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lattenha · 8 months

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TERRIBLE TWOS — P. SUNGHOON

SYNOPSIS! A rash decision on your end causes you and Sunghoon to break up. What you think is for the best turns out to be the complete opposite, actually. Cue two years later when a random encounter with your ex forces you to revisit past feelings that has never quite fully departed from either of you. PAIRING! Chairman!Sunghoon x Fem!Reader WC! 11.4k (Got carried away)

GENRE/CW! Exes getting back together, fluff, slight angst if you squint, smut (fingering, brief mentions of fem oral receiving, sunghoon has a 7 inch cock; i headcanon that, unprotected sex, missionary, creampie, lots of tongue kissing), swearing, reader is in denial just a tad bit, ft. non-idol!yunjin, reader is a struggling fine arts major, etc. MDNI

A/N: originally, i intended for this to be a simple one shot but it somehow turned out to be greater than that in the end lol. this was also my first attempt at writing smut; i've always wanted to try it but damn is it kinda hard. i feel like the title doesn't match or capture the story as good but whatever-- it used to be called 'seasons,' yet that didn't make sense either so... terrible twos it is! i hope you enjoy <3

“Y/n?”

A trace of uncertainty laces the man's voice, his mind racing with the possibility that he might have mistaken a stranger for someone from his past. Internally, he winces at the prospect of this awkward mix-up, dreading such an encounter with a random person. He clings to the hope that his intuition proves accurate.

Could it really be her? Amid the bustling crowd, she always managed to stand out, an unmistakable aura surrounding her. Her presence eclipsed even the most vibrant of settings, radiating a unique energy that outshone a field of flowers.

When he tentatively calls out her name in a hushed tone, she spins around on her heel, and for an ephemeral moment, Sunghoon feels as though he's stepped into a scene from a classic romance film.

Time stills and so does he.

Each of your movements steals his breath away. The way your hair dances in harmony with the wind, and how your eyelashes cast the most delicate shadow upon your high cheekbones. Your gradual unveiling leaves him struggling to swallow past an inexplicable lump in his throat.

Sunghoon notices the moment your eyes widen. Behind those enchanting orbs, he discerns a flicker of nostalgia and a touch of melancholy. During your time together, he had the uncanny ability to read those emotions hidden within the depths of your eyes.

“Sunghoon…” You say no louder than a mere whisper that could easily get lost in the summer’s wind that passes through the both of you.

Your heart throbs in your chest. The biological response is far too overwhelming that you can feel your stomach tying itself in double knots. You think you might need to be pointed to the nearest bathroom so you can barf up the swarm of butterflies that disturb your system. No doubt, does crossing paths with an ex whom you share a long history with manage to do that to you.

“H-how are you?” You’re the first to strike up a conversation despite that being Sunghoon’s unspoken responsibility.

How am I? Sunghoon has to brace himself to collect his messy thoughts.

“I’m pretty good, and yourself?”

His response is curt and short. In any other setting, he would have elaborated on his answer but he wasn’t sure how much information was too much to reveal to an ex regarding the state of his well-being. You nod at his words, not really expecting much nor having high hopes that he would give you more to work with in this conversation of playing catch-up between an ex.

See, your relationship ended amicably, with both of you acknowledging that the spark kindled between you two had faded out. With your mind elsewhere, too focused on your academics (so you like to say), and Sunghoon preparing to inherit his family’s business, there was little room for romance in either of your daily routines. Your typical weekend dates were swapped out for meetings with major corporations and other soon-to-be-chairman-related activities so that he could fully understand what the rest of his future held for him.

Even though you missed having your boyfriend's undivided attention, you refused to act as a temporary roadblock that prevented him from making significant progress. Despite your heart and brain being at war with each other, you made the conscious decision to slowly back down from being his lover and tucked your face in the pages of your academic textbooks.

With Sunghoon too busy to even acknowledge that his girlfriend was distancing herself from him, you were the first to come forward, bearing the news that breaking up would be the optimal solution to your and his fading presence in one another’s lives.

That night when you bid goodbye, he felt half his heart shatter inside of him. Little did you know that you carried the other part wherever you went, but now that you were no longer capable of sheltering that missing piece, it almost made him want to die inside more than just a tad bit— a lot, actually.

He pretended to play it cool as your back turned to him and he watched you retreat to your car, feeling both helpless and defeated. With an unflinching countenance, a tightly clenched jaw, and fingers gripped at his sides, Sunghoon longed for his feet to have chased after you, preventing your departure from his life. He yearned to undo whatever had driven you away, to rewrite his mistakes and reshape your shared history.

Sadly, not even the first star in the sky he saw at night could grant him something as demanding as that.

On the contrary, had those things happened, he wouldn’t be here today on a Thursday afternoon rekindling a connection that got tossed up in the air and fell through his fingertips.

“I—“ Before you get a chance to deliver your sentence Sunghoon’s hold on your arm prompts him to draw you to his chest.

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat, eyes simultaneously widening for the second time thanks to a certain ex. You look up at the taller one with crinkled brows. A mixture of confusion and a looming feeling in the deepest pit of your stomach that hasn’t quite left, tugging at your heartstrings. His intoxicating scent of Dior Sauvage is all too overwhelming for your nose to take in. You swear your head could start spinning any minute now.

He’s so close to you. You’re so close to him. If someone were to come by and accidentally bump into you, you would be pressed up against his chest, breaking what limited distance is keeping you two apart.

A bike rider disrupting pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk whizzes by, obnoxiously ringing the bell attached to their handlebar as if they aren’t to be blamed for riding on the concrete pavement, and it’s only then do you realize that Sunghoon was protecting you from getting hit. His body relaxes once he declares that it’s safe for you to comfortably stand in the open from any oncoming obstructions.

“Sorry… acted on impulse.” His grasp on you immediately retreats to the inside of his pant pockets and you swear that his touch leaves a ghosting sensation on your skin.

Sunghoon refuses to meet your lingering gaze, eyes averting to some random couple walking their dog across the street from where the two of you are standing. It’s almost funny how he fully believed two years ago that one day both of you would be exactly like that: dog owners who take their beloved fur baby on walks together and enjoy the simplicity of the little things that a relationship has to offer.

“It’s okay, thank you,” You murmur, unsure of where things should go from here.

A beat of silence comes and goes before Sunghoon has the chance to take the initiative to prove he’s different from his past self.

The past self you witnessed throughout the duration of your shared romanticism. The past self who failed to convince you to stay because he never wanted you to leave his side. What he wanted was to work things out and to understand what he could do to change and make things better for the two of you.

Even if that meant you breaking up with him first to realize this.

“Listen, why don’t we…” He suddenly starts. Sunghoon analyzes your face and when your features evidently show that you’re all ears for what he has to say, he takes a deep breath to compose himself. “Get dinner. Together.“

Although the question comes out more like a demand rather than a request, you’re slightly taken aback because you were almost certain Sunghoon probably resents you for the breakup— at least that’s what you tell yourself— and that he doesn’t want any business involving you entering his life for a repeat performance. The only different thing is that you’re his ex.

Can you blame him? It was so sudden.

The concealed hurt he tried to mask but failed to do so when you told him you wanted to end things, hoping it’d be left on good terms, rambling about how much you do and will continue to care for him no matter what he does in life or who he chooses to love after you. It seems you did more talking than he got the chance to, and Sunghoon wasn’t sure if you had this all planned leading up to that moment, or if he should’ve seen it coming.

Whatever it was, Sunghoon could never hate or repent you, but you’re no telepathic mind-reader and wouldn’t know how he feels about you now unless you asked.

Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth as you ponder the idea of sitting in a fancy restaurant with Sunghoon and sharing a long conversation over an expensive meal that is highly overpriced for its ridiculously small portions.

“On one condition,” You quip. Sunghoon gestures for you to keep going and you clear your throat. “No five-star Michelin places, okay? I just want a simple dinner to make up for lost time.”

The older male chuckles, nodding his head sensibly. If there’s one thing Sunghoon learned about you is that you were never hard to please and preferred the opposite of a high-end luxury lifestyle that he naturally grew up with.

“Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 8, how’s that sound?”

“That’s perfect but um—“ you purse your lips. “Do you… Do you still remember where I live?”

“Of course. It would take a lot more than time and distance apart from each other, for me to forget your every being.”

Sunghoon leans in to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The underlying intimacy hiding beneath his actions has you contemplating what the course of your relationship would have looked like for the two of you, had you not broken up with a man as sweet and thoughtful as him.

Was calling it quits between you two a mistake? Should you have stuck it out just a little longer?

You can only shove those thoughts to the farthest point in the back of your mind and recenter your focus to the handsome ravenette.

Sunghoon, sporting a warm grin that gradually grows into a pearly white showcase of his perfect teeth and adorable canines, makes it worth marveling if second chances are a thing that people still stand by.

The next evening, Sunghoon unexpectedly arrived at your front door 20 minutes ahead of your readiness. While you were trying to situate yourself into your cami dress that paired well with the current season, a knocking sound coming from the entrance to your studio unit startled you in its wake. You tapped on the screen of your phone to check the time and crinkled your nose when the numbers staring back at you read 7:40.

Sunghoon’s habit of arriving for an occasion earlier than expected was not unusual for his character. The taller's mannerisms crept into other facets of his social life after years of being trained to believe that "early is on time" and "on time is late." However, 20 minutes ahead of schedule was definitely new to you, and part of you can’t help but think if this is stemming from anxiety or if that’s just you projecting your nerves onto his much early arrival.

“Just a sec!” You struggled to reach for the zipper to your dress, stress-sweating due to the pressure of having to rush through the rest of your routine.

After what felt like a millennia you finally managed to seal yourself shut into your attire and scurried to the front door where poor Sunghoon was waiting for you to answer.

“I’m so sorry, I couldn’t get to the zipper of my dress and I don’t think me flashing you or my neighbors in semi-public is socially acceptable.” You awkwardly laugh, strands of hair sticking to the back of your neck and forehead from the accumulated sweat you managed to produce.

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head at your guilty tendency to overshare too much information for the dramatics.

“No worries. I know I showed up earlier than expected. Don’t worry about me, do what you need to do.” He smiles softly and for a second it almost slips your mind that you’re no longer romantically involved with each other.

Oh, how you wish you could leap at him and smother the dashing man with kisses all over his Greek god-like, beautiful face…

“Here,” The taller unveils a bouquet of flowers that he attempted (underline, attempted) to hide behind his back. In reality, you could already see bits of it peeking out but chose to play coy about the item he was holding back from giving you.

You fawn at the striking arrangement of tulips that come in different shades of the prettiest of pinks. Tulips. Of course, he would remember that those are your favorite. His words from yesterday ring in your ears, and believing them, you truly start to confide that Sunghoon could never boot you out of his memory as easy as a snap of his fingers.

“The prettiest bunch of flowers for the prettiest girl.” Sunghoon cautiously says, unsure if that would be stepping a line. To be fair, there isn’t an official handbook on what you should or shouldn’t say to an ex— except for some of the more common phrases; whatever that may be.

You let out a lighthearted laugh at the bold, yet cheesy, compliment and invited Sunghoon into the safe haven of your apartment, ignoring the way your heart practically skipped a beat when he said that.

He’s been here on plentiful occasions so he’s really no stranger to the arrangement of your flat and could probably draw out an entire floor plan if he wanted to. At one point he almost committed to the thought of moving in with you, but you were a firm believer that it would be best if he stuck to the minimalist mansion he decorated himself; it was passed down to him from none other than his father. Needless to say, Sunghoon was a pouty puppy that day.

“I’m almost ready I promise.” You say. “I just need to add some finishing touches and then I’m all yours for the night.” Immediately your hands fly to your mouth when realization dawns on you about the delivery of your words.

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, and luckily, you miss the faint smirk that tugs at the corner of his plump lips teasingly.

“You know what I mean!” You panic, waving off the metaphorical atmosphere that surrounds both of you.

You excuse yourself and escape to your room as the tips of your ears start to flush with embarrassment.

Once the door leading to your bedroom shuts behind you with a mellow thud, your back presses up against the surface of the entryway. A loud sigh that you weren't even aware you were repressing since Sunghoon arrived breaks out past your tinted lips. With your mind a foggy mess and your heart threatening to leap right out of your chest, you’re under the impression that you resemble the stereotypical anime school girl the way your entire demeanor changes when you’re around him.

But that’s the thing.

It’s only Sunghoon.

It’s just Sunghoon.

So what if you guys dated in high school and partially during college? So what if he was the first and only guy you’ve been with, and even though you have no one to compare him to, he would still be the best ex you could ever have? So what if you regret breaking up with him because you got ahead of yourself and refused to be transparent with him?

So what if you want him back…

You pat both sides of your cheeks to wake yourself from a philosophical dilemma. you refuse to go down a rabbit hole of emotions especially when you’re about to go out to dinner.

You shuffle through your wardrobe in search of a certain pair of Converse that a special someone gave to you as a birthday gift. When you find it neatly stored away in its original packaging and the box that it came in you’re almost too eager to slip your feet into the collar of the Chuck Taylor’s.

You halt in your steps when you reach your vanity and grab your everyday bottle of perfume, spritzing one pump, then two, then three, and four more of the floral scent, that you’re showering yourself in it at this point.

When you've deemed that you’re completely ready and satisfied with your appearance for the evening, you exit the inviting comfort of your cozy chambers. Sunghoon’s back is facing you as you ascend into the living room. You can’t make out much of what he’s doing and he’s seemingly too preoccupied to notice your footsteps stalk across the wooden paneling. His neck is craned downward looking at something on the decorative table where you have a neat arrangement of framed pictures.

“You still have this?” He turns around revealing the photograph that he was referring to, now in his possession. There’s a distant glimmer of emotion that you can’t quite make out peeking around the curves of his irises.

You let out a resigned sigh.

You’ve been caught red-handed for leaving a single trace of the past out in the open.

Of all the furniture and miscellaneous objects that collect dust on different surfaces in your flat, Sunghoon chose to go for the photograph of you and him standing under a cherry blossom tree in Ilsan Park. Your arm was hooked around his waist and his was wrapped around your shoulder. The brightest of smiles stretched across your faces as petals danced around you. It was the perfect moment captured in stillness and you wish you could leap through pictures to relive that special day. A distant memory that feels like it happened not too long ago.

“I couldn’t get rid of it. It’s— That’s one of my favorite pictures of us.” You simply explain.

It was true, because out of all of the selfies, candid photos, and other pictures you shared together with Sunghoon, your date to Ilsan Park remained your number one core memory as a couple.

You watch intently as Sunghoon places the photo back where it originally belonged on the console.

“I think that’s one of my favorites, too.” He says as a matter of fact. “That or the one where we went to Lotte World and wore matching uniforms together.” The taller laughs.

You giggled, the recollection of your amusement park date flashing across your mind. You dragged him to go on each and every attraction with you as he stumbled in your tracks, struggling to keep up with your social battery. You felt like two high schoolers in love at the ripe age of 20 because being with Sunghoon gave you the impression that you were your 15-year-old self again.

“I like that one as well! I thought I looked pretty cute in that uniform.” You grin sheepishly.

Sunghoon chuckles and it causes you to whip your head to survey him. His eyes crinkle before they’re no longer crescent and back to their original doe-eyed shape.

“You’re still cute, y’know that?”

The comment sends your heart ablaze along with the blood that rushes to the surface of your cheeks. You can only hope that the thin layer of makeup and blush you applied is strong enough to camouflage the effect that sunghoon has on you. It’s no secret that he was always a smooth talker and still is. It makes you wonder if he’s ever used that flirtatious skill on other women he’s come across after you— or if he has.

You tut your tongue at him and reach for your crossbody purse draped on the couch that you lazily tossed aside yesterday after coming home.

“Ready, m’lady?” Sunghoon twists the knob and pushes the front door open, supporting the weight with his broad frame to keep it from closing in on you two when you exit.

“Wait!” You pip, halting in your steps. You briskly retreat to your room and grab the bouquet of tulips you left on the side table next to your bed.

You scurry over to Sunghoon, cradling the arrangement of florals like it was your baby. The haired boy opens his mouth to say something but you’re too fast to retort,

“I wanna show it off. They’re too pretty to be left at home.”

He nods and motions his hand for you to leave the unit first. The taller gives himself a mental pat on the back for inquiring in a floral shop before coming to retrieve you for dinner.

Tulips are a girl’s best friend, after all. For you, at least.

Coincidentally dinner happens to occur at the one restaurant you frequently visited when you and Sunghoon were dating. It was a simple ma and pa spot only locals in the area knew of. They were popularly known for their cold noodles and ginseng chicken soup. You like to think of it as a secret only two of you know about and continue to gatekeep it from your friends or families from ever coming across of it.

The owners grew familiar with both of you through your frequent visits and friendly conversations. your rapport with them resulted in a warm welcome every time you returned, often accompanied by a generous discount as a token of their appreciation. Since your last visit to their restaurant, a while has gone by, and you both have been overdue to make an appearance at the restaurant.

“Aigoo, Sunghoon-ah, it’s been so long!” Mrs. Kim exclaims, wearing the biggest and brightest smile that brings out the crinkles in her complexion when she notices two familiar faces. “And Y/n, it’s good to see you too!” She turns to you with the same mien still permanently plastered on her face.

You bow your head. Her contagious smile has you mirroring her grin.

“Come, come, sit.” She waves her hand for the two of you to follow in her trail as she leads both of you to your— undesignated but designated— table that you and Sunghoon would constantly sit at.

Before you even have a chance to pull out your chair, Sunghoon beats you to it with surprising swiftness. The aged wood scrapes gently against the floor as he courteously pulls the chair back for you. A warm smile tugs at your lips as you appreciate this chivalrous gesture, unable to contain a soft giggle of delight.

Mrs. Kim watches the interaction between the two of you and smirks, completely out of the loop that you have broken up; still under the assumption that you’re both dating to this day. Who could blame her when in her eyes you were the perfect missing piece for one another in this world like you were made for each other from the start.

“The usual?” She asks despite already knowing the answer to her question.

“Yes please,” Sunghoon nods.

He sits after folding his blazer in half so that it can rest neatly on the chair's backrest. To add some fuel to the flame, he unbuttons the cuffs to his long sleeves and rolls them past his forearms so that they stop an inch below his elbows. The expensive watch that rests snugly on his wrist glistens, almost blinding you. You’re reminded that the man sitting across from you is responsible for an entire company under his name and capable of powerful things.

You gulp. You feel like you’re watching something you shouldn’t be and instead take an interest in the condiments that are pushed to the side of your table.

