#like from anyone else this would have just been a thoughtful gift (and more appreciated than the horse)

[chaseprice]

Hi friends, as soooome of you already know, me and Jenny had been planning to get gay married (👩‍❤️‍👩🏳️‍🌈💍👰‍♀️👰‍♀️🏳️‍⚧️👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩✈️) late summer, and hopefully get the ball rolling on an long/tiring/complicated/expensive immigration process to finally live together. We were never gonna have or want an expensive or traditional wedding by any means, but we were hoping to at least meet up with some friends and comfortably take a couple weeks off of work before not seeing each other again for who knows how long. as our close friends know, there's been lots of ups and downs logistically and financially and mentally and work-wise over the past year, but we'd finally thought we'd be able to save up enough time off and have enough savings for it to not just be like, a courthouse date then getting a cheeseburger at the mall.

Anyway, unfortunately due to circumstances changing (ultimately, probably good circumstances, but ones that have been disappointing in the short term and forced us to rethink things), the only option now for us to meet and get married is not only gonna be a much shorter trip, but much sooner (as in, two weeks from now), and we are not gonna have the time off/funds we thought we might. 😔 It's been a struggle to achieve the ounce of stability we've currently got so it would be nice to not have to give this up for the sake of marriage - Jenny taking two weeks off unpaid and me paying for flights has definitely taken a toll on our finances already.

So... absolutely no pressure, however, if anybody wanted to give a 'wedding gift'... any kind of donation would be incredibly appreciated by both of us. Anything we receive would be put towards paying for rent given the unpaid time off Jenny is having to take, costs for food/drink for a small gathering with friends, the marriage license, and anything else would go towards our moving costs. but yeah, not only would it be nice for our marriage to feel a little more special, it would really help us with our goal of finally being able to take care of each other (i.e. me rescuing Jen from the hell-country) and not be in precarity all the time

Anyway yeah, thank you so much in advance if anyone is in a position to/wants to help out 💞💞

You can donate here: C*shapp: chickinparm P*ypal: jennyparm V*nmo: chickinparm

[artino-c]

in retrospect this is such a funny gift:

The Mede ambassador, Melheret, gave the king a scroll. "I was so hoping for a statue," the king commented ungraciously as he received it. Most of those who heard him looked uncomfortable. The ambassador smiled condescendingly and said, "This is a story of my people, Your Majesty, the Epic of Omarak, who overreached and was struck down for it. I thought you might find it instructive." "Ambassador, I will surely give it the attention it deserves," the king promised.

#tqt #queen's thief #melheret spends his entire time as ambassador in bitch eating crackers mode #but in doing so identifies the major theme of the last book of the series #also. there's probably a cut scene where gen and sophos both read this and are super into it?? #like from anyone else this would have just been a thoughtful gift (and more appreciated than the horse)

[averyakuma]

Secret Admirer

Pairing - Alastor X fem! Reader

Plot - Fluff, building up friendship, secret admirer, physical contact? 🫢

A/N - I’m either gonna cringe so bad at this prompt or really like it 😁 also I cannot sleep it’s almost 2am 😪😢

It’s has been only a couple of months ever since Charlie brought you in to stay and work at the Hazbin Hotel, and let’s say you felt home sweet home.

Even though you were still adjusting to the new place over all, it was definitely better than staying with roommates who wouldn’t even pay for their part of the rent, you were scrolling on your phone, slightly tilted to the couch arm. You were bored out of your mind, you finished all your tasks, and it didn’t look like the others needed help with their jobs. You couldn’t help but think about a special someone in mind, Alastor.

At first, you and Alastor seemed to hate each other, but the more you both got to know each other, it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. You put down your phone on your side and turned it off, thinking deeper. Of course, he’s such a tease with his sinister smile of his, but you thought it was charming.

When you were done thinking about this ‘deer’ of yours, you felt a pair of eyes on you. You looked around to see if anyone was there except for husk because obviously he was working at the bar, but nobody else to be seen. You shrugged it off. As you were about to switch apps, someone had snatched your phone out of your hands, it was Alastor.

“I already told you my dear, no phones allowed in this hotel.” He held your phone with his two fingers, like it was something disgusting or smelly. You sighed while looking up at Alastor, as it was already the fifth time this week he had done this. He took your phone, gave you a lecture, and then make it disappear. “Why do you care so much? Plus how long have you been watching me? I thought you were up in your radio tower.” You said as you stood up, crossing your arms.

Alastor was slightly stunned for you to know how he was watching you from afar, as your secret admirer it was kind of hard to keep it in. “Well dear, we don’t want the V’s to get to us y’know, plus your eyes are glued to it, why not focus your eyes on me instead?” He tilted your head to look up at him. You slightly gulped with nervousness, but shook it off immediately.

“Whatever, I’m gonna go to my room, bye Al.” You scoffed as you sat up, walking to your own room. Alastor watched you walk away, sighing once out of his sight. He didn’t mean to make you annoyed at him, but it was just the honest truth.

You were obviously tired of Alastor doing this. As you slammed your door behind you, you plopped down on your soft bed, groaning in your pillow. You turned your head to the side to look at your clock on your bedside, with a picture of you and the others hanging out with each other, and having genuinely good time. You picked it up and smiled at it, and put the picture frame back.

After a few hours, you heard a knock on your door. You turn your head to ask, “Who is it?” No response. You sigh and open the door , you look down to see a little gift box. You pick it up and turn around, still having the door opened. You look at the tag that says, ‘From Alastor’ You smile at it, opening the box to see a letter and your souvenir.

You open the letter to read,

To my dearest,

I apologize for taking your phone, again.. I’m just saying all this and that because I don’t want the V’s to ruin the hotel, I hope you understand.. I let a souvenir for you so it hopefully distracts you from your electronic.

-Alastor

You smiled warmly again and hugged the souvenir and letter, appreciating it. You felt a pair of warm hands wrap around you from the back, making you stunned. Alastor snuggled his head into your neck, his smile cracking a little. He muttered, “I’m sorry, I hope you can forgive me” and snuggled closer, tightening his grip. You never seen him like this before, after all he was the Radio Demon.

“I forgive you.”

Pecking his cheek.

AGGHHHHH THIS IS SCTUALLY SO CUTEE

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #fluff #snuggles #secret admirer #alastor x reader #oneshot #headcanon #alastor x female reader #character x reader

[renoed]

sweet tooth | halsin x reader

❥ — PAIRING halsin x afab! reader

❥ — SUMMARY Halsin had been tiptoeing around your advances since you had met; he had made his eagerness clear to you but refused to follow through with it, always with something else on his mind. The more he opens up to you, though, the weaker his resolve is to stay entirely focused on other, supposedly more important matters.

# NSFW, MDNI: smut below the cut, outdoor sex, food play (specifically honey), oral sex, spit, praise, fingering, finger sucking

"If I manage to break the curse… perhaps then I can show you just how grateful I am."

Halsin had been tiptoeing around your advances since you had met; he had made his eagerness clear to you but refused to follow through with it, always with something else on his mind. The more he opens up to you, though, the weaker his resolve is to stay entirely focused on other, supposedly more important matters. It isn't until tonight that you notice it.

When you set up camp, you notice that he's put his tent quite a distance away from anyone else. You often found him in a location that was further from everyone (he liked his solitude, you assumed), but the space between your tent and his would make it seem as though you were strangers. From your place next to the campfire, you could hardly see more than an outline of the druid.

It's when he doesn't join you for food that you begin to worry - had he decided he didn't want to travel with you anymore? Was he going to leave without warning?

"Gale," you grab the brunet's attention after you finish eating, "thank you again for cooking. I was wondering: do we still have that honey? I remember Halsin saying he has a sweet tooth—I thought it might be appreciated."

Gale's lips quirk up at your question, a suggestive eyebrow raising as he answers your question, "I believe we do, you should be able to find it—unopened—in that trunk besides the other camp supplies. I hope you make better use of it than I have."

You try your best to ignore the implication of his words, but suddenly the camp fire feels a lot warmer and the cool breeze is soothing against your cheeks. As you walk off, mumbling a thanks, you hear a light laugh from the wizard.

With a jar of honey and a small satchel of berries (you had remembered picking them up a few hours prior, excitedly rummaging for them in your bag) in your hands, you stood a few feet away from Halsin's tent, trying to find the courage to start a conversation. Usually it didn't feel difficult; if anything, you found him to be one of the easiest to talk to. But with the thought of him no longer wanting to travel together—no longer enjoying your company—it was as though you had become enwebbed, unable to move closer.

It felt like you were there for tens of minutes before Halsin appeared from his tent, turning to look at you, a soft 'oh' leaving his lips.

If you weren't already stuck in place, you had become so when his eyes met yours.

"I didn't realise you were here, apologies," his voice is gentle and he steps towards you in the dark, "did you need something?"

You look down at the jar in your hands and will yourself to speak, "You didn't eat with us, so I wanted to make sure everything was alright, I suppose."

A beat.

"—And I remembered you telling me you liked sweet things. I wanted to give you this."

Halsin lets his eyes drift down to your hands, which were now outstretched, before meeting your gaze again. His lips curl up into a smile and you swear that you can see the stars reflected in his eyes. It hits you that, if he really is thinking about leaving, you might not get another opportunity to talk to him like this again.

"I don't know what I've done for a gift, but thank you. Really."

He takes a step closer, taking the items in his hands, as he continues, "I'm sorry for not joining you, my mind has been rather… preoccupied, and I thought it best to spend some time alone. I've also been enjoying the company of the stars: aren't they beautiful tonight?"

You shift your eyes to look at the night sky. A crescent moon hangs amongst a cluster of stars, stretching out across the darkness. He's right, they are beautiful.

"You said you've been preoccupied? If you need my help, you know I'm just an ask away," the sincerity of your words causes a small chuckle to leave his lips, gaze falling from the sky to his feet.

"Believe me, I would love for you to help, but that would be an unfair request."

The statement is slightly confusing; he seemed to have no issues asking for help with considerably difficult tasks prior. You could hardly fathom the sheer size of a task was if Halsin felt he couldn't ask for your help.

Betrayed by your expression, he lets out another laugh, louder this time, "you misunderstand, it's simply a matter of personal frustration. Unfortunately, I've managed to get rather pent up."

It isn't until you hear those words—'pent up'—that you realise the meaning behind them. You recalled him making an off-hand comment at the Tiefling party about how he was ‘sure that we could get out any pent up feelings'. He had never acted on his words, of course, but he had put them out there nonetheless.

"It wouldn't be unfair at all," your voice comes out quieter than you intend it to, "actually, I'd be more than happy to help and I think you know that, Halsin."

His eyes meet yours again, expression still soft and gentle under the soft glow of the moon. He takes a step towards you, so that your chests are almost touching. You don't break eye contact, newfound confidence surging through you.

He brings his face close to yours, peering down at you, “you’re sure it would be alright?”

You nod in response, his eyes momentarily widening before he uses his free hand to lightly hold your upper arm. His voice is a soft whisper when it leaves his mouth, “Gods, I can’t tell you how long I have wanted this.”

Halsin closes the space between you, drawing you into a kiss. His hand shifts from your arm to your cheek, the pads of his fingers are rough on your skin but they’re the last things you’re thinking about with his lips pressed to yours.

The kiss is quick, almost polite in its softness, and as Halsin pulls away, you feel your brows furrow.

“Your expression betrays you,” there's a humour to his tone, “would you like me to try again?”

You answer his question with another kiss, hands wrapping around the back of his neck and fingers tangling into his hair. It's deeper this time, more passionate, needier, and when Halsin's tongue brushes against your bottom lip, you're quick to comply with the silent request.

When you lightly tug on his hair, parting from the kiss, a low groan tumbles from his lips and rushes straight through you.

"You're good at this," his thumb brushes your cheek as he kisses you again. His kisses move down your face and neck, occasionally licking and biting at the skin until a shaky exhale leaves your lips. Your legs feel weak and every inch of you is warm, rushed heartbeat echoing in your ears; if you weren't so distracted you'd assume he could hear it.

When he pauses his movements, you take the opportunity to tug on his hair again, letting one of your hands fall from his neck to his chest, slowly getting lower, "just good?"

He hums when your finger tugs on his waistband, "amazing. Perfect, even."

You slide your hand underneath his shirt and he takes a sharp inhale at the contact. It had been so long since the last time someone had touched him like this; it had been longer since he had wanted to be touched—and to touch—so desperately. As you try to lift his top, though, he pulls back and gestures to the jar in his hand. You expect him to just put it down and continue, however you're left slightly disappointed when he breaks away from you entirely and opens the jar. His fingers dip into the jar, pulling out a string of glistening, viscous honey and bringing it to his lips.

You're left to watch helplessly, his tongue dragging from the base of his fingers to the tip and humming at the sweetness of the substance. It was impossible not to let your mind cloud over with images of those same fingers covered with your slick, dipping them into his mouth.

"Come here," it's a command, but it's gentle, easing you into doing as he says, "try some."

Halsin dips his fingers into the honey again, this time lifting his fingers to your lips. You take them in your mouth and run your tongue across them, enjoying the taste of the honey but entirely more focused on keeping your gaze locked with Halsin's. He lightly pumps them in and out of your mouth, cursing under his breath when you move your head to match the gentle pace.

You'd become used to Halsin being so composed and articulate—seeing him reduced to swears and fervent touches made you crave more of him, releasing his fingers and pulling him into another feverish kiss. You both moan into it, hands wanderings across each other's bodies: groping and grasping, trying to remove articles of clothing without pulling your lips away.

His hands land at the top of your thighs, tugging on them in a request for you to jump and hook your legs around his waist. He holds you in one arm with ease, using the other to tug at your shirt.

You kiss his neck, his grip tightening around you in response as his eyes flutter closed to enjoy the sensation.

"Please," he breathes out your name like a prayer, "I want you."

Leaning back, you stare into his eyes, kissing him again, "Gods, I thought you'd never ask."

Halsin puts you down and you rush to undress each other, sharing kisses whenever your hands aren't in the way. His body is incredible, and you're caught unashamedly staring from your sitting position as he tugs off the last of his clothes.

"You're really beautiful, you know?"

He smiles at your words, letting his eyes wander across you in a similar manner, "beautiful isn't enough to describe you."

When he gets onto his knees you can't help yourself from thinking of the sight as holy.

You watch as he dips his fingers into the honey jar and lifts them above your legs, letting it drip onto your skin like a gold glaze. It's cold and sticky but when he drags his tongue against you, licking the honey with it, you've all but forgotten the feeling.

His other hand, free of honey, lightly trails between your legs before stopping and running a finger between your folds.

"Fuck, you're soaked" if you weren't so eager, you'd be embarrassed. He had hardly touched you, yet your body was already begging for more.

He presses feather-light kisses up your inner thigh, taking his time as he follows and licks at the trail of honey, occasionally stopping to suck and nip at your skin, smiling when a soft gasp is drawn from your lips, "good girl."

Before he stops between your legs, he shifts to your hips and continues his upwards trails. You whine at the feelings of his lips around your nipple, lightly grazing his teeth against it while he thumbs and rolls the other in his fingers. You aren't sure if it's what he's doing or just him, but the touch is enough to make you moan, lightly bucking your hips into him.

"Impatient are we?" he chuckles, kissing back down to your thighs

When he's tasted the last of the honey, spread across the top of your thigh, he moves back slightly and watches as you squirm in anticipation.

"Did you want something else from me?" his voice is low and sickly sweet as he grabs your right thigh, rubbing soft circles in the skin with his thumb.

You nod in response, gasping out a slightly frustrated 'yes please', which is all he needs to start kissing again, trailing up the skin until his lips land on your cunt. He places one more kiss before using his tongue, dragging it upwards until it prods at your clit. You feel yourself throb under him, lightly bucking your hips forward as he drags his tongue in slow, circular motions.

He presses a finger inside you, thrusting a couple of times before curling it up. You moan under his touch, moving a hand to thread into his hair, desperately helping to create friction by grinding against his mouth.

His grip on your thighs tightens and he hikes one of your legs over his shoulder before slipping a second finger inside of you. It's overwhelming in the best possible way and when he leans back, only to spit on your cunt, you feel yourself clench around his fingers.

After a few thrusts, he lowers his mouth back onto your clit, flattening his tongue against it to lick and rub. His unused hand has an iron grip on your thigh, moving it so he could get his fingers deeper inside, curling them into you until a knot forms in your stomach. You instinctively grind your hips against his face, moaning as he begins to speed up. His actions are filled with need and when he feels your thighs twitch he takes that as a sign to continue, building you up to your edge.

You can only whine in pleasure when he moves his hand from your thigh to your abdomen, pressing down on it lightly. Your body twitches again and when he presses his tongue down onto your clit slightly harder it causes your thighs to instinctively close around him, bringing you to orgasm.

Halsin pulls away as you both catch your breath. From his position above you, he can’t help but think you’re the prettiest person he’s ever seen. He takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean, sitting back onto his knees and taking his cock into his other hand. He strokes himself as you shift to sit facing him, legs weak and breathing still heavy.

Leaning forward, you replace his hand with yours before bringing him into another kiss. He grunts when you pull away, circling your thumb around his tip and pressing kisses onto his chest and neck.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks, voice desperate and needy.

“Gods, Halsin, yes. I want this— I want you.”

You can barely finish your sentence before your back is on the grass again, caged in the druid’s arms. He pushes a knee between your legs and lowers himself to kiss you again. You’re ready to start begging him to fuck you when he moves to position himself at your entrance.

He doesn’t move, just lifts his head to meet your gaze with a teasing grin on his face, “I can’t give you what you want unless you tell me.”

You don’t care about your pride, cursing before sputtering out, “I want you to fuck me, please, Halsin.”

The reaction is almost instant. Halsin sinks into you slowly, gently, keeping eye contact until you’ve taken every inch of him. He thrusts into you, drawing out a whiney moan, and leans down to kiss and nip at your lips.

Your name tumbles from his lips, unrelenting as he grabs your waist to push himself deeper into you, “Fuck— you feel so good”

His full attention is on you, moving a hand so he can thumb at your clit while pounding into you. A broken gasp escapes you, tightening around his cock at the touch, which gains a low groan in response. 

You're a writhing mess beneath him, hands searching for anything they can grab onto. Halsin slows his pace so he can adjust your leg onto his shoulder, leaning forwards and sweeping up both your hands into one of his. The position lets him hit even deeper, the feeling is overwhelming, unable to stop the endless string of moans leaving your lips.

His pace is relentless, only slowing to carefully adjust the position so he could keep thumbing at your clit easily. You lift your head and he meets you halfway in a kiss. He leans down to your ear, breathing heavy, and groans out your name, "I want you to cum for me."

Just the words themselves have you clenching around his cock again, but when he presses harder into your clit, already overly sensitive and stimulated, it pushes you over the edge again, moaning out his name. The sensation is enough to have Halsin on the brink of his own orgasm, pace stuttering slightly.

By Gods does he never want this moment to end, he could mistake it for Heaven.

Your name is all he can manage to say as he continues, pulling out of you almost fully before rocking his hips back into you. The hand on your clit leaves to grasp at your hips, pulling you down onto him. He can feel you throb around him, "I'm gonna—"

He pulls out at the last second, decorating your thighs and stomach with strings of his cum. The sight is almost enough for him to bring his tongue back down to your cunt, indulging in you more, but you're both exhausted and it takes everything in him not to collapse onto you.

"Let me clean you up," he manages between heavy breaths, moving away to grab a clean rag and wipe you down, "you're absolutely wonderful, I hope you know that."

Halsin leans down to kiss you; it's tender and gentle, you can't help but smile into it.

"I could say the same for you," comes your reply, "come lie with me?"

It takes no convincing before Halsin is lying at your side, arms wrapped around you. Any thoughts you had had about him leaving the camp are long forgotten and you can feel yourself begin drifting off in the comfort of his warm grasp.

reblogs are hugely appreciated ♡ [masterlist]

#halsin x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate x reader #bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 halsin #baldurs gate halsin #halsin #reader insert #smut #bg3 smut #x reader #renoed

[ja3yun]

Melting Point | P.SH | CH.6

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: fluff, angst, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (m. rec), fingering, dirty talk, switch!ynhoon leaning on dom!hoon, mentions of panic attacks and anxiety, unloving mother, confrontation, anything else lmk! ch. 6 synopsis: after sunghoon's injury, you're making it your mission to care for him, but a surprise visits from his mum and shocking revelations lead you to question everything you have ever felt. wc: 16.6k previous | masterlist | next a/n: surprise! i am gifting you this all a day early <3 i have so much to do over the weekend so you can thank my work for scheduling me crazy hours for this early update. ynhoon stans...i'm sorry. this chapter is a rollercoaster so buckle yourselves in. thank you so much for the love on the last chapter, seeing all your reactions to minhee was...yeah. again, likes, reblogs, feedback is always appreciated!

The day after the incident, you finally summon the courage to visit Sunghoon.

You’ve been in an emotional battle with your head and your heart, wrestling with the decision of whether to give him space or to be there for him during this setback in his career. As his girlfriend, you know you should show support when he needs it most, so you listen to your heart. 

However, you’re still conflicted about one thing: whether to reveal Minhee's involvement in the reason for his injury. The whole ordeal yesterday has left a bad taste in your mouth. Minhee and your mum had planned this sabotage but you have no clue why.

You sense there's more to this than meets the eye, something you don't comprehend, so you’re choosing to keep it hidden for the time being. It's not an easy decision because you've never lied to Sunghoon before but your mind rationalises it as a temporary withholding of information rather than a flat-out lie.

On your way out, you double-check you have everything, but while you’re preoccupied with checking your trusted lip gloss is in your bag, you bump into Minhee.

The atmosphere around you is thick with tension as your eyes meet. You’ve spent the entire night going back and forth in your mind as to why Minhee would do this, mostly because you want to believe he’s a decent human being who wouldn’t sabotage someone else for his own success. 

That’s the part you can’t wrap your head around, the idea that this is for his benefit because there is nothing to gain except getting Sunghoon benched for Nationals. 

Would he stoop so low just to get a better chance at winning first place? It’s so out of character for him. Minhee has always worked exceptionally hard to get the things he deserves, which was evidenced only in the last month with the extra hours practising and perfecting his routine. No logical person would put in hours and hours of grafting just to take the easy way out and eliminate their biggest competition. Even when you both watched the documentary about Tonya Harding, he was the first to say how stupid it would be for anyone to sabotage another skater because the ban would never be worth it if you really loved the sport.

Maybe you just don’t know your brother as well as you think you do, maybe this is his true side coming out. After all, he didn’t know about making it on the Olympic team if he skated well yesterday, and since Minhee’s dream is to be placed on the South Korean skating team, getting Sunghoon out of the way is a sure way to guarantee a spot - he could have conjured up this scheme with your mum.

It’s these conflicting thoughts that come to the forefront of your mind as you look him up and down. Regardless of any reason, he still did what he did, so you snub him, walking past in haste.

“Y/N, where are you going? Why do you have a bag?” he questions your pink overnight bag that you use for long weekends away at Rina’s. You ignore him and boost down the flight of stairs to get your shoes on, “Are you going to his?”

The tinge of sadness in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed, it’s similar to yesterday although anger has seemingly flushed from him, replaced with a guilty conscience. 

“You know I am so why are you asking?” you spit back.

“Are you going to tell him?” he queries quietly.

You can practically feel his heart gaining speed as he asks the question. He knows if you tell Sunghoon, his career is effectively over. It’s why you have such conflicting thoughts about telling your boyfriend because until you know the whole story, is it really worth ending Minhee’s future like that so easily? 

Standing up, you grab your coat, “Why shouldn’t I?” The question is posed to let Minhee tell you exactly what is going on, it’s up to him to let you in on the reason for his actions.

He rubs his face in his hands and shuts his eyes, you can see he’s fighting himself, “I…I don’t know.”

“Really?” you scoff, “You aren’t even going to give me a reason not to say anything? Then what was this all for, Minhee?”

He doesn’t answer, hanging his head down in shame. It’s the glimpses of him like this that are what are going to stop you from telling Sunghoon. The look on his face wasn’t just guilt he got caught but for his actions.

“Tell Mum I’ll be home in a few days,” With that, you walk out and slam the door behind you. 

