when he finally deems your actions satisfactory, he only kisses you then. Messy, wet, full of saliva 一 he licks at your lips disgustingly, sucks on your tongue like a horny teen, rubs himself up against your thigh.
His hold is steady and you almost melt into his arms when he accidentally burns your chest with the tip of his cigarette. Almost.
Sanzu does not let you touch him just yet.
"You're fucking mine." He whispers, voice low when he pulls away. His grip is still tight and painful around your jaw, but you think his eyes are full of love when they bore into your own.
"Remember that."
Mikey does not appear in your thoughts ever again.
You sigh dreamily and fall to his chest gently. He's there to welcome you as you melt, head low while he gazes into your eyes.
For the first time in your pathetic life, you touch skin with the boy you love the most. He's finally looking into your eyes this time, without the hateful gaze that you have always hated since young but still let him look at you that way simply because you liked him so much back then to even stop him.
You still like him so much today.
Sanzu hugs you close as you say your words.
"I'm all yours, Haru."
#writing#asks#helheim#knocks#ummm do people like this#i wrote this in one go... the ask came in yesterday morning... what am i even doing#sanzu x reader#sanzu haruchiyo#sanzu#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers#bonten x reader#bonten#tokrev x reader#tokrev#tr x reader#tr
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A Feather In The Cap
Jaune: Coco! I have done it!
Coco: Done what?
Jaune: I have found you a fashion item that you never knew you wanted!
Coco: And, that is?
Jaune: A helmet!
Coco: A helmet?
Jaune: Yeah, a helmet!
Coco: Jaune darling, you know I love you.
Jaune: Nawww... I love you too, Coco~!
Coco: You're my: "If I had to pick a dude," guy.
Jaune: You mean 'picked.'
Coco: Shutup!
Jaune: Sorry.
Coco: But, do you seriously see a girl like me wearing a helmet?!
Jaune: Whoa hold on, I'm not telling you to wear a hound helm, or, gods forbid a bucket helmet! No no no, Nothing like that!
Coco: Then what kind of helmet would you make me wear?
Jaune: Something like these:
Coco: ...?!
Jaune: So... what do you think?
Coco: ...?
Coco: I would take the bottom right helmet, with that brown leather colour of the top left helmet. With golden trim, or rivets along the helmet. And, a peacock feather, maybe three in the feather slot on the side.
Jaune: Why not an ostrich feather? You have to give it a far more flamboyant charm to it all!
Coco: Oh.. that would look better! You see, things like your knowledge in woman's fashion is among the main reasons why I want to have your kids~!
Jaune: You want my what?!
Coco: ...?!
Coco: Oh fuck...
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(I can’t believe I finished this so fast… I basically blacked out and then it was done lol… Anyway, please remember that this is all just my personal opinion, and if you feel differently, that’s fine!)
Dragon Age: The Veilguard Review
Objectively speaking, Dragon Age: The Veilguard is a fun game that the average player is going to enjoy, especially if that average player is coming in without any prior knowledge to the Dragon Age franchise. I believe this is a good jumping-in spot for people who are curious about the world of Thedas. But in contrast, I have seen a lot of criticism from other hard-core fans that I largely agree with. However, it just so happens that most of the criticism I have is not enough to prevent me from overall enjoying the game. That is to say, for pretty much everything I did not like, there was also something I thought was great… Unfortunately, that makes it a little difficult to give a review. So, I’m going to do my best to keep things as clear and concise as possible by splitting up the “good” and the “bad” aspects of DATV.
The Positive
The best thing to come out of DATV is the new cast of characters that make up your companions and supporting associates. While I do think that some of them could have benefitted from more development time to flesh things out further, just judging what we ended up with, is mostly great. I especially found Emmrich and Bellara to be stand-out examples of strong personalities to grasp onto, whose personal stories really touched me in an emotional way.
DATV also has fun with some returning characters. For example, now that Solas is no longer hiding his identity, we get to see a character that both believably honours his part in Inquisition, while also providing a new, refreshing side to him. There are also a number of characters introduced in Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights that appear in the game, like my personal favourites Teia and Viago, who are an absolute delight to interact with!
I think the three act structure is good, albeit with act three being quite short. There are a few sequences that are an absolutely phenomenal mixture of storytelling and engaging gameplay, like all of Weisshaupt! I also really enjoyed stepping out of the main story every once and a while, and into Solas’s backstory through the Crossroads memories – what ended up being extra special about these is how they mirror Rook’s struggle so well, by the end. They are a nice touch.
The locations are beautifully constructed with smooth interactions of climbing, zip-lining, and essentially parkouring your way around, making them fun to explore! They also came with such distinct flavours and character in themselves that influenced a sense of truly experiencing different parts of Thedas, with different cultures.
The mechanic of building up strength with the different factions, and that actually having a huge impact with the ultimate showdown in the end of the game, makes side quests feel far less inconsequential than in Dragon Age: Inquisition by comparison. That, and they number far less.
I like that the story mode actually feels like a story mode; there were only a couple instances where I really had to worry about death, and even then, I was able to just toggle off the death with the customizable gameplay mechanics and continue on.