Soy sauce, vinegar, napkins…

When you think that you’re ready to re-center your attention onto Sunghoon once your racing heart has calmed down from its high, the taller has his eyes closed as he combs his fingers through his hair. His lips are parted ever so slightly and there’s a shine to his plush tiers.

He has to be doing this on purpose now.

You watch the way his Adam apple bobs when he swallows and you swear it should be a sin to look this effortlessly good in warm overhead lighting.

You huff, a little too audibly for the male across from you to hear and his doe eyes flutter open. The sudden eye contact catches you off guard and you’re struggling to maintain yourself from the tension your mind is projecting. You shift around in your chair trying to find a more comfortable position.

This is going to be a long dinner.

After Mrs. Kim returned with your delectable dishes, the food vanished quickly as you guys delved into stories and shared the exciting highlights of your respective journeys. You and Sunghoon spent the rest of your meal at the table reminiscing about the past two years including the many ups and downs you’ve dealt with.

You learned that a month after your breakup, Sunghoon’s father officially stepped down, handing over the reins of the company to his son as the new successor. The ravenette confided in you, revealing that even though he had been groomed for this role his whole life, the transition wasn't as smooth as he had envisioned. The weight of responsibility felt overwhelming. Taking charge of a major company brought with it a level of pressure he had never experienced before. The expectations were high, both from the company's board and the employees who had known him since he was young.

As he grappled with the complexities of his new position, Sunghoon couldn't help but reminisce about a simpler life. He missed the carefree moments he used to share with you, the laughter, and the ease of his unannounced visits when he would turn up at your door with snacks he bought from the corner store and canned beer.

Eventually his determination and drive to persevere kept him standing strong in the face of these obstacles. With his family behind him, a supportive workforce, and you in the back of his mind, he knew he had people to look back on and make them proud.

You praised the older for his character development, gushing at his transition from uncertainty to confidence, while sympathizing with the initial troubles he first started off with. Being a chairman at his age is bound to weigh heavily on his mental and emotional health, and you can’t help but wish that you had stayed by his side through it all in order to be that support pillar he needed at immediacy.

“So, what about you? I didn’t really get to hear your answer yesterday.” Sunghoon asks.

You blinked. “Me? Well, uhm…”

A bubble of insecurity creeps into your stomach. Your mind races through a mental checklist of your own achievements, or rather, the lack thereof, especially when compared to Sunghoon’s impressive journey. While your lives have taken very drastically different paths, you can’t shake the feeling that at the end of the day, the two of you are worlds apart from each other. He’s the chairman of a highly respected company. And you? You’re just a college graduate with a bachelor’s degree in fine arts. A pursuit that feels miles away from Sunghoon’s milestones.

During the period that he was absent from your everyday life, all you managed to build was your art portfolio, which you eagerly sent to numerous galleries in a desperate bid to gain recognition as a struggling artist. Rejection letters became an all too familiar sight, each offering the same hollow praise— impressed but not interested. Those were dark times, where self-doubt loomed large.

Thankfully, your situation started to improve when you summoned the courage to step out of your comfort zone. You took to social media, opening art accounts on Instagram and Twitter, and sharing your artistic odyssey on TikTok. Yunjin, one of your closest friends and best friend since middle school, commissioned you to paint a mural inside a cafe she was working at. “I begged my boss for this to happen!” She said enthusiastically over the phone the night she asked you for the favor. Everything to you was a leap of faith, a glimmer of hope that prompted you to fully believe in the light at the end of every tunnel.

In spite of your situation turning out for the better, it was impossible to ignore the inescapable sense of solitude and loneliness that clung to you like a shadow. It followed you everywhere you went. A mental reminder that, no matter how bright life was starting to seem, you still felt trapped and not completely content with yourself.

You convey these exact thoughts and feelings to Sunghoon in a messy ramble, hoping that this unintentional therapy session you’ve turned dinner into won’t scare him off. You can only hope that you’re not ruining the evening with a sob story of another art kid struggling to make a name for themselves in a society, where choosing art as a career path is at a greater disadvantage in comparison to your stronger counterparts.

When you find yourself coming to the end of your rant, a wave of silence washes over the table, and you grab the nearest cup of water to gulp from. Ignoring the condensation that sweats around the glass and soils your palms. Your eyes look everywhere, purposefully avoiding Sunghoon and the tragic visage he’s probably giving you right about now.

“Y/n, look at me.”

You raise your head, complying to his soft demand.

“I’m proud of you,” he begins, and in that instant, a surge of emotion that has been suppressed for far too long wells up within you. “It takes a lot of courage and willpower to continue to follow a path you’re uncertain of.” The comment makes Sunghoon chuckle dryly, closely reminded of himself, shaking his head. “But look at you, you’re doing so great.”

The warmth in his voice, the sincerity in his eyes— they combine like a gentle storm, and suddenly, tears brim your eyes, begging to spill over. Your vision is splotchy and you refuse to blink, save for ruining your mascara. You weren’t planning on being an emotional wreck tonight, especially over dinner with your ex.

“I understand how hard it must have been dealing with those struggles alone, and I wish I was there by your side to help support you when it happened.” Sunghoon continues. He pauses to take in a breath before resuming, “But I’m here now… I’m not going anywhere, and if you’d let me— I want back into your life again, Y/n.”

A solitary tear breaks free, followed by another, and then another, until suddenly your eyes unleash a torrent of waterworks like a relentless downpour from a stormy sky. You hide your face in a handful of napkins you hastily grabbed, unaware that Sunghoon got up to move from his seat and slipped into the chair next to yours. His touch catches you off guard but you immediately relax as he guides you into his embrace, allowing you to hide yourself in his arms; your face tucked away in his chest. He caresses your hair, his slender fingers thread through your styled locks as he lulls you to comfort from your shaken state.

The two of you stay rooted in that position until you confidently and mentally reassure yourself that you are okay; you’re going to be okay. Your breathing has calmed down from its high and returned to a normal, healthy rate as your tears subsided and are non-existent.

No longer conscious of your makeup— a matter far from substantial to care for anymore— you wipe away the mess around your eyes. Black clumps of mascara and some concealer transfer onto the napkin. Seeing the stains garner a weak laugh to emit from you. Sunghoon cranes his neck to survey what you’ve become engrossed with. He sees the ruined makeup and laughs lightly into your hair.

You’re thankful that there aren’t many customers dining in tonight and that it’s just you, Sunghoon, and three other parties who are far too busy drinking, conversing, and laughing amongst themselves to acknowledge the young couple tucked away in the corner.

Mrs. Kim leads both you and Sunghoon out of the restaurant with a warmth akin to a grandmother bidding her grandchildren farewell, her heartfelt wish for your safe return home evident in her loving smile.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Kim. Thank you, again, for another delicious dinner.” Sunghoon bows at a 90-degree angle and the formality stirs a boisterous laugh from the frail old lady. You mimic his actions, also expressing your gratitude for the lovely meal and free dessert she served to you guys ‘on the house.’

“When you guys come back I better see a wedding ring on her finger, Sunghoon-ah.” Mrs. Kim scolds lightly. You almost choke on your own saliva at the remark, coughing awkwardly to cover up your bewilderment. Sunghoon does his best to maintain his composure for the sake of the elder’s oblivion.

“You guys disappear for two years and still no diamond in sight. I was hoping some big change happened!” She clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth, crossing her arms.

Sunghoon dips his head again in an apologetic manner. “You and Mr. Kim will be the first people we come to with a wedding invitation.”

You whack the taller’s arm giving him a what-the-fuck-are-you-talking-about look, eyebrows scrunched with perplexity. The last thing you want is to continue to feed into Mrs. Kim’s false reality that the two of you are still a couple. Who’s to say that Sunghoon isn’t actually on the same page as you and everything is just a facade? I mean, sure, he’s been flirty here and there, bought you flowers, comforted you at dinner, and practically asked you to take him back…

Your trust in Sunghoon has clearly waned, a result of your fluctuating self-confidence that leads you to confide in the pessimistic "what ifs." Your clouded judgment and self-doubt gnaw at your thoughts, casting doubt on the possibility of a reunion between the two of you.

Sunghoon ignores the daggers slicing at the left side of his face and the buzzing pain you inflicted on him from the harsh impact of your hand. His digits dig gently into your side, drawing you closer to him. You stumble ever so slightly and flash an unconvincing awkward smile to the old lady.

You situate yourselves into the driver and passenger seats of his Hyundai Ioniq. You’re quiet when you pull the seat belt over your upper half, and for the first 10 minutes, not a single word was uttered from either you or the male sitting behind the wheel. Your mind loiters as you watch the building lights illuminating the dark troposphere of Seoul whizz by at 2x speed.

You and Mr. Kim will be the first people we come to with a wedding invitation.

Yeah right… You almost roll your eyes but catch yourself prolonging the idea of a hypothetical engagement and wedding ceremony with Sunghoon as your groom.

Would he have gone down on one knee to propose to you had both of you remained lovers?

You shake the contemplation loose from your prefrontal cortex.

“Is it okay if I roll the window down?” You’re the first to break the ice. Sunghoon nods, his attention still focused on the road in front of him. Without looking, his fingers find the car’s air-con button to turn it off and he gives you the ‘go’ to proceed with your desire.

The tempered glass descends and you’re immediately greeted with the beating rush of the summertime air. You giggle and rest your arms on the weatherstrip trimming of the Hyundai, your head poking out like an excited dog who’s riding in the car with its tongue hanging from its mouth. You close your eyes, taking in the wind that messes with your hair and brushes past your skin. It’s enough to transcend you into a different headspace, almost forgetting that you’re in a moving vehicle and not on some speedboat skidding across the water in Europe.

Sunghoon looks your way, unable to suppress the natural smile that lights up his face whenever he sees you. You truly are a surge of energy he needs when he wants to uplift himself if he’s feeling down. You’re his happy pill— so much so, that he wishes he could keep a chibi version of you for him to carry in the pocket square of his suits and let you rome on the wooden surface of his office desk to help him get through the work day. It’s silly and love-sickening, but Sunghoon only knows how to act a fool with you around him.

His fingers drum against the padding of the steering wheel, waking you from your daydream. You hadn’t realized that you’ve already made it back to the city and are soon approaching your apartment complex. Your neighborhood is only a couple of turns away from your current destination as the two of you sit at a red light. You roll the window up, at least it was fun for the duration it endured.

When he pulls up on the side of the street in front of your building, you try to find some lame excuse to stay with him for another minute longer, not wanting to say goodnight to him. You’re scared that this evening will be a one-off event and you'll return to your old ways, enveloped once more in the arms of self-isolation that consumes you completely.

Your grip on the door handle tightens.

“Sunghoon,” you shift your view in his direction. “You don’t mind walking me to my front door, do you?”

The male smiles with his eyes.

“Who am I to not accompany a lady when needed.”

Sunghoon makes quick work to unbuckle himself from the driver’s seat and rounds the front of the car to open the door for you. He holds out his hand for you to take, which you generously do so, and grants him the unspoken permission to whisk you away into the levels of your residential building.

The elevator ride is a close resemblance to the trip back to your place, however, there’s a contrasting atmosphere waiting to burst like a champagne bottle and spill over. Sunghoon’s holding your hand the entire way and you don’t resist the notion.

When you approach your unit at the end of the hall, you fish for your keys that are sitting at the bottom of your bag. Sunghoon’s hand slips out of your grasp and you almost whine at the loss of his warmth and touch, but you know he’s only doing it for you to use both free hands to ultimately unlock your door. The click! of the lock coming from the other side is an indication that you can push past the door once the knob is turned.

You stand there, hesitant to enter your own home.

“I guess— this is it?” You murmur tentatively to yourself and the taller. You rock on your heels purposefully stalling time as you force both him and yourself to stare a little longer at the iron numbers detailing your front door.

You let out a rigged breath.

“Tonight was great. The longest I’ve been out of the house in a month, really.” You cringe pathetically at the confession knowing that a month ago Yunjin was the one who pulled you out of bed to get some fresh air and sunlight because you were hiding away like a vampire. "Thank you... Sunghoon, for treating me to dinner and spending the evening with me..."

He remains stoic and unusually quiet, making it challenging to decipher what he’s thinking or feeling. You wish you could enter his mind to get a glimpse of how his brain functions. You’d hate to seem pitiful for hoping that his advances from today were, if at all, genuine.

If what he said at dinner was coming from the heart.

As you contemplate what might be your last encounter with your 'the one who got away,’ Sunghoon astounds you with yet another trick up his sleeve, when he secures your wrist in his delicate grasp. Forever one step ahead of you, his lips collide with yours in a passionate fervent. The only appropriate reaction that you can give him in response is to return the kiss with just as much fervor. The strap to your purse slides off your shoulders and lands below you with a little thud thanks to Sunghoon’s antsy hands pushing it out of the way.

He cages you against the surface of the door, your back bumping into it when he forces the distance between your bodies to dissipate. Bothered by the tiny gap that prevents you from being as close as you possibly can to him. The only active barrier is now the layer of clothing he’s wearing and the tiny dress that nearly clings to your every curve. He can’t wait to impatiently rip you out of it and slip in a “I’ll buy you a new one, princess.”

Your hands find sanctuary in his soft hair. How you missed tugging at their roots when he’d go down on you in bed, on the kitchen counter, and in the shower with your one leg supporting your entire weight as Sunghoon made the other side dangle over his shoulder. Those positions are tempting, and biologically the flashbacks of your sexual activity with the male feed into the expansion of your slick that gradually soils your panties.

You squeeze your thighs together. The pressure of your inner fat is an empty feeling of pleasure that you wish Sunghoon could replace with his tongue, fingers, cock, or all three one at a time. The male notices this cry-for-help and trails his right hand down the sides of your waist. He stops at the lace hemming of the cami dress, bunching the material to provide easy access to your mid-thigh. His fingers dance on your skin, traveling upward ever so slowly in an antagonizing fashion that almost infuriates you for his teasing manner in the heat of the moment.

Sunghoon reluctantly breaks the kiss. The evidence of your already smudged matte lipstick has left a faint trace on his plump tiers. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, mouth ready to latch onto the sensitive area he knows best that will cloud every crevice of your mind with nothing but want and lust. At the end of this night, all that you will know is how to be his obedient cocksleeve like the good girl he’s conditioned you into.

The sound of someone clearing their throat on the opposite end of your apartment’s hallway is akin to a record player scratch. You’re grateful that the construction workers, or whoever built this place, designed the structure of your building to be a certain way so that the split-off point from the elevator wasn’t a simple corridor style where you could see both fire exits at each side. Instead, it was more so a wide V-shape.

In other words, no one really caught you and Sunghoon in semi-public eating one another’s faces.

You stop to share a quiet laugh with Sunghoon and ultimately enter the safe space of your flat, out of your neighbors point of view where they could have had a free, front-row seat to some juicy content. The door closes behind you, you can barely get out of your shoes and make it past the front step leading to your living room when Sunghoon’s haste to have you underneath the sheets with him in your bed has you stumbling backward. He catches you before you can register that you would have fallen onto your ass against the hardwood. His lips serve him well, contributing to the situation as a distraction that redirects your every inner thought bubble.

Sunghoon casually kicks off his shoes, adding them to the haphazard pile alongside yours— the least of his concerns at the moment.

The kiss from outside repeats itself, and this time, Sunghoon can contently resume what he intended to do had another tenant not interrupted the mood. But the voyeurism exploration kink in him would have liked either sequence of events.

His tongue traces a wet stripe up your neck, sending a shiver cascading down your spine. You dully bite down on your bottom lip, trying to stifle the whimper that is sanctioned at the back of your throat, trapped by a surge of lust and anticipation. Sunghoon’s mouth ghosts over the shell of your ear, and his hot breath tickles.

“I wanna hear you, baby.” He slurs. “Don’t be shy on me now.”

Sunghoon’s lips sheathe that sensitive spot on your neck, causing you to gasp. Your shoulders tense at the foreign feeling of his mouth on your body, and you’ve forgotten how good it was to receive a hickey. You relax under his touch when he gives the soft fat of your waist a reassuring squeeze.

His canines graze your skin while he sucks on the same patch, switching interchangeably to lap his tongue at the area when he begins to see a blossom of red and purple hues mix together, creating the prettiest bruise that would surely take more than a couple of days to fully heal. You groan when his teeth apply the right amount of force onto your flesh, leaving indents in their wake. His perverted mind relishes in the fact that only he is capable of marking you in ways that no other man could ever come close to.

He steps back to fully appreciate his canvas, that is you, and the absolute masterpiece that you are to him.

He leans in, pressing another kiss to your lips, this time with a gentler, more tender spirit, devoid of any sloppy motions. It’s delicate, a striking contrast to the heated lip-locking session the two of you were entranced with just moments ago on the other side of your apartment door. His larger palms cup your face as the pads of his thumbs caress the apples of your cheeks, making you feel loved and cared for.

Sunghoon lures your tongue into his mouth, clamping his lips around the muscle. He suckles at it, eliciting the cutest whimpers that he missed hearing from you since you’ve been gone.

“Hnngh… Hah,” you pry yourself off of him, a string of your shared saliva connects the two of your equally moist lips.

Your puffy lips shimmer in the moonlight streaming into your livingroom, as if the moon itself decided to play a starring role tonight. You squeeze his bicep, noticing that the muscle has doubled in size since you last touched it. You peer up at the taller through your eyelashes and Sunghoon has to conceal his primal instincts from fucking your throat with his raging hard-on.

Your fingers graze the fabric of his long-sleeve collar, tracing delicate patterns across the black tie donned around his neck. Something about being able to witness a man up close in a suit never failed to provoke a flood of arousal from overwhelming your erogenous zone. Specifically, Sunghoon. It’s a shame— not really— that it eventually has to come off. With a deft touch, you begin to unravel the four-in-hand knot, a testament to Sunghoon’s meticulous self-preparation. The silk unravels, revealing its intricate texture beneath your fingertips.

You assist Sunghoon in removing his suit jacket next, observing it gracefully descend to the floor. You briefly wonder why he's so nonchalant about leaving such an expensive garment on the ground, but he dismisses your concern with a wave of his hand. After all, as a chairman, he has the means and privilege to easily replace such clothing items.

You decide that it’s your turn to take the lead for once and initiate another heated session of sultry lip service. Your mouth kisses Sunghoon’s with primal hunger. Teeth clash, and you see no remorse for your hostility sponsored by pent-up sexual frustration and longing for some sort of relief that only Sunghoon can render.

