#you help me become a better writer every day

[fullsunalicia]

gif made by @dojaejung ! all credits to @dojaejung !

roses (m.) | jeong jaehyun

“it’s killing me to know there’s someone else out there buying you / roses, roses” OR where jung jaehyun is pathetic enough to be yearning after his beautiful ex-girlfriend, whom he reconnects with after awkwardly crashing her date with a new potential lover.

jeong jaehyun x ex-girlfriend! reader

warnings: some allusions to stalking and online harassment, some make-outage, oral (fem. receiving), some exhibitionism ig?????, some cussing, jaehyun is EXTREMELY down bad (he who yearns is he who earns amirite yall), svt as side characters for my caratzen agenda, also i’m still an awkward writer (in my opinion) so that warrants its own warning

This is why Jaehyun despises leaving his apartment.

For the first time in weeks, Doyoung and Taeyong, in their combined nerdy best friends power, have managed to make him go outside again. Although it’s the middle of the winter, each day inching closer to Christmas day, the bustling city is filled with people enjoying themselves despite the sub-zero temperatures. It makes him sick, really. Not people in general, for sure, but the sight of couples swarming about, their happy faces making sure every single person’s envious gaze is following them until they disappear around the corner.

Winter is sickening. Winter makes people too cozy, too cuddly, too loving. When spring comes, that love melts away, fleeting as it was. It dims out like the warm fire you stoke in the evening as you gather with your loved ones, in the morning long gone and forgotten with the loss of the guests. Jaehyun hates it. His friends knows he hates it.

So did you.

As Doyoung and Taeyong keep him in their middle, holding on to his arm on each sides as if they were old aunts bickering away, he reminisces about your shared hatred of the cold. You had hated snow, most of all, he remembers as he watches the thick, cold flakes swirl around in the air. It leaves a mist on the people passing by him, painting them in the lovely shades of the cold. Rosy cheeks, white smiling teeth, blue fingertips. If he closes his eyes, he can almost imagine it’s you clinging to him again, complaining loudly about the weather, scared of falling to the ground. You had always been incredibly clumsy, and unashamedly loud. Every passerby could not help but smile at your antics, but none smiled wider than the man you had wrapped around your littlest finger; Jaehyun, who had always stared at you instead of ahead. Jaehyun, who in the end always made you guys fall because he wasn’t concentrating on walking, he was concentrating on you.

You, the single star in his solar system he was orbitting around. He had felt himself collapsing, folding around you, as if he could ingrain himself in your existence in the very same manner you had immortalized yourself in his soul. How pathetic you had left him.

“Hey, earth to Jae! You’re not seriously upset we made you leave the house, right?” Taeyong’s hand forces itself into Jaehyun’s periphery as he waves it infront of Jaehyun’s face, trying to gain the man’s attention. Every finger was perfectly manicured, the tell-tale rings that signified Taeyong snapping Jaehyun out of his daydreams. Mentioned friend looks worried, but not regretful. “We were beginning to think you had fallen asleep in there, like some bear. You shouldn’t hibernate.”

“But bears got it so right. It’s so much better to sleep the winter away.” Jaehyun sounds exhausted, almost childish. He knew he was a grown man, not a teenager mooning over his first love. But it certainly felt like he had become the former. That was your effect.

“Dude.” Doyoung grasps his shoulder then, boring his gaze into Jaehyun’s face. He had been dreading that, actually; it’s hard to act like a complaining child when Doyoung makes you face yourself just like that. Almost unconsciously, Jaehyun straightens up. It’s almost like facing your mother, and he’s trying to avoid Doyoung’s fussing. “It’s been almost a year. I hate to be the one to be saying this, but you have to let it go at some point, man.”

You have to let it go at some point. Doyoung’s right, of course, but Jaehyun hasn’t yet reached that point of being reasonable. It’s not like the five stages of grief. Jaehyun is in the awkward process of trying to understand what has actually happened to him; why your relationship came to an end, why you were so kind to him despite it all, how you had finally cut him off. No one really knows why you did it, least of all Jaehyun. As you had broke it off with him after dropping him off at the airport before he flew to the first stop of his current world tour, there wasn’t exactly time to ask questions.

You had given him a letter and apologized (seriously, so not cool to explain in a letter just so you didn’t need to face him), and just as soon as the flight touched down at his destination and his phone had regained connection to his cellular data, you had changed your number, deleted your socials and disappeared from his life.

(Not like he immediately found you again when you re-debuted on social media. Johnny, as a true best friend, has forced him to limit looking at your instagram account to once a week, but how will Johnny know if he does it more? No one needs to know. Jaehyun would lose face if even anyone knew how much he misses you.)

Jaehyun lowers his eyes then, unable to keep looking at Doyoung. “Let go. Yeah.”

Doyoung and Taeyong exchange a worried gaze at that, before nudging him to a new direction. Their footsteps leave soft white traces, disappearing as quickly as they are made as fresh snow falls. “I got just the thing to cheer you up,” Taeyong quips then, and when he smiles at Jaehyun in an attempt to comfort him, Jaehyun finds the strength to smile back. Those are his friends, after all. If he weren’t so detached from his emotions, he’d find himself moved by their sincerity; his silly friends that loved and cared for him despite his habits and his weird coping methods. They didn’t judge when he sent them new song lyrics he had written in the middle of the night because the memory of you is still haunting him, scaring him off sleep because the comfort he gains from dreaming of you is as addicting as chasing liquor. They had let him ruminate in his apartment for as long as possible. It was time to face the world properly now. “Hot cocoa and waffles?”

Jaehyun snorted. “Like children?”

“Like children,” Taeyoung announces, his voice too earnest for the statement. Doyoung laughs, and then it’s difficult to not join in. Taeyong grins, happy to have drawn that reaction out of them. For the moment, Jaehyun feels normal again, and he offers to buy the waffles as Doyoung and Taeyong line up to buy the hot cocoa.

That’s the same moment where Jaehyun immediately regrets having left the house.

The sight of you physically knocks the breath of his lungs. For just a second, just seeing your face erases the feeling of all the pain that had been wrenching at his heartstrings, your beauty so all-encompassing it stuns him into silence. The cold season has kissed your face in the most pretty way - as you throw your head back in laughter, your (incredibly tempting) lips curve into his favorite smile of yours, the smile that has to be stolen out of you, so surprised by something that you laugh involuntarily. Honest. And earnest.

And beautiful.

It’s almost beautiful enough to make him not acknowledge the other man that you are gifting it to.

Jaehyun forces himself not to look, the effort incredible. He does not want to see who you have replaced him with, he really doesn’t, truly not, but then the dizzy envy makes him look so that he can bombard the man with death threats in his mind. Not that it matters. He could have been anyone, anyone at all. What did it matter if that was someone he knew or someone unknown, when the most damning thing about the situation was that it wasn’t him?

When he looks back at you to keep analyzing whether you like this man a lot, Jaehyun has come to the startled realization that you have noticed him, aswell. Your face has dropped, the shock painted over your face like an ill-fitting mask. “Jaehyun?” you say, the sweet voice carried over to him in the wind, and his knees almost buckle. (Jesus Christ, he’s a grown man.) Your partner notices, looking up to see whom you’re addressing, and Jaehyun’s nonchalant reaction to the irrelevance of the man’s identity disappears instantaneously.

Fuck you, he thinks hard at the dude, as if the sheer mental strength of his thoughts could reach him, for actually looking gorgeous. Fucking hell.

“Jeong Jaehyun?” You call again, robbing him off the opportunity to maybe pretend he hadn’t heard you. He forces himself to move forward.

“You know each other?” the guy asks then, and Jaehyun thinks to himself, No, idiot, I am the stalker that’s been breaking into her apartment and leaving her letters. But then he remembers how Johnny has admonished him for doing the social media equivalent and how often he visits your socials just for a glance at you, and the thought almost immediately sobers him up. “Jeong Jaehyun,” he introduces himself then, reaching out his hand to shake the other man’s, even though he’d rather bite it off. “We were…”

“Acquaintances,” you interrupt him almost immediately. The smile you sport now is nervous, to the untrained eye flawless. But Jaehyun knows every inch of your soul, and the look in your eyes pleads him not to acknowledge it. “Jaehyun used to be really close to my brother. You’ve met my brother, right?”

“Oh, Seokmin, right?” The stranger’s eye glint in recognition. “That means you must be cool, man. Anyone who’s in Seokmin’s good cards is good in mine. My name’s Junseo.”

“Nice to meet you, Junseo,” he makes himself speak, although the words taste like coal in his mouth, turning ashy as he pronounces them. He’s never been a good liar, always careful about choosing his words, but then, he’s never been in the situation where had to meet the lover that was going to replace him in your heart. He turns to you, your lovely face ripping into him. You stare back as if you are aware of the effort it takes him to remain friendly. You don’t look like you enjoy inflicting this havoc upon him, but ever since that day, he doesn’t truly know what you are capable of. “It was nice to see you,” he tells you, turning away as soon as the words leave his lips.

He never hears your “Jae”, the sound ripped out of you like an old instinct.

jaehyun

could you maybe at least warn me that your sister is back in town

dk 😁

yo

i didnt even know she was

can you let her know to bring milk to mom’s house we ran out this morning

jaehyun

. . .

no dk i cannot i almost collapsed when i saw her

can you say hello to your mom tho

Jaehyun drops the phone on the couch, the interaction having soured his mood just as much as the meeting with you. Seokmin was cool, and a really good friend, although a bit clueless. He had been firm in his support for Jaehyun, not picking sides, but not abandoning their friendship either, and had been one of the friends who had dragged him out for dinner once a week ever since the break-up to make sure Jaehyun was actually eating. Jaehyun doesn’t even think this happened to your dismay. You were way too nice, and even your fucking break-up letter had been kind, even though it hadn’t been enough to wipe the blank look in his eyes as he had read it.

“Okay, so that may have went worse than we thought,” Taeyong proclaims, the hot cocoa still steaming in his hand. Even though they had technically paid for the cup as a loan, taking it back home felt like stealing. Jaehyun couldn’t find it in himself to care. He was staring at the ceiling, looking at no one. “But hey, at least we found out who the mystery guy on her instagram was!”

Johnny, who had let himself into the apartment while they were gone, perked up at that. Very aware of your instagram due to Jaehyun’s influence, he knew that there had been an odd silhouette in your instagram story the past few weeks, almost a soft-launch and almost not. There had been theories whether the mystery guy had been a new lover. Jaehyun had almost thrown up when Mark had suggested the idea. “You did? She was with a man?”

“Yeah, Junseo what’s-his-name. Didn’t give a last name, though.” Doyoung sounds concentrated, probably too focussed on not breaking Jaehyun’s new coffee machine. “Jaehyun, coffee?”

“No,” Jaehyun deadpans. “I want death.”

The entire room groans at that. “Fresh out of death, dude,” Johnny tells him, bowing over the couch to throw a blanket over where Jaehyun was laying and Mark had fallen asleep. Johnny was his best friend in the entire world, and very used to Jaehyun’s antics. Throughout it all(the acclimatization to the celebrity life, the growing into a fully formed and actualized person in the public eye, the stabbing ache of heartbreak), Johnny had become a brother to him. It was Johnny’s hand pulling him along through life, his ears that were entrusted with every joy and worry in Jaehyun’s mind, his kindness that kept Jaehyun standing sometimes. “It’s coffee or nothing,” he continues after ensuring both men on the couch were covered with the blanket. And then, as he turns back to Doyoung: “Make him some coffee. He hasn’t touched his cocoa.”

The quiet bickering of his friends fade away then, forcing him to come to terms with what has happened. Seeing your face again felt like being struck down by God, to put it in blasphemous terms. You had always been the most beautiful person to him, including both his preference that came from loving you and his attraction to people in general. Jaehyun hadn’t been the kind of man to have an exact type before meeting you, but now he looks for you in every smile, every fluttering lash, in every face he meets. Looking for the traces of where your ancestors had painted their magic, the overarching connection between several generations, the hand reaching across time. Whoever crafted you had taken his time to ensure every single detail, and the love that had flowed into the shaping of you glinted across every feature. Having been starved of seeing you, this interaction had thrown him into cold water face first. Even the memory stung.

You hadn’t looked bothered to see him. If anything, you had been as sweet as always, even though you hadn’t expected to see him. He had thought being gone from your side had hurt, but seeing that Junseo was making him sick to the stomach. It was his job to make you laugh like that. It was his duty to ensure your happiness. To think of that fool doing it in his stead made him spark up with a fury that he had long forgotten, the feeling so unfamiliar it made him reach inside those spaces inside himself that he had abandoned for so long. During the separation every emotion had come to him so dull and muted - happiness, sadness, surprise, anger. But as if they had never left him, Jaehyun recognized that he was jealous.

Awfully jealous.

So that was the next step of Jaehyun’s alternative five stages of grief process. Instead of coming to terms with the ephemeral nature of his relationship with you, he’s pining over the one woman he cannot have. He raises his hands to cover his face, his fingers shaking - it’s crazy, how you unravel him. It’s been eight months and Jaehyun is still willing to go on his knees to beg just to make sure you stop seeing anyone else.

(At that point, he was very unaware of how near in the future that was going to happen.)

“Hey, dude.” Jaehyun is snapped out of his thoughts by the raspy voice of one Mark Lee. He lowers his hands to see Mark peaking his head out of the blanket, hair completely ruined from tossing and turning in his sleep, looking just like the lion that his friends affectionately nickname him as. Their friends are still bickering in the kitchen, arguing about how to handle the coffee machine properly, with Doyoung’s voice cutting through the others. “You alright over there?”

Jaehyun clears his voice. He suddenly feels glad that Mark doesn’t know yet that he’s seen you, as he doesn’t want to burden Mark with his worries. He’s only a little younger, but he’s the closest thing to a younger sibling Jaehyun has, and he treasures him to the point where he often wants to shield him from the shit that Jaehyun has going on. “Yeah, all good. Why did you wake up? Not sleepy anymore?”

“Your phone has been going off like crazy.” Mark points at the aforementioned phone before yawning. As Jaehyun reaches for the device, he sits up and looks into the kitchen from the vantage point he has of the kitchen. The screen lights up after a few quick taps, and Mark asks: “Something important? Sounds like someone’s spamming you.”

dk 😁

not to be the bearer of bad news but mom wants to have you over for dinner on saturday

😭 maybe i shouldnt have delivered your greetings bro

i think my sister has a date on that evening tho so maybe nothing will happen?????

i mean you can say no but you know damn well my mom loves you (because you kiss up to her) so

yeah

i get if you dont want to

Jaehyun blinks. Several times. Then, he drops his face into his hands again, sighing so loudly that even Mark seems astonished.

It seems like you’re not gonna leave his mind anytime soon.

The first time Jaehyun had met you, you had still been a junior in college.

He’s always known you existed, of course - the pretty-faced little sister that was off-limits to anyone, who had the most embarrassing haircut when she was still in middle school, who liked to receive flowers for her birthday instead of gifts. Seokmin doesn’t talk about you often, but when he does, there’s a gentle smile etched on his face that seems like the most jarring contrast to the way he bickers and fights with you in person. Jaehyun couldn’t conjure an image of you, but when he thought of your name, it filled Jaehyun’s mind with a sweet dream. He had been missing you in his heart before he had even met you, the soft tug of a red string around his littlest finger.

The request had been hastily asked and innocent in nature. Pick up my sister, please? An unusual request, as Seokmin never introduced his sister to anyone for your own privacy, but it didn’t bother Jaehyun to do it, especially since DK was a very good friend. You had been incredibly drunk, and uncomfortable at a party, and called for the person you trust most in the world. DK on the other hand, drunk out of his own mind at an entirely different party in his own dorm shared with his bandmates, had called a friend he knew he could entrust with the safety of his littlest sister.

Completely hammered and wobbling on your entirely too high heels, you had gladly clung to Jaehyun’s arm after realizing he had been the savior your brother had sent you. Your introduction came out loud and clear, and you had enunciated every syllable to make sure he heard it. When he correctly repeated the name back to you to ensure he remembered it, a dazzling smile had split across your lips in the cutest way possible. It had made his heart jump in a deliciously agonizing way.

“Can you walk?” he had asked you then, pointing down at your monstrous heels. He had truth be told been incredibly impressed with the way you had managed to leave the front porch of the party house, even though every step enunciated that you were incredibly intoxicated. You had waved off his worry and beamed at him with the innocent happiness only a drunk person could exude, completely free from all wordly burdens. “Don’t worry!” you told him, your voice as melodious as it was pleasing. “I’ve walked in worse heels! And I’m not even that drunk!”

Jaehyun had no intention of questioning you, but the exclamation did make him laugh. He had been awkward about the interaction the entire time he had driven here. Would you be able to even feel comfortable with him? What if you guys didn’t speak about anything? But your behavior had loosened up the tension inside his chest, and he found himself relaxing under your hold, gently guiding you back to his car. Your grip was tight, but not painful, and you had hooked your arm around his to keep close to him in a way that wasn’t entirely unwelcome to him. He had not expected to warm up to you so quickly. “So you’re able to hold your liquor? You must not actually be related to DK then. The guy can’t hold his liquor for shit.”

The joke tugged a surprised laugh out of you. It was a nice sound, the genuineness of it making a smile form around Jaehyun’s lips. So open, so friendly, so extroverted - so incredibly different from him, and yet a simple laugh from you made Jaehyun entranced with the existence of you. He wanted to relish the sound, making him wrap his fingers around the keys in his pockets to ensure they wouldn’t rattle when he pulled them out. “I’m sure he’s got that from mom,” you had explained to him while snickering, momentarily letting go from him as he opened the door for you. After clambering in and pulling the door shut, he had walked around the car to climb in himself. The door clicked shut. “I’m my father’s daughter through and through. We used to place bets at New Year’s parties with the family how much time it would take for mom to crash out after a single bottle of champagne.”

“And?” he asks. The engine of the car sprung to life with a simple press of a button, idling quietly while Jaehyun had put on his seatbelt. “Did you win the bet?”

Your expression in the rearview mirror was smug when Jaehyun checked his surroundings in it, pulling out of the parking space he had found near the house the party was in. “I was fifty bucks richer about half an hour later.”

Jaehyun couldn’t help but laugh - at your behavior, your teasing little remarks, the way you hiccuped before laughing because you were a little liar that couldn’t hold their liquor. By the time he had reached DK’s apartment building, where you had requested to be dropped off because you wanted to sleep over at your brother’s, your drunkenness had made you drowsy. Without even thinking about it, you had climbed over the console to envelop Jaehyun in a hug, shocking him to the core. Your floral perfume had been dizzying, but the near proximity of you had almost made him drunk himself. Jaehyun was an idol under the strict gaze of both his employer and his supporters. His resulting touch-starvation had made him grasp your soft waist with both hands, and he closed his eyes to soak in the warmth of your touch. It was startingly intimate. “Thank you for bringing me home,” you had murmured against his shoulder, momentarily resting your head on it, as if it belonged there - as if you had been made to be held by him. You lined up perfectly, like puzzle pieces, and for a moment, Jaehyun had felt complete in a way that made him question himself was my heart always hollow of you?

When you pulled back with your bright smile and your hazy eyes, a pink blush had dusted across Jaehyun’s cheeks that he prayed you hadn’t noticed. “You’re super duper nice,” you proclaimed then, not fully retracting from where you were leaning on his body. Not pushing his hands away, either. “And it’s way more fun to ride in your car than in Jeonghan’s. You drive like a responsible adult.”

“Are you saying Jeonghan doesn’t drive like a responsible adult?”

“I’m not sure he knows what that is.” Giggling, you untangled yourself from him, startling Jaehyun with the immediate ache for you. Get a grip, he thought to himself. Acting like a teenage virgin. “And I should know!” you enunciated. “The idiot tried teaching me how to drive. If DK hadn’t put an end to that, I would have never gotten my driver’s license.”

Jaehyun, still reeling from the affection you had graced him with, smiled shyly at that. “Well, I’m glad to have brought you home safe, like the responsible adult I am. Can you make it up on your own?”

You “mhm”ed loudly, noisily maneuvring yourself out of the car. Jaehyun winced quietly when the heels of your shoes clacked against the pavement harshly, almost sure one had broken. But you had straightened up with a grin, waving stupidly, shouting loud “thank-you”s and “get home safe!”s as he watched you walk into the apartment complex, running into your drunk brother and almost-brothers (as his bandmates liked to title themselves as, loving you like you were one of their own).

He had sat and waited for a long time for his erratic heart to slow down again. You were a miracle he hadn’t been waiting for, like a sudden blessing after a fervent prayer. He went to sleep thinking of your name, finally being able to connect it with a face, the yearning following him into his dreams.

It was that same yearning that woke him up in the middle of the night now, reaching for the empty bedside, remembering where you were.

Remembering that you weren’t reaching for him anymore, no matter how much you had loved him.

Jaehyun cleans up nicely, when he wants to. When he checks his reflection in the camera app one last time before ringing the door, he almost doesn’t recognize himself. Johnny’s girlfriend had helped him put on a little bit of make-up to cover the black shadows under his eyes and wished him luck, although he wasn’t sure what he needed the luck for. To see you? Not to see you? The question had been eating away at him on the way here, making his hands sweat to the point that the driver’s wheel had looked kind of disgusting afterwards. He can’t shake the cold fear that accompanies the thought of you these days. The desire to be in your presence was a knife turning in his guts, so sharp that even the pain seemed more welcome than another day without you. As he closes his eyes, he imagines you opening the door, welcoming him home, kissing all the exhaustion away. But when the door opens up after knocking at it, the sweet face of your mother receives him.

Not that the sight isn’t welcome. Jaehyun sees his mother often enough to not have to miss her, but the need for a motherly presence never truly leaves you, no matter how old you are. There is a part of him that will always be a child, reaching for his parents’ hands, knowing he will be safe there. Your mother fills that space often when his own cannot. “Jaehyunnie! I’m glad you made it, sweetling,” your mother gushes, hurrying to clasp his hands. The sight of her red, marred hands makes his heart hurt - has she been overworking herself? - but the pain is soon replaced with a gentle warmth spreading inside his chest at her motherly clucking. “Hurry inside, we made your favorite! You still like spicy pork, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He removes his shoes before stepping inside, feeling nostalgic. The first time he had met your parents, the house had been newly bought and hardly acquired, with your parents having haggled for an appropriate price for months. Over the years, the building had been renovated, filled with furniture, and changed as more and more memories had been made in this place. To see it now standing proudly and lived in made him happy, but also sad, as he wasn’t fully part of that experience anymore.

“Don’t be silly, boy! You know you call me mom here!”

“Yes, mom.”

“Mom,” rings out the complaining voice of Seokmin then. He’s standing at the foot of the stairs. His voice had been petulant, but there’s a very big grin on his face as Jaehyun approaches him in greeting, and they hug each other without hesitation. DK had seen him go through enough shit to not have to shy back from physical affection. “Don’t nag with Jaehyun before he’s properly inside. How’s it going, J? I heard your new album, it was awesome!”

Your mother nods enthusiastically. “You are hard-working as always, Jaehyunnie! The songs sound beautiful!”

Jaehyun laughs, bashful. He feels awkward and happy at once, to be complimented upon for his talents while simultaneously knowing that most of those songs had been written with you in mind. “Thank you for saying that,” he answers.

“It’s only right,” your mother tuts then. As she turns to walk back in the kitchen, she opens her mouth to say something again, but there’s another knock at the door, startling them all. The three exchange glances, both Seokmin and your mother seeming surprised by the noise. “Are you expecting someone, Seokminnie?” When DK shakes his head no in answer, she walks back to the door, humming to herself in confusion. “Maybe your father? But he’s not supposed to get off work until 8.”

Before your mother even opens the door, the dread of who could possibly be standing in front of that door tells Jaehyun what to expect. And as he turns over that assumption in that mind, the door opens to reveal you, clad in a red dress that hugs your curves and exposes your mid-thigh. “Oh, sweetie!” your mother exclaims. “But what are you doing here? Aren’t you going to dinner with that Junseo-ssi?”

You don’t answer, your eyes locked onto him. He recognizes the sight of slight panic and confusion in your eyes - apparently, DK hadn’t told you that you were visiting in the hopes that you wouldn’t see each other anyways. Although barely a second passes, it feels like eternity as you take each other in.

Fuck, you’re as beautiful as the day he lost you. He doesn’t even register that your mother is still chattering away as he drinks in the sight of you, the sinful silhouette and the angel eyes that have been accentuated by a skilled hand and your favorite eyeliner pen. The blood rushes in his veins, filling his ears with the sound of waves crashing, his desire lapping higher and higher until it makes his chest hurt. “Mom,” you manage to say. “He was called into work at the last minute. It’s pretty awkward to be the only one all dolled up here, so may I go up and change please? And not have to make awkward small talk in the salon?”

“Of course, sweetling, just go up! Seokmin will help me with the last preparations for dinner.” Your mother leaves at that, and the three adults remaining are crushed by the awkward tension in the room. Even more awkward for the third wheel in the room is that neither of both you and Jaehyun have looked away from each other ever since you walked in, and DK takes the chance to quietly slip out of the room to join his mother in the kitchen, leaving Jaehyun to his doom.