Finally, it would be remiss not to say that the character creator for DATV is the best BioWare has ever put out. I’d go as far as saying it’s one of the best in any RPG I’ve ever personally experienced. From the flexibility in morphing a character’s head and body between custom shapes, to the little details like sclera colour, vitiligo, and top surgery scars, makes it a shining example of what RPG’s should strive for. (My only critique here is that it would have been nice to have more skin colours.)
The Neutral
I hated the combat for pretty much the entire first act of the game. I found it too hard to keep up with, and too much like Mass Effect bullshit. I can’t say that it’s completely grown on me yet, but I don’t hate it anymore. It’s fine. So, I’m giving this a special little spot before I get into what I didn’t like all the way to the end.
The Negative
As mentioned above, I do think that there is more that could be done with some of the characters to really achieve their full potential. Davrin and Lucanis—while to be clear I still really enjoy as they are—come to mind first, in terms of those who would have benefited from more development time. Most of Davrin’s screen time just revolves around Assan rather than Davrin himself, and Lucanis is so restrained that it takes a while to really crack him open. Both of these characters have intentional personalities that make them harder to get to know, I understand that, but I feel that it would have been all the more rewarding to have more time dedicated to their company after earning their trust and possibly endearment. Instead, it feels like their romance and friendship with Rook are only half-complete, and then rushed to finish.
There are some companion interactions that are just… cringe. There is no other word for it. Now, this is nothing new for BioWare games, but I feel like the “pulling a Bharv” scene for example, was hitting an entirely new low. (If someone misgendered me and then just started doing push-ups instead of just saying “hey sorry about that, I’ll try to do better” I’d be annoyed, not satisfied.) I also felt like most of the temporary rivalries between companions were artificial in nature, rather than organically part of their characters that actually served a purpose. We already knew Emmrich likes books and Harding likes nature; we did not need a whole cutscene with them bickering about camping. (The exception to this is Davrin and Lucanis, who genuinely had room to grow as people out of their multiple confrontations, not just a one-off scene.)
The music in DATV is, for the most part, forgettable and bland. There is one piece that really stands out, and that’s “Where the Dead Must Go”, which is a real banger. I am not a fan of Hans Zimmer’s OST otherwise; I think it is phoned in, just like most of his work. I deeply wish BioWare would have just stuck with Trevor Morris. The best parts musically in this game are just Morris’s work re-used from Dragon Age: Inquisition.
There are certain parts of disjointedness that separates DATV from the past games that are just… bizarre. This is especially the case when it comes to elven lore. For example, Bellara saying she is afraid that elves will be harshly judged for the Evanrus, or Harding saying that elves are “thriving”… as if modern elves are not deeply persecuted across most of Thedas. It made me question more than once if there just was not time in development to do a proper canon-compliancy check with everything, perhaps?
I want finish this part by bringing up again that the biggest flaw in DATV is that it feels very corporate. To repeat what I said in this post: It is as if a computer ran through the game’s script and got rid of anything with “too much” political substance, in an overcorrection to be “safe”. But now that the edges have been so smoothed down to make a block into a ball, it can no longer support anything.
Conclusion
It’s easy to see a lot of creativity went into the creation of this game… but it is also easy to make assumptions on how that creativity was constrained by development hell and corporate oversight. In the end though, Dragon Age: The Veilguard succeeded in being an overall good time, one that I will no doubt be putting just as many countless hours into as the previous installments in the franchise. 7/10.
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To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 9
Title: Sugar Cookies and Devious Confessions
Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader
Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn
Summary: Exams season and Solstice? Consider YN locked in, loaded, ready to go, hangry, and sentimental. Jungkook is just along for the ride with a hefty side of acts of service, quality time and physical touch are his love languages. Who'da thunk?
Warnings: T, language, fluff, so much fluff actually, I've surprised myself, semi-sexual conversations, JK is a menace but Reader can keep up...mostly, touch of angst tbh, reader gets hangry and is bad at taking care of herself sometimes, but apologises and makes up for it, mostly just wholesome this time. And fun!
Word Count: 6,675
Release Date: December 8, 2024. 12:30PM
A/N 1: Hiiiiiiiiiiii. It's here, thank you to those who reminded me. I literally would have forgotten for the third week in a row without them. I love you all.
A/N 1.5: Chapter ten will be coming sometime between Dec 20th-30th as it is festive and that's all I will say about it.
Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight
Jungkook’s learned many things about you since your friendship started.
From your favourite colours to your favourite brush to paint with. He learned that you are always team morally gray love interest in the books you read in your limited spare time, although that one was learned a little against your will.
He’d wanted to know why you always went for them, and very begrudgingly you admitted you found it appealing when they’d do anything to protect the main character. That they always did what they thought was best or what needed to be done despite their sad backstory, because for some reason, they all had sad backstories.
Every. Single. One of them.
And you claimed it suckered you in every time.
But through all of your time spent together—specifically during midterms—Jungkook learned just how much you ignore all of your basic needs as a human being when it comes to exams season.
How you’ll forget to eat all day in favour of studying, or staying up late to finish your practical exam projects, making absolutely sure they’re up to your impossibly high standards, disregarding sleep.