In a poor attempt to unbutton the last layer of clothing that shields Sunghoon’s upper half, your fingers fumble with the small disks that are fastened by the slits. You whine frustratedly against his lips once you realize you’re not making much progress. It is incredibly hard to multitask when your tongue is being manhandled by his.

“Here, lemme do it.“ Sunghoon mutters in a low growl.

He tears open the placket just like he would to a bag of chips, and the buttons you were struggling to relieve him of pop off in ease, taunting you for your lack of efficiency at getting him out of his attire. He wriggles his arms free from the restraints of his sleeves and shrugs the apparel from the summit of his shoulders, allowing the ruined piece to join his suit jacket on the floor.

“Your turn, babe.”

He twirls you around, your back fully pressed against his front as the tent in his pants pokes at your globes. The thrill of his length nestled between your ass spurs you to grind yourself on him, a staggered exhale of his hot breath fans the curvature of your trapezius, prickling your skin. The cotton material of your underwear cultivates a sticky sensation the longer you stay trapped in it.

“S-shit baby, you’re a fucking tease.” Sunghoon grabs your chin, forcing your head to turn his way so that he can seize your lips in an inconsistent kiss. Alternatively, it’s a tongue duel of him wanting to shove the muscular organ down your throat.

“A-ahh,” You moan helplessly.

He yanks the zipper of your dress. The item peels off of your bust, exposing your bare skin and naked torso simultaneously. You have to wriggle your hips past the remaining fabric in order to fully reveal your bare figure to Sunghoon— besides your damp panties that is.

“No bra today? It’s almost like you were expecting this to happen…” Sunghoon taunts.

“N-no…” You squeak, shaking your head.

“No? Use your words baby.”

You turn to face him, your perky mounds that come into his view are a sight for sore eyes. Even in the dark and scant amount of natural lighting from the celestial object in the night sky, is Sunghoon competent at reading your flustered features. How you manage to be cute yet look so lewd all at once is beyond his comprehension.

“I-I didn’t wear a bra because I thought it’d be easier to go without one.” You mumble, telling the truth.

“That’s better,” Sunghoon coos. He pecks your cheek and you smile at the reward.

“Eeek! S-Sunghoon!” You burst into a fit of shared laughter and giggles when said name scoops you into his arms, your body cradled against his chest, as your legs dangled over his one arm while the other supports your back.

“Just practicing when we’re both walking down the aisle at our future wedding.” Sunghoon jests.

Tenderness fills your eyes when you look up at him. He’s joked about the hypothetical conception of marriage twice in the night that you’re fully convinced it wouldn’t be all that bad of an idea. Given that both of you are ready and first rekindle the status of your relationship, of course.

Sunghoon grins. There’s a gentle kindness to his pearly whites, and you reach up to press a chaste kiss to his jawline.

He relocates to your bedroom. Gently, he lays you down on the bed, your body propped up on your forearms, bearing the weight of your upper half. With an unwavering gaze, you study Sunghoon closely, every detail of his expression and every nuance of his presence.

His eyebrows knit and meet in the middle, fixated on undoing his pants to escape from their restraints, followed by his underwear soon after. His stiff member rebounds off his lower abdomen, precum leaking from the mushroom tip. A satisfied exhale leaves his mouth. He stalks over to you with a sly smirk, towering your smaller frame when he crawls on top of the bed, his knees plant themselves into the mattress and his additional weight dips the space where you lay.

You whine when his length ghosts at the expanse of your inner thigh, suspense and arousal continue to bubble inside of you. Sunghoon murmurs for you to lay back. “Make yourself comfortable,” were his initial instructions before hooking the waistband of your panties with his fingers and dragging them below your legs. The undergarment was tossed to the side.

You nibble at your bottom lip and screw your eyes shut when a slender finger circles the perimeter of your labia.

“You’re so wet babe,” Sunghoon purrs.

Your breath hitches at the back of your throat when he slides his index finger through your inner lips, gathering an abundance of your slick to bring to his mouth for a taste. Both eyes flutter open in time to witness Sunghoon suck at the digit drenched with your arousal. The sight is sinfully lewd, nearly too much for you to handle. Your face reddens and you fight the inclination to hide behind your hands.

“You taste so good, too.“ He licks at his lips. “Wanna try?” Sunghoon cocks his head to the side, and you can’t find it in you to turn down his offer when he looks so innocent— yet acts like the devil himself when he’s overcome with lust. You nod your head with approval.

His duality needs to be studied at Harvard, you think in the back of your mind.

Sunghoon plunges his index finger past your hole, triggering your back to arch an inch off the bed. He chuckles lowly and watches as your hands grab desperately at the sheets beneath you to steady your sanity. The singular digit curls inside of you. Your unforeseen shock is vocalized in the form of a moan and Sunghoon repeats the motion several times.

“O-oh my god—“ You gasp.

The ravenette withdraws his finger and taps at your mouth, signaling you to open. You submit to his implicit dictation. Your lips encase his pointer, tongue swirling around it like a piece of sweet candy you’re tasting for the first time.

You bat your eyelashes prettily and moan. “Mmmh…”

“Dirty girl,” Sunghoon sniggers. He retracts his finger and you let it slip past your mouth with a ‘pop’ sound.

“Can you please give me your cock now?” You plead with a pout, doing your best impression of an endearing set of puppy eyes.

Sunghoon chuckles. “Let me at least prep you first, baby. How long has it been since you’ve had someone’s cock inside of you, anyways?”

You part your lips but close it just as quickly. To be candid, you've never been one to actively immerse yourself in the 'I'm single' scene. Your only foray into it was with Yunjin, roughly three weeks after your split with Sunghoon. The two of you ventured to a club, but it proved to be a brief endeavor. Within two hours, the fifth shot became a catalyst, turning you into an unending fountain of tears.

“Y/n?”

“Huh? Oh. Sorry…”

“I’m sorry baby. Did I overstep your boundaries?” Sunghoon cups your face with his right hand, his eyes scan yours, sincerity and concern laced in those chocolate orbs of his.

You stifle a giggle. Of all boundaries he could have crossed he draws the line at asking for your body count and not him fingering you.

“What? What’s so funny?” He asks.

“Nothing just… I think it’s ironic you ask me that now and not before we did all of this.” You motion to your bare bodies when you say ‘this.’

Sunghoon’s ears redden.

“But don’t worry, Hoonie.” You hook your arms around his neck and pull him closer to pepper his face with several reassuring kisses. “I don’t mind it all. Now can you please fuck my brains out!”

Your ex (whatever he is to you at this point) throws his head back to share a quick laugh, shortly pressing his forehead against yours.

Without warning, he buries three fingers in your pussy; your hips twitch at the sentience. They slide in and out without strain and together the two of you watch as he finger fucks your hole to “prep” for his cock. The squelching noise of your juices fill the room in addition to your moaning, and Sunghoon confronts a hurdle of his patience wearing thin, wanting to fuck you senseless.

His digits leave your hole and you whine immediately at the loss. Sunghoon uses the mass quantity of slick as a substitute for lube to lather on his angry cock. He shuffles against the bed, forcing your legs even further apart to fit himself in between them. The stretch burns your muscles but is soon forgotten when the tip of his length is rubbing your folds, occasionally bumping your swollen clit which generates a needy whine.

Sunghoon’s face screws with ecstasy when his shaft inches past your entrance. Your walls hug his length and he whimpers at the tight muscles that suffocate his erection. You squirm under him, tensed and breathing heavily. It’s hard to relax when seven inches feel like it’s splitting you in half after a long hiatus from sex. Sunghoon notices your discomfort and stills his hips from pushing further, allowing you the necessary time to adjust.

“Sorry baby, I know it’s been a while. You can take it, right? Like the good girl you are?”

You nod. He kisses your forehead, cheek, and lips to soothe your anxiety, using his lips as a distraction to keep your mind from zoning in on his cock. He seizes the opportunity to fit the rest of his length inch-by-inch, and you feel like a virgin all over again when the burn of his cock stretching you open is almost too unbearable.

“Sshh, it’ll be alright, baby.” He wipes away a loose tear. “I’m gonna move, tell me when and if it’s too much, okay?”

“O-okay, Hoonie…”

Steadily, Sunghoon recedes his hips, cock following in suit, just enough for the tip to be the only thing that your pussy clenches on. He snaps forward, your boobs jiggle at the motion and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head when he repeatedly thrusts at a steadfast pace. The pain you were once scared of is no longer a fear you have to worry about, as pleasure is the only thing you know how to feel.

“F-faster, harder, p-please Hoon.” You fight through broken moans to let your voice be heard.

“Shit—“ He curses.

Sunghoon’s fingers dig into the plush fat of your waist while his other hand presses into the space of your bed next to the side of your head. His eyebrows knit, focused entirely on increasing the speed of his thrusts. He continues to piston fuck your pussy, abusing your hole in the utmost gratifying procedure. Your thighs jiggle each time that his balls slap against your skin. Everything reminds him of an amateur homemade video he’s seen from other couples perform on Pornhub. He’ll have to ask you some other day if you’d ever be open to filming your own tapes to watch back.

“Mmh, right there, Hoonie.” You sigh dreamily, locking your legs around his waist and linking your ankles together. “You’re fucking me so good— Aah!” A high pitch squeal slips from your vocal box when his tip probes at your G-spot.

“F-fuck,” Sunghoon leans in close, relying only on one forearm to hold himself up from crushing you with his entire weight. He hides his face in your boobs, tongue flicking at the sensitive bud that hardens in response. He persistently thrusts deeper, his cockhead pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Hnngh… Y-yes, yesyesyes!” You chant. Your fingers tangle themselves in his hair, scratching gently at his scalp and tugging whenever his mouth would suck or massage at your breasts. “You’re gonna— make me c-cum!“

Sunghoon’s unrelenting despite your warning. He can feel your walls clamping around his shaft, signaling your impending orgasm, and it taunts him to force himself deeper within your warm cavern at every jerk of his hips. Your hands fall to his biceps. Nails digging into his skin as your face distorts into extreme pleasure.

“I’m so close too, baby.” He groans. “Just.” Thrust. “A.” Thrust. “Couple.” Thrust. “M-more!”

“I’m cumming! I’m c-cumming—“ Your hips tremble with a frenzied urgency as your pussy pulsates around Sunghoon’s cock. Your mouth opens in a silent gasp and a long, impassioned moan escapes your lips. The sheer intensity of the moment leaving you incoherent and lost in ecstasy.

Sunghoon twitches inside of you. “Hah— you’re so— fuck!— s-sexy,” He grunts. Your head thrashes at the overstimulation of his length continuously pumping into you and you push at Sunghoon’s chest weakly, crying on his cock for him to slow down. You whine, whimper, plead for mercy so that your pussy can recover from the intense orgasm you just experienced not too long ago. In spite of that, he ignores your pleas and concentrates on finishing. It isn’t until white ropes of cum are shooting at your walls when his thrusts start to get sloppier and progressively come to a stop.

“Fuck.” Sunghoon exhales through gritted teeth. Both of you are a panting mess trying to catch your breaths as your chests rise and fall synchronously. The ravenette pulls out slowly and he groans when he sees his seed spill out of your hole, it closely reminds him of those hentai comics he’s read through illegal websites.

“I’ll get something to help clean you up.” Sunghoon lifts his weight from the bed but you reach for his forearm to grab him. You don’t have to say anything for him to understand that you don’t want him to leave your side. He brings a hand to yours, the pad of his thumb grazing the hills of your knuckles soothingly. “It’ll be fast, I promise.”

Not even 30 seconds has gone by when he re-enters your room with a damp cloth. He wipes at the areas where a mix of your cum and his seed litter your skin with sticky residue. He discards of the ruined cloth before joining you in bed where you welcome him with open arms. He plops down next to you and you turn to lay on your side so that you can get a proper view of his handsome face in post-sex afterglow. You reach out to gently touch his moles that adorn his features. The moles you missed seeing as the first thing in the morning when you’d wake up with him by your side. He grins lazily and cranes his neck to bring his lips to your forehead.

“Sunghoon…?” Your faces are merely inches apart from one another. Though the close proximity is not a foreign situation— especially after just having sex— you speak to him with a hushed tone.

“Yes?” He inquires.

“At the restaurant, you implied that you wanted to get back together again… Is it true? Do you really mean it?” Your lips are quivering and you mentally berate yourself for being so soft hearted in these types of scenarios where emotions are high, vulnerable, and transparency is called upon.

Sunghoon breathes shakily. “I really mean it. I miss you, Y/n.” He tucks away loose strands of hair that fall on your face. “These past two years without you have been hell. The first couple of months were so bad, I almost reconsidered being the chairman for father’s company so I could fight for us. Fight for you. I’m sorry if that part of my life got in our way as a couple, and I wish I had made more of an effort to be around you.”

You sniffle, “It wasn’t just your fault. I should’ve communicated instead of thinking I know better and that I thought what I did was for the greater good— because it wasn’t. And you’re right, the two years I spent without you were awful. I never wanna go through that again.”

Sunghoon loops an arm around your waist and guides your head to bury against his chest.

“We don’t have to.”

Morning rays gently infiltrate the room as Sunghoon stands before the full-length mirror in your shared master bedroom. His voice carries across the space as he greets his loving wife, 'Good morning, Mrs. Park,' while he meticulously adjusts his tie.

You stir in bed. The unwelcome intrusion of sunlight forces you awake despite the supposedly blackout curtains you requested when you first moved in with Sunghoon. You sigh in irritation. Dismissing the hope of another ten minutes of sleep, you push yourself upright, your arms stretching above your head, accompanied by a vibrant yawn. Sunghoon, amused by your morning ritual, chuckles softly.

“Still sleepy?” Your husband turns to face you after successfully finishing the Windsor knot of his tie. You blink away the fog of grogginess from your eyes and grin when you get a clear vision of your husband clad in his usual work uniform.

“Mmm… you’re so handsome.”

Sunghoon's face lights up with a genuine smile, touched by your kind words that always seem to set the perfect tone for his day. He approaches your side of the bed with a confident saunter and takes a seat beside you.

“Any plans for today, my lovely wife?”

You can't help but giggle at his endearing habit of calling you 'wife' and 'Mrs. Park.' It's become a sweet tradition between the two of you, a reminder of your loving bond that has grown since your wedding day. You twist your hand to observe the silver band that ornaments your ring finger. The diamond twinkles back at you in the bask of the light.

“I think Yunjin and I are getting brunch, then we’re going shopping right after, and later in the evening we’re gonna drink some wine and paint as we gossip about our husbands.”

Sunghoon laughs. “You’ve got a busy day ahead of yourself then.” He nudges your side playfully and you giggle. “Don’t forget to fit me into your schedule. Let’s go out for dinner tonight.”

“Cold noodles and ginseng chicken soup?”

“Where it all started.”

You envelop yourself in your husband's embrace, showering him with affectionate kisses. Starting from his moles and moving to both cheeks, his nose, forehead, and, ultimately, his irresistible lips, you express your love and absolute adoration for him with each tender peck.

“I love you, Mr. Park.” You murmur against his plush tiers.

His fingers delicately sweep aside the loose strands of hair obscuring your face, as he lovingly takes in every captivating feature, examining them with deep worship.

“I love you more, Mrs. Park.”

Two years ago you and Sunghoon sealed the knot in California. The ceremony took place at the Alila Ventana wedding venue, perched on a cliff along the rugged coast line of Big Sur. It offered a dramatic landscape, nestled amidst towering redwood trees, and a breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean; the perfect picturesque backdrop for photos and videography. The outdoor spaces, gourmet dining, and coastal elegance were truly significant factors of your reception.

Sunghoon kept his promise to Mrs. Kim when the time came to send out the wedding invitations. Her excitement was beyond words as both of you entered the restaurant, radiating a newfound delight. Her gaze immediately fixated on the sparkling diamond ring on your finger— the same one she had scolded him for, which was now complete.

Come time to exchange your vows, Sunghoon's heartfelt declaration to cherish and devote himself to your love made it extremely difficult to keep your makeup in tact. Yunjin, your appointed maid of honor, had to step in to hand you tissues one after the other. The audience laughing to themselves at your showcase of emotions.

True to his words, Sunghoon carried you bridal style as he stalked down the aisle. Your families and friends cheering from their seats, their joyous applause resonating through the air. The warmth of their smiles and the happy tears in their eyes mirrored the love that enveloped you both in that moment.

Since then, life with Sunghoon after marriage was anything but dull.

#cgi-aenergy #enhypen fluff #enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen #enha #park sunghoon #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon enhypen #minors dni

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jinkookspencil · 10 months

Text

til you make it | jjk

jungkook is startled when you call him in need of a favor... to play his dream role - your boyfriend - for a day...

tags/description: jk x chubby reader / fluff / friends to lovers / fake dating trope / rating: like pg13 or 15 with swear words / slow paced / it feels like one very long date :)) / this can be read as a oneshot but it ends in a way that sets up a part 2 which i will likely write but i still haven't gotten the chance to do so please bear with me / image from koomoments, i found it on goggle and edited it further

words: ~7.7k

tw+note: this fic includes fatshaming - detailed description: someone makes a comment about jk being out of oc/yn’s league and her not being good enough to date jungkook because of her size (the person says this to jk, behind oc/yn's back). oc/yn assumes people think that too, and talks to jungkook about her experiences dating as a plus-sized woman, mainly the fact that her ex was ashamed to go out with her. and in case anyone is wondering about where this fic comes from and any sensitivities regarding this fic, this is another fic that is loosely based on an experience i had myself... well, i wish this was what i had ~.~ i channeled my hurt into something comforting for myself and hopefully others. if anyone has ever been in a similar position and was fat-shamed or made to feel like they don't deserve good things because of your size, just know that you never deserved that treatment - you deserve all the good the world has to offer. lots of love always to my fellow curvy/plus/chubby people, and anyone who takes the time to read my fics <3

“Jungkook… Jungkook are you there?”

Your muffled voice echoed through his phone, thrown on the bed behind him as he searched his room frantically for his sweatpants. Talking to you on the phone wasn’t uncommon, but he jumped the moment he saw your name and when the clock on his bedside table confirmed the time. 3 AM. Later than you’d ever called. Dressing might’ve been a silly notion, but at this hour, his fight or flight response was triggered, and he couldn’t bring himself to think, let alone talk to you half-dressed. The urgency and/or intimacy of it all… frightened him.

“Yes! I’m here!” he calls out, hopping into his sweatpants before grabbing the phone and putting you up to his ear, feeling the cool glass of his screen nudged between his neck and his shoulder as he tied the strings at his stomach. “What’s up?”

“I need… a favor.”