You take two buses to get to Sunghoon’s side of town which takes about an hour if there’s traffic but luckily for you, there wasn’t. As you stand outside Sunghoon's flat, your heart leaps with excitement and concern. The rhythmic beat of rock music in your headphones works as a distraction. Sunghoon taught you this trick when you first started to hang out, the loudness of the base helps ease your mind, especially if it was flooded with any nagging thoughts about Minhee. 

You've come all this way to be by Sunghoon's side, realising that your attention should be on him rather than getting caught up in the complexity of Minhee's situation. You slightly curse yourself for not just being with him earlier, you should have been here as soon as he got home yesterday.

Chapping the door, you wait for someone to answer; It’ll either be Jay or Jake because you know Sunghoon will be resting, or at least you hope he will be, your boyfriend always had a habit of defying instructions. The loophole he found to start this whole relationship was a huge giveaway.

The door opens, revealing Jake on the other side. His eyes are filled with relief as he recognises your face, "Hey," he says with a small smile, "Sunghoon's resting, but he'll be glad to see you."

You nod in understanding, a part of you thought maybe the almost 16-hour silence would have put him in a sour mood with you. As you enter the quaint flat, you remove your earbuds and catch sight of Jay in the living room, absorbed in his reading. The subdued atmosphere tells you that everyone is attempting to retain a sense of normalcy in the aftermath of recent events.

It’s funny, you didn’t consider how his closest friends would have reacted, this must be hard for them too considering the three of them are inseparable, each in their own field of sports; Jake in football and Jay in rugby, all of them meeting in the same major at University. You’re appreciative of them, they could empathise with him in ways you couldn’t.

The short walk to Sunghoon's room feels like an eternity as your mind races with thoughts about how to comfort him. How do you approach this? Especially knowing what Minhee did. 

Why are you always harbouring a secret from someone you love?

You gently push the door ajar, revealing Sunghoon lying on his bed, his leg bandaged and propped up on a pillow. His eyes, heavy with exhaustion, meet yours, and a small smile plays on his lips as he registers your presence, “Baby,” he exhales softly and outstretched his arms. 

Closing the door, you walk over to him and envelop him in a tight squeeze. You let the gravity of the situation sink in as he nuzzles his nose into your neck, it wasn’t just his ankle that was hurting but his heart.

“I should have come earlier, I’m sorry,” You confess, drawing back to sit on the edge of the bed, “I didn’t know if you needed space or not.” 

Sunghoon shuffles to sit up straighter, wincing as his ankle subsequently moves with him, “I get it, Sweets, really. You don’t have to apologise…it’s a weird situation, y’know?” He widens his eyes for a moment, inviting understanding without verbalising the implications. It was a fucked up scenario, Sunghoon hasn’t once had an injury in his whole career.

Interlocking your fingers with his, you ask the dreaded question, “What did the doctor say?”

“I have 4 days to live,” he jokes in an attempt to make the air lighter between you both but you don’t find it very amusing. You know he’s hurting inside and you can’t stand when he hides it. Sunghoon is strong and dependable but he rarely admits any vulnerability unless it’s got anything to do with you.

Slapping his chest, you narrow your eyes, “Shut up, I’m serious, Hoonie.”

Sunghoon sighed and looked down at the damaged ankle, “It was just a twist, I should be okay in 1 to 2 weeks but that can take me right up to Nationals. I can’t be on my ass for that long, Y/N.” Anger seeps into him, almost as if he’s realising the severity of what lack of training will do to his chances at Nationals.

Can he even go to Nationals now? Did Minhee and your mum get what they wanted? Maybe you should just tell him about Minhee, an eye for an eye and all that other stuff. 

But you need to investigate first and figure it all out before you jump the gun on this. It’s difficult considering Sunghoon is in front of you, cursing at himself for not stopping the practice, this wasn’t his fault. 

As his mouth keeps moving, you slowly start to tune back into what he’s saying once his skate is mentioned, “You saw my skates the night before, they were perfectly fine!” he exasperates, pointing to them at the bottom of the bed. Somehow, being confronted with the evidence of your brother’s crime brings a moistness to your mouth as if you could vomit right there.

The way your face goes a little paler causes Sunghoon to stop his rant, his hand bringing your face to meet his, “Sweets? What’s wrong?” You’ve spent so much time with him that you’re starting to curse how he can read you easily. If he catches a flash of guilt or withholding in your eyes, he’s never going to drop it.

Standing up with purpose, you advance over to where the skates are, curling your fingers around them. "I think having these in your line of sight isn't healthy for you mentally. I'm going to put them away," you say, opening his cupboard and tucking them in. In actuality, you feel compelled to throw them away, realising that their main purpose now is to serve as a horrible memory. With your back to him, you muster the bravery to bring up the topic of Nationals.

“Coach Lee said if I rest it and can get back on the ice just before the competition, hammer in a few practice sessions and see how it goes since I’ve already officially qualified anyway,” The perks of being the best skater in the city, you suppose, “But Coach Kim says it’s too risky and that I could break my ankle if I go back too fast.” 

"Did the coaches say anything about Nationals? Can you compete?" The avoidance of eye contact becomes a shield, a method to ease the weight of the question from your chest. The guilt you harbour is overwhelming as if you were the one responsible for shattering his skate.

It seems you’ve not been the only one fighting with conflict.

"What are you going to do?" you inquire, returning to his side, your hand soothingly rubbing his thigh, a silent promise of support regardless of his decision.

He bites his lip, determination sparking in his eyes. "I'm going to Nationals, I don't care," he declares with unwavering resolve. "I need to do this. I've finally rediscovered my passion, and I can't bear to watch it disappear again, Y/N. I know that if I miss Nationals and the Olympics, I’ll lose the love I have for it, I feel it."

Nodding in understanding, you convey your unwavering belief in him, your smile a testament to your faith. Taking his hand, you bring it to your lips, planting a soft kiss on his knuckles, the action makes his heart skip.

For Sunghoon, the past few hours have been consumed by self-loathing, but your presence breathes new life into him. He hadn’t decided to try to get fit for Nationals right after the doctor gave him the news, it was only after he saw you walk through that door. You were the reason he wanted to prove he could do it because you always brought him back to life.

"Can I help with anything?" you offer, breaking the tender moment.

"You can give me a kiss," he cheekily responds, a playful smirk gracing his face.

Rolling your eyes in mock exasperation, you shuffle closer to his side and lean in, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. The synchronicity of your hearts creates a natural rhythm as they engage in their own intimate conversation.

Grabbing your sides, he guides you to sit over his lap, the new angle giving you more leeway to fully capture his lips, melting them with yours. His hands snake under your top, rubbing the skin of your back, grabbing lightly at your sides.

“I love you, Hoonie,” you murmur into his mouth and you feel him smile happily.

“I love you so much more, you’ve got no clue,” he presses your chest flush to his creating little distance between you. As he goes to buck his hips up, the pressure on his ankle makes him cuss and yelp out in pain.

Drawing back, you look behind you, “Sunghoon! Can you watch your ankle please?” You argue with him, trying to climb off but he holds you there in his lap.

"No, don't," he whispers, stealing another kiss, "I need this ankle to heal up quickly." Groaning, he shifts it into a more comfortable position.

"You'll be back on the ice in no time, baby," you offer a reassuring smile, but he looks at you with confusion.

“I wasn’t talking about that. I mean so I can fuck you,” The tender moment takes an unexpected turn as he expresses a different desire. The tone of his voice was offended, Sunghoon didn’t understand why that also wasn’t your first thought. Sometimes, he really is just a man.

His admission catches you off guard, and you playfully chide him, "You can wait, Hoonie." Cradling his face in your arms, you rub his nose with yours.

He doesn’t seem to like that idea.

______

"Hoonie, baby, do you want a cup of tea?" you call out from the kitchen.

You've been taking care of Sunghoon for the past five days, tending to every one of his needs. Part of this is due to your position as his girlfriend, but there is a deeper purpose lurking beneath the surface. You are well aware that your attentiveness is tinged by a desire to make up for your brother's mistake. You don't know why you're carrying the burden for your brother but you're living with it.

As you hear Sunghoon's ‘yes please’ response, you set about preparing the warm brew. The rhythmic clinking of the spoon against his mug becomes a backdrop to the quiet surrounding the flat. 

“Y/N, can you make me one too?” Jay asks while shoving his gym bag on the counter beside you, a flask in his hand. 

Accepting the flask you fill it up with some tea from the pot and add a dash of vanilla milk, just how he likes it.

Living with the three boys for nearly a week hasn’t been as challenging as you once thought. They’re respectable, clean enough, and have created unspoken boundaries to make sure you are as comfortable as possible. Obviously, you knew Jay and Jake before you moved in temporarily to look after your boyfriend but this continuous time with them has made you realise that Sunghoon surrounds himself with only good people, a reflection of his character.

Handing Jay back the flask, he raised it in a silent expression of thanks before walking away, “See you both later. I made extra lunch so eat it before it goes off,” he points to the pot of curry on the stove before he twirls out the door. 

Entering the room with the steaming cup in hand, you find Sunghoon gazing out the window, lost in thought. He has been getting better at a rapid pace, now able to stand confidently on his ankle, albeit not for a long period of time, particularly when he’s standing still, however, the progress he’s making for his recovery is astounding. 

He had a home visit from the doctor at Belmore to check his ankle and he said he might as well be a superhero with how well he is doing. He also said Sunghoon had a high likelihood of getting back in the rink for Nationals, as long as he kept doing what he was doing.

His attention turns from the outside world to you as he graciously accepts the tea from your hands, "Thanks, Sweets," he murmurs, planting a tender peck on your lips before making his way back to the bed. Seating himself at the edge, he glances over at you, curiosity in his eyes as you plonk down on his desk chair.

"Are you going to class today? Jay could have given you a lift," he inquires, taking a sip of his tea, his gaze lingering over the rim as he watches you.

You've willingly abandoned everything - school, work, even Rina and Allen. The neglect of your actual life becomes a mere consequence of your guilt-ridden state; until Sunghoon is better, focusing on anything else seems impossible. You've informed your professors that you're completing all assignments from home, citing an illness that keeps you from attending classes. Another lie to add to your bank.

Shaking your head, “No, not today. I’m all caught up anyway.”

With a sceptical look, he puts the mug down and walks over to you, each of his arms on the rests of the chair, effectively trapping you in, “Sweets, I love you and I love that you’ve taken care of me this week, but you’ve done enough. You can go to University and I promise I won’t break.”

Deep down, you know he’s right but your guilty conscience aside, this was also a lot more fun. The ability to spend everyday with Sunghoon, waking up to him and making him breakfast in exchange for him making dinner, the random shows you’ve both binged and laughed at, learning every intricate detail of him - it’s been the best time you’ve had in years. It gave you a glimpse into the future of what it would be like to live together.

You meet Sunghoon's gaze, your eyes reflecting a mixture of reluctance, "I know," you concede, "but it's been...nice. Taking care of you, being here with you.” 

“Trust me, I appreciate it more than anything, but I’m fine I promise,” Sunghoon tries to give you some comfort by looking into your eyes and assuring you. You can feel his genuine care for you and your own life. He watches your eyes shift as you look away from him, “It’s not just me, is it? There’s something else going on?”

People on Twitter cry out for a man as attentive as him, they crave it because men these days don’t notice anything. Taylor Swift and Adele aren’t top artists on people’s Spotify because men are great at listening. 

But right now you wish he wasn’t so attuned to you, that he didn’t know you so well because you don’t have the energy, nor the words, to explain to him that you know he’ll be fine, you just can’t face going home.

Because that was the real issue here, wasn’t it? 

You can lie to yourself all you want but that house is the last place you want to be. That house is a labyrinth of unresolved issues. Minhee's actions have put you in a difficult position with your boyfriend, secrets linger in the cracks of the house that only he and your mother are privy to, and you feel like a stranger in your own home. Here, in Sunghoon's space, you can simply pretend that the world consists solely of you and him. It's a comforting illusion, shielding you from complicated family drama.

Sunghoon bends down, despite the strain on his ankle, trying to get eye level with you,

“Baby, you can talk to me.”

"You need your eyebrows fixed," you say quickly, seeking to change the subject. His astonished reaction causes you to quickly break into laughter, "They're getting a little wild, Hoonie."

He tilts his head and furrows his brows. "You want me to believe that my eyebrows are what's bothering you, not something a little more serious?"

You eventually stare into his eyes, mentally pleading with him to drop it and accept that your concern is indeed about his brows. The last thing any of you need is for you to reveal the information you're keeping hidden; it might jeopardise the calmness of this week and, potentially, your entire relationship.

His eyes soften and a small but understanding smile tugs at his lips. He relents, knowing you’ll speak to him sooner or later about your worries, “Alright, come on then,” he slaps his palms against his knees and slowly rises, ignoring the shooting pain that courses from his ankle to his knee. It might only have been a twist but fuck did it hurt.

With sparkling eyes and relief, you follow him into the bathroom, excited to get to work on his brows. It might have been a quick scapegoat to change the course of conversation but his brows did actually need to be tidied up. In only a week they’ve become unruly, the true curse of bushy, perfect, luscious eyebrows.

Opening the cabinet door, he reaches for a new hair shaper; you had bought the pack for yourself just in case that one chin hair made an appearance while you stayed here. He goes to hand it to you but yanks it away before you can grab it, “If you even think of shaving them thin I will 100% break up with you,” his tone tells you he’s joking but his eyes are deadly serious.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you say with a lighthearted giggle and stand in front of him, putting a few dollops of his moisturiser on your fingertip before rubbing it on the area you plan on attacking. There aren’t many straggling hairs but his eyebrows are a trademark, you can’t let them sit even the slightest bit unruly. 

Taking the razor you pop the cap off and reach up to sculpt his brows. Sunghoon is tall but it’s never really been an issue until now as your line of sight is constantly covered by your hand, no matter how you angle yourself. With a little pout, you assess your options.

Sensing the struggle, he chuckles and decides to take matters into his own hands, literally. He sweeps you off your feet, lifting you effortlessly and placing you on the bathroom sink, “Is that better, Sweets?” From this elevated position, you now have a perfect vantage point to tackle his eyebrows. 

Nodding, you place one kiss on his nose before beginning your venture into his bushy brows, cautious not to shave too far in or knick him. With each swipe, you concentrate more and more, pleased with your work. A sudden surge of adoration pings in your heart as you see the way he’s looking at you, accompanied by his thumbs tracing over your hips. In times like this, you wonder how you could ever be so lucky to have someone like him love you.

While you continue working, Sunghoon is thinking the exact same thing. It’s so strange how as soon as he started to spend time with you all those months back, a valve opened up in his heart to pour love out, and as he’s observing you now, he realises that he’s now just flooded with emotions all over his body. He’s happier, more patient, less angry, and just filled to the brim with adoration for not just you, but his life. 

You wouldn’t know it because he hid it well but he was losing himself before he met you. The pressures of skating and university, the coldness from his mother, and the constant image of being arrogant and obnoxious that was posted about him in the media, it all got to him more than he let on. Now, none of that matters; he loves skating again, you actually make him study with you so he’s on top of all his assignments, and the opinions of his mother and journalists are no longer an issue for him - he doesn’t care anymore. 

“I really do love you, y’know,” he says out of the blue, just as you begin on his left brow.

A chuckle escapes your lips because it was so painfully obvious he did, you’ve never felt more seen or cherished in your entire life. Fair enough, the bar was way down to the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, but still, he made you feel on cloud 9 all the time. Even if you argue over different opinions, you never belittle one another or get mad, you talk it out rather than fight. It’s a dynamic you’ve not seen in your personal life before - when your dad was around, he and your mum would scream at one another or just never speak, the complete opposite of you and Sunghoon.

“I love you, too, Sunghoon,” you beam at him so widely you’re showing your gums. If anyone saw the way both of you were in the bathroom, giggling messes and smiling at each other like this, they would slag you off easily. But no one else is here, just you and him. If only it could always be like this.

Getting back to the task at hand, you finish up shaving off the last few bits and tidying the brows up, sculpting them like you’re Michelangelo and he’s David. They look good in your unprofessional opinion but it wasn’t yours that mattered, “I’m all done, take a look.”

As you go to jump off of the sink, he holds you still and shakes his head. Instead, he snakes his arms around your figure and pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on your shoulder as he looks in the mirror behind you. The intimate action has you instinctively wrapping your arms and legs around his body, clinging to him.

You feel him move his head side to side to inspect, “They’re perfect, Sweets. How much do I owe you?” he jokes, squeezing you before pulling back. 

“I charge one kiss per brow,” you tilt your head and bite your lip.

“As long as I’m your only client,” he looks at you with that same playful serious stare, “I’ll even tip you,” he smirks, pushing your core against him. 

Since the injury, you and Sunghoon haven’t had sex and it’s not through a lack of trying. Every time you both get into the swing of things, he either puts unnecessary pressure on his ankle or hits it off something. It’s stupid because at the end of the day, it’s his ankle and not his hip but you hadn’t realised how important a working ankle is during the deed. Even when you attempted to give him a blowjob, the tension in his leg went straight down into it. 

He feels confident in his ankle today, there’s no way it can cockblock him for the 5th day in a row. He wouldn’t let it happen. 

His plump lips cloak yours as his hands grip your ass and manually grind you onto him, eliciting a moan from you. Between your pyjama shorts and his gym shorts, there isn’t much material between you, so you feel each other’s need for one another easily. 

Dancing your fingertips along the nape of his neck, he shivers, a grunt coming from his mouth when you grip the bottom of his hair.

Your attempt at intimacy is short-lived however when you hear keys rattling in the door but Sunghoon won’t let his roommate stop him, “It’s Jake, ignore him,” he continues to kiss you eagerly, the grip on your ass is so tight you’re bound to have marks.

However, when an unexpected voice echoes in the apartment, you both freeze, hearts in your throats.

“Sunghoon? Where are you?” His mother bellows, locking the door behind her.

She hasn’t bothered to come see her son since the accident, once she knew he would be fine, she left him to his own devices. So why is she here now?

Panicked, you push him off, the sudden movement makes him stumble over his ankle, “Shit, baby, sorry,” you whisper, quickly jumping down from the unit. You can hear her footsteps exploring the living room and kitchen.

She still didn’t know about you both, and as terrified as you were of Minhee finding out, Sunghoon was of equal measure about his mother, claiming she was psychotic enough to hire a hitman on you for ‘distracting’ him. Your boyfriend said it as a joke but he was genuinely scared of her reaction to the news. 

Cupping your cheeks, Sunghoon gives you another kiss, and then another, and then another, “Baby, stay here and keep quiet. I’ll get rid of her,” he keeps dragging you to the door, placing urgent kisses all over your face as he backs up. You should tell him to stop considering he’s risking it but his lips are so addictive, “Fuck, what if I pretend I’m not here?”

“Go, Hoonie,” you’re acutely tuned into her footsteps coming up the hall. 

Opening the door, he gives you three more short kisses before turning around, bumping straight into his mum. She startles, taking a step back, clearly caught off guard by his sudden presence, "Sunghoon, why didn't you answer when I called?" she queries.

“Sorry mum, I was having a piss” 

You roll your eyes as you hear him from outside. There had to have been a better way to say that. Their voices get distant as they walk into his room across the hall but you can still hear them enough with your ear pressed against the door. Is it morally wrong to eavesdrop on the conversation between mother and son? Yes, but you’re nosey and none of the three boys keep magazines in the bathroom for light reading.

As Mrs. Park surveys the room, a disapproving huff escapes her lips, exhibiting her dissatisfaction with its current state, "How are you?" she asks in a monotone voice.

Sunghoon shrugs, “Fine, I guess. What are you doing here?” His arms are crossed defensively and his eyebrow quirked, “And where did you get a key?”

Of all the years he’s lived with Jay and Jake, his mum hasn’t so much as stepped foot into the flat so this was a weird situation he’s found himself in. 

She turns to inspect the shelves of his room, running a finger to collect dust, crumbling it away in disgust, “I made a copy one of the days you were training,” Twisting back to face him she continues, “And can’t a mother drop by to see her son when he’s injured?”

Sunghoon, clearly sceptical, could almost burst into laughter, "I got injured almost a week ago, and I could have easily texted you about my condition," he retorts, his narrowed eyes reflecting suspicion.

“I might have been busy rescheduling your appointments but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, Sunghoon,” she doesn’t flinch and neither does he.

The relationship between them is spread thin at this point, merely a transaction of small talk and managerial duties, he acknowledges this and so does she, so the act she’s putting on right now isn’t fooling anyone, “Mum, we’re not exactly known for heart-to-heart chats. What’s the real reason you’re here?”

Scoffing, she matches his stance, crossing her arms, subsequently closing herself off, “I think it was sabotage.” 

You wish you weren’t listening now. Does she know it was Minhee? There’s no way she could, maybe she’s just a sceptical person…or perceptive.

The tension in the room rises as Sunghoon tries to process her words, “Mum, this isn’t one of those bad dramas you watch during the week, my skate snapped, that’s all it was. Plus, no one hates me enough to do that,” he barters with her, the idea that this was anything more than a freak accident made him laugh. 

In the bathroom, you’re freaking out and regretting all your decisions to keep it a secret. If you had just told him, he would have had some respect for you but you know for certain if she does know that it was Minhee and tells all to her son, he’ll lose every ounce of regard for you. 

This is bad.

His mum shakes her head, dropping her arms and going back to snooping around his room, “I think it was Minhee…or Y/N. She is always around that rink when she can’t even skate, that’s a bit suspicious, no?” 

The accusation makes Sunghoon’s blood boil. You have been the one to look after him throughout all of this and his mother dares to think for a second it was your doing he’s in this position. All the care and love you’ve shown him this week alone is enough for the insinuation to filter in one of Sunghoon’s ears and out the other. 

Paying him no mind, his mother continues to the other side of his room, “The whole family is bad news but her? She’s up to something, far too quiet that one,” look on her face only grows with more disgust as she spouts her words.

“You’re ridiculous! Y/N wouldn’t do that. You don’t know shit about her,” he protests angrily, his fists balling by his sides as he tries to remain some sort of composure. Sunghoon would be dead before he let anyone speak badly about you. 

“Fucking stop it. What is your obsession with the Kangs?” He knows he shouldn’t have asked considering you’re in the bathroom and could probably hear every word of this conversation but it was more rhetorical than genuine curiosity.

However, his mum will take any opportunity to slander your family, “Her mother sleeping with the judge to get that scoundrel of a boy a higher ranking at Junior Regionals is enough of a reason. Her whoring around nearly cost you the final.”

Junior Regionals, 2018, the year your dad left because of a rumour your mum had slept with one, possibly two of the judges. Of course, it wasn’t true, Minhee worked incredibly hard to get high scores that year but Mrs. Park couldn’t accept that your brother almost knocked Sunghoon off the top spot. The rumour spread so fast that it almost tarnished everything that Minhee had worked for, there were investigations and everything - judges got fired, your dad divorced your mum, and it was a rough time for everyone in your family.

Sunghoon swallows down what he actually wants to say, “Is it really that serious? It was like what? 5 years ago and so what if I did come second to him? Would it be the end of the world?” 

“If her little plan had worked the way she wanted it to, you wouldn’t have had the opportunity to work with Mr. Son and get the sponsorship that propelled you to fame, you’d be a nobody like Minhee.” 

Rage, unfiltered, pure toxic rage overcomes you. She can say anything she wants about you, even your mum but never Minhee. He has done nothing but grind on that ice for years to prove himself as a main competitor since the accusations. Minhee is top of his league for a reason, he is just as good as Sunghoon is. Did he work on his humble and modest persona to make brownie points in the press? Sure, but his talent can never be questioned.

Reaching for the knob of the door, you’re about to barge in and tell her where to stick her opinion when you hear Sunghoon, “Are my talents not good enough? Did you ever think that Mr. Son wanted to work with me because he saw my skating and thought I’d make a good ambassador?” His voice is pained.

"Be real, Sunghoon," his mother says dismissively, and a heavy silence falls over the room. Your heart hurts for him, and your hand falls to your side, the weight of their conversation temporarily overriding your desire to intervene.

The admiration you’ve held for Sunghoon’s skating since you were little was a testament to his skills. His fluidity and grace were unrivalled, and he was seen as an embodiment of potential by everyone. It's frustrating to witness his mother's lack of faith in his talents. It feels completely unjust that the one who should champion him the most fails to recognise the kind of athlete Sunghoon is.

