#body better mp

[bybyefromurgirlodam]

“Did I just not do it for you, superficially?”

“If you love her Was I just an idea you liked? A convenient use of time With obedient blue eyes”

“I thought it would be us for life Was I wrong and is she so right?”

“The worst way to love somebody is to watch them love somebody else and it work out ... Has she got a body better than mine?”

Body Better / Track 4 / Maisie Peters

[lyric-changeswithleia]

Body Better / Maisie Peters

“Has she got a body better than mine?

I can't help thinking when you touched it, were you sorry?

—I mean sorry like you weren't at the time?”

[southfarthing]

ABOVE ALL SHADOWS RIDES THE SUN LITERALYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!

[cumulativechaos]

having a body that requires maintenance and upkeep is so fucking annoying tho

[ursomucholderandwiserandi]

i know this is a swiftie blog but I just want to say how much i ADORE lyric parallels between Taylor and Maisie Peters

the moment I knew 🤝 birthday

I heart ? 🤝 lost the breakup

[hypermania]

it’s really unfortunate to be both a person who requires a lot of medication and a person who is very sensitive to medication

[ja3yun]

Melting Point | Bonus Chapter

ice skater!sunghoon x gf!reader warnings: smut (mdni), oral (f.rec), pussy muncher hoon is back, unprotected sex, very bad descriptions about ice skating, cheesy and wholesome (not sorry one bit), not proofread, if i missed any lmk! w.c: 12k synopsis: with sunghoon and minhee competing at the winter olympics, you're in the most romantic city in the world. your nerves are strung high for both of them but your boyfriend has a surprise once everything is said and done. masterlist** a/n: hi! my melting point lovers, this is for you and only you! i hit 4k followers on this blog and i thought, what better way than give my lovely people a bc of the fic that got me my first 1k followers! plus, i missed them like crazy and i felt like this was a nice wrap to their story. as always, comments, feedback, reblogs and likes are all welcome.

** if you haven't read mp then this will probably not make sense to you but if you really wanted to, you could read it as a stand alone. this is also dedicated to 🌊 anon bc no one loves mp quite like them 🙏🏻

Kicking your feet, you sit at the edge of the hotel bed, watching your boyfriend pack the last few costume pieces into his gym bag. He looks so pretty in front of you; his dark hair is freshly cut but still long enough that some of his fringe dangles in front of his face. His body is strong and dependable, just like always, and his concentrated look adds cuteness to him despite his typical handsome charm. 

The room is filled with the quiet rustle of fabric and the faint scent of his cologne, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. Your heart swells with affection as you watch him, every detail etching itself into your memory - the ripple of his muscles under his shirt, the furrow of his brows, and the gentle way he handles even the most delicate pieces. 

"I miss you," you blurt out, the words slipping past your lips before you can stop them.

Sunghoon stops packing and looks up, his thick eyebrows raised in confusion. "Sweets, I'm standing right in front of you," he says, pointing to himself with a puzzled expression and a small, amused smile playing on his lips.

“I know, but we’ve hardly seen each other,” you begin, rising from the bed and approaching him with a slight pout. “We’ve been in the most romantic city in the world for the past four days, and I’ve seen you for a collective twenty minutes.”

Chuckling softly, Sunghoon shakes his head. “I mean, I am competing at the Olympics. That kinda requires my attention,” he explains, though the playful glint in his eyes betrays the lightness of his tone.

“I require your attention,” you counter, sulking slightly, though you’re aware of the unfairness in your complaint. He’s been relentlessly training for the biggest and final skate of his professional career, and here you are, feeling neglected because he is rightfully busy. You should be cheering him on and savouring every moment you get to spend together, especially since the competition is this afternoon.

Despite your unreasonable grumbling, Sunghoon's expression remains warm and understanding. With a gentle sigh, he pulls you into his embrace, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and resting your head against his chest. You can feel the rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat and the slight rumble of laughter he’s holding back, a comforting vibration against your ear.

"Paris isn’t all that anyway. I mean, what is there to see anyway? Nice restaurants? The Louvre? The Wall of I Love You? Sounds awful if you ask me." The sarcasm in his voice is dripping with humour, each word teasing you softly.

You lift your head to look up at him, unable to suppress a smile at his exaggerated complaints. His eyes, filled with a mix of affection and mischief, meet yours. “You’re impossible,” you say, shaking your head but feeling your heart lighten.

Sunghoon leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “And you’re my favourite distraction,” he murmurs, his breath warm and reassuring against your skin. “But I promise, Sweets, after this competition, we’ll have all the time in the world to explore Paris. And I’ll make sure to give you all the attention you deserve.”

His eyes gleam with the love he always shows you, but there’s a subtle shadow of uncertainty behind them. Though you haven’t been able to spend much time together since arriving, you’ve been by his side for months leading up to this moment. You understand how much this means to him.

Sunghoon’s training for this prestigious event has been nothing short of gruelling. Hours upon hours spent perfecting his routines, pushing his body to its limits, and honing his skills have left little room for anything else. It was his decision to leave the competitive world of figure skating after the Winter Olympics, shifting his focus to coaching and leading a less hectic life - a choice he is content with. However, this final performance carries immense weight, and the pressure is almost suffocating. Once it’s over, he can finally breathe, but for now, his lungs and heart are trapped in a cage of nerves and anticipation.

“How are you feeling about it?” you ask softly, pressing gentle kisses over his heart, hoping to soothe the tension you know is building inside him.

“Fine,” he replies, but the tightness in his voice betrays him.

You give him a pointed stare, silently urging him to be honest with you. His facade crumbles, and he lets out a heavy sigh, nodding reluctantly. “Shitting myself. If I fuck up, I don’t have a chance to redeem myself. This is what I’ll be known for forever.”

The weight of this final performance hangs heavily on Sunghoon’s shoulders. The relentless drive to be perfect, to deliver a flawless routine, feels almost unbearable. The thought of a single misstep, a minor flaw, is paralysing. He knows that in the world of figure skating, this performance will be his legacy. The pressure to be remembered as a champion, to leave the ice with no regrets, is a relentless force pressing down on him. His heart races at the mere thought of stepping onto the ice, every nerve in his body taut with the anticipation of the moment that could define his career.

“Hey,” you say softly, cupping his face in your hands and forcing him to meet your gaze. “You’ve already proven yourself time and time again. No matter what happens, you’ve achieved so much. I believe in you, and everyone who loves you believes in you too.”

He shakes his head, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. “It’s not just about what I’ve done. It’s about how I finish. Everyone remembers the ending, and if I screw this up...”

“You won’t screw it up,” you interrupt gently. “You’ve worked so hard for this. You’re more prepared than anyone else out there.”

“But what if I’m not?” he asks, his voice trembling slightly. “What if I stumble, or fall, or miss a beat? This is my last chance to get it right. There are no do-overs.”

You tighten your hold on his face, bringing his forehead to rest against yours. “Listen to me, Sunghoon. You’re human. Perfection isn’t the goal, that is still the lingering words of your mum talking; it’s about doing your best and knowing you gave it everything you had. You’ve done that already. You’ve pushed beyond limits, and you’ve inspired so many people, including me.”

He closes his eyes, absorbing your words. “I’m so scared,” he admits, his vulnerability laid bare. “What if it’s not enough?”