“Anything.” He couldn’t have answered any faster. In the back of his mind, Jungkook hoped you’d called for another late-night talk, maybe one of your delirious, exhaustion-caused conversations where you’d fall asleep to his voice as he played along with whatever you’d wanted to talk about… Those were his favorites, even doing the same to you himself. Or maybe it was to inquire about one of his ramen recipes, going so far as to hope you’d ask him to come over and make it for you… In a perfect world, maybe. Well, if it were a perfect world, it’d be a confession.

A favor only made his heart race faster. Jungkook trusted his intuition in getting dressed, already walking to his front door, ready to go to you wherever you were... He already presumed you weren't drunk in a club and in need of someone to pick you up... you didn’t sound like it. The ramen recipe, perhaps? Though you sounded too anxious for it to be so. In any case, he meant his words - he’d do anything for you…

“It’s not serious, but it will take up some of your time tomorrow.”

“I said anything,” he reiterates, partly relieved.

“I’m invited to a wedding next week - my sister's best friend - and I need to get a dress. Do you mind coming to the mall with me tomorrow…”

That’s it? Jungkook joyously helped you pick out outfits, accessories, and even nail polish colors in the past, and every time he did - whether you’d asked or when he’d subtly recommended something he liked to you - his heart would flutter whenever he’d seen you actually take his advice, so he’d definitely agree, happily even…. but there had to be more to it.

“Well, I mean, of course….” he whispered quietly into the phone, his confusion apparent.

“Yeah, there’s more to it - don’t agree just yet...” In the moment of silence that followed, Jungkook silently prayed you’d ask him to go to the wedding with you. To be your plus one. Oh, what he’d give to spend the night beside you, the both of you all dolled up… Imagining the possible starlights at the scene with love in the air, he knew it’d be a great chance at finally confessing. If he chickened out, at least he’d be able to imagine what it’d be like to be your boyfriend for a night.

“Would you…. Would it be okay if you pretended to be my boyfriend?” Jungkook felt his stomach turn at the thought of the heavens answering his prayers that quickly and immediately regretted not asking for more. He almost missed what you’d said next. “If we go shopping tomorrow…. Would it be okay for you to pretend to be my boyfriend?”

“When… when we go shopping?” Jungkook choked, knowing you could hear his confusion through the phone once again.

“Yeah… You see… Most times when I go shopping… someone always has something to say about my body, and I’m kind of sick of it. ‘You won’t find anything in our store. Please leave.’ ‘I’m surprised this fits you.’ And then, just last week, I got the ‘Honey, no dress could flatter you enough that you’d be able to pull a man.’ That got me thinking, and…. I kinda suspect you, or someone, a man, being there with me might shut them up… some weird form of using the patriarchy and people’s internalized misogyny to, weirdly enough, protect my peace.”

Jungkook felt his blood boil as you went on. You, the most beautiful person he’d ever met, were being shamed… spoken to in that way…. often? People went out of their way to make you feel bad…. for having a body?

“What the fuck…”

“Yeah… I’m a bit embarrassed, actually… Should we forget it? Pretend I never asked. If it’s too much, I could just go alone - if I experience it, I experience it. I’m used to it. I just want to… try this as an experiment.”

“Don’t ever feel embarrassed. You don’t have to be. I feel embarrassed for not… for not knowing... I’m so fucking sorry you… ever had to go through that.” He’d felt a pang in his heart as the words left his mouth. An idiot was what he thought he was. It was something he’d never spared a thought about - how people, how you, could be mistreated in everyday life for simply existing as you were….

“No, don’t be sorry, Jungkook. It is what it is.”

It is what it is? It shouldn’t be, he thought.

“Of course I’ll be there, ____. Of course, I’ll be your boyfriend.” He told you he’d do anything for you, and he meant it - he needed you to know that - and this was the very least he could do. “And hey, for the record, I’ll never let that ever happen to you again, you hear me? You just call me, okay? Anytime. I’ll do whatever I can. You’re not going through this shit again, okay? I'm your boyfriend whenever you want me to be... ”

Did you take the hint?

“Thanks, Jungkook,” you say, with an exhale and a slight giggle that gives away that you’d been choked up, the final nail in the coffin for Jungkook’s composure…

It wasn't the right time to confess, he knew that, but an ‘I love you’ still rested at the tip of his tongue. Friends loved each other... 'I love you' was always a comforting thing to hear... would it be so awkward now? You both have told each other variations of the saying in the past - from ‘love ya’s’ to random finger hearts in crowded rooms- but never the exact phrase. It held too much weight - the weight of the confession that, similarly, he’d been dying to relay…. but he reminded himself... it wasn't the right time.

“I told you… anything”

“I’ll see you tomorrow… boyfriend.”

✿

“Hi… girlfriend.”

Jungkook didn’t even try to hide the smile on his face. It’d hopefully overshadow the bags under his eyes… He’d been up for hours after your call - pressure, joy, anger, and pain overwhelming him all at once as he imagined what you might’ve gone through before, what undeserving, cruel words you’d heard from people too blind to see the sheer beauty before them. It hurt him even more that you felt embarrassed about asking him for help. You never should’ve been embarrassed about a damn thing. If anything had been embarrassing at the situation, it was the time he’d spent in front of his mirror, rehearsing vague, angry threats and snide comments he might have had to make, tapping out after a cringey “that’s my girlfriend” line.

Jungkook was never one to insult and intimidate others so purposefully, his enigmatic baby villain-like exterior always doing the work instead. It'd work whether they saw him as the lovestruck, caring sweetheart he was or the tough, protective boyfriend he could also be... but he knew the tattoos, piercings, and his physique probably aided him with the latter option, with Jungkook himself assuming it was the reason you'd asked him specifically to help out, especially over Taehyung, your mutual friend who also happened to be an actor... And busy on a late-night shoot, Tae left him helpless. He could not prepare any speech or insult to save his life, stuck between how to go about his dream role. You'd trusted him, and Jungkook decided he had no choice but to trust himself too. Whatever he emulated was up to the other person, and whatever came out of him would be the truth he’d been feeling at the moment. Whether he leaned into either side - either knowingly or unknowingly - all of it was still him, and specifically him as a boyfriend... That killed the nerves more than anything and allowed him to focus on the silver lining. He’d gotten the role he’d always wanted, and though there could have been better contexts, you looked as beautiful as ever in your flowy sundress… even as you did roll your eyes.

“Boyfriend,” you greeted him jokingly, smiling too before looking at him up and down. “What do you have going on today, Koo? I can't tell if you just came from the gym or not.”

Jungkook shakes his head in response, a proud, bunny-toothed smirk on his face. After ransacking his entire wardrobe that morning, he paired his go-to ripped jeans with a Nike muscle tee, clutching his motorcycle jacket in his hand. It wasn’t like him to wear sleeveless tops outside of the gym, still shy to show off the muscles he’d worked so hard for, as well as the tattoos he’d designed himself…. but provided he was there to intimidate others - and hopefully impress you - he had no doubts about showing them off and his mish-mash of an outfit. “This is just in case anyone even thought about saying anything to you today,” he added, flexing his muscles before spreading his arms wide open. “Come here.”

It didn’t pass Jungkook’s eye that you’d hesitated to step into his arms, but when you do, he finds himself inhaling deeply - your scent, but more so the feeling of you. With you in his arms, everything fell into place, as it always had with you.

“I’ve always got you. I have your back, you know that right?” he whispered into your neck, digging his fingertips as hard as he could into your soft, plush skin, hoping it’d emphasize his promise when he noted how your heartbeat hadn’t slowed as it always did when you hugged.

You hadn’t said a word the entire time, even as you pulled away and glanced up at him - ever so briefly. He'd have waited until you said something first, but he’d always read your face with ease, and the panic he sensed emanating from you only agonized him further. Once again, he tries to push away the scenarios you must’ve gone through.

He murmurs your name, sparking your attention. Remembering his role for the evening, Jungkook allowed himself to follow an urge he’d always resisted, brushing a stray hair away from your face, cupping your round chin in his hands. It felt too good - a taste of his forbidden imagined scenarios and the person he'd always dreamt of.

“Always, okay? I won’t allow my girlfriend to go through this,” he said, forcing himself to emphasize the title he wanted to give you in a teasing way. Again, you roll your eyes and push his hand away.

“We’re just testing a theory, Koo,” you say, starting to walk with him alongside you. “Don’t… get too into it.”

“Are you kidding? The acting classes I took years ago are finally coming in handy. This is good practice,” he said, wishing he could just tell you that he likely wouldn’t be acting at all - merely doing all the things he wished he could do on a regular basis. He kicked it off by grabbing your wrist, intertwining your fingers into his.

Jungkook had been so cool, so collected until this moment. It was only until he actually did it that Jungkook realized that hand-holding was expected, and he cursed himself for not spending more time prepping himself in front of the mirror. It was such a simple act, what he always wanted to do.... and so it drove him crazier than the hug. You’d hugged in the past, as friends do, but never held hands... not like this, at least. Taehyung had urged him to try doing so in the past, to ‘gauge your response,’ but he’d always been too much of a coward to do anything besides ask for high-fives and offer his elbow for you to hold when he walked you home. You were braver, taking his hand and tracing his tattoos whenever your talks went a little too deep or needed a distraction…. just as you did now, with your finger rubbing the skin below his thumb... Still, this felt different for the both of you.

Jungkook bit at his lips, trying to hold back….something. He himself wasn’t even sure if it was a smile or a squeal, but he soon remembered the point of his presence. The favor. A boyfriend - he, as a boyfriend - would never be able to keep his eyes off of his loved one. So, he’d allowed himself to steal glances your way, noting every single time how low you’d kept your head as you walked.

"Hey," he says, stopping.

"What?"

"Nothing," he smiles, taking in your expression and the way the sunlight beautifully shone on your face. "I just wanted to look at you."

"Okay, Bradley Cooper in A Star is Born," you chuckle, nudging him to continue your walk. "You need to watch more movies."

"And you need to know that you look really pretty today. You do know you're pretty, right?"

"Oh, shut up, Koo... I know."

Jungkook didn't know if you believed him or if you were serious or not, but he knew damn well that he was... Perhaps he was overdoing it already, but remembering how quickly his prayers had been answered just the night before, he held out hope that the universe still had his back, silently praying you’d soon realize see how good of a “fake” boyfriend he was and asked him to be your real one.

“This is the main store I wanted to visit, Koo,” you say, stopping in front of a modern gold and beige storefront on the busy high street. Suddenly, he felt an emptiness in his hand and at his side when you let go to reach out and pull open the glass door. Already half open, he forcefully tugs the brass handle as far back as he could, holding the door open for you to walk in first.

“I’m your boyfriend, remember? Let me do it,” he whispers by your ears and into the stony silence of the cool room.

Looking around, Jungkook quickly saw plenty of dresses that’d look great on you. It was overwhelming at first glance, but the one you pulled out from a nearby rack trumped them all. A blush, floor-length tulle dress, with tiny embroidered daisies scattered all over the fabric, including the translucent balloon sleeves and an off-shoulder neckline. It was almost as beautiful as you were.

“I knew they had this in stock! What do you think?” you smile, putting it up against your body. For the first time that day, Jungkook’s mind went blank - he was suddenly grateful you hadn’t asked him to accompany you to the wedding. It’d be too much to see you in it.

“Pretty,” he murmurs, holding the fabric between his index and thumb, tracing over a tiny daisy.

“Right? I’ll go try it on. Wait here, okay?” you say, moving to leave but quickly returning to place a swift kiss on his cheek.

Jungkook was so taken aback he did nothing even long after he’d seen you approach the sales assistant in the back and disappear into a dressing room.

“You can sit over here,” said the woman, who now returned and pointed at the arrangement of chairs a few steps away.

“Thanks,” he whispered, only now realizing his hand had been on his cheek, tracing the ghost of your kiss. You’d kissed his cheek. He’d been happily playing the role of the boyfriend the entire time, he hadn’t realized you hadn’t done much to play the role of ‘the girlfriend’ in return. But you did it. You kissed him. You wanted to, at least in that moment…

Jungkook tried not to linger on the thought any longer, knowing it’d feed his delusions. Pulling out his phone as he plopped onto the velvet seat, he loaded up the mobile game he’d been struggling with, and it was a few minutes later when he realized someone had been calling him.

“Sorry?” Jungkook asked, looking up to see the sales assistant leaning on the couch opposite him.

“I said ‘Hey,’” she repeats.

“Hey…” he responds, perplexed until he realizes you might've been calling him. “Is she okay in there? Does she need me?”

“Uhm, I don't think so,” she replies, seemingly just as confused as he was. “But… I was wondering… what’s her deal?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is she rich or something?”

“What?”

“I mean, what’s the catch, exactly? Why are you with her?”

“Because I love her? There's no catch.” It was freeing to say the words so openly, Jungkook thought - they’d left his lips without a thought. Still, what's it to her?

“Oh, come on,” she went on, rolling her eyes. “You know you’re out of her league. Just keep her for 'her kind' and the fetish freaks on the Internet, you know? You’re too hot to-“

In utter disbelief and refusing to hear another word, Jungkook stood up and made a beeline for the dressing room, his long strides and huffs echoing throughout the store in response.

“Hey, babe - need any help with the dress?” he asks a little too loudly, knocking on the dressing room door in the same fashion.

“....Yeah, actually. Can you get the woman that works here?” you say on the other side.

“No. Let me in.”

“Jungkook, just call her.”

“Let me in. I’m your boyfriend,” he emphasizes. “Let your boyfriend help.”

“…This dress is supposed to be a surprise, honey,” you reply.

“Babe, I already saw the dress,” he half-chuckles, almost forgetting his anger. You were clever as hell but never thought of the wittiest comebacks - it was endearing.

Jungkook rushed through the moment you pried open the wooden door, turning the metal lock behind him. Still lost in his thoughts, he mindlessly zips up your dress before stomping to the room’s bench, sitting upon it with his head in his hands.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he lies, feeling just how furrowed his brows had been as he stared at the floor.

“You don’t seem like it. Why’d you insist on coming in here?” you say by the mirror a few footsteps away.

“.....Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit, this was uncool. I just wanted to get out of there. The… uh… scents on their diffuser were too much. My nose acted up... started sneezing.” It was hard to lie to you. He’d rushed over because he always had, for you were his safe space even now, but it surely was to prove something too. His eyes darted around the cramped dressing room, trying to look anywhere but you... he was too ashamed. “I'm so sorry, ____. This was my first thought. I didn’t even think that you were obviously getting dressed. Should I leave?”

“Koo, honey, relax. I don't know what's up, but... I don't think I want you to leave," you softly whisper.

Pink obstructed his vision, the spot on the carpet he'd been so focused on. Daisies made him snap out of his rage. And the hand on his knee interrupted the voice in his head that’d been on a tirade on the injustices of the world. But looking up at you, the world suddenly seemed so beautiful - you were in it.

“I'd never leave, then,” he says with a smile. “I’m fine.”

The reassurance was enough for you to get up from your crouched position by his legs and return to the mirror.

“We both know you can't lie, so I need you to tell me how I look in this dress. My curves stick out a little more than I’d like, and I don’t know how I feel about the whole arm situation. But I think I’ll get it. Nice, huh?”

“Nice." Repeating your description was the only thing he could do, unable to think of anything else to say. You were covered in flowers, yet here you stood, prettier than every single flower he’d seen in his entire life, let alone the ones on your dress. The dress did cling to your body at certain angles, and that’s what made it even all the more alluring. He had no idea what you’d meant by 'the whole arm situation' - the skin he’d always wanted to bite on was even more tempting through the translucent fabric… and with your shoulders out... it was a sight too good to be true. A wave of envy rushed over him, thinking of all the wedding guests that'd see you in the dress for hours while he only got a glimpse... They had no idea just how damn lucky they were, but Jungkook knew that he was as well, grateful for this very moment and trying to take a photographic memory of how you looked, twirling so alluringly in the room with him alone.

“Beautiful, actually,” he quickly adds.

"Good. If your nitpicky Virgo ass thinks it's a beautiful dress, then that means it really is pretty,” you say, satisfied.

It wasn't the dress that was so beautiful...

He opens his mouth to correct you, but nothing comes out, and you speak before he does. “Uhm, help me with the zipper again?”

Jungkook’s anger had blinded him when he’d zipped it up - the intimacy of the moment only just sinking in when he stood behind you, facing the back of your neck and shoulders. He was unzipping your dress - granted, not in the context he’d always imagined, but he couldn’t help but do it at the speed he’d always wanted to… slow and steady. What felt like an eternity later, just a few centimeters from the top of the dress, Jungkook sees lace peeking through. Abruptly letting go of the metal in his hands, Jungkook inhales, trying to shove away the image, but it must’ve been the hardest thing he’d ever tried to do. He never imagined you were the type to wear a strapless, lacy maroon bra. He didn’t even think bras came in that color. The rare times he dared to take his imagination that far, only for fleeting moments, he’d mentally dress you up in pink or black… Maroon was, somehow, sexier. This... this was too good to be true.

But Jungkook, always so detail-oriented, quickly spots a tiny piece of metal at your waist. Another zipper. Did he zip that one up as well? His fingers pull the zipper down, only for your hand to cover his, stopping him.

*“*Thank you, Koo... I got it from here,” you say with a hush.

"I'm sorry," he says in a similar fashion, stepping away.

"Don't be. But, uhm... I’ll get dressed. You don’t have to leave, but… can you... look away?”

“Of course,” Jungkook panics, turning around to face the abstract art on the wall. He tried his hardest to make sense of the colorful shapes in front of him, but all he could take in were the sounds behind him. Soft fabric, falling onto the carpeted floor. The brushing of bare feet… bare thighs. Fabrics, zippers, a clanky hanger…. He reckoned that if he tried hard enough, he might’ve been able to hear the humming of a radiator that must’ve been hidden behind these walls - he could certainly feel the heat, wiping away a bead of sweat. Another zipper. Probably the actual source of all the heat.

“Done, Koo,” he hears softly from behind him.

With a blink, Jungkook realized the shapes in front of him clearly made up a cityscape.

“Koo,” you call again, and he finally turns around to face you, hoping his face hadn’t been as flushed as yours was. You’d been changing - what excuse did he have? The giggle you let out confirms his suspicions, which he tried to cough away... until he gets an idea.

"Oh, hey, wear this," Jungkook says, handing you his leather jacket.

"W-why would I?" you ask.

Because I always wanted you to wear my clothes, I finally have an excuse to ask you to do so, and this will drive me and everyone else crazy, Jungkook thinks.