Sunghoon's shoulders drop, the weight of his mother's doubts and lack of belief in his talents crashing down on him. He lets out a deep sigh as he struggles to find the words to express his disappointment and dissatisfaction. "Don't you get it, mum? All of my years of training, sacrifices, and everything, were all done to prove something. To prove that I can be more than what you expected,” he lets out a bitter laugh, looking up to the ceiling as if to hold in tears, “But I’ll never be good enough for you, will I?”

The room echoes with the heaviness of Sunghoon's emotions, the unspoken tension hanging in the air like a dense fog. As you listen, a profound empathy washes over you, recognising the pain of a son seeking validation from a parent who seems drastically out of reach. He was always so good at comforting you with your lack of self-esteem instilled by your mum because he knew. He knew how it felt to be seen as less than from your flesh and blood.

His mother remains motionless, her stare unwavering and detached. "Sunghoon, the world is cruel. How can you expect to survive if you can't handle critisism? You are skating on thin ice, both literally and figuratively. Your National top spot is up for grabs, this is serious, I don’t have time for your pity party.”

Sunghoon's jaw clenches, a mixture of frustration and resignation etched on his face. He had hoped for understanding but what did he expect from a mother like his? He gathers himself, not letting her words hinder him anymore today, “I’m fine, just go. You’ve checked in and laid your conspiracies on the table, you can go now.” 

Her gaze remains icy. "Fine? Is this what you call 'fine'? Being 20 years old, living with two delinquents, and a twisted ankle to boot? I came here to tell you about the sabotage to spur you on and give you a reason to get better for Nationals. Don’t you want to show up the person who tried to end your career?”

“No one tried to end my career, you’re fucking delusional!” He raises his voice and it makes you jump, the anger portraying in his voice is similar to when he beat up that guy at the party for touching you. Sunghoon never gets angry, not seriously, so you know he’s had enough, “You seem to have a lot of opinions about people I care about, just so you can justify your weird allegations.”

She raises a brow, “You ‘care’ for the Kangs? Is that what I’m hearing?” 

To be fair, it does sound strange if you don’t know the whole context, Minhee and Sunghoon don’t strike anyone as buddies and you and Sunghoon apparently haven’t spoken two words to one another. 

Sunghoon is so overcome with emotions he doesn’t stop himself, “Yeah, I care about them, Minhee is actually a decent guy who I just don’t see eye to eye with. And Y/N, she…she isn’t even any part of this, so keep her name out of your mouth, okay?”

Mrs. Park looks at him with scepticism, “I’m curious, Sunghoon, how you’ve suddenly become so protective over Y/N. What is she to you?” 

You can feel your heart ripping through your chest as your name bounces between their lips, you never wanted to change your name so much in your life. As your palms get sweaty, you hear nothing but silence.

The question hangs in the air, challenging Sunghoon to define the nature of his connection with you. For a moment, he seems caught between the impulse to reveal his true feelings and the desire to shield you from his mother's wicked ways.

“She’s someone who you don’t know and are making wild accusations about, sorry if i have some morals,” he states firmly, eyes unwavering as he stands his ground. He doesn’t want to add you further into this family drama, you’ve been dragged through it enough at no fault of your own.

Despite his best efforts to swerve you out, his mother drags you back in, “You like her, don’t you?” When Sunghoon doesn’t say anything, his mum cackles, “I should have known, all those nights at the rink were to see her, weren’t they?” 

If she wasn’t basically figuring out your secret relationship with her son, you would have given her some props - the woman is smart. 

Sucking his teeth, Sunghoon nods, “Yeah, so what? I’ve been seeing her and we’re happy, doesn’t that just prove your mad theory about her sabotaging my skate null and void?” 

Her eyes flash in disbelief for a moment before she finds her resolve, “You don’t know her, she could have done it. She would do anything for Minhee.”

You want to argue but she’s right, you would do anything. You’re literally hiding in a bathroom as they argue about someone deliberately breaking his skate knowing fine well it was your brother.

“I know her, mum.” 

"What could you possibly know about her?" she responds sharply, the scepticism written across her features

"I know she loves me, and I love her. She wouldn't do that," Sunghoon says firmly, his voice carrying a confidence that fills the room. In the long silence that follows, you can almost imagine his mother's jaw dropping, either that or she’s fainted.

Staring sternly at Sunghoon, she tightens her jaw, a silent attempt to regain control of the narrative slipping through her fingers, “You’re an immature child, Sunghoon, you don’t know what love is.”

“And you do?” he spits back.

For a while, you don’t hear anything except your heartbeat and the air coming through the toilet vent. It's as if the world around you has vanished, and stepping out of this bathroom will transport you to a reality similar to a dystopian movie where there are no survivors left.

This was not an argument meant for your ears, which weighs hard on your conscience. Guilt flows through you like an electric current, yet ironically, it's a conversation that is entirely about you and your family.

Frustration etches deeper lines onto Mrs. Park's face as Sunghoon doesn’t budge. She clicks her tongue and strides towards him, “Fine. But just know your father would be highly disappointed in you right now,” she pushes past him and storms out of the flat, leaving a heavy atmosphere in her wake.

Sunghoon’s heart wrenches at the thought, he feels sick. He’s only ever wanted to make his father proud and now his mum said that. He stands frozen, his gaze fixed on the ground. The weight of his mother's words hangs in the air like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over the room and Sunghoon's heart.

Shock doesn’t even begin to describe your state right now. There is no way she said his dad would be disappointed in him, she said that to spite him because he won the argument, it’s pitiful. Mrs. Park is supposed to be the adult in the situation, yet she handled it like a child. You hate her.

Turning the door handle, you ease your way out of the bathroom, careful not to startle your boyfriend. There’s not a lot you can do for him, her words are a wound that can’t be healed by hugs and kisses. But you have to try.

Tip-toeing into the room, you gingerly place a hand on his arm, “Hoonie?” He jumps slightly but doesn’t lift his eyes to look at you. As you circle to the front of him, you see the water in his eyes and his jaw clenched, holding in anger and hurt.

You reach up to touch his face, stroking his cheek in an attempt to loosen it up but you fail. He is trying to be so strong and not let his emotions overwhelm him but even if he’s fighting them on the outside, inside he is breaking.

“Baby, please don’t listen to her. She is so incredibly wrong,” you speak softly.

His eyes flicker to yours for a split second but it was a mistake, he can see the sympathy in your eyes and it makes him feel weak. He shouldn’t be affected by his mothers words so much, not after he vowed to stop caring about her opinions but the way she spoke so easily about his dad’s disappointment boiled him over the edge, not to mention how she dragged you through the dirt. He felt ashamed for some reason, “Look at me, Sunghoon.”

Pleading with him falls on deaf ears however because he doesn’t dare, knowing he’ll breakdown. Sunghoon has always held it together, even that day he sat rubbing your back on the bleachers, when you hit a nerve he switched from sad to joy in the space of a second, something he’s been so good at his whole life, so why is this influx of sadness any different.

Because she mentioned the two most important people in his life and how the relationships were stained with something negative. Sunghoon obviously knows you wouldn’t corrupt his career like that and he knows his dad won’t be disappointed in him but he can’t help his mothers words poisoning his brain. 

Exhaling slowly, you withdraw your hand from his face and trail it over his heart. It’s beats are irregular, swapping between a regular pace and missing a few pulses completely, his lungs are moving at a faster rate yet his nose and mouth are still.

“Sunghoon, hey, listen to me, okay?” You try to guide him to the chair behind him so he can sit but his feet remain sturdy, “Please, Hoonie, I think you’re going to have a panic attack or something so can you sit down for me?”

All the signs are there. Panic attacks are different for everyone and he might just be going through the motions, but you’re better safe than sorry. 

His entire attention is distant, absorbed in the chaos of his own mind. You can practically see the internal fight in his eyes, the conflict between the emotions and listening to his body. It’s scary because you’ve never seen him like this before.

Sunghoon finally relents, allowing you to guide him to the chair. You crouch down in front of him, placing your hands on his knees, trying to establish a connection. "There we go,” You learned about bringing people down from panic attacks in a mental health first aid course you took years ago. Granted you’ve never used any of the steps on anyone other than yourself, so now would be the perfect time to use it.

Knowing your boyfriend well, he loved it when you lay on top of him, the weight of you calmed him down if he was nervous about something, so, you figured he could benefit from deep pressure touch and if not, you’d try something else. Anything to stop him from hurting like this.

Straddling his lap on the chair, you bring him into a hug, tightening your arms so it is snug and not uncomfortable and hold him, soothing his back and whispering positive affirmations beside him.

You sit with him like that for about 15 minutes before he finally moves, his arms circling your waist and his face buries into your neck. He doesn’t sob or break down, he just holds you with the same force you are giving him. He finds some serenity in your touch and he can’t thank you enough. 

You wish he would just let it all out, to cry because he needs it, but you can’t push him - he copes in his own ways.

“I’m sorry you had to hear all that earlier,” Your heart tears as he mutters the words into the nape of your neck. He is the one in pain right now yet he’s apologising for your feelings that got hurt. Pulling back you see his sullen face as he finally looks at you, “She had no right to accuse you or Minhee like that, she was out of line.”

A lump forms in your throat but you force it back down. You can’t tell him now, not while he’s like this but fuck do you feel like a piece of shit right now. Every fibre of your body wants to tell him and relieve yourself of the burden on your shoulders, but now is not the time for that.

You plaster on a gentle smile and place your hands on his cheeks, “And she had no right to tell you your dad would be disappointed in you because I know for a fact that he isn’t. That man worshipped the ground you walkrd on, he still does. You’re everything he would want you to be.”

The words hit Sunghoon a little too hard, the ducts of his eyes filling again but he quickly blinks them away and clears his throat, shaking his head as if to rid him of any thoughts in his brain.

“Thank you, Y/N. For everything and I don’t just mean right now,” he pauses, collecting the correct words, “I mean for the past few months. I feel so…I don’t know, I can’t even describe it. I just know I’m lucky to have you.”

You jutt your bottom lip out and nod. Of course, you understood what he meant because you felt it too. His mum was certainly wrong about Sunghoon not knowing what love is, he’s experiencing it in ways people can only read about in books. You cherish each other as best friends, as lovers, as soulmates.

Tucking your hair behind your ear, he smiles genuinely, “Never leave me, yeah? You’re all I’ve got.”

You look at him, your eyes silently convey the depth of your care and commitment to him, “Unfortunately, you’re stuck with me for a long, long time, all my snoring included,” both of you laugh, the tension and animosity that still lingered from the confrontation with his mother slowly but surely dissipating, “I am going to tell Jay and Jake about how you said that though. They’ll be highly offended.”

The joke settles in Sunghoon’s smile, “What can I do to keep you quiet?” 

You pretend to think, mockingly looking up at the ceiling as if to contemplate, “I think I’ll take the same toll as my eyebrow-shaping services. Two kisses and your secret is safe with me.”

If Sunghoon could imprint a single vision to his brain, it would be you right now with the loving smile you have adorning your face, “You drive a hard bargain, Sweets but I’ll pay up,” Leaning forward, he kisses you tenderly, holding your back for support. Your bodies melt together, any tension in your persons now evaporating as you lose yourselves in one another. 

His tongue makes its way into your mouth, licking you softly and with so much affection. You loved this side of Sunghoon, it proved to you that men could actually be soulful. He’s a ruby in a diamond world, you’re certain.

“You know, I never did give you my tip for your services earlier?” He wiggles the freshly shaped eyebrows.

“Seriously? After all that went down, you’re still horny?” You ask confused. 

Nodding he dips his hands down to your ass, “I have been cockblocked for a month-”

“5 days,” you interrupt.

“Whatever. Doesn’t matter how long, I just know I need to feel you,” There’s a playful glint in his eyes but underneath lies a strange vulnerability as if he just needs to be loved, to be wanted. You can understand that; you felt the same way when you were upset after the party, desperate for a genuine connection. 

Lifting you, he carries you to the bed and lays you down gently, yet, with enough urgency to relay his needs to you. He is so desperate for your touch and your love that he’s already kissing down your neck and hands roaming under the borrowed shirt that you’re wearing. 

But you stop him suddenly, using all your strength to push him away and push him to sit up against the headboard. 

He had to feel the pleasure this time and as much as he would tell you that getting you off was enough for him, you wanted to return the favour.

Sunghoon has a terrible habit of just diving into making you feel good that often your night antics are one-sided with him doing most of the work and you get all of the reward. Tonight, you can’t let it follow the same routine, no matter his protests. 

You start rubbing over his cock that is concealed by his sweatpants and boxers. The imprint of his size is already making your pants stick to your pussy.

You sit on Sunghoon’s legs, anchoring him to his bed as you play with the toggles of his sweatpants.

Licking his lips in anticipation, he watches you pull back the strings and let them go, allowing them to snap and send a shock to his already desperate cock. The way you’re just as eager as him makes his blood pump straight down, helping his member to stand to attention.

There is still an apprehension in you to continue; the last time you attempted to suck him off, it ended in his feet digging into the bed and his ankle swelling back up. This time, however, he was in tip-top shape, or at least he would rather be in pain than not have those beautiful lips of yours wrapped around him

Pulling the bands of his bottoms down slightly, you expose his semi-hard dick, drooling at the sight. It looks as pretty as ever, the tip blushed with a hint of pink already from arousal.

Sunghoon rubs your thighs, the pads of his fingers trickling along your skin, setting your body alight. Even the simplest of touches from him is enough to get the blood in your veins to stir. He sees the effect he has on you and smugly licks his bottom lip, “Are you sure you don’t want me to…” he trails off, his right fingers ghosting your heat, giving you just enough to tease but not to please.

“No,” you shake your head with conviction, determined not to fall into his trap, “I want to do this.”

You honestly do feel bad for the lack of give compared to take, but Sunghoon has an addiction to taste you, to feeling your essence on his lips and tongue. He gets lost down there so long you, making you cum however many times he pleases that sometimes you’re too fucked out to even think, never mind give him anything in return.

Your hand is cold compared to his warm shaft, so when you grasp it softly, it jumps in your hand as Sunghoon gasps, “Jesus fuck,” he whispers as he shuts his eyes, his hand gripping your inner thigh.

You slowly drip your spit onto his cock, gathering enough to coat it. You begin to move your hand up and down slowly, spreading your saliva over him, squeezing periodically where you knew he was most sensitive. 

Rubbing your thumb over his head, you apply special pressure to his slit with each passing which Sunghoon obviously loves, his face being the number one indicator; his jaw is tense, eyebrows scrunched together, and his nose is breathing out harshly. You're driving him crazy with lust.

“Baby, please don’t tell me you aren’t going to use that pretty mouth of yours,” he pleads to you while his hips thrust up further, trying to get as close to your mouth as physically possible from the position he’s in, “I want your mouth so much.”

“You want what?” you tease, bringing your lips down to the tip only to spit on it once more, denying him what he craves.

Sunghoon doesn’t take the teasing well, gritting his teeth from aggravation and pleasure. Although he’s desperately seeking the warmth of your tongue sliding up and down his cock, he can’t deny how good your palm feels stroking him like this.

Both of you are as bad as one another, teasing while still giving something. Usually, it’s Sunghoon and his soft kitten licks to your folds when all you want is his fingers inside you. 

It was nice to be in control like this.

Pumping him faster, you watch as he struggles to speak, chest rising and falling with your hand, “Just…fuck…don’t make me ask again,” he pushes out, tone laced in flames. It’s almost cute how he thinks you’ll give up so easily, this is your time to get him back for every time he tortured you.

Bringing your face back down to his head, you lick into his slit and circle his head slowly. As soon as he thinks he’s won, you sit back up straight, smirking as he grinds his jaw in frustration, “Like that?” you ask innocently, fluttering your lashes at him.

“Y/N, c’mon, this is supposed to make me feel better,” he pouts, trying to hide a smile. You falter for a moment, thinking about his words carefully.

You suppose that this was to make him feel better after what just happened with his mum, he needs to feel loved and appreciated, to feel that someone actually cares about him and backs him through everything.

But you know him, and that glint of playfulness in his eyes tells you everything you need to know, “You can’t use the pity card to get what you want, Hoon,” you laugh and continue to work his cock.

Losing his despaired expression, he clicks back into his cheeky self, huffing while he rolls his eyes, “It was worth a shot.” he mutters disappointedly. He really thought that would work.

“I can’t believe you’re trying to guilt trip me into giving you what you want,” you sigh, feigning annoyance. Your hand starts to slow down, “Should I even give you this much?” The confidence in your voice wavers once you look into his eyes.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Sweets,” he challenges you, those menacing fingers from before now pressed exactly where your clit is. You jerk at the sudden touch, loosening your grip on him just slightly. His expression is smug, a wide grin plastered all over his face.

He rubs on your bud causing a chain reaction of events; you fall forward a little, mouth slack open, and with one swift push of your head, he’s gotten exactly what he wants.

Gripping your hair tight with his free hand, he forces you to take him deep into your throat, holding you there as you gag on him, the vibration sending a shiver through his entire body.

Despite his force, he’s left you enough leeway to come off if you want to, but now that you’re down here, mouth stuffed with him, you don’t really feel the need to. Instead, you hollow your cheeks and give in.

His fingers finally slip into you, not even bothering to wait for you to discard your underwear. Curling his two fingers inside you provokes a high-pitched moan to rise from your chest and onto his entire length.

You clasp your hand around his wrist, holding his hand still, grinding on his hand of your own accord. It feels so good you pop off his cock, leaning your head on his shoulder as you get swept away in the goodness.

Your boyfriend tuts mockingly before whispering in your ear, “Baby, I’m starting to think you only want to make yourself feel good,” his voice is embedded with amusement, not a trace of annoyance to be heard. 

Sunghoon’s greatest pride is making you feel good, and as much as your mouth feels fucking unreal, he’ll take hearing your cute noises of need over getting sucked off any day.

You know he doesn’t mind but you want to give him more, something just for him. Regaining your thoughts, you quickly push him to lay flat on the bed, withdrawing his hand from your pussy.

Confused, he raises his eyebrows, “Baby, what are you-holy fuck!”

He stops his question mid-sentence as you take him back in your mouth, this time focusing on sucking his red tip, alternating between licking and slurping.

Grasping at the sheets below him, Sunghoon’s knuckles turn white and his legs tense under you while you give him head, probably with the most vigour you’ve ever shown. He doesn’t know how long he will last with each passing of your tongue over his slit, the accidental dips of the tip of your muscle making him jerk forward.

“Fuck, baby, do that again,” he asks pleadingly, desperate to feel that good again. And you oblige, flicking your tongue into his hole once again, and again, and then once more before you start to taste his precum on your tastebuds. 

As much as he is enjoying this, the idea of splattering his love over your face and tongue, he could think of somewhere else he’d rather have it. Ever since that first time without the condom, you quickly hopped on the pill and never looked back, both of you obsessed with how it felt to fall apart raw like that.

Yes, it was irresponsible, chances of still getting pregnant at a staggering rate but it felt too good and looked even better. Sunghoon still hasn’t got the image of the first time his cum leaked out of you, the sight is the closest thing to heaven as far as he is concerned.

You feel the pulse in his cock thump against your tongue, signalling that he’s close, ready to erupt; however, your hair is yanked to pull you off, the control from each strand to your brain acting as a puppet string as Sunghoon moves you to crawl forward and kiss him, his tongue dancing in your mouth. 

It’s not like him to deny himself release so you know he wants you on him quickly. If his free hand shoving your underwear down wasn’t indicator enough, his little moans certainly were. 

Freeing yourself of your bottoms and pulling his off at the same time, you hover over his angry cock, crying out for your cunt. But that doesn’t mean you can’t cause one more bit of torment. 

Sliding his cock along your wetness, you pretend that you're just gathering enough of your natural lubricate to easily slip him in, but in reality, you keep going; every time his head touches your entrance, you slide it straight back out. 

Clenching his jaw, he shakes his head once you’ve done it one too many times, “Fuck this,” he says lowly. Both of his hands grip your hips tight and once his dick is close enough, he forcefully pushes you onto him, engulfing his whole cock. The sudden action ruptures a loud, porn-like moan from you, the tip of him sitting right at your cervix.

“Isn’t that so much better than being difficult?” he asks cockily, kissing down your neck as you adjust to him, “Remember when you used to be so well-behaved with me?” His words flutter in your tummy, the raspyness of his voice spinning your head around. He must be reading those books you leave at his place, his sex talk is getting a little too good.

He rocks your hips to test the waters for any discomfort, and when he doesn’t see anything but pleasure on your face, he keeps going, “What happened to my good girl? Hmm?” he licks a long strip up your neck before nibbling your earlobe.

This damn praise kink will be the end of you because now all you can think about is him telling you how good you are for him, “I’m sorry, Hoonie. I just wanted to tease you,” you confess, face red from lust and embarrassment at how easy it is for him to get you surrendering.

It’s not a power play, he does it because he knows if you give in and just be your good little self, you enjoy yourself more. You physically shudder at every word of praise and touch of love, why wouldn’t he want you to just surrender to your desires? When you feel good, he feels good; it’s a win-win.

“My beautiful girl, teasing me after saying you wanted to look after me?” he tuts mockingly, smooching along your jawline, “You still want to make me feel good, don’t you?” 

The question makes your pussy walls hug him tight, eyes shut as you quickly nod, “Yes, yes I want to look after you, for the rest of my life,” you utter the words so tenderly that it catches Sunghoon a little off guard. 

When you’re both close like this, having sex, fucking, making love - whatever anyone wants to call it - you are always so vulnerable and honest with him. He wonders if you know you do it or if it subconsciously slips out.

Pickling your hips up, he guides you gently up and down him, the bell of his cock bumping each part of your canal perfectly, “Feel how my heart is beating? That’s because you always look after me, you don’t need to do anything other than be here with me, that’s enough,” he places your hand on his chest and you feel his heart accelerating.

Sunghoon speaks with genuine love, like he’s trying to tie both of you together for an eternity, and you have no reservations about that. You love him so much that even though you can’t see down the tunnel of your future with one another, you know you want to be with him until the end of the line.

Nodding, you smile brightly, “Still, I would like to actually finish giving you head at some point,” you joke, lightening the mood a little.

“I’ll think about it,” he mirrors your expression, nuzzling his nose with yours gently, “For now I think I’d really like to cum inside my girl.” 

You’re convinced you’ve just cum already, the bluntness of his needs only fueling your own. There’s nothing you want more than his cock - which is currently fucking you gently - to fill you up.

It gives you the motivation to move your hips in rhythm with him, pressing your palms on his chest while you pick up speed. Your g-spot is being satisfied each time you fully sink onto him, bringing you close to the edge.

“Fuck, you’re so good, such a good girl,” he echoes loudly. He wants to buck up faster but his ankle has an annoying twinge in it, telling him not to push it too far, so he puts all his strength into his other foot, using that as his anchor to fuck into you deeper.

“Sunghoon…right there,” you whine, your mouth collecting drool as he fucks you dumb. 

He heeds your words and keeps drilling into you, fighting through the discomfort so you can climax. Reaching his thumb up to your mouth, he wipes the saliva formulating at the side of your mouth but he quickly stops when you suck on it, eyes boring into his as you do. 

Your plump lips look delicious while your tongue swirls around, giving him something to think about for the rest of his life. Grabbing your chin, he pulls your mouth open which you do obediently. 

“You’re so close, Sweets, I can feel you,” he states, swiping his thumb along your bottom lip, smearing your spit all over your mouth and down your chin, he grips you a bit tighter to keep you staring at him, “You’re gonna cum, and you’re going to keep looking at me when you do, okay? Do you know why?”

Without hesitation, you agree, staring straight into him, “So I know who makes me cum so hard,” It’s a little embarrassing to admit it, but it turns you on so much. You wonder if you could convince him to go full dom on you at some point, you know he has it in him.

“Good girl, you can cum whenever you want,” the huskiness in his voice pulses into your heat, making you clench around him again. The motion only makes him smirk, “I need to feel that perfect pussy fall apart so bad.” The confidence in his voice wavers as his dick spurts a little. He’s trying to hold it in until you cum but it’s proving more difficult than he anticipated, your core just clamping down on him too deliciously.

“Cum with me,” you say, cradling his face, “I want to cum with you.”

The suggestion doesn’t come unfounded, you know he’s holding back until you climax, “Let me milk your cock.”

Okay, you might have to seriously cringe after this because who do you suddenly think you are? Dirty talk isn’t something that comes as naturally to you as Sunghoon so every time you initiate or say something like that, you have to stop yourself from shrivelling up.