“It is enough,” you say firmly. “You are enough. And no matter what happens, I’ll be right here, proud of you. Always.”

It’s not often you see your boyfriend doubt himself like this, not since his mum has been out of the picture and he has actually started to enjoy skating again. But you can understand why he is so nervous and self-diminishing his abilities. This is the Olympics, something that he has been dreaming about since he was a little boy. That would put a weight on anyone’s shoulder never mind it being the definitive.

You lean up and press a tender kiss to his lips, pouring all your love and reassurance into the gesture. He kisses you back, his grip on you tightening as if drawing strength from your unwavering support. When you pull back, you see a flicker of resolve in his eyes, a reminder of why he’s made it this far.

Sunghoon’s expression softens, a gentle smile spreading across his face. He nuzzles his nose against yours, a sweet and intimate gesture that makes your heart flutter. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmurs, his eyes glistening with affection as they lock onto yours.

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, feeling a wave of warmth envelop you. “Well, good thing you don’t have to find out,” you reply, your voice laced with both tenderness and playful teasing.

He pulls you closer, his arms encircling you in a protective embrace, his fingers digging gently into your t-shirt. “I love you,” he whispers, his breath warm and comforting against your ear. “So freaking much, Sweets.”

“I love you too,” you murmur back, letting the words settle between you like a shared secret.

Sunghoon’s smirk suddenly makes an appearance, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Alright, but seriously,” he says, leaning back slightly to meet your gaze with a teasing glint. “Who are you rooting for to win? Me or Minhee?”

The question catches you off guard, and you blink at him in surprise. “I’m rooting for both of you, obviously!” you protest, your tone a mix of exasperation and disbelief.

Sunghoon arches an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Come on, Sweets. Let’s say the stakes are higher. Gun to your head, who takes the top podium: me or Minhee?”

You let out an exasperated sigh, swatting at his chest playfully. “You’re ridiculous, you know that? Minhee is my brother but also my client. It’s literally in my job description to root for him!”

Sunghoon chuckles, the sound resonating deeply from his chest, warm and infectious. “So, what you’re saying is, if it weren’t for your job, you’d be rooting for me?”

You roll your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips despite your best efforts to stay serious. “None of you will let this rivalry go, huh? It’s like you both live for these little competitions till this day.”

Shrugging, Sunghoon picks up his bag, slinging it effortlessly across his shoulder. "Old habits die hard," he replies, a sly twinkle in his eye. He reaches out and pinches your cheek gently, his touch light but affectionate. “But I’ll just say you want me to win.”

As you open your mouth to retaliate and defend yourself, he leans in and plants a quick, playful kiss on your nose. The unexpected touch makes your face flush with a delightful mix of embarrassment and affection. You blink up at him, momentarily disarmed by his endearing gesture.

Sunghoon’s grin widens, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Gotta go,” he says, stepping back with a playful wink. “Remember, I’m competing right after Minhee, so try to stick around that area so I can see you. Can’t win without my good luck charm rinkside.”

He makes his way toward the hotel door, his confident stride carrying him with an air of excitement. Just before he exits, he glances back over his shoulder, his eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and warmth. “I love you, Sweets.”

“I love you more, Hoon.”

_____

The moment Sunghoon walks into the changing room, he is hit by a mix of heat, sweat, and deodorant. It’s not like he isn’t used to it, every sports locker room is the same, even when he used to share it with the hockey boys at the Albion. Sunghoon is a particularly clean person, however, so the sight and scent are still disgusting to his senses.

What is a sight for sore eyes though, is his best friend Minhee sitting under his assigned peg as he ties the laces of his black, shiny skates, his facial expression serious though the task is mundane and easy to carry out. 

That’s the thing about competition day, everything is charged to 100 and even the simplest of actions can feel like a monument. And since this has been Minhee’s ambition - even competing at the Olympics never mind winning - he is feeling the pressure like he is a car under a compressor, two seconds away from being crushed scraps and thrown into the heap with the rest of the junk.

Despite that, when he hears someone approaching, he looks up to see his rival-turned-friend-turned-rival for one last day and plasters a smile on his face, hiding the tension in his frame.

“Hey, Hoon,” he greets simply, straightening up to look at him, squinting his eye slightly at the overhead light casting a heavenly glow around the skater. He doesn’t know what watt they have in Paris bulbs but he sure as hell misses the dullness of the Belmore, never complaining about the flickering yellow and burnt bulbs again.

Returning his smile, Sunghoon sits beside him, clasping a hand onto the boy's shoulder and rubbing it slightly, emitting a similar feeling to a brief massage. “Hey, Min.” 

“How is my lover this morning?” Minhee winks, enjoying the relief from Sunghoon’s hand. He knew he should have taken up the offer for Wonyoung to give him a full body massage, but he didn’t want to get too loose, or the real reason, fuck her until his alarm blared cruelly in the morning.

Shaking his head, Sunghoon retrieves his hand and sighs, running it lazily through his locks. “Shitting a brick, to be honest. You?”

Spitting out a laugh, your brother nods. “Same. Once this is over do you want to get into construction? I’m shitting enough bricks to build a mansion.”

The sarcastic notion allows Sunghoon to relax and laugh alongside his buddy, the air a little lighter with the ease of the conversation. For Sunghoon, growing up with no friends in this field meant he only had his mum to confide in, who wouldn’t even let him air his worries, stating that it created a negative mindset and would ruin his chances. So having Minhee by his side is a welcomed change.

Your brother and boyfriend have gotten so close since Nationals that you have practically become the third wheel when they are together. You understand, though; as much as you love and empathise with the gruelling training and pressure, you will never understand them the way they do one another. 

And with Minhee now crazily in love with not only your boyfriend but his girlfriend Wonyoung, it means you get to spend time with her too.  She’s been teaching you how to skate and sharing insights from her own experience managing herself, which has been incredibly helpful for your role as Minhee’s manager. You love having her around, and double dates have become some of the highlights of your life.

Unzipping his duffle, Sunghoon begins to retrieve his handmade costume, looking at it with unfiltered awe. Rina outdid herself this time, the black sheer top with black and red gemstones splattered over it in the shape of a deconstructed heart fits perfectly with his heartbreak-themed performance. You had come up with the idea to skate to a song that signifies farewell but nothing obvious like Adele or Lewis Capaldi, something that people would remember. Eventually, after listening to hours of playlists curated on Spotify, some named after ex-lovers or ‘songs to get over One Direction too’, he finally settled upon Porter Robinson’s Goodbye to a World. It’s not what he is used to, the electronic track a stark contrast to his usual melodic symphonies, but with the song signifying a bittersweet end that promises brighter days ahead, he couldn’t think of a better song.

Once your best friend and Sunghoon’s self-proclaimed stylist heard the song, she came up with this jewelled masterpiece. She felt heartache with a slice of redemption in the lyrics, hence, the heart isn’t broken or whole, it is simply there to feel how it wants to as it trails up his side and over his chest.

Minhee glances over at the top and smiles brightly. “Looks good, man. I’m going to steal her once you retire,” he jokes, but there’s a hint of seriousness in his eyes. He had already messaged Rina the moment he found out she was the one who designed the famous blue National outfit.