(Traitor.)

Jaehyun breathes out, struggling to fill his lungs with the air he needs. “You look stunning,” he says, his voice straining to pronounce the words. It’s pathetic how much he wants to press you against that wall and devour you. Even though his inner adult yells at him that he isn’t yours anymore, the thoughts do not stop coming. Truthfully, there can’t be any scientific explanation for how fast his heart races because of you, but it keeps on beating, jumping out of his chest. Falling to your feet.

You finally step out of the doorframe, into the house itself. The door quietly falls into the lock. You reach down to unclasp your high heels, the movement mechanic. You seem as dazed as he is. He entertains the possibility whether he has the same effect on you as you do on him, but he casts the thought aside immediately. You had left him, after all. “Thank you,” you answer, your voice meek. As if you were to strangers. “Are you … doing well?”

I hope that despite the way I’m ending things, you will be well. I pray that you are healthy, that you are eating enough, that you flourish in your career as you deserve to be. You are outstanding, Jeong Jaehyun, a flaming star lighting up the sky. I pray that you find it in yourself to forgive me.

“Well?” he echoes, as if that word was a joke. And then, almost in disbelief, he asks back, “Are you?”

You lower your gaze then. “I finish my master’s degree this year, so I’m a little stressed. But aside from that, I am fine, thank you for asking.” You straighten up, intending to walk past him. But Jaehyun, as if possessed, grabs your wrist; the touch makes both of you shudder, and you look up to see the absolute yearning in his eyes staring back at you. He doesn’t really know what made him do it, and he seems as shocked as you are; he had been thinking more quickly than he had been moving, and his muscles spasmed from the lack of communication between his nerves and his brain.

It’s written across his face, it must be. The intense wish to bow his head and lean against you, cage you against the railing of the stairs. To make you reach inside his soul and connect the broken pieces there that were the remaining shards of his heart. Jaehyun doesn’t want anyone else in the world to see inside him like that. He wants you, he wants to be your boyfriend. Despite it all. The good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly. Are you well? Jaehyun’s hand slips lower, interlocking your fingers, the physical connection there setting fire to the skin. I pray that you are. “Take care of yourself,” he tells you instead of all the words that have been left unsaid ever since you abandoned him, all the tears that he has shed. He wants to tell you how his pride for your success makes him fly higher than any of his own achievements ever would, how soft his heart feels at the fact that you are so close to reaching your goals. How much he wishes to be a part of supporting you towards that. But he doesn’t.

You don’t break free of his hold, but it seems clear that you do not reciprocate the hurricane of emotions he is feeling right now. “You shouldn’t say that,” you tell him, tone polite, but your voice sounds hesitant. He wants to kiss the hesitation out of you, eat your laughter as he tugs at your lower lip. The proximity is driving him crazy. “I mean, I don’t wanna be rude. But I am seeing Junseo. You don’t have to worry about me, Jae. Jaehyun.” You cough awkwardly, as if that can erase the affectionate nickname, as if there isn’t something inside you still calling for him. You step backwards. If hitting the railing is embarrassing to you, you don’t let it show.

He lets go of you and steps back, then silently watches you go up the stairs. Your soft shuffling as you walk back to your room. The decisive shutting of a door.

Silently dreaming of what would happen if you graced him with your attention again.

The dinner itself is uneventful. You make polite conversation, thankfully sitting diagonally away from him, wedged in between your mother and your brother, whom Jaehyun sits across. But he sees the blush never truly leaving your face, and the way you throw glances at him when you think he isn’t paying attention. It makes him delusional enough to imagine that maybe, he wasn’t the only one still thinking about their ex.

Jaehyun glances down at his cleared plate, a half smile curling at his lips. Not truly a real smile. But not truly a lie, either.

@leey/n has started following you on Instagram!

@leey/n has liked a post!

The third time your paths cross, you truly think you are about to go crazy.

This is an art gallery, for crying out loud. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jaehyun in a museum. Not that he’s uneducated or disinterested, mind you, but Jaehyun was the kind of guy to take you to places where you could etch your own memories across the place. The arcade in Busan where you won your first ever plushie and promptly gifted it to him, for one; the trip to Jeju where you had almost fainted and scared the shit out of Jaehyun; the high-end restaurant in Gangnam where you both can never let your face be seen again after having been thrown out for laughing too loud. You had spoken about the particular art gallery here once, debating about attending an event that was held in that month, but ultimately had the decision taken out of your hands after you unexpectedly had to go the hospital due to your appendix bursting. But here he was, looking like the most ravishing man alive in that stupid suit.

It should be forbidden to look that good. Genuinely. You think your heart stops momentarily when you see him, and then again when your gaze involuntarily drops to the exposed skin of his chest, displaying the vulnerable area due to the v-cut of his suit jacket. Hell. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was doing this on purpose.

You gather up the train of your dress and hurry over before anyone can recognize either him or you. He looks startled, and then that weird flash of desperation flits across his eyes before he hastily makes himself appear composed. You don’t for the life of you know why exactly his reaction to you is like that, but you suppose the time for complaining was over, since, you know, you broke up with him. You knew it had been a bitch move to write a letter, but you couldn’t exactly tell him the true reason to his face. Hey, I know this sounds stupid, but I’m afraid of ruining your career because netizens keep shit talking our relationship and tainting your reputation, have a nice day though!

No, he’d never understand. This was for the best. He’d been so close to completing his album, so proud of what he had achieved, and the grief of almost taking that away from him made you want to throw up. So you had decided to sacrifice yourself, in an as cowardly manner as possible.

No one would ever know that Jeong Jaehyun made your soul sing in the most exquisite way possible, and that your heart had been filled with so much joy that it almost burst. No one needed to know.

“What are you doing here?” You hiss at him. You turn your head to ensure that no one is actually looking, before tugging him to the side. Almost unconsciously, you take his hand and guide him to a different spot, a quiet corner where only strangers were staring at the art being displayed. Even the music was muted.

“Is this not a public event?” he hisses back, confused by your behavior. But he lets you do as you please, even lowering his head to yours to make sure no one hears. His fingers gently tangle with yours, swiping across your knuckles as he always does - did. It’s like your love runs deeper than human behavior, deeply embedded in your body’s instincts. You see it in the way the caution you display reflects back in his eyes, as if your secrets are still holier to him than his own. Even though he has no idea why you’re being so ominous. It’s one of the qualities you love most about Jaehyun; he never once tries to tell you what to do, always acquiescing your needs, letting you take the lead when necessary. It makes a traitorous happiness bloom inside your chest that he is still the kind of person who would always have your back. “Why exactly wouldn’t I be here? If it’s because you didn’t want to see my face, don’t tell me that. I don’t think I could handle it.”

“Jeong Jaehyun,” you groan, exasperated as you are. You hastily scan the area, always dreading that Junseo is about to turn the corner to catch you both. It had already been a surprise that evening had been made possible, since Junseo was a workaholic. Your friends joked around that he loves his residency at Seoul General Hospital first, and you second. You did not want to squander this opportunity of growing closer to him, a whim based on the fact that he was a pretty face and you desperately needed to move on. You weren’t serious, and you could count the amount of dates you had been on on one hand, but it worked its magic enough. Jaehyun only needed to believe that you were moving on. And Junseo only needed to believe Jaehyun was unimportant. Not like it’s forbidden to speak with an “acquaintance”, even if he did see you both here - but Jeong Jaehyun wasn’t an acquaintance, he was your ex-boyfriend for crying out loud, and if it weren’t for the necessary masquerade to appear as if you were moving on, you wouldn’t even be entertaining Junseo’s presence, no matter how charming he was. It was a stupid plan, concocted by an even more stupid Jeonghan. “Who would’t want to see your face? That’s not what I mean.”

The compliment slips out before you can hold it back. It’s so easy, so habitual to make it, to admire Jeong Jaehyun’s existence. You had never even met a man like him. He was sin made flesh, with his well-formed, strong body, the gorgeous face, the sun-kissed hair that switched colors from comeback to comeback. Jaehyun looks surprised to hear it. The dimples in his cheeks signal the smile that stretches across his lips, sweet and genuine and startled. It makes you sad, that he doesn’t expect those compliments; he is the kindest, sincerest, most attentive man you know.

(And if you were still in a relationship, you would have torn the clothes off of him and jumped him for looking that good in a suit. Not want to see his face my ass - you could stare at Jeong Jaehyun all day.)

“I thought we weren’t supposed to say stuff like that,” he says back, his voice low. It sounds deliciously rough, the way it sometimes sounded when you woke him from his sleep to kiss him, the sleepy yawns turning into soft moans when you rode him, his hands mapping out the space of your skin. You shake your head, as if you can shake off the memory. Your adoration for him went bone-deep. “Whatever,” you say hastily, as if that can erase the obvious pining you are displaying. “I mean, I don’t want Junseo to see us. I know you don’t like to lie, and I’m sorry for introducing you as an acquaintance, but I’d like it to remain that way. For him to believe there was nothing between us, I mean.”

“And is there?” Jaehyun’s voice sounds steady. It kills you to see the hope in his eyes, even now, even after you’ve hurt him after flaunting a new relationship. You remember his beautiful face on that day at the Christmas market, where the agony in his eyes had almost made you weep. You never ever wanted to be responsible for Jaehyun’s grief, not even now. “Nothing between us?”

You falter then, forgetting what you want to say. You can’t tell him the truth, you cannot - the truth being that when you look into Jaehyun’s eyes, your knees go weak and your hands yearn to claw at him and your kisses want to devour him whole, bones and all. You want to crawl inside him and live there forever, like the insane lover you are. You want to kiss him until you forget your own name, until the mornings become routine where you wake up next to him, where the sight of his beautiful face becomes the first thing you see after waking up for the rest of your life. The wish is so fervent it catches you off-guard, and it weakens your resolve. “There’s nothing, Jaehyun,” you say. Even you can hear the uncertainty. The atmosphere is so tense that you didn’t even notice the room has cleared out; the area is curtained off, a special exhibition inside the actual exhibition, for a yet-to-be-discovered artist who gained the space to present their art through chance. The few people who had mingled here had quietly left, identifying the situation as a lover’s spat. Anyone could walk in. Anyone. The realization makes your heart skip a beat. “You understand that, don’t you?”

Your words make sense, yet your actions don’t. You unconsciously inch closer to him. You shouldn’t, you shouldn’t, you shouldn’t. “You’re confusing me,” Jaehyun responds, sounding frustrated, but when his hands find your waist, his touch is careful. Gentle. Like a collector in awe of the precious rare item he has found. “I thought you hated my guts. You know, that’s the kind of interpretation a break-up letter entails.”

“Jaehyun,” you whisper. You want to rip his hands off, leave him here to come to terms with the realization that this relationship is over. It had been such a difficult situation, and so painful; to rip the band-aid off in the manner that you did. You hadn’t even told Jeonghan about the reason you broke it off, so afraid of the consequences, yet more afraid of the repercussions of your relationship to Jaehyun’s career. You needed to tell him off now, before you do something you would regret. You do none of these things, however. You let Jeong Jaehyun cradle your face in the middle of the gallery as if nothing has changed and the two of you are eternal and you have never been apart. Something inside of you reaches for his soul, across the gaping abyss that forced mythological Orpheus and Eurydice apart. You let him bring your face close enough that he can press his cheek against yours, mimicking Gustav Klimt’s The Kiss hanging in the hall outside. A sweet irony. It had always been your favorite painting, and you know there was a copy of it hanging in Jaehyun’s living room, bought by you for an anniversary long past. His lips trace the lines of your cheekbones, feeding the selfish ache inside you that is always desperate for Jaehyun. “It doesn’t matter. I’m with a different man.”

The answer makes Jaehyun draw in a sharp breath, but his ministrations continue on; as if his love for you was an instinct he was chasing after unconsciously. His lips trail a burning path across your face, his fingers curling at your nape. Lulling you in. Entrancing you. “At the risk of sounding like an asshole - I don’t care,” he murmurs against your skin, the words reverberating in your blood. “I would give anything for being able to touch you like this. Even if this is the last time.”

You screw your eyes shut. Even if this is the last time. Almost mechanically, you raise your arms to draw him against you, your bodies lining up perfectly; you had always secretly enjoyed how well you guys fit together. A perfect match. When you had dropped him off at that airport, you had been robbed of truly saying goodbye to him. Coming home late, almost oversleeping and missing his flight, riding in separate cars because the staff had piled into the seats of which at least one should have been reserved for you. You couldn’t even kiss him goodbye - you had let go of Jaehyun with a heavy heart, a mind full of anxieties turning over all the threats you had received not only digitally, but now even physically, and with a mouth full of lies. This is the last time. You look up at the same time as Jaehyun decides to throw all caution against the wind, bowing his head to inch closer. “Let me kiss you, please,” he whispers, the desperation in his voice so heady it makes you feel drunk. “May I kiss you?”

You draw in a sharp, shuddering breath, and murmur your assent. As if this had been a decision and not a stabbing, sharp need below your chest. “Yes. Yes, Jaehyun.”

Your lips meet his halfway, although meet is the wrong words. It’s a crash and burn, two stars folding around one another and exploding in a supernova; there is nothing human about the way Jaehyun hungrily devours the surprised gasp you let out. His kiss is all fire and blood and teeth, the messy clacking of two people who had been made to love each other once and then cut apart by fate. Your hastily sucked in breaths keep getting interrupted every time Jaehyun kisses you again, and again, and again. It’s a sweet torture, and a productive one. By the time he has dragged you against a wall you are lightheaded and out of it, your skin prickling with the feeling of Jaehyun mapping out his way. “Oh sweetheart,” he sighs out against your collarbone, his teeth painting markings across your chest. You barely even register him falling to his knees. “I could die tomorrow and be a happy man.”

“What are you doing?” You ask him, dazed. Your hands find his shoulders (has he become even broader? You seriously need to have a talk with Johnny and the gym routine he forces Jaehyun through). Despite your confusion, your body remembers Jaehyun. You barely even think about following his guidance, complying almost immediately when he taps against your waist so that you raise your leg and angle it over his shoulder. The belated realization makes you blush heavily; your addled mind cannot keep up with your body’s compliance. “Jeong Jaehyun! Are you insane?”

You intended to sound fierce and reprimanding, but when you finally look down to meet his gaze, your knees almost buckle. Jaehyun looks like a man starved, his eyes heavy-lidded with desire, the irises blown wide to ensure every detail of you is burned into his recollection. He looks like a worshipper, and his hands move across the supple flesh of your thighs as if in prayer. Blasphemous and heavenly. And incredibly dangerous. You can still hear the loud chatter of the other guests behind the curtain, just across the room. The nervousness makes your veins thrum. “Baby,” he says, sounding genuinely disbelieving. “Do you honestly think I won’t use this chance to taste you one last time? I don’t know what made you tolerate me suddenly, but I am not going to be the idiot that ruins the opportunity. You’ll let me go down on you, won’t you, sweetheart?”

The term of endearment makes you all fuzzy-minded and giddy. “I … yes … But anyone could walk in…” you nervously start, and yet you angle your hips forward so that Jaehyun can tug down your black lace panties, barely noticing that he tucks them inside his suit pockets. “And we’re not supposed to … I mean, I shouldn’t …. Jesus, Jae!”

In the middle of your feeble attempt of climbing back to the moral highground, Jaehyun had positioned himself right at your core; your hands fumble to hold on to his shoulders before he kisses your vulva way too innocently for a man who’s currently going down on you in the middle of a public art gallery. You barely remember to lean back against the wall for support before Jaehyun dives in like you are the last meal he is ever permitted to have on this earth, and he is determined to make it last.

You bite back a cry when Jaehyun finally laps at you, the torturous kitten lick lighting your entire body aflame with want. Although Jaehyun immediately follows it up by generously sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves, you cast aside all pretense of decorum due to your greed and dig your fingers in his hair to direct him closer, much closer, and Jaehyun moans. The sound is so delicious it makes your veins burn with desire, the physical pain of craving him running almost hotter than your need to be pleasured. Keyword almost. You wanted to come all over his mouth just for that delicious fucking noise, but your stomach was tensing up, the quick arousal accomplished by the serious lack of sex and masturbation that the past few months had been for you. Jaehyun’s hands claw at your knees, climbing to your thighs, forcing your legs wide open to welcome his fingers where he drags them across your all-too-welcoming entrance. “So wet,” he groans against your core, and you whimper at the vibration, bucking against his lips. Even though he loves to run his mouth during sex, he gets it to work anyways. Jaehyun laps up your sweetness as it drips down, his thumb flicking at your sensitive spots until he has you keening and tearing at his hair. “God, sweetheart, look at what a mess you’re making. You’re fucking gorgeous.”

“Jaehyun,” you gasp when he finally dives his tongue into you, the muscle pumping in mock-fashion of what he would love to do to you. The compliments are doing insane things to you and your heart, your poor heart that is going to cling to this moment forever. While Jaehyun’s fingers work their magic, your own begin to spasm, pulling and tearing at him. Submitting to you and your feral hunger he finally adds a finger, his right hand busy with fingering you while his left hands continues to trace circles over your clitoris. The sudden penetration has you remembering that his own digits are way longer than yours, the memory accompanying the sensation of him reaching further and further until he finds the right spot that has you bowing over him with a loud moan. This is what you missed, what you were imagining when you were daydreaming about sex, daydreaming about the godly way Jaehyun pounded you into the mattress. He knows he’s got you now, speeding up his ministrations at every noise you make. You screw your eyes shut with a bone-deep shudder, the sweet tension inside your abdomen pulling tighter and tighter in a familiar tell-tale sign. “Jaehyun, slow down, fuck!”

He’s curling his fingers, eager for your approval, hungry for more noises - through your blurry eyes, you realize he’s watching you through it all, the gaze of a predator. Not once does he look away, continuing his sweet song of praise. “So beautiful,” he coos against your pussy, pressing close so he can speak the words into your skin, your soul. In your state, it almost sounds like Jaehyun is the only thing in your world, and hasn’t it always been? The miracle in your life that you surrendered all your worship to? You lurch forward when he sucks your clit into his mouth, seeing white for a second, the stimulation becoming too much. “Keep looking at me, please. Wanna watch you when you come.”

“I…. can’t!” you manage to babble, realizing you are edging closer to your climax. You’ve never once been this quick, not with anyone but with Jaehyun; the only man in your life that knew every inch of you, the very shape of your soul. Your body is as familiar to him as the back of your hand; more familiar to him than his own self. Jaehyun is too impatient to deal with your arguments, though. “You can,” he hisses against you, dragging his fingers more fervently. Your warm walls tighten around them, hungrily trying to keep them in, to keep going. The sudden clenching around his fingers makes it difficult. “Look at me and cum or you won’t get to cum at all, I swear it.”

That’s all it takes for you to finally let go, almost weeping with the overwhelming pleasure. Your orgasm washes over you almost too violently, forced on by Jaehyun’s overstimulation as he keeps going and going and going, and by the time you push him off your sensitive pussy there are tears falling from your eyes. But you drag him close and kiss him, kiss him so hard you think he’s going to bruise, and Jaehyun lets you; it is much sweeter and patient than the beginning of the altercation, so sweet on your tongue it has you melting against Jaehyun. This is it, that adrenaline you kept chasing; true, painful, but worth it love. You feel too sensitive and too aware and too alight, but you wrap your arms around him all the same, as if you can keep him forever. Your kisses reach inside of him, desperate for connection, heavy with the longing that had accompanied you everywhere ever since you left him. You think you were born to love Jeong Jaehyun, and you kiss him as if you are Eve reaching for the forbidden apple - knowing it’s wrong, wanting it anyway. You want and you want and you want. Your hands are on his soft cheeks, dragging against his shoulders, careless, loving. You love Jeong Jaehyun, love him so much that your very existence is exploding from the inherent triumph that accompanied witnessing him.

You think you would gladly go to hell for tasting divinity on Jaehyun’s lips. You’d rather be a sinner than apart from him for being a saint.

When you finally tear away from him, Jaehyun’s lips are swollen(your heart almost fails at the sheer pleasure that sight gives you). He lets you drag your thumb across the kiss-stained lip, wiping away the lipstick, tracing his jawline. “Such a beautiful face,” you tell him, watching as he preens from the affection. Your heart to yearns to give him more, but you finally force yourself to step away before you die from the overdosis that is Jaehyun. He watches you, completely out of it. “This is the last time,” you remind him. The lie comes so easily now, even though you are trying to memorize his gorgeous face, tattooing it across your mind palace. You will never forget this, no matter what illness or loss comes for you. Not Jeong Jaehyun. “The last time, okay, Jae?”

You place your hand over his heart, and he places his own above it. For a moment, the situation feels eternal. You were in love and you were both idiots, but it was okay because you were handling it together. Because you would face all the challenges together. Because you would work towards a future together. But the spell is broken soon, and you make the first step back, biting your lip at the sadness resurfacing in his eyes. Jaehyun, you think. The only man you’ve ever entrusted your heart with like this.

“Okay,” he finally answers, helpless. He holds on to your hand, though, making the last few steps to follow you before he is forced to let you go. You turn back at the last second before you enter the main hall, just to see if he is looking away, but there he stands, watching you.

His face is forlorn, softened by his quiet sadness, and your heart breaks again. You leave him there before you can do something else you regret.

When Jaehyun had fallen in love you, he knew he was in for some deep shit.

Picking you up had become a natural habit now. You had long since stopped calling your brother and instead resorted to texting Jaehyun first. It felt like an honor, to be entrusted with your care. That you’ve started to know him in a way that makes you rely on him. Picking you up had led to late-night-drives to sober you up, late-night-drives had turned into a shared breakfast the next morning when Jaehyun was worried about you having hangovers, and fussing over you had turn into regular meet-ups because Jaehyun could no longer deny that what he craved was not reassurance of your well-being, but you in person.

He remembered one morning where he had slept over after a particularly nasty crash-out. You had been laughing and weeping incoherently, your friend Karina aiding him with the information that you had failed your exam and drowned yourself in booze. He had texted DK a “FYI, your sister’s puking her guts out in my apartment” after deciding his home was closer than yours and you wouldn’t last long enough to throw up in your own toilet, before he had sat there with you and braided your hair back while you emptied out your entire stomach. The next morning, when he had woken up to you cuddled up to him still on the bathroom floor, he had carried you to his bed, tucked you in and walked into the kitchen to cook hangover soup, something he had mastered by this point due to the amount of times Mark had familiarized himself with that toilet just like you did last night. Having checked his phone, he read your brother’s only response: “LOL. didn’t even realize she left party”

You had wandered in shortly after, sleepy and pale like a ghost. The sound of your footsteps had startled Jaehyun, but his surprise had turned into a sudden happiness at the sight of your eyes lighting up when you saw him. The realization that his presence made you as happy as yours made him was invaluable. He loved the kind of person he was when you guys were together; existing felt like floating, a light cloud of pure contentment.

Even though there hadn’t been a lot of talking, you had both been deeply comfortable. That was the very first time he had kissed you; when you couldn’t stop singing his praises after claiming his soup was too tasty, he had simply leant over and shut you up himself. It was almost funny at how quickly you had dropped that spoon, tugging at his pyjama shirt to pull him closer, damn right pulling him over the counter. Not that he was complaining. He loved the way you made him feel, the way your touch made it feel like there were stars blooming below his skin. It made him feel like the brightest sun in the sky. “Why did you do that?” you had immediately asked when he finally pulled back. Jaehyun had cradled your face, realizing he was holding his entire world in the palm of his hand. “I just suddenly understood that I want to hold your hair back for you for the rest of my life,” he had admitted then, earning himself a slap to the shoulder. But you had laughed, that pure boisterous laugh that sparked with joy, and his heart had pounded in his chest: unable to handle the luck he was experiencing.

The mornings had blurred into days, the days into weeks, finally bleeding into the most happiest months of Jaehyun’s life. He’d never been cautious, but you had certainly made him braver. Sudden shenanigans in public, joking around entirely too loud during important events, having fun everywhere you guys were together. You had made him believe there were no honeymoon phases. Jaehyun woke and rose in the morning, and went to sleep in the dawn obsessed with you. There were rough patches, stressful and grieving periods when your private lives had been rocked particularly hard with a certain event, but he never once stopped adoring you. You were in every waking breath, every racing heartbeat.

Even now, as he wakes the day after your goodbye in the art gallery, he wakes up with the taste of hope in his mouth, of the shape of your heart on the tip of his tongue. He wakes still dreaming, always dreaming of you.

“So what you’re saying,” states Johnny, twirling a biscuit around in his coffee, “is that you had sex with your ex-girlfriend in a public museum, fully knowing she’s dating someone else.”