What you fail to see is how Sunghoon’s whole body shuts down, the dirty words falling from those angelic lips put his head in a tizzy and cock on the very brink of shooting into you. The drive he has now is exhilarated, his hips snapping into you, weight on both his ankles but he couldn’t care less, he had to feel you coming undone.

You try to keep up with his pace but he’s going so fast you don’t even have time to comprehend how you could add to the situation. His length is pistoning into you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again, “Sunghoon! I’m cumming,”

“Cum for me. Milk my cock, Y/N,” he echoes your words but they don’t sound as good to him when it’s not your voice. 

Snaking his hand down to your clit, he rubs it, just helping to push you that last bit over the finish line, and it works like a dream. Your walls contort around him, your body tensing as your orgasm flushes over you. 

With your pussy tightening, Sunghoon spurts his seed into you, filling you up. The way your body is responding to your climax squeezes his cock clear of any cum, his balls deflating as he keeps shooting his sperm into you. 

He doesn’t stop for what feels like minutes, his dick jumping inside of you with each rope, only adding to your pleasure. Sunghoon’s thumb slows down but doesn’t stop giving your clit attention, making sure you get to ride out every remnant of your orgasm. 

Panting, you collapse on him, smooshing your face into his chest and kissing his heart softly, it’s your weak attempt to help him come down. 

Sunghoon wraps his arms around you, the rest of his body going limp as he cherishes the time with you on top of him like this, his cock still buried deep inside you, “You accomplished your goal,” he says into your hair, laying a kiss on your roots, “I feel so much better.”

You look up at him, leaning up slightly, “I never want you to listen to your mum again. She’s wrong about everything, you’re so perfect in every way, shape, and form,” your voice whisps over his face as you try to instil some assurance into him.

There was the little issue of saying this knowing full well she was kind of right about the skate being sabotaged. It gnaws at you, wishing you could tell him what you know, but you don’t want to hurt him, or your brother.

“I promise, I mean it when I say you’re the only one I need,” his fingers trace hearts into your back as you both bathe in the love that fills the room. 

The connection you have to Sunghoon feels surreal like it’s too good to be true. 

______

After the few days you’ve spent nonstop with Sunghoon, you decide you need to go back to your normal life, you can’t stay in your comfort cocoon forever. You’ve been back at classes, hanging out with Rina, and returning to work. However, you still haven’t been home, opting to spend the nights with Sunghoon. 

Minhee has texted and called you a few times, leaving messages asking if you can meet up but you ignore him. His messages punctuate your days like soft knocks on a door you are scared to unlock. 

Each time he contacted you, there was a little angel on your shoulder telling you to hear him out and let him explain what’s been going on. You have been telling yourself that the whole reason you refuse to tell Sunghoon about his skate is because you want to find out the truth; so why aren’t you trying?

Instead, you listened to the devil perched on your other shoulder, telling you to ignore him because it was still wrong even if there was an excuse to be had regarding the sabotage. 

Maybe it would have been easier to go back and forgive him if you hadn’t seen Sunghoon struggle to even stand in the shower.

Your boyfriend also got back to normality, he got his boots fixed in spite of you recommending new boots altogether, he’s determined to keep the old ones, claiming them lucky and ‘crucial to his National win’. 

He’s healing well, you wouldn’t even know he had an injury 9 days ago if you hadn’t been by his side. You knew his recovery was going well when he walked to his uni campus and back with no complaints. Well that and how he made up for the lost time and starting fucking you anywhere and everywhere just like before.

As you make your way to the rink to study, you see Sunghoon’s car in the parking lot which is strange because he said he had classes this afternoon. You shrug it off however, it’s probably just a health checkup he forgot to mention. 

Miss Barbara greets you, a beamer of a smile on her face but not like her usual happy to see you smile, more like an ‘I know something you don’t’ type of smile. You want to question her on it but you’re too curious as to what the rink has in store to wait around. 

The sound of multiple skates resounds off the arena walls, it’s just gone 3:30pm so it’s not an unusual occurrence, the junior skaters usually have afterschool training on a Tuesday anyway. It’s the bellow of Coach Lee’s voice that causes you confusion.

“Take it easy okay, don’t walk before you can run,” Strange. He doesn’t take the Junior class anymore, not since most of the parents complained that he was ‘far too harsh’ on their children. Of course, that’s not how Coach Lee saw it. 

As the rink comes into your sight you see the children standing to observe the skater on the ice as he lands a triple axel.

Sunghoon.

What on earth is he doing here, specifically, what is he doing skating like nothing happened?

You aren’t the only one who has a distaste in your mouth due to Sunghoon’s showing off. Coach is crossing his arms and tapping his foot in annoyance because his star skater has just defied his advice, “Sunghoon! Get off the ice. Now,” His tone indicates that he is in no mood for Sunghoon’s showboating.

Slowly, you make your way to the side while Sunghoon hops off the ice. Knowing your boyfriend, you can see his frustration with his coach, the slightly pouty lips and narrow eyes are a dead giveaway. 

He hasn’t noticed you yet, too busy begrudgingly taking his skates off. To be honest, you’re a little surprised that he doesn’t have some form of PTSD or at least apprehension about getting on the ice again; it would scare the shit out of you never mind doing tricks as if you didn’t almost have a career-ending fall.

“Listen to me, if you want to make Nationals next week you need to calm down with the aerials, alright? We need to build up to it,” Coach reasons with him.

“You saw me, I was perfectly fine,” He mumbles, tying his trainers in a strop. Sometimes he acted just like a kid but you found it endearing, probably because you’re never on the other side of the tantrum.

You now stand next to Coach Lee with a dissatisfied look on your face, “Hoonie, if you don’t listen to Coach Lee, you’ll end up injured again and I am not looking after you again,” Your voice is playful but coach points to you and nods, his eyes still on Sunghoon.

Whipping his head up at your voice, the bratty attitude melts from his body and is replaced with pure happiness. He stands up and brings you in for the tightest hug, his hand placed behind your head as he scratches your hair. 

Now that everyone in your immediate lives knew about you and Sunghoon, there wasn’t really any need to hide it. Both coaches were a little perplexed, wondering how your relationship started considering you both looked like you never spoke a word to one another. Little did they know you’ve spoken and fucked in every room of Belmore, including their office but you’ll omit that information if they ever ask. 

You don’t actually know if your mum knows but rather just assumed she would, either the coaches or Minhee have told her. If she’s anything like Mrs. Park, she will not take it well. 

As you’ve come to realise, your relationship with Sunghoon isn’t that controversial, it’s just two people falling in love while their families go at one another’s throats, like Romeo and Juliet but way, way less dramatic and hopefully no death. Although, if you had gotten a hold of Mrs. Park the day she came to visit Sunghoon, there might be one casualty in it all.

Coach Lee leaves you both, heading into his office. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, still unaware as to why he’s skating.

Leaning back to look at you, he smiles, “I got the all-clear from the doctor. He said I must be some bionic mutation because it’s basically fixed itself,” You’re sceptical, knowing his doctor would usually be a little more cautious than just telling Sunghoon he’s good to go.

Unwrapping your arms from his waist, you raise an eyebrow, “He just…said you can go back to skating? Perform your intense routine at Nationals like it was nothing?” He senses your apprehension and dubiousness and looks away, whistling. He isn’t slick and he knows it, “I guess I’ll go ask him.”

“No! Wait!,” He pulls you back as you go to walk away, a guilty smile plastered on his face, “Okay, maybe he told me to take it easy, skip Nationals and rest up for a few months.”

The look on your face is incredulous, how can Sunghoon and his coach possibly justify letting him back on the ice? 

Sunghoon fails to tell you that the doctor also said if he goes back too fast then he risks tearing a ligament and possibly putting him out of action for the foreseeable and with his age, he doesn’t have a lot of time left in competitive competitions.

That’s why he’s taking the risk. He’s 20 now, which is young in anyone else’s mind but for him, he’s too aware of the fact that in ten years maximum, he’ll either be doing exhibitions, coaching, or not skating at all. He had to take the chance, he had to make it to the Olympics and experience it.

“Sweets, I know what I’m doing, I know my body better than anyone,” He bargains with you, trying to help you see it from his point of view, “If I skate at Nationals, rest up for a bit before the winter Olympics, I’ll be all set. Trust me, baby.”

You do trust him, but you're also acutely aware of his stubborn nature. "Sunghoon, this plan might look good on paper, but it carries serious risks. You could really get hurt," you express, unintentionally letting a hint of begging slip into your voice. The mere thought of him sustaining another injury is unbearable.

Admittedly, there's a selfish reason you don’t want him to skate too soon. You don't want him to risk injury because, deep down, you fear that Minhee would have technically ended Sunghoon's career, invoking the butterfly effect.

“You also said that about us, that we’re good on paper but it couldn’t work. Look at us now,” Using your own words and relationship against you is a low blow, he knows that but it’s the only way you’ll understand. 

With a slow nod, you reluctantly drop the argument. "Just please be careful. I don't want you to cause yourself more damage, okay? If you see my side, at least consider it."

Sunghoon intertwines his fingers with yours, leaning down to kiss you. Instead of responding with words, he lets the kiss convey his gratitude for your concern for him. He knows you’re only looking out for him at the end of the day, just like always.

For a moment, you both get lost in each other, almost forgetting your surroundings. The usual nagging in your brain about the need to be discreet fades away, allowing you to revel in the affection. It’s the joy of telling the world about your relationship.

However, before the moment can linger, your name is angrily shouted from the entrance door, shattering the intimacy. "Y/N, what on earth do you think you're doing?" Your mum storms over to you and Sunghoon, his protective grip on you tightening in response. 

If she didn’t know about you and Sunghoon, she did now. Minhee tries to reach for your mum to calm her down but he isn’t quick enough.

“Mum, I-”

Before you can finish your sentence, she cuts you off, lifting her hand to silence you, “Don’t ‘mum’ me. I have been worried sick about you. You disappeared with…him for almost two weeks, not so much as a phone call to anyone.” She’s furious, if she was a cartoon you would see the steam coming from her scalp.

Sunghoon scoffs, bringing you to his side as a way to stand by you against her, “It’s a bit late to care about her now,” he mutters under his breath like he’s saying it to himself but it doesn’t go unnoticed from your mother.

“Excuse me?” She challenges Sunghoon, her posture hardening to match her stern gaze, “Do not involve yourself in our lives, I know what you’re up to,” her voice is accusatory. 

Yanking you away from your boyfriend, she roughly shoves you to Minhee’s side who catches you. This is the first time you’ve seen him since the morning after the argument and he looks horrible, his entire expression is sullen and his dark undereyes showcase the lack of sleep he’s had. Your heart hurts, wishing you had picked up the phone at least once.

That’s the thing, everything is easier when you shut people out. You haven’t given much thought about how Minhee would be feeling since the incident because you didn’t have to face him.

He gives you a sympathetic look, genuine remorse in his eyes. 

“Don’t speak and listen very carefully,” your mum looks at you, turning her back on Sunghoon to dismiss his presence entirely, “I didn’t want to believe the rumours about you two but it ends now. You will not see him again, that family is cruel and evil and I will not let you continue this relationship any further. Do I make myself clear?” You know she’s angry because she’s speaking clear and concise to get her point across. 

“Not Sunghoon, mum, he’s not a bad person,” 

Pleading with her falls short, her manner never wavering. You look to Sunghoon who shakes his head in disbelief at how brazen your mother was being by talking about him so poorly while he was right there.

She huffs, clearly irritated by your defiance. "Sunghoon is especially toxic."

"Mu-"

"He's using you to get to your brother."

The entire arena seems captivated by this unexpected drama, like it’s an episode of  Maury and the DNA results are about to be revealed. Minhee and Sunghoon exchange perplexed glances, but all you can muster is laughter.

The idea that Sunghoon has ulterior motives for dating you seems utterly ludicrous, "Mum, Sunghoon and I are together, and we're happy. Why can't you just leave us be?"

Ignoring your plea, she digs into her handbag, determined to prove her point. As she scrolls through her phone, you seize the opportunity to exchange a glance with Minhee, who can only offer a shrug, equally taken aback by the unfolding spectacle.

Finally finding what she's looking for, she hands you the phone, revealing screenshots of text messages between two individuals. "I did some digging once I found out about your little relationship. He's been texting his friends and making a mockery of you."

As you peer at the phone, Sunghoon's name is at the top of the screen, and the messages depict Sunghoon boasting about sleeping with you and how easy you are to get into bed, all it took was playing on your ‘mommy issues’.

The stress in your body builds, lying heavily on your shoulders. Despite the initial shock, the rational part of your mind takes over. Nowadays, anyone can make a fake text. The absurdity of the situation dawns on you, and you suspect that your mother is creating drama for her own sick pleasure.

"Mum, anyone can fake text messages. This doesn't prove anything," you assert, hoping to inject some reason into the escalating confrontation. 

Sunghoon still hasn’t seen the messages so he doesn’t know the severity of the allegations being made about him but he knows it can’t be good. Although you’re ninety percent convinced that it’s fabricated, he can see the ten percent of you arguing that they’re real.

With a dismissive wave, your mum takes back the mobile, “Thought you might say that. Texts can be faked, but voices? They don’t lie.” 

You suddenly have a sick feeling that’s rising from your stomach to your throat. What else could she possibly have? It won’t be substantial, it can’t be.

Out of your eyeshot, Minhee and Sunghoon are exchanging a look of curiosity, both wondering what Sunghoon could possibly have said about you that would elude to your relationship being made from lies.

Opening a file on her phone, your mum plays an audio clip, the sound of Sunghoon’s voice fills the tense air.

"All I gotta do is keep her hooked until Nationals. Once Minhee catches wind of me messing around with his little sister, he'll be too wrapped up in that drama to think about anything else. Can't have him messing with the Olympic team, you know?...

…No, she doesn’t have a clue. I practically have her doing anything I say. Seriously, sex whenever I want! I missed my opportunity to be an actor because how i’ve been pretending to be in love with her makes me worthy of an Oscar….

I just used lines from those movies that girls watch, read a few Twitter threads, I did my research man c’mon.”

In the wake of the phone call clip, a heavy burdening silence hangs around the rink, suffocating you. Your mum adorns a victorious smile, proud of her revelation. 

She’s the only one who was happy in this situation.

Minhee balls his fists, face going red and stature in fight mode, ready to knock everyone out of the way so he can lay his hands on Sunghoon. He isn’t even upset that he was planning all of this to sabotage him but rather that he hurt the one person most precious to him. You.

You find yourself at a crossroads, torn between the person you’ve come to love and the evidence presented to you. Sunghoon wouldn’t do this to you but the proof is right there, clear as day. The weight on your shoulders is unbearable as you contemplate the idea that maybe the Sunghoon you thought you knew, the one you love, actually isn’t who he says he is.

Sunghoon’s mouth hangs open and his eyebrows merge together as he processes what he just heard, “Y/N, I swear I didn’t say that, I have never…I wouldn’t…” He can’t even finish the words, still perplexed by the audio.

“Oh? But isn’t that your voice?” your mum says. It’s sick how much she seems to be enjoying this, almost like this will be the most gratifying ‘I told you so’ in history. 

“Well…yeah but I did NOT say that,” he walks towards you, hands on his chest, “Baby, please believe me. I love you, I wouldn’t use you,” Sunghoon’s voice wavers with anger and sadness, conflicting feelings fighting one another as his mind bats them around.

The weight of humiliation and deceit bears down on you, threatening to shatter your composure. A storm of emotions swirls within, but you stubbornly refuse to let it consume you, denying anyone the satisfaction of witnessing your breakdown.

With determination, you storm out, deaf to the desperate pleas from Minhee and Sunghoon. Your singular focus is on escaping the prying eyes, sparing yourself from the judgment and pity.

How could Sunghoon betray you like this? You gave each part of yourself to him, only for him to throw it back in your face.

But it was so real, the connection you have with him, even from the start, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before so how could it all be a lie? The way he made you feel was otherworldly, it’s hard to believe for a second he would have manipulated you like that. 

Was every whispered promise and affectionate moment just a ploy to damage your brother's chances?

As you push open the double doors, your mind is filled with conflicting thoughts that drown out the background noises of the outside world. The confusion envelopes you like a thick cloud and the cold air hits you like a slap in the face, a dramatic contrast to the hot chaos left behind in the rink. 

Stumbling slightly, you make your way through the car park, the weight of betrayal and inner struggle increasing with each step.

Tears threaten to spill, but you clench your hands, determined to maintain composure. The weight of embarrassment, uncertainty, and sadness pushes over your chest, making it difficult to breathe.

“Y/N! Wait!” Sunghoon’s cry finally infiltrates its way through your ears, “Sweets, please talk to me,” his voice gets louder as he catches up, attempting to grab your wrist but you harshly pull it from his grasp.

You’ve had too many arguments in this car park for your liking, whoever runs the CCTV must sit with some popcorn every time you trudge out of Belmore.

“Was this your plan, huh? To use me like this?” This was your chance to find out why he did it, why he tricked you so easily, “Was all of it a lie? When you told me you loved me, was it all fake?” you batter question after question out to him, word vomiting your inner thoughts in hopes of some clarity to the situation.

Standing in front of you, Sunghoon’s expression reads more anger than hurt, “Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. Don’t fucking diminish my feelings like that,” he argues back. It instilled a fury within him that you could even elude to his love being a lie.

“Oh? So what, getting under my brother’s skin was the plan but then you started to fall in love with me as time went on like one of those bullshit Rom Coms. Is that really the angle you’re pulling here?” You can hear your voice getting louder and you have no desire to lower it. 

Sunghoon is a mirror of you, anger rising but it’s not aimed at you, it’s the situation he’s furious with, “Y/N I swear on my life I didn’t say any of those words back there. I…I don’t know what’s going on,” his shoulders raise as he fights internally with himself. 

“That was your voice, Sunghoon. YOU. I hope you get your fucking Oscar, I’m sorry it was so hard to pretend to be in love with me, isn’t that what you said?” It’s not like you to scream at someone, however, the love you have for him is like a clutch in your heart, a burden you once thought was a privilege. 

Tightening his jaw, he has a tough act on in front of you but his wavering voice gives him away, “I love you, Y/N. I love you so fucking much you can’t actually think for a second any of this was fake to me.” Sunghoon groans and slaps his cheeks lightly, a habit he has when he’s frustrated, “I don’t know how to prove to you I am not fucking lying. Y/N, you’re my whole world and you know it. Why are you believing your mum when she couldn’t give two shits about you,” he barely pushes out the last sentence from pure agitation. 

Weeks and weeks have gone by and he has listened to you tell him stories about your mother and how she’s a horrible person. Now you’re standing in front of him suddenly believing her over the one person that has shown you all the love you’ve been missing. It’s enraging him to another level he didn’t even know he was capable of.

“Why shouldn’t I believe her? She literally has stone-cold proof of you admitting that you used me,” you argue.

He takes two long steps to stand in front of you, invading your bubble. His big hands hold your cheeks as he forces you to look into his eyes, “I didn’t say it. I didn’t send any texts. I haven’t got any friends except Jay and Jake and they would be on my ass if I pulled something like this. I love you so fucking much. Are you really going to believe a shitty audio clip instead of seeing what’s right in front of you?”

Either he’s telling the truth or he’s really committing to the role. The sincerity in his eyes clashes with the damning evidence, leaving you torn between love and reason. 

Pushing him back, you shake your head. You can’t rationalise anything, the red you’re seeing clouding over your judgement. His love that poured through the words was evident but even on the call he said he faked being in love with you, maybe he was just a natural talent in the art of deception.

“You’re just like my brother, y’know, literal carbon copies of each other. You’ll do anything to win, to top one another in this stupid rivalry. First, it was him with your skate and now this, using me like I’m some pawn in your game.”

A weird silence fills the air as Sunghoon takes in your rambling, “What about my skate?” 

Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

As if the icy air just took over your body, your blood runs cold at your accidental admission. This isn’t how you wanted to tell him, truthfully, you didn’t want to tell him at all but if you did, you wanted it to be a bit gentler than this and well after you figured out what Minhee was thinking.

“Did Minhee fuck up my skate that day?” Sunghoon can’t believe it, his face going a paler shade as he takes in the gravity of your words, “My mum was right? You both had something to do with it?”

He is seething, his body shaking as he comes to terms with your words. Sunghoon has never felt more fury coursing through his blood as he does right now, never in his life did he ever think you could make him this angry.

“Of course, I didn’t, Sunghoon. Believe it or not, I was actually in this relationship for real, not pretending,” you spit back at his accusation.

“You knew he did this to my ankle, you listened to me argue with my mum and defend both of you to the point she won’t speak to me anymore and it was true?” The hurt in his voice drains some of the anger from you, making room for guilt to sit shallowly at the surface. 

There wasn’t anything you could say right now that would make you look better in this scenario. You fucked up, you knew when you found out about the skate, you knew it while you cradled Sunghoon in your arms as he broke down, and you know it now.

What you did was fucked up. Lying to him was bang out of order.

However, since the guilt is only taking about a 1/8th of your body, the anger suffocates it, choking it down, “You’re turning it on me but I can’t control Minhee’s actions.”

“You kept it a secret, that’s just as bad,” he shouts, veins popping from his neck.

It hurts, the way he says it. He sounds so betrayed.

But he betrayed you, he’s been lying this whole relationship and now he’s getting angry at you for keeping one fact to yourself. You know it’s wrong to try and compare the two, to find a way and dilute the severity of your lie but you’re livid at him right now. Once you’ve calmed down you might be able to see clearly, that won’t be today though.

“Okay, fine. I should have told you but you’ve also been lying to me, and for a lot longer,” you retort back, staring into his eyes.

Stunned by your confession, his mind temporarily short circuits. You lied to him, after everything you saw him go through with his ankle, you neglected to mention that it was Minhee. He practically disowned his mother in honour of not just you but your brother…for it all to be true. And to top it all off, you still don’t believe him as he tells you that he loves you, that somehow that audio is fake.

Before Sunghoon can gather any words to say back, Coach Lee has a firm grip on his arm, the man’s eyes flicking between you both. It’s clear that even without hearing the conversation, your relationship was essentially over and Coach Lee didn’t want to meddle.

“Y/N, go home. Sunghoon, come with me.” His parental voice is switched on as if he’s telling his kids to stop playing with their food or drawing on the walls. 

You and Sunghoon stay stagnant as you watch each of your worlds crumble beneath you. All that you knew and loved got swept away on a random Tuesday afternoon.

And you just let it happen.

taglist (closed!!): @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @bambangan @who-tf-soddhi @nxzz-skz @nshmrarki @hotsforikeu @enhastolemyheart @erehkinnie30 @judeduartewannabe @neosexual @fakeuwus @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @tobiosbbyghorl @kimsunoops

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen angst #enha angst #melting point #aj writes #sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader

[theonewiththefanfics]

The Layers of Thomas Shelby - Frozen Fear (one-shot)

Synopsis: Fear was an emotion Tommy elicited in others. He never thought he'd feel it himself. Not like that. Never like that... 

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, slight fluff

Warnings: graphic descriptions of blood, injuries, kidnapping, swearing, death not sticking to canon whatsoever :)

Word count: 3028

Fear was something Thomas Shelby was intimately acquainted with. He elicited it and made others tremble to their very core with just a glance or a whisper of his name from someone else’s lips. Fear was as much a shadow in his life, as his daughter who followed him around wherever she could.

But fear was also what he felt in that exact moment as he stared at the bloodied napkin on his table, the silver locket he’d gifted Y/N when their child had turned one inside it, a simple note of “For Angel” attached to it.

Sadie was tight asleep on his chest when he’d received the damned box. Y/N had taken her to Ada’s so she could have the day to herself, get her body pampered, do up her hair and maybe spend a bit of money on some new shoes or a winter coat as a birthday present from him. If she’d asked, Tommy would’ve bought her the Eifel tower, and she’d bloody well deserve it. Valentine's was coming up, after all.

He was so proud of her. Despite the certain things that’d happened, he wouldn’t want anyone else to share a life with. She’d picked up the broken pieces Grace had left his heart in and mended it with gold. But gold didn’t matter at that moment when he didn’t know where she was. Where her body was.

When Frances had brought in the box that’d been left by the doorstep, Sadie had been softly snoring on his shoulder for the better part of an hour while he ran tired blue eyes over the logs of the previous week.