“I’m sure she’ll be more than willing,” Sunghoon replies fondly, hooking the top behind him. “She’s changing her final project to costume design. You can be her model. Just be prepared to give her some freebies from those new brand deals you have.”

Ever since you became Minhee’s manager, you’ve done a far better job than your mom did in her 15-plus years of managing him. Brands lined up at the door as soon as Nationals were over, eager to partner with Korea’s number one skater. The initial wave of attention was overwhelming. Your first day on the job was filled with countless emails about potential sponsors and multiple love letters asking you to play matchmaker.

But you made it clear to Minhee that these decisions were his to make. After years of your mom forcing him into deals he didn’t care about for quick cash, you insisted that he choose the ones he genuinely wanted, and you would handle the details. Being the brother you know and love, the first sponsor he accepted was Aston Martin. The promise of a new car to impress Wonyoung was too tempting to resist.

Laughing, Minhee nods in agreeance to Sunghoon’s statement, already planning to steal some cosmetics from the Black Rouge shoot he has in two weeks. 

Finishing up his laces, your brother stands and checks the stability of his skates, wobbling back and forth a few times. “I can’t believe we need to get dressed and everything just to wait around for hours,” he complains, thinking about the long wait ahead. The pair have at least 5 hours to wait before they can even take to the ice, and with no practice rink like the Nationals, it’s a waiting game.

“I know,” Sunghoon agrees, beginning to get changed, discarding his casual clothes. “Y/N was hinting at spending some time together this morning. I felt so bad leaving her when I could have taken her to that La Bossue cafe she was talking about on the plane here,” he says regrettably, sleeking his black slacks on.

If anyone understands, it’s Minhee. This is his and Wonyoung’s first holiday together, even though they’re both competing. He wants to spend time sightseeing and kissing her outside Sacré-Coeur Basilica.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he picks up one of Sunghoon’s skates and starts unhooking the strings. This is a trust that had to be rebuilt, especially after what happened between them, but it’s a gesture Minhee likes to do as a constant apology for his previous actions.

“How is my Bubs anyway?” Minhee asks, referring to you. Your absence when he woke up this morning meant he hadn’t seen you yet. It’s not very professional from a client-manager perspective, considering this is the biggest skate of his life, but he’ll let it slide since Sunghoon probably needs your presence more right now.

“Adorably clingy and beautiful as always,” Sunghoon replies, his tone filled with adoration as he recalls your pout when he said goodbye this morning.

The love painted on Sunghoon’s face makes Minhee’s expression fall into fake annoyance. The older skater pretends to gag, a running bit he does whenever you and your boyfriend get a bit too mushy for his liking.

Once Sunghoon has his sparkly costume fully on, he notices Minhee’s antics and rolls his eyes. “Oh, get over it, Min. We’ve been together for over half a year now,” he smirks, snatching his skate from Minhee.

“Don’t I know it? I’ve been stuck watching you both eat each other’s faces for the past four months,” Minhee grimaces in disgust.

“Well, I hope you haven’t been watching me eat your sis-”

“Right, that’s my cue to get the fuck out of here,” Minhee interrupts, raising his hands in mock surrender. The playful banter and easy camaraderie between the two skaters are a testament to how far they’ve come. Sunghoon's laughter fills the room, rich and genuine, a sound that brings warmth to the moment.

“I’ll meet you out there, save me a seat,” Sunghoon says, settling back onto the bench to lace up his skates. His fingers move with practised precision, threading the laces through the eyelets with ease. He glances up briefly, his eyes meeting Minhee’s, a silent communication of mutual respect and friendship.

Minhee pauses at the door, turning back with a mischievous grin. “Do you want anything from catering?” he asks, his eyebrows quirking in a playful challenge.

Sunghoon’s response is immediate. “Yeah, grab me a chocolate muffin.”

Minhee’s expression shifts to one of exaggerated horror, his eyes widening theatrically. “The ones Henrik guards with his life? You want me to die?”

A smirk tugs at the corners of Sunghoon’s mouth, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Minhee laughs a deep, infectious sound. “Give me a kiss and I’ll think about it,” he teases, leaning in with puckered lips, his face comically close to Sunghoon’s.

Sunghoon pushes him away with a playful shove, shaking his head in mock exasperation. “Get out of here, you idiot,” he chuckles, his tone filled with affectionate humour.

Minhee backs away, still laughing. “Alright, alright. I’ll see what I can do about that muffin. But if Henrik comes after me, I’m blaming you,” he says, pointing a finger at Sunghoon before disappearing out the door.

Sunghoon finishes lacing his skates, a fond smile lingering on his lips. Talking with his friend like this has helped ease some of the lingering apprehension and doubts in his mind. If Minhee can remain calm, or at least fake it, when this skate means just as much to him, then Sunghoon can do it too.

He’s going to make everyone proud out there, especially himself.

_____

You stand nervously next to Minhee, holding his hand impossibly tight as you both await his first Olympic skate. Honestly, you might be more nervous than him. For months, you have watched him batter and bruise his body attempting to perfect the hardest move in his routine—the Quadruple Lutz.

At Nationals, Minhee did the impossible and landed a quadruple Axel, a feat almost unheard of in figure skating. The moment was surreal, the entire arena holding its breath as he launched himself into the air, his body spinning at a dizzying speed. For what seemed like an eternity, he hung in the air, a blur of motion and grace. When his blades touched down on the ice with a clean, precise landing, the crowd erupted into a deafening roar. It was his greatest achievement, a moment of sheer perfection that few skaters ever reach.

Despite this triumph, Minhee knew better than to put his faith in landing it again at the Olympics. The stakes were higher, the judges more stringent, and any minor mistake could cost him dearly. The fluidity and overall performance were crucial here, and a fall on such a difficult jump could overshadow the rest of his routine. Instead, he had decided to go with the Quadruple Lutz—a move that, while safer than the quadruple Axel, was still incredibly challenging and demanding.

For months, he has landed on his ass, the echoes of his chosen song "Home" by Daughter becoming his laughing track until finally, he was able to do it with some ease. Minhee has a habit of getting his blade caught in the toe before launching, a flaw that Coach Kim has grilled him over time and time again because it is a stupid mistake that can easily be remedied.

That is what is weighing him down. He feels confident in his routine, but that one slip could be the difference between standing on a podium and leaving with his tail between his legs. Resting your head on his shoulder, you offer silent encouragement as you see one of the coordinators come over, signalling that it's almost time.

"Minhee," you whisper softly, lifting your head to meet his eyes. "I believe in you. You've worked so hard for this, and you've overcome so much. No matter what happens out there, you’re already a champion in my eyes.”

He turns his head slightly to look at you, his eyes reflecting a mix of nerves and gratitude. "Thanks, Bubs. That means a lot," he murmurs, a small, appreciative smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You squeeze his hand gently, your thumb brushing reassuringly over his knuckles. "Remember, it’s not just about the jumps. It’s about the story you tell out there. Skate like you’re sharing a piece of your heart with everyone watching. And if you get nervous, just think of Wonyoung and me cheering you on. We’re with you every step of the way."

“Y/N, you’re not gunning for my job too are you?” Coach Kim interjects with a teasing tone, poking his head from behind Minhee. You were so wrapped up in nerves you almost forgot he was there. “She’s right though, Min, performance is key here, if you think you can’t do any of the jumps, substitute it and we’ll take the deductions. They will be less than if you crash.”