“Johnny,” comes the muffled response from where Jaehyun hides his face in his hands. It’s too beautiful of a day. It should be raining, to reflect Jaehyun’s mood, to encompass this entirely too awkward feeling of knowing Jaehyun was still in love with his ex. He had spent the entire morning racking his brain for ideas to get rid of the other man, feeling like Lana del Rey in her worst situationships. Jaehyun has reached a very new low, the kind of pathetic that makes him not care that he’s embarrassing himself by still being at your beck-and-call. “It wasn’t sex.”

Johnny waves the retort away. “Oral sex, then. Still sex.” The comment is too loud and earns Johnny some weirded-out looks, but the man looks completely unbothered. He had once watched Johnny talk about different sex positions completely seriously while standing in line for gelato in Little Italy, back when they had visited New York together. Johnny Suh did not know what shame was. “I never even knew you were freaky like that. Little exhibitionist freak. Maybe I underestimated you.”

“Johnny,” Jaehyun deadpanned. “Is this the time to be making jokes? Can we get to the point?”

“What point, dude? You basically went on your knees and asked her to take you back, and she didn’t. I didn’t realize you wanted me to throw salt into the wound.”

Jaehyun lowers his head to the tabletop, resting his too warm face against the metal surface. He doesn’t dare close his eyes, because the image of you is burned into his eyelids. He feels like an addict itching for a quick fix. It had been like this the entire week now. It was one thing to be ghosted by you and forced to move on by the lack of interaction, and another to be making out with you and getting his hopes up despite the fact you told him this was the last time. All it did was make him delusional enough to think he could convince you for it not to be. “She didn’t say no,” he tells Johnny, sounding pitiable even to him. “She just told me this had to be the last time.”

A few seconds pass before Jaehyun finally raises his head due to the lack of answer from his best friend. The look Johnny gives him tells him is answer enough, and Jaehyun pulls a grimace. He hadn’t expected of Johnny to be feeding into his delusions, but there had been some hope. Hope for you to call. Hope for you to come back. Hope for you to still want him.

You hadn’t unfollowed him yet; you hadn’t posted in days; and your brother has kindly snitched to him that you’ve even been blowing off Junseo. He knows you have finals coming up soon, but thinking rationally was something Jaehyun severely lacked at the moment. He had been entertaining the idea that the … meeting, for a lack of better words, in the museum had shaken you up as much as it did him. He kept replaying the memory in his head, the way your plush thighs had trapped him there on his knees, your pretty lips jutted in a pout, the tears falling from your eyes from the way he was making you feel so good … he almost felt himself get hard again, but quickly killed the boner by thinking of something else. “I just wish she’d be more clear,” he sighs out. At the sight of Johnny raising his eyebrows, he clarifies: “I mean that she’s playing hot and cold with me. I’m not stupid enough to not realize she does want to put an end to this. And yet she’s the one that followed me on Instagram, and kissed me, and made me fall all over again for her. I wasn’t doing well before I saw her again, but I was going somewhere.”

“Somewhere,” Johnny repeats, his tone mocking, but then he sets down the biscuit that had come with his coffee. This is what Jaehyun liked about him the most. He considered everything and thought about everything carefully before giving his honest opinion, and even though he sure as hell wasn’t unbiased, he still tried his best to be. “I guess,” Johnny concurs then. “I guess that’s true. I just think there must be a reason to this. I haven’t known her half as long as you do, but we were friends once, and she never once acted as irrationally as she did this past year.”

Jaehyun perked up at that. It was true, at least. In the weeks leading up to your break-up, as well as the months afterwards, you had been acting incredibly off, to the point that even your close ones had been questioning your case. He hadn’t realized how keen Johnny’s observations could be. “So you think she’s going through something that she couldn’t tell me?” he asks, his voice tentative.

Johnny shrugs. “That sounds like the most logical explanation to me. So you either hook up with her again and question her while you’re at it, or you start looking up ways to get rid of Junseo, I guess.” The suggestion makes Johnny’s face light up with excitement. “Dude, I actually always wanted to hire an assassin on the dark web. Do you think we can do that?”

“No, you idiot,” Jaehyun hisses back. But the gears in his head are already turning, chipping away at the past year, at your secret glances and your guilty letter and the sadness in your eyes when you had let him go. He had always thought that even though you had been decisive, you had at least been sad for not being able to love him in the way he deserved to be loved anymore. now he wonders how selfish he has been, and whether he should have been texting his ex all along instead of grieving what was.

Well. Jaehyun thought it couldn’t hurt to try.

Jeonghan sees him before you do.

It’s the way your best friend immediately starts cackling and turns back around to walk back into the library. You halt in your movements, looking at him imploringly. “Your ex, dude,” he tells you, visibly enjoying the way you immediately enter full-panic-mode. “You’re on your own.”

Your panicked “Hannie!” is drowned out by his snickers, and Jeonghan leaves you to your distress to pretend going to the bathroom. You met Jeonghan years ago, and even though he was older than you, you had become such fast friends that DK threatened to beat you guys up for laughing too loud whenever you were over at their dorms. He was your stupid older unnecessary brother that loved you more than anything, but he is also the most brutally honest one out of all of your friends. You do not go to Jeonghan for advice if you aren’t able to handle the truth. He cuts to the chase real quick and will call you out on your bullshit.

It’s also why he immediately told you that your plan wasn’t going to work out. “Let’s not pretend this is the most lovey-dovey you’ve ever been in your life,” Jeonghan had told you with a straight face. You wince at the memory; Jeonghan’s words are able to tear down buildings. “You love-love that man. You’re in deep, deep shit. Whatever it is you don’t want to tell me about, the thing that made you think up this idiotic plan in the first place, it won’t be able to amount to the feelings you have for him.”

Yes, you love-love him; you know just as much, and your heart sings with that knowledge. It pinches and tingles beneath your ribs, calling out a certain name. It rejoices at the sight of Jaehyun out there, in the rain, wearing not even a jacket but instead jeans and a hoodie that looks large even on him, and a bouquet in his hands. But you love him enough not to want to be selfish enough to endanger him.

The messages had blown up your instant message box for weeks then, each threat becoming more explicit. At first, you had resorted to deleting them. They were all the same at their core, anyways, the same hatred being spewed with different names. But then one persistent account had started attaching pictures to their messages, waking you up from the rose-tinted dream that was being in love with Jaehyun. Pictures of him at private events, including the other band members as well, even the youngest ones who were innocent. You hadn’t responded, but the fear had you making hasty plans; setting up everything carefully, writing the letter, while you prepared to leave Jaehyun in the most respectful way you could imagine because that is what you owed him. But then pictures of his own rented studio inside SM building had started popping up, a room you knew no one but Jaehyun and his aides should have access to, one single message with one ominous threat: Leave him or I’ll ruin the both of you. His life’s work being killed will be your fault.

Your lack of answer surely had made them furious.

You didn’t know whether to approach the managers, or even the police. Stalkers weren’t unheard of in the industry, one being caught and sued almost weekly by now, and Jaehyun had cycled through his fair share of them. No one had ever went for you in that way, though. You were certain that this wasn’t a singular threat, certain that this was someone who would pull out all stops to get rid of you. SM Entertainment was more tightly under lock and key than a literal jail. This person knew what they were doing. And so you did what you thought was right, at the cost of your own wellbeing. How much you had sacrificed and cried after distancing yourself from the man you considered your heart.

And yet here he was.

You shake the umbrella open before stepping out of the library, into the rain. In three quick strides, you’ve reached him. You try to convince yourself you’re just eager to be rid of him, but the corners of your lips quirk up way too happily for your brain to believe that. “Is this your equivalent of a boombox outside my window?” you question.

Jaehyun smiles, and it untangles the heavy knot of dread inside of you. The weather is awful, but you feel warm, spreading inside your chest like the soothing effects of medicine. “It kind of is,” he answers. He sounds like he is carefully weighing his words, but his voice is gentle. “I didn’t know which one your window was. And entering the building to go visit you in your apartment seemed creepy to even me.”

You tentatively reach out, brushing your fingers over the roses. They’re a deep red, plush and freshly bloomed. Expensive. Junseo has never even got you a three-dollar-bundle of flowers from the grocery store. “You know, I already have someone who’s giving me flowers,” you tell him, but the threat is empty. Every inch of you is bursting with happiness. Jaehyun is here, even though it’s the middle of the night and the weather is completely awful, just to give you roses.

(You never even make the connection someone must have told him you’re here. (DK was shitting himself for days in fear of you finding out he was the tattletale.)

Jaehyun hands you the bouquet, his hands covering your own as you grasp it. You watch him as he takes the opportunity to step closer to you, never once reprimanding him. His face is open and trusting, and the force of his loving gaze hits you right in the chest. “I know,” he retorts. “And the thought is killing me. It should be me. And so I will. I will keep buying you roses until you ask me to stop, sweetheart, because I don’t mind if you forget about me, but I was made to adore you. I can’t ignore my instincts.”

The confession does funny things to your heart, in a way that makes you beam at him for the first time in months. You haven’t smiled like this in so long, and your cheeks hurt from the lack of practise. Jaehyun, the damn fool; Jaehyun, the hopeless romantic; Jaehyun, the love of your life. “Killing you,” you muse, entertaining him. You are playing with fire, you realize, but you are coming to the understanding that even though you had made a decision for him in a completely unfair manner, because you felt threatened to do so, Jaehyun still chooses you. And he continues to choose you. He has respected your wishes, has kept his distance despite the grief you have caused him, and has only re-entered your life because you allowed him to do so. It was your own self-doubt about being the one for him that had forced your hand and made you not ask him for help about the threats; and despite the fact Jaehyun never understood why, he had still reassured you.

“Do you honestly mean that?” you ask him, even though you know what his answer will be. Even though your heart has always chosen him, this sweet boy who knew just what to say to cheer you up. Who listened when you talked. Who bought you gifts just because you mentioned liking some trinket in passing. Who remembers to kiss you every morning before you leave the house, even if it means dragging himself out of bed at 5am in the morning just to see you off because he knows he won’t see you the entire day. Who leaves little notes around the house for you to find when he is too busy to be with you. Jaehyun, your Jaehyun.

“I will always, always mean it,” he answers in the most earnest way possible. “I’ve been thinking about you all this time. I know how pathetic this sounds, but all this time, I kept envisioning you, and the thought of you kept me going even though I knew you weren’t a part of my life anymore. I like the person you made me become, sweetheart, and the way you have helped me shape my life into something I can be proud of. I just wish I had realized sooner that there was something bothering you - because there is, right?” His fingers gently squeeze yours in encouragement, and your little nod makes him press on. “I’m sorry,” he says, and surprises you. “I’m sorry for being so in love with your good and pure heart and failing to realize that it burdened you, despite how good and pure it was. You were going through something that you couldn’t handle, and I couldn’t see it, and I’m sorry.”

You tug at Jaehyun’s hands. His instantaneous, responding smile makes your heart skip a beat, and he lets you pull him down until you can press your lips to his soft, dimpled cheek. “You’re such a sore loser, Jeong Jaehyun,” you whisper then, but you loosen a hand from the bouquet and place it against his cheek to keep him there. To treasure him. “And such a sweet little idiot. You don’t have to apologize about a single thing to me.” He smells like home, like the only home you’ve ever known. Jaehyun hums, and nods in assent to the insults, and the agreement makes you laugh. You kiss his cheek again, and again, and again, until Jaehyun’s impatience makes him turn his head and kiss you so urgently that your head feels like it’s spinning. “Jaehyun,” you sigh into the kiss, feeling his teeth nip at your lower lip, feeling his hands close around your heart.

You have never felt so safe.

Jaehyun rests his forehead against yours, the pouring rain cascading around you both. “Does that mean I can kill your little boy toy now?” he asks, but you only smack him and smile shyly, your face radiant with adoration for him. “I am going to resolve some things first,” you tell him. “Until then, no murder.”

“And after that?”

“After that,” you say, “I am going to prove that my heart has always belonged to you, Jeong Jaehyun. Even when I made you doubt that.”

(For your information, Jeonghan has recorded that entire interaction and forwarded it to Johnny without context. Johnny had texted him back almost seconds later, asking, Who’s this and how’d you get my number? Hannie’s response, as you discover after he had confessed his betrayal, was I have my ways.)

Jaehyun,

I realize me writing another letter is cruel and ironic, but hear me out, please.

When I wrote my first letter, it was with the selfish intention of at least something of mine remaining with you. By the time you read this, I’ll hopefully have gathered enough evidence to explain my case to you and maybe have the guts to ask you to accompany me to the police, but what I first want to reiterate is: I love you. I love you the point of self-sacrifice. I love you enough that I turned my back on being selfless anyways and selfishly chose you, because you are the most important person in my heart. You will always come first.

When I wrote that letter to break up with you, I imagined a piece of myself embedding itself in the ink so that at least something could remain forever. In my mind, you were never ephemeral: no matter how many times I changed my paths and adjusted my future, it has always included you. I never once imagined building a life for myself that didn’t have you as its brilliant, shining center piece, the light of my life, my Jaehyun. I’ve always been afraid of falling in love head-first, always afraid of loving more than the other, but you have proven me wrong. And I love being proven wrong by you. I love the fact that you fiercely, sincerely, and lovingly pull me back to reality every time. Reality with you is more perfect than anything I could have ever dreamed of.

Since my first letter was supposed to be a goodbye, I want this letter to be proof that I choose to greet the future with you. I want this letter to be proof that I will never need a letter again. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you and telling you about it, and I will reassure you of that always, in the same manner as you have always me reassured me. You told me that my heart was good and pure, but I genuinely believe that I am constantly reflecting back what you give me: your kindness, Jae, your sincerity, your unbelievable humanity.

You are the only man I ever want roses in my life from, and that will never change. :) So if you finish reading this, stop creeping on my Instagram waiting for me to drop the other man and come bring me another bouquet so I can prove to you there has never been another. You are the only one in my heart.

With love,

your sweetheart

[ozzgin]

Is it just me or can I imagine a yandere with a darling who’s immune system and possibly everything about them just screams weak and pathetic, BUT their darling is actually very strong mentally and has and will create the most fucked up, batshit crazy inventions from what used to be harmless to something that can help them escape and possibly destroy everything in its path.

But at the end of the day, they become sleepy koalas who hug whoever is near them and fall asleep :)

This could be a request or rant, whatever you can think of! I just wanted to see how different yandere writers would interpret this small imagination of mine <3

But as always, stay safe and take care! everyone needs a break some time to time~

Sorry, but the moment I read the Darling's description, I instantly thought of Dr. Finkelstein from Nightmare Before Christmas. You know, Sally's inventor. 😭 So let me quickly write this down while I'm in my Shelley vibes, because I like the idea a lot. With a little twist, if you don't mind. :)

Yandere! Monster x Inventor! Reader

A frail inventor, and their affectionate rag doll that has been carefully stitched together for the purpose of a caregiver. An artificial existence, trapped within the confines of your lonely tower. Or so you might think.

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, obsessive behavior

"I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel..." [Frankenstein]

You dangle an old, rusty bell for a good minute before leaning back in your chair. The barely audible chimes are quickly swallowed by the loud, mechanical groans of the gears and engines occupying most of this room. No matter, his ears are good. You picked them yourself. And surely enough, within moments, the door to your laboratory opens and someone cautiously walks in.

A tall, slender man. Or rather, something meant to resemble a man. The skin is a clumsy patchwork of blues and grays - you're no talented seamster, sadly - gathering together the body parts in what feels like a parodic attempt at mimicking God and his image. You gaze at the creature approaching you with a tray of tea and sweets. Scarcely your best work, if you must adhere to honesty. Regardless of the quality of your labor at the time of creation, you are proud of the result. How could you not be? You know this man better than you know yourself. Every organ, every artificial nerve cord, every blemish and stitch of his body was placed according to your intentions. A masterfully detailed project that took you years to complete; not an easy feat considering the lamentable state of your health.

"Here's your deadly nightshade tea." The man places a small, porcelain cup on the desk. "Do let me know when I should take you to bed, (Y/N)." You wave your hand dismissively and stretch out your limbs. "Not yet. I am almost finished", you respond, returning to the mound of metal scraps and pipes before you. "Can I ask what you're making?" The pale creature lowers himself to your level, a curious smile plastered on his face. "It's a mechanical heart", you reveal boastfully. "Like the one I have?" You run your hand through the creature's hair affectionately. "Almost. I'm testing out a different way to build the valves, for a more efficient pumping cycle." You continue to explain the intricacies of your novel mechanism, occasionally sipping on your tea. "Who knows, you might have a sibling in the near future."

The man's smile drops in an instant, and his sunken eyes widen at your statement. "What? Am I- am I not enough?" You glance at the creature as he becomes increasingly frantic. "Don't speak nonsense. If it comes out alright, I'll upgrade your own parts as well. I'm a disciple of scientific virtue, of continuous improvement." Nonsense? Vile treachery! You might've chiseled the brain that throbs within the walls of his skull, but his mind is his alone, and you seem to lack a fundamental understanding of his feelings and thoughts. His ardent confessions of love are met with mockingly pitiful grins, in the way a parent soothes a needy child. Even now, your eyes reflect nothing more than sympathy towards his protest. A childish tantrum is what you're most likely thinking. You've no time for emotional bagatelles. He can read you like an open book.

You simply won't understand. There is no place for a stranger in the life he's crafted with his very own hands: you, and him, and the evening tea with a side of butterscotch biscuits, and the bedtime talks, and the stripped branches of the decaying tree that rap at the windows on stormy nights. You might be the Inventor, but he is not just a mere, humble servant, a rag doll to be tossed around or toyed with. As you will soon discover, after all.

You awaken in the midst of night with your temples burning from a much too familiar headache. Although it's not just the pain that has disturbed your slumber. You can hear rattles and thuds coming from the upstairs laboratory. An intruder? Oh, your creations! The sound of glass breaking and metal scraping sends you into spiraling despair. You fumble to reach the nightstand, patting the surface in search for the bell and keys. You shake the handle in a panic, unable to find anything else in the darkness.

The chaotic rustle abruptly stops, followed by descending footsteps. You hold your breath as the chamber door opens, but it's none other than your creature. "Another flare-up? Shall I bring you some medicine?" the man asks with monotonous courtesy. "What have you been doing? What's all that noise?" you demand, agitated, but upon lifting yourself off the mattress you discover your legs are numb and uncooperative. The man hurries to your bed with a worried frown, and you hear the familiar clatter of the keychain coming from one of his pockets. "Have you taken my keys? Cease this foolishness at once!" Indifferent to your reproach, he places a firm hold on your shoulders and forces you back down, tucking you in effortlessly.

"You must forgive my impertinence." he says in a pleading tone. "I do not wish to impede the works of your genius. As your partner, however, it is my duty to prevent you from making mistakes." You furrow your eyebrows at his words. "What mistakes? My invention was flawless!", you argue fervently. "Indeed it was, but not its purpose. What need have you for another being?" It is the creature's turn for a passionate speech. He stands up with a confidence you don't recognize and continues: "You should know by now that I am fit to perform any role. That of your servant, your caregiver, your lover, or anything else you may desire. You can resume your tinkering starting tomorrow, but such blasphemies to our bond as the one today will not be tolerated." He straightens his vest and reaches for the door handle. "I will prepare some tea to help you rest."

Inconceivable. Your own creation, built with your own hands...Has something escaped your attention? His dialogue is deranged, tainted by madness. "Have I done something wrong?" you mumble to yourself, deep in contemplation. "Nonsense." the creature turns to face you briefly. "It was you who created me after all. Everything is perfectly splendid."

[literaryvein-reblogs]

How to Write a Character

For creative writing to have as deep an impact as possible, you need to give the reader strong characters they can relate to on a personal level.

By borrowing from tried-and-true character archetypes and giving them your personal spin, you can create heroes, villains, and sidekicks that will affect your readers as if they were real people they knew.

Come up with a backstory

Crafting a backstory can help you flesh out an interesting character profile.

“When I’m dealing with characters,” says legal thriller author David Baldacci, “and I’m trying to explain somebody's situation and motivations, you have to look into their past, because [the] past always drives motivations.”

Ask what experiences your character had in elementary school or high school that shaped who they are today. Your character’s backstory can greatly inform your plot.

Develop a character arc

A character must evolve throughout a story.

“The character has to change,” insists crime fiction writer Walter Mosley. “The character doesn’t have to become better. The character doesn’t have to become good. It could be the opposite. He could start good and become bad. He could start off hopeful and end up a pessimist. But he has to be impacted by this world that we’re reading about.”

Plan out your storyline based on your character's goals and how achieving or not achieving them will change them as people. This sort of template can help anchor your narrative.

Do research

If you plan to set your story in a specific locale or period, do enough research to make your characters seem true to life and believable.

“What does it mean, for instance, in the Tudor era to be a male person?” asks Margaret Atwood, author of The Handmaid’s Tale. “What does it mean to be a female person? What do those things mean when they’re at different social levels?”

Empathize with your characters

No matter what the type of character you’re developing, try to find some reason you and your reader can relate to their internal conflict.

“You’re living with these people every single day for months at a time—in some cases, years at a time,” says acclaimed children���s author Judy Blume. “You had better feel for them. So, for me, yes, I have great empathy for them.”

When people can empathize with characters, they’re more likely to find them compelling.

Experiment with different approaches

If you usually write characters from a particular point of view (or POV), change things up to challenge yourself.

“Write about someone entirely through the eyes of their friends and family,” suggests journalist Malcolm Gladwell. “So do a profile of someone where you deliberately never talk to the person that you’re profiling.”

There are plenty of ways to craft compelling character descriptions—free yourself up to try new alternatives.

Give your characters flaws

To craft believable characters, you need to give them flaws.

“One, it makes the characters human, just by default, because everybody recognizes that we all have flaws and mistakes,” David says. “But two, it gives you plot elements and plot opportunities because somebody makes a mistake. Why? Because they’re flawed.”

Learn from real people

Pay attention to real people’s mannerisms, personality traits, body language, and physical appearances.

Do research, and be respectful, when you want to write characters with backgrounds that you are not familiar with. Become familiar with different people's cultures, sexual orientations etc.

Talking to people about their experiences will help form your character’s personality.

Let your characters surprise you

Character development can proceed down a host of different avenues.

“Spend a lot of time with your characters and getting to know them,” Judy suggests. “And the way that you get to know them can be different from the way I get to know them. But my way is: They don’t come alive until I write about them, until I put them down on paper.”

As you write, your character’s motivation or perspective might change from what you originally planned.

Play characters off each other

Ask yourself how a secondary character’s personality might thwart the main character’s motivation.

“One of the best ways, as I said, to develop a character is to put that character in relationship to another person,” Walter says. “So as they talk, as they fight, as they work together, we find out more about who they are and what they are.”

The character’s close friends, adversaries, and acquaintances might all have different effects on their behavior.

Take an organic approach

Over the course of the story, be ready for your characters to surprise you as much as the people you know in real life might, too.

Your characters may take on a life of their own.

Avoid static characters by letting yours have their own lives and personalities. Let their stories take you where they lead.

[lueurjun]

f1 driver!boyfriend heeseung.

request — if you are accepting requests i was thinking maybe something like formula one driver heeseung x reader where they travel to support him at his races all around the world, and also watching their boyfriend become world champion at the end of the season? thank you <3 !! 🎀

eek ! sorry this took so long. i have been in a deep writers block. but i hope you enjoy this lovely <3 this is long, my bad… i got carried away because i loved writing this. i had so much fun im not even kidding, i think i’m going to turn this into a written series for heeseung.

refer to this edit for the vibes—it has me in a chokehold and gave me the motivation for this.

rocking back and forth because ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

LEE HEESEUNG?? FORMULA ONE DRIVER?