He thanked her, his voice a whisper to not stir his toddler, before cautiously examining the square. When he opened it, Tommy swore his heart stopped beating. Or he wished it did. Because it wasn’t like that time when Grace’s boyfriend had taken Y/N, or like that time she’d gotten mugged behind a shop. No. This time, he knew she was dead, and he wished he was too.

It took all of his self-control to ring up his brothers and tell them to get to Arrow House right that second. It took all of his restraint not to shout or scream, the only thing tethering him to earth and sanity his pride and joy asleep in his arms.

When Arthur and John got to his home office, Tommy simply threw them the note, his eyes trained on the small oval locket, thumb tracing the inscription upon it, smearing blood more and more over his own hands.

“Find her.” Those were the only words he uttered.

For a brief second, he’d glanced up and saw terror rush through the eyes of his brothers; he knew how much the two loved his wife, they loved her like they loved Ada and Polly, so without a second to spare, they ran back out, no doubt to gather every Blinder and search every nook and cranny while he clutched the brown-haired girl to his chest, the silver locket clutched in his other palm.

He wasn’t a religious man, didn’t even necessarily believe what his gipsy ancestors did or even his aunt Pol, but at that moment he turned his head to the ceiling and prayed to whoever might listen, old gods and new, Norse and Greek and Slavic – anyone that would hear his pleas.

Tommy thought back to every time Y/N had smiled at him, had laughed and filled his world with light. He even thought back to all those insane moments where he felt like his jaw would snap with how hard he’d been clenching it because of some stupid thing she’d done. He wished he’d appreciated those moments more because when two hours later Arthur came back to the house, the coat his wife had been wearing that morning in his hands, soaked and dripping freezing water onto the Turkish carpet, Tommy knew she was gone.

***

Her whole world consisted of cold, nothing else. It was the only thing she could feel, taste and sense. Was there anything to sense? Y/N didn’t know. She didn’t even fully believe her legs were still attached to her body, but somehow she was making her way across the field.

Time had become a concept she couldn’t comprehend, and the only thing that showed it had passed was the ever-changing position of the moon - her only companion through the long journey.

She had stopped shaking a while back, which it didn’t take her being a genius to know meant trouble if she didn’t find a way to get warm, but even that didn’t matter. Nothing but getting home did. If she had to die, she wanted to do it there, not somewhere in a ditch let alone beneath the frozen surface of the lake where Luka Changretta had dumped her.

He thought she’d been dead. He’d slit her throat, but not before ripping off the beautiful little necklace Tommy had gifted her.

“So he has something to remember you by,” the Italian mobster had given her a mocking smile before taking a knife from his side and slicing it across her neck.

The pain had been blinding, knocking all sense of reality out of her mind. She knew it would be the end. When her body lifted above the chair she’d been tied to, when her back greeted plush leather seats, her blood staining them forever. She knew she would die sooner or later. Then sweet blackness greeted her.

But death was a lot more painful than what it’d been described to be like in all the books she'd read and edited, especially the wound in her throat. Her breaths were white-hot knives dragging down her oesophagus and her lungs were on fire with each shallow take of air.

Through a haze, Y/N heard Italian being spoken before two rough hands grabbed her by the ankles and dragged her out of the car.

Her body hit the frozen ground with a thud, and it took every bit of remaining brainpower not to whimper from the pain. The winter air stung every piece of her body inside and out, caressing her with icy nails.

Slowly her mind was coming to, the cold sobering her up, but when someone took her wrists and another took her by the ankles, setting her flying, it was the frozen surface of the lake she cracked through that awoke her completely.

Y/E/C eyes flew open, murky depths of the water greeting her while every nerve and cell in her got shocked. Instinct told her to swim up, get a breath, and get out of the water before it pulled her under, but with the mightiness of a Norse goddess, Y/N suppressed all that and allowed the lake to gently pull her down, and her mind finally started to understand what’d happened.

They thought she was dead and decided to throw her body in some lake, probably hoping it would freeze over before she floated to the top and would remain that way until the very spring, prolonging the pain for her family.

The thought of her family grieving her was the only thing keeping Y/N from not trashing below the still surface. Instead, she slowly slipped her arms out from the coat and let it move to the top, while she sunk lower and lower.

Soon enough her feet touched the slimy earth below, which is when she once more opened her eyes and glanced up. There wasn’t really anything to see, apart from the light of the moon streaming in through the broken place where her body had been thrown and two retreating headlights.

Y/N waited two more seconds her whole being in shock and begging to get out and away from the cold when she pushed upwards and broke the surface. She gulped the air down in greedy takes, not caring about her split neck or the trembling of her body - at that moment all she cared for was air.

Her teeth were chattering so hard she pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, afraid it might get caught between them and she’d bite it off. Swishing her head around, she looked if the ice had broken anywhere else. Out. She needed to get out. And to whatever god had taken pity on her after everything, underneath a small makeshift pier where kids would come and fish, the ice had cracked right to the very edge.

She knew every second spent in the water was a second closer to hypothermia, so as quick as her frozen limbs would allow, she swam to the land. It was a hand’s stretch away when another pair of headlights came into view. Y/N cursed and instead of getting out of the lake, she ducked underneath the wooden planks, pressing a palm to her mouth, so whoever it was wouldn’t notice the air steaming up in the air from her mouth.

Her ears were ringing, so Y/N couldn’t hear whatever the men were talking about, only see how they fished out her coat and took it with them. They left another minute later, and she swore at whoever it was for costing it to her. Home. She needed to get home and fast, but she couldn’t be seen, couldn’t let Changretta know he’d half-assed her murder and she’d survived. He wouldn’t do so again, so Y/N waited another bone-chilling minute, checking if any car passed by again.

And then she got out, her dress clinging to her body, hair against her face, matted with seaweeds and blood, one heel of her boot snapped off – a wraith come to life and ready to haunt.

The first step was agonising, and Y/N collapsed underneath her weight, needles piercing her feet. Her knees bruised and scraped raw against the stony earth as did her hands, but she welcomed the pain, let it ground her, and used it to remind herself – pain meant she was alive. No pain would be the real problem.

Y/N wrapped her hands around her body, digging her nails into her biceps, each step an arduous labour. Small pebbles cut the soles of her feet; she’d lost her shoes somewhere along the way; her bones ached from the very inside and each breath was a task, the wound in her neck, although scabbed over, split with every small movement, small streams of blood trickling down and staining her white dress.

Lights were visible in the distance, even as her vision blurred more and more, the small bright dots becoming stretched-out beams before everything tilted and she was staring up at the sky.

The stars were magnificent, she thought. You couldn’t really see them shine like that in the city. Even with Arrow House being further away from the centre, the beauty of it didn’t compare to that of the open field.

Her mind went back to Tommy, to how they met, how they used to bicker about every single thing and to that first morning she’d woken up beside him and instead of finding his pillow cold, a strong arm had been wrapped around the middle, his nose hidden in her hair.

Neither mentioned it a few hours later at breakfast, but it’d been the day things slowly had started to shift. Then she’d gotten shot, and the switch had completely been flipped. All those glances they’d shared, the soft smiles and tiny touches were no longer hidden, but out on full display. His hand now always gravitated to touch any part of her, they fell asleep facing one another, most times Y/N using Tommy’s chest as a pillow. And then someone else came along and used his chest as a pillow, his heartbeat as a lullaby and his eyes as the ocean to pull them in and never let go.

She’d been scared to become a mom, but even with that, she’d never seen Tommy so absolutely terrified. When Y/N had gone into labour, she thought he would pass out, but he swallowed the fear and stayed with her. Despite Ada being adamantly against a man being present during “women’s business”, she’d threatened to break her neck if she so much as looked at Tommy, Polly snorting beside her.

“He put me in this position, and by God, he will be here,” Y/N had sneered at her sister-in-law before a contraption rippled through her body and she almost crushed her husband’s hand.

But then the pain went away and a small wriggling person was placed on her chest. She’d never seen Tommy fully break down before that.

“Huh,” Ada had shrugged. “So he does have a heart.”

She’d promptly received a smack from Polly and Y/N for that comment, but Tommy had chuckled.

“No, I don’t.” He’d leaned in and pressed a kiss to his wife’s temple. “These two stole it a long time ago.”

After that day, it wasn’t uncommon to find Tommy either in his office or even in their bed with Sadie sound asleep on his chest. She just about melted each time.

But now all that stared back at her was the cloudless winter sky. Y/N wanted to sob at the thought she’d never see Tommy’s blue eyes anymore or fix the way Sadie’s curls framed her face, but every little movement was agonising, so she just laid there, staring at the cosmos and waiting for that black void to get her.

***

When Y/N came to she was confused as to why there was so much yelling when being dead, why her head was pounding and her body was racked by violent shivers.

“You undressed my fucking wife!” A deep voice boomed from somewhere very far away it seemed while at the same time, the noise echoed in her skull, rattling her brain.

“Oh, would you have liked me to have left her in that frozen fucking dress?” A deep, gruff one replied. “She was already hypothermic, but by all means, you’d rather no one saw her in her knickers than be alive.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Solomons!”

That name being said snapped her eyes open, which was a big fucking mistake, as even the warm light from a candle by the bed and from the fireplace was enough to make Y/N feel like she was looking directly at the sun and burning her retinas.

Another horrible shiver went through her frame, her teeth chattering nonstop. Pins and needles were running all over her skin and Y/N curled up in a ball as if trying to not let any of the heat she’d managed to get back escape, but that only made her feel more pain, a groan escaping her mouth. That small noise was enough though for the door to be busted open and for two men – one lean and tall, the other a burly, beard-covered menace to rush inside.

Tommy was by her in an instant, a careful palm placed on her cheek.

“Don’t try to talk,” his own voice was that of a whisper. “The wound’s pretty rough.”

If it didn’t feel like it’d hurt like hell, Y/N would’ve just rolled her eyes, but all she could do was squeeze them shut as shivers went through her body. When Tommy saw that, he was instantly on his feet, going for the fireplace and adding more logs to the dwindling flames.

When he turned around, Y/N had slid her shaking hand from underneath the duvet and extended it to him, a silent plea for him to come back.

It didn’t take much more than that for Tommy to take off his jacket and suit, not caring about the company in the room, his trousers following until he was in his breeches, sliding into the bed, wrapping her frozen body with his own warmth.

A groan escaped her mouth, as she clung to him, Tommy releasing a string of expletives when sensing just how cold Y/N actually was.

“Bloody hell, woman,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to her forehead and tucking her face into the crook of his neck.

Gently, he intertwined her legs with his, and his fingers went to card through her matted strands, the motion more so calming him down, than her.

He’d put their daughter in bed after calling for Polly to come, with the thought Y/N was dead, his whole being a numb void. He’d thought the only time he’d ever get to see her again was after her body was found, that was if it’d be in a recognisable condition, so he’d take her frozen feet against his calves, her cold lips against his chest and stiff fingers digging painfully in his sides, as long as it meant she was alive.

At some point, after Alfie and Tommy exchanged words, Solomons left, and they spent the whole night and early morning like that, tangled in one another until Y/N was no longer cold or more appropriately would snap her tongue off if she so much as opened her mouth. She still couldn’t speak despite how Alfie had cleaned and stitched the wound in her neck, but she could write.

Alfie had brought a pen and paper upon Tommy’s request so they could communicate and the first and only word she scribbled was “home”.

“We’ll go home soon,” Tommy promised. “Arthur’s just… taking care of a few things.”

To that Y/N just nodded; she didn’t need any more explanations.

She took the pencil again and flipped to a new page. “Alfie has shitty sheets.”

Tommy chuckled, tightening the grip he had around Y/N’s waist. “He does, doesn’t he? You’d think the fucker could afford silk by now. Did he even change them before he put you in the bed?”

She just smiled and nuzzled closer to Tommy pressing her no longer cold nose to his chest and breathing in his scent, as he cradled her nape.

Y/N could hear the rapid thuds of his heart. When he'd first joined her in the bed, it'd been racing like one of his horses, stuttering and trying to find a beat, but now it was a steady song, matching her own.

No longer were they afraid.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take): 

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64​ @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561​ @staryeyedgirl​ @deathbyarabbit​ @m-a-t-91​ @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ @averyrogers83​ @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass​ @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog​ @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​ @strangersstranger​

Thomas Shelby tags: @datewithgianni​ @captivatedbycillianmurphy​ @screemqueen​ @mrsmalfoyshelby​ @theamuz​ @lyarr24​

A/N: sooo, it's been a while, hasn't it? Just wanted to drop something for the upcoming Valentines :)

P.S. hope you liked this :)

P.S.S. please don’t plagiarise my work and repost it/ translate it on other platforms (wattpad etc). re-blogs are very welcome

#Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby angst #cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy angst #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby angst #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby x y/n

[navybrat817]

“If you want something, you have to use your words.” With Bucky Barnes 😍😍

Such a fun prompt, lovely! How about CEO!Bucky?

Use Your Words

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky will give you what you need as long as you use your words. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral (m. receiving), possessive behavior, established relationship, pet name (princess), slight D/s vibes, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I don't know why this screamed CEO to me, but here we are. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You huffed a sigh as Bucky finally hung up the phone. He glanced at you with a small smile, the corner of his lips curling more when you narrowed your eyes. The love of your life was a busy man and you respected that. But if he took one more call, you’d throw his phone out the window. You didn’t care. He had more than enough money to buy a new one.

And you had been waiting for him on your knees, naked, for at least ten minutes.

“About time,” you muttered.

Your throat went dry as Bucky walked toward you. He stopped two feet away and from the angle reminded you just how much he was built like a brick house. The white dress shirt pulled taut over his wide chest, accentuated by his broad shoulders, and pants that hugged his massive thighs built for riding, the sight made you want to climb him and take his cock until he destroyed you. He ran a hand along his chiseled jaw and, from the mischievous look in his steel eyes, he drew attention to it on purpose.

You'd bite his chin later once you had the chance.

“Aww, princess,” he said in an almost mocking tone, his eyes sparkling again with laughter when you continued to glare. He loved riling you up. “If you want something, you have to use your words,” he told you, taking one step closer.

Like everyone else in Bucky’s life, he towered over you from his position. It would've terrified anyone else, but not you. No one else got to call themself Bucky’s princess and you would fight anyone who tried.

He was yours as much as you were his.

“I want you to put your cock in my mouth,” you said sweetly as you crawled closer to his feet, swaying your hips and watching his gaze fall to your breasts once you sat back on your knees again. “I want you to fuck my throat before you fuck my wet pussy.”

“Such a slut for me,” he said with a hint of affection he didn't dare show anyone else. He brushed a finger along your lips and your mouth fell open obediently. With a happy hum you sucked the digit into your mouth, happy that he put something there. “What makes you think you've earned my cock?”

The pout on your face didn't sway him as he took his finger out, but you caught the swift intake of breath when you ran his hands up his thighs. No one got to him the way you did. It was a heady feeling to know he gave you that kind of power. It was a gift you wouldn’t abuse.

But using it occasionally to your advantage wouldn't harm anyone.

“Because I've been good. You worked all day and I didn't bother you or tease you once. I didn’t even whine or complain when you took that call. I think that deserves a reward,” you answered, unbuckling his belt. You didn't move any further since he was still in charge. Or so he thought. “And don't you deserve a reward, too? Don't you deserve to use my holes?”

Reaching between your thighs, you watched his eyes darken when you gathered some of your wetness to show him. “That's my pussy you're touching,” he said.

“Mmm. So it is,” you smirked at the rustling of fabric and sound of him lowering his zipper. The sight of his hard cock springing free seconds later made your clit throb. You needed some relief, but he would reward you later for being good. “And your pussy is wet and ready whenever you're ready, Sir,” you promised, smearing your slickness along his cock from base to tip.

He taught you to appreciate the taste of yourself, but it was better when mixed with his.

And he rewarded you with a groan when you gave him a kittenish lick. “Show me first with your mouth how much you want me to fuck you,” he ordered.

You leaned forward to take him in just how he liked it. You started with the head, swirling your tongue gently around it with a moan. The drop of precum on your tongue had you greedy for more and it didn't take long for you to take in more of his cock, relaxing your throat so he could slide in. Being full of him was one of the best feelings in the world.

“Fuck, princess, that's it,” he rumbled as you slowly bobbed your head. Your head spun a little when he pushed himself further down your throat and groaned. You could take every inch.

The smile he gave you when you hollowed out your cheeks looked a little like love. The whine you let out when he hit the back of your throat said that you loved him, too. You loved him when he used you or when he treated you with such care. You loved that you belonged to each other.

He called you his princess, but you were truly his queen.

“And such a good girl for telling me what you need,” he grunted as he sped up his thrusts, your eyes burning with tears at his harsh movements. It wouldn’t be long until he came down your throat and your pussy clenched at the thought. You’d accept it all. “Keep sucking, princess. That’s it. Doing so well for me.”

He twitched on your tongue when you whined and moved faster, determined to make him feel good. When your hand moved up to cup his balls, it was all it took to tip him over the edge. With a growl, he spilled into your mouth. He gasped when you suddenly pulled off his cock and opened your mouth wider, showing him the load on your tongue.

You swore his cock twitched again when you shut your mouth to swallow it all down.

“Trying to kill me, princess,” he exhaled, tenderly holding your chin so you could look up at him. You smiled sweetly when his blue eyes locked with yours, proud of yourself when he continued to pant. Yeah, you got to him. No one else would ever compare. “Still need me to fuck my pussy?”

“Yes, Sir,” you rasped, your throat a bit sore in the best way. “Please, fuck me.”

He surprised you by joining you on your knees, keeping a hold of your chin to kiss you. He licked into your mouth, making you mewl from both the urgency and tenderness. “I’ll fuck you,” he breathed against your lips. “I'll always give you what you need.”

You knew he would. Bucky would always take care of you. All you had to do was use your words.

What do we think of CEO!Bucky? Yes? No? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #ceo!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #ceo!bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky fic #ceo au #james buchanan barnes #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

[zephyrchama]

Listening to Magic Moment on a non-stop loop has forced me to write this.

Writing Prompt: MC giving "free massage" tickets to the brothers.

Under the cut. Gender neutral MC, second person, one section for each of the 7 brothers.

Warnings: Nothing hardcore but there is suggestive content (every person has different boundaries so I don't know whether to classify it as some or a lot?). One section almost has a violent outburst (guess who lol it's satan's part), that might be unsettling to some.

The Seven Rulers of the Devildom had expensive taste. Must be a side effect from being some of the most powerful and influential millennia-old entities around.

The student council gave you a regular allowance and there was some side change from various part time jobs, but no way could you afford a custom designer brand gift for each of your housemates. When probed for details about what they’d like, they always say they’d gladly accept anything from you. That’s surely true, but you wanted to gift something they’d actually use and appreciate.

So after weeks of thinking, you got a bag of nice craft paper and some cute stickers that reminded you of the brothers. You holed up for an evening with a Do Not Disturb sign on the bedroom door. Late at night a couple days before Christmas, you snuck into the festively decorated living room and dropped your gifts into the brother’s stockings. Those were also your idea, and technically a gift with some little snacks inside, but now they also contained an extra surprise.

On Christmas morning everyone would wake up and discover your “Free Massage” tickets. One use per ticket. Valid forever.

Lucifer ---

You assumed Lucifer would use his ticket quickly, given how exhausted he often was. Despite being as busy as ever, he showed no intention of using it. Perhaps he thought the gift was beneath him and forgot about it entirely. Perhaps he needed hints to remind him.

For days you would check in on him more and more frequently. Send him a text, inform him that you were around if anything was needed. “Don’t forget to take breaks, ok? I’m here if you need me!”

One evening you boldly slipped into his room on the pretenses of returning a book. The timing couldn’t be more perfect. A sleepy Lucifer was towel-drying his hair after a shower. He sat on the corner of the bed, clean pajama shirt folded neatly beside him.

You took a seat on his other side. The book was large enough to occupy a third space. “Thanks for lending this to me. It was a surprisingly helpful reference.”

“I told you it was, didn’t I?”

He sounded amicable to conversation. Time to go on the offensive. “Do you need any help with that? I have a nice hair dryer from Asmo.”

“No,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I have the same one. I just prefer simple routines like this before bed.”

One rejection wasn't enough to deter you. “How was your day? Did anyone cause you trouble?”

You would have known if one of his brothers had acted up, but maybe something else was on his mind you could take advantage of.

“It was particularly uneventful. Quiet, for once. I’m glad to have this evening off, I have to be up early tomorrow.”

Shot down again. Now Lucifer was reaching for his shirt. Before he put it on, you grabbed his shoulder and weaseled your arm under his armpit and around his back. Not the smoothest move, but he stopped to humor you.

“Is anything on your mind?” he asked.

“It’s just that you’ve been so busy lately, I’m worried about your health. You’ve got to take it easy from time to time.” You rubbed your palm over his back. “I’m sure you get sore when you’re overworked.”

“Indeed. However, it’s something I’m used to.”

He re-folded the shirt and got up to put it away. “Would you like to stay the night? You must miss me, seeing as I’m so busy.”

“Absolutely!”

In the spare moments it took for Lucifer to hang up his shirt, place the returned book on its shelf, and walk back to the bed, you already made yourself at home in the sheets. He chuckled, “someone’s eager.”

The lights turned off and he slid into bed by your side. After only a couple of minutes, Lucifer shifted to face the wall. He already appeared asleep. He must really have been tired after all. Under the warm blanket, you reached to stroke his back again.

A novel idea formed in your mind. If all your attempts failed while he was awake, maybe subliminal messaging while asleep would be effective. You snuggled up close and whispered into his ear, “massage ticket… Use… the massage ticket…”

You weren’t expecting a reply, but Lucifer’s deep voice whispered back at you, “why would I waste such a valuable gift?"

"You're awake?" you gasped. Lucifer's prank had been unexpected. You began softly punching his back. "I thought you fell asleep."

"I'm awake, and I wasn't planning on using that ticket. Especially when you go through the trouble to do interesting things like this.”

Mammon ---

Mammon’s ticket had been confiscated. He no longer had it because he got up early, the most excited out of everyone to receive his shiny new presents, and once he saw what was in his stocking he knew that each of his brothers had one too.

Beelzebub walked in on him rooting around in everyone’s stockings to snag their massage tickets for himself and tackled him, as he thought Mammon was stealing Christmas chocolates. The commotion attracted everyone else and Mammon’s ticket was vetoed in a unanimous vote. But he still deserved a gift from you.

Instead of letting him choose a day and time like the others, you visited Mammon’s room when you felt like it. He was still pouting.

“You know I’ve been on my best behavior all year. S’not fair!” He punched the couch in frustration. He really had been getting into less trouble lately. It felt bad seeing him so down.

“Do you want one now? A massage, I mean. Don’t tell your brothers. It’s a limited time offer since you don’t have a ticket.”

“Ya mean it?”

You nodded, and his misery turned into excitement. He literally jumped up. “Well, do I get a little somethin’ extra too? Since I don’t have my ticket, ya know. Somethin’ to make up for that. I’ve got this nice little outfit you could wear that’s-”

You quickly cut him off before the Avatar of Greed gave too many demands. “Limited time offer with terms and conditions. Take the massage right now as-is or leave it. Up to you.”

“Aaarghh alright, alright. I’ll take it. Feel honored! I’ll humor your little massage for a while!”

Mammon dramatically pulled his shirt off but kept wearing the silliest, smuggest smile. He really was cute when trying and utterly failing to act tough. He sprawled himself out on the couch, “let’s see what you’ve got!”

Since the greedy demon hogged all of the couch space, there was nowhere to sit next to him within arm’s reach. With a “don’t mind if I do,” you decided to crawl over Mammon’s legs and sit on his butt.

In a moment of shock he wiggled out from under you. You would have toppled over the side of the sofa had Mammon’s famously fast reflexes not scooped you up, now placing you atop his chest. “Whaddya think you’re doin’, huh? Who said you could do that?”

“You did! How else was I supposed to… Look, do you want this or not?”

His scowl, no matter how big, couldn’t hide the blush on his face. “Yeah, ok, but just… warn me this time… Ok?”

Leviathan ---

It had been nearly a week since you last heard from Leviathan. After Christmas, you thought you might not see him at all until the new year. There were so many holiday game events happening, after all.

“Think I’m stuck,” read the message that popped up on your DDD late one night.

“Can’t move. Requesting reinforcements. And food.”

Concerned, you popped into the kitchen for whatever palatable finger foods you could assemble on a plate and began making your way to the third born’s room. You knocked, but there was no answer. It had been a while since he gave you a password, but it didn’t seem to matter now. You just walked in.