Minhee takes a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He nods, a determined glint returning to his eyes. "I don’t need to sub, I can do everything,” he replies with arrogance but you can see the tremble in his chin as he speaks, nerves seeking their way out of his body in any way they can.

“You have been spending far too much time with Park, your cockiness is extra heightened.” Coach Kim slaps him on the back, touch lingering there for added assurance. If anyone believes in him as much as you do, it’s Coach.

The coordinator gives the final signal, and Minhee stands up, releasing your hand but not before giving it one last, firm squeeze. "See you on the other side, Bubs," he says with a wink, trying to infuse some lightness into the moment.

You watch as he heads towards the rink, feeling a mix of pride and anticipation. "Go get em’, Mini," you whisper under your breath, knowing that whatever happens, Minhee is ready to give it his all.

He steps onto the ice, and the world narrows down to the crisp sound of his skates carving through the surface and the soft, haunting melody of his chosen song filling the arena. The starting pose is simple yet powerful: Minhee stands tall and poised at the centre of the rink, his back straight and his gaze distant. His arms are extended slightly, creating a frame of elegance around him. The music begins softly, and he closes his eyes for a brief moment, drawing in the calm before the storm.

As the music swells, Minhee starts his program with a series of intricate footwork sequences. His movements are fluid and precise, every step and turn executed with grace. His body flows seamlessly from one movement to the next, the choreography reflecting a deep, emotive connection with the music. The audience is captivated by the narrative unfolding on the ice—a story told through every glide, spin, and leap.

Minhee’s first major element is a series of spins, beginning with a fast, clean camel spin. He transitions into a sit spin, his body folding gracefully as he maintains a steady, controlled rotation. The audience watches in awe as he moves effortlessly between the spins, his form perfect and his speed unbroken.

The anticipation builds as he nears the pivotal moment of his routine - the quadruple lutz. Minhee takes a deep breath, his focus sharpening as he glides toward the takeoff point.

He picks up speed, his skates slicing through the ice with powerful, rhythmic strides. As he approaches the takeoff, you can see the concentration etched on his face. The quadruple lutz requires a precise and powerful launch, and Minhee’s years of hard work have led him to this moment. He performs a deep, smooth edge before leaping into the air.

From your vantage point, the moment feels almost surreal. You can see the determination and the slight tension in his body as he completes each rotation. His landing will determine the success of this routine. As he descends, his blades graze the ice with a delicate touch. You watch with bated breath, the entire arena silent, waiting for the impact.

He lands the jump cleanly, his body absorbing the impact with a controlled grace. There is a brief pause as he glides out of the jump, his movements smooth and confident. The audience erupts into gentle applause, filling the arena. Minhee’s face lights up with a mix of relief and elation, his eyes briefly searching the crowd for a glimpse of familiar faces.

When he comes across yours, a blur due to the rapidness of your jumping, he knows he’s done enough to make you proud, which wouldn’t be hard, but it’s nice to see you buzzing with glee now that he has successfully landed his hardest move, giving him enough confidence to finish his performance with intentional but relaxed tension.

As the music reaches its climax, Minhee performs a series of intricate step sequences, his footwork sharp and precise. His movements are quick and expressive, reflecting the emotional high point of the routine. He concludes with a final pose - his arms extended, his body arching gracefully as he holds the position for a heartbeat before the music fades.

The final note lingers in the air as Minhee holds his ending pose. The arena is a sea of applause and cheers, and Minhee takes a moment to soak in the overwhelming response. He smiles, a mixture of relief and pride evident in his expression, as he skates to the edge of the rink to greet his coach and the one person who has been by his side every step of this journey.

You watch with tears of joy in your eyes as Minhee glides toward you, his performance complete. The routine has been a triumph, a testament to his dedication and skill. Whatever the final score, you know that this moment will be remembered as a defining achievement in his career. After all, he had just performed a flawless routine at the Winter Olympics.

Minhee approaches the side of the rink and his face reflects a mix of relief and exhilaration. He bends down to carefully slip on his protective blades. The clinking sound of the skates against the ice seems to punctuate the end of his extraordinary performance. Once he's secured his blades, he makes his way toward you, his steps light but purposeful.

Without a word, you rush forward and envelop him in a tight, joyous hug. The embrace is fierce and full of unspoken pride and admiration. Minhee’s arms encircle you, holding you close as he buries his face in your shoulder. For a moment, the world around you fades away, and it’s just the two of you, wrapped in a cocoon of shared triumph and emotional release.

When you finally pull back, you can see the glistening in Minhee’s eyes, his smile wider than you’ve ever seen. “You were incredible,” you whisper, brushing a stray tear from your cheek.

He grins, his eyes sparkling with happiness. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Bubs.”

“Sure you could have, you’re the Kang Minhee after all.”

“Who is nothing without the Kang Y/N,” he retorts, ruffling your hair playfully as the emotions in his body swirl and threaten to overflow through his eyes. But he holds it together, knowing that he still has to wait for the score, easily the most nervewracking part.

As the scores are about to be announced, you both sit with Coach Kim in the waiting area, hearts racing in unison. The scoreboard flickers to life, and the crowd holds its collective breath. The numbers slowly come into focus, each digit reflecting the culmination of months of hard work and dedication.

You glance at Minhee, who is watching the scoreboard with a mix of hope and anxiety. The realisation that he has done everything he possibly could, that his performance was nothing short of spectacular, brings a surge of pride and love.

The first number flashes, followed by another, and then the total score is revealed: '324.60'. The audience erupts into a thunderous roar, and you can barely contain your excitement. Minhee’s face lights up with an ecstatic grin as he takes in the numbers, a little dumbfounded to believe it.

Your eyes quickly scan the leaderboard, and you see the name Yuga Kagiyama at the top. The Japanese skater has posted an even higher score, placing him just ahead of Minhee. But Minhee’s score is nothing short of extraordinary, putting him in a close second place. The competition is fierce, but Minhee’s performance has clearly made a significant impact, and with only Sunghoon and one other skater to take to the ice, his chances of snagging an Olympic medal are high.

“You did it, Minhee!” you exclaim, hugging him tightly again, overwhelmed with pride. Your brother is about to be an Olympic medalist, something you have heard him go on and on about since you were little, and here he is achieving it with you by his side.

You and Minhee embrace, the weight of the moment sinking in. Your eyes brim with tears of joy as you hold your brother, feeling his heart pounding against yours. Coach Kim wraps an arm around both of you, his normally stern face softened by pride and emotion. The three of you stand there, on a small triumphant island amid the chaos of the cheering crowd.

Coach Kim gives Minhee a shining smile, his voice thick with emotion. "You've worked hard for this moment, Minhee. This is your victory. You've earned it with every drop of sweat and every ounce of effort."

Thankful, Minhee puts his hand on Coach Kim’s shoulder and sighs a final breath of relief, happy to have the pressure off his shoulders. "We did it, Coach," he murmurs, a smile playing on his lips. Coach Kim nods, giving Minhee a firm pat on the back, his pride evident.

After a few more moments of celebration, officials signal that it's time to move. As you're escorted towards the exit, Minhee suddenly stops and jerks his head back towards the rink.