SEDATE ME ! I NEED THIS

ahem anyways :)

heeseung’s career began at eight years old when his parents finally gave in and allowed him to start go karting.

f1 was his dream! he had posters in his room. miniature car figurines in a glass case that he didn’t let anybody touch. he sat for every race, knew every driver and owned so much merch that his mother had to hide her credit card

it’s giving maddy knew who she was from a young age- it’s giving obsession- it’s giving me with my enhypen obsession-

it was clear from the get go that this kid had some talent. he knew what he was doing and he knew how to do it better than anyone else

though he’s always been a little bit of a shit talker and ended up in several friendly feuds with other upcoming drivers.

lmao can you imagine 8 year old heeseung bickering with max verstappen?

as he grew older, he began competing in various competitions, and won the majority of them which opened up the doors to competing internationally

years later, he secures a position in F3 and gradually works his way up to F2. eventually, he makes it into F1 as one of the most promising drivers, under the guidance of red bull

now let’s introduce you

*louder than heeseung* hey 😘😉

you met Heeseung at one of his karting races when he was 15. instantly recognizing his potential, you had him sign your phone case, insisting that he was going to be famous one day and you wanted to sell it on ebay when he did.

absolute icon if you ask me

he thought you were being ridiculous, but he couldn't help but feel flattered by your confidence. after signing your phone case, he surprised you by asking for your number.

and who are you to pass up on the opportunity to keep in touch with a soon to be famous racer?

i can race faster than him just sayin ✋🙂‍↔️🤚 broom broom

the two of you remained in touch, and you attended as many races as possible to support him as a best friend. two years later, just as he secured a seat in F2, heeseung nervously asked you to be his partner.

which, of course, you were more than happy to.

now, onto present day: f1 driver heeseung with you, his beloved partner.

not you in your wag era-

i genuinely see you owning a tiktok account where you kinda just post daily grwms or vlogs which feature heeseung and your life travelling with him

and everybody eats it up because they get to see the human side of heeseung not just the aggressive driver that shit talks everything and everyone

yes i’m making him a sassy shit talker because i want to SUE ME

you kinda prove to his haters that he’s actually a huge nerd with the cutest personality, which garners him a lot more support

his team ADORES you for this

but it’s also really funny because why is the p2 winner, cocky red bull driver giving your followers a haul on all of his toy story merch?

his helmet is definitely custom designed as buzz lightyear and i find that absolutely adorable

he also has your initial on his helmet somewhere that everyone thinks is so sickeningly cute

he calls it his good luck charm

you receive some hate with jealous people accusing you of only wanting his money and fame

haters come outside i’m not gonna do anything. haha. i just wanna talk ( and set their hair on fire ) just a lil chit chat 😃

but for the most part, you are actually very much adored

if fans see you walking around, they call out for you to take pics with them

which you do, albeit with a little hesitance, as you’re not used to the spotlight and don’t quite understand why people idolise you.

ummmm because you’re perfect🫶 hope this helps

in this scenario, you’re a full time influencer which makes it easy for you to travel alongside him and attend all of his races

which is good because you couldn’t make his japan gp due to an issue and he damn near lost his mind

bro was STRESSING

i would be too if i had u and had to deal with a couple days without u 🫶

he made it everyone’s issue

his team were so tired of him that they sent you multiple texts begging for you to get on a flight

he was so sassy during his interviews and the viewers immediately knew it was because you weren’t there

‘bringy/nback’ trended with memes making fun of him for being a brat without you there

he finished really badly that weekend

bro relies on you fr

when you eventually returned at his side for his next race

he was back to his angelic self

you made him apologize to all the team

imagine you stood behind him with your arms crossed, shaking your head while he sheepishly apologises in front of everyone for being difficult HAHHAHA

he was all smiles in his interview and got p1 because he was eager to impress you

gigglin and kickin my feet BECAUSE HES SO CUTE

and you’re stood in the paddock, watching with the biggest grin on your face

when the podium celebration rolls around, you’re front row and he makes sure you get hit with some champagne with the biggest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen

he ruined your very expensive outfit but you didn’t have it in you to be mad

i would never do that to you personally- just saying, your clothes would always be in pristine condition if you were with me… just sayin ✋😌🤚

when the two of you leave literally anywhere, he gets swarmed by fans

tells them to wait a second, and gets you to the car safely before he jogs over to sign some stuff

if you can’t get to the car, he makes sure your hand is in his, keeping you close whilst he signs things

he’s always hyper aware of your safety in public

if you’re instantly met with flashing lights, he will either cover your eyes or take off his hat and put it on your head to shield you

your safety always comes before his

also can we talk about your fashion?

you always dress to impress, never a bad outfit day

pfft is anyone surprised? you’re literally gods gift to earth- MOVE HEESEUNG

travel days are always so tiring for heeseung

which is when you become the protective one

holding him protectively whilst you both wait for your flight

running your hands through his hair

he holds you so tight; he doesn’t care who sees or about getting teased by his fellow drivers

when you’re finally in the air, whether it be private jet or not, you always make yourself into a personal pillow for him

it could be the cushiest flight known to man, and you’d still be his pillow

that should be me fr

he sleeps like a baby the whole time

and you don’t mind because you know he needs it

in the days leading up to the championship, he becomes…

unbearable? whiny? annoying? come here, i’d never- sorry sorry 😔

tense…

his stress levels are through the roof and nothing really helps other than just letting him be

he’s snappier than usual, but after many years together, you’ve learned to let it go

because you know this is a huge deal for him and he always apologises afterwards

the only thing you can really do is serve as his support and try to relax him as best as you can

like couple spa days when his schedule isn’t crammed

sightseeing to enjoy the beautiful country

even lying in your hotel room the night before, reminiscing about your relationship and his journey to becoming one of the best

you’d feel his heartbeat beneath your back which would be pressed up against him

his shaky breaths against the side of your neck as he pressed nervous kisses beneath your ear, nibbling slightly on the lobe

god… i’ve seen what you’ve done for others

“will you still love me if i don’t win tomorrow?”

you can tell he’s straddling the line between joking and genuinely needing reassurance

so, you do what you always do

you turn, cup both of his cheeks in your palms, and press your forehead against his

“you look funny.”

he’d giggle, and you’d start wiggling your eyebrows to make him laugh harder

and he always does, because to him, you’re the funniest person he’s ever met

then, you’d scrunch up your nose and gently sweep it against his, eventually leaving a kiss on the bridge.

“i will love you no matter what. even if you wake up tomorrow and decide that you want to quit, i will love you. even if you decide to walk away from it all, i will love you. because at the end of the day, it’s not the trophies that matter or the podiums. it’s you. you, you, you! your happiness, your peace of mind. you are my greatest achievement; you are my championship win. and i will love you until my heart beats its last pump of blood.”

if you look closely, you can see me drowning in the shower-

a million kisses are shared that night before the two of you finally slip into a steady sleep

when the next morning rolls around, heeseung doesn’t talk much as he gets himself ready for the race

you’re a bundle of nerves as you follow behind him, hand clutched in his own

pre race cuddles are a must in his little rest room

there’s not much talking, heeseung quite likes his silence to gather his mind and enter his racing headspace

but his hold on you, and the way he looks at you speaks for itself. you don’t need his words to know that he loves you and he wants to win not only for himself or red bull, but you.

“if we win this, i’ll give you my helmet to sell on ebay. i think it would go nicely with the signature i gave you at 15.”

your heart quite literally melts into a puddle at the memory

you grin, peppering a bunch of kisses all over his face until you finally land on his lips, soaking in the pre race nerves and savouring the taste of nutella from his pancakes he had that morning

“oh, i am going to be absolutely loaded.”

the two of you share a laugh, knowing silently that you’d never sell it on ebay because it’s tucked away in your memory box, where it will stay until you’re grey and old

a piece of the past where the two of you very first met

the peace drains from the room as though a plug had been pulled from the bathtub, with tension and nerves flooding in

look at me getting all poetic 😌

heeseung doesn’t let go of your hand until he absolutely has to

leaving you alongside his family members with a kiss so passionate it left your mind reeling

his mother grabs your hand after sharing her own moment with him, and the two of you hold on tight to the hope that he’s going to win

the race is tense, you’re almost in tears from the chaos and the nerves

your heart feels like it’s seconds from stopping as the end to the final lap approaches with heeseung in close second

he’s going to overtake, and you’re not quite sure whether your heart could handle it

STOP WHY IS MY HEART POUNDING AS IF IM THERE PLS

you grip onto his mother, the two of you holding onto each other in anticipation

it happens within seconds, you barely have time to process it

heeseung overtakes, barely missing the Ferrari car as he does so

several seconds later, your world stops as the red bull team bursts into celebration

someone is shaking you, gripping onto you with pure elation but everything is in slow motion

heeseung just won the world championship

your heeseung just won

nah because why am i crying? someone take my laptop i’m far too into this

you choke out a sob, allowing his mother to cradle you in her arms with tears flowing down her own cheeks

you’re a crying mess, blubbering proudly and unable to make sense of anything

you don’t even care that the camera is on you, displaying your reaction for everyone to see

“he did it!”

“he absolutely did!”

you don’t know how much time has passed before he’s running towards you, yanking the helmet off

there’s no time to process anything before he sweeps you up into his arms, pressing kisses all over your skin wherever his lips could fit

he holds you like you’re the trophy, lifting you up proudly like a medal

tears cascade down your cheeks like a summer waterfall, while warmth and joy spread through you

he did it. he actually did it.

“get that helmet signed, boy. i’m gonna be rich!”

[writingquestionsanswered]

Not to be a downer, but I actually finished my novel and now I’m confused because I don’t want to publish it. I don’t even particularly want anyone other than maybe my two close friends to even read it. What on Earth did I write 40k words (which I know is not really long enough for a novel, but it’s still far and away the longest thing I’ve ever written) for? I know people say “write for yourself” but like… am I just wasting my time? Help?

(p.s. you can leave this off anon)

(p.p.s your blog is really great 👍)

There's No Such Thing as Wasted Writing

I'm going to tackle this two ways...

#1 - "Write For Yourself" - there's a reason this common phrase has echoed through the Hall of Writers since time immemorial. It's because it's true! Writing doesn't have to be anything more than a pastime. It doesn't have to be anything more than something you do for your own benefit and enjoyment.

I have an in-joke with family members about how any time one of us does something the least bit crafty, DIY, skilled, whatever, a particular family member will always say, "You did a great job! You should do it for a living!" Like, someone can't even crochet a Kawaii mushroom without being pressured to turn it into an Etsy dynasty, or paint a cabinet without being pressured to become the next Property Brothers. And that's such a BANANAS capitalistic mindset, isn't it? This idea that nothing can be done purely for our own enjoyment. That you can't just write a novel because you want to... you can only write it if you plan to share it or publish it? It's just so silly.

And, the thing is, we don't even apply that mentality to a lot of other things people do purely for enjoyment. No one is streaming all of Bridgerton in two nights and saying, "I enjoyed every second of that, but why did I do that? Such a waste of time!" No one spends an hour strumming their guitar under the stars on a beach, and then says, "That was so relaxing and fun, but I didn't charge for that performance and I didn't record it to sell it, so that was obviously a waste of time."

You know what I mean?

#2 - And Anyway, Practice Makes Perfect - And if you keep writing--even if you continue not to share or publish--you'll get better and better with each story you write. Which, maybe all that means is you get to appreciate your own improvement, but also, should you ever change your mind and decide to write something to share or publish, you've now spent time honing your skills. Even if those other stories never see the light of day, they're still an important foundation of the writer you become. Do you know how many unpublished novellas, novels, and short stories I have? Too many to count. Hundreds of fan-fiction and original fiction short stories I've only shared with one or two other people, if anyone. A dozen or so novels and novellas that have only been read by a few people, and some haven't been read by anyone else or have only been read by my CPs. I would never consider those stories and novels and novellas to be a waste of time, because I know every single one made me a better writer. My published work is better because I wrote those other things.

So, I hope that makes you feel better. At the very least you hopefully enjoyed writing your novel--or at least got something out of it--and you definitely honed your writing skills, which matters! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[harmonicakai]

Like Real People Do

Pairing: Gyuvin x Reader

Summary: You find yourself falling for the cute boy whose writing assignments you proofread, and discover that your lives have been intertwined for longer than you thought.

Tropes: tutor!reader, basketball player!gyuvin, writers, soulmates, college AU, fluff

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: literally none it’s so cute

A/N: This is a formal apology for my Beomgyu angst <3

“And isn't it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me?” —Invisible String, Taylor Swift

Gyuvin certainly doesn’t need any help with English, but it gives him a good excuse to spend time in between classes and basketball practice staring at you.

If anything, your talents would be better suited to helping one of his classmates understand all the old poems or crazy novels that they get assigned, but he’s the one who lucked out when your former professor suggested you read her most promising student’s work.

From the first draft, you were hooked, and had somehow started a writer’s circle where just the two of you meet weekly to share your works in progress. 

In no time, you’ve helped Gyuvin become one of the top students in Writing 101, and he’s worried you’ll notice that he’d be just fine if you stopped helping him. Still, the A’s keep rolling in and you keep meeting up with him anyway.

When Gyuvin’s latest short story gets nominated for a departmental prize, you’re over the moon for him.

“You are so amazing,” you smile up at him. “We should celebrate! That’s a really big deal. I was nominated last year, but didn’t come close to winning.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he points out, looking down at the ground and rubbing the back of his neck. “Really, Y/N. If I win, it would be just as much your prize as it would be mine.”

“Don’t be silly,” you say, packing up the rest of your lunch. You usually only see him in the library at your designated meeting time, but today, he sought you out in the courtyard to make sure you were the first person he told. “I’m just the editor. All of the ideas came from you. Plus, I’m only good at English because I grew up speaking it. It’s much more impressive for you to have learned it recently and write at the level that you do.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Y/N,” he replies, helping you up off your picnic blanket. Before you can do it yourself, he’s already reaching down to fold it, his long arms handling the fabric with ease. “You’d write circles around me any day.”

“I don’t want to get into another compliment war,” you giggle, swinging your backpack over your shoulder. Recently, it’s been filled with way too many books, and your classes are so jam-packed that you never have time to run back to your room in between them.

“Here, Y/N, let me,” he says, taking your backpack from you. He’s already got his own on, but he wears yours over his front, barely even flinching at the extra weight. “Where are you headed next? I’m done with my classes for the day, so I can walk you.”

He’s always been desperate to ask you to hang out outside of your brainstorming sessions, but every time he thinks he’s worked up the courage, you’ll laugh or smile or even just glance at him and his brain short circuits.

“I have a music class across campus in thirty minutes,” you reply. “Don’t you live the other way, though? You really don’t have to walk me. It’s pretty far.”

“I want to,” Gyuvin reassures you. He offers his hand. “Here. I walk pretty fast, so let’s make sure I don’t leave you behind.”

You hesitate for a moment before taking it. You’ve had a crush on Gyuvin ever since the two of you first crossed paths—he’s the literal embodiment of sunshine trapped inside a cute boy—but things have only ever been friendly between the two of you.

His hand is big, wrapping itself around yours almost entirely. The walk is silent, although you swear you can hear your heart about to beat out of your chest as you pull him along your usual route. Gyuvin makes sure to always let you lead.

“You know,” you start, still not looking back at him. “We’re kind of like Orpheus and Eurydice right now.”

Gyuvin lights up at the reference, with mythology being one of the first things you two really bonded over. “If you looked back at me, the only thing I’d probably die of is how cute you are, Y/N.”

You’re glad you’re turned away so he can’t see the bright blush that’s spread across your cheeks. His words get you so flustered that you don’t even notice you’ve stopped walking.

“Did I say something wrong?” Gyuvin asks, his voice laced with concern. He moves to face you, your height difference causing him to crane his neck down. Meanwhile, your gaze is locked on your shoes.

“Gyuvin,” you say, still refusing to meet his eye. You pull him over to a nearby bench. “Remember when I said I liked the love story you wrote the other day?”

“Yeah, I remember,” he confirms. “You complimented me on how realistic it was and I told you it was only because I based it off of real life.”

“Was it…” your words catch in your throat, unable to face the embarrassment of if you’re wrong. “Was it about us?”

“Yes,” he admits almost immediately. You finally turn to face him, greeted by a nervous look. “Listen, Y/N. I only wrote it because I knew you’d read it, and I thought maybe if you saw how good characters that were a lot like us could be together, you’d give me a chance in real life. But you didn’t really notice, or maybe you just wanted to ignore it, so I kind of abandoned all hope of us ever being together.”

You blink back at him. How could you be so oblivious? Your entire major was based on analyzing words, and you couldn’t even see that he wanted to be with you so badly that he had to write it into existence.

Words always come easy to you, except at this very moment.

“You abandoned all hope?” is all you can manage to get out. You try to pull your hand away, but he only grips it tighter.

“I tried,” Gyuvin says, his voice soft. “But you’re all I ever think about. I honestly don’t think I’ll ever be capable of writing someone who even comes close to how wonderful I think you are, Y/N. There just aren’t words to describe all the ways in which you’re special to me.”

You laugh, his words making tears well up in your eyes. “You know, I used to go to basketball games a lot before we even met, just so I wouldn’t have to feel so lonely all the time. And I remember liking your smile and the way you always encouraged your teammates. I would go home and wish I had someone like you in my life.”

“You’re kidding,” he says, taking out his wallet. You knit your brows in confusion, watching as he pulls out a small piece of paper and unfolds it. “Here.”

He hands it to you and your eyes widen at the words printed out. It’s the poem that you had published in the school’s literary magazine last spring about wanting to romanticize your life. Talking about your feelings makes you anxious, but nobody reads those publications. Except for Gyuvin, apparently.

“I liked you before we even met, too,” Gyuvin confesses. “Your poem is actually the reason I got into writing in the first place. I used to read it before all of my games, but I know all the words by heart now, so I just keep it in my wallet for good luck.”

This all feels too good to be true, but his touch keeps you grounded in reality.

“Maybe I should start coming to basketball games again, then,” you think out loud. “I stopped going because I felt awkward not knowing anybody.”

“Well, now you’d know me, and I’ll make sure the whole team gets to know you, too, okay?” The way he smiles at you, his eyes so full of light, takes your breath away.

“Really?” you ask, looking at him in disbelief. The thought of meeting so many new people at the same time scares you, but if Gyuvin likes them, you’re sure you will too.

“On one condition,” he says, closing the gap between the two of you. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his hand settling on your cheek. “I get to introduce you as my girlfriend.”

“Deal,” you grin, inching closer until your lips are pressed against his. You’re nervous that he’ll somehow figure out that you’ve only ever read about kissing in books, but the way he melts into you tells you that he doesn’t mind.

“You’re going to be late for class,” Gyuvin reminds you, pulling away. He desperately wants to keep going, but not at the expense of your grades.

“Class can wait,” you say, leaning in for another kiss. Your fingers lace themselves through his soft, messy hair. “I said we’d celebrate your nomination, so let’s celebrate.”

[ja3hwa]

☜𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑☞

October is finally here. The month where Fanfic writers run wild with their ideas and fantasies. This is my first time writing this event, and I was honestly so stressed but very excited about it. So, without further ado, let's get started. ♥︎

All works are mature, viewers be advised.

Masterlist | Navigation

—

Day 1: Car Sex - [Gloomy Days]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : A trip turned sour due to a storm. But, luckily, Yunho knows just the thing in turning this gloomy day into a more steamy one.

Day 2: Voyeurism - [Eyes On Me]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Biker Gang Leader doesn't like sharing unless it's to do with his best friend.

Day 3: Shower Sex - [Just One Moment]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : When Jongho comes from a long and stressful day, he only wants one thing... You bent over.

Day 4: Food Play - [The Sweetness Of You]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : It all started with a simple dinner and a movie. But when Seonghwa asked if you wanted dessert, you knew your sugar was about to spike from more than just the sweetness of the fruits and chocolate.

Day 5: Exhibitionism - [Dimly Lit Bathroom]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Wooyoung couldn't keep his hands off you on a regular basis. But when he sees you in such a sexy outfit, he has no choice but to drag you to the nearest bathroom.

Day 6: Rough/Possessive sex - [Whoops]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You wanted to show your hot-headed lover that you could protect yourself. And what better way than to go looking for his number on rival....

Day 7: Thigh riding/dry humping - [Dedicated To You]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You sweet producer boyfriend wanted to share something with you. But your neediness had other plans.

Day 8: Sensory Deprivation - [He Has Control]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were his work of art, and he loved to watch you squirm under him.

Day 9: Cock Warning - [Pure Relaxation]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Jongho kept losing over and over again. Becoming increasingly more frustrated as time passes, it's a good thing you are here to help him cool off.

Day 10: Bondage - [Pretty Boy]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : It's Yeosangs turn to know what it feels like to have rope pull and tug on his beautiful skin, and he can't help my whimper at the sheer idea of it.

Day 11: Bike Sex/Edging - [A Ride That To Last A Lifetime]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Yeosang had begged for weeks for you to go for a ride with him... Cavinging in, you finally realize how pleasurable it is to ride his bike.

Day 12: Size Kink/Size Difference - [Why So Tense?]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your two professors want nothing more than to help you with your studies. Personally gifting you some private lessons...

Day 13: Breath Play - [Make You Mine]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : San can't help but send death glares to any man that tried to have your attention for too long. Too bad you dont belong to him...yet.

Day 14: Marking/Biting - [Intoxicated]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your friend needed your help with trying out one of her experiments and let's just say Mingi was about to never let you leave the bedroom ever again because of it.

Day 15: Corruption - [God isn't here]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Bad Boy Hongjoong wanted to change for you. Be the better man you deserved, but what if you ended up changing more than him?

Day 16: Spit Play - [Love, Lust Has No Bounds]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were in love with the enemy, and oh, how it was it exciting.

Day 17: Fingering/Squirting - [Move]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You needed him, any part of him. But Seonghwa wanted to see you squirm. To see you cry and beg for him to satisfy you.

Day 18: Toys/Mirror sex - [The Perfect Gift]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Hongjoong couldn't decide what gift to buy you while we was traveling. So he bought them all and now wants you to try them out. Every. Single. One.

Day 19: Dacryphillia/Clit Play - [Prove It]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Late night conversations aren't suppose to end in sex... right?

Day 20: Sex pollen - [Out Of This World]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were gifted an alien plant from one of your friends that lived off the planet since you loved greenery. Little did anyone know the pollen had some weird side effects when inhaled.

Day 21: Temperature Play - [Cold To The Touch]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your undead lover had finally come back from a late night hunt, finding you shivering from the winter weather. But do not fret, as he was...skilled in keeping others warm-ish.

Day 22: Double Penetration - [New Member]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You're the newest member to join one of the most famous rock bands. And luckily for you they are all hot...and fuckable.

Day 23: Praise/Body Worship - [Goddess Amongst Commoners]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Overhearing for so called friends make fun about your "failures" in life made your loving mobboss boyfriend very unhappy. No one makes his Honey cry.

Day 24: Cum Play/overstim - [Milk Me Dry]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Wooyoung couldn't help it. Every time he saw you, he felt himself grow heavy in his slacks. You were everything he needed. And he needed you now.

Day 25: Caught in the act - [Leave Or Join]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You wanted to help your boyfriend relax. It just so happened that some poor soul decided to interrupt.

Day 26: Power Play/Mafia - [Black Card]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were hiding a big secret from your two loving boyfriends. What happens when they finally find out?

Day 27: Succubus/incubus - [You Make Me, Make Sense]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Halloween is filled with spooky ghost stories and haunted places. But what if you end up walking right into a nightmare that was hiding a dream?

Day 28: Tentacles - [Planet 3564AB]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were a mercenary, searching for your next job in the galaxy. Little did you know, being stuck on a wateland planet was about to gift you more than just galactic credits.

Day 29: Monster Fuckers - [My Everything]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Rain was pouring, and your heart was aching. You didn't care what the villagers nor that priest thought about him. You loved him, and you were going to prove it.

Day 30: Werewolf On Heat/Breeding - [Let Me Help]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You didn't know what it meant to be on heat let alone know you could have one since you weren't a wolf... but here you were and Yunho was going to help you through it.

Day 31: Trick or Treat - [Eternally Ours]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : The night was cold, the manor even colder. Until a fire of pure lust was lit.

—

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.

© Ja3honey. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

[neptuneiris]

Behind the Scenes | (epilogue)

Behind the Evolution

pairing: actor!aemond × fem!reader

summary: things seem to be going well, but there is still a missing part in Aemond's new life and that is you.

word count: 12.4k (I know it's really long but it's totally worth it, I swear😭)

previous part • series masterlist

and me again, apologizing for the long delay. my life has been so crazy lately, i have no time and i miss writing, but it's finally here and i hope you like it a lot🤗

it took me a long time to give you a good chapter, so please comment and let me know your opinions, it really doesn't cost anything.

to break your head writing and not get any comments is sad, any writer will understand me, so please and i would appreciate it a lot😭🙏🏻

now yes, read and enjoy!

warnings: aemond and aenar melting our hearts, fluff, sexual content, smut.

Life has become better for both, you and Aenar, and you are very grateful for that. Now, your days go by with a calmness that you have never experienced before.

You are happy and above all Aenar is happy, who radiates joy and happiness at all times, with his laughter always filling the air, a melody that reminds you how lucky you are to have him in your life.

There is honestly nothing better for him, feeling very grateful to his dad and also to the Targaryen—Hightower family.

Aemond has been a pillar of support and love since this new chapter of your life began.

His dedication and commitment to Aenar has been unwavering. Also his family has been a network of support and love that have welcomed Aenar and you with open arms.

And this is exactly what you think about every morning you wake up, realizing how much your life and Aenar's life has changed, for the better.

You yawn, carve your eyes and linger for a moment staring at the curtains in your room, where the sunlight reflects and paints a soft glow on the walls.

Then when you feel fully awake, you head to Aenar's room to check on him, watching him sleep in his crib, where you mostly remember the sleepless nights you had to go through since he was born.

But now the peace in the room is palpable and you lovingly watch your son sleep soundly.

He is now exactly one and a half years old, and you and Aemond continue to devote all your effort and love to ensure his well-being.

Together, you change diapers, take care of him, prepare his meals, buy his necessities and take him for walks in the park, enjoying every moment shared with him.

From the beginning, you and Aemond committed to help each other in Aenar's upbringing and that's exactly what you do. And considering that Aenar is now of age, there comes the exciting moment when he babbles his first words more clearly.

It was one day after Aemond comes home from work and the three of you are in the living room watching the movie that Aenar loves lately and always wants to watch, Cars.