"It's cold outside," he utters.

"Jungkook, it's almost summer... why else would I be wearing a sundress?"

"It can get breezy! And hey, you want my opinion on fashion? Your outfit will look better with this on." Not exactly what he wanted to say.... "You know... sundress and leather jacket? Pretty and tough... Juxtaposition... It's a thing. It's... what couples do."

"I don't know if it'll fit, Koo," you say quietly, staring at the piece of clothing in his hands.

"Drape it over your shoulders, then," he says, doing it himself. He guessed that it would have fit you but didn't insist on it then and there - even if it hadn't, he'd always find ways to make you feel loved as his girlfriend... And you looked adorable in his jacket.

"Looks even better this way, actually..." you murmur, brushing away the hair from your face, clearly flustered. It gives Jungkook the exact rush and confidence he needs. He unlocks the door, taking your hand as he walks out of the dressing room together - more than ready to nail his dream role once again.

“It was a perfect fit - I’ll buy this for sure,” you say to the sales assistant with a smile, placing the dress on the marble counter. Jungkook could feel you try to let go of his hand, but he wouldn’t budge and only held on tighter - he’d let you struggle with your purse one-handedly if it meant he was holding your hand.

It only helped him reach for his wallet with his free hand quicker, handing the woman his black card after she’d announced the price.

“Jungkook, no,” you whispered, hand deep in your purse, the other still trapped by his grasp.

“Baby, it’s only fair that I pay,” he starts, in a low, hushed tone just loud enough to be heard as he takes in your quizzical expression with a smirk on his face. “…Since I’ll be ripping it off of you later.”

Jungkook can't help but chuckle, seeing you go catatonic beside him after letting out a comically loud gulp in response. He doesn’t need to look at the sales assistant’s face to know she’d been startled as well, almost forgetting to hand him the receipt. Putting away his card and wallet single-handedly, Jungkook quickly looks back at you when he realizes your hand has turned limp in his. He’d only ever seen you so petrified when he’d suggested you watch a horror film together, in the hopes of you curling up in his arms - but he’d always stupidly ruin the moment with a laugh seeing your frozen state and wide eyes, just like now…

“I love seeing my girl all flustered. You looked so beautiful in it, honey... Just wait til Sunday,” he laughs with a wink, wrapping an arm around you to pull your body closer to his and finally place a kiss on your head. He didn’t even know if the wedding was on a Sunday - if the lie fits… “Excuse me, do you know if there are any lingerie stores nearby? A place they’d sell something that suits the dress? I’m not done treating her - well, the both of us, really….”

“There’s a place two blocks down,” the woman says with her face flushed, and Jungkook yanks the bag into his hands the moment he is able to do so.

“Thanks,” you whisper, seemingly to both him and the woman. Reaching for your hand once again, Jungkook intertwines your fingers in his, occupying both of his hands and awkwardly following you out.

The two of you walk side by side in silence, replaying the moment until the store is out of sight and Jungkook finally realizes the gravity of what he’d said.

“____... Sorry about… what I said back there. I really didn't mean to be disrespectful... I should’ve checked in with you first before just saying that shit. It was just where my mind went to, and...Wait… Fuck.. please don’t think I had those thoughts when-”

“You didn’t?”

“Huh?”

“You didn’t have those thoughts?”

Jungkook could so easily read your face most times, but this wasn’t one of them. Did you want him to have those thoughts about you? Should he lie? Were you just playing the role of the girlfriend, even now? Should he answer as the boyfriend or just Jungkook or…

“Relax, Koo. It was just unexpected… a little jerky, if it wasn’t you or if I hadn’t asked you to pretend… I thought the maroon suits the dress, though,” you pout.

“It does!” Jungkook blurts. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Jungkook. That was actually nice,” you reassure him with a squeeze on his arm, interrupting his train of thought.

“Nice?”

“Yeah… this is all…. this is very nice,” you hum, tugging at his leather jacket on your shoulders before wrapping your hands around his arm.

Was it really happening?

“I know you’re just faking it, but… it feels good to be treated this way. To have a boy… treat me like this… publicly.”

“Publicly? What do you mean?” he asks, ignoring the urge to deny he’d been faking anything. “You had boyfriends before, no? What about your ex? Mr. Organic Shoes?” Jungkook could never remember the guy's name, remembering how distant the two of you had been at that time.

You shake your head and roll your eyes. “No… no, he never… he never did this. He convinced me I wanted a too-private relationship - you remember, I barely told anyone anything… I barely saw you or Tae... anyone. We barely went out, not for our anniversary, not to events, dinners….. nothing. The rare times we did, he’d never even hold my hand. I went along with it, figured that was his dating style and that he was just that shy, but - surprise, surprise - he goes everywhere with his new actress girlfriend, as proven by me drunkenly Insta-stalking him the other night. I like nights in more than anyone, but it was clear he just wanted me in private. In the breakup, he actually admitted he’d be ashamed to go out with me. It was that messy.”

“What the fuck does that idiot have to be ashamed about?” Jungkook fumed, even more so when you laugh in response.

“This isn’t a fucking joke, ____….. Fuck that guy, honestly,” Jungkook spits out, surveying the area he stood in and considering if it was possible to somehow track the asshole down and beat him up then and there, but with you still latched onto him so tightly…. he wouldn’t leave for anything. “You were always way too good for him, for anyone… I wish I’d told you sooner.”

“Thanks, Koo,” you whisper, hiding your face against his arm for a fraction of a second. He didn’t have the guts to face you at that moment either, knowing he’d kiss you all over just to show you how loudly and publicly you deserved to be loved if that's what you wanted.

“Thanks for today, too. My theory seems to be correct… I wasn't fat-shamed, so ‘yay’ to being treated with basic human decency. But that means you'll likely have to join me again in the future. Congratulations, Koo - you're one-off acting gig turned into a regular role in the _____ Cinematic Universe. What favor do you want in return? What’s your price, Jeon?”

“Oh, I'm never letting you shop without me ever again. See how good my leather jacket is on you? Forget being a boyfriend, my fashion advice is like no other. No... no, this is a Marvel contract now. I'm in this for life... but we agree this isn’t a one-off cameo? Spider-Kook is the star of this universe, alongside you? Just the two of us?"

"What, do you want me to get another guy to pretend to be my boyfriend?"

Fuck no. Jungkook shakes his head.

"I’m still your boyfriend for the day, aren’t I?"

".. What did you have in mind?"

“....I wanna show you something.”

✿

Nagging usually works on Jungkook. Well, nagging was a bit of an exaggeration - he caved in quickly when it came to your requests, seemingly forgetting his sheer signature willpower. But now, even you would admit that you’d been unrelenting… you couldn’t help it. Jungkook had been very vague about ‘what he wanted to show you,' the favor you'd pay in return for his current and future fake boyfriend gigs. But he wouldn't budge, even going so far as to finally resign with a smile and tell you to ‘just shut up and let him lead.’ Jungkook had always been down to do whatever you wanted to do - a true highlight in your friendship - but now, your heart fluttered at him taking the lead…. and even more so when he took you by the hand and excitedly, physically led you to all the places he did… his hand never leaving yours.

First, he took you to a bookstore - nailing the part of the perfect boyfriend with that choice alone, then taking it further when he went on to say he’d treat you to two books - one of your own choosing, the other of his. Something straight out of a romance book, as your day had been thus far.... and Jungkook must've caught on. Of all the books in all the aisles, he had to pick out “Fake It Til You Make It” - the fake dating romance book that inspired all this, only the roles were reversed… In truth, you could’ve easily asked Taehyung to pretend to be your boyfriend and help test out your experiment instead - the two of you were friends as well, and though your relationship was strictly platonic, Tae was an actual actor… But you had to jump at the chance that there might be a teeny, tiny possibility that life imitates fiction and your crush would see you in a new light. And if he hadn’t ended up thinking that dating you might not be too bad of an option… at least you’d get a day of what you’d always longed for. It was a risk. You’d never been able to hide your emotions and already got teary-eyed a number of times, seeing Jungkook act as noble as he’d always been… even better than the perfect boyfriend you’d imagined him to be. It was getting harder and harder to muster up the courage to ask him to accompany you to the wedding as well…

The second place Jungkook led you to was a photo booth studio. He spent way too much money on many different takes and overpriced photo strips, trying different decorations, poses, and photo options. If his arm around your shoulder weren’t holding onto you so firmly, you’d have bolted when he’d insisted on taking a ‘couples version,’ as if the rest weren’t torturously coupley enough. He must have found you out, and it was getting embarrassing.

“I guess…. To back up this lie,” you’d said sheepishly, trying to remind yourself of the situation.

“Sit on my lap and sit still,” he’d instructed, helping you onto his lap and wrapping his arms tightly around you.

Looking off to the side, you couldn’t tell what Jungkook did for the first photo - probably a funny face. For the second, he turned your face to his with his fingers underneath your chin, and you heard the camera click. His features seemed softer, a twinkle present in his eyes… you’d missed the countdown once again, and suddenly Jungkook’s lips were on your cheek, your face held in his hand. He let out a loud mwah you could still feel against your skin after he backed away.

“You kissed my cheek earlier, so…” he quickly mumbled.

A stinging feeling hadn’t left your face. It was hard to say whether it was the lingering feeling of Jungkook’s lips or its effect, the smile you couldn’t stop from appearing on your face.

“Here,” Jungkook whispers, handing you one of the two duplicate photo-strips.

Oh… he was looking at me in that first photo. Why do we look so in love? Holy shit, is he a good actor. Oh hey, how did I not realize he’d also been smiling when he kissed my cheek?

“Put it on the back of your phone,” you hear.

“To back up the lie,” he says, repeating your own words when you finally look at him through your lashes, catching him slip his copy into his wallet as you did into your phone case. Before you were able to process what he’d just done and the photos staring back at you, he wrapped his around your wrist, pulling you out of the tight space.

It was still hard to tell what Jungkook had wanted to show you…. More glimpses of something you could never have, perhaps…

✿

Jungkook was running out of time. He wanted to do so much more for you. He’d imagined taking you out on so many different types of dates and crammed in as many as he could with the time he had left in the day, the possibly pivotal hours that he hoped would awaken something in you.

It was hard not to get carried away, as he always had a tendency to... He’d begun speculating that he actually was in a dream in the bookstore when he found the novel with a story eerily similar to his exact predicament. Ever the believer in fate, Jungkook took it as a sign that he was doing the right thing…. and if all that he was doing couldn’t wake you up, surely the book would... Then at the photobooth… Jungkook could have sworn you’d felt like a real couple then - you’d just been goofing around together, as you always had…. In such a cramped space filled with laughter and love, he’d finally mustered up the courage to kiss you back. He could have sworn he’d seen you smile so wide after that, and that made him happier than the kiss did. Maybe he had a shot....

The third stop was a quick run to the grocery store, which he knew would confuse you most of all. He mindlessly grabbed both of your favorite snacks and drinks in a rush before dashing out, thanking the heavens that he'd made it exactly where he wanted to be, right on time after that.

The park, before sunset.

As expected, the place was packed with couples, families, and friend groups all gathered around and enjoying golden hour. The cool sun shined through marshmallow-like clouds high in the warmly-hued sky. Laughter, music, and joy could be heard all around you - the sounds of happiness, home, and peace.

A perfect spring day.

A perfect opportunity.

Once you'd set up camp and his impromptu picnic, Jungkook leaned back and silently motioned to you to lean against his chest. You do so, cuddling right against him and making Jungkook feel so whole. He'd urged you to read the book he picked out, but you settled on the second one and suggested he give the other a go himself. Jungkook was never a reader, and he would read if you'd asked him to do so sincerely... but he put the book down five pages in. Why would he read a book, especially one that you needed, when he could bask in the beauty of his reality right there in that very moment?

Only thinking this far, Jungkook didn't know what to do after this, but he knew one thing: he’d never felt more alive nor more at peace.

"It's beautiful, Koo."

Jungkook opens his eyes, after closing them briefly as he took in the moment to see you staring up at the orange-pink sky.

"Yeah, it is. You're prettier, though," he says.

"Thanks, boyfriend," you scoff. "Thanks for showing me this... Thank you for the favor. Thank you for everything, Koo. I have to say that again.”

"The sky isn't exactly what I wanted to show you today, _____."

"Oh? Well, what is it?"

“Look at me, _____.”

Startled by his sudden command, you sit up to face him. He couldn’t say what he needed to say without seeing, knowing you believed him… Your eyes always told the truth.

“All of it... All of this... This day was what I wanted to show you. I wanted to show you… the kind of love you deserve. The kind of boyfriend you deserve. Actually, no - this isn’t even half of what you deserve. This is just the shit I could think of on the spot on a Monday afternoon. You deserve so much more, _____. I want to show that to you. I want to… I want you to know that. You don’t need to thank me for anything. The favor wasn’t even a favor. You deserve to have someone do that for you, no questions asked. I said ‘always,’ didn’t I? You deserve to go on dates, a boyfriend who loves you loudly and proudly.”

When your ears perked up, Jungkook knew you were listening. Really listening. But the tears on your face interrupted his train of thought. He needed to do something.

“Here,” he starts, clearing his throat as he stands up. “I LOVE HER, WORLD - I LOVE MY GIRLFRIEND! I AM IN LOVE WITH HER!” Jungkook’s voice echoed loud enough for every surrounding person to turn to him after his very loud declaration towards the sun.

“Jungkook!” you quietly protest, pulling him back down with a shocked smile on your face.

“I don’t know if you want exactly that….” he says, a proud, bashful smile still on his face as he reaches for your hand. “But you deserve it, regardless. Even if it’s not with me…. That’s what I wanted to show you. I wanted to show the love you deserve.”

Jungkook thanked the heavens for having his back once again. He'd imagined confessing a million different ways, but he'd never have imagined for it to go so smoothly and in such a spontaneously romantic setting. For such an important moment, he was thankful he could read you like a book once again. You took in every word, and your eyes began to water. This was it.

“Even if it’s not with you?”

Wait... what?! What did he say?! What did you say?!

"_____?”

Jungkook had been just as startled as you’d been at the calling of your name. It came from a woman who’d been sitting behind you, someone he had noticed earlier who had been clearly listening in on his confession, even smiling widely with the man beside her when he jumped up and declared his love so loudly. She… knew you?

"Rina?” you say, the shock you’d already been in still present on your face. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s our last date night before the wedding! Picnic in the park - a classic, isn't it? You would know, boo! You have a boyfriend! You're doing the same!”

You turn, mouth agape, to face Jungkook. “Oh, we’re….”

“Oh, don’t bother denying it. We all heard loverboy’s declaration - straight out of a 1980s film. I love it! I won't tell your sister if you don't want me too,” she cheers, smiling at Jungkook. “Oh wait, you aren’t even hiding it, are you? Look at your phone case!”

The photos of you in his arms, him kissing your cheek, were displayed right there through your crystal clear phone case on your lap. Behind his now bashful smile, Jungkook felt a thrill at the exposure.

“Oh, don’t be so shy now, you two,” the man speaks now. “You reminded us of ourselves.”

“____! He's just your type! What’s your name, cutie?” the woman, Rina, asks.

“Oh, it’s Jungkook.”

"Jungkook, I'm Rina. I'm friends with _____ and her sister! I assume you're coming to our wedding next week? _____ must have told you about it already. As long as you’re _____’s boyfriend, you’re welcome. Jae & I are going all out and want as many people there as possible!”

Jungkook had no idea what he must've done in his life, or a past one, for the universe to have his back like this. It’s exactly what he’d wanted… except it didn’t come from you. With all eyes on him, his dart to you, relieved and euphoric to see you smile and nod.

“I, I, I’d love to…"

“Great! I guess we’ll see you then, loverboy. Bye, my love,” Rina says, turning back to give you a hug. “I know me and your sister are the ones who taught you not to hear anything a man has to say but…. He’s a good one. Keep him. Listen to Jungkook, huh?”

Jae leads Rina away, the two of them waving goodbye and turning back until they are out of sight. But Jungkook can’t face you yet. He confessed…. didn’t he? He knew you were listening, but it still felt as though his words remained in the air, unfinished. Did you finally get it? Rina did. The whole damn park did. At least he’d gotten what he wanted. One more gig… One more gig to perfect it.

“I guess you’re my date…. loverboy.”

#jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook scenario #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #bts scenarios #bts scenario #jungkook x reader #bts

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wheeboo · 8 months

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rania >_< saw that ur soft hours were open and i cried bc i’ve been thinking abt hao and how he’d give the best head and neck massages ever ..,, wanna cry thinking abt him soothing tension away while watching some show together .,,

mika ml !!! no cuz hao would give the best comforting messages ever :'( anyway i hope lil blurb is good for u <3

there was a certain superpower that your boyfriend had, which was this uncanny ability to encase you in the arms of his comfort just so effortlessly. you don't even have to mention anything about your day for him to notice that particular frown to your lips the moment you walk through the door, to see the dullness in your eyes and the way your body seemed to carry an extra weight when you trudge towards him on the couch.

the sight puts minghao on his extra attentive mode, which is how you found yourself sitting on the couch in front of him in between his legs, feeling the way his hands seem to knead at the knots in your shoulders even before he made contact with your skin. his fingers had an intuitive knowledge of the contours of your body, tracing the well-worn paths of tension as if he had been doing this for a lifetime.

as the noise in the background from the show you were watching together became white noise, minghao's touch was the only thing that mattered in that moment, almost as if he was absorbing the stress away from your body. you let out a contented sigh as his fingers worked its magic, your eyes closing as the worries of the day began to fade away. minghao always had a way of making you feel like the most cherished person in the world, and in moments like these, you couldn't imagine being anywhere else but in his arms.

the sound from your lips makes him faintly smile, prompting in to lean in just slightly to press a few feathery, lingering kisses to the top of your shoulder, trailing them towards the nape of your neck. each kiss was like a whisper of affection in your ears, causing your breath to hitch with every single one, and it sends a delightful shiver down your spine.

"hao..." you sigh out his name.

"hmm?" minghao responds softly, lips brushing your skin as he continued to press those tender kisses along your shoulder and neck.

"that feels good," you mutter, and your words make him smile against your skin.

he presses one last kiss to your neck. "i'm glad, sweetheart."

with the tv show practically fading into insignificance now--you both can replay the episode later--you can feel the knots in your shoulders surrender completely to his expert touch, applying just the right amount of pressure to the right areas, and melting you away into a blissful state of relaxation. his fingers glide over your skin with precision and care, and it makes you feel weightless.

you don't know how much time had passed by the time the touch of his hands cease away, and you find yourself turning around to face him. there's a lazy smile that crosses your face as you lean him to give him a grateful kiss to his lips, hoping that it was enough to emphasise the amount of thank you's you wanted to pour out of your body. and when you pull back, you spot that soft look to his face that you've fallen for more many, many times.

he leans in for another kiss, this time a bit deeper, a bit more passionate. his arms wrap around you, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens just slightly.