"Sunghoon is on next," he says urgently, his eyes locking onto yours. "He’d want you there. Go be by his side."

You hesitate, looking around. "But they won't let me since I'm not part of his team." The rule is that only managers and coaches can be at the rinkside to see off and greet their skaters, and since you are none of those things, the chances of you being able to sneak back and be there for him are slim.

Minhee shakes his head, determined. "He's only got Coach Lee, trust me, he needs you there with your disgusting puppy love eyes to give him support," Minhee jokes, pushing you back the way.

You laugh despite your nerves, touched by Minhee’s playful yet sincere encouragement. "Alright, alright, I'm going!" You rush back towards the rinkside, heart pounding with a mix of excitement and anxiety. The official looks puzzled as you approach, but you quickly explain, "My boyfriend, Sunghoon, he’s on next and it’s his last ever skate before retirement and if I’m not there by his side I would be such a shit girlfriend and he would never forgive me and we would break up and then you would be responsible." 

The words tumble out your mouth at record-breaking speed, hearing the announcer already calling out your boyfriend’s name through the tannoys. You don’t mean to guilt trip the poor girl but you’re desperate and couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t try. Either this works or you will throw a tantrum until she has no choice.

Luckily, The official nods quite willingly, allowing you through. “If anyone asks, I never let you by,” she whispers in a thick Parisian accent, stepping aside to let you bolt through. With a quick thank you, you weave through the throngs of cameramen and other personnel to find Coach Lee standing with his arms crossed and face serious.

Once he sees you, his expression lightens, and he tucks you in under his arm. "Glad you made it, Kiddo," he says, his voice low. "He'll be happy to see you here. Give him an extra boost."

Sunghoon glides onto the ice, his face a perfect blend of focus and determination. The music begins, his ears infiltrated with the electronic beats as he hears every word, ready to skate his last competition and start a new life, one where you are his main focus and not the ice.

Sunghoon starts with a series of fluid crossovers, gaining speed before launching into a triple axel, landing perfectly with barely a sound on the ice. The crowd gasps and then applauds, already captivated. Without missing a beat, he transitions into a combination spin, showcasing his flexibility and control, his body a blur of movement. He looks regal out there, the gems from his top catching the light and adding another layer of beauty to it.

As the music swells, Sunghoon prepares for his next big element - a quadruple toe loop. This was difficult for him, something Coach Lee had suggested as his power move, which he spent forever perfecting, both in the rink and out. For a few weeks, he even attempted it on a trampoline to get the projection right. He was so dedicated to making this work that you feel his nerves bouncing off each glide on the ice and straight to your chest.

You hold your breath, watching as he launches into the air, rotating four times with precision before landing smoothly, his blades slicing the ice like a whisper. You resist the urge to cheer loudly, knowing it can throw him off, so instead, you settle for the audience etiquette of light applause.

He moves into a complex footwork sequence, his feet dancing in intricate patterns across the ice, each step perfectly synchronized with the music. His expression is intense, every movement telling a story of passion and struggle, triumph and heartache, beginning and end.

The middle of his routine is marked by a stunning triple lutz-triple loop combination, each jump executed with flawless technique. His body seems to defy gravity, hanging in the air for what feels like an eternity before descending gracefully back to the ice.

Sunghoon's artistry shines in the next segment, a series of choreographic elements that flow seamlessly, his arms and upper body movements expressive and emotive. He glides across the ice in deep edges, his body language conveying the emotion of the music, drawing the audience deeper into his performance.

As the final crescendo of the music approaches, he gears up for his closing element, a breathtaking quadruple salchow. He takes a deep breath, pushes off, and flies into the air, rotating perfectly before landing with strength and grace. The audience erupts in applause, unable to contain their awe at the sheer perfection of his routine.

Sunghoon finishes his performance with a dramatic final pose, the music reaching its climactic end as he holds the position, his chest heaving with effort. The arena is filled with the sound of thunderous applause and cheers, the crowd on their feet in a standing ovation.

He bows deeply to the audience, his face flushed with exhilaration. When he straightens up and turns around, his eyes immediately find yours. His expression changes instantly, his eyes widening in surprise and joy. A brilliant smile spreads across his face, mirroring the elation in your heart.

Without a moment's hesitation, Sunghoon skates over to you at speed, his movements as graceful and powerful as they were on the ice. He reaches you in what feels like no time, pulling you into his arms with a mix of laughter and tears in his eyes. It was the perfect passing-the-torch moment, leaving the ice behind to run to you and your future together.

"What are you doing here?" he questions, still trapping you in an iron grip, his voice filled with amazement and joy.

"I couldn’t not be here, it's your last skate," you explain, your voice trembling with emotion. "I had to see it up close. I had to be here for you."

His grip tightens, his head burying into the crook of your neck, grounding himself in your presence. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice breaking. "I’m so fucking happy you’re here.”

You hold him tightly, feeling the rapid thud of his heart against yours. Tears of pride and happiness stream down your face as you soak in the moment, the culmination of all his hard work and dedication. He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours, and you see the deep gratitude and love reflected in them.

"You were perfect out there," you say, your voice thick with emotion. "Every single moment was incredible. I've never been so proud of you."

“I love you like crazy,” he confesses with the same amount of passion he put into his routine. His lips find yours in a kiss filled with fervour and emotion, the world around you fading away. The noise of the crowd, the flashing cameras, and even the bright lights of the arena all dissolve into a blur as you lose yourself in the kiss.

Sunghoon's hands cup your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears on your cheeks. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, feeling the heat and intensity of his love. The kiss deepens, each of you pouring all the emotions of the night into this singular, powerful moment. It's a kiss that speaks of triumph, of shared dreams, and of a future together that you both can see so clearly.

When you finally pull back, breathless and flushed, you rest your forehead against his, your eyes locked onto his. "I love you too, Sunghoon," you whisper, your voice full of conviction and tenderness. "More than anything."

Just then, an official approaches, reminding Sunghoon that it's time to get his score. He looks at you, a mixture of reluctance and determination in his eyes. "I have to go," he says, his voice steadying. "But meet me in the hotel lobby at 7pm? I have something planned for you,” he says ominous, a mischievous glint twinkling in his dark orbs.

You mindlessly nod, head racing to come up with conclusions to his riddle. But you know better than to try and guess what Park Sunghoon has in store, instead, you give his lips one final kiss before letting go. “I’ll be there.”

He nods, taking a deep breath as he turns towards the judging area, taking the same spot that Minhee did moments ago. He just had to get in the 310s to get bronze, which is by no means feet. But you know he secretly wants the gold, knowing that it’s the perfect icing on the cake for his career. 

You glance up at the board, nervously switching between biting the skin around your fingers and your lip. Of course, you were nervous for Minhee, but he had at least one more shot at Olympic gold, Sunghoon didn’t. That mounts immense anxiety onto your chest, hoping that he can achieve victory the way he wants.

The first number flashes on the screen, followed by another, and then the total score is revealed: "331.75." The audience erupts into a thunderous roar, the sound almost deafening.

Sunghoon's eyes widen in disbelief and joy as he takes in the numbers. 

He won…first place.