So it doesn’t surprise him when he turns the corner to the greenhouse cafe to see you, thinner than normal with bags under your eyes, slaving away at something on your computer.
He hates that he can tell you’ve lost weight through your winter clothing.
You look up, briefly smiling in greeting. He can tell just from how long it took you to notice him that you need a break, a good healthy meal and some sleep.
He smiles back, but bypasses you and walks straight into the cafe. You don’t think twice about it, already knowing what he’s doing.
“Hey Vivian,” he says to the barista.
“Hey JK, the regular?” She's restocking some cups and lids to the counter.
“Please, but tag on a hot chocolate for YN and some tarts.” Vivian nods, typing the order into the cashing system, very much used to either of you adding on each other's order to your own at this point.
“Machines ready for you,” she says, already prepping the first drink—his by the looks of it.
Jungkook pays and waits patiently, watching you from the window.
“How long’s she been here?” he asks over the currently frothing milk—that’s for your hot chocolate.
“Since seven. She grabbed a tea and hasn’t moved since.”
It’s almost 1:30 now, and Viv looks at him knowingly. She’s watched you do this to yourself every mid-term and exam season since you started.
“Ah. I see.” He purses his lips.
It’s only a few minutes before the drinks and tarts are ready. Jungkook grabs them and heads out the door, calling a thank you over his shoulder.
“Okay look,” he says to grab your attention as he stands directly in front of you. The act of walking to the front of you alone clearly not enough to gain it.
Looking up, your eyes widen in glee at the treats he carries. You attempt to reach for them but he pulls them back.
“Nuh uh, you need food.”
You look at him confused. “Those are food.”
“No, these are the reward. You need a meal.”
You try to interrupt him. Most likely to say you do eat meals, but instant ramen or a box of mac'n'cheese do not count, and he cuts you off before you can. “A healthy meal, Picasso, something to give your body nourishment and energy. One that fills you up.”
You scowl at him.
“But–”
“No buts,” he cuts you off again. “Healthy food. Full, happy belly food,” he says, gently patting his stomach so not as to spill his drink. “Pack up, we’re going to the cafeteria and getting you some.”
“But–”
“Y/N,” he says sternly, giving you a look that says he will not be budging on this, and that if you refuse, he’s going to throw you over his shoulder to ensure it happens.
It was the voice of a future King, he thinks. Then internally shudders. That’s not who he is with you, but he can admit that sometimes this side of him comes in handy during times like these.
“Fine.” You snip, very clearly not happy about this.
Fortunately, you don’t seem to have any art supplies with you today, just your computer, a notepad and pencil case. You gather them quickly, throwing them into your backpack with an annoyed look because you don’t want to stop, but he’s forcing your hand.
He doesn’t care. You need this, and it’s clear as hell you were not going to do it on your own.
You were so fucking stubborn sometimes.
His mask, hat and baggy shirt combo mixed with some large combat boots and a slight slouch in posture has worked wonders disguising him from the public so far. In fact, he’s pretty sure it intimidates some people seeing as how they nearly jump out of his way. You’ve joked about it before, calling it his ‘scary dog privilege’…whatever that meant.
Jungkook doesn’t mind, though. Despite being four months into the school year, and his speech at the beginning, people still fawn and stare at him. Trying to get his attention, his approval. Anything to get something from him, even if it’s just a look in their direction.
He wonders if it will ever die down, if it'll ever go away. Or if with new freshmen every year, a new horde of people will seek him out.
So, he’s grateful that with this little disguise on, no one bats an eye at him as you two walk the fifteen minutes it takes to get across campus to the cafeteria. He knows you’re more than mentally drained, because you’re not checking over your shoulder every few seconds to make sure no one realizes you’re with him like you usually do.
You enter the main building, luckily the cafeteria on the ground floor, just near the back. Once there, you walk straight to the fridge of premade to-go foods. Grabbing a fruit cup, a chicken caesar salad, and a container of mixed vegetables with dip, you turn to him.
“Is this good enough for you?” you snark.
“Yep, great choices,” he says, ignoring your tone. “Very healthy and nutritious. Plus you nearly have all the food groups.”
“I do have all the food groups,” you say back, deadpan.
Wow…
You really need some sleep, he’s never heard you sound so lifeless. Or mean. You’re only ever truly mean when you’re beyond exhausted, too tired to care.
He’d say your mood and overall vibe is like a mixture of brown and gray, but he knows if he said it out loud you’d make him specify which specific shades of brown and gray, so he keeps the thought to himself. Both not to provoke you and to be polite.
“You’re missing dairy and grain,” he says.
You point to his hands holding the tarts and drink.
“Fair point,” he concedes, and trails you to the register, grabbing a protein shake from a nearby fridge on the way. His card is out and paying before you can reach for your wallet and you accept it, even too worn out to yell at him for buying you something.
Hot chocolate and the occasional bag of tarts you're fine with, because half the time you’re also buying him his coffee and sharing your tarts, so you see it as a fair trade. But anything outside those and you damn near throw a fit, claiming you don’t need him to spend his money on you.
You never want anything from him, so unlike everyone else in his life.