Leviathan was slumped over in his gaming chair, surrounded by roughly ten different screens. Each had a different game and one was streaming some idol talk show. His trash can, while still relatively contained, was almost overflowing with energy drink cans and snack packages. Levi didn’t seem to notice you walk in. He had been gaming for days. You set the plate at the edge of his PC desk.

“Dang. You live like this?”

Bleary-eyed and vitamin D deficient, he still shrieked. “Whuh? Don’t scare me like that!!”

“I came to answer your distress call. You’re stuck?”

“Oh, right. I did send that, didn’t I.” He turned back to the monitors briefly to pause a few things and save a few others. It was impressive how much he could multitask.

“My back’s turned into a pretzel. I thought I’d finally take a break, but when I went to stand up I couldn’t. I think I’m stuck to the chair, lol. If I, uh, use the massage ticket, could you help me?”

“’course I will. Here, drink something.” You slid him a juice. The gamer chair was pretty tall, blocking all access to Leviathan’s back, so you started tapping away at his shoulders. He scrambled to take his headphones off, which helped.

“Sorry to call you in for such a stupid reason. I know this is a disgusting sight..”

You shook your head, though he couldn’t see it. “How’s your game progress?””Oh, about 80% done everything? 85? But it’s mostly the daily quests now, I’ve maxed out on all the top prizes from the main event stories. Look, I even got this Christmas bow set. It has trash stats but looks like a tree and fires little candy canes.”

A big burly warrior with a Christmas hat on one of the screens demonstrated the weapon.

“Uwaah, you know that really helped. I think I can try to stand now.” Leviathan made a made show of setting his legs on the ground and leaning forward, only to magnificently slide back into the chair. “Ow. Ok. That, uh, wasn’t what I planned.” He turned away. “Don’t look at me.”

“No! Don’t give up!” You spun the seat around and he squeaked In astonishment. “We’re gonna make this happen. Levi! Do you trust me?” It was all or nothing. You dramatically reached out your hands. You knew you could do it. You were going to pull this demon out of the gamer chair.

Steeling his resolve, Leviathan nodded and grabbed your hands. You asked, “ready?”

He confirmed, “Ok… Ok lets go! One!”

“Two!”

As you shouted “three!” in unison, you tugged back with all your strength. Maybe you could have pulled a little less, as the two of you went flying backwards. There would have been some real damage if Levi didn’t cushion your head from the tiled floor with his arm.

“Woaaah it woooorked! We did--”

Mid-celebration, he seemed to notice he was in a compromising position on top of you. After barrel rolling off to the side, his voice got noticeably quieter. “We did it… yeah, uh… Sorry about--”

Leaving no room for negativity, you reached around his back and hugged him before he could finish the sentence. “I really missed you, y’know? Come out of your room more often, Levi.”

His face wasn’t visible, but you’re sure it was bright red as he stammered a soft “alright.”

Satan ---

Satan texted, asking if he could redeem his massage ticket after a long and tiring day. Said it was urgent. His presence was always in demand at social events, galleries, and book shop unveilings. After five busy events in one day he just wanted to return

home to relax with a book, but some idiots were running around the library playing war with rubber band shooters. His fuse that day was incredibly short. So he retreated to the comfort of his room, but each thudding footstep down the hall sounded irksome and brought Satan one step closer to snapping.

When you knocked at his door, wrath was seeping out the cracks into the hallway. He practically screamed at you to get inside. Satan was shaking on the edge of his bed, crushing an unrecognizable object in his hand. The room was dreadfully cold. You rushed to his side, practically jumping into the empty space next to him.

He barely acknowledged you. Rubbing slow, small circles on his back had a quick effect though. Upon hitting between his shoulder blades, his tense muscles loosened and he leaned against your side. You could hear him grinding his teeth. After a long minute passed he exhaled in relief.

You scooted back a bit and guided his head to your lap. Stroking continuous circles, one hand was in his rich blonde hair, the other against his shirt fabric. “Thank you for coming,” he muttered, rubbing a cheek against your thigh.“You really saved me there.”

“Any time. Do you want to talk about your day?” Your voice was low and soft.

“No. Just keep going.”

Gently pulling at his shirt collar, you loosened it to caress the back of his neck. He was still in his outdoor attire. He’d tell you about it in time, once fully calmed down. He tried to apologize for the outburst, though it wasn’t your fault and he didn’t quite know what to say. You brushed his hair back, combing it away from his forehead to let him know things were okay. It became your personal mission lessen the stiffness in his back. You’d work your way down his spine until he relaxed.

“Maybe I could read you a book, too?” You suggested, squeezing his shoulder. Satan shifted his hand to rub your knee in appreciation.

Asmodeus ---

Asmodeus set aside a whole spa evening to use your massage ticket. It was special. He filled his bath with high-end fragrances so his skin would be extra silky. He extended an offer for you to join him in the water, heated with magic to be the perfect temperature, but you said you’d wait in his room. Those baths can take hours. You’d be too pruny to feel, let alone massage anything. He had plenty of interesting magazines to flip through in the meantime, and you got to enjoy the plush sheets on his bed.

He waltzed out of the bathroom in a magnificently fluffy robe, another Christmas gift he’d received from somebody. “Thanks for waiting! Were you lonely? I’m allll ready!”

A brand new skincare set waited on the vanity, stocked with creams and masks for you to try together. Asmo plopped into a seat while you pulled up a spare chair behind him. “What are we starting with first?”

He rifled through the packages. “This!” A matte purple, gooey liquid. “I tried samples of this before, it smells divine. Come here!”

You let him plop a dab of the gloop on your nose and rub it into your cheeks. “There! Give it a few minutes and then wash it off. In the meantime, shall we begin? Hm?”

He turned to face the mirror and wiggled impatiently for his massage, cheekily sliding the robe off his shoulder. “I know you probably can’t wait much longer.” You both laughed. With the robe around his waist, you got to work redeeming the ticket. Pounding against his back didn’t seem to phase him at all, and Asmo hardly moved from the strength of your fists as he rubbed another cream under his eyes. He launched into a story about some fan who sent him a thirty page letter the other day.

“They described my beautiful eyes really well. It was even scented, and each page was another scent. Isn’t that wild? Do you think they did that themselves, or are the pages sold like that?” His eyes peered at you in the vanity mirror. “Hey, can you rub a little harder?”

“Oh, sure!” Knowing it would be hard for you to physically hurt him, you put a bit more force into each tap. “What scent was your favorite? Like, could you distinguish them?”

“Actually, yeah! There were lots of fruits like cherries, strawberries, one was pine scented, and a rose one of course.” Asmo glanced away from his own reflection once again and he shifted his weight back towards you. “Hey, hon? Harder?”

You obliged, squeezing his back muscles with as much strength as you could muster. “Is that… Was it the longest fan letter you’ve gotten?”Asmo let out a barely distinguishable moan. You almost thought you imagined it.

”Hm… Not by far…” He started, but trailed off. With a big breath, he moaned louder and leaned back further. “Oh, come on, harder… ” He wrapped his arms around his chest and wiggled.

“Asmo!? What the-- are you…? Gross!” You lifted your hands in shock and he burst out laughing. Without anything supporting him up, he fell into your lap in a fit of giggles. “Did you think I was serious? Ahaha! You’re so cute when you’re flustered!”

Beelzebub ---

“I ate something that didn’t agree with my stomach, can I redeem that gift for a massage? It might make me feel better.” That’s what Beelzebub asked one afternoon, stopping by your room after noticing the door open. It’s rare for something to upset Beel’s stomach. It must have been really rancid.

“Yeah, of course! You wanna do it here or your room?”

“We’re already here. If you don’t mind.” Beel walked in and made himself at home, smoothing out the covers on your bed.

You got up to shut the door, but wondered if a run to the kitchen would be useful.

“Will ice help? Or any kind of medicine?” Maybe even normal food would cancel out the bad stuff and make Beel feel better, but he declined. Beel already propped his head up on your pillow and laid down.

“You’re gonna lay face up? How am I supposed to rub your back?””My stomach hurts. I thought you could rub that, and I would feel better.””Oh.” Nobody else had been able to look at you directly while giving massages. This was more embarrassing.

Beelzebub realized he hadn’t taken his shirt off, but didn’t want to stand and repeat the process again, so he just pulled it up to his chest. His breathing did seem more labored than usual. Out of pity, you didn’t roll him over. “I haven’t done this way before, so tell me if it’s uncomfortable.”

The demon was so much bigger than you, it was hard to find a good starting spot. “You can sit here,” he said, patting his waist. “Only if you want to. I don’t mind.” So you scooted on up, placing your legs to the left and right of him. Beel is so muscled it was like sitting on a warm rock.

“Where does it feel uncomfortable? Here?” You prodded a bit around his stomach, careful not to make him sick.

“Pff, haha, yeah. That’s it.”

“That tickles?”

“Yeah.”

While Beel softly giggled, you worked your hands along the soft spots between his ab muscles. “What did you even eat?”

“A bath bomb.”You couldn’t help laugh along with him. Beel continued, “I didn’t know that’s what it was until Solomon told me though. I thought I maybe I accidentally had his cooking. It looked delicious. But I think it started expanding, and caused an ache.”

“I can’t blame you there. I almost ate soap once.”

“Really? You?” You were always the more level one when it came to food. “Did it look good?”

You nodded. “Boy, did it. And it smelled amazing, I could smell it from across the room. You probably smelled the bath bomb the moment you walked in that building, right?”

He vigorously nodded. “So you do get it!”

Beel reached up and pulled you into a big hug, catching you off guard so you practically fell on top of him. “Thanks for making me feel better.”

Escaping from one of Beel’s hugs was no easy feat, so you happily went along with it. “Any time. If you ever see one of those fake cupcakes again, maybe we can put it in the bath water and see what it does together.”

Belphegor ---

“I’ve got a fun idea. Meet me in the observatory?

When you showed up to Belphegor’s summons he was counting stars. The observatory was dark but the stars were bright enough to illuminate his silhouette standing in front of the window. He greeted you with a warm smile.

“I brought my ticket. I have a special request though.” Waving the massage ticket in

his hand, he came to meet you in the middle of the room. As your eyes adjusted you could make out that an old telescope was set up next to the fountain.

“ A special request? I guess I could hear you out since I came all this way.”

The two of you took a seat on the floor. For several moments, the only sounds were your own breathing and the soothing flow of water. When he didn’t start explaining, you were afraid Belphie might fall asleep in the peaceful silence. “Are you really gonna wait for me to ask what it is?”

“Yeah. If you wanna know, you should hurry up.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“What did you want to do?”

He reached to adjust the telescope in front of you at your eye level while explaining. “I thought we could stargaze together, but instead of just talking about what we see, we could draw them on each other’s backs. If you draw the constellations I can tell you what they are. When it’s my turn, I can show you what they look like and tell you stuff about it. What do you think?”

If your eyes could have stars in them, at this moment they would. “That sounds like a really fun idea.”

“Hehe, right? I told you. So take a look, what do you see?”

Belphegor turned his back towards you while you excitedly peered through the telecope. It was easy to focus and you quickly found a target to study.

“Two there, and then… Ok, I think I’ve got it. What’s this?”

You started to replicate what you saw with little knocks for stars, and connected them by slowly drawing arcs between the points. Belphegor’s jacket would slide over his shirt though, messing up the curves.

“Hm…” He sighed. “I thought I would be pretty good at this, but it’s hard to tell what you’re drawing.”

“This might be easier without the jacket,” you admitted.

“Really? I’m too tired to take it off though. Take it off for me?”

His brothers spoiled him too much, just like you did, so Belphegor didn’t move a muscle when you tried to peel off the warm jacket. You had to get in his personal space and lift his arms up for him. You told yourself the struggle would be worth it when you finally wrestled it off of him and could wear it yourself. He was being too uncooperative though, and eventually suggested “how about we switch? I don’t want to take this off, I’m comfortable now.”

Dejected without your warm prize, you agreed. The telescope stand rattled against the ground as he readjusted it and you turned away from him. “Do you still really want to use your massage ticket if I’m not the one doing it?” you inquired.

He hummed and hawed, mulling it over while gazing up at the sky. “Yeah, I do, if it lets me do fun stuff like this with you. I got one, let me know if you have this star sign in the human world.”

The first couple pokes sent tingles through your skin. The stars were really far away from each other, drawn on opposite sides of your lower back, but you weren’t prepared for such a delicate touch and had been distracted. “I don’t… think so? Hold on, draw it again.”

“Don’t you know? It goes like this.” He poked again, a little lower. You let out an

“eep!” and subconsciously scooted forward.

“Wait, I’m not done.” He was clearly holding back laughter. “I haven’t shown you this other one yet.”

The next constellation felt less like the trace of a star, and a lot more like Belphegor just wanted to tickle your sides. “Do you know what this is called?”

“Khh hahaha, no, I don’t.” The laugh-riddled admission further encouraged him. He wiggled lines all over your sides and crept his way to your stomach.

“I guess we have a lot of constellations to talk about then. Good thing the sky is so clear tonight.”

#person who sent me an ask - if you see this - i'm not ignoring it! im just mulling it over and started writing a few things. i'll try it! #obey me #obey me! #obey me fanfic #obey me fluff #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me x y/n #obey me drabble #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beelzebub x reader #obey me belphagor x reader #i wanted to go back and change some parts. but like. i get too embarassed reading my own stuff hjkghjks help

[vixstarria]

Another gift

This is a continuation of my headcanon of Astarion’s romance with bard Tav. I can’t remember the actual chronology of cutscenes, but let’s assume this takes place after you’ve started a sexual relationship with Astarion and are beginning to grow closer. I was going to take it in a different direction initially, but these things have a mind of their own once they get going. 

If you like it, check out my first fic. I do plan on writing more! 

P.S. I may have taken some liberties with the game background story and DnD lore and magic system here – if it doesn’t really match up or make sense – sorry! Also I’m still only on Act 2. 

Tav tries to comfort or distract a brooding Astarion. 

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav  

Comfort, fluff, budding love, humour, angst, banter, no spoilers, non-explicit 

Approximately 2,000 words. 

 

Astarion was standing outside his tent with his back to the camp, staring into a silver mirror. The man had either lost his vampiric condition, lost his mind, or was simply brooding.  

“Looking at something?” he asked absent-mindedly, as you approached. 

Brooding. Definitely brooding.  

“Looking for something.” 

“Oh?” He turned towards you. “Just my company, or is there something else I can offer you?” 

“I'm the one making an offering, actually. I thought I’d bring you a little snack” 

Astarion grinned and beckoned you inside his tent.  

Inside, aside from his bedroll, was a trunk with a large mirror opposite, a lit lantern and a scattering of weapons, equipment and books. You assumed your usual position, cross-legged on the bedroll, and offered him your wrist. This didn’t take long. Just a little pick me up.  

He finished, planting a light kiss on your wrist, reached for his amulet and whispered an incantation to heal the wound. He kept hold of your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.  

“Do you have any idea how much I appreciate that you don’t sexualise this?”  

“I haven’t thought about it... Really?” 

“Well imagine that any time you went to, say, take a bite of a turkey leg, there was someone staring, groping themselves and wagging their tongue at you. When you’re just trying to perform basic functions to stay alive.” 

“Sweetheart, that’s an average evening at the pub for me, when I perform. With or without me biting on anything. ...But I see what you mean”. You contemplated what he just said in a brief silence. “I can't believe you just compared me to a turkey leg.” 

“You’re more of a ripe, juicy peach” he said. You found yourself oddly pleased to be compared to fruit rather than poultry. 

You glanced at the large mirror standing on the floor of the tent.  

“You own an awful lot of mirrors for a vampire. Why do you even keep this here?” 

“That? Oh, it reflects light... makes the tent appear more spacious... prevents anyone from sneaking up on me. ...Unless they’re another vampire.” Astarion said contemplatively. “And I figured, I woke up once with a tadpole in my brain that let me walk in the sun again – who's to say I won’t catch another parasite tomorrow that might cure my vampirism entirely?” 

“Do you miss it? Seeing your own face?” 

“Preening in the looking glass? Petty vanity? Of course I miss it. I’ve never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red. My face is just some dark shape in my past. Another thing I’ve lost. I wouldn’t even recognise myself anymore. It’s been two hundred years.” 

“But...” you fumbled, trying to wrap your mind around that. “You could have found a street artist to sketch you since then.” 

“In the middle of the night?” 

“Or commissioned a portraitist, those artistic types would accommodate you any time of day or night” 

“Commissioned a - …I’m sorry, at what point did I give you the impression that Cazador paid us an allowance..?” Astarion was growing agitated. “And before you say I could have stolen – remember, everything I had, anything I acquired by any means, the clothes on my back, my body, my will – it all belonged to the master.” He paused, regaining control of his demeanour. “There was no point in having any possessions, it would all be the bastard’s in the end. I didn’t want to give him any more than I absolutely had to.” 

You kicked yourself in the ass mentally.  

“Well how’s this... We get to Baldur’s Gale. We exterminate Cazador and take over his palace. Then we rip out whatever he’s got as décor, commission all the best artists, and hang paintings of you on every wall. There will be nothing but portraits of Astarion everywhere.” Astarion’s eyes softened as he watched you gesticulating and getting carried away by your own imagination. “Astarion in shining armour. Astarion on a horse. Astarion on silk bedsheets, half-covered in rose petals. Pirate Astarion. Astarion stroking a cat. Historic events, but every single person depicted is Astarion. Oh! And in the main banquet hall, there will be an enormous mural of you, fully naked, lounging on a divan and being fed grapes by a cadre of nymphs.” 

“With a fig leaf covering my unmentionables?” 

“A comically large fig leaf. Or better yet, no fig leaf, just your full unmentionable glory looming over the dining table” You paused, as if sobering up after being lost in your grand vision, and added in a more serious tone: “We can commission busts and statues, too. Get a mold of your face for a hyper-realistic one.” 

“We” he whispered, as if to himself, with a scornful chuckle.  

“Oh? Do you have someone else in Baldur’s Gate you’d rather spend time with?” You realised how callous that might have come across as soon as the words were out, and cringed inwardly. 

“...No, I don’t” he said absently. 

“Elves live long lives... Do you still have real family there? Friends from... before? ...A spouse? Children?” You'd wondered about this before, and figured you may as well lie in the hole you’d dug for yourself.  

“Gods, no!” Astarion blinked in surprise. “I wasn’t even considered a full adult by elven society then. No, mercifully I didn’t leave any little Astarions behind. All my friends from my youth are either dead or have blissfully forgotten me. And I don’t even know where my family is.” 

You gave him a sympathetic and questioning look, waiting for him to go on. He sighed and continued. 

“As you might expect, Cazador placed a restriction on me, preventing me from telling anyone about my affliction. I couldn’t approach my old acquaintances and go ‘Surprise! I’m actually alive! ...Sort of. I’m just someone’s vampire spawn slave now!’. No. I was to turn around and walk the other way if I ever came upon anyone who might recognise me. I was supposed to be devoted only to my new ‘family’.” he scowled. “I feared that Cazador would use anyone he thought might be important to me against me - for fun, or to teach me a ‘lesson’. And he would have, too: the mental torture he unleashed on his spawn was far worse than physical.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I couldn’t go and see my family, but as soon as I had my wits about me, I managed to arrange for one of the mercenary guilds to quickly escort my relatives out of the city. They were to be told that I made some powerful enemies who had me murdered, and that these enemies would come for them next. That they had to leave, change their names, and never return. I don’t know where they went. I can’t know, if I want them to be safe.” He looked away. “I can’t imagine how much they hated and cursed me. I ruined their lives.” he whispered. 

“You saved them!” you objected, taking his hand. He shrugged but squeezed your hand back. 

“I suppose I might have. Cazador would’ve left their heads on spikes in my crypt by now, otherwise.” He met your eyes again. “So yes, if anyone is going to be helping me decorate a palace, it’s you.” he added with a false cheer, clearly finished with the topic of Cazador.  

You thought he might want to be alone then and were about to leave, but he gently pulled you towards himself. He was sitting on the ground with his back against a trunk. You settled between his legs, your back against his chest, his lips right at your ear, one arm across your shoulders and chest, the other playing with your hair. The large mirror was on the ground right in front of you. He studied your reflection over your shoulder. You appeared to be lounging suspended at an odd angle.  

“How does it even work, anyway... It’s not just your body that disappears, it’s your clothing, too”. You grabbed a hat from the top of the trunk, holding it by its crown, and held it over Astarion’s head, moving it in circles against his hair. “Now you see it...” You let go and watched it disappear in the reflection. “Now you don’t.” 

“I’m actually not sure, darling. Maybe it needs to be supported solely by me. Or it’s got to do with movement” He threw the hat back onto the trunk, where it reappeared in the reflection. 

“Say...” threw your head back to look up into his eyes “Do you think my reflection would disappear... if a part of you was inside?” you bit your lip and grinned mischievously.  

“I don’t think so, but I love how that dirty mind of yours works” he purred in your ear. “Let’s check and find out” His hand slid towards the clasp of your pants, but you swatted it away. 

“Later.” Suddenly you were on a mission. “I have an idea.” 

The rest of your group were gathered around the fire as you made a dash for your tent and grabbed your kit of stage paints and powders.

“Chk, are you doing each other’s makeup in there?” came a scoff from Lae’zel, as you rushed past. 

“Don’t be jealous, Lae. We’ll have a girls night and braid each other’s hair tomorrow” you retorted, making Shadowheart choke on her drink.  

Back in Astarion’s tent, you reached for one of your loose facial powders. 

“You really don’t need to do anything, I’m used to it and nothing will work anyway” protested a confused and weary Astarion. 

“Astarion!” you said gravely, “This isn’t for you. This is for science”, and you blew the powder hard into his face. Sure enough, an outline of his features appeared briefly in the mirror, as the powder flew all around him. “It worked!” 

“Fan-tastic! Too bad you had to blind me to achieve that split second of a silhouette!” he coughed and rubbed at his eyes. 

“It should work with water, too, if you want me to pour some over your head. You need to wash all that powder off anyway, you look ridiculous.”  

He glared at you through the still flying powder particles and pointed a finger at your face.  

“No.” 

“Actually, hang on, I have a better idea.” You heard him groan into his hands behind you, as you ran back to your tent, to return with an amulet.  

“So, the good news is, I am really, really bad at this.” 

“If this involves setting me on fire again...” 

“That was an accident. Anyway... No, this lets me create a fog cloud. Or so it should. I can just barely manage some fog tendrils. Now if I just aim them at your face...” You concentrated on the spell. Whisps of fog appeared around Astarion. “Look...” As the fog tendrils twisted in the air, you could just make out a form that they floated around, in the reflection, one unmistakably of a face.  

“Well...” breathed Astarion, transfixed by the reflection, trying to make motions with his head to make the fog recoil. “It’s not much, but it’s more than I’ve seen in centuries” 

“Come on” you grasped his hand. “Let’s go outside, it needs a different light and a slight breeze” 

Astarion snatched his handheld mirror and followed you. He was actually eager.  

Outside, Astarion spun in the whispy fog, gazing at the mirror in disbelief, as you continued to concentrate on the spell. It was actually working. Your conjuration magic was just bad enough to make the thinnest layer of fog, framing his face like a delicate mask and reflecting in the mirror. What would have been considered incredibly precise work by a wizard, was made possible entirely thanks to you borderline failing.  

“That’s better... I’ll channel the fog right, you turn left against it. No, your other left! No, don’t go into the fire, you idiot, it won’t be my fault this time” 

You grabbed Astarion by the hand and tried to guide him away from fire and anything he could trip over – he was paying exactly zero mind to anything around him, as he semi-stumbled in circles, looking in the mirror. Scratch ran around you, barking, excited for a new game, and eventually tripped you both. 

“Another gift...” Astarion smiled at you, as Scratch did his utmost to lick his face.  

Meanwhile, the group watched the two of you from a distance, dumbfounded. Lae'zel broke the silence: 

“Your people have the strangest mating rituals.”  

“Should I... should I tell them I can probably just cast mirror image on him? I’ve only done it on myself, but it should follow the same principle” added Gale. 