The realisation is gradual, knowing that no matter how good the next skater is, beating a score like that is near impossible, with their average being 287.20, he knows he’s secured gold. Jumping up from his seat, Coach Lee crushes him in a bone-breaking hug, lifting him so his skates are off the ground. 

“My fucking champ! I knew you could do it!” he shouts loud enough that the cameras pick it up and probably has to be bleeped to the millions of viewers on the other end, yet, you know they can probably make out how excited and proud the coach is despite the redacted words.

Laughing, Sunghoon nods, eyes roaming the area for you. He wants you to be the first thing he sets his sights on because, without you, this wouldn’t be possible. Your expression is a mix of gratification and pride, your gazes meeting as they whisper poems of love and adoration, even through the distance. 

He owes you his entire life for making him see the joy in this strenuous sport once again, and he is going to do everything in his power to repay you for it, and he has his entire life to do so.

_____

Waiting in the lobby at precisely 7pm, you anticipate the arrival of your gold medal-winning boyfriend. In the time between his victory and now, you’ve managed to doll yourself up a bit. While he and Minhee were training the past few days, you took some time to go shopping, picking up a few bits and pieces. Your brother is generous with manager fees, so you can afford to spend a little extra while you’re here.

Now, you are clad in a stunning black Krysta Tulle Mini Dress, reminiscent of the one you wore at your award ceremony back in August, but this one is a bit shorter and more revealing. Sunghoon earned it, after all, and the least he deserves is some cleavage with whatever he has planned.

Speaking of his plans, you’re still in the dark about what he has in store for you. Your mind wanders to the obvious choices like the Eiffel Tower—perhaps he’s managed to get a private dinner booking like you see in movies, or maybe the Louvre instead. Perhaps he’s planned a romantic walk across the love lock bridge; although you can’t participate and adorn the bridge with a new lock that signifies your love, it’s still romantic to see all the lovers of the past and how their stories are still shared.

Suddenly, there is a gentle tap on your shoulder. You turn around to see your boyfriend standing there, looking as handsome as ever. His hair is styled in the side parting you always liked, with that one strand curving over his face, somehow highlighting the bridge of his nose which you love so much. Those freckles mark frequent kissing spots.

You’re glad you decided to dress up because Sunghoon is wearing a fitted suit, chic and beautiful, perfectly matching the city’s aesthetic. He looks like a vision, your mind swirling with love and a hint of desire. You’re just a girl, after all—it’s only natural to see your man in a suit and the first thing you want to do is rip it off.

Sunghoon’s breath catches in his throat as he takes in the sight of you. His eyes widen, and for a moment, it’s as if the entire world falls away, leaving just the two of you standing there in the softly lit lobby. He’s always known you were beautiful, but tonight, dressed in stunning frills under the gold-hued lobby of this overly expensive hotel, you look breathtaking.

His heart pounds in his chest, and he feels a wave of emotions wash over him - pride, adoration, and a deep, overwhelming love. The dress hugs your curves perfectly, the short length showcasing your legs, and the neckline draws his eyes to your exposed collarbones and the soft swell of your cleavage. It’s alluring without being overt, and he can’t help but marvel at how effortlessly you pull off such a look.

“You look...wow,” he finally manages to say, his voice filled with awe. His eyes trace over you, taking in every detail - the confident way you hold yourself, the sparkle in your eyes that mirrors his own excitement, and how your heart is beating in synch with his. 

He steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “I want to fuck you so bad,” he whispers, low enough that only you can hear it.

A laugh erupts from your chest before you swat him with your hand. “You are not getting out of taking me out in Paris just because you can’t keep it in your pants. You roll your eyes to convey annoyance but it’s hard to even feign being stern with him when you were thinking the exact same thing about him.

That fuck buddy sex drive you had never left once you got into a relationship, that much is evident.

“Well,” Sunghoon says, taking your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours, “I’m not exactly taking you out in Paris.” He turns around, leading you back the way you came from. His sheepish tone is accompanied by an apologetic look flashing across his face as he walks you towards the elevator.

“Hoonie, I swear to god, if you made me get all dressed up just to take me back to your hotel room to fuck, I will be so mad. I-,” you struggle to think of a bargaining chip in this fight. “I won’t let you eat me out ever again.”

Sunghoon stops dead in his tracks, turning to you with wide eyes and an even wider mouth, his free hand dramatically resting over his heart. “How dare you threaten to take away my favourite activity? That is cruel, so cruel, even for you.”

You can't help but laugh at his theatrics but by Sunghoon’s standards, this is actually quite tame considering the cards you have dealt. He can’t go three days without being between your legs so the punishment you would inflict by taking that away from him is worse than any torture interrogation method. 

“Well, you deserve it if you think you can just drag me back to your room.”

Smiling and slightly proud, Sunghoon resumes his position, walking you to the lift and pressing the button. “It’s not my room. It’s a surprise. Just trust me, okay?”

Of course, you do trust him, but your heart beats quicker as you realize you really have no idea what you are getting yourself into.

Stepping into the elevator, Sunghoon presses the rooftop button and you eye him curiously. “The rooftop?” you question, but before you can guess further, he pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Shhh, don’t try and spoil the surprise I worked so hard for,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss your neck. His lips trail soft, teasing kisses from your jawline to your collarbone, each one sending shivers down your spine.

“Sunghoon,” you whisper, a mix of adoration and desire in your tone. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and the anticipation is killing you. His hands roam gently over your back, pulling you even closer until there’s no space left between you. The warmth of his body and the intoxicating scent of his cologne make it impossible to think straight, any questions about the roof now gone.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. Sunghoon reluctantly pulls away, yet a satisfied smirk sits on his lips as he leads you out onto the rooftop.

To your surprise, the usually bustling terrace is completely empty. Instead of the usual crowd, there is a single, elegantly set table for two. Soft fairy lights twinkle around the perimeter, casting a warm glow. A bottle of champagne sits chilling in an ice bucket on the table, and beyond it, the Eiffel Tower stands majestically, its lights shimmering against the night sky.

You walk forward, admiring the view of the city from this vantage point. It’s full of night tourists and young lovers who share the same depth of feelings as you and Sunghoon do. Never has a place taken your breath away. Granted, you haven’t ventured much out of your home country, but this is unlike anything you could have imagined.

Leaning over the stone balcony, you let out an almost inaudible 'whoa' and cherish the view. “Sunghoon, this is beautiful. How did you manage this?”

He chuckles, pulling out the cork of the overly-priced champagne. “I have my ways. Why would I take you to something a million and one couples do when I can give you something unique?” Sunghoon’s pouring skills leave much to be desired, the overflow of the liquid spilling onto the ground, splashing on his shoes.

Although it should slightly ruin the moment, you can’t help but tear your eyes away from the city and laugh at the less-than-aesthetic scene before you. Sunghoon looks up at you with a sorrowful expression and hands you the damp glass anyway.

“You know, I was aiming for elegance,” he says with a playful pout.

Taking the glass from him, you grin. “I’ve learned you can only do elegance when it comes to skating, it’s okay, baby.”

He relaxes, the tension easing from his shoulders as he joins you at the balcony. Together, you raise your glasses, the Eiffel Tower twinkling in the background. “To you,” he grins brightly, tilting his glass to be clinked with yours.