He leads you to a more private booth in the corner, scary dog privilege in full effect as no one dares stand in his way, and you very unceremoniously plop down, sluggishly shucking off your bag and coat.
Definitely a brownish-gray.
You two eat and drink in silence; you, slowly picking away at your food, him, finishing his drink then eating the vegetables from the container you don’t like. It’s a peaceful silence, contented as your mood gradually improves and some colour returns to your face the more you get into your system.
The sight relieves him.
“Sorry,” you say, eyes glued to the table, unable to look at him. And he knows it’s for the way you treated him pre-food.
“No worries,” he replies. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. That's good.”
Jungkook wasn’t going to push, but now that your mood’s improving, he hopes it’s safe to.
“Hey,” you look up at him, the bags under your eyes more evident under the artificial light and his heart breaks a little at the sight. “Promise me you’ll get some sleep tonight?”
A small close lipped smile finds your face, eyes soft, appreciative. The corner of his own lifts to match.
“I promise I’ll try.”
You fall asleep early that night, 9pm.
You don’t know what allows you to, but your exam worries fade and assignment anxiety slips from your mind the heavier your eyes grow. In the back of your head however, a thought slips through your defenses; you know it’s because of the look in Jungkook's eyes when he’d asked you too.
The one of worry—genuine worry—for you.
You hate yourself for causing it. You never want him to have to worry about you, god…he already has so much on his plate, you don’t want to add to it.
But mostly…
But mostly you let yourself succumb to slumber because you don’t want to disappoint him.
He asked you so kindly, and you know he had your best interests at heart when he did. He always does.
You don’t have it in you to deny him that simple favour. To take care of yourself a little better.
So you sleep, just this once. For him. To help relieve him of the stress you caused.
And you know that that thought is what lets you until 10am the next day.
You feel better than you have in weeks.
You have everything you could possibly need to make all the recipes you have planned for today. Eggs, flour, sugar, soju, cutters, extracts, ginger, honey, chocolate chips, food colouring, some fruit concentrates and more are stuffed into the bags that dangle from your now struggling arms. There’s also another much lighter bag filled with a surprise for him that sits near the crook of your elbow.
Jungkook’s not going to know what hit him.
The door clicks open and you watch his eyes nearly leave his skull before he reaches to take them from you.
“Oh wow, you really weren’t kidding were you,” he says as he takes them to the kitchen with ease.
Stupid muscles, you think, but the thought doesn’t hold for too long, glad at having your arm circulation back.
“Solstice cookies are no joke in my house,” you say, following him.
“Clearly.”
He starts taking things out of the bags and you grab the one with the surprise in it before he can get to it.
“Won’t we need that?” he asks.
“Yes, but it’s not for cookies,” you start backing away towards the living room, bag behind your back. “It’s a surprise.”
Jungkook has a goofy grin plastered on his face as he follows you, and you put one on to match.
You stand in front of the coffee table and order him to sit and close his eyes, a sarcastic ‘yes ma’am’ comes from his lips, but he does as told.
You set the contents of the bag on the coffee table; a small fake tree with built in lights, some tiny baubles in a box, a star, a polaroid camera and a custom, empty ornament.
“Okay, open!”
Jungkook opens his eyes and the same goofy grin returns, but this time there’s a sparkle in his eyes that you’ve never seen before.
His voice is gentle and lovely when he asks, “What’s all this Picasso?”
“Your very own tree to decorate. We have lights, decorations, even a star for the top,” you say as he leans and picks up the star. “You said you didn’t really celebrate anymore so I wanted to bring some celebration back to you—if you wanted to, that is.”
He twirls the star in his hand, smile never leaving, as he inspects it closer. “Did you make this?”
You turn sheepish. “Ah… yeah. They don’t really sell mini toppers for the mini trees, just the baubles, so that guy’s made from the finest cereal box cardboard and tinfoil on the market.”
He just stares, at the star, at the tree, then to you. You can’t tell if you screwed up or not. Did he hate this?
But then he’s standing and you’re in his arms as he hugs you.
You freeze, unsure of what to do for a second, before you let your arms go around him, hugging him back.
He’s solid, you can feel the strength in him as he breathes, and the weight in his arms as they hold you.
But also warm. So warm your cheeks start to heat to match the rest of your body that seems to be on fire.
It ends before it barely started, and you find yourself missing him the second he’s gone.
“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head as if not realizing what he’d just done until after he stopped. You want to tell him it was okay, but he says, “thank you,” immediately after, and squats down to open the baubles.
“You’re welcome,” you say as you watch, sitting down on the couch. He looks like a kid, the brightest of smiles on his face as he goes to place the first one, but pauses, and hands it to you.
“You know better than me where to start.”
You giggle, placing the red sphere near the middle, and gesture for him to put on the next one. It continues like this until the box is empty, you then him, then you then him. He places the last ornament and looks to you, star in hand.
“You do it,” you say. You’ve done this a million times with your mum, you doubt he’s done the same.
He carefully grabs the top branch that sticks up, placing the star over it. Your heart swells at how gentle he is with your handmade decoration.
“Now the last step,” you say, as you reach for the camera. This was your favourite tradition with your mother, the yearly solstice picture. You have one from every single year after you were born, and even one with you in your mum’s belly.