"hao," you call against his lips. "the show--"

minghao's lips, still lingering near yours, form a playful smile. "the show can wait."

#mika!#toruro #friends ༊#seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #minghao imagines #minghao fluff #minghao scenarios #minghao x reader #the8 imagines #the8 fluff #the8 scenarios #the8 x reader #soft hours!

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pistolenprinz · 2 months

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RDR2 CHARACTERS AS THE MAJOR ARCANA (PT. 1 OF MANY)

I've been really digging tarot lately, and finding a lot of comfort/joy indulging in the universe's energies, so I figured I would try my hand at assigning each of the main gang (with some exceptions) to one of the major arcana, as well as giving my personal interpretations of how it fits. Note: For this post, I've dipped into my own deck (Raven Rogue's Tarotorial), and will be pulling the imagery-specific elements from them. I will cite things as such "Insert text here [Source Name]." Regardless, the actual applications to the plotlines and characters is my own and is my opinion. To cut down on the length of these posts, I've privately paired up gang members that I either think provide a good foil for one another, or those that I just think pair well in terms of discussion. This section will be copy-pasted across all the posts in this series for sake of clarity.

ARTHUR MORGAN - THE HANGED MAN

The Hanged Man suggests ultimate surrender or suspension in time. Depicting a person hanging upside-down by their foot from the living world tree, the person is hanging by their own free will [Tarotorial; Card Imagery].

There are two choices that Arthur can make in the grand scheme of things: Try to right his wrongs, or lean into them and make them the problems of those around him. His loyalty to the Van der Linde gang is unquestionable, but it is what he chooses to do with that loyalty, and his power as one of the longest-standing members, that is important to his narrative. He can be a force for good, call out the harm his compatriots cause to themselves and those around him. He can also turn an eye to it all, and do solely what he needs to survive. To let his own greed fester and overcome him. Regardless of what ending is chosen, or what route Arthur takes (as that is something up to the player, at the end of the day), he undergoes a metamorphosis of undeniable measure. What it is he sacrifices, be it his morality or himself, it is something that others will not understand (the who seemingly shifting with the path chosen), and it is ultimately a path that he walks alone. A path that, at times, he expresses feels like he is either walking backward, or simply standing on as the world passes him by. He is the only one responsible for his actions, as we all are at the end of the day.

CHARLES SMITH - JUSTICE

The Justice card represents the cause and effects of action. Justice sits in a chair holding scales in their left hand, which implies intuition balancing logic. In their right hand is a double-edged sword, which is a symbol of impartiality [Tarotorial; Card Imagery].

Charles, to me, is such a push and pull character. One that is always seeking to do the right thing, all the while trying to balance the needs of the gang versus what he considers to be moral. He's newer to the gang, which only adds to the internal conflict and propels him toward someone like Arthur, as not only is Arthur a founding member, but he shares a similar moral scale to him usually (certain player actions aside). He, like Arthur, does try to be impartial. Likewise, he tries to see the best in the circumstances at hand, but like all scales, there are times when his morality outweighs that impartiality. The buffalo poachers, interactions with the Wapiti, choosing to side with Arthur in the end as he sees how selfishly motivated Dutch and Micah are, etc. He, like Justice, does sit in the background (at least in comparison to some of the others, on account of him being newer to the group's dynamic), but it is ultimately him who helps set the conclusion in motion. He makes a decision, weighing the pros and cons and trying to minimize the harm done to those he feels close with, and he sees it through.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #charles smith #headcanon #characters as major arcana

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sailorshadzter · 3 months

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@jonsa-valentine "Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights The air is crisp and warm, the sunlight streaming down through the clouds that lazily roll on by, the blue sky the best of backdrops. They have come a long way, he thinks, from days of war and cold, of days of pain and suffering, of loss and death… Now, he cannot recall the last loss they endured, save for good old Agatha that they’d lost a few years after the war had finally ended for good. It was a lucky thing, a wonderful thing, to live in a world such as theirs, a world in which he truly thought might never come to be.

Laughter interrupts his thoughts and he inclines his head, looking down over the battlement, catching sight of the children in the courtyard at play. Two young boys, with heads of dark curls, though one has a touch of red when the sunlight catches it in the right way, laugh and wrestle in the fresh mud, which will certainly have their mother aghast when she finds out. Across the way, their keeper, the ever faithful Brienne, watches helplessly, shaking her head as the golden haired man at her side chuckles fondly. “Get him, Robb!” Another voice calls out over the laughter and he turns his gaze elsewhere, to see the tawny haired boy of a few years older, not his son by blood, but his ward and adopted son Samwell, cheering on the older of the two boys wrestling. It wouldn’t be long, he knows, before that same boy would be joining into the fray.

He sighs, shaking his head as a grin curves on his lips, the sight of his two sons playing reminding him of his own days of youth, long gone now, but certainly not forgotten. Once upon a time he and another boy named Robb would have wrestled in that very same courtyard, dirtying their clothes and upsetting the Lady of Winterfell. Those days, so many years ago now, still sometimes feel like yesterday, when he really thinks about it.

“They’re at it again, aren’t they?” The voice breaks into his thoughts and he turns back, surprised to see the young woman approaching him where he stands. “I thought you were resting,” he admonishes as she comes closer, hand to her swollen abdomen, her face tired but her smile gleaming. She slides into place beside him, leaning on the battlements edge to look over, watching the boys at play, sighing heavily when she takes note of their muddied clothes and disheveled hair.

“I was, but I knew they were up to something.” Call it a mother’s intuition, but she had felt it in her bones that her beloved boys were causing a ruckus of some kind- and certainly, the muddy footprints in the great hall were proof of that. “Besides, I will have plenty of time to rest in a few days time,” considering her time was near, she knew it would not be long before she would be propped up in her bed with a newborn to snuggle. She turns his way as his hand slides into place over her belly, the child within her kicking at the touch, as if the babe knew their father was near. “She is eager to meet her father,” Sansa says with a smile, having been referring to the child as a girl for the last few months. Jon knows better than to argue, she’d been right about both boys, after all.

“And her father is eager to meet her,” he replies back, leaning in so he can press a kiss to her lips. Her hand slides over his, still pressed to her belly, and she feels the overwhelming sense of love she always feels in moments such as this one. To think that just five years before, they had been locked into a war, fighting with dragons and lions and the undead, uncertain if they would live to see these summer days come to pass. The days of cold and unrelenting winter were over and their children would hopefully never know the pain that she and Jon had known in the years leading up to their births.

This new life of theirs was full of everything she had ever wanted in life as a child- love and happiness. Jon provided for her in every way a man could, giving her love, giving her children, giving her safety and warmth. “I’ve lost you…” he murmurs, his voice close to her ear and she jumps, returning from the confines of her mind and back to the present.

“I was only thinking… How very lucky I am…” She says softly, tilting her head, blue eyes finding his Stark gray, eyes she sees in their oldest son each and every day. “Back then… I never thought we would have these moments… Have this life.” Jon grips her hand and he’s sober, for was he not just thinking those very same thoughts?

“I am the lucky one, sweetheart,” he insists, thinking to himself how there could be no man in the world as lucky as he was…. He had a beautiful wife, a woman who brought him love and made his home, well, home. A woman who gave him wonderful sons, who was about to birth him a third child. A woman who loved him beyond words, beyond measure, a woman who had been at his side for more years than he could count now. His life had never been complete until she returned to it, until he had her to protect, to love, to hold.

They both hear it then, the laughter faded to shouts, angry boys replacing their once happy ones. As usual, some disagreement as occurred, as it so often does in a household of rowdy, young sons.“Come, let us get our boys before they tear down the castle,” Jon sighs and she laughs, allowing him to lead her by the hand back inside, to where they will take to the stairs and down to the main floor, where they will find their boys and calm the tears and curb the anger.

Jon can’t help but to feel happier than he’s ever felt before- this was where he was always meant to be. Despite how long the road was, it was worth every moment, every battle, every tear, that it took to get here. He wouldn’t trade this life of theirs for anything or anyone.

It was theirs and it was perfect.

#jonsa valentine 2024 #jonsa valentine #jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jon x sansa #jonsa family #my writing #i wrote this #in case its unclear this is for storge lol

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prof-ramses · 28 days

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This is a very real SM theory

What I've stumbled across this time is, I'll admit, completely batshit on the face of it. BUT, if you follow my flow of logic, I think you'll actually be more convinced than you'd expect

So, what is it that set my theorist mind off? Well, the character we knew we were meeting this episode, Aaron (which is apparently the name of Ross's dad in that model sheet)

We only see him twice (and no, your eyes aren't playing tricks on you, his tattoo changes what arm it's on between scenes) and in those scenes, he's mostly silent and is notably not paying attention to Jaune, despite her talking with their obviously distressed shared friend in the first scene and is separated from Jaune by the cinematography in the second scene.

From what we've seen of Aaron, both in this episode and the TT photos, he isn't very expressive, but he still shows his feelings through movement, or rather, a position in the photos, something absent in his present self.

So, what, if anything, lead to this seeming slight rift between Aaron and Jaune?

Well, we could assume it was something after Ross's birth, but could we narrow it down further? Yes, yes we can, mainly due to the first bomb I'm about to drop on you.

Jaune is a cult spy

Yes, I'm dead fucking serious. Let's look over the way the cult operates, shall we? They carefully monitor anything related to their plans while other members are on stand by, should something go wrong. How does this tie to Jaune?

Simple, she's the one keeping tabs on Lila, Ignacio does live closer, but is so abrasive, he could never get close enough to someone for intimate spying. Jaune on the other hand, as Lila's best friend, could theoretically keep tabs on certain aspects of Lila's life.

The next obvious question is why. Why would Jaune spy on Lila for a cult? Well, she wouldn't. She would, however, keep a close eye on her friend if someone else close to said friend, like say, said friend's husband, expressed concern for her emotional well being.

I know I'm probably losing some of you now, but this is where we get to another insanely counter intuitive yet convincing claim.

Jaune isn't spying on Lila because Lila's husband asked her, she's spying on Lila because she doesn't want Lila to know that-

Jaune had an affair with Lila's husband

I KNOW, I KNOW, I sound like Dale from King of the Hill right now, but I swear to you, this will all click together by the end.

Picture this, Jaune, a heavy drinker, is over at her friend's house one night when Lila's husband starts coming onto her and you know what happens, this goes from a one off event, to a semi-regular ritual for the pair. Some time later, he tells Jaune that he's worried Lila might catch on, and encourages her to carefully pay attention to any sudden mood shifts and.... share them wit ha trusted associate of his.

So, now that I've established the logic of this happening and that it will likely come into focus at some point, but what does this have to do with Aaron's detachment and how could it come into play?

It's not just that Aaron knows Jaune cheated and will reveal it to Lila, no, it's so much worse.

But first, I have to dispel some fanon for a moment, despite how popular the concept is, we have no in or out of series proof that Ross dyes his hair, the only photo of him we see is him and Aaron with Ross looking just as he does at present.

Why do I bring this up, oh my poor unsuspecting friends, it should be clear. If Ross has naturally black hair, that would mean-

Ross matches the genetic profile of Jaune and Skidad's biological child

And there you have it, the dark underbelly at back of the newest instalment in our beloved Halloween series.

And, if by some chance, you still don't believe this theory of Ross and Skid being half-brothers to be at the very least valid, well then, I have something that will blow your fucking mind.......

.........

And I'm not telling you cause it's 'Pril Fools Day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#spooky month #sm Jaune #sm Aaron #sm Ross #sm Lila #sm Skid's dad #sm Skidad #sm Ignacio #sm Skid #sm theory #spooky month theory #sm prediction #spooky month prediction

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violetlunette · 4 months

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I wanted to do something for Lilia's Birthday but well--things happened. As such, I decided to share a paragraph from the "Complete Book of Birthdays" by Clare Gibson, which predicts personalities for that date. That way we can see how well it matches up with Bat dad. Please share whether or not you think it fits Lilia.

Virtues: Objective, congenial, thoughtful

Vices: Unbalanced, gullible, temperamental

“Those born on January 1st are blessed with the characteristics that caused Janus, the roman god of doorways, to be named that patron of the first month; balance, a willingness to look forward and embrace change, and the ability to recall the lessons from pas experiences. This duality is an integral part of these people’s natures. While they are praised for their affable characters and ability to think rationally and clearly, for example—and no where more so than the workplace, where such qualities make them respected co-workers—under certain circumstances they may lose their equilibrium. These people are renown for their determination, capacity for hard work, organizational abilities and strong willpower. They are suited for any career in which their intellectual powers can be stretched, but are especially effective as lawyers and financial analysts.

Their ability to think cooly and indecisively makes January 1st people sought for advice, all the more because their kindness and empathy with others make them loyal friends. Trusted and valued by their peers, they do, however, have a tendency to think the best of people, a quality which makes them popular, but which can lead them to be deceived by those who harbor an agenda. While their trusting natures may thus set them up to be profoundly let down, January 1st people are wise enough to learn from such experiences and to be more cautious in the future in the future. They also have a pronounced intuitive streak and, if this inner voice is heeded, will achieve balance of “head” and “heart” which will stand them in good stead in their personal and professional relationships.”

#reposting because search wasn't working #lilia vanrouge #twst #twisted wonderland #mine #twst lilia #twisted wonderland lilia #twst lilia vanrouge #disney twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #disney twst

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whetstonefires · 1 year

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Thinking about lying in mdzs and how wwx's two primary personal foils also spend significant amounts of time sustaining major lies around people they've got personal relationships with. And how differently that goes.

Because Wei Wuxian, Xue Yang, and Jin Guangyao are very different sorts of liars.

Wei Wuxian maintained his deception about his core for roughly three to five years, the first few of them in close contact with a couple of people who knew him very well. It relied mostly on misdirection and omission. It damaged his relationships and he didn't like it, but he didn't fuck it up either.

Xue Yang spent...a couple of years? Maintaining a lie. And the thing is he's a fairly shit liar, actually. If he'd had to do anything other than 'not tell the truth' to a blind man who voluntarily didn't ask him for so much as a name to call him by, he'd have fucked it up pretty quick.

But the act of deception itself didn't cause him any discomfort at all.

And Jin Guangyao spent most of his life maintaining a ridiculous panoply of lies to absolutely everyone. He of course is an amazing liar, by far the best of the three of them, and this is because he's good at both parts.

His sell is beautiful; he's got just as good a sense as wwx of what other people are thinking so he can adapt his story to it, and does so more consciously and deliberately though also more compulsively. And he's got better discipline over his reactions and (I think) less healthy basic self-respect, so he has more options for how he shapes himself to those expectations. (Whereas Wei Wuxian is more narrowly restricted to strategically emphasizing aspects of his actual self, such as 'proud disobedient prick' or 'impulsive embarrassing flirt.')

But Jin Guangyao's comfort with deception is also top-tier. He probably actually feels more comfortable when he knows he's gotten away with lying to any given person. And his patience with his own lies is infinite, between the excellent self-command, the perfect memory, and what are clearly fantastic multi-tasking skills.

Wei Wuxian likes to lie, but without a pressing reason he also tends to admit it almost immediately so he can laugh about it. When he has to keep it up, he doesn't like it nearly so much--a lie he can't admit to is a trap he's stuck in. And one that isolates him, which he does not enjoy at all.

Of course his Big Lie was largely for Jiang Cheng's sake; judging by how 'Mo Xuanyu' goes he wouldn't have been able to maintain it half so well for his own.

Xue Yang doesn't seem to feel any of that discomfort, he just also doesn't have enough interest in other people's thoughts to tell especially believable lies; he can't tailor his story to his audience.

He lies like it's a magic trick, a special move; you can just open your mouth and say whatever you want, isn't that strange? Isn't that funny? People will do things that are actually bad for them because you gave them untrue information!

And it reliably pisses people off, especially when they know you're lying but you won't admit it! You win no matter what! Haha!

There are a lot of other elements to being good at lying other than 'a convincing sell' and 'keeping up the front,' of course. Lying is complicated. So many moving pieces that all feed into one another. There's having the nerve to lie to people's faces. There's thinking on your feet enough to make up a lie on the spot at all, regardless of whether it's plausible. There's not having any obvious tics that give you away. There's the ego.

All three of them can manage all of these, though. The main variation across the set crops up around the aspects of lying that deal with 1) self-control (obvious spectrum there) and 2) empathy.

Xue Yang has none. He's a human disaster with very limited theory of mind and no self-regulation to speak of; naturally straightforward and almost entirely without kind impulses.

Wei Wuxian has a full complement--his social intuition is actually fantastic, and while he's not reliably nice he is easily moved to compassion. This latter is bad for his lying skills.

(His self-control ranges from reasonably good to fantastic, when he bothers, but his first instinct is not to bother.)

Jin Guangyao's cognitive empathy is also very strong; he can generally determine what someone wants to hear, and say that. Be that. But he seems to be almost wholly free of the instinct to feel bad about tricking people, even people he likes. Is that inherent or habituated? Idk probably both.

So Jin Guangyao is far and away the best liar of the three of them, because he maxes out all the necessary traits.

But then when it comes down to it. Wei Wuxian and Xue Yang, when they're rumbled or the lie isn't useful anymore, they can let it go. When Lan Wangji finally calls Wei Wuxian by name he drops Mo Xuanyu on the spot with no ceremony; when Wei Wuxian calls out Xue Yang's impersonation of Xiao Xingchen, he doesn't keep pushing it, he just laughs.

Jin Guangyao can't. He's unmasked violently and repeatedly, and he drops any story that isn't sustainable or useful anymore, but he always tries again. He's such a fantastic liar that reverting to honesty just. Isn't an option available to him.

#hoc est meum #mdzs #wei wuxian #xue yang #jin guangyao #meta #lying

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thydungeongal · 24 days

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What are like general approaches to "social combat" thing, especially pvp?

I have an intuitive idea of it depending on attitude (measured numerically) and resilience that is derived from mental attributes (so being smart means seeing through bullshit and being charismatic means not being used to someone disagreeing with you, something like that), with rolls being made to change attitude by 1 and attitude and resilience contributing to difficulty level.

But I remember VTNL and I know that trying to make a thing without reading all of the already written things results in shit so.