“To me? Shouldn’t it be to your gold medal?” you ask a little incredulously. This night should one hundred percent be about your boyfriend and his deserved win, so why on earth is he cheersing to you right now?

“My gold medal doesn’t mean anything compared to you.” Sunghoon is so sweet with his words, to the point you wonder if he came straight out of a romance novel. But knowing your boyfriend better than anyone, you have a sneaking suspicion about something, more precisely about something possibly around his neck.

Narrowing your eyes, you lower your glass and hold it close to your chest, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You’re wearing that medal right now, aren’t you?” you challenge, a playful grin tugging at your lips.

Sunghoon attempts to play it cool, shaking his head with a feigned look of innocence. “What? Me? No way. I’ve not got an ego,” he says, but the slight twitch of his lips gives him away.

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a knowing look. “Sunghoon, I can see right through you.”

He sighs, realizing there's no use in denying it. With a sheepish grin, he dips his hand into his shirt and pulls out the gleaming gold medal, letting it sit in the lights for a moment before tucking it back in. “Fine, you caught me,” he laughs.

You give him a weird look, your confusion evident. “Why are you wearing it under your shirt?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, a playful glint in his eyes. “What? I like the way it feels,” he admits, a boyish grin spreading across his face. “Not everyone has a gold medal.”

You shake your head in disbelief, eyes rolling as you take your first sip of the golden liquid. With the city of love sprawled out beneath you and the Eiffel Tower twinkling like a thousand stars, the moment feels perfect. Sunghoon wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as you both gaze out at the stunning view, savouring the magic of Paris and the joy of being together.

“You know,” he begins, placing his flute down, “I also like the way you feel,” he breathes out seductively, both hands twirling you to face him. As mesmerising as the city is, the look of need in your boyfriend’s eyes trumps it all.

His hands rest on your hips, fingers gently kneading as he draws you even closer. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “How did I get so lucky?”

You smile, feeling a flutter in your chest, like a million butterflies have just escaped their cocoons and are roaming free around your ribcage. “I’m the lucky one,” you reply softly, tracing your fingers along the edge of his jaw.

Sunghoon’s eyes darken with intensity as he tilts your chin up, capturing your lips in a slow, passionate kiss. The world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in each other’s embrace. The night air is cool against your skin, but his touch is warm, grounding you in this perfect moment.

The kiss deepens, becoming more fervent with every passing second. Your heart races as his hands roam your body, caressing and squeezing in all the right places. You clumsily place your glass down beside his, but it’s hard to concentrate because his hands are everywhere - one gripping your waist, the other sliding down to cup your ass. He pulls you closer, pressing your bodies together, his need palpable in every touch.

His mouth moves hungrily against yours, each kiss more intense than the last. You can feel his desire, his longing, in the way he devours your lips. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, as if you can’t get enough of him and the only way to be satisfied is to crawl into his skin. His kisses trail down your jawline, nipping and sucking gently at your skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

When he reaches your neck, you gasp, your head tilting back to give him better access. He takes full advantage, his lips and teeth working magic as he moves down your throat. His hands grip your hips tightly, pulling you against him as he nibbles and licks at your sensitive skin. Your breath comes in short, desperate gasps, the sensations overwhelming.

Just when you think you can’t take any more, he drops to his knees in front of you. Panic flares in your chest, and you glance around, worried about being seen. “What if someone sees?” you whisper, your voice shaky with a mix of fear and excitement.

Sunghoon looks up at you, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Then I’ll make sure we put on a show,” he murmurs, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing your dress higher. The thrill of his words sends a shiver down your spine, and you can’t help but tremble in anticipation.

He hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties, pulling them to the side. The cool night air hits your exposed skin, making you shiver. But his touch is warm, his fingers gentle as they slide against your most sensitive places. He looks up at you one last time, his eyes filled with desire and mischief, before he leans in, his mouth pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss against you.

The sensation is electric, his tongue teasing and tasting, driving you wild with need. Your hands grip the stone balcony for support, your legs trembling as he works his magic. He’s relentless, his mouth and tongue working in perfect harmony.

Just like the first time he ever tasted you, he’s losing himself in your flavour, manually putting your legs around his shoulders to allow him deeper access to your dripping cunt. The juices that are leaking from your body are better than any gold medal. Each cry that passes your lips is accompanied by more of your sweetness coating his tongue.

You can’t help but grip his hair now, holding him in place as he lavishes attention on your aching clit. He savours your taste, his tongue flicking and circling with expert precision as he laps you up. Long, slow licks are interspersed with quick, teasing flicks, sending waves of pleasure through your body. He knows exactly what you need, and he gives it to you without hesitation.

Sunghoon's mouth moves with purpose, sucking gently at your clit before delving back with his tongue, exploring every inch of you. He hums against your skin, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation that has you arching your back and moaning his name. The heat builds inside you, an inferno that only he can control.

He intensifies his efforts, his tongue pressing harder, his movements more deliberate. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you steady as you writhe against him, completely lost in the pleasure he’s giving you, forgetting that with every mewl of his name, there is a greater risk of this entire hotel knowing what you’re up to. Your breaths come in short, ragged gasps, the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you.

Finally, the tension that’s been building inside you snaps, and you cry out, your body shaking with the force of your release. Sunghoon doesn’t stop, his mouth and hands guiding you through every wave of pleasure until you’re spent, leaning back against the balcony for support. Sunghoon shoulders most of your weight as you fold in on yourself, your feet still dangling over his broad shoulders.

Sunghoon wastes no time. He gently places your feet back on the ground and rises to his full height, his eyes dark with desire. He captures your lips in a searing kiss, and you taste the remnants of your own release on his lips, mingling with the champagne. It's intoxicating, the mix of flavours and the intensity of his kiss making your head spin.

All apprehension goes out the window as you begin to undo his trousers, your fingers fumbling with the button and zipper in your eagerness. You pull out his cock, feeling its hard length throbbing in your hand. His eyes remain locked on yours, the connection between you unbreakable as you guide him to your entrance. The city lights behind him create a halo around his head, making the moment feel almost surreal.

He pushes into you slowly, and your breath hitches at the sensation. Your eyes remain focused on one another, the world around you fading into the background. The feeling of him filling you is overwhelming, the connection between your bodies electric. The city behind you twinkles in the night, a backdrop to the raw, passionate scene unfolding.

Sunghoon starts moving, his pace quickening as he finds a rhythm that makes you both gasp with pleasure. Your body responds to his every touch, your legs wrapping around his waist to allow him to reach deeper. His thrusts become faster and more desperate, the sound of skin against skin mingling with your moans and the distant hum of the city below.

"God, you feel amazing," he groans against your ear, his voice thick with desire. "I could stay inside you forever."

You grip his shoulders tighter, your nails digging into his skin as you feel the pressure building again. "Sunghoon," you whisper, your voice breathy and needy, "don't stop."

"I won't, I’ll never stop fucking you. I’ll never stop loving you," he promises, his thrusts becoming even more intense, each one sending waves of pleasure through your body. His hands roam your back, one slipping down to squeeze your ass, the other tangling in your hair to pull your head back, giving him better access to your neck.

In a moment of heated passion, he takes his gold medal from around his neck and places it over yours, the cool metal resting against your heated skin. He uses the ribbon to pull you closer, bringing your lips together in a bruising kiss. The weight of the medal and the intensity of his gaze make you feel like the most precious thing in the world.