“Turn around,” you say, spinning your finger and he does, you follow.
You’re both on the ground in front of the tree, and you lift the camera, leaning into him. Still so warm. He leans right back.
“Say 'Solstice!'” you call out, and smile.
“Solstice,” he says with you as you snap the picture.
You pause for a moment, making sure the image is done capturing before leaning away again.
The image prints out, and you take hold of it, shaking so it develops faster.
“Can you get some scissors, and a permanent marker?” you ask Jungkook. He leaves for only a moment, returning from the kitchen, scissors and marker in hand.
You reach for the empty, custom ornament. It’s a camera, and where the lens would be is a spot for a picture. Cutting the polaroid to fit, you slide it in, and write solstice followed by the year on the back of the ornament. You put it in the middle of the tree, letting the baubles frame it.
You don’t see Jungkook watching you do all of this, a look in his eye that would melt you if you saw.
“And now for the magic,” you say, turning on the built-in lights. The tree twinkles as the little LEDs reflect off baubles, like stars on a clear night winking at one another.
You're too busy looking at the tree when you hear a click. Following the sound you see Jungkook, polaroid camera in hand, lens facing you. The image pops out and he grabs it, placing it on the coffee table beside the tree.
“Aren't you supposed to shake it?” you ask.
He looks purely serene as he responds. “Nah, polaroids have chemicals and dyes layered in them, so if you shake them you can get microbubbles or marks on them.”
You didn’t know that, but it doesn’t surprise you in the slightest that he does. His talent for photography, a result of years of study and practice.
“Oh, good to know,” you say as you take the camera from him, and direct him to look at the tree. You snap a picture to match your own, placing it on the table beside the one he took.
He stays sat there, staring at the tree for a while, the occasional flit towards you before the tree once again.
“It’s perfect,” Jungkook says, breaking the comfortable silence. He clears his throat before adding. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
You don’t know what else to say besides that, but you can see the happiness in his eyes. Their glow. Their warmth.
You don’t think you need to say more.
He knows.
Time is quickly passing, and you have five recipes to get through today. So as much as you find yourself not wanting to move, perfectly happy sitting here with him for the rest of the day in this beautiful silence, you can’t. The tree is only the beginning of your day together.
“Cookie time?” you ask.
Jungkook looks to you and takes a deep breath, as if he was also content to stay where you were for the day.
Just you, him and the tree.
“Cookie time.”
“You bitch!” you say as flour flies from his hand to your cheek.
You were three and a half recipes in, having made two easier recipes first to ease him into a more difficult one. Shortbread, maejakgwa, and gingerbread now sit around in tupperware and cooling sheets around the apartment.
But because of that, Jungkook is slowly losing all seriousness as you retrieve the sugar cookie dough from his fridge. It was actually the first thing you’d made, knowing it had to chill for a while beforehand, hence the three and a half.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, all knowing smirk plastered on his face like a neon billboard.
You refuse to sink to his childish levels, and remove the beautifully chilled dough from its refrigerator bowl. Wiping your face with a cloth to clean yourself of the flour, you order him over.
“Come use all your unnecessary muscles to roll this out, quarter inch thick,” holding out the rolling pin to him. The smirk lessons only slightly, but he does as told.
“All my muscles are unnecessary, huh?” he says after a minute of rolling. You’re by the sink washing some dishes as he does and you can all but physically see the egging in his voice.
“Yes.”
“And why’s that?” He asks as he finishes rolling out the dough and begins on his cookie cutter decisions. You’ve learned he’s particular about which one’s he wants to use for which type of cookie.
“Because you have like a million eight foot tall, 450 pound security guards following your every move at all times,” you say, as if this was obvious. In reality, it was a solid team of six guards who were at their tallest 6 '4, and maybe 285 at their heaviest.
Admittedly, they were all really nice guys, having met them numerous times over the months. And you were planning on stealing some of the cookies from today to give them little solstice bags.
Jungkook’s never going to be able to eat them all by himself anyway…you think. And even if he could, he really shouldn’t.
“So, because I have security guards,” he looks at you unbelievingly, “my muscles are unnecessary?”
“Yes. Why have them if you don’t need them?” At this point you’re just teasing him.
“Lots of reasons,” and he starts listing as you continue to clean. “They look nice, but that's obvious.”
“I’m sure your groupies don’t mind that at all,” you sneak in under your breath, referring to his enormous, and rather lewd mouthed female following on social media.
“Hey, you leave my groupies out of this, they’re nice people,” he says, pointing a white powdered finger. You scoff and go back to the dishes mumbling something about how they feed his ego.
“There’s also the fact that I like being strong. I like that I don’t get winded from jogging up the stairs, and I like that I have the ability to help damsels who show up at my place with their arms full of far too many heavy bags.”
You shoot him a glare and he laughs. “You can’t say I’m wrong.”
You also don’t have to acknowledge that comment.
He takes it as a win in your ever ongoing battle of wits. And just to try and even out the playing field a little more, as you are currently winning by a landslide, he adds on a little more to his answer, hopefully one you’re not expecting, and therefore winning by shock factor.