When suddenly, he makes a sound, like some kind of playful babbling that catches yours and Aemond's attention almost instantly.

"Ma-ba-ba," he says as he moves his arms up and down, as if he's reaching for something more than just the words, "Ma!" he exclaims, with a huge smile.

He's sitting in the middle of both of you and you smile nervously at once, as you feel your heart start to beat too hard from excitement.

"What is it, baby?"

You say in a honeyed tone, taking him in your arms tenderly and sitting him on your lap, making sure he can see you and Aemond.

"Mo-ma!" he exclaims with a beautiful smile, his eyes sparkling with curiosity and a spark of amusement.

"You mean 'mommy'?" Aemond also tells him in a honeyed tone, stroking his silver hair lovingly. "Yeah, my little one?"

"Mo-ma," Aenar repeats, raising his arms again, watching his daddy with the same happiness and adoration.

"Mo-mmy," Aemond pronounces slowly, precisely, pointing at you tenderly, "Mommy," he emphasizes, smiling adoringly. "She is your mo-mmy," he continues, pointing at you once more, "Can you say 'mommy'?"

Your smile doesn't fade as you watch your little one try to pronounce that special word with Aemond's help.

You even join in and repeat the same word back to him in the same way, as Aemond gives him more patience and continues to encourage him to say the whole word.

"Mo-mmy," Aemond repeats him.

Aenar frowns with concentration, as if trying to decipher the secret of the words.

"M-moo."

"Mo-mmy," Aemond repeats again with excitement and anticipation, almost getting there.

Aenar moves his lips, as you exchange a nervous smile and glance with Aemond, your hearts beating in unison as you hold Aenar's small hands between yours.

Your gazes meet, too, communicating a mixture of shared excitement and anticipation.

And then, it happens.

With a concentrated effort, Aenar points to you and with his eyes shining with excitement, he emits a sound that seems to contain all the love and joy in the world.

"M-ommy," he babbles, his tender, trembling voice filling the room.

And in that moment, your heart fills with overwhelming happiness and your eyes fill with tears of joy and melancholy as you look down at your child, your lips quivering with pent-up emotion.

"Yes, my baby!" exclaims Aemond happily with a huge smile, leaving a resounding kiss on his cheek to then look at you with excitement and longing.

Aenar laughs and is thrilled by the way you both smile and celebrate his first word, while you pull him closer towards you and start leaving repeated kisses on his cheek, hugging him with love and also congratulating him for his good work.

Aemond can't contain his emotion and joins in the embrace, wrapping his family in a warm and loving hug.

Tears also glisten in his eye as he gazes at his son with indescribable pride, knowing that this moment will be etched in their hearts forever.

And the three of you celebrate this precious moment, immersing themselves in the joy and excitement of this magical moment.

And you stay there, in the living room, surrounded by the scattered toys and Aenar's playful laughter, while you ask him to tell you mommy one more time and Aemond, as excited as you are, records it and sends it to his mother and siblings, announcing the great news.

But Aenar's adventure doesn't stop there.

Soon, both of you, and especially Aemond, encourage him to venture out on his first steps.

With each shaky and brave attempt, they celebrate his accomplishments, being part of each small step towards his growth and development.

Their laughter fills the house as he takes unsteady steps, clinging to furniture and seeking balance, while Aemond and you stand around him, arms outstretched, ready to catch him should he stumble.

Not only at home Aenar tries to take his first steps, also at the Targaryen—Hightower mansion, where Helaena and Daeron together with Alicent also encourage him and take care of him while he walks and holds on to the furniture.

Until the moment finally arrives in the garden of your house.

The warm afternoon sun caresses the garden, painting every corner of the green lawn with warm and golden tones, creating a cozy and lively atmosphere.

For a while now Aemond has been walking with Aenar all over the lawn. Although he has no object to hold on to, Aemond guides him gently and patiently, holding him and encouraging him to take each step bravely.

You watch them from the kitchen windows, having finished washing a few dirty dishes, smiling as Aemond makes playful airplane sounds and Aenar laughs.

As he moves forward, his confidence grows, his steps become steadier and steadier, guided by his father's unconditional love and support.

Until eventually you decide to join in.

You sit on the grass, at a considerable distance from them, neither too long nor too short, with an encouraging and proud smile on your face.

Aenar, more excited than before to see you join them, his little hands clasp tightly in his father's, his eyes shining with a mixture of happiness and determination.

"Mommy!" he exclaims happily, pointing at you and you laugh.

"Do you want to go with mommy?" asks Aemond in a honeyed tone.

"Mo-mommy," he babbles, wiggling excitedly in his father's arms, still standing.

Aemond laughs and holds him firmly by both hands.

"All right. Are you ready, champ?" he asks him, his voice full of enthusiasm and encouragement.

"Come on, honey!" you encourage him, stretching your arms out to him, "Walk to mommy, come on."

Aemond encourages him and still holding him, with an uncertain but determined step, Aenar lifts one foot, followed by another, his tiny feet pressing against the soft grass.

"That's it, baby!" exclaims Aemond with joy, his smile lighting up his face.

With each step, your heart pounds in your chest, pride filling you as you watch your little one intently and lovingly.

"Well done, keep it up baby!" you encourage him, reaching out your hands to him, "Come on, come to mommy."

With a glint of determination in his eyes, smiling Aenar keeps moving forward, his steps still hesitant but full of courage. His little hands cling tightly to those of Aemond, who guides him patiently and lovingly across the soft lawn of the garden.

As Aenar gains confidence, his steps become surer and more determined. And little by little, Aemond begins to let go of his little hands, allowing his son to take his first independent steps.

And with palpable care, Aemond walks behind him, stretching his arms around his little body to catch him in case he needs extra support.

And then it happens.

Aenar strides forward supporting himself, his giggles filling the air as he approaches you with determination, almost running. Your heart swells with pride and excitement at the sight of him as does Aemond.

"Yeah, yeah, keep it up, you got it!" you exclaim happily, unable to contain your happiness as you stretch your arms out towards him.

"Come on, come on," Aemond encourages him too, smiling, watching just as excited as you are about the moment.

And finally, with one last effort, Aenar takes one more step as he reaches toward you and falls into your open arms.

Laughter and congratulations fill the air as you pick him up and embrace him tenderly and excitedly, at the same time as he too laughs and doesn't quite understand his parents' huge smiles.

"You did it, my love!" you exclaim, full of amazement and unable to contain your joy.

You watch Aemond surprised and happy, where his gaze also shines with pride and amazement, as he reaches over and deposits a soft kiss on his son's hair.

Happiness and love fill the space between you, creating a moment you will treasure forever.

And after that memorable moment in the garden, Aemond's family witnesses Aenar's first steps as well. Helaena and Alicent decide to organize a picnic in the garden of the mansion and invite the whole family.

They are all spread out in the garden, the weak rays of the sun caressing their faces as they enjoy the lively afternoon, sharing laughter and conversation, with the sun about to set.

Aenar, full of joy and excitement ventures out once again to walk with the help of Aemond, his brothers and Alicent. While you find yourself sitting with Rhaenyra, her husband Daemon and Aegon at one of the tables.

You recently had the pleasure of meeting the rest of Aemond's family and Aenar as well.

Daemon's daughters, Baela and Rhaena are also here, as are Rhaenyra's eldest and youngest sons who also couldn't help but melt for Aenar.

There are other family members present as well, such as Rhaenys Targaryen and her husband, Corlys Velaryon.

You engage in conversation with Daemon and Aegon, but mainly with Rhaenyra and Rhaenys, while you watch from a distance as Aenar takes small, hesitant steps, but with his determination and joy evident in every movement.

Helaena, Daeron, Jace, Luke and Alicent watch him with pride and adoration, clapping and cheering him on with every step he takes, holding out their hands to guide him.

Alicent, with a tender smile, watches his grandson with love and admiration, while Otto Hightower nods approvingly, acknowledging the family Aemond has, even though he and you are not together.

Afterwards, the meal is served and everyone takes a seat at a large table, with Aemond at your side and Aenar on his lap, as everyone begins to talk about different topics of conversation.

Eventually also Helaena decides to take Aenar in her arms once both of you have already eaten to take him to play with little Aegon and little Viserys on the lawn, with Jace also helping her to supervise her younger siblings.

And even though both you and Aemond know that Aenar is in very good hands, like the protective parents you are, you can't help but watch him from time to time.

But it's more about watching him interact with Rhaenyra's younger children, the three of them laughing, playing and imitating car sounds, the three of them sharing their toys.

Then Rhaenyra introduces you more cordially to Rhaenys, wanting you to get to know each member of the family in depth, where almost immediately the three of them strike up conversation.

While Aemond and Daemon, like the protective fathers they are, watch with little smiles as Daeron, Luke and Joffrey entertain the younger children with their games and antics.

When again Aegon stands beside his brother and watches as the two of them watch the scene before them.

The sounds of laughter and commotion fill the air, as Daeron and his nephews immerse themselves in the infectious joy of the children and make them laugh, creating moments that will be fondly remembered for years to come.

Amidst the hubbub and fun, however, Aegon notices something else.

He watches as Aemond, his eyes shining with happiness, can't help but look away from you from time to time.

He sees you laughing and chatting with Rhaenyra and Rhaenys, and there is something in the way he looks at you that he has seen before that reveals his deep longing and affection.

"You haven't spoken to her?"

He decides to ask him, trying to broach the subject cautiously, causing Aemond to look at him instantly, confused and curious.

"With whom?"

"Y/N," he says quietly, pointing at you with his gaze, "You know... you haven't talked to her and tried to get her back?"

Aemond averts his gaze, his blue eyes reflecting a mixture of longing and reserve.

"No, I haven't," he says with some resignation.

Aegon looks at him with compression but also with some disappointment, for he understands his position but still, if he were him, he would at least try to talk to you.

And he waits for you to tell him more, but he doesn't.

"And why not?"

Aemond lets out a sigh.

"Because I don't want to ruin things between the two of us," he says sincerely, "Talking to her about it might make her uncomfortable. She might even feel in a bad position and I don't want that."

Now it is Aegon who lets out the sigh.

"Bro," he places a hand on her shoulder, "If you don't try you'll never know what will happen. Maybe things will turn out differently and you might be surprised. But you'll never know if you stand by and do nothing."

Aemond thinks over his brother's words, feeling the weight of his advice. His gaze is lost on Aenar, laughing and playing with the other children who continue to fill the air with their laughter and joy.

But the truth is, Aemond has thought about doing it, talking to you.

But he honestly feels torn between his desire to do it to see what might come of it and to preserve the harmony between you and him.

A mixture of emotions engulfs him, the longing to try to reconnect with you, mixed with guilt and remorse for past decisions that caused you so much pain.

On the one hand, he sees how everything has improved between you, how Aenar's presence has woven a stronger bond and how together you have found a new form of happiness.

But on the other hand, uncertainty washes over him, reminding him of the wounds of the past and the possibility of reopening those scars.

He wonders if you, like him, have put the pain and disappointment behind you, if you would be willing to give him a second chance.

Do you still love him, or has that been replaced by indifference or even resentment?

Aemond sighs, feeling the weight of indecision on his shoulders.

"I know," he replies, his tone heavy with contemplation, "But I don't want her to feel pressured, or worse, to think I'm trying to force something that's no longer there."

"Aemond, I understand your point and what you're considering," he tells him with his expression reflecting a mix of empathy and determination, "You don't want to lose her trust, you want to make things right and that's fine," he assures her, "But if she meets someone new....

He starts to say and Aemond's whole body immediately tenses up, instantly observing him with a serious look and his open eye completely attentive, not liking to hear that.

But that is exactly the reaction Aegon expected and he continues speaking to prove his point. Though he senses the tension in his brother and proceeds cautiously.

"If she meets someone new, wouldn't you rather have tried to fix things before that happens?"

Aemond ponders his brother's question, feeling the weight of his words. For a moment, his mind fills with images of you with someone else, and the thought fills him with an awkwardness he can't deny.

"I'm just saying that if you don't try and that happens, you're going to regret it later," he explains to him, "And worst case scenario, if you decide to talk to her, at least you'll know you tried."

Aemond mulls over these new words, letting the prospect of an uncertain future with and without you intermingle in his mind. Images of a possible you together with someone else cause him a pang of pain and a sense of emptiness he can't ignore.

"I know," he finally admits, his voice heavy with thought and concern, "I understand what you're saying, Aegon. And you're right that I don't want to regret not trying. But I'm also afraid that..." he smacks her lips, "That this conversation will ruin everything between us."

Aegon feels disappointment wash over him and has no choice but to resign himself and take it for granted that he will not muster the courage to speak with you.

So he lets out a long breath, gives him a friendly pat on the shoulder and nods sympathetically. And Aemond seeing it, notices the disappointment in his gaze.

"I'll think about it," he promises him, wanting to give him that hope and himself as well.

And Aegon places a small smile.

"Just don't think about it too much."

Meanwhile, the play between the children continues with joy and excitement, each laugh and shout filling the air with a melody of happiness. As the entire Targaryen-Hightower family immerses themselves among the familiars in conversation.

Until eventually the sun begins to set on the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold and pink.

You talk with Alicent and Helaena, while Aenar exhausted but happy, snuggles in Aemond's arms, surrounded by all the love and affection of his family, until it's time to go home.

The darkness of night envelops the room, interrupted only by the faint glow of the night lamp and the clock showing two-thirty in the morning.

Aenar's cries fill the room as you swing him in your arms from side to side, walking around the room, stroking his back and trying to soothe him.

You feel a knot of worry as you watch him squirm uncomfortably in your arms, feeling his little body warm and his skin damp with tears.

His cheeks are pink and his eyes are red, as you try to wipe his face and try to get him to calm down, but the medicine hasn't soothed his pain and he also refused to take a bottle baby.

You run a hand over your face, still feeling drowsy and trying everything you can to be able to calm him down.

"Shh, shh, my love, it's okay," you whisper in a soft voice, rocking him tenderly and gently, "Mommy's here, sweetie."

But Aenar's persistent cries don't abate for the next fifteen minutes and as time passes, you don't know what else to do.

You know it's a fever, but it's not high, as the thermometer indicates. But you don't know why the medicine doesn't work.

But you do know that if it is very serious, you will have to take him to the hospital. But you know you can't do it alone, you need help and right there you decide to call Aemond despite the time.

With Aenar still in your arms, you carefully take your phone and dial his number, hoping that he will answer in the late at dawn. But he doesn't answer the first call.

Aenar shrieks louder and you dial again, pacing around the room, desperate and frustrated, still trying to calm him down and redialing Aemond as many times as it takes until he answers.

Until he finally does.

"Aemond?" you call out to him hopefully, with urgency and relief.

"Y/N?"

You hear his deeply hoarse, sleepy voice on the other end of the line.

"I'm sorry to wake you but I need your help."

Aenar's cry sneaks through the line, causing the dream to quickly fade from Aemond's system.

"What? What's wrong? Is everything okay?" he asks, concerned and attentive.

"Aenar is sick, he has a fever but it's not high. He won't stop crying, I've given him medicine and it's not working. I've been like this for almost an hour," you explain, your voice trembling with worry, "I-I don't know what else to do."

Aemond jumps out of bed, feeling the worry take hold of him as he pulls on a t-shirt and tennis shoes, not dropping his phone from his ear.

"I'm on my way, okey?" he says in a determined voice, as he hurries to get dressed and leave his room, "Don't worry, I'll be there soon enough. Just... keep trying to calm him down."

His voice is full of anxiety, worry and urgency as he tries to calm your nerves as well as his own.

"Okay," you murmur.

And each cry through the line only fills Aemond with more and more worry and it also breaks his heart to hear his little boy cry like that.

While you can hear the background noise, like the jingling of his keys and the buzzing of the door lock as it opens.

"I'm on my way out right now," he assures you, his tone urgent but comforting. "Don't worry, Y/N. I'm coming."

Meanwhile, you struggle to remain calm as you hold Aenar, your nerves on edge as you listen to her steady cry.

And as you wait for Aemond to arrive, you strive to soothe him, rocking him gently and whispering comforting words. But each time you try to comfort him, his crying becomes more intense and your concern grows in tandem.

And it's only made worse by the fact that you feel time seems to slow down and every second feels like an eternity.

Until finally you hear the sound of the door downstairs and your heart leaps with relief that it is Aemond.

It is precisely because of situations like this that you both made the decision that he also has a copy of the house key with him, so things are easier for both of you.

Then you hear his hurried footsteps up the stairs and when the door to the room opens abruptly, Aemond enters with his worried but determined look.

And you watch him with complete relief.

"Hey," you try to smile in the midst of the worrisome situation, still cradling Aenar against your body.

"How is he?" he asks, almost running to both of you.

"He won't stop crying," you tell him, feeling a lump in your throat, as Aemond runs one of his hands through his son's silver hair, "And the medicine still isn't working."

He nods with compression but still with concern.

"Hey, hey," he says softly, lovingly, still stroking his hair and yet still looking concerned, "What's wrong, my little boy?"

Aenar only cries harder and he begins to examine him.

With delicate hands, he checks his temperature and gently pats his forehead and cheeks, while Aenar continues to sob and writhe in your arms. Aemond frowns, concerned about his son's fever and the distress he is experiencing.

"It's probably because of the discomfort."

"So what are we going to do?" you ask, desperately searching for a solution to alleviate your son's suffering.

"Let's give him a bath," he propose, "It will bring down the fever and we'll also give him some more medicine. We'll see if that will make him feel better."

You nod, trusting him and thinking it's a good idea.

Aemond takes his son in his arms and Aenar clings to him tightly, while his tears keep falling down his chubby pink cheeks. And you quickly head to his bathroom to get everything ready.

Aemond cradles Aenar gently, feeling your heart clench at seeing him so distressed.

"It's okay, my little boy," he murmur to him, kissing his forehead tenderly, "Let's make you feel better, okay?"

Together you carefully place him in the tub, making sure the water is warm and comforting.

Aenar cries hoarsely and his body shivers slightly, but the comforting sensation of the warm water seems to calm him a little and his crying becomes quieter, but he still doesn't stop crying.

"Don't you think we should take him to the hospital?" you ask, still worried.

Aemond looks at you seriously and softly at the same time, his eyes reflecting the same concern you feel inside.

"I think we can handle it from here for now," he replies, his tone calm but confident, "The fever isn't too high and he's crying because he's not comfortable. But if the medicine doesn't work and he doesn't stop crying in another hour, we'll take him," he assures you.

You nod, that sounding good, and together you continue bathing Aenar, with you holding his little body very carefully while Aemond washes his hair and cleans it carefully.

After the bath, you both wrap him in a soft towel and carry him back to his room, where Aemond carefully administers another dose of medicine.

"I hope this helps," he murmurs, his voice full of hope as he watches Aenar with concern.

At least he's not crying like before but he's still crying.

Aemond gently cradles him once you put him in soft, comfortable clothes, pacing around the room, while you watch them attentively and worriedly, really not wanting both of you to have to take him to the hospital afterwards, hoping the bath and medicine will work.

Then finally Aemond feels him slowly begin to relax, sees his cries become softer and his little body loosen in his arms.

"I think you can let him sleep in his crib now," you whisper softly, feeling a great relief as you see Aenar slowly calm down in his father's arms, moving towards them carefully.

"No, he probably wants contact. If I leave him in his crib, he might cry again," he explain in an equally soft whisper. "But it doesn't matter, I can sleep with him on the couch."

You watch him intently and slightly worried.

"Are you sure? You won't be uncomfortable?"

He shakes his head, his expression showing serene determination.

"No, I'll be fine," he assures you gently.

He glances at Aenar, who now seems calmer, and then meets your eyes again, conveying a sense of gratitude and trust in you.

"Do you think you could prepare a baby bottle for him?" he asks you gently.

You nod with a comforting little smile.

"Of course."

The two of you walk down to the first floor, with Aenar still in Aemond's arms. You turn on the living room lamp and then head to the kitchen, while Aemond turns on the television with the volume low, providing a quiet background for the evening.

You open the cupboard, take out the baby formula and a clean bottle bottle. You carefully measure out the correct amount of formula and pour it into the bottle. Then you fill it with warm water and shake it gently until the mixture is completely dissolved.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Aemond settles down on the couch with Aenar in his arms, looking for the most comfortable position for both of them.

And seeing you return, he takes the bottle ready for Aenar.

"Thank you."

"I feel like you'll be uncomfortable," you insist, slightly worried, softly, "Are you sure you'll be able to sleep?"

"Yes, don't worry," he tells you disinterested, softly, "Besides, look at him," he points to Aenar, "He's already comfortable, he's feeling better and I don't want him to cry again."

You let out a long breath, as he is right.

But you interrupted the poor man's sleep at midnight, for an emergency, yes, but that he now sleeps on the couch is not acceptable to you and you feel sorry for him.

But Aenar is already calmer in his arms and that relieves you too much. And besides, it seems like the only option.

"I'll get you a pillow and a few blankets," you tell him, heading for the stairs.

And soon enough, you carefully place a pillow behind his back to bring him more comfort and then cover him and Aenar with a soft, warm blanket for the cool night.

Aemond settles in gracefully, thanking you softly, carefully adjusting Aenar in his arms and allowing his little one to drink from his baby bottle.

And as he continues to settle into his father's comforting arms, feeling the warmth of his body envelop him and enjoying the bottle, his breathing becoming calmer and more regular, Aenar finally falls asleep.

And that's when the feeling of total relief finally comes over you as you see him asleep, calm and serene.

Aemond also feels all the tension and worry leave his body as he sees his son healthy and comfortable in his arms, sleeping soundly, making sure he is well at all times, taking care not to wake him up.

And with a sigh of relief, you settle on the couch next to him, wanting to be present and supportive in whatever is needed during the night, in case of anything.

And this exactly catches Aemond's attention, watching you slightly confused but still with that warmth in his gaze.

"What are you doing? Go to sleep."

"I'm fine here," you reply calmly, offering him a small soft smile.

"You should go get some rest," he gently urges you, "You were alone for a long time trying to make him feel better, now I can take care of him for the rest of the night."

"No, I won't be able to sleep peacefully," you explain gently, "I want to stay here and help in case of anything."

Aemond looks at you with appreciation, but also with concern and in that he disagrees.

"I understand that, but seriously, you need to rest," he insists with an understanding look, "I'll take care of Aenar. Besides you'll only be on the second floor and I'll come with you if anything needed or happens."

Your tongue runs across your lips, still hesitant as you watch him.

"Are you sure?"

He gives you a small comforting smile.

"Very. Go to sleep, don't worry, honey."

You can't help but feel a strange feeling inside you as you hear his nickname for you, surprising you, so you quickly look away, trying to look unaffected and feeling for a second nervous.

And finally after a brief moment of hesitation, you finally agree, aware that Aenar is in very good hands.

"Okay," you give in with a tired little smile, getting up from the couch, "But you know, if you need anything or anything happens, anything at all, let me know."

"Sure," he answers you with a nod, conveying reassurance, "Sleep well."

"You too, Aem," you tell him as you start to walk away towards the stairs.

Eventually as the minutes pass Aemond begins to resume sleep now with Aenar in his arms, needing rest and feeling somehow more relieved to have his little one in his arms as you can make sure he is okay.

And you too, already in your bed, drift off into your sleep now feeling relieved and with no more worries.

The clock changes from three in the morning to eleven, where the warm sunlight gently reflects your room, while you wake up and yawn, still feeling sleepy.

You check your phone and knowing that you still have to sleep, your need to check on Aenar is greater and the unconscious reason that made you get up after a few hours of sleep.

And once in the living room, Aemond and Aenar are resting peacefully on the couch, their breaths soft and even, immersed in their deep and peaceful dreams.

You place a soft, small smile on your face at the sight of them, definitely feeling better to see that Aenar seems to be better after the long, troubling night.

With light steps, you approach the couch, trying not to disturb the sound sleep of father and son.

Fortunately no daylight enters through the blinds covering the large windows of the living room, only the TV on and also the entrance to the kitchen illuminate it a little.

And as you reach beside them, you gently stroke Aemond's hair, who from the sensation and your comforting touch, slowly half-opens his eyes.

"Hmm?" murmurs in a sleepy, hoarse voice, blinking slowly.

"Aenar seems much better," you whisper to him with a reassuring look, averting your gaze to your little one asleep in his father's arms, "I thought in that maybe you could let him sleep in his crib so you can rest more comfortably too."

Aemond nods slightly, his expression relaxed but still sleepy.

With careful movements, he rises from the couch, gently holding his son in his arms as you head towards the stairs. And once in his room, he very gently deposits him in his crib and tucks him in with a soft blanket, making sure he's comfortable before walking away.

"He definitely looks much better," he tells you with a relieved tone, "He's having a very good sleep."

"Yes," you confirm with a soft smile, sharing his sense of relief, "Yes, it looks like the rest is doing him good," you say, watching Aenar lovingly as he sleeps peacefully in his crib.

Aemond exhales softly, letting out the pent-up tension of the night, which instantly catches your attention.