Leaning on the balcony behind you with your elbows, you try your hardest to jerk your hips in rhythm with his, the motion causing him to hiss into your mouth as he tip punctures your cervix a few times, giving him a taste of something more. It’s too dangerous to throw your legs over his shoulders and have you balancing on the edge, he never wants to put you in danger, so he thinks if the next best thing.

Without warning, he flips you around, pressing your front against the cool stone of the ledge. He enters you again from behind, his thrusts more intense, driven by a primal need. The contrast between the roughness of his movements and the serene beauty of the city below is stark, making the moment even more exhilarating.

You brace yourself against the balcony, your moans echoing in the night as he pounds into you with relentless enthusiasm. His hands grip your hips, guiding you back onto him with each thrust, his cock hitting deeper than ever before. The force of his movements sends shivers down your spine, your body completely surrendering to the pleasure he's giving you. The city behind you is a blur of lights and sounds, but all you can focus on is the man who is driving you to the edge once more.

Sunghoon's hands grip your hips with a possessive strength, his fingers digging in as he drives into you with a relentless pace. Each thrust is purposeful, his body moving with a precision born of passion and familiarity. His breaths come in staggered gasps, his face pressed against your shoulder, lips brushing against your skin. The rough stone of the balcony presses into your chest, adding a contrasting chill to the searing heat of his body. The city lights below seem to blur as the intensity of the moment takes over.

"I'm gonna love you until the day I die," he growls into your ear, his breath hot and needy despite the sweetness of his words. The weight of his desire is palpable, sending shivers down your spine. "I can’t wait to make you mine."

His words are a catalyst for the pleasure that courses through you, intensifying with each powerful thrust. Your body is on fire, a taut string being pulled to its limit. You can feel the pressure building to a breaking point, the sensation almost overwhelming as he keeps up his relentless rhythm. The sheer force of his movements pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

"I'm yours," you gasp, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own moans. "I’m already yours, Hoonie." Your hands grip the railing tightly, knuckles white, as you brace yourself against the force of his thrusts. The night air is cool against your heated skin, a stark contrast to the burning desire you feel.

Sunghoon’s breath becomes ragged, each inhalation coming in quick, shallow bursts. His fingers slip around your body, finding their way to your clit with a precision that makes you cry out. The touch is electrifying, sending jolts of pleasure through you with every stroke. He moves his fingers in tight, swirling motions, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive you wild.

The combination of his skilled touch and the unrelenting rhythm of his thrusts is too much to handle. Your body trembles violently as you spiral into another intense climax, the sensation causing you to scream his name into the night. The release is all-consuming, leaving you feeling as though you’re floating in a sea of pleasure.

The intensity of your release acts as a trigger for Sunghoon, who is lost in the frenzy of the moment. With a final, deep, and forceful thrust, he comes inside you, his body tensing and shuddering as his climax overtakes him. His grip on your hips tightens, his muscles flexing as he rides out his orgasm. He collapses against your back, his breathing ragged, and you can feel his warmth spread across your skin.

Both of you pant heavily, your bodies slick with sweat. The city below remains a beautiful, shimmering backdrop, but the focus of your world is now on each other. The contrast between the intensity of your passion and the serene beauty of the Parisian night is almost surreal.

Sunghoon pulls you gently against him, his lips trailing soft, tender kisses along your neck as you both come down from the high. His hands caress your sides, a soothing contrast to the earlier fervour. “I love you so much, Sweets.”

The confession passing his lips isn’t new and you’ve heard it umpteen times just today but somehow this one means a lot more than previous. Maybe it was the setting or the fact his cock is snuggly inside of you, but either way, you cherish it just like the rest.

“I love you, too, Hoonie.”

Sunghoon’s movements are gentle as he pulls out of you, his touch tender and careful. He reaches for a soft napkin from the table, using it to clean both of you with practiced, considerate strokes. The contrast between the cool fabric and the warmth of his skin creates a soothing sensation, a calming end to the intensity of your shared experience. His eyes are locked onto yours with a depth of affection that makes your heart swell. It’s a gaze so filled with love and tenderness that it feels almost surreal, as if you’re both suspended in a perfect, unblemished moment.

“This was perfect, Sunghoon,” you murmur, your voice soft and filled with genuine appreciation. The night has been magical, a blend of romance and intimate connection that feels like a dream. “Thank you.”

Sunghoon’s face lights up with a beaming smile, his eyes twinkling with an emotion so raw and pure that it almost makes you catch your breath. He shakes his head in a modest gesture, though the joy in his expression is unmistakable. “Believe it or not,” he says with a playful glint in his eye, “this wasn’t what I had planned.”

“Oh?” you reply, your curiosity piqued as you watch him with a mixture of surprise and intrigue.

With a dramatic flourish, Sunghoon reaches into the pocket of his suit and retrieves a small, elegant box. He presents it to you with a blend of excitement and nervous anticipation, his hands trembling slightly. “I have something else for you,” he says, his voice a blend of excitement and tenderness.

Your fingers tremble as you take the box from him, the weight of the moment sinking in. You open it slowly, revealing a delicate necklace with a beautiful ring attached. The ring sparkles softly in the low light, its beauty undeniable. Sunghoon’s eyes are fixed on you, his expression a mixture of hope and love.

“I wanted this day to be unforgettable,” he begins, his voice steady but emotional. “When I first saw you that day, crying in Belmore, I knew I needed to protect you from anything and everything bad in the world. I know, our start was rough and we had way too many close calls that tore us apart. But we did it, we got through it which makes me think we can really get through anything.”

He breathes out slowly, before taking his glass from earlier and downing it for dutch courage, causing you to laugh through the bubble of emotion in your throat. 

“I thought now, that everything is done and I’m not going to be Ice Prince Park Sunghoon that I need a new title and that could be Y/N Kang’s husband?” The smile grows on his face as he imagined being addressed in such a way, wearing it as a badge of honour. “So I got you this. You can wear the necklace for now, and when you’re ready to be my wife, you can take the ring off and put it on your finger.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the significance of his gesture. The necklace is elegant, the ring a symbol of commitment that transcends the ordinary. Tears of joy well up in your eyes, and you struggle to find the right words. “I don’t know what to say,” you whisper, overwhelmed by the depth of his love. “This is...it’s beautiful.”

Sunghoon’s gaze remains locked on you, his expression a blend of adoration and nervousness. He watches as you carefully lift the ring from the necklace and slide it onto your engagement finger. The fit is perfect, and as you look up at him, your smile radiates happiness and awe. “What if I’m ready now?” you ask, your voice trembling with emotion.

Sunghoon’s face softens, his eyes shimmering with tears of joy as he reaches out to cup your face in his hands. His touch is gentle and reassuring, and he leans in to press a tender kiss against your lips. “If you’re ready now,” he mumbles against your lips, his breath warm and comforting, “then I’m ready for forever.”

The world around you blurs into insignificance as you both embrace, the enormity of the moment enveloping you. The city lights below shimmer like a vast constellation, their brilliance echoing the love and joy that fills your hearts. In the perfect Parisian night, amidst the twinkling lights and the soft glow of the Eiffel Tower, you and Sunghoon stand together, united