“There’s other reasons too, but those are a lot less PG, to say the least.”
He—
Your hands pause their ministrations for mere seconds before continuing.
How did he say it so…casually!?
Like he didn’t essentially just tell you he likes being strong for bedroom purposes. A topic you’ve never been anywhere near speaking to him about, and he just… brings it up like that? So cryptically as if he wants you to ask for clarification.
And you do want clarification, damn him!
You hate that it makes you curious. Hate. It.
You like knowing things, not to be nosey, but because you like the mental safety it brings. When you and Nel first started having sex you did a deep dive on everything you could, to make sure nothing was a surprise and that you didn’t hurt yourself or him if you tried anything new.
Little did you know half of the research was for nothing. Nel has never been the most sexually adventurous person, whereas you wanted to try out new things, explore, see what you like via trial and error, he was fine with good ole missionary and a handful of other basic positions.
What you two do now works though. And that’s what counts. Compromise. Overcome. Enjoy and respect each other's boundaries.
But it makes you wonder if Jungkook knows anything you don’t.
That reason alone is apparently enough for you to hear, “Like what?” leave your lips before you can stop it. And you internally freak.
What the fuck! You did not just ask him that.
That did not just come out of your mouth.
You did not jus-
“You really wanna know?” he asks, eyeing you over his shoulder with a single quirked brow, like he can’t believe you said it either, but he’ll dish you if you want him too.
How interesting. You don’t remember gaining this level of trust from him, to be honest about something so personal. So private.
You wonder when that happened.
No, you say in your mind. But your head is gingerly nodding yes.
Stop that! You think to your body, betraying you once again.
Jungkook hums before picking up a cutter, a simple circle.
“Well,” he punctuates the word with a cutter punch. “Uhh…there’s a certain level of—” a punch, “—power dynamic I prefer having, and they definitely help with that,” another cutter punch. “I also like being able to lift my partner with relative ease, or carry them if need be. Legs around my hips is a personal favourite.”
Your dishwashing slows as he continues, unable to stop the images that flood your mind thanks to your visual thinking.
Stupid art brain.
A small pool of heat starts to form low in your stomach. Stupid art brain.
After some more circular cutter punches, you think he’s finished and you’re relieved, but then he switches to a spikier one and continues.
“I’ve also learned that finger strength seems to be a fan favourite,” he jokes and you gulp, forcing that thought out of your head as soon as it enters like a slingshot. “And most of my previous partners seemed to enjoy the fact that I could, uhm…well, that I could hold them in place while I did… that is…whatever I wanted to them.”
You ignore the wetness in forming your underwear. This conversation, regardless of who it was with, was not helping you and your complete and utter lack of sex.
Another enormous downside to long distance, your libido and its easily excitable nature due to lack of use. Maybe an appointment with your vibrator is due soon, if you’re this affected by these attempts at sterile descriptions of sexual-like encounters. He isn’t even saying anything expressly dirty. He’s trying to be as respectful and informative in his answers as he can.
Plus, you did this to yourself.
“But if I had to pick, I think there’s a tie for my favourite part about having unnecessary muscles for non PG purposes,” he says, and looks at you with another quirked brow, seeing if he’s allowed to proceed.
You’ve entirely stopped washing the dishes. Too focused on not focusing on the growing need blooming inside you.
Oh yes, you’re penciling it in right now: Vibrator appointment. Tonight. 10:30pm.
Sharp.
Time to accept the consequences of your actions.
“Consider it a potential learning opportunity. Academically speaking, of course,” you say, as a way to make this educational. That’s all this is anyway right? To see if he knows anything you don’t.
Right?
Right.
“If you say so Picasso.” He tears the leftover dough from the neatly cut cookies, and starts laying them on a baking pan. “First, I like that I’m strong enough to flip my partner over whether they’re, uhm...” he struggles for an ‘academic’ sounding word, but settles for, “restrained, or not.”
Heat. Everywhere. There's heat everywhere and you immediately go back to the dishes, changing the flowing water to ice cold and ignoring the throbbing of your core. You’re pretty sure if you slipped your hands down your pants right now, they’d be just as wet as they are cleaning the mixing bowls.
Maybe you should reschedule to 10. Or even 9:30. Hell, why not 9 while you’re thinking about it.
“Secondly, I like the muscles because they help me make great use of walls.”
You nearly drop the bowl in the sink, not having nearly enough time to recover before he’s looking at you again, sugar cookie filled baking pan in hand.
“You ever done something like that?” he asks, sly smirk visible. He’s trying to make light of the situation, make it a joke for the sake of comfortability.
He’s spilling ‘all’ his secrets, why shouldn’t you spill one.
The oven dings, signaling the preheating is complete and it’s ready for use. He comes closer to you, only because the oven is opposite the sink, puts them in and sets the oven’s timer for 12 minutes. Turning back around, he’s not two feet from you.
You force your voice to be as smooth and cool as possible as you face him, your own smirk plastered.
“Wouldn't you like to know?”
Yes, yes he would.
“Call your goons in, I have their bags ready.”
“They’re not my goons,” Jungkook says, texting Shen, head of his security detail. “They’re my guards.”