“Maybe tomorrow” said Shadowheart. “Just let them enjoy this tonight.” 

~~~~~

Next in series

AO3

#astarion #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic

[chrisevansonly]

𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: charles leclerc x female reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: life is too heavy to carry, thankfully your boyfriend will carry it with you

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: talks of mental health and suicidal thoughts, mentions of depression, heavy topics so please read at your own discretion

𝐚/𝐧: i’ll be honest this is self indulgent and i know i said i wasn’t writing but idk i feel so low and thought writing about how im feeling might help? ive struggled with mental illness my whole life so i find writing it out in a way i can enjoy helps…i hope it helps others that are in need of it too<3

Life is painful, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, it’s dark and gloomy, heavy and hard to carry, life is painful. Okay well maybe not for everyone but for you it was, and it was draining, exhausting really trying to survive each day instead of living like everyone else. Truth be told you’d struggled with mental illness for as long as you can remember. In high school the suicidal thoughts came into play and you had fallen into a place no one deserved to fall.

You’d hear people tell you to smile, cheer up, get outside and take in the fresh air, but they don’t understand. They don’t get the internal pain one feels when they deal with depression and anxiety, unless you live it: you don’t get it.

So yes, life was painful but there was an ounce of sunshine in your life and it came in the form of Charles, your boyfriend of exactly three years. The man who broke through the storm to bring you blue skies and calm waters, the man who held you tightly as you cried for a break, aching for a moment of peace within yourself. Charles was a gift, you were sure of it: he was too.

“my love…?”

His voice was soft, delicate as it filtered through the dark bedroom, eyes filled with concern as he looked at you huddled under the blankets, almost willing them to swallow you whole

“hmm?”

It might not have been a word but Charles would take it

“can I get you anything? do you need something?”

The room fell silent again except for the sound of covers shifting, your head peaking over the duvet

“y-you please”

Hearing your voice break was enough for Charles to promptly move from his place in the doorway, lifting up the covers on his side of the bed before settling down and pulling you into his side, letting you virtually melt against him

“okay, okay i’m here, it’s okay amour..”

“it-it hurts”

“i know baby, i know it does…but it will only hurt for a little, i promise you.”

You wanted to believe him, you really did, but how many years would you have to suffer before it truly felt like you would never know how to feel okay.

“it’s hard to be here”

Now this caught Charles attention right away, having known your past with depression and even suicidal thoughts, he felt his blood run cold at the thought of you being anywhere than right here with him

“listen to me baby, i know it hurts, i know it’s hard, but i promise you i will help you find your sunshine, i will help you find your happiness”

He paused shifting to rest a hand on your cheek, his thumb swiping at a stray tear on your cheek

“i love you with everything in me, and i will do whatever i can to help you through this, if you need me to carry more of the weight, let me, if you need a shoulder to lean on more than usual, do it. you are my entire world baby, i won’t ever leave you out in the dark to take this on all on your own..”

Letting out a soft sniffle you looked up at him, always appreciating just how much love he held for you in his eyes alone

“why, i-i’m so sad a-all the time”

“because i love you. it doesn’t matter if your angry, happy, sad it’s part of you, i love all of you no matter what, and i am not going anywhere”

Charles leaned forward, pressing his lips to your forehead letting you have a minute to just digest everything he was saying

“pinky promise?” you asked softly, holding your pinky finger out which brought a soft smile to his face

“pinky promise baby, always.”

Nothing else needed to be said as you curled yourself further into his side, his arms only tightening on you, as if to keep you from slipping away from him. Charles knew words only helped so much, but he was willing to do whatever it took to bring you blue skies back. Even if it took days or weeks, even months, Charles was going to be right beside you, every step of the way.

Life might be painful, but you never had to go through it alone again.

#rueswrites #ruesanswers #ruesanons<3 #ruesasks #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc x wife reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 masterlist #formula 1 blurb #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

[iluvzaddies]

soft yandere!wanderer headcannons

warnings: none

the wanderer had many names: kabukimono, kunikuzushi, scaramouche, the balladeer.

after he lost a battle with the well-known traveler, he became the wanderer, a puppet with no strings. a puppet with a different style and his very own anemo vision.

he changed for the better and it was all thanks to nahida, the traveler, and you.

you helped him retrieve his memories along with nahida and the traveler.

you helped out only a bit, but still, he was grateful.

he would feel indescribable emotions whenever you were around. at first, he thought there was something wrong with him, but discovered what he was feeling was in fact love.

“love” was a foreign word to him. ever since his birth, he never once experienced love. his creator, the almighty shogun or the god of eternity, saw no worth in him and discarded him like trash.

sure, he had met a few friends, but neither of them filled the void of loneliness in his heart because they either died or abandoned him.

he wanted to forget his past and focus on the present, so he tried his best not to act in a way he would back when he was a harbinger.

he wanted to shower you in gifts as thanks, but that would be a problem since he wasn’t acquainted with the fatui anymore, meaning he had no mora and would have to make mora independently somewhere.

“sc– i mean, wanderer, what are you doing?” you asked, furrowing your brows, as you saw the ex-harbinger behind a fruit stand.

“oh… i’m just trying out a new job... figured i’d have to do something to make a living since i’m not in the fatui anymore.” he felt his face heat up at the sight of you. just one look at you was enough to make him flustered. “so, this is what sumerians do to make mora? sell pieces of fruit?”

”yeah, i guess. you can try selling jewelry too or make mora off of dancing.” you imagined him, an ex-harbinger, dancing for mora. the thought made you chuckle.

“dancing? for mora? how would that benefit anyone?”

“benefit? people just like that sorta stuff. it’s entertaining for them.”

“i see. do you like that sort of stuff?”

the way he asked that question was adorable.

oh no, did you just find him adorable? he literally tried to kill you, nahida and the traveler not too long ago. how could you find him adorable?

“i– i do like watching dances. nilou’s my favorite dancer. i make sure not to miss out on any sabzeruz festivals or just any sumerian festivals.” you rubbed the back of your neck.

“hm.” he looked like he was actually considering it.

“hey, wanderer, (y/n).” nahida greeted, approaching the both of you.

“oh, nahida! it’s nice to see you again.”

“it’s nice to see you too, (y/n). i’d like to thank you once more for your help back then. traveler and i really appreciated the gesture.” nahida smiled at you then turned to wanderer. “how have you been faring, wanderer?”

“tch, it’s you again–“ he stopped, remembering he wasn’t supposed to act like his arrogant, aggressive self before (at least in front of you). “i mean i’m fine. selling fruit isn’t too hard.” it wasn’t as hard as shedding blood every single day.

“i’m glad you’re doing well.” nahida put a hand on her chest.

“well, i got to go now. you guys continue talking. goodluck with your new job, wanderer. see you around, nahida.” you said, giving them a wave, and left before wanderer could say anything else.

“you have feelings for her, don’t you?” nahida noticed his expression turn from soft to irritated. “i can see the longing look in your eyes.”

“shut up. you ruined everything with your presence.” he grumbled.

he watched as you were getting further and further away from him.

you would be his someday. he’d make sure of that. and once you were his, he wouldn’t ever spend a day apart from you. he would treat you so well. he would shower you in gifts (using his self-earned mora), take you out on “dates” (a human activity where you bring your partner to eat somewhere beautiful, he learned) and eventually confess his feelings to you.

if you return his feelings, oh that would make him the happiest puppet alive. he would happily sweep you off your feet and start a brand new life together with you.

#scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x you #yandere x reader #yandere wanderer x reader #soft yandere #soft scaramouche #genshin headcannons #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin fluff

[dfortrafalgar]

Gift of Belonging

Luffy x GN Reader

Life didn't have a purpose without Luffy.

Warnings: Fic from my 100 followers poll!!! can be read as either platonic or romantic, mentions of self deprecating thoughts but nothing too severe, just some short, feel good, reassuring hugs from our favorite straw hat-wearing captain <3

Taglist: @bokutosbiceps | @luffy0s | @surgeonoffish

You were at the end of your rope when you joined the straw hats, but who wasn’t?  You weren’t special in the grand scheme of the world’s most infamous pirate crew.  You couldn’t compare to the tumultuous lives of the rag-tag bunch that had quickly become your lifeline, you had nothing on being the child of an abusive royal family, or the last survivor of a decimated nation, or the unfortunate witness to the killing of a friend or parent, or a literal god.  You weren’t a cyborg or an animal or a reincarnated being hundreds of years old.  You were just… simple.

And yet, the Straw Hats made you feel accepted.

They made you feel wanted.

And no one had wanted you more than Monkey D. Luffy.

You still struggled to accept the boisterous boy’s words when he welcomed you aboard his grand ship.  You had put up an argument, insisting that you would only get in the way, that your strengths paled in comparison to the rest of the crew, that you had no business being a part of the inner circle of one of the Emperors.  But not a single eyelash was batted in the direction of your plight.  Simply endless stares of patience, waiting for you to finally bite the lure and climb up the gangway and officially join the Straw Hats.  And when you finally did, Luffy had said the words that had stuck with you since then.

“I don’t care who you are.  You’re special and you deserve a spot in my family.”

It was as if the world opened up around you for the first time.  Instead of seeing your surroundings in black and white, colors infiltrated your retinas in ways you had never experienced.  Suddenly, the sunshine that beat down on your skin felt like a pleasant hug from the world, rather than a punishing burn against your weary being.  Food you ate and drank every single day tasted extra good because it was always cooked with love and affection, the flirtatious cook not caring at all where you had come from.  Luffy and his crew made it known from the second they met you that you were deserving of love, respect, and friendship.

And you couldn’t lie… the first few days were overwhelming.

The Straw Hats were loving.  They were really loving, and their unique ways of showing they appreciated you were slowly building up in your veins like a disease until one night, when you were on watch, you cracked.

You broke down.

You sat on the stern of the Thousand Sunny, gazing out from the white-painted railings and over the vastness of the dark ocean and seamlessly blended in with the sky above you, the only light shining on you being from the twinkling stars millions of light years away.  Quiet, salty tears flowed down your cheeks, your shoulders clenched as you wrapped your arms around yourself, sniffling into the collar of your shirt.  You loved your crew, you really did.  You began to realize that you loved them more than you ever loved anyone else in your life, and that thought somehow scared you.  Like you were unprepared.  Like your heart had been so deprived of love for your whole life that the overabundance of it in such a short time caused your brain to short-circuit.  And you cried.  You weeped on the Sunny’s back deck, into the calmness of the night.

Until the sound of clopping flip-flops climbing the steps to where you sat alerted your attention, causing you to freeze up, holding your breath, wishing your tears could evaporate away.

“Hey, what are you doing up here alone?”  It was Luffy, his usually exuberant voice a rare form of calm as he approached you.  He wasted absolutely zero time in plopping himself onto the hard deck beside you, extending his legs and holding his arms out, hands behind his head.

You stayed hunched into yourself, trying to hide your shame in your hands.

“Hey… are you alright?” he asked, his voice somehow even softer.

A faint sniffle from you was all your captain needed to hear.  He sat up with a start and grabbed your shoulders with his calloused hands, yanking you around to face him.  Your eyes were wide with shock at his actions, but you stayed frozen.  It’s not like you could run anywhere, the man was made of rubber.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, his eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed, an intense stare that bored into your skin.  “Did someone say something to you?  Did someone hurt you?”

You shook your head, wiping your tears away on your arm.  You took a deep, shuddering inhale before finally forcing your shoulders to relax.  “No… no one said anything to me.”

“Then why are you crying?”

Luffy, despite not being overly emotional in normal circumstances, was scarily good at reading people.  It didn’t matter if you couldn’t outright say what was bothering you, he would eventually figure it out with that convoluted tunnel system of a brain.  His adorable lips curled into a pout as he analyzed your face, picking apart every twitch of your muscles.

You inhaled once more, turning your face away from him slightly.  “I’m just… not used to this.”

“Not used to what?”

His questions, and the feigned clueless tone of his voice almost made a smile crack onto your face.  Another talent of Monkey D. Luffy: he was like a wrecking ball for the walls you built up around yourself.

“I’m not used to… this.”  Your hands circled around you, gesturing to the ship, causing Luffy to finally drop his hands from your shoulders.  “Being a part of a crew.  You guys are… too nice to me.”

Luffy was ready with a response immediately.  “We could never be ‘too nice to you.’  That’s impossible.  We love you.”

Your lip quivered slightly.  “That’s what I’m not used to.”

“Being loved?”

There it was.  You feebly nodded.  “Yeah.  That.”

Your captain scooted across the deck closer to you, if that was even possible.  He was basically flush against you at this point.  He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm bear hug, his fluffy black hair tickling the skin of your cheek.  “We love you because you’re special to us, we don’t need a reason for that,” he described.  His voice faltered, as if he wanted to say something else, as if he was trying to add to his words.  Instead, he squeezed you into him, closing his eyes as he felt your muscles grow limp.  ‘We love you, but I love you more.’

“I just wish it was easier for me to accept that,” you whispered into his shoulder, struggling to hug him back.

Luffy’s embrace didn’t relent.  If anything, he tried to pull you in closer.  The force of his hug made you lose your balance on the floor, falling over on top of him, your chin hitting his shoulder.  But he still didn’t let up.  He held firm, squeezing you as if you would fade away into dust if he let go.

“Luffy–” you wheezed against his skin.

“What?”  He sounded completely oblivious.  “I’m going to keep hugging you until you don’t feel sad anymore.  No more crying,” he demanded.  “Captain’s orders.”  His last sentence held a hint of playfulness, the smile he surely wore on his face coming through the sound of his voice.

He must have been contagious, because your own grin slowly grew on your lips.  After what felt like hours, you finally reciprocated his hug, curling your arms under him and letting yourself finally relax in his embrace.  You knew Luffy had odd ways of showing he cared, but this was definitely unexpected.  Unexpected, but not necessarily unappreciated.  His presence emitted a warmth akin to summertime air, his existence like the calming breeze of the open ocean that wafted around you and circled you in comforting drafts.  Luffy never judged, never wavered, never ceased to let his crew, and now you, know how truly grateful he felt to be able to live his life with his favorite people.

You made a slight movement to stand up, but Luffy’s arms tightened their hold around your back.  “Not yet,” he grumbled.  “I don’t wanna stand up yet.”

“Is this how you comfort everyone on the crew?” you asked, your voice coming out muffled as you spoke into his neck.

“Hmm… not necessarily.  Everyone’s different.  Chopper really loves hugs, and Zoro lets me hug him, but sometimes Nami and Robin can take them or leave them.  Usopp likes hugs but doesn’t like to admit it.”  A smile crawled to your face as your captain rattled off the preferences of your fellow crewmates, the ways in which he perceived their unique and individual personalities bringing a comforting reassurance to your heart.  “I feel like you really like hugs, and you clearly needed one right now.”

You bit the inside of your lower lip, trying to bite back the tears that formed in the corners of your eyes.  The tension escaping your body dissipated in large waves, leaving you with nothing but warmth and comfort in the arms of the man who had surely saved your life.

And for the first time since officially joining the Straw Hats, you began to feel truly, unconditionally loved.  It was miraculous.  All it took was a single hug from the nicest, most selfless person you had ever met.

Someday, you’d be sure to return the favor for Luffy, even if he wouldn’t accept.

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy #luffy oneshot

[aqwnstars]

Give me siren scara or bratty mermaid scara hc pls. I'm begging you. I'm on the floor. I'm bashing my head on the wall.

HEY POOKIE<33 TYSM FOR REQUESTING!!

- A.N- I haven't been writing lately because my schools getting harder and I recently got an F in an exam so i have to study so the alpha scara isn't coming out soon so sorry my lovelies :(( I try to do my requests first, and then any other fanfic i started doing, but since fanfics take me a week or so to write, this one.... will be written in a headcanon format.. I'm not that experienced with writing a hc format so any criticism is appreciated, in a later time i might make a whole fanfic<33 (FUUCKKCKKKS I FORGOT TO WRITE HIM AS A BRAT ONEOMFMKOAKXKSK)

uhhmmmm i keep noticing i always write scara pining over reader which im not sure if its TOTTALLLYY in character, but writing him pinininy is cute so stfu🙏🙏🙏

Siren Scaramouche x partially deaf gn reader

Word count: 686 (short one..)

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None!!

Pronouns: You/Yours, reader can be any gender (meant to be gender neutral!!)

Loving waves

Siren! Scaramouche who was known in the underwater world as the most majestic siren out of all.

His voice was such a lulling song so much so that anyone who gave him their listening ear couldn't help but be entranced.

And how shocked he was when he met a person he couldn't lure in.

He began to only think about them, at first planning on how to kill them because he wouldn't let someone he choose to lure in and kill survive, due to his ego, but that began to turn into a genuine interest a few weeks later.

Without thinking about it, Scaramouche had spent hours just staring at you, he wouldn't say it's admiring of course.

It has become a routine at this point, you'd go work outside, maybe take a walk and he'd just stare at you, gazing longingly at your features from afar.

The way you two met would be as if it was straight out of a fairy tale, he'd get caught up in a fishing web, and you'd be his knight in shining armor!!

Him, being a siren, is seen as a terrifying being, a coldblooded murderer, but to you he was such a majestic being, if you were more naive you'd think he was a God (in which case, he wouldn't complain!!)

Everyday since you had saved him, you started to visit him. You brought little trinkets from your home, and he brought you a few shells. (sometimes that is, if you're lucky!!) Might I add, the shells he gifted you were like no other. They range in colors and shapes, not even the most avid collecters saw the shells he had given you.

He enjoyed spending time with you, more than he thought he would. He has gotten used to being alone, so a daily presence in his life was something unusual.

He'd let you touch his tail, his face turning pink as you compliment him. Your fingers on his tail, lightly caressing his scales. He couldn't help but look away as you admired him. If anyone else had requested to touch his tail, he'd plan a new song just for them, ...let's ignore the fact he offered to let you touch his tail, that's an unimportant detail.

One of the things he loved, ahem... liked most about you is the gentleness your eyes hold. He has gotten so used to the trashing waves of hatred in the mankinds eyes, but to see one's with calming flowing water? He could and would get lost in that body of water, no hesitation, of course he wouldn't tell you that though!

He wanted to listeh to you all day, anyone who said his voice was enchanting has never heard yours. Although you sometimes slur your words, stutter and at times get too loud, he loves that about you.

At times he wished you were a siren too, how beautiful would you look under the waters light he wonders. How would your tail sway in the oceans, rivers and seas?

One time, you asked him whether or not he can sing without indangering someone, he had never thought about that. Well of course he's not gonna risk losing his only love to find out, but that's a story for another day.

A few things I can definitely see him doing is;

Giving you his scales! He could tell how you always admired his tail, your eyes glowing at how his tail would practically shine under the Suns light. One night, he'd pluck a scale out, later in the say give it to you, saying: "It had accidentally fallen out, here. Don't think for a second I pulled it out for you." All while looking away, trying to look as non-chalant as possible while.. panicking inside over your reaction.

This might seem cruel, but he'd sing to insects, without the intention of killing them, to see if he can sing to you without putting you in danger.

He'd look around the seas floor for hours to find a shell that you'd like!! (.. you like everything he gives you so that's... pointless..)

AND THAT'S ALL I HAVE ON SIREN SCARA!!! :DD I HOPE I SATISFIED YOUR REQUEST POOKIE!!! (hope i did the hc format right..............

#genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #genshin x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche

[lurkinggirlie]

Elain & Azriel are EndGame

Azriel’s bonus chapter: semi-essay on my thoughts

This post will be a long one. The shipwar has been going on for far too long, and there's a possiblity that we'll be getting closure soon. So, I want to put my thoughts out there. For Obvious reasons, I could be very wrong, but this is what I think based on canon text: (Ignore any errors..I haven't edited this, and I'm sure there are many posts like this that are way more articulate)

Elriel are endgame. If they’re not then Azriel is kinda pathetic and having him end-up with anyone else is bad writing and character assassination. (Which we sadly won’t put past sjm but I don’t think she would..at least I hope)

1- Elain has no other love interest. Yes, Lucien is her mate but we have hinted at a broken/rejected mating bond for the longest time when it comes to these two so having them accept it eventually is going to be quite underwhelming, repetitive and boring. Even Lucien seems to have given up/isn’t interested in bridging that gap between them, which we’re told in both acofas and acosf. Unless you want to count the longing pointed out by Cassian, although Cassian also pointed out that Lucien was also uncomfortable when he mentioned his mate. To add on, there is no sexual tension between the two, and we know how important that is for sjm’s couple. You can't keep whining "but Elain isn't giving him a chance, if only she gave him a chance, then maybe this and maybe that" Elain is not a seprate entity, she is what SJM writes, Sjm could have written that but she did not yet and I'm not sure if she will. It feels too late at this point, she had already shown us that Elain has feelings for someone else aka Azriel. The author doesn't have to spell everything out for us to understand to what's going on. Sarah usually makes it clear who's endgame. and she literally is. So, it would be very sudden and out of the blue if Lucien and Elain were to end up together when she had never shown it before. When even Azriel pointed this out “I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him, anyway” people can say Rhys killed elriel, that the bonus chapter ended them. But this line right here tells us otherwise! First we know Azriel and Elain can read each other so well that they don’t need words, and then Azriel tells us this. He’s literally telling us that Elain does not want Lucien.

We also cannot compare elucien to Feysand or Nessian in the “enemies to lovers" department, because these two seem to hardly care about each other. For obvious reasons she wouldn’t accept or reject Lucien in a book that isn’t hers. But if they do end up together I’d feel robbed that she had more sexual tension with Azriel than she did with Lucien. And we know that Nessian and Feysand had sexual tension before getting together. Most of what we got from Elain and Lucien was awkwardness, and discomfort. Not a single spark. Furthermore, it would feel like Azriel was just leading Elain own. Plus their romance (Lucien and Elain)  would not feel organic, only getting with Lucien because she felt rejected by Azriel, which doesn’t give epic romance no matter how sjm tries to spin it. It would always make Lucien seem like the second choice.

2- Azriel regifting the necklace was a dickhead move, and offensive to both girls. Anyone thinking the regifting of the necklace ended elriel or started gwynriel is delusional and clearly doesn’t know how the romance genre works. (should’ve thrown the gift in the Sidra like Cassain did) I can’t believe Rhys isn’t paying Azriel enough that he felt the need to return the necklace to the shop instead of throwing it. Senstive Illyrian baby indeed. 

3- Rhys saying stay away from Elain (can we take a moment to appreciate how sexy Rhys was for pulling rank, he really made the ship more interesting now) and Azriel actually listening to him?? When he told him you can’t order me to do that. shit would be underwhelming if Azriel actually stayed away? Hello? Secret relationship potential ? Hello? Forbidden romance potential  ??? The tropes would be epic. Sjm had never done that. And I’m not saying she will, but this is how I see it playing out. + Azriel saying it was a mistake to Elain, and Elain apologizing?? The fact she was confused/hurt and probably thought she misunderstood the whole situation? SHE IS BABYGIRL?? Regardless, Azriel saying it was a mistake and it being a mistake is NOT it. This is not how romance works most of the time. This is such a basic romantic trope, why are a lot of people misinterepting it? Elain deserves better, and sjm isn’t about to hurt Elain’s feelings without making it up to her. And she’s definitely not making Azriel end up with another girl before he fixes that shit. I will be needing a proper apology to Elain.  

4- Whenever people think of the bonus chapter they weigh in Azriel’s feelings far more than Elain’s. It’s clear that Elain and Azriel’s feelings are MUTUAL, ignore the bonus chapter and it’s right there in the actual book. I don’t think Elain got the memo that Azriel had  a conversation with another girl after he hurt her feelings which made him realize he’s in love all of a sudden. *sarcasm*  that would be very out of character for Azriel. 

5- His chest sparkling at the thought of Gwyn getting the necklace was so??? I have been saying he’s for the streets and yes this was out of pocket. So, I understand people shipping them. However it could mean anything really, you can't continue saying that Gwyn in the bonus has to mean something, and that that spark must mean somethig but continue to disreagrd every single Elriel interaction like they mean nothing. Because for it to be taken as romance we’d have to ignore the beginning of the bonus, the feysand’s bonus acosf/acomaf/acowar and acofas. + we could easily take this in a platonic way, which is how I viewed it when I read the bonus. Not everything has to be romantic. And sjm will NOT introduce a new guy to make him end up with Elain since we already established Elain doesn’t want Lucien and Lucien doesn’t want her either. 