(What I have in mind is basically an adventure game but with some simple numerical expression of affinity of factions and characters, including PCs, so like, are there any games that have simple mechanics for this? I browsed your posts and I will check Monsterhearts, but it's a PbtA game so of course it all depends on moves and that's not exactly applicable)

P.S.: honestly I am thinking about just making a scale and the rest is just "GM shall be able to figure it out"

Most games simply throw their hands up when it comes to PvP uses of social skills and just don't go with it, because it's assumed that social skills are best used to model PCs trying to manipulate NPCs, because forcing PCs to act a certain way limits player agency.

That is not to say it can't be done, and to my mind Monsterhearts does it the best, but those are not the only approaches.

Ultimately what Monsterhearts relies on is a social currency, called strings, that characters can hold on each other. Every string your character has represents some type of emotional leverage they have over another person. A lot of the moves in the game touch upon the string economy, and there are specific moves that can be activated by simply spending strings. Upon spending a string on a character you give the character's player a choice of either doing it and getting to mark 1 XP for their character or having to make a move (I honestly can't remember its name rn, but the Monsterhearts equivalent of Act Under Fire) if the character chooses to not to do it. You could theoretically spend 2 strings to do both.

Now, that's not going to work in a normal party-based adventure game: it works in Monsterhearts' case because it is not a cooperative game. Once the player characters are assumed to be, roughly, on the same side, being able to give XP to other player characters for simply doing what you say is no longer a meaningful choice. Nor do you want to fuck with your fellow players' characters cause it's a cooperative game.

I do think there is a use case for "my character has a high Charisma so by all means my character should be able to convince your character to go along with their plan," but there may not be a need for a very deep system unless you see it as an integral part of your game. Having said that, I do see potential for a rule like "if two characters can't resolve an argument, the players can agree to settle the situation as an opposed Charisma check. The terms need to be agreed upon before any rolls are made and once the check is resolved the result stands." And then you can add graded results like making compromises on ties and even build a more granular, blow by blow system.

The most "combat-like" social combat system I can think of is Burning Wheel's duel of wits. It's a lot. It's like AD&D 1e Psionic combat. It rules. Anyway, Forbidden Lands also has a negotiation system which I haven't delved too deep into but I've heard good things about.

And then, finally, there's the Fate approach: social conflict is just like physical conflict but with social skills and dealing mental damage and inflicting social consequences. It's not my favorite approach but it's out there!

Anyway sorry this was kind of rambling. I'm very tired. At least I'm feeling kinda cute rn.

#thydungeongal answers

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ourgoodfriendjonathan · 1 year

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Results of the Big Dracula Daily Fandom Questionnaire

Part 2 of 2: Favourites

(Part 1)

I analysed the results and will post them in two parts, because it is a bit much. If you have any questions, let me know.

Note: the layout isn't perfect and the language isn't scientific.

Also note: this post contains major spoilers.

Time for the second tournament between Dracula characters this year: who is everyone’s favourite? Here is the final (average) ranking, where 1 would be first place and 10 would be last place:

Mina (2.2)

Jonathan (2.6)

Quincey (4.4)

Lucy (4.6)

Jack (5.1)

Van Helsing (5.5)

Arthur (6.4)

Renfield (6.6)

Dracula (6.9)

Captain of the Demeter (7.1)

It may come as a shock that the captain was ranked below Dracula, but keep in mind that I asked you your favourite character and not, for example, favourite person to hang out with or to go sailing with. The answers would be wildly different if that were the question. Remember also: Arthur is an amateur fitter. Opportunities for a next questionnaire!

In this table you can see the amounts of votes per ranking per character. For example, the number “215” next to Mina’s name and under the number one means Mina was ranked number one 215 times.

What is interesting to note is that in this table you can see that the captain was mostly ranked in eight or ninth place, but Dracula was placed mostly ninth or tenth. So if we look at this, instead of at the average ranking, I would say we like the captain better than Dracula.

As you can see in the table as well, the results weren’t entirely unonymous. Especially Jack and Van Helsing are ranked all over the place, ranging from third place to seventh.

The most important take-away here is how much we love Mina and Jonathan. We place Jonathan in the top three 620 times (28% of all 1-3 votes), and Mina 560 times (26% of all 1-3 votes). (See how I found a way to make Jonathan sound slightly better there? I may not be all objective.)

A few of you misunderstood the assignment, and ranked 10 as highest and 1 as lowest. I think I managed to filter most of these out and reversed those rankings. Usually it was clear from other answers that the participant had made a mistake. They would have, for example, expressed fondness for Mina in all questions, and then went on to rank her in tenth place. I knew, intuitively, this was a mistake.

We loved receiving mail from our good friend Jonathan and it shows: 45% of us liked his “voice” best. Mina comes in second (27%) and Jack third (13%). The captain of the Demeter’s log scored well too with 7%, and 4% of you kept a soft spot for the flowery journalism of the anonymous correspondent. Lucy received another 4% of the votes, but only seven people loved Art’s and Quincey’s writing the best.

When I made the quiz, Van Helsing hadn’t made any entries yet. Future research could find out what the results would be now, after we read everything.

The hardest results to analyse were the ones for the question about ships. I thought I would be able to find all combinations by making the question a multiple choice grid, but it turns out it’s still vague.

Do with these results what you like, I declare it a puddle.

In my next questionnaire I will write out all of the combinations you made (including all the polycule variants), so that you can choose and mix to your heart’s desire. Hopefully the results of that will be more conclusive.

The last four questions asked to describe/name a moment that made you feel something. There were four categories: scared, sad, happy, and moments that made you laugh. I grouped the results into broader categories so I could rank how often they were named.

The category names make sense to me, but perhaps not to everyone. I’ll try to explain the ones I think might cause confusion.

Overall (the results of all categories piled together) we were most moved by everything that happened to Lucy. Her slow decline, Dracula’s last attack of September 17 and her eventual death were mentioned by 14% of you. Counting everything else surrounding her too, 24% of the answers named something related to Lucy's story, almost all of it sad.

Second most mentioned was the wedding. If we group the news of Jonathan surviving, him and Mina reuniting and the wedding together, we get 13% of the answers that contained one or more of these moments as a source of happiness.

Special shoutout to the 3% of you who named Quincey shooting the bat as something that made you laugh.

Please note that most of the results of the questionnaire came in before the end of the book (between October 29 and 31). Events that happened after October 31 are therefore underrepresented in the replies.

My next questionnaire will contain a list of everything mentioned, and I will make participants pick their favourites. This list will include events that happened after October 31.

Below are the results for each category:

12% of the answers for this question named the log of the Demeter as a cause of fright, followed closely by the attack on Mina on October 3 (11%) and the attack on Lucy on September 17 (10%).

The group “Trapped” (6%), which includes general moments in the first two months (May and June) when Jonathan felt especially in the toils in castle Dracula.

“Escape” (5%) is specifically Jonathan’s last entry of June where he told us he was going to walk the ledge in an effort to escape the castle (“Good-bye, all! Mina!”).

The “July silence” (7%) is the fact that we didn’t get any letters from him for a long time after this, and we didn’t know whether he lived or died.

“Lucy’s mum” (4%) covers the moments surrounding the death of Mrs Westenra, like the fact that Lucy was alone with her body or that she died smack on top of her.

“Mina left behind” (3%) are the events of October 2 and 3 when Mina was excluded and this led to her being at risk.

29% of you mentioned Lucy’s death as a cause of sadness. Renfield’s death was second with 9% of mentions, and the groups “attack on Lucy”, “unopened by her” and “Lucy’s decline” got 6% of mentions each. The others all got mentioned 4% or less.

“Lucy’s decline” (6%) contains everything from the first attack of Dracula (when she was sleepwalking) until the moment she eventually died, like the ups and downs of her 'mystery disease', or how futile healing her seemed.

“Unopened by her” (6%) was the letter Mina sent Lucy on the day of Dracula’s last attack, which Lucy would never be able to read.

“Suitors mourning” (3%) is about Arthur, Quincey and Jack mourning for Lucy after her death or after killing her as a vampire.

“Jonathan suffering” (2%) contained several moments of Jonathan having a generally bad time, like his reaction to Mina being attacked or his speech to Van Helsing (“Have you felt the Vampire’s lips” etc.).

The happy-category was often answered with more general things like the love these characters have for each other (3%).

“Jonmina” (6%) means the relationship between Jonathan and Mina,

By “Assembly” (5%) I mean the day all the characters met each other and combined their diaries.

In the group “Harker-Helsing” (3%) fell mostly events of the day Van Helsing met the Harkers, for example Mina pranking Van Helsing or Jonathan saying he loved hearing him praise Mina.

As touched on before, “Bat” (15%) refers to the moment Quincey got up from a meeting to shoot a bat sitting in the windowsill.

“VH talks” (7%) groups the weird things Van Helsing said or, more generally, his way of talking, though I made separate groups for mentions of his King Laugh-speech (4%) and the Corn-speech (3%).

“Mirror yeet” (4%) is my name for the debacle surrounding Dracula and Jonathan’s shaving mirror (“A foul bauble of vanity!”),

“Maid” (3%) refers to the fact that Dracula did all the cooking and cleaning in Castle Dracula.

Let me know if any other categories need explaining, I’ll be happy to talk about this more!

In general, we ranked the entirety of the Dracula Daily phenomenon with an average score of 6.7 out of 7. Over 95% of the participants gave it at least a 6 out of 7.

This concludes my analysis of the results on the Big Dracula Daily Fandom Questionnaire.

As said before, I made another, even bigger, questionnaire, because I have lots and lots of other questions. I think they'll be fun to answer, as they aren't very scientific (wet rat Jack the certified scientist would no doubt frown upon it).

During all of this analysing I felt a bit like Jack sitting begrudgingly in the graveyard back in September, in that I kept grumbling profanities and "Why am I doing this" and immediately after: "I'm going to do this again tomorrow."

----------------------------------------------------------

Please consider filling in my long follow-up questionnaire. I think it'll take about 15 minutes:

#dracula daily #the big dracula daily questionnaire #btw i may have made an error in the percentages of the favourite moments but I don't feel like changing it #the overall gist of this still very much stands

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basedkikuenjoyer · 6 months

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Memento Moria

Kiiiii-shi-shi-shi! Happy Halloween! Last time we took the whole month for Victoria Cindry with our #Spooky Sidestory. That was fun, if you don't know Cindry always borrowed from a famous ghost story about a spirit named Okiku. Which means you maybe need to think a little more in hindsight about her being an actress whose story relies on a theme of toxic obligation. We touched on Moria a bit, how he serves as a warning to what lies ahead. But I always wanted to give him his due. He's such a good seed for the yonko; baiting the idea of separating the crew, the zombies as an analogue for infighting, his shadow keeping you from even touching him. How many people did he beat without lifting a finger? This becomes a huge motif by Totland & Wano.

Moria is a great villain, though I'll never fault a younger fan for not quite getting it yet. Other characters share this idea of their dreams dashed by the buzzsaw of the New World, but Moria is the one who really embodies it. He's not just someone who experienced loss, he's defined by it. I mean this in the nicest way possible, you won't truly relate to Moria unless you've had some kind of tangible past success. Laurels to rest on long enough you know how dangerous that can be. I love this "whiteout" panel, how his face looks so bat-like. If you need a refresher on why this pertains to Kiku:

Kiku's introduction already leans on drawing from One Piece's history, subtly baiting key associations. Bat-Man being one of the first Gifters is certainly a choice, and his extremely shallotesque shape reinforces the reference. For those who don't know, Moria's animal motif isn't a gecko. It's a bat, Gecko Moria. Komori=bat. That in Kiku's intro is worth pointing out alone, much moreso when we get an update on Moria paired with a reflection (Catarina) of what we just highlighted out of the star of the first act. Those two are solid thematically, now add the Ringo ripple.

Does it have to mean anything? No, but theoretically if we wanted to have one of the Akazaya involved somehow there's a certain logic to Kiku the Ringo native being the intuitive choice. It's just like the Shanks/Buggy angle. We have someone so oddly worldly in Wano and yet again a known thread is set up it can easily run through her. I might actually want to see a flashback of Kiku & Moria having a chance encounter over Shanks. If only because I can guess how Shanks would go. You think Moria might make a play at recruiting the demonic prodigy of the Akazaya? Say what you will about his necromancy, which I'd imagine Kiku would abhor, I don't see Moria being the type to care about the trans aspect. Being earnestly good about it like Luffy seems reasonable.

Moria though, just as a villain he's grown on me. Or really I've grown, lost groups of people I once felt brought out the best in me. Lazily replaced them with shadows, spun my wheels in a position that sounded like a good enough spot to be in. I get Moria, he's kinda over it but hasn't fully given up. Just taking a lazier, safer approach because he's scared of what lies ahead. Shadows Asgard and taking in 1000 shadows is a big example of growing on me. Makes so much more sense when you see how Kaido/Wano builds off of the concept. Moria has the power to be a top contender, he doesn't have the will to control it. Shadow Asgard, false divinity.

Back then, even the Straw Hats see it right away. Luffy turns to the crew and tells them to take care of the rest cause he's gonna get reckless. I love the parallel of Luffy having to take on a taste of Moria's true power and Zoro well, that time when nothing happened. Kuma's getting plenty of focus now but we'll wait until the flashback ends to do him proper. Keeping that strong and famous crew he could count on over more zombie mooks won the day. That under the threat of daybreak is good shit.

#one piece #gecko moria #spooky sidestory #post-wano musings

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twilightmalachite · 6 months

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Raison d’être - The Nameless Girl 10

Author: Akira

Characters: Shu, Mika

Translator: Mika Enstars

"…Tell me, what on earth did you see, Kagehira?"

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Winter

Location: Paris Townscape

A couple hours later, at the town nearest to the forest “MADEMOISELLE”’s grave’s at…

Mika: ……

…………

Shu: —Kagehira!!

Mika: Nnah? Huh, wha? Oshi-san…?

Shu: Goodness, Kagehira, what on earth are you doing? Think of the season, you’ll freeze to death walking around so lightly dressed this late at night!

Mika: Ahha~, like the “Little Match Girl”~

Shu: Hah?

Mika: There’s no way Oshi-san would be way out here… Guess I’m so cold I’m startin’ t’see things or somethin’?

Shu: Fool! Can’t you tell the difference between a false hallucination and the real thing? How can you call yourself an artist with an aesthetic eye of that degree!

Mika: I never really called myself one though~…? I just go along with what Oshi-san says~…!

Hm, huh? Yer seriously the real Oshi-san?

Shu: There’s no fake of me. You’ve grown quite a big deal, but I can’t yet say you’re equivocal to me, huh?

No, your solitary and unique worldview is exactly what makes you an artist.

Even as equals, you and I would draw out different pictures of the world. Rather, don’t you think that’s exactly what makes it so meaningful?

Mika: Nnah~… Ahh, I feel so lost. Ya really are the real Oshi-san, aren’tcha?

Shu: So noisy. Here, at least put this jacket on.

Mika: Mgmph.

Nnah~… Yer hands are so warm, Oshi-san.

Yer alive, arent’cha, ya really are the real Oshi-san! ♪

Shu: You’ve gotten way too cold. You’re just like a doll.

Goodness gracious. Take better care of yourself. I’m always telling you this.

By hurting and dirtying yourself, you also hurt and dirty those who love you, you know.

Mika: Nnah~… Then, I guess I can’t be too reckless.

‘Cause that means if I get dirty, then the beautiful Oshi-san will get dirty too.

Shu: That’s embarrassing for me to agree to, so I’ll pay no attention to it. However, what are you doing in a place like this?

Well, I can more or less guess why. Rather, that is how I was able to locate you.

You most likely are here to unearth “MADEMOISELLE”-san’s grave, weren’t you. You can decipher the location of this mysterious person through the diary entries.

Mika: Ahaha, if I’m able t’decipher it, Oshi-san most definitely can too.

Shu: But of course. Who do you think I am? I’m your mentor!

Mika: Ah-huh, that’s why I call Oshi-san “Oshi-san”!

Shu: I mean, would else would the reason be? What, some pet name spun off of my name “Shu”?

More importantly. …Tell me, what on earth did you see, Kagehira?

Mika: Nnah~…?

Shu: Your complexion is terrible. I don’t think you, who has an affinity for the grotesque, would be this affected at the sight of a decomposing corpse.

Mika: The corpse—

There was no corpse of “MADEMOISELLE”-san.

Shu: Hm?

Mika: There was a coffin fer her. And a diary, too. But…

Inside the coffin was a life-size doll of a beautiful girl, who looked the same as the pictures inside the diary.

Shu: ……

Mika: It seriously looked like a human… I got scared, I felt “MADEMOISELLE”-san came right outta the diaries, I didn’t know what was real an’ what was fiction anymore.

I was walkin’ around all confused, and before I knew it, I was here.

Shu: I see.

A “MADEMOISELLE” doll, huh… Then, I believe I understand most of what’s happening.

Mika: Eh, fer real?

As expected of Oshi-san! Yer worth all the praise, it was all jus’ a big mess t’me!

Shu: You have great intuition, but you’re an idiot. You’re not well-suited to thinking.

Those sorts of things are my job, got it? Here, don’t keep straining your dim-witted brain over what you can’t understand and stand on up.

There are no trains or buses running at this hour, so we’ll be walking home.

Much like when we first met.

Shu: That time, when I had gotten separated from Ryuu~-kun and got lost, you took me by the hand and showed me the way, like a fairy from a fairy tale.

It’s thanks to you that I was able to return back to the right path.

This time, it’s my turn.

Mika: Right… B-But, Oshi-san…

Ya said ya understand most of what’s happenin’… So what’s it all mean, then?

Shu: You can tell you’re not smart by the way you listen. As I always am telling you, you must organize your thoughts a little more before you speak.

Well, I suppose that is just also just a difference between our styles. I carefully and logically design my works from scratch, while you intuitively extract your desired image from chaos.

Mika: So, what is this “truth”?

If yer Grandfather actually was havin’ an affair? Who this “MADEMOISELLE” person is? Why she never aged?

Why is someone so strange in the diary? If she were fictional, then why was there a “MADEMOISELLE” doll in the coffin?

Ah, it’s one question after another, they won’t stop! I wanna know the answer!

Shu: Even I don’t know that. I’m merely guessing, no, imagining.

This story of Grandfather’s half a lifetime is full of mysteries.

And, it doesn’t matter what the “truth” really is anymore. The story I’ve imagined is more beautiful than reality.

All that’s left for me to do is reproduce this beautiful story l, this ideal, I wove within my mind into reality, using my own two hands.