You’re both finishing up cleaning the kitchen, all of the ingredients are put away, the dishes are cleaned, and Jungkook is washing down the counterspace as you write the names of everyone on the little bags filled with the results of your combined labours.
The coffee table is covered in little polaroids from today, all still resting from when they developed. Half of them have some form of baking related mess on them, be it some flour or a small lump of dough.
You look at one he took after throwing more flour on you, your nose is scrunched and it looks like half your face is white with the stuff. It’s cute. There’s another beside it, Jungkook is pretending to lick raw batter from the whisk, eyes wide, tongue outstretched. It’s chaotic.
They’re perfect.
Shen, Dae-Seong, Asa, Rowan, Micah and Hikari are Jungkook’s security detail. They all have shared apartments in the same building. Never too far away. Shen and Asa are stationed on his floor, Mikah and Rowan are on the floor below and Dae-Seong and Hikari are on the one above.
“Guards, goons, same difference,” you say, but you hear knocking not seconds later, no doubt Shen and Asa.
You go and open the door, welcoming them in.
“Hey Y/N,” Asa says, scooping you up for a hug, your feet dangling. Asa’s one of the guards who’s super tall, and he’s always been very affectionate towards you. Come to think of it, a lot of them are.
“Hey Asa, how’s Natalie?” you chuckle, hugging him back lightly. Natalie is his wife, who's still back in the capital.
“She’s good, excited to have me home soon.”
“No doubt, say hi for me.”
“Yeah, will do.”
He sets you down just in time for another knock.
Rowan, Micah, Hikari and Dae-Seong all make their way in too, giving high fives, light hugs or happy greetings to you as they do. Soon, you’re being towered over by men, feeling very small, but never scared as they are always so lovely to you.
You suspect you’re quickly becoming their favourite.
Jungkook they’re used to seeing, they’ve known him for years, protected him for years. They give him shit, a nod or grab him by the neck with their arms as they play wrestle to greet him. No hugs or high fives to be seen with him, only laughter. Mostly at Jungkook.
When they’re around, Jungkook is the most at ease you’ve ever seen him at.
“So what’s up?” Shen asks. He’s the least affectionate out of everyone, stoic even, but that doesn’t surprise you. He’s responsible for the safety of the future monarch, that’s a stressful job.
You look to Jungkook, who’s now sitting on the couch. He signals with a hand that this is all you.
“I don’t know if you all celebrate, but just in case you do, Jungkook and I spent the day baking,” Rowan snorts at that, and you ignore it, motioning for them to follow you to the kitchen. The island carrying their individually labeled goody bags comes into their view.
“And this is just a little thank you for all you do from the jackass in the other room,” you point with a thumb to the wall the couch is on the other side of. The men snicker.
“I heard that,” Jungkook calls.
“You were supposed to,” you call back, then to the group once more, “and it’s also a Happy Solstice from me.”
Rowan and Asa are still laughing at your less than kind words about their charge as you begin to hand them their bags. Each one says thank you as you do, and Asa gives you another hug. He may be 6’4 and god knows how many pounds, but really, he was just a big teddy bear—a lethal one— but cuddly nonetheless.
“We’ve got a decent selection, but feel free to trade,” you say, giving Shen his bag last. He has a thing with going last, you have no idea why, but you respect it. You whisper to him that he has an extra of each cookie, and not to tell the others, including Jungkook. He gives you the absolute smallest of small smiles, followed by a hushed ‘thank you.’
It’s the most tender you’ve ever seen him.
Micah pipes up. “What’s this one?” he asks, holding up a cookie.
“So, we’ve got gingerbread, maejakgwa, sugar cookies, shortbread and that, my dearest Micah,” the mountain of a man blushes at that, and you laugh, “is a yakgwa cookie. Think chewy honey and ginger.”
He pops it into his mouth instantly and you swear if he could, he’d melt into a puddle.
“There’s no way King Pain in the Ass over there made these, they’re way too good,” Hikari says, on his third one. He seems to be trying one of each, seeing which he likes. So far? Apparently it’s all of them.
“Cross my heart,” you say, “it was a gallant team effort.”
“Thanks kid,” he calls to the prince, currently entering the room to see his guards happier than he has in a very long time. He will never admit it out loud, for fear of endless mocking, but the sight warms his heart.
Dae-Seong comes up to you, and very politely asks, “Could I get the recipe you used for the maejakgwa? My wife would love these.”
“Of course, Dae-Seong,” you place a kind hand on his forearm. “Give Minji my best will you?”
The man nods, grateful.
All the recipes today were from your memory, so you get your phone, and start typing it out.
You have him text it to himself from your phone when you’re finished, and use that as your que to grab the camera.
“Everyone,” you call out, and immediately seven pairs of eyes, with seven full mouths beneath them, are looking at you. Jungkook’s eating some from his own stash, or so you hope. “Crowd your favourite royal on the couch please, it’s picture time.” You shake the camera gently in your hand.
“My favourite royal’s back at the pala–” Hikari tries, but a punch to the shoulder from Jungkook has him laughing in favour of completing the sentence.
You love the relationship he has with them. Like brothers.