6- I know that a lot of people have theories about Gwyn being a lightsinger and all of this happening because of her powers (While I do think this is very smart, it wasn’t something I thought of so I won’t talk about it). I do think it’s possible, and all the theories I saw were really cool but idk where sjm is going with this, so to make it simple I do think it could be because she’s his student, she went through a lot it could simply be platonic happiness that a girl who went through so much is going to be happy about something. Even if it was a secondhand necklace specifically picked with ANOTHER girl in mind PLUS I do think sjm wanted drama, and for people to doubt elriel cuz now they have all these obstacles, so Gwyn would be the easy choice, but the second choice regardless. The relationship would feel icky and I genuinely cannot see the potential gwynriels keep talking about. I would take the ship a lot more seriously if a) he didn’t regift her another girl’s necklace b) there was more to them in the actual book. c) he wasn’t still upset about it 3 days later… 

7- There’s a high possibility Gwyn never even got the necklace..

He gave it to Clotho not Gwyn, he didn’t want his name mentioned, and then said if any other girl would like it to give it to them: the aim was to get rid of Elain’s necklace. It’s sort of a parallel with Cassain throwing away Nesta’s present.

I think it’s possible that Azriel went there because he knows how much the girls in the library have suffered, especially since his mom did too, it's possible he thought "okay this is a pretty necklace, I don't want to hold onto the reminder of what could've been, so instead of throwing it let another girl be happy about it. At least it won’t go to waste”

Clotho could tell there was something wrong, like maybe she sensed the energy and decided ayeee let me keep this aside for him, he might come back and ask for it. 

The bonus did not happen at the end of the book 

If Azriel was truly in love with Gwyn now /or he wanted her/ or more between them was going to happen/ or they were mates according to some theories we could have AT LEAST gotten more after the bonus. 

We know the bonus happened after solstice.

Nesta mentions that Azriel was stone-faced and more aloof than usual, he wouldn’t even give her a smile. That was 3 days after the necklace situation. I think it would’ve been a great opportunity to highlight any attraction between Azriel and Gwyn.

Maybe he sees the necklace around her neck, maybe Nesta and Emerie compliment Gwyn’s necklace, or Gwyn telling them she doesn’t know who it’s from, maybe they tease her that someone might have a crush on her. Nesta could’ve pointed out that Azriel was looking at Gwyn’s necklace.or looking at Gwyn in some sort of way. Literally anything. 

Anyone pointing out the way Azriel and Gwyn looked at each other. A charged glance perhaps. Literally ANYTHING. We only got him looking at her with admiration which is very teacher coded. 

If sjm hadn’t made Nesta realize Azriel had a thing for Elain then maybe gwnyriel would’ve been more appealing to me. But no, Nesta noticed. This doesn’t mean nothing people.

aside from that we got nothing romantic, but a part of the fandom still acts like we need to exile Elain because she’s coming between Gwyn and Azriel’s epic love story.

Not everyone has access to the bonus.  

The Azriel chapter was only in ONE store in the US, but Feysand’s bonus chapter was in 3 stores in the US and UK. I don't know but something tells me it’s more important.  Soooo if SJM would do a love interest switch she would not do it in a bonus chapter, and wouldn’t be highlighting the Az/Elain interactions in ACOSF as much as she did. 

Feyre’s chapter focuses on Elain, it literally tells us Elain is next once we’re done helping Nesta. EASY MATH. and the Azriel bonus also focuses on elriel/Azriel’s feelings. ENDGAME MATERIAL RIGHT HERE. 

But the girls swear up and down that Gwyn and Azriel’s book is next because of a secondhand necklace. 

Let’s assume elriels are the delusional ones (like so many of them say), how do we explain these. 

Casual readers who usually read books and aren’t on the internet and aren’t looking for bonus content (wish that was me)  (lord knows I skipped every bonus chapter in throne of glass and crescent city and I wasn’t confused about anything. Not even once) so they’d expect answers for 

The Charged glance between Azriel and Elain

Azriel following the sound of Elain’s laughter. 

Elain looking away when Azriel smiled at her during family dinner, Cassian god bless him that idiot could NOT piece all of that together. BUT it was still highlighted through his POV ???

His secret to tell never hers (and we do learn of that secret in the bonus but people who didn’t read it could only guess so they’d want a confirmation) and sjm did say in one of her lives that Nesta learns of one of Azriel’s secrets (she looked all giddy about it)... and that Azriel is going through some shit right now…and we learn why from the bonus chapter. 

Cassian being confused that it seems like Azriel moved on from Mor

Nesta pointing out that Elain moved on from Graysen

Cassian wondering why Elain is lying about where she’s going. (I viewed this as her avoiding Azriel but idk) 

Azriel’s protectiveness of Elain. He gives mate behavior without the mate part. (I will hit him on the head though omg let my girl do something)

Elain willing to look for the troves even when Nesta wasn’t, the girl wants to do something  (her journey is coming next) 

Nesta wondering if Elain is training with Azriel or the twins (who are spies that were trained by Azriel !!!) 

Feyre telling Azriel that Elain got him beat for secret keeping. Sure it might sound delusional but Elain keeps being compared to Az/being a spy and maybe this could be a thing. 

Elain speaking back to her sisters about them treating her like a child?? Hello finally 

The way Elain’s mother only treated her like a pretty doll which shaped up Elain’s whole life??? I want this from Elain’s POV sooo bad 

In conclusion, we’re not pausing Elain’s story so Azriel can end up with a side character in a spinoff about an og side character, we’re sticking to our og side characters for now.

Azriel being over Mor because of Elain, and Elain moving on from Graysen because of Azriel only for Elain to get over Azriel to be with Lucien (who we got nothing from aside a mating bond..) and for Az to get over Elain and questioning fate for her…only to end up with gwyn…like I don’t think anyone could take Azriel’s feelings seriously if this happens. Shit will be too goofy.  Because if he ends up with Gwyn who says he won’t move on to the next pretty girl he sees afterwards.

To add to that, what plot would we have for Azriel and Gwyn. We'll get more Valkyries training, more healing journey so the plot would have to be paused for this. Nesta’s book was mostly about her healing journey and friendship, while it was nice I don’t want a repeat for the next book. Especially since we know the Rite took a toll on Gwyn, she went back to the library, wasn’t even sure she would make it to Nessian’s mating ceremony. This doesn’t give the protagonist of the next book to me. Or "I thought it was pretty obvious"

Elain’s healing journey had started in ACOWAR, she got her friends in ACOWAR. Now is their TIME to do something!! She is next. 

Closing thoughts on what I think would happen based off each ship happening: 

If elriel happens = new sjm couple dynamic/interesting plot. Fresh sjm protagonist that is unlike sjm's others + we don’t ignore all the foreshadowing and hints. We follow the love triangle we set up in the og trilogy + finally get a rejected mating bond. And instead of warrior training we might get spy training and instead of physical power (as far as we know) we get something more mental. Again this is very new for sjm + there’s a lot to Elain’s power that we don’t know and since Azriel was the one who found out what she was, I think it would make more sense for him to know how to help her. Imagine the sexual tension during training..yes please. I hope sjm doesn’t rob me. Elain is really mysterious, we got Nesta’s inner thoughts before her book but we still haven't gotten a peep about Elain’s inner thoughts and I’m just dying to know more. AND THE STAKES!

1) Rhys forbidding Azriel from Elain, 2) Elain’s mating bond,3) Azriel’s self doubt and how he doesn’t think he’s good enough. 4) The blood duel and the political mess we could get into. (Lucien probs won't but what if Beron would, the breeding potential, A seer must be a powerful thing she can see things others can't and I think that’s valuable. If Eris thought Nesta was valuable as cauldron made and there was no potential there, so The Autumn court probably feels even more entitled to Elain) We have high inner and outer stakes. I have a feeling SJM will fumble all this potential but a girl can dream 

If elucien happens = another successful mating bond + “enemies”  to lovers sort of but they won’t ever be mean to each other so maybe not enemies, just dislike and awkwardness to friends to lovers?  We ignore the hints about a rejected bond and in mating bonds we trust. We also ignore all the elriel hints, and their mutual feelings. We follow the love triangle set up in the og trilogy. I don’t think Lucien could train her in anything? Maybe self defense, Idk Sarah could pull something, but I don’t see Elain leaving her circle of friends but neither do I see Lucien settling in the night court and leaving his own friends. There are no stakes but Elain’s and Lucien’s awkwardness around each other + Elain’s feelings for Azriel. Elain’s and Lucien’s plot connects though so at least there’s that, SJM could ship them off on a mission together and make them get closer. Forced proximity sort of thing. 

If gwynriel happens then = we lost the whole plot, ignored the foreshadowing and hints found in the actual book. Mentor to lovers, civil with each other. Azriel has to move on from Elain first though and that could be icky. Healing journey, more Valkyries training. So we pick up from where we left off in acosf, and we’d see Azriel trying to get her to come out of the Library, or he goes to visit her there until she agrees to come out again. Maybe if Gwyn is a lightsinger then idk more training with Azriel? Again, no stakes but Gwyn’s trauma and Azriel’s self doubt oh and also his feelings for Elain. But that’s it, Gwyn as of now does not connect to the overall plot with the troves (she’s not made therefore she can’t use them) or koschei. So I don’t see us making her go on a mission like that. I’ve seen a lot of gwynriles saying Gwyn has spy potential idk where, but she could barely keep a secret for Nesta so I highly doubt she’d be keeping secrets for the IC. 

Ps: the original koschei plot is 3 sisters marrying 3 very powerful wizards and like idk 3 sisters 3 brothers…we can have a retelling ya know 

#elriel #pro elain #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #Azriel's bonus #anti g*ynriel #anti el*cien #elain archeron #acofas #acosf

[chenfleur]

everything in you

summary. time and time again, life drags you down until you lose your senses—and time and time again, jake manages to bring you back to the surface.

pairing. jake x y/n

genre. fluff, angst

disclaimers. insecurities, implied burnout

word count. 2.6k

released. 03.19.2024

author's note. feedback is appreciated! from drafts ^_^

masterlist

There’s a crack in your wall, located a small distance above your TV.

It’s tiny and shallow, barely noticeable to anyone unless they purposefully look for it—or spend enough time staring at the wall that they’re forced to notice it. 

You noticed it for the first time last Tuesday, when you came home from work and the first thing you did was drop yourself down onto the couch.

This was a situation you found yourself in multiple times over the course of the past week: hands in your lap, mindlessly staring at nothing. There’s a thrum at the back of your head that you’ve been trying to ignore, just like all the other sensations that have manifested in your throat and lower back and the pit of your stomach.

More times than not, you sit here spacing out for hours; all the way from the time you get home to the time you feel your eyelids beginning to drop shut. Sometimes you have the energy to make a meal, but on the days that had no mercy for your peace of mind, you didn’t.

Maybe you do this to cope with stress. Maybe you do this because despite the rational part of your brain telling you that this is a form of self-sabotage, the exhausted part knows that silence—nothingness—would never betray you. It would never make you work overtime or make you worry about how others perceive you; it would only give you the peace you desire.

Today was one of those cruel days, to the point where you’d think it’s the shittiest you’ve had in a long time. You felt like you were at your breaking point, and you hate how every little inconvenience had made you want to burst into tears.

But even after you got home, you didn’t cry.

You seem to never cry, and you’re not sure if that’s a good thing. Instead of having a quick breakdown to rid yourself of strain like everyone else does, it piles up inside of your mind until utter blankness is born from the ashes of loud, rampant thoughts.

It’s what lands you here again tonight, despite never really wanting to be—staring at the line where the black of the flat-screen TV turns into the light cream of the apartment walls. There’s a mug of chamomile tea on the coffee table that you had brewed for yourself earlier, but it remains untouched, steam no longer wafting through the air.

A yawn racks through your body, bringing you back to reality after your mind had essentially been shut off for an hour and a half. Groaning loudly, you push yourself up off the couch to get ready for bed, trying your hardest not to think about how tomorrow, you’d probably have to repeat today all over again.

What you don’t expect is the sound of the front door’s lock suddenly clicking open.

It causes you to freeze, head turning to look towards the entrance.

As the door opens, a tall figure emerges through the threshold. 

There’s a black baseball cap fit securely on his head, shielding his face from view—yet, it’s someone who you can recognize instantly. Someone who you have spent hours upon hours memorizing head-to-toe.

From the expensive bomber jacket he's layered over a grey hoodie, from his favourite pair of worn-out sneakers that he refuses to throw away. From the teddy bear charm—a gift from you—that dangles from his keyring.

You stare at him for a moment, slack-jawed.

Someone who you haven’t seen in a long time and weren’t expecting to see again for a while.

“Jake?”

Shutting the door behind him with a click, a grin breaks out onto his face.

"Hi, sweetheart. What are you doing still awake?"

Someone who you haven't seen in a long time, and weren't expecting to see again for a while—and who you never realized you'd missed so much until he was finally standing in front of you again.

Hurriedly taking off his shoes and jacket, your boyfriend pads over to you. His arms slink around your waist, pulling your body into him and hugging you loosely.

Breath hitching at the contact, your own arms come up to rest on his shoulders. You can't bring yourself to fully meet his eyes; you feel like if you get a proper look at him, a dam would break loose.

For some reason, Jake just makes you want to cry your eyes out. You have the art of concealing your emotions around others perfected to a near tee but he—

God, you don't even know why.

You try so, unbelievably hard to remain strong around him, but his presence—his touch, voice, warmth—never fails to make your facade absolutely collapse.

But even though he's reassured you time and time again that it's okay to let down your defences around him, that he wants you to, you refuse.

At least not this time; most weeks, six out of seven days, Jake would let himself into your apartment as if it was his own, and the two of you would fall asleep next to each other with your limbs a mess on the mattress. But, with the group's upcoming comeback, he's been staying at the dorm to make preparations easier. It's been weeks since you've seen each other, and with each passing second you spend with him again, you realize how much you'd truly missed him.

You're confident he isn't supposed to be here right now, but you don't know when you'd see him again. You're not going to let a precious moment be spoiled by tears.

However, the universe seems to always be working against you, because just the feeling of him loosely pressed against you is making your bottom lip quiver.

A beat of silence passes. Habitually, you lean into his touch.

You feel the tip of his nose stroke your cheek affectionately. You screw your eyes shut.

"What— what are you doing here?" you ask meekly.

"Am I not welcome here?" he teases, tilting his head.

"You know you aren't supposed to be here, Jake," you chide, though it comes out as more of a plead. "I know for a fact you have early morning practices everyday, and you probably don't get off until late at night..."

You toy with the line of his hood. "The comeback is so soon. You should be at the dorm. Resting."

"When am I ever doing something I'm supposed to be doing?"

At your lack of amusement, Jake's bottom lip juts out into a pout, his arms squeezing your waist a little tighter. "It feels like it's been centuries since I've seen you, Y/N. I couldn't take it anymore," he whines softly.

"You can't tell me you haven't missed me too. I'll literally cry if you do."

A pause. "I have," you whisper. So much that you don't even know.

Jake immediately stops pouting, his eyes crinkling as a smile blooms on his face at your words. He begins to slowly rock the both of you side-to-side, body flush against yours.

"Well, what kind of a boyfriend would I be to let you miss me?" he says playfully, looking off to the side.

Raising your head for a moment, you observe his side profile. Your eyes slowly trail along the contours of his face. Drinking in each of his carefully sculpted features. A slight smile tugs at your lips.

You lean your head against his chest, exhaling when you feel him card his fingers through the locks of your hair.

"Besides," Jake begins, his voice now softer as he redirects his gaze to you. "I'm sick of living with a bunch of disgusting guys."

You scoff. "Don't lie. You love them."

He lets out a laugh, gazing at you with shining eyes. "But you're the only one I'm in love with. There's a difference, sweetheart."

Your chest constricts. You'd been so close to completely forgetting about the turmoil brewing inside of you, but Jake's admission immediately causes it to resurface, rising like bile in your throat.

This isn't what you wanted.

You know it's coming. The burning sensation in your nose is a mockery of your efforts to remain composed.

Jake's tone carries a sincerity that makes you come undone. His words carry so much weight despite flowing out of his mouth no struggle, and they cause a stronger emotion in you than any of the cruel things that have ever been thrown your way.

Maybe this is why it was so hard to not cry around Jake—because it's so easy for him to love.

Loving comes so naturally to him, and it breathes life back into you. When you don't have any to spare for yourself, he does it in your place.

Your gates had been one strike away from being beaten down completely, and Jake had done it, with love.

You hold your breath for a few seconds as a last-ditch effort to prevent your tears, but that doesn't stop the first one from falling.

And as the saying goes, "starting is the hardest part", because as soon as the first tear slips down your cheek, more rush to follow. Your vision starts to blur.

Feeling you tense in his hold, Jake's smile falters. "Hey—"

He leans back a little bit, head ducking to try and get a look at your face. "What's wrong? Y/N?"

When you refuse to make eye contact, only tucking your chin further into your chest, his being floods with concern. His hands leave your waist to cup your face, gently forcing you to look at him.

For weeks, Jake would leave the company building late at night with only the thought of seeing you again. But in those thoughts, you'd always been smiling; maybe even laughing at a funny video or a stupid joke he'd made.

Now, the sight of your tear-stricken face only has him pursing his lips together, his heart pounding against his ribcage.

Instinctually, Jake examines your face, checking to see if you're hurt anywhere. Once he deems you okay externally, he carefully brushes the skin underneath your eyes with his thumbs.

"Baby..." he whispers sadly. "What happened?"

You only shake your head, sharp breaths leaving your lips. Jake frowns, continuing to wipe away the tears that spilt from your eyes.

When you eventually raise your gaze, you're met with the sight of Jake's own eyes beginning to water. Despite your state, there's a ghost of a smile on your lips. He looks adorable.

"Why are you crying?" you breathe out weakly, letting out a soft laugh. "Don't cry~"

"Because you're crying!" he whines. His eyebrows furrow as he stares into your eyes, trying to find out what had gotten you to this point. "You can't just cry and then expect me not to!"

Pursing your lips, you look away shyly. "Jaeyun..."

Jake's eyes soften. Gently, he cups the back of your head and guides your face into the crook of his neck, stroking your back as you continue to shed tears.

"Please, tell me what's wrong," he whispers into your hair. "It kills me to see you like this."

"I hate crying," you whisper back, tone filled with regret. "I really didn't mean to."

"No, no, baby," Jake shushes, shaking his head vehemently. "That's not what I meant. Hey, look at me," he coaxes, bringing your face up to look him in the eyes.

"What I meant was I don't like to see you hurting. You can cry, baby. I'll be here to wipe every one of your tears," he says, chuckling.

A single tear travels down the length of his face. You bring a hand up to wipe it away. Jake doesn't move, watching you with a soft gaze.

"Let go. I'd rather you cry than bury it all inside." His hand comes up to stroke your hair. "I promise you that crying doesn't make you weak or make me love you any less than when you're smiling."

So for once, you cry. Dumping every one of your emotions out onto the fabric of his hoodie. He holds you securely as you do, hands rubbing circles on your hips.

"I'm so tired," you suddenly croak out.

For a second, fear freezes the blood in Jake's veins. His voice is shaky as he asks, "O-of what? Us?"

Your face flashes with horror. You frantically shake your head, pushing yourself back to look at him.

"No!" you blurt, cupping his face. "No— oh my god, never. You're— we're—"

You exhale shakily. "We're great. We are everything to me."

One of his hands comes up to cover yours. "What's going on, baby?"

"It just feels like I'm... broken."

Jake's breath hitches, another tear slipping down his cheek to his chin. He doesn't say anything, prompting you to keep going with a tap to your side.

You delicately wipe the tear away, leaning up to press a firm kiss on his cheek before continuing.

"I feel so— so incompetent. Like I'll never be good enough at my job, or for the people at my job, or really anyone around me, for that matter."

A pause. "No matter how much time and energy I dedicate to something, nothing ever goes right. And nothing ever will go right because there's something wrong with me."

Silence hangs over the two of you, your ragged breathing and his soft sniffles intertwining in a sorrowful melody. Jake's brain is moving at a million miles a minute, grasping to think of what to do—to make you see yourself the way he sees you.

"Sweetheart," he begins, picking each of his words deliberately. "Listen to me carefully, alright?"

"You are not incompetent. In fact, you're so much more than just competent at what you do, to the people around you... everything. I wish you had my brain instead of yours. Yours is so mean to you," he murmurs with a click of his tongue.

"If you had mine, you'd see how incredible you are at what you do, to the people around you, everything. Because that's what I see, Y/N. I see everything in you."

You groan, hands reaching up to cover your face as heat flushes your cheeks. "Oh my god..."

Laughing, Jake tries to pry at your hands. When he succeeds, he looks deep into your eyes, gaze never wavering. You think you'd have crumbled to the floor by now if he wasn't here to hold you up.

"Did you mean it?" he whispers, breath fanning against your skin.

"Hm?"

"When you said that nothing you dedicate your effort to ever goes right."

You grimace. "That's what it feels like..."

"Even us?"

Oh. "Jaeyun—"

"Shhh, I was kidding. I know that's not what you meant," Jake coos, the groan that leaves you making him smile. He gently brushes a strand of hair out of your face before tilting his head and softly capturing your lips in his. Your eyes flutter shut, melting into his hold.

"You're strong, okay?" He whispers against your lips when you break away. "You're stronger than anyone I know."

Jake doesn't make any move to let you go. He wants his reassurances to travel through every part of your body, until you become so familiar with them that they'd never be a subject of your questioning.

"You aren't broken. I won't let you be."

The feeling of his skin against yours grounds you. In the foyer of your quiet apartment at one in the morning, it makes you feel alive.

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen oneshots #enhypen drabbles #enhypen jake #jake sim #sim jaeyun #jake x reader #jake fluff #jake imagines #jake scenarios

[obeymematches]

♡How to keep Satan obsessed♡

Yall been liking my posts from 2021 and it reminded me that i started doing this series-

● Okay the worst thing you can do is try to control him. Tell him what to do and how to do it and that's the last straw before he loses interest. Yes he is very independent and he loves his freedom. Telling him to "text/call when you get there" is also more negative than positive.

● Regarding independence, he also prefers you being your own person, not really depending on him. See you don't have to be a houseowner, you don't have to ask him for permission to spend time together, that's not what I mean, but if you center your life around him he is going to feel overwhelmed.

● He also has a hard time tolerating jealousy. Aren't you grown? Don't you trust him? Why do you have to make a fuss? You are supposed to know him better than this. He would never cheat on you even if his hands are forced to. He doesn't like anyone so if he likes you; you are supposed to feel special & not attack him with things that didn't even happen. Peak stupidity in his eyes.

● Pretending to listen to him but not actually paying attention; instead of that just tell him you don't care, something else is occupying your mind right now and he is being too much. That sounds rude but it is still better than him wasting his breath. He gladly comforts you if you are actually upset; or if you just genuinely don't care it's better that he knows.

● Keep your interactions with people he dislikes to the bare minimum. It might be better for his soul to heal and make peace in the long run - but you are not supposed to force him! You have nothing to do with his beef in any of the cases. Let him be his own man in his own pace. He might never forgive someone and that's also ok! Don't try to change him; but if he needs it be there to support him!

● With him you'll need good communication skills. Being passive aggressive turns him off quickly. Don't even think of the silent treatment. He'll just break up then and there. If you are upset with him/anything and need to be left alone to think for a while, just tell him exactly that! Good communication also includes telling him with your own words that you love and appreciate him! Makes him feel confident! Reassurance is always a good point!

● He definitely enjoys well-thought-of surprises. It could be a handmade gift, doesn't have to be anything extravagant. Just spoil him from time to time, it really does make him feel appreciated!

● idk how to put this but i think he doesn't like horoscopes and crystals as he is trying to be the most rational person to ever exist, so he doesn't like topics like these at all. Personality types are on thin ice also. It's not a total turn-off for him but if you base your entire life around these things he is not going to be interested for long.

● I think it is obvious but he likes his partner to have opinion on lots of things. Hold a proper conversation about intellectual stuff. You don't have to have ambitions or things to achieve in life but if you usually reply "i dunno about that", "never-ever heard of it", that's not gonna end well.

●Yes he is introverted but that doesn't mean he sits at home 24/7 - sometimes he loves going to places, doing and experiencing life, and if he constantly has to nag you to go on a date he is going to get bored fast. It's OK if sometimes you'd rather stay in, don't get me wrong, but literally never going anywhere/only going if he argues about it, is a red flag.

#obey me #obey me satan #obey me swd #obey me! #obey me shall we date #obey me satan x mc #obey me satan x you #obey me satan x reader #satan obey me #obey me hc #obey me hcs #swd obey me #omswd #omswd satan