"And you slept well? Was it very uncomfortable?" you ask him with some concern.

"Oh, no, it was fine," he answers you with a small smile and carefree attitude, "The important thing was that Aenar felt better and..." he sighs, "We both had a very good sleep together."

You nod with a grateful expression, though your eyes reflect a lingering glint of concern.

"Thank you for coming and taking care of him," you murmur gratefully.

"No need to thank," he replies softly, returning your small smile.

You both say nothing for a few seconds and he yawns, showing obvious signs of accumulated tiredness after the night of worry.

"I think I should go home now," he says in a soft, sleepy voice, though his gaze still reflects concern for his son.

You frown slightly.

"You're still tired. You should get some more sleep," you tell him, placing a comforting hand on his arm.

He is hesitant, torn between wanting to rest and worrying about Aenar, which you notice.

"You don't have to go," you tell him softly, "Sleep in the guest room and later we can fix something to eat."

He lets out a sigh.

"Are you sure?"

"Very," you nod, "Now come."

Together you head towards the guest room, where you prepare the bed for him, handing him soft blankets and also pillows to make him sleep more comfortably.

Aemond arranges everything in his own way as well and as he does so, his hand brushes against yours briefly, sending an electric current through both of you.

You both look at each other briefly and remain absorbing the stillness of the room, silent. You look away almost instantly, a little embarrassed.

But then, in a burst of sincerity, Aemond breaks the silence.

"Remember that day when we drove to the coast?" he asks you, his nostalgic smile adding a special sparkle to his eye.

A flood of memories wash over you, that sunny day and the laughter shared during that trip, so you nod with a warm smile.

"Yeah, how could I forget," you reply softly, "It was a beautiful day."

The mention of that special day seems to open a door to a sea of shared memories.

"And that you fell in the sand when we got to the beach?" you add, with an amused smile.

He lets out a laugh and you immediately follow suit.

"Yeah, how could I forget," he replies with a chuckle, sitting up in bed, "I can still feel the sand in my pants."

"I still remember what you looked like," you reply with a laugh, feeling the warmth of nostalgia envelop you, "You had sand in your hair too."

Aemond looks to a specific spot, his eyes shining with the light of memories as he relives every detail of those days.

"I remember we spent hours searching for sea shells on the shore," Aemond adds with a nostalgic smile. "And you insisted on keeping them all in a bag, even though you could barely carry it at the end of the day."

You laugh softly, nodding knowingly.

"I'll never forget the moment you tripped over that giant shell and almost fell into the water."

Aemond chuckles, the sound filling the room.

"It was a close call! Good thing you caught me just in time."

"Yeah," you nod, taking a seat next to him casually, also reliving those moments in your mind, "I also remember when we would go to the movies and always argue about what movie to watch," you mention, your voice slightly tinged with fondness from past memories.

"And how we would always end up watching a movie that neither of us wanted to see," he adds with a knowing smile, recalling the light and playful arguments you both used to have.

As memories flow between the two of them, an atmosphere of warmth and complicity fills the room, also in an intimate and cozy way, as if time had stopped to allow them to fully immerse themselves in the past.

The closeness between your bodies becomes obvious and a comfortable silence settles between you as you immerse yourself in the nostalgia of those shared moments.

Aemond observes you with a deep gaze, full of tenderness and complicity.

"I remember that day at the lake," he murmurs, his voice soft as a whisper, "That summer we planned a picnic and dropped that pie in the water."

A playful smile appears on his lips as he mentions that memory and you can't help but laugh as you recall the scene. The memories seem to come alive between you, as if you are reliving those moments together once again.

"And how you tried to catch that giant fish with your bare hands," you add.

He lets out a soft laugh.

"Nothing worked exactly as I had planned," he admits, "But it was fun, don't you think?"

"Definitely," you nod with a smile, letting nostalgia wrap around you like a warm blanket, "They were happy times."

"And they still are," he murmurs, his tone laden with meaning as his eyes meet yours, "At least for me."

Your heart flips at his words, and in that instant, you are overwhelmed by the intensity of emotion that threatens to overflow inside you.

Suddenly, Aemond takes your hand gently, and a shiver runs through your body at the contact. His fingers intertwine with yours in a natural way, as if they fit together perfectly.

Every touch, every gesture, seems to charge the room with a palpable energy, as if the air itself were charged with electricity.

Instead of running from it, however, you decide to let yourself be swept up in the moment, not knowing exactly why but allowing the connection between him and you to grow even stronger.

"For me too," you confess, your voice barely a whisper.

A tense silence fills the air, charged with anticipation and possibility. And the pounding of both of your hearts you can hear it in your ears, echoing loudly.

"Really?" he asks you longingly, his eye shining with hope.

You nod softly, letting your eyes convey to him the truth of your words.

"Yes," you answer truthfully.

His gaze shines with gratitude as he looks into your eyes with that longing and intensity, and at that moment, the tension is palpable between you and as if following an irresistible impulse, also without too much thought, you both slowly approach each other.

Aemond leans fully towards you and you, as if there is an invisible magnet, are drawn in without too much thought and your lips meet in a soft but meaning-laden kiss.

There is insecurity and shyness at first, surprise even, as if Aemond senses that at any moment you are going to push him away with one blow, creating a brush between both lips, wanting to make sure that this is something you want too.

But you feel the same way he does too, and more than anything it's as if you're testing the waters before you dive in completely.

And soon enough that tension fades, replaced by a wave of warmth and familiarity.

He moves his lips against yours with more purpose, this being something he longed for since the two of you were reunited, when the universe decided to give him this second chance and now that it's finally happening, he can't believe it.

You gasp against his lips and raise one of your hands, placing it on the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you, as he places one of his hands on your lower back.

And then time seems to stand still, as you both sink into the kiss, your hearts pounding.

It is a kiss in perfect harmony and every touch, every sigh, every movement, is intense.

Gradually the pressure of the contact of lips against lips increases and the kiss becomes deeper and more passionate. Aemond feels as if he is floating and you remember the familiarity of it.

He slides one of his hands tenderly down your cheek as you gently caress his face and each touch is electric, sending currents of emotion through your bodies.

And when you finally separate, with your breath coming in short gasps and your heart pounding in your chests. There is a gleam of wonder and joy in Aemond's eye, while you are enveloped in a warm sense of accomplishment.

You both slowly pull apart, but keep your foreheads together, enjoying the proximity of each other

"What was that?" you ask, unable to look away from his bright, question-filled eye.

"I don't know," he answers you in a low tone, as if you're both sharing a secret, still unable to believe it, with that awe and longing, "But I've wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you again."

You can't help but feel that flutter in your lower abdomen as you hear his words and you both stare at each other, plunged into the comfortable and meaningful silence.

When Aemond pops the little bubble and suddenly looks at you worried and sorry.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what happened," he mumbles, "Maybe it's not what you wanted and I got carried away—

"No, you don't have to apologize," you tell him instantly softly, "I think it was something we both needed."

"You wanted it?" he asks you still unsure.

"Yes," you confess, letting the emotion flash in your eyes as you dive deep into his.

Aemond smiles softly with tenderness, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb.

"I can't believe I waited so long to do this," he murmurs.

The warmth of his breath against your skin makes you shiver slightly, and without another word, he leans into you once more, seeking your lips with his in a kiss full of tenderness and passion.

He sucks on your lower lip with his mouth and you gasp, making him make his way into your mouth with his tongue.

And suddenly all you can think about is Aemond Targaryen.

The kiss is more needy, almost demanding, as his hand comes to rest in your hair and he pulls you fully into him, panting into your mouth, making you involuntarily start to move closer to his body.

Normally Aemond would think the two of you are just kissing and not going any further, but things begin to change the moment he notices your intention to sit on his lap, causing his alarm to disperse.

Both of your movements are more needy, almost letting go and he pulls away with a wet sound from your lips and watches you completely attentively and worriedly, his lips swollen and red.

"Y/N," he calls to you in alertness, "You're—

You don't let him finish, as again you kiss him without thinking too much and he doesn't object, kissing you back intensely.

And without stopping kissing him, you raise yourself slightly on the bed with the help of your knees, place a hand on his shoulder and drape a leg over his lap, sitting on top of him, bringing your hands to his hair.

He places his hands on your waist and both of your breathing begins to get heavy, with the room filling with the gasps and wet sound of kissing with each caress.

"Fuck-" he groans.

"Ae-mond," you sigh against his lips, beginning to feel that delicious ache between your legs.

And there's what I'd missed so much, too.

You saying his name like that, having you like that, kissing you like that, just everything about you that he can't believe is really happening.

Panting your name sends a wave of arousal throughout his body and he begins to feel the hardness in his pants.

He clings with more need to your lips and his hand grips your hair more firmly, gently tugging it away from your lips and planting soft, wet kisses on your neck, descending to your collarbone.

"Fuck, Aemond," you gasp, giving him more accessibility, your eyes closed and your lips parted.

He slowly moves back up the kissing path he drew on you and you lean in to kiss him again, repeating his actions, also leaving kisses on his neck, inhaling his deliciously masculine scent with a slight baby scent by Aenar.

You begin to feel the bulge in his pants, just below you, sending waves of excitement to your core that begins to tighten its walls around nothing.

And unable to help it anymore, you start rubbing your covered center against his hardness, kissing it and feeling yourself burning up inside, the room suddenly feeling too hot.

"Oh shit," Aemond gasps against your lips as you feel yourself rubbing against him, relieving a little of his need to find relief.

You roll your hips sensuously and with enough intensity that you both feel it all, causing you both to start breathing through your mouths.

He holds your waist tighter, panting against your lips and watching you as if you were a Goddess.

"You look so pretty," he says hoarsely.

This sends a new wave of arousal to your core and you also feel your cheeks light up.

And not knowing exactly what to say, you lean down to his lips again and take his lower lip in your teeth, pulling it free, causing him to move you more intensely on top of him.

"Take this off," you tell him between gasps, grabbing the edges of his shirt.

He does so without much thought, tossing it towards a spot in the room regardless, while you bite your bottom lip at the sight of his bare chest and run your hands over his white skin.

It's been years since you last saw him like this and he's not the only one who's been waiting for this since you both started being on the same page.

So you lean back in to kiss him and soon your own clothes on you start to bother you, so you take them off too, unable to resist any longer, revealing your bra.

Aemond leans back, watching you curiously and completely aroused.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," you murmur.

And that's just when Aemond no longer has any doubts.

You want this as much as he does.

So without further concern, he kisses you again and makes you rub against him again, feeling his hard cock begging to be released and relieved.

He runs his big, hot hands down your bare back, wanting to unbutton your bra, sending shivers and electric currents throughout your body making.

Your face and neck are on fire from his kisses and movements, making your whole lower stomach feel on fire as well.

He finally unbuttons your bra and pulls it across the room, leaning down to watch and admire you, feeling like his cock is going to explode at any moment at the sight of your breasts.

"Fuck," he murmurs hoarsely in delight.

He keeps one hand on your lower back, while the other goes up to one of your breasts, squeezing gently to do the same with the other, wanting to give them both equal attention.

He rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, making you gasp and arch your back at the feel of his calloused fingers on your soft skin, feeling so good.

"I missed these amazing tits, baby," he murmurs, now holding both breasts with both his hands, kneading them as he wills, "I can't believe I missed watching them fill with milk."

You moan and gasp loudly as he ducks his head and takes one nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking it gently but hard enough.

"Oh, yes," you whimper, pulling your chest closer toward his face.

He runs his tongue all over the areola and gently grazes the nipple with his teeth, while his other hand keeps squeezing the other with his long, firm fingers.

He releases the nipple with a wet pop and looks at you with that twinkle in his eye, still kneading them.

"Do you like it, baby?"

"Yes," you murmur, rolling your hips on top of his cock, "It feels so good."

He takes the other nipple into his mouth, giving it the same attention as the last, while you moan at the delicious sensation.

Then he releases it with a wet pop and kisses you again, as he lowers his hands to your waist and continues down to your ass, kneading both your cheeks and squeezing it appreciatively.

You roll your hips against him with more purpose this time, kissing him, unable to get enough of him, needing more.

You suck and nibble on his neck, your hands roaming the hairy, silver planes of his chest, moving down his belly and reaching the edge of his pants.

That's when you stop and raise your gaze to him, silently asking his permission without saying a single word, watching as he's expectant in his gaze, trying to control his shaky breathing and holding back completely from pouncing on you.

"Please," he looks at you needy and you don't need to hear any more.

You sit on his knees and with your hands you begin to undo the buttons, watching the huge bulge forming, while he reaches up a little to pull his pants down just enough, as well as his boxers.

And when you see it, erect, big, fully hard and with its red tip, anticipation and excitement sweep over you.

You move towards him again, making him lean back further, sitting on his stomach and gently taking his hard cock in your hand.

He sighs as he feels the warmth and softness of your hand envelop him, gasping as you begin pumping in a not fast enough but not slow enough rhythm on his cock.

"Oh-fuck, baby," he murmurs hoarsely into your face, his cheeks pink and his lips parted, "Oh God."

He moans as you run your thumb over the tip, smearing a drop of cum in circles around the fat head.

His head falls back, sighing in relief as he feels his cock getting that attention it needs, while you kiss his neck and your free hand gently strokes his hair.

"Does that feel good, baby?" you ask in a low, husky murmur in his ear, causing him to shiver.

He hums in pleasure, tilting his head toward you to look into your eyes.

"It feels so good," he says appreciatively, hoarse and panting, "It feels so fucking good."

You kiss his lips and he gasps into your mouth as your hand strokes him more frantically, your fingers soaked with his fluids enveloping his cock completely.

"Ah... fuck," he says in plessure, closing his eye.

You run your hand completely up and down, even touching his two hard rocks, causing Aemond to squint and eventually his breathing becomes more choppy and agitated, on the verge of cumming.

He finds it embarrassing that you've barely started to touch it and he's already about to make a mess of it, but that's not what you think.

You feel a sense of satisfaction and are concentrating on making him feel good, even if it means making him cum in your hand, when suddenly, he grabs you by the hips, stops your movements and lifts you abruptly.

He wraps your legs around his naked torso and gently places you on the bed, while he stands upright.

"You almost had me," he says in a husky voice with a playful little smile.

You bite your bottom lip as he removes his boxers and pants, standing completely naked towards you, then leans back down towards you.

He places one of his hands on your cheek and kisses you deeply, running his hand slowly and gently between the valley of your breasts, down your belly and finally reaching down to your sleep pants.

But you grip his hips tightly with your thighs, flooded with heat and arousal as his cock presses against your still covered center.

He rolls his hips against you, still kissing you, rubbing along your pussy dripping with your juices, while his hands caress as much of your skin as they can.

You try to roll your hips, craving more friction, but one of his hands presses you against the bed, pinning you down as he takes his time, rolling slow against you as much as he wants.

"Fuck, I bet you're dripping."

You whimper.

"Yeah? You're already wet for me, baby?" he asks condescendingly against your lips.

"Aemond," you moan, "I need you," you plead.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll give you exactly what you want, everything you want," he says with some affection to again trap your lips in a passionate kiss.

"Please."

You beg, desperately trying to move against him.

"Shh," he whispers, rolling his hips against you again, this time a little harder.

You moan and he smirks with some satisfaction, watching your every expression, loosening his grip on your body and his hand moves down to the edge of your sleep pants.

"Okay baby, let me see that pretty pussy."

His words entertain you and without a second thought, you lift your hips and remove your pants, also your panties, as Aemond moves the clothes out of the way and he smiles and feels his cock pulse as he watches you spread your legs for him.

With his own hand he strokes his nice big cock, admiring your naked body at his disposal as if you were not real.

"You're so fucking wet," he moans, moving closer to you again.

Then he finally takes pity on you and runs one of his fingers along your slit, instantly feeling your juices envelop him completely.

You moan and clench your thighs, as he slides his finger through your folds and you moan once again pathetically, biting your lips.

Then he finally slides his finger down and gently presses inside your tight entrance, to sink it between your walls, as he uses his thumb to massage your bud.

And you let out a whispery moan at the comforting sensation.

"Oh my—

An electric sensation envelops you, as he thrusts his long finger in and out, then adds a second finger, pushing further in and pulling them apart, stretching your walls.

His thumb gently massages your bud in circles, causing you to jerk in breath-stealing pleasure as you press against his fingers.

"Fuck!" you moan, closing your eyes.

"What is it, baby?"

He asks you through parted lips, admiring you.

"D-don't stop," you beg in a low sob.

He adds a third finger, stretching you even further as his thumb presses against your bud, making you shudder with pleasure.

He continues to stimulate and arouse you until you become a mess, whimpering and growing that feeling deeper and deeper inside you, on the verge of exploding.

He curls his fingers, sending another little jolt of electricity inside you, dragging his fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy.

You bite the inside of your cheek, as Aemond's other hand reaches up to caress one of your breasts.

And just when you think you're about to cum, he notices your whole expression puckered in pleasure, your lips in a perfect 'O' and your eyebrows drawn together, with your breath hitching, he pulls his fingers away from your pulsing, needy pussy.

Immediately that liberating sensation disappears and you moan in reproach and disappointment, watching him confused and instantly completely dissatisfied.

"Be patient, baby," he tells you as he takes you by the waist and places you in the center of the bed.

"Aemond," you moan again in reproach, "P-please."

"You're going to cum but not yet."

He leaves you in the position he wants and you notice how he is still erect and completely needy, instantly your mouth watering at the prospect of this actually happening after years.

Your walls throb and clench painfully but deliciously around nothing, still in pleasure from feeling him inside you and also from the anticipation.

And Aemond sensing your needs, especially ruining your orgasm, finally takes appropriate pity on you and begins to line up against your entrance.

For him this is a challenge, as you are tight, tighter than the last time the two of you shared a bed, so there is that excitement and anticipation you are giving him for allowing him this moment.

But before he enters you, he leans into you and whispers in your ear.

"Are you absolutely sure about this, love? This is the best time for you to stop me now."

You don't give him an answer right away, all you do, completely desperate and wanting to make your honest decision more than clear, you grab his cheek, turn him towards you and kiss him deeply.

He gasps into your mouth and responds immediately to the kiss, as you move your hips beneath him, causing your bud to rub against his hot, hard cock, causing relief.

"Yes, yes, absolutely sure," you say into his lips, kissing him again, "I'm yours, take me any way you want."

And there it is.

Aemond is no longer in any doubt.

Completely pleased and full of pleasure, he slowly sinks into you, inch by inch and not a sound comes out of your open mouth, you hear absolutely nothing either, only the ringing in your ears.

You don't even hear his panting and grunting, you don't focus on anything because your vision blurs for a moment.

Until he goes completely still, holding himself inside you without moving to allow you to adjust to his size.

"Fuck me," he moans, closing his eye in complete pleasure as he feels you squeeze all of him deliciously, just as he expected, "You're so tight and hot, baby."

He kisses you again, but you all you can feel is his huge cock buried in you. All of it.

It's been so long and it's perfect, more than perfect... there's just no feeling like it and you'd missed it.

"Are you okay?" he asks you tenderly, watching you intently beneath him.

"Yes," you murmur, breathing shakily.

You feel full.

Your bodies are one.

And then Aemond begins to penetrate you with slow, deep but urgent movements, rocking his hips against yours.

A sigh escapes your lips at the first movement and you cling to his shoulders, sinking your face between his chest and neck, moaning, as he gasps and with his free hand spreads your legs wider for him.

"Don't you ever make me wait to bury myself inside this pretty pussy again, did you hear me?" he says hoarsely in your ear, like a warning.

He moves his hips faster and deeper, as you try to respond, but your words are garbled and you don't process them in your brain.

"Words, baby."

"Yes," you finally manage to say, "God, Aemond, yes."

"That's what I like to hear. Good girl."

His words and his gun envelop you and flood you completely, a heady sensation as he takes you.

With each thrust, you moan and gasp, your legs locking around his torso to feel him deeper inside you and your hands grabbing his ass so you can pull him into you.

You rock against him, clenching around his big cock every time your skins met.

"That's it, baby. Just like that-fuck," Aemond's voice breaks off with a growl, from the intense sensations.

"Yes, yes," you moan in his ear, music to his ears, biting his shoulder lightly afterwards.

His hand moves up your stomach to your breast, pinching and massaging it as you gasp louder and he grunts, still penetrating you as he increases the speed.

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight," he moans, moving slightly to get a better angle, "You feel so fucking good, baby."

You literally scream as he touches that special spot inside you with each thrust, making you temporarily see stars, moaning loudly without being able to help it, feeling so good.

And immediately Aemond's hand comes up to cover your mouth, silencing your sounds and also stopping the movement of his hips.

"I love hearing your every sound , but you have to be quiet, baby," he says condescendingly, "You don't want to wake our son, do you?"

He removes his hand when he sees you try to speak.

"Yes, I know, sorry," you say agitated, needing him to move inside you again.

"Keep your voice down, love," he says then kisses you.

And just as you both begin to move in perfect synchrony your mouths together, he again begins to move or rather roll his hips sensually, slowly and deeply, making you gasp into his mouth.

Slowly he begins to pick up the pace he had before and pulls his lips away from yours, kissing your neck as his hand again takes one of your breasts, moving down your collarbone until he takes in his mouth the nipple he is not giving attention to.

You arch against him and try not to moan too loudly, feeling so good and feeling that little flame again begin to ignite and grow inside you until it explodes.

"Fuck, Aemond. Deeper," you moan, one of your hands clenching the sheet tightly.

"I'm not going to last long the way you're squeezing me, baby," he growls.

Then he dangles your leg over his shoulder, creating a new angle for his thrusts and finally does as you ask, penetrating you deeper and harder.

"Oh God," you whimper, feeling a new intensity.

The head of his cock hits your soft spot as he thrusts in and out. And he leans into you, his skin glistening with sweat and seeing how beautiful you look beneath him.

"Would you give me another one?"

Completely filled with pleasure and feeling incoherent at how he's making you feel, you don't understand his words or what he's referring to, so he leans in to leave a kiss on your lips, wanting your attention.

"Another babe," he murmurs longingly, ramming you hard, "I wasn't there for my first son in his first few months because of my stupid decisions, but I'll do it properly this time."

You moan, rocking your hips against his, your whole face contracting in pleasure.

"Will you let me?" he murmurs with pleasure on your lips, caressing one of your breasts, "Will you let me get you pregnant, watch you get swollen with my child and these amazing milk-filled tits?"

You just nod, mind fuzzy to really understand but nod, wanting more, needing more, no matter what.

"Yes, yes, I will," you say completely drunk on pleasure, nodding quickly.

"We're going to be a real family, my sweet girl," he says sweetly against your lips, then leaves wet kisses on your neck.

You just nod again and after several more thrusts, you moan loudly again as he brings one of his hands down to caress your bud with his thumb.

And he quickly covers your mouth again with his free hand, not wanting to stop once more, not now, when he's taking you to the edge of the abyss as he keeps ramming your G-spot repeatedly and at the same time stroking it with his thumb.

And watching you like this, watching you take his cock so well, like you used to, is a pleasure he hasn't felt since the last time he did this with you, flooding him from head to toe.

Watching the woman he loves, her breasts swaying with each thrust, cheeks flushed and her eyes between wide watching him back, is for Aemond a sensation beyond intimacy.

"A-aemond," you moan, feeling yourself cumming.

He grunts, moving his thumb faster on your bud, panting and breathing hard, feeling his balls tighten.

"Come on, baby. I can't hold back much longer, come for me, I need you to cum first," he almost begs you, grunting, stroking your bud faster.

You feel a wave grow inside you, a powerful electricity, feeling every muscle in your body tense and your eyes close tightly, arching your back.

You moan highly at Aemond's name, your vision suddenly going blank, as the most intense orgasm of your life rips through you, as he continues to penetrate you faster and deeper.

His cock squeezes deliciously as he feels you squeeze him in that incredible way, fucking you through your orgasm, prolonging it and it feels so good.

Your walls crisscross around him, sucking him in as he grunts loudly, calling your name as he penetrates you, his cock throbbing harder and harder and moving inside you with more uncontrolled movements.

And finally, he comes.

You could swear you're left watching stars behind your eyes, as you feel all of his hot seed fill your insides and Aemond continues to move his hips very slowly inside you, grunting as you feel all of him fill you completely.

"Ohhh-fuck," he sighs, throwing his head back, his eye tightening and his brows furrowed, cheeks flushed.

His hot seed floods your womb and it was so much that it began to drip out of you.

Your legs lose strength, as does your whole body and you lie slumped on the bed, filled to the brim with Aemond's semen, with that gratifying feeling between your legs and trying to catch your breath.

Aemond slowly and carefully pulls his cock out of you with a hiss, making you shudder a little, then leans into you, leaves comforting kisses on your cheek and collapses beside you, also trying to catch his breath.

"Oh-shit," he sighs, pulling you closer to his body, hugging you, "Are you okay, baby?"

You just nod, as you snuggle into his chest, still shaken and completely overheated, so Aemond leaves a soft kiss on the crown of your head.