Quickly, Jungkook is squished between the six men, one on either side and four on the floor in front of him. They tried to fit more on the couch but they're all so big that they couldn’t.
“Everyone needs to smile, and if they don't, I'm taking more until they do,” you say pointedly, eyeing up Shen. He only nods that he understands.
“Say Solstice!”
A chorus of deep voiced ‘solstice's' ring your eyes as you look through the eyepiece and snap the picture. It prints out and you leave it with all the others on the coffee table. You see that everyone is smiling in the picture as it develops.
Perfect. Everything about today has been perfect.
After a few more minutes of chatting, the guards have to get back to their posts, and you’re at the door, wishing everyone a happy break as they leave.
Shen, as usual, hangs back, wanting to be the last to leave. He’s standing beside Jungkook, both watching you as you bid the others farewell.
“I like her,” Shen says to Jungkook quietly.
“Me too,” Jungkook says back.
Shen can see the prince means that in more than one way.
“Keep her around.”
“I'm trying my best to.”
It’s nearing 7:30, you’re both full after ordering dinner in, not wanting to be anywhere near a kitchen until next week, and working on assignments. Jungkook’s editing some photos, and you’re writing part of an essay from your phone, having completely forgotten to bring your computer in all the excitement.
“Hey,” you say, sitting in your spot on the couch. You nudge him with a socked foot, he has headphones on so he can focus.
He doesn’t look to you, but removes a headphone. “Yeah?”
You lock your phone, brain mush for the night. “Can we move movie night to tonight? I have an exam at 8am on Monday and I want to use tomorrow to study.”
You’ve been thinking about it for a while, deciding that today would let you know if you needed to make the switch or not. And given that you’ve spent the day on your feet and partially socializing, you doubt you’ll be able to focus for the rest of the night, exhausted. But the good kind of exhausted.
You’ve been taking better care of yourself since that day with Jungkook. Not drastically, but you’re starting to listen to your body’s signals a little more, and right now it’s telling you you need TV and sleep.
Appointment be damned. You’ll reschedule.
Jungkook hits the space bar and removes his headphones before closing the computer.
“Yeah, of course. But–” he cuts himself off, looking at the tree in front of him. The lights are low in the apartment and it’s dark out, so the tree shines, glowing from within. The picture of you two still sits in the middle, and the now multiple stacks of polaroids sit around its base like presents.
“But?”
“But that means I won’t see you after today. I only have two exams left, Monday afternoon and Tuesday morning, then I’m back at the palace.”
Oh.
Right.
“We don’t have to, I can just study earlier in the d-”
“No! No, it’s okay. It just…it changes a few things,” he bites his lip as he thinks, and places his computer on the coffee table. “Close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Close your eyes Picasso, please?”
You’re very confused but comply, closing your eyes and waiting. You hear him get up and then him walking, then a door opens. There’s some rummaging before the door closes and his footsteps near again.
The couch dips right beside you.
“Hold out your hands.”
You hold them both out, palms up, and something bumpy and cylindrical is placed in them.
“Okay, open.”
In your hands is a leather rolling brush case, held shut by not only matching leather strings, but a red ribbon and bow.
“Oh,” you didn’t know you were doing gifts. “Jungkook. It’s—it’s beautiful.”
“Open it.”
You untie the ribbon, setting it to the side as you also untie the leather strings, and unroll. The case is filled with brushes from Olliveri and Schultz, the best brush makers in the realm. And a small, very surprised gasp escapes you.
You’ve never once owned any of their products. Their brushes go for $50 at the lowest, for the smallest of brushes.
Exquisite craftsmanship goes into each and every brush, hand carved wooden handles, the best bristles you can buy, and rust resistant ferrule. You’ve always dreamed of having one of their brushes, and now here you are, with a whole set.
They’re the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.
“Jungkook I—I don’t know what to say. I couldn’t possibly acce-”
“Yes you can. You can and you will. Please. I even made sure they put in an extra fan brush cuz it’s your favourite.”
You notice the two brushes on the end, identical.
He remembered.
A lump is forming in your throat, overwhelmed with gratitude.
“I haven’t—I don’t—,” you take a breath, “I didn’t get you a gift, though.”
“Today was gift enough,” he says, and you can see in his eyes he means every word. “I haven't had a solstice like this in…a really long time, and the memories from today are enough, more than enough. I promise.”
You don’t know what to say, you haven’t been at this much of a loss for words since…ever. You can only think of one thing to convey how thankful you are.
Throwing your arms around his shoulders, you squeeze, his arms immediately around your waist.
“Thank you,” you whisper, “I love them.”
Jungkook takes a deep breath too, savouring this moment for as long as he can. The feel of your arms around him, squeezing. The soft curve of your body up against his. His hands on your waist, you’re warmth under his touch, or maybe that was him, he can’t tell. And he doesn’t care.
It’s the first time you’ve ever initiated physical contact that was more than a nudge or playful shove.
“You’re welcome, YN. Happy Solstice.”
Chapter Ten: TBR
A/N 2: Fun fact! The tree and tin foil star are based on what I do irl. I have a dollarstore tree with little baubles and lights, but I made the star from a cereal box and tin foil because there weren't any toppers when I bought it.
A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3
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