Because, I am an artist.

Shu: Now, let us get to work, Kagehira. Let’s fire up the atelier and oil the spindles.

This farce has solidified us a concept for our work to submit to the Funeral Contest!

[ ☆ ]

← prev | story directory | next →

#raison d’être #raison d'etre #shu itsuki #mika kagehira #event #translation

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callsign-cree · 2 years

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pregnancy | mickey “fanboy” garcia (h.c)

finding out you were pregnant was the best thing for you and mick. just finishing up the mission, everyone coming back safe and mick was home. it was a shock at first, being pregnant with your first child. but mickey was determined to be there, every step of the way.

he would not let you do anything. laundry? nope. grocery shopping? absolutely not. if he caught you doing anything that wasn’t resting or going to the washroom, he would have something to say.

“hey honey, im just going to go-“

“i got it, you should go rest.”

“mick, ive been sitting in that bed and around the house for days. i think i’ll be fine going to the store.”

“the store? i can drive you!”

there are some things you have gotten him to lighten up on, especially with going places. he treated you like an antique artifact that could break at any moment. which was half true.

pregnancy cravings were part of that. they were mostly similar foods you would eat, but the weird cravings always came at night. in the middle of the night. you would awake in a sweat, having the little thing pushing on your bladder. then after the washroom you would wake your husband with requests.

“hey honey, im really craving pickles and peanut butter…”

“baby…what?”

“don’t look at me like that!”

“no, baby its fine. just uh…i think were out of pickles.”

“i am going to scream if i don’t get those pickles. and its going to be your body that phoenix finds on her doorstep-“

“OKAY, i’ll go get your pickles.”

besides the pregnancy cravings, mick has tried everything in his power to learn the basics of being a father. he would read parenting books everyday, making you quiz him on certain situations.

"alright...hit me!"

"when the baby is crying- mickey, you do know that the real thing is far more easier than memorizing this book right?"

"honey, this is for the good of both of us! so if one thing doesn't work i'll at least know another cause- now, hit me!"

"garcia, i will hit you with this book-"

as months continued and soon you were struggling to get up due to the belly in your way. mickey grew to love your bump. absolutely love it.

"that's my baby girl in there-"

"and what if it's a boy?"

"it is a girl, father's intuition."

"they're not even here yet, meaning technically, youre not a father ."

"but i can feel it, in my gut."

mickey would always rub your belly and testing out new things he could do with it. one of them being balancing items on top of it.

"alright, keep it steady."

"i don't think this amount of pop cans are good for you, mick."

"all in the name of science-"

when it got to the last trimester, mickey was nervous, more nervous than you and you were the one going to give birth!

"honey!"

"what? what is it? are you hurt? is the baby coming? do we need to go to the hospital-"

"mickey! i am completely fine, im just craving some ice cream."

with the gruelling and interesting nine months, the day finally came. your water had broke and soon after, your baby was born. mickey was holding the baby swaddled in a blanket and watched voer you as you rested.

"a father's intuition..." mickey looks down at the sleeping baby girl in his arms.

#top gun maverick #top gun #mickey fanboy garcia #mickey garcia #fanboy garcia headcanons #mickey garcia headcanons #fluff #pregnancy #pregnancy headcanons

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klein-babylon · 1 month

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Had strangest dream last night now this is the first time I’ve actually given birth to a baby in my dream (note that this dream was one of those ones that felt so real) cuz usually I get pregnant and then the dream ends, or I get an abortion, or I have a miscarriage. Anyways important to note that I don’t think I will have children , I am not maternal, but also I’m 20. Oh but also I never played mums and dads and never had a baby doll and I think that counts for something.

Anyways I had the baby.. so hold on. This was back in October when I was in Albania going to Italy. And in real life during that time I was like fuck I think I’m pregnant with Sandri’s child fjdjskxkkx. I had to pray every morning and night that I wasn’t. I wasn’t .. thank god

But in the dream I was pregnant but it wasn’t with him, it was a guy that was a hybrid of everyone I’ve ever slept with so he was sooo hot ughhhh and I was lowkey gagged for him but then I was like. You’ve all made me feel so hollow and worthless. So this guy was riding a bike on a highway and I rear ended him with my car and took off (he died). Then I gave birth to this baby and I was like fuck hahahah why did I keep this. It was a boy , and I know if I ever have a child it will be a boy first. And so in the dream I (my subconscious) was like talking to my conscious self like see??? Trust your intuition babes you know you’re gonna have a. Boy

And then I was too busy trying to find the father of my baby I accidentally let him starve, he wouldn’t latch on to me, typical, my parents were also there and they were like I can’t believe you just gave birth. I guess we’re gonna have to care for it now. I’m like no don’t worry I’ll handle it but dad lowkey saved the baby by feeding him and taking care of him. I was like thank you dad I don’t want you to worry I just want you and mum to retire and travel and be happy… and then the baby turned into a Weimaraner puppy and then finally the maternal instincts kicked in for me and I was like awwww omg this baby is mine 🩷 and then let him sleep outside with Herbert my dog and they looked identical cuz Herbert’s a weim. Anyways. Didn’t name him or anything. Also side note in the dream Sandri kept trying to get me on this Balkan Muslim dating game show and he kept saying JUST WEAR THE HIJAB!!!! So I did but I wore a mini skirt and heels as well and I caused such a scandal in Albania hahhahaha but randomly Sandri was like my sidekick and best friend the whole dream he’s like don’t worry Maiya I’ll take care of your boy even though he’s not mine, he’s part of you and that’s enough for me

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xknivesandpensx · 5 months

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Like Pieces of a Puzzle

Chapter 14

Summary: What if Harry wasn't the only extra student called upon to participate in the Triwizard Tournament? Far from the most popular candidate, Draco not only has to take on the trials but also deal with his unexpected feelings for Hermione. Will he be able to face the challenges as well as follow his heart? Chapter length will vary. I'll be referencing both the books and movie versions. Some things from what I've previously written will be mentioned, all of which you can find here. And for those who asked to be tagged: @dayane245love

Draco hardly heard a word Ludo Bagman said, not truly able to get himself to care. The classroom was filled with not only the champions but their respective headmasters and a woman he never met before, who for the moment hovered in the background. Unfortunately, his mind kept drifting back to Potions, to Hermione.

What if Pansy or another Slytherin caught him grab Hermione’s hand? Sure, he automatically reached out in regards to the venom she almost touched, but any guesses could turn into wild accusations. Which he really didn’t need. He supposed acting like nothing happened would be the best course of action to take. And he knew almost confessing his feelings held the potential to haunt him for days, if not longer.

When Draco started paying attention again, Bagman mentioned taking a few photos, an aspect he didn’t mind, (even if he was asked to remove his POTTER STINKS badge). Fleur sat on a chair in the middle, situating herself comfortably. Her golden blonde hair fell down the length of her back, tied into a neat ponytail. Both Cedric and Viktor were told to stand directly behind, their height aiding them, while both Harry and Draco took either end.

The camera went off a total of three times before Rita introduced herself. “Of course, I’m sure you all know I work for the Daily Prophet. But what the people are interested in is the five of you. What makes this group set apart from the rest, the reasons behind your bold choices to enter such a dangerous competition.”

Draco tried not to roll his eyes at her fairly intuitive speech. Her flashy appearance spoke volumes, hair set in elaborate curls, a pair of jeweled glasses studded in rhinestones, crimson painted nails, red lips, and a flashy shade of green making up her outfit.

She circled the group as she went on. “I say we get these interviews started. Who’s up for sharing?” No one made a sound in response, leading Rita to make the choice herself. “Of course, we should start with the youngest.”

Now Draco really did roll his eyes as she pulled Harry from the room. Rita made it very obvious who she wanted to talk to first.

He spent a good ten minutes aimlessly lost in thought, mostly thinking he had much better things to be doing, before he bothered to speak to anyone. “I bet she’s getting the full backstory of the famous Boy Who Lived.” Draco directed his nonchalant set of words at Viktor, for Fleur and Cedric started a conversation of their own.

“From what I can tell Harry is a decent person.” At least from what he gathered during their minor interactions. “I have to say, you said some unfavorable things the night we were chosen. Unlike many at Durmstrang, I disagree.”

Draco almost forgot he called Hermione a Mudblood in front of them and insulted Ron too. Then proceeded to get into a fight – not the greatest way to show the solidarity Dumbledore expected of them, though he hardly took his opinions into consideration.

“Given Karkaroff doesn’t allow Muggle-born students, I’m surprised you think otherwise.” It caught him off-guard. Maybe in a way, it confused him more than anything else.

“His beliefs don’t reflect my own,” Viktor simply answered, maintaining his usual stoic state. “I’ve heard one of Hogwarts best students is in your year and she is Muggle-born.”

Obviously, he meant Hermione. Just alluding to her name caused him to feel a slight tautness along his muscles. Suddenly, Draco wished he hadn’t said anything at all. It brought her back to the forefront of his mind. Her picture a clear image in his head.

Lucius announced very early on about what separated them from other wizards. Even when the Chamber of Secrets opened and students started getting petrified, he favored the results. Draco, now upon reflection, wondered how he wished the same fate upon Hermione.

“Ah yes, Granger. She’s hardly worth mentioning. More of a stuck-up, know-it-all than anything else really,” he replied, using his irritation in the form of a slight.

“I do not think it wise to insult one of Harry’s friends.” Viktor tried not to judge the younger competitors too harshly. Draco seemed very much like Igor, their similarities apparent. “It does nothing but makes you out to be the sort who cares little for the opinions of others. Especially when they don’t meet your own.”

“He pretty much hit the mark, hasn’t he?” Harry, thanks to Dumbledore’s interruption, managed to get away from Rita and the small broom cupboard she squeezed them into. “She asked for you next. I’m sure you’ll have loads to tell her.”

Draco sneered yet otherwise said nothing in reply. He had quite enough of him for one day and thought sharing the extra placement in the tournament was a bit unfair. Any attention he gained became shadowed by Harry.

He walked to the other side of the room and took the offered chair.

“Unfortunately, Dumbledore has restricted us to the classroom. A Quick-Quotes Quill is all right? Excellent.” Rita didn’t even pause for a response, ready to jump right in. “Now tell me, how does it feel to be competing against the famous Harry Potter? Nervous?

Draco bit back the urge to complain. He saw his chance to appear more put together, to make a good impression and maybe even get a few jabs at Harry. A smugness filled his expression. “Hardly. He can barely handle the most basic spells. He prefers to boast more than anything else.”

“Am I sensing a bit of a rivalry between you two?” Rita asked, taking the opportunity to gain more information. “What was he like when you met him? Still traumatized by the death of his parents?”

He paused for a moment, watching the quill scribble away. “Significantly rude, actually. Practically snubbed my offer of friendship. A missed opportunity on his part. But isn’t this interview supposed to be about me? Not that I couldn’t offer many details involving Potter’s true personality and how he isn’t as everyone perceives him.”

“Quite right. We’ll circle back.” She nodded to her quill, which flipped to a new page. “Now your family is rather tradition based, are they not? Very proud people. Is it possible their high expectations encouraged you to enter?”

“I didn’t put my name in,” Draco automatically replied. “Whoever did has yet to be found. I consider it about time someone recognized my abilities. I may fare better than those older than me considering my lineage.”

“Very sure of yourself, I see.” Rita took a second to look him over. “Speaking of, the Malfoy’s are closely linked to You-Know-Who, not only through your father, but through relatives as well. Just between us, and my many readers, do you support their cause?”

His brows furrowed at the question. It thew him off the same as when Moody brought Voldemort into their conversation. He cleared his throat, however, trying to hide his annoyance. If she aimed to make him look bad, he wouldn’t be surprised. Narcissa never said anything good in relation to her articles, though Lucius favored any snippets that turned a negative light on Dumbledore.

“He was acquitted of any crime.” Draco drew his gaze towards the group of professors, none were paying him any mind, too absorbed in rehashing the same complaints. “As a reporter, you should know all about it.”

He dodged answering the actual question she placed. Draco spent his whole childhood under a general feeling of regret that Voldemort never succeeded in his goals. He was prudently reminded not to express such sentiments outside of close friends and family. He almost pictured the Dark Lord as a story, despite his obvious realness. After all, he vanished soon after his first birthday. In a way, Draco sustained his ideals because he knew little else, but the support became expected and therefore not once did he consider believing differently.

“And how does it feel to be the son of a Death Eater? Or former Death Eater, as they say. Such an immense weight for someone so young to bear,” Rita added, putting on an air of curiosity.

“How does this hold any importance?” Draco asked. He knew there were wizards out their who’d love to shine a light on his families ties with Voldemort yet he didn’t expect her to go anywhere near the subject.

His cagey retort caused a hum of interest to follow, and Rita eagerly leaned a little closer so she could properly hear whatever else he may give away. “Has it caused a lot of friction between Harry and yourself given a relative of yours aided in the murder of his parents?”

Obviously, she meant Sirius Black. But to bring up Lily and James? Well, he supposed he hadn’t considered it. Her sheer lack of tact and intent to back him into a corner gave Draco the impression he better end things now before he said anything else Rita could use against the Malfoy reputation.

“I think I’m finished here. Wait until my father hears how you conduct interviews.” He rose from the seat, unable to move more than a step after her hand shot out and grabbed hold of his left arm. The chair skid on the wooden floor from his sudden halt.

Rita looked up at him, presenting a (fake) smile full of earnest concern. “So defensive. You wouldn’t happen to be hiding something?”

Draco yanked free, sending a glower in her direction. “You won’t find the Dark Mark if that’s what you’re hoping for.” Realizing he might’ve spoken too loudly, a silent, undetectable flare of panic stretched between his lungs. Only once he reassured himself no one’s attention veered his way did Draco notice the quill continuing to scribble away. He swiped the notepad from midair, a line of ink pulled down to the bottom of the sheet. “What’s this rubbish? I’m certainly not tormented by my family’s dark past, nor am I scared of it. I think you ought to try real journalism or at least know who you’re trying to make a mockery of.”

“Oh Draco, you are so similar to Harry.” She stood, plucking her notebook from his loose hold. “Both so determined. In fact, you share the same reckless attitude and desperate need for attention. It’s written all over that young, impressionable face of yours.”

“Forgive the interruption,” Dumbledore announced, having caught a few unfavorable words (as he tended to keep a preceptive ear). “If you could restrain from interrogating the students it’d be much appreciated. Unless, of course, you’d prefer to have me or another headmaster present for the duration of your discussions.”

Rita plastered another false grin. “Certainly, there’s no need. In fact, I think I’ve got everything I require. I’m ready for the next competitor. Cedric, if you may.”

Draco sauntered off as she ushered the last Hogwarts champion towards her.

“I see your interview went as spectacular as my own,” Harry offered, rather amused at the other’s sullen demeanor. If he really heard where the conversation drifted concerning his parents, his mood would’ve been far less pleased.

“Shove off, Scarhead.” Draco banged roughly into his shoulder as he passed, determined to take a note from Viktor and stay stashed away in the corner. If he mentioned the absurdity of Rita’s questions to his father then he’d remedy the problem for sure.

For the moment, however, he’d have to wait out the other’s conversations and probably take more pictures. All of which would probably drag into dinner.

Hermione assumed it to be the reason since neither competitor showed up. She sat at the end of the table, secluded enough to talk to Ginny, filling her in on all the details concerning what happened in class. Her last sentence ended in rather annoyed huff. “I just don’t know what to make of it. He's acting very strange lately.”

“Well, this is Malfoy we’re talking about.” Ginny paused, tilting her head, and reconsidered her statement. “I was skeptical at first, but what if he actually does like you? That would explain things, wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t think it’s possible.” Hermione started pushing her food around the plate. She wanted to consider it an option more than anything. “My parents are Muggles. He’s never seen me as an equal before and I doubt he’ll change his opinion. I feel positively dimwitted considering the option to be true. Besides, I think I ought to spend my time focusing on helping Harry in the tournament and on S.P.E.W instead.”

She wondered who’d try to aid Draco in the challenges. Undoubtedly, even Cedric’s close friends were willing to spend their days by his side if needed. Crabbe and Goyle always remained near Malfoy, nonetheless neither happened to be very bright.

“How is Harry handling it?” Ginny hadn’t said much to him since the Goblet chose him. She hung back, not willing to get engulfed in the sea of people usually crowding him.

“If he and Ron made up, probably much better.” She sighed, sparing a moment to glance in his direction. Fred and George sat next to their younger brother, sharing a laugh.

“He can be very stubborn. I tried talking to him myself. He refused to listen to me. Kept going on regarding picking sides or whatever.” Ginny shrugged before she took a sip of her pumpkin juice. “So, you’re going to do what about Malfoy exactly?”

Hermione provided herself a moment to stall by shoving a forkful of food in her mouth. The answer should be nothing because in reality her options were extremely limited. Yet one particular sentenced kept popping in her head. One he didn’t finish. She conceded to the notion of him grabbing her hand as an unintentional reflex, nothing else made sense.

“Think on it some other day?” Her qualms surfaced, breaking across her face. “Oh, I don’t know. Why can’t I fancy a boy who isn’t as complicated as Draco Malfoy? I must be mental.” She dropped her head onto her arms.

“I feel that way about Harry too,” Ginny admitted, able to empathize. “He’ll never look at me the way he does Cho. I still have a bit of a hard time talking to him, which isn’t helpful.”

Hermione placed her chin on her arms, thinking on it. “Maybe you should take your own advice and go out with other people. Try relaxing around him. I think Harry might take a bit more notice to you if you’re a little more yourself.”

“I suppose you’re right. I’ll give it a go if I happen to catch anyone’s attention.” Soon afterwards they went back to eating and let their discussion drift to casual chatter, until dinner ended anyway. “Want to walk back to the common room together?”

“Tomorrow? I need to talk to Professor Moody.” Hermione noticed his seat at the head table remained vacant, so she assumed his classroom was the best place to check.

His absence presented an open opportunity to ask about the tournament. While Hermione didn’t relish the idea of doubting Moody’s innocence, the newest staff member became a good starting point on who placed Harry and Draco’s name in the cup.

The two girls went their separate ways as Hermione considered the most respectable way to start her line of questioning. And hopefully prevent him from forming any accusatory conclusions, not that she’d blame him. Dumbledore trusted him and that should chase away any reservations.

#dramione #hermione granger #draco x hermione #harry potter #the goblet of fire #i meant to get this out last week #but there was thanksgiving #and some other things that got in the way #but here we are #nice comments are always appreciated #sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes

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