"I'll clean you up in a second, okay?"

"Okay," you sigh, with your eyes closed and licking your lips.

His care gives you tenderness and with what little strength you manage to regain, you raise your gaze to him and leave a soft kiss on his lips which he instantly reciprocates, smiling softly against your lips.

But as soon as all the heat of the moment goes down, he can't help but feel unsure and worried.

"It's okay if you didn't mean what we said," he begins to tell you, "I understand it was all for the moment. And I won't expect anything after this if it's just a one-time thing for you."

The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, filling the space between the two of you with a slight tension.

Also Aemond's anxiety is obvious, as if he is waiting for the world around him to crumble after what just happened, which foolishly only gave him hope.

But you with your gaze full of sincerity and affection, you run one of your hands over his face, gently removing the hair falling down his forehead.

"I meant it," you tell him in a soft voice, "What we said, what happened here...it wasn't just for the moment."

Her eye widens in surprise, her lips slightly parted as she absorbs your words.

A glimmer of hope shines in his gaze and his heart seems to lighten from an invisible weight.

"Really?" he whispers, her voice full of longing and relief.

You nod with a reassuring little smile, and before he can say anything else, you lean into him and kiss him tenderly, sealing your words with a gesture of affection and commitment.

The sunset gently caresses your face and Aemond's as you both sit together on a blanket in the huge garden of your house, sharing laughter and conversation while enjoying the food and the beautiful scenery that surrounded you.

You suddenly had the idea of wanting to have a picnic in the garden of your house and Aemond was not opposed to the idea.

You both talk about everything and nothing, immersing yourselves in each other's company and the tranquility of the moment, with the bushes, the colorful flowers and the green lawn.

Aemond smiles, watching you fondly, feeling grateful to have you by his side, while you are beaming, happy to be here with him, sharing this intimate and special moment.

And honestly, Aemond doesn't quite understand why you decided to give him this second chance.

In his mind, he relives these last few days, wondering over and over again what exactly has changed in you that made you decide to trust him again. Of course he feels grateful and very lucky, but he can't help but wonder.

And honestly you're not entirely clear either.

After everything you went through on your own, after you had to carry most of the weight on your shoulders in the beginning and you had to fight against almost everything to be able to support yourself and your child... then everything got better and better.

You don't have a clear answer, but something about the way he has gone out of his way so far to show his remorse and genuine desire to make things right gave you hope.

Aenar is completely happy when he is with him and really a father figure was never lacking.

These early years for Aenar are very important and your reunion with Aemond happened at the ideal time for Aenar to have that father and son relationship with him.

Aemond takes your hand tenderly and delicately, intertwining his fingers with yours as he looks at you lovingly.

"I don't want anything else, just you and Aenar," he tells you with a small smile, vulnerable but sincere, "I couldn't imagine a better place than being here with you."

You smile back at him, feeling a warm tingle in your chest at his words.

You move closer towards him and gently caress his cheek, bringing your forehead together with his, letting the peace and tranquility of the pleasant moment envelop you.

"I know I never told you before because I wasn't sure if I felt it anymore," you begin to say in a soft voice and Aemond listens to you carefully, "But I love you too."

Aemond smiles softly and he swear he feel his eye begin to water, unable to help it.

And without wasting a second, he leans into you and captures your lips in a soft, passionate kiss, causing you both to lose yourselves in the moment, enveloped in the warmth of your love for each other.

"I love you," he murmurs once again against your lips, watching you and holding you in his arms adoringly.

Again he kisses you again, sweetly, softly and with deep feeling and after a while, they continued to embrace, enjoying each other's closeness.

And together they kept talking, laughing and caressing each other, because it is the moment of peace and happiness for both of them, finally after a long time.

Aemond had been feeling the pressure of his work lately. The constant demand of rehearsals, recordings and events was draining him physically and emotionally.

And after much reflection, he decided to take a temporary break from his career so he could devote more time to his family and himself.

When he shared the news with his family, he expected some resistance or concern, but instead, he received overwhelming support.

His mother and siblings supported him in his bravery in making that decision, as well as expressed their joy at having him more present in their lives, just as you did when he told you about his decision.

His family was also very happy for him and for you when Aemond shared with them the news that the two of you are trying again, Aegon most of all was very proud.

And that evening in the garden, while enjoying the picnic with you, he hears a familiar little voice that instantly makes him smile and fills him with joy.

"Daddy!"

Aenar exclaims, running to them with open arms and a huge smile, with Aunt Helaena running after him, telling them that the little boy missed his parents.

Aenar throws himself into his arms and you laugh, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead, while Aemond hugs him and leaves repeated kisses on his cheek, making him laugh.

Both he and you feel a deep sense of gratitude and happiness.

And in that moment, surrounded by love and laughter in the garden, Aemond feels complete and at peace, with his little family.

general taglist:

@imaegonstargaryenswife0 @bellstwd @gibbsgirl7 @toodlesxcuddles @imsoshygirl @croatianprincess @gemini-mama @a-little-roony-mara @mysteris-things @zenka69 @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @duds31 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @eternally-passionate @bellaisasleep @ttkttt @aemshaircare @mellowdreamlandpost-blog @noodle81937 @mooncalvin @queenofshinigamis @n4tforlife @vexladin @dixie-elocin @wotcherpeak @watercolorskyy @shiny-trashs-blog @strangersunghoon @elysian0612 @skzenhalove @iloveallmyboys @cakescupcakesminicookies

[ts19009]

Seventeen Fic Rec's Part 3

(CONTAINS SMUT AND MATURE SUBJECT MATTER)

(Bold title means favorite)

(UPDATED: May 18th, 2024)

OT13

Seventeen's reaction to you asking them for a baby @j0shuasw1fey

Tales from Camp Masterlist (Thirteen friends reconnect on a camping trip, reminiscing about their times as camp counselors when they were in college.) @kwanisms

✤ Losing It. (masterpost) ✤ (A series of having virginities given to you. Sometimes they throw said virginity at you with full force, other times, they lovingly hold your hand, bat their lashes, and say some of the dumbest shit you’ve ever heard a man say in regards to getting laid for the first time. ) @ncteez

Kim Mingyu

Always // oneshot (Sometimes, one man's burden is everything another man has ever wished for.) @spamgyu

When I Kissed the Teacher (science teacher mingyu, grammar teacher reader, meddling students, crushes, flirting, lots of candy and coffee) @highvern

Read All About It (Anonymous Life and Sex writer, Not Carrie Bradshaw, takes on a 30-day challenge with her boyfriend, Min. How wild fans would go to find out they're none other than Kim Mingyu and his girlfriend?) @highvern

Hot Wheels [M] (Co-Workers to Lovers, Fluff, Humor, Smut 18+) @milfgyu

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖧𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖧𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽 (fake marriage au!, fluff, angst, smut (18+ mdni) @wonustars

There's a snake in my pants (Crack/humour. Some fluff. Established relationship. Himbo Mingyu! [I love himbo Gyu]) @whipped-for-kpop-fics

Cross My Heart (Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.) @minisugakoobies

Like A Cowboy Part 2 of 4 (Mingyu only needs to wake up with you once to decide he'll do whatever is necessary to do it every day; even if it means letting you help him outside and figuring out how to help you inside, it's worth it.) @sluttywoozi

Let our lips lock, baby (Friends to lovers smut. Fluff. They are in LOVE okay. Birthday boy Gyu <3) @whipped-for-kpop-fics

I can do it for you (After years dealing with everything alone, you stumble upon an old wishbook from your past. And you jokingly writes down your ideal boyfriend, Mingyu. To your surprise, Mingyu magically appears in your couch.) @hoshifighting

here and now. (secret!agent!mingyu x secret!agent!reader, established relationship) @writingmeraki

Jeon Wonwoo

heads up! stardew. they r gaming. @nonranghaes

Cookies and Cream (academic rivals to lovers, smut, heart wrenching and tooth rotting fluff (wonwoo is down bad bad)) @seokgyuu

April Shower (Wonwoo meets a lot of people through his career as a travel photographer. Not one of them has ever made him want to stay in one place, until he met you.) @sluttywoozi

HEAVEN (wonwoo has a reputation for being distant, quiet and a bit mysterious. once you get to know him better, though, you come to find the sweet, shy boy underneath the surface.) @sanakiras

Patterns (Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. So what does it mean when you find yourself in Wonwoo's bed over and over again?) @highvern

Daylight (between the endless flirty banter or secret looks of longing, the line between you and your boss had always been slightly blurred. But when a night out with friends has you and your boss meeting for the first time outside of the workplace, that line starts to become nonexistent as mutual feelings are brought to light.) @moonscriptsx

✦ sugar & spice (bodyguard!wonwoo x celebrity!reader) @etherealyoungk

Hong Jisoo

city lights series | joshua hong (M) [ongoing] (rock singer joshua, neighbours with benefits) @hannieween

best friend’s brother (This had me crying ugly tears. its my fav) (imestep, romance, angsty angst, major feels abt having a crush, lots of flirting, smut, drama, happy tears.) @chocosvt

not according to plan | hjs (fake dating, strangers to friends to ?? | fluff, slight angst, smut) @the-boy-meets-evil

Expiration Date (2/2) (artist!joshua x model!fem!reader) @number1mingyustan

Birds of a Feather ( joshua hong x f reader) @onlymingyus

Timestamp! Aquamarine Au! @mysafehaneul

on second thought (where your roommate, wonwoo, has an interesting solution to all your bad dates. nothing can go wrong with two friends crossing a line, can it?) @the-boy-meets-evil

Yoon Jeonghan

"lovie" (all the ways jeonghan uses your nickname) @cherryredcheol

Titty-Shirt! (18+) (pervert!rollercoaster operator!jeonghan x bigtiddie!fem!reader) @beefboyandbabygirl

love café (while you’ve spent the last few months pretending the love café doesn’t exist, you realize you need its services now more than ever. this brings you face to face with jeonghan, the son of a luxury fashion designer who’s got money to burn. your exchanges are strictly business. until they’re not) @chocosvt

five ways to say "i love you" - jeonghan (how jeonghan shows his love to you, through all five love languages) @p0ckykiss

Xu Minghao

To all the love letters I wrote but never sent (fluff, best friends to lovers) @welcometomyoasis

Birthday Gift l Xu Minghao (It's your birthday and Minghao wants to give you your present!) @jenoslutie

Lee Seokmin

Beautiful Liar (mafia au, dark romance? angst, smut.) @starlightx

Epistolary Yearning (epistolary form, historical fantasy, romance | smut) @himbocoups

Nice Guys Finish First (After a first date with the sweetest man you've ever met, thanks to a mutual friend, you're more than willing to silence his doubts and show him how sexy he was to you.) @celestiababie

midnight rain | lsm (after seven years away, you finally return home. meeting seokmin again wasn't in your plans, but life wasn't willing to let you have it your way.) @wongyuuu

[lemonlover1110]

Hello! I hope you are doing well 😌 you are my fav writer and I just wanted to to throw out this crazy brainrot request to u bc I am SICK over it

So Florence nightingale syndrome right? Toji is like a professional boxer or whatever something athletic bc he's a fucking beast and he gets hurt, like his leg or something, and you become his at home occupational therapist. So you're like taking care of him and he's getting feelings for you while also being a stubborn ass bc u push him constantly so he can get better. and he's super hesitant to accept his feelings bc he's a Playboy of course.

I'm just picturing this one scene where you're helping him up and he's leaning on you and he says something like "are you sure you can handle me princess?" Idk I'm insane I'm sorry 😭😭😭😭

Pairing: boxer!Toji Fushiguro x f!caregiver!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, frustrated Toji, Florence nightingale syndrome, Toji has an injured leg and is a little bitch for a bit

*This was so fun to work on and now I'm having thinking a little too hard about boxer toji (I'm ovulating) sofjsof enjoy!

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji never really thought he’d be dependent on someone, yet now he can’t even take a shower standing up. After an unlucky boxing match, Toji ended up in a cast and crutches. That’s what he gets for not listening to his son who told him it was around time to retire.

“I’m not a fucking skeleton, I’m good in my field. I can do this for a couple more years.” How he wishes he could swallow his fucking words. He thought that after getting the cast off he’d go back to normal, and he’d have no issue with mobility. He shouldn’t have an issue moving his fucking leg again, he’s been moving it for more than thirty years, why should three months of not moving it change much?

Apparently he can’t do anything, which is why he has someone with him all day every day, helping him so he can get better. Toji’s main issue? He gets frustrated when someone tries to help him. 

“Be careful, it’s hot.” You smile at him as you put his dinner in front of him. He has a scowl on his face as you set it down in front of him. He tried to help make dinner but he couldn’t stand for too long. He’s mad, but not at you. He could never be mad at you. 

Toji wasn’t necessarily fond of you when you started working with him; he hates being dependent on someone else, and he knew that he would have to depend on you for pretty much everything. You try to help him though, and he should be more appreciative of you because of it, but in reality he feels like a fucking baby. He’s grown to like you though… A little too much for his liking. 

You leave him to eat, going to wash the dishes since he can’t do the task yet. Perhaps his own bowl and spoon, but not everything that needs to be cleaned. You watch him from the counter, watching his refusal to pick up the spoon and eat the soup you made him. Earlier he was so prideful, telling you that he would help you every step of the way during dinner, and he couldn’t even finish one third of it. You were proud of him regardless.

“It’s really good, Toji! The potatoes you helped peel really added a touch to it.” You’ve gotten close enough to be on a first name basis. You see each other every day, you stay in the same house, of course you’re close enough to talk to each other so casually. It doesn’t mean you should though. You’ve always managed to keep a very professional relationship with patients, but there’s just something about him that makes it hard for you to be normal around him.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking kid.” He says, pushing the bowl of soup away. He’s not hungry anymore. Toji stands up, his hands holding on to the table to support himself before grabbing his crutches. 

“Toji, if you’re not eating it, can you try to bring it over to me, please?” You ask. You know the soup has cooled down, if he spills it, he’ll be fine.

“If you want it, pick it up yourself.” Toji is clearly mad. You don’t take it to heart though, because you know it’s with himself and not you. 

“How about we go to the park tomorrow? It’s supposed to be a nice day out.” You talk to Toji who tries to watch a documentary. He’s not all that interested in what he put on, caring more about what you have to say. He might not show it, and he tries to deny it, but he has the biggest soft spot for you. “We can also get some ice cream, if you’re in the mood!”

“Hey… I’m sorry about earlier. I was just—” It’s hard to get an apology out of him, but sometimes he knows he’s in the wrong and he feels the need to apologize. He doesn’t want you to be mad at him, even though you’re clearly not upset with him. You’re so understanding and patient with him, he feels like he doesn’t deserve that.

“You’re fine, Toji.” You reassure him with a smile, your hand going over his balled up fist. You feel your heart skip a beat as you touch him. You’ve crossed the line past a professional relationship, and you should set some boundaries within yourself– But his other hand goes on top of your own before he brings it up, softly kissing your knuckles. It’s hard to set boundaries when he feels the same way.

“I’m tired.” He tells you, and you stand up to help him get up. Toji usually denies your help, but this time, he has no problem accepting it. You just want the best for him, and there’s some things that he can’t do completely alone. He has to take baby steps. He’s using you for support, and he’s scared that he’s too heavy for you. He asks you, “Are you sure, princess? Can you handle me? I know I’m pretty big.”

“You’re fine. I can handle you.” You reassure him, and you begin to walk to his bedroom. His room was previously on the second floor, but ever since his injury, he’s moved his bedroom to the first floor. You get him to his bedroom, helping him on the bed. You smile at him before saying, “Let me grab your crutches. You left them in the living room, right?”

Before you can walk away, he grabs your sleeve. Toji’s slowly realizing that he can’t fight off the feelings that consume him when you help him, and he’s usually not a fan of them. Toji’s been tied down once before, he certainly doesn’t want that again. But with you, it’s different. He doesn’t mind the idea.

“Will you lay down with me?” He asks, and you suck in your bottom lip between your teeth. You shouldn’t. He caresses your cheek with the back of his hand before he prompts himself up to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Toji, you know this isn’t something I can do.” You tell him as he looks lovingly into your eyes. “I’m here to help you get better.”

“You can help me get better by laying down next to me.” Toji responds. You grab the hand that so lovingly touches your cheek and kiss it, before bringing your lips down to meet his momentarily. He swears he hears fireworks when your lips meet, even after you pull away.

He’s most definitely in love with you.

“I’ll go get your crutches. Good night, Toji.”

[pookalicious-hq]

whatever... suna rintarou x reader

a/n: small sunarin blurb i whipped up while trying to get out of a writers block, also implied miya sister manager reader tw: none <3 word count: 600ish

“Why are you laughing? You can’t actually find that funny.”

Rintarou’s face remained composed, but if you looked closely, you might catch the faintest curve at the corner of his lips, his eyes just barely hinting at amusement. It was a subtle shift, one that most people would overlook, but she knew better. She had spent enough time around him to recognize the telltale signs of his teasing.

“Not really,” he replied, his voice carrying that familiar, playful edge. A teasing glint flickered in his eyes, daring her to react. “I just wanted to see that little scrunch in your nose.”

Her nose crinkled in disapproval as if on command, the exact reaction he was hoping for. She hated how predictable she could be around him, and yet, a part of her didn’t mind at all. His teasing had a way of pulling out sides of her she didn’t always let show.

“I don’t scrunch my nose, idiot,” she shot back, though her tone lacked the bite she intended. Her pulse quickened in frustration, knowing she was giving him exactly what he wanted.

“You just did, idiot,” Rintarou countered, his smirk widening slightly, satisfied with the effect he had on her.

She rolled her eyes, but there was a softness to her exasperation. With a huff, she turned her gaze to the side, muttering a quick “whatever” as she tried to salvage her dignity. The way her cheeks puffed out ever so slightly when she was annoyed—Rintarou couldn’t help but find it endearing. The sight filled him with warmth, a sensation that seemed to grow stronger every time he was around her.

Naturally, she was the one looking up at him, her eyes just barely peeking out from under her perfectly curled lashes. But from his position on the ground, he found himself with a new perspective—one that made it increasingly difficult to maintain eye contact with the girl in front of him. The way the light caught in her hair, the soft curve of her lips, even the slight flush on her cheeks—it was all becoming harder to ignore. He could feel his heartbeat quicken, a reaction he wasn’t used to, but one that was becoming more familiar with each passing day.

Without meaning to, his gaze lingered just a moment longer on her lips, and he quickly looked away, hoping she didn’t notice.

“Sunarin!”

The spell was abruptly broken by Atsumu’s screeching voice. Both of them turned in the direction of the sound, matching looks of annoyance crossing their faces.

“Stop flirting with my sister and help clean up!”

Rintarou sighed, pushing himself up from the ground, brushing off the sudden awkwardness. “Shut up, fuck-face,” he shot back, though the slight pink tint on his cheeks might have suggested otherwise. “Aren’t you supposed to be helping too?”

Atsumu rolled his eyes dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, yeah, but you’re better at this organizing stuff than me. Plus, you two looked like you were having a moment,” he added with a sly grin.

She groaned, shooting her brother a glare. “We were not having a moment, you idiot.”

“Sure didn’t look like it,” Atsumu teased, his grin widening. “But whatever you say, nezumi-chan.”

Rintarou couldn’t help but chuckle at the siblings’ banter, a bit relieved by the shift in conversation. He glanced back at the girl above him, who was still glaring daggers at Atsumu, and felt that familiar warmth spread through him again. It was getting harder to ignore—this ease, this connection.

He picked up a stray volleyball, tossing it into a nearby basket. “Come on, let’s finish up before he starts yapping again.”

She let out a frustrated sigh but nodded, grabbing another volleyball. “Whatever. If he keeps this up, I’m locking him out of the house.”

Rintarou laughed, the sound lighter than before. “Sounds good to me.”

a/n: lmk if you want more sunarin content he's my fav... pinky promise i'll also get to working on my fic now mwah <3

[byuno-o]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS I'VE OBSERVED.

NOTE: THESE ARE ANECDOTAL OBSERVATIONS; HENCE MIGHT NOT BE APPLICABLE TO EVERYONE. READERS' DISCRETION IS ADVICED, AND THIS IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT.

I have read somewhere that the degree you have on your sun sign is the most important degree off all, along with your rising sign. I am trying to look for the writer, if you might know them, do let me know. So, I have my sun in 23 degree, and I am 23 years old. A lot of things are getting weird and real for me this year. First of all, I am a huge people's person--you know, having many groups of friends and can't stay alone, I have stopped connecting with people since January. I feared voicing my opinions out loud, look at me, posting my stories and observations online and debating with a small group of friend on socially relevant topic. I used to laze around a lot, but I work almost every hour--and sleep for only 3-4 hours everyday and feel energized just thinking about finishing projects.

Regarding the degree of your rising sign, you'll go through a huge public change in the age your degree is in. It also tell the kind of power you might exude in the world.

Your mars is always going to help you during the times when you think you're alone. Try to learn more about it. I have mars in Libra in 7th house, and in times of need, despite never asking for help, i always end up with people who appear like angels--suddenly and only for help.

While your signs tell a lot about the what and when, when it comes to the houses, the degrees will tell you a lot about how. For example, a friend of mine has capricorn degree in Aries in first house, and although she is a go-getter, she is ruthless and very practical. She does not have the ill-temperament of an aries, unlike my other capricorn friend who is a total opposite of her. My other friend has her sun sign in a virgo degree. Her criticism hurts first but makes sense. And the self- talk she has with herself is diabolical.

Although I am pisces rising, almost nobody has ever talked about my eyes, but so many people do love my hands and feet--tell me I got cute feet and hands. Hehehehe.

I will always trust a virgo to go with a no-makeup, makeup look. They just look so ethereal, it almost hurts. My friend who has a virgo stellium in her 9th house looks like an angel. While her cousin has aries and pisces combination you bet, I got a RIhanna for a friend--not the looks but the personality.

My aquarius friend is the most humanitarian person i've ever met. She always participates in rallies, and debates and donates for ngos and everything. She makes me happy. People should be like her--world will become a beautiful place for future generation.

Almost all Leos hate copy cats, since their extraness--even the introverted ones have a unique extraness to them, makes them them. But they have to deal with copy cats at least once in their life, so they can uncover other aspects of themselves.

Pisces, if unevolved, can be manipulative, and can harm themselves. I have pisces friend who almost never accept credits for her hardwork, and always compares herself to others just so we can validate her.

Same goes for an unevovled scorpio sun. Do let me know if I wrong.

On the brighter side, Scorpio and Pisces are the most giving people I've ever met. They just makes my day better with their presence when they are not acting weird, of course.

I have immense respect for Capricorns and Virgos. They know how to keep business and personal life separate.

But they are very very sneaky. If they don't like you, you won't even know. They'd just cut ties with no explanation--communication problems. But they are confrontational when it comes to the hurt others have inflicted on them. Communication problems are what they need to work on in order for their loved ones to understand them, which actually might help them with their low self-esteem. You just cannot tell me, they don't suffer from that.

Gemini people are either the most intelligent person in the room, or the dumbest one--there's no in-between. My brother is a gemini who is very tech savvy, and created half of my tech related stuff without proper guidance or youtube. On the other hand, two of my school friends who were gemini, had problems with understanding basic stuff and we'd always help them after teachers left, and they'd feed with homemade food. I miss them.

Anyway, that's all for today. Do let me know what you think about these observations and yeah, let's discuss. I am learning about lilith placements and my friends are nice enough to let me read their charts.

[sandwitchstories]

Becoming Papa

Hello, Hello! Here is the next installment in my series of drabbles, headcannons and one shots about Dad!Sukuna!

Dad!Sukuna Series on my AO3 - Here! (No real rhyme or reason here, only things they in common are Dad!Sukuna and fluff)

Authors note: I have had horrible writer's block lately, but at least I managed to create this! I've said it before and I'll say it again: Sukuna, in his true form, being a good Daddy and doting father just does something to me. Sukuna, in his true form, being a good husband does as well! So enjoy both in one story :)

Summary: Headcanons and brain rot about Sukuna during your pregnancy and with a new born

WC: 900+

CW: female reader, mother reader, breastfeeding, Sukuna has feelings he is not familiar with, non-graphic mention of labor, new born baby, true form Sukuna (4 arms, 2- oh wait this isn't that type of story...) some slightly suggestive humor (other than that horribly lame joke I should probably apologize for), it's just plain Dilf Sukuna fluff and crack

Sukuna who returns from a few days away only to have Uraume inform him you had been throwing up every morning he was gone

Sukuna who was unsatisfied with your writing it off as a stomach bug and attempted to heal you with his RCT only to discover the cause - You were pregnant

Soon to be Dad!Sukuna who was speechless at this discovery and looked at you with all 4 of his eyes blown open for a few moments before he spoke and gave you the answer

Soon to be Dad!Sukuna who was overwhelmed with new and unfamiliar feelings at the smile on your face and the joy in your eyes at the news

Soon to be Dad!Sukuna who was unable to sleep that night as thoughts of the future ran through his mind. He held you close with one arm around your shoulders and another wrapped around your hips with his large hand resting over your lower stomach.

Soon to be Dad!Sukuna who held your hair back every time you got sick. His other hands stabilized you or rubbed soothing circles against your skin. 

Soon to be Dad!Sukuna who handled your rollercoaster of emotions way better than you or Uraume had thought he would.

Soon to be Dad!Sukuna who gets up in the middle of the night to get whatever it is you are craving without having to be asked. He complains the whole way there and back, and normally hands it to you with a snarky comment, somehow still determined not to let you know just how much you and your child mean to him.

Soon to be Dad!Sukuna who was laying with his head on your stomach the first time he felt the baby kick

Soon to be Dad!Sukuna who poked back against your belly every time he got thumped, making you shake your head and chuckle. 

Soon to be Dad!Sukuna who complained that the baby was already a little shit and a cock block. He acted like he was put out but truthfully, as much as he longed to be intimate with you, he would never want to cause you more discomfort

Soon to be Dad!Sukuna who when you went into labor sat behind you, two arms on your belly using RCT to make sure you were both okay while the other two arms helped you hold your legs up

Dad!Sukuna who almost teared up at the sound of the baby’s cry tearing through the room.

Dad!Sukuna who would always remember the happy laugh you let out and the love in your eyes as you looked down at the baby now in your arms and then looked up at him and excitedly told him it was a girl

Dad!Sukuna who would never admit it but was afraid to hold his child. That thing was small and loud and fragile. 

Dad!Sukuna who looked down at the baby he finally agreed to hold and felt a warmth inside himself he had never experienced before. She had his pink hair but your light eyes. He already felt so much love for her and pride in her. It was a strange and foreign feeling to him, but oddly enjoyable. He knew in that moment there was nothing he would not do to protect his daughter.

Dad!Sukuna who sat alone that first night, holding his daughter while you slept and felt his eyes well up with tears of joy. For the first time ever. She started to whine and he pulled her closer, laying back beside you with her on his chest. 

Dad!Sukuna who had never slept peacefully or relaxed so much as he did sleeping with a baby on his chest

Dad!Sukuna who had to make a promise to you that he would not eat his daughter after he had agreed with you that newborn babies smell good. He had laughed at you as he did, as that was not what he had meant. Some animals ate their young. He was not planning to at this point in time, but the teenage years might be a totally different situation.

Dad!Sukuna who loved your voice and watched with so much love in his heart and eyes as you sang softly while your daughter suckled at your breast

Dad!Sukuna who watched his daughter sleep, always wanting to make sure her chest is still rising and falling, that she is still sleeping peacefully

Dad!Sukuna who knows he is already wrapped around his daughter’s tiny little pinky but would never tell either of you that.

Dad!Sukua who could not wait to hear your daughter say ‘Papa’ and was trying from birth to get her to do it, ignoring your advice that she was too young to speak. She was his child, afterall. Certainly she was already far more intelligent than other babies her age.

Dad!Sukuna who watched you watching your daughter and found himself breathless and speechless - not only by your beauty (you had taken his breath away since the first time he saw you, and he had only grown more attracted to you throughout your pregnancy)- but the look of so much love in your eyes. Love for your daughter. Love for the little life you had created together.

Dad!Sukuna who always thought being called the King of Curses, and being known as the strongest sorcerer there was, would always be what satisfied him. But now, as he lays there with his daughter in his arms, her impossibly small hand trying to wrap around his thumb, he  knows how very wrong he was.

[aclowntiny]

HIIIIII [first I wanna say that I love your work so much and am so happy to meet an atiny/carat writer! I hope we can become moots!]

I do have a request and it is: ateez reacting to s.o kissing their neck

take your time, and good luck with all of ur work, fighting!!

YES WE SO CAN!!! 🥰 Thank you so much for the encouragement love! I hope you love this reaction 😊

Ateez Reaction to S/O Kissing Their Neck

I'll give this my classic rating but up it for this one… 🤏🏻🤏🏻 suggestive hehe 👀👀👀

Hongjoong

You couldn't take the way his eyes devoured you, treasured you, any more. Inhaling, you quickly shut the space between you and Hongjoong, all the lightning tension between you arcing into your joined lips as his grip on your hip tightened. It was a short but passionate kiss, one that had Hongjoong giving you a smile of pleasant surprise afterward.

"Oh?"

"Yep," you replied, "and I'm just getting started."

Pecking his lips several times, you migrated from their softness to trace the beautiful structure of his face, outlining his cheekbone and down to his jaw with your lips.

He gave an exasperated chuckle. "I'm supposed to be the one spoiling you," he said even as he tilted his head to grant you access, smiling impishly down at you.

"Maybe I get something out of this, too," you teased back, kisses resuming in full swing, this time down his neck and into the territory availed to you by his partially-unbuttoned shirt.

"Alright, but anything you're giving me, I'm going to pay back double," Hongjoong tells you with a grin that sends shivers down your spine as you part from his chest to gaze at him.

"H-how are you going to do that?" You faltered slightly underneath that intense gaze you loved so much.

"Let's just say," his lips curl up even further, the hand on your hip drawing light circles, "by the time I'm done, everyone will know you're mine."

Seonghwa

Seonghwa is in the kitchen standing over a mixing bowl of batter when he feels arms snake around his waist and lips against his neck.

He giggles deeply. "That better be (y/n)," he teases.

Your hands nudge his sides, prompting him to set the spoon in his hand down and turn to face you, smiling at the loving expression on your face. His hands wrap around you, too, both of you standing in an embrace against the counter.

“It’s my lucky day,” he keeps joking, leaning down to brush your nose with his, “it is you. My (y/n).”

You smile at the pet name, moving your hands to fall around his neck, which you press one more quick kiss to. “Always.”

He leans down, kisses your forehead first before moving to your cheek, then pecking your lips several times, smiling and exhaling little chuckles against them as you leaned forward for more.

“I have to finish up here! Want to help me?”

You nod, lowering your hands to back hug him again.

“Alright,” he shakes his head fondly at your clinginess, “help me stir, then the real work begins.” He reaches to his waist, taking hold of your hands, placing the spoon in your dominant one and using it to mix the batter as he kept seasoning it.

After that, you dedicated yourself to actual tasks, but each time you passed Seonghwa by, you pressed a kiss to his cheeks or neck, enjoying the surprise and wide, almost childlike smile of joy that crossed his face every single time.

Yunho

It's not like you don't want to do it, frankly, but you mainly want to get Yunho's attention. You're sinking into couch cushions, sunlight lazily filters through the blinds, and Yunho is playing some video game or another. You stopped paying attention, instead visually tracing his focused side profile, eyes drinking in every shift and narrow of his own, the way his thumbs dart over the controller.

Watching your boyfriend play doesn’t bother you, but you are getting a bit bored. He isn’t always granted a surplus of free time, after all, & the most selfish voice of your mind is vying for the argument that he should spend it with you. Instead of whining, though, which you have the sense to realize no one enjoys, you simply scoot in closer, cushions creaking faintly beneath you, and gently run your fingers over Yunho’s jawline, pulling close enough to press your lips to his neck. As badly as you want his lips on yours, interrupting a man’s game is never a good idea.

He tenses a bit beneath your touch, breaths coming a little faster. “Wh- what are you doing?” He asks.

You press a few more kisses, moving a bit lower each time. “I don’t know, you’re playing your game, I just want to appreciate you.”

“Maybe when I’m done with this round-”

“Maybe when you’re done with this round…”

You both spoke at the same time. Giggling into his neck, you get closer still, legs pressed against his as he gave a few giggles of his own.

“Maybe what?” You ask, tilting your head so that he’s almost forced to face you.

“Just wait and see,” he smiles, leaning forward to place a quick peck to your lips before his focus returns to the screen.

Yeosang

You and Yeosang were on the couch, both of you on your backs, your head resting over his heart. Neither of you had spoken for a bit, just enjoying the small sunbeams filtering in through the window as you played gently with Yeosang’s hand that was slung over you.

On a whim you turned slightly, careful that your hip wouldn’t dig into him, and leaned up just a little bit higher, your head reaching the crook of Yesosang’s neck. Your lips fell into place, ghosting over his skin at first, but when you felt him shift a bit beneath you, clearly starting a little at the sudden warmth, it spurred you on.

This time, you kissed him unabashedly, giving the exposed skin long, slow appreciation. Drawing out every motion you possibly could. Your hand that was playing with his gave it a little squeeze.

“What’s this?” Yeosang asks, eyes wide and sounding a bit flustered.

You can’t help but giggle at the pure and wholesome man you love so much. “You mean you don’t know?” You reply.

“Well, ah, I mean…” He stutters as you place the longest, most lingering kiss yet at the very base of his throat, a small gasp escaping with the trailed-off words.

You lift yourself up on your elbows, pulling up still so your heads are in line and sparing your boyfriend, just rubbing your noses together with a smile. “Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, starting to lay back down, but his hand catches yours.

“No,” he says, gaze following yours down, “please continue.”

San

“Sannie, no!” You giggle, running away from your boyfriend, with whom you are currently locked in a playful chase along the grass.

He’s proudly brandishing a water gun, smug grin more than evident on his face as he barrels toward you. “Sannie, yes!”

“No!” You exclaim, turning on your heels and running around a garden wall, stopping to catch a few shaking, laughing breaths.

You’d tossed a water balloon at him, your entire arsenal, and now San sees fit to get you back for it. His revenge is quite disproportionate in your eyes, for even with as warm as it was you aren’t exactly in the mood to get soaked.

San is close; the grass rustles and he whispers “I’m gonna get you!”

“Not today!” You shout back, peeling out from around the wall and back towards those of the house, bare feet padding against the soft green grass.

San quickly catches up, giggling as he backs you into a corner, raising the blue and green plastic abomination in his hand. It’s going to take a massive trump card to escape this one…or maybe you’re overthinking it.

Stepping forward in the little space you have left, you reach your arms around San, hands gently running up and down his back. His smug expression immediately begins softening, the gorgeous soft eyes you love on him starting to pop out. With a smile, you lean in to give his neck a few kisses, feeling him crane to open up more as you do so. He’s warm beneath your touch, pulse pounding from all the running; you kiss right over the pulse point, wondering if you can make it go even faster.

Before you can wonder much more San is sweeping you into his arms, booping your nose and telling you how cute you are before yanking you into his lips. One hand holds you, the other reaches up into your hair, and as your lips move against his you slide San’s offending water rifle closer to you with your foot, stepping down on it as hard as you can. San trails kisses of his own down your neck before peppering your cheeks, expression melting at the fact that you initiated affection.

When you finally separate, San ruffles your hair and giggles. You step back a bit, holding up your contraband water rifle. “So, truce then?”

Mingi

"I can be cool!" You protested against Mingi's teasing. You know he thinks you're the coolest person alive, but you and your boyfriend had gotten into a playful debate on if you could be a rapper.

"Oh, yeah? Prove it, then," Mingi shot back with a grin.

"Ok, fine," you all but pouted, "I will."

Giving him a light shove, you watched him stumble back a little, taking the opportunity to lead him a couple more steps until his back hit the wall. Leaning forward, you rested your left palm against it at his side, eyes traveling up to his in the best approximation of the classic pose as you could attempt. Mingi's jaw dropped a bit, raising the corners of your lips in a satisfied smile. You leaned up and placed a kiss to his neck.

"See? I can do the bad boy pose. I'm cool," you say as you start to walk off.

Mingi's hand catches your left hand as it peels from the wall, though, and you feel the tug, turning back to face him with a tilt of your head. He's looking at you with doe eyes, his buggy expression of surprise fading to affection.

"You are cool, but don't take my job," he says.

You giggle, and he reels you back into his chest, your hand falling there as his that isn't holding yours rests on your back, bringing you forward into an electrifying kiss. You feel his heartbeat beneath your palm, the way his hand lightly squeezes and plays with yours as your lips move in sync. You trap Mingi again as he pulls away, this time not against the wall, but with his forehead against yours.

"You have nothing to worry about, my cool guy."

Wooyoung

It was all impulse, really. Wooyoung was teaching you a couples’ dance he wanted to try, and frankly it was quite…intimate. A bit Latin-inspired, it had some close moves that reminded you of the tango followed by him pulling you close. When he did that, he also rolled his head back, exposing the skin of his neck and making that much more of a show from his quite notably unbuttoned black shirt.

Wooyoung viewed his body as part of the art and you couldn’t help but agree. The third time you practiced getting swept into his arms, his head rolling away as you were held against the warmth of his chest, his heart hammering beneath you, you leaned forward, your lips finding his throat like they were magnetized there.

You felt him give a deep hum beneath you as he, rather than step into the sequence's next move, immediately slid both of his hands to be flush around your waist. When you pulled away slightly, Wooyoung attacked, his own lips latching onto the spot above your collarbone. His hips angled, drifting forward until they were fully flush against yours.

"So this is what you want, huh?"

"Well," you teased, voice low as Wooyoung’s lips traveled down and then back up, “seems like you do too."

"Of course," he agreed as he trailed kisses up your neck and to your cheek, "why would I not?"

Jongho

It was one of your greatest joys in life to have such a sensible, loving boyfriend at your side. However, he wasn’t the most into physical touch, at least not nearly as much as you were. Sometimes Jongho just needed some encouragement.

He lay at your side, half under the sheets and half out, just plaintively staring at the ceiling as he rested on his back, not one part of him touching you. You felt your lips fall into a pout, wishing he would cuddle with you now that your bedtime conversation had ceased, dreamy words subsiding in favor of that near-sleep contemplative state.

You knew part of it was that he didn’t want to overstep boundaries, didn’t want to disturb you. But if that was the case, you considered as you shifted in the sheets, mattress creaking a bit beneath your motion, it was your job to show him he would not be disturbing you in the slightest. And you knew exactly what would flip Jongho’s affection switch.

Scooting closer to him, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, snuggling into his neck and kissing him before he could protest or question the sudden gesture. Sure enough, you felt Jongho relax, firm muscles melting still after a momentary freeze. As you nuzzled in, lips still traveling, he tilted his head, giving you greater access, and you smiled. Jackpot.

Jongho loved it when you kissed his neck, and you sure didn't mind taking advantage of that fact, especially right then. He flipped over from his back to his side, suddenly facing you, those big beautiful eyes you loved staring intently.

"Why this all of a sudden?"

"Because I love you," you replied, eyelashes fluttering.

"Well, let me return the favor, too," he told you, propping his head up with one hand.

You couldn't resist a smile as he pulled you closer.

[dipperscavern]

cheeky anon here to slay the day - basically I was chatting to my friend abt Jon Snow and I was like 'yeah he's got a cool sword.... a cool.... sword....'

and then I started thinking abt Jon whipping Longclaw out whenever his girl is being bratty (obvs not in a stabby way) and just like... using the handle on her? 😭

'there's a good girl, not so rowdy now, are y'?'

idk bro im just a longwhore for longclaw

cheeky anon… you are such a genius for this. i am genuinely drooling. THE DIALOGUE? ITS SO ACCURATE? HELLO BECOME A WRITER

you’re pent up. frustrated that nothing has gone your way all day. you’re fidgeting, like you always do when you don’t know how to fix what’s bothering you. your usual solution is to busy yourself until you feel better, but it’s late at night. you can’t unwind, and even worse, you can’t distract yourself. jon eventually has enough of seeing you squirm.

he pulls you to his lap, and he knows what you need. it’s not long before you’re relaxing, sighing into his lips because gods, he’s fixing it. he’s still dressed, longclaw sheathed to his waistband — and that’s when he gets an idea. his hands move to your hips, pulling you closer, and your clothed cunt bumps against longclaws handle. you sharply inhale, small sparks of pleasure coursing through you. you go to move off of the handle, embarrassed, but jon’s firm grip keeps you in place. you look up at him with parted lips, and you watch his pupils dilate.

“You trust me?”

you nod, and he moves to rearrange you both. he takes off his shirt, leaving him bare-chested as he leaves his bottom half covered, with longclaw still attached waist. you undress yourself, eager for relief, and whatever jon has in mind. you swallow, unsure, but he reaches out for you and pulls you to him. his hands find purchase on your hips as your lips connect, and slowly, he guides you against the handle — adjusting the angle to make it hit you just right. you whimper his name at the unfamiliar feeling, and jon feels blood instantly rush to his cock. you put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, burying your moans in the crook of his neck. warmth pools in your abdomen as longclaws handle catches on your pearl, and you hear jon’s voice close to your ear.

“There’s a good girl… not so rowdy now, are y’?”

you sigh, pleasure raking up your spine. jon bites back a groan at seeing your slick cover longclaws handle, and he watches your frustration melt away with every rock of your hips — his hands smoothing over any part of your skin he can reach. he hums at the way you melt into him.

“‘Js needed some help, huh?”

[annymation]

Reimagining the characters in Wish

(Part 1- Asha)

Hey guys! I don’t really know how to start this, but let’s just say that I… Didn’t like how Disney’s 100th anniversary movie turned out, like at all.

But I can tell there was a lot of unexplored potential beneath this story, that in my opinion felt overly simple and bare bones.

But if you love it, that’s awesome, more power to you, I wish I could’ve loved it too. And I don’t want to rewrite it to show I’m “better than the writers at Disney” because I’m definitely not lol, I have no experience in writing, and I’m sure they put a lot of passion into the project and I respect them for that. But this movie inspired me with ideas for a different story that I think is worth telling.

But I won’t start telling it today, instead, I'll start a series of blogs sharing my ideas for changes in the characters and their stories, after I get some feedback I will start posting more of the story itself.

If you’re interested, then come along!

Asha✨

Personality

- Asha is a 18 year old girl, with a passion for drawing and helping those around her, sometimes even worrying more about helping others than helping herself

- She’s like a big sister to her 7 friends, always being the voice of reason and acting responsible, but not in a bossy way, she’s actually very playful with them

- To the people of Rosas tho, she's seen as kind of a weirdo, for you see, she spends almost every time of the day drawing in her sketchbook

- She practices everyday to become a better artist, and the people of Rosas find this to be very peculiar, after all, why would you take so much effort to perfect a talent when you can simply wait to turn 18 and wish for the king to make you an amazing artist?

- Asha doesn’t mind these comments, although they have made her less willing to share her drawings with others that aren’t her 7 friends

- As the story progresses we see Asha flourish from a shy and introverted girl to a brave woman who after discovering a terrifying secret about the kingdom’s rulers, steps in and inspires others to join her and fight an evil sorcerer king and his alchemist wife (yes, I made Amaya an alchemist, more on that on part 2 when I talk about how I’d change Magnifico and Amaya)

- Some Disney characters that share similarities with her personality wise are: Belle, Tiana, Pocahontas and Esmeralda

Main Traits:

Calm and mature

Determined

Passionate about her interests (drawing, dancing, philosophy and stars)

Helpful and generous

Perceptive and always questioning things around her that no one pays attention to (like why do all the artists only paint the King and Queen?)

Playful

Compassionate

Backstory

Oooh boy I gave this poor girl so much angst, okay let’s go

Asha grew up with her grandfather, her parents both died in a fire when she was just a baby

(this isn’t just to fit the “haha Disney princess has no parents” cliche, there’s plot relevance in this “mysterious fire” that I’ll talk about later)

Growing up with her grandpa, he’d always support her dream to be an artist, like her mother, who was an art teacher

Her mother not only drew really well, but she also was able to create the illusion that her drawings could move, by flipping through the pages of her sketch books

In other words, her mom was an animator

Asha saw this technic her mom used as a form of magic, so she would often tell her grandpa she wanted to “Do magic just like my mom”

Her father was a philosopher (this was established in the actual movie but never explored haha whyyyy), who taught people that working hard to achieve your dreams is not only rewarding, but also essential, because it’s part of the human nature to persevere and fight for what we believe, even if we fail, even if it’s hard, just keep moving forward.

This philosophy may sound very “umm duh” for me and you since we all know and hear everywhere nothing in life comes for free… But that’s not the case in Rosas

In this rewrite the kingdom wasn’t created by Magnifico, but rather the kingdom has existed for many generations, being ruled by different kings before Magnifico who also granted wishes… but I’m getting ahead of myself.

The point is that the culture of just asking the king to give you or make you whatever you want to be has been in this kingdom’s culture since forever, so when Asha’s dad comes out saying “hey! Maybe we should stop just relying on the king to make our dreams come true, right?” He’s actually being quite a revolutionary… and sharing a very dangerous belief to other people…

At this point you might suspect what caused that “mysterious fire”

So, back to Asha, growing up with her grandpa, they shared a lot of happy memories together. Reading her father's books and her mother's art books helped Asha connect with them even tho she never had them in her life.

But as her grandfather grew older, he became senile.

Asha went from being taken care of by her grandpa to being the one who took care of him when she was still around 13 years old, and when she turned 15 her grandfather passed away of old age

Asha went on to live with her best friend Dahlia, the two became like sisters.

Though she managed to move on from the loss of her grandfather, she could never shake the feeling that he died without getting his wish granted... But she had no way to prove that, it was just a feeling

The wish granting system works different in my rewrite, instead of there being a public wish granting ceremony once a month, there would only be a public wish TAKING ceremony, that would work just like in the movie, you turn 18, you go give your wish to the king yada yada yada.

But the wish granting part would work like this: Almost every night the king would release the wishes up in the sky, they would float down like balloons to their respective owners while they sleep, and once they woke up in the morning they'd feel that their wishes were granted, for they would wake up changed.

With this method, there's no way of confirming if someone really got their wish granted or not, unless you went to ask the king.

Asha never did ask the king if he granted her grandfather's wish, but her grandfather would sometimes express how he wasn't feeling completely fulfilled in his life, he felt like there was something... missing.

This feeling of hollowness persisted in him until the very end, no matter how hard Asha tried to help her grandfather, she never knew him as his real self, because he gave part of his soul to the king, the most beautiful part of his soul, his wish.

Asha had no proof that her grandfather didn't get his wish granted, only a gut feeling.

But because of this, Asha wasn't that thrilled to give her own wish to king magnifico, knowing there was the possibility of it never being granted.

Not to mention she didn’t even know what to wish for, “I’m just 18 and you guys expect me to already know what’s my heart’s deepest desire? I’m still figuring that out, all I know is that I wanna draw”

Plus she wanted to follow her father's philosophy and achieve her wish on her own, eventually, when she figured out what her wish even was.

Asha never rebelled against the system tho, she wasn't a confrontational person. She just accepted the people of Rosas preferred to rely on the king's magic, but that just wasn't for her.

However, on her 18 birthday, when it was expected of her to give her wish to the king, she simply said she didn't have a wish, and even if she did she wouldn’t want to hand it over, she wanted to make it come true on her own. This lead to an argument with the king, and after a series of events (that I don't have time to summarize here, but you can find out about it on my rewrite) leads to her finding out a terrible truth about her kingdom. And that's how her story begins.

Design

- I’d keep these braid ornaments that Asha had in the concept art

- Since in my rewrite she’s not that invested in the kingdom of Rosas, I’d remove all the Kingdom of Rosas symbols that are present in her design (there are a LOT of them)

- I’d replace these Rosas insignia with more star and constellations themed symbols, to reflect how Asha believes that the stars are connected to people and they can guide us, just like how her father believed.

Final Thoughts

My intentions with these changes were to give Asha a strong emotional hook, and something that makes her feel relatable.

The emotional hook here is how she spent so much of her life taking care of her grandfather that she kinda never had time to worry about her own desires, that alone can be relatable to caregivers of elderly people that watch their grandparents or even their own parents lose themselves as time passes, and end up worrying more about the person they’re taking care of than themselves.

Asha has this internal emotional conflict where she feels she needs to constantly help others the same way she helped her grandfather, and one of the things she’ll learn as the story progresses is that it’s not selfish of her to want more for HERSELF.

Another thing that would be relatable about Asha is her passion for drawing, and how most people in Rosas would say she’s wasting her time practicing so much when she can just wait until she turns 18 and wish to be amazing at drawing.

She’d never stop believing that taking her time to improve on her talent and trying again and again was worth every second of her time, because let me tell ya folks, drawing is HARD, and animating like Asha’s mom did is even HARDER, it takes a whole lot of practice, and Asha was determined to keep trying.

She’d be much like Belle, remaining true to herself even tho those around her considered her odd, and very passionate about drawing just as much Belle was passionate about reading.

I also find it funny how Asha’s motivations are fairly down to earth, like in Disney movies you usually have:

I want to be free from these palace walls!

I want to explore the ocean!

I want to open a restaurant!

I want to find true love!

And then there’s Asha here like

“My life is fine, I just wanna chill and draw stuff”

And that’s it, but, in her environment where everyone is expected to have this great wish that they have to give to the king so he’ll make it a reality, she’s kinda the odd one out, and I love that. Would be a great subversion of the Disney formula.

Of course after she learns Magnifico and Amaya’s true intentions she gets a lot more agency and the desire to save her people, her “call for adventure” if you will.

But what are Magnifico and Amaya’s true intentions? Click here for part 2 and find out!

Thank You For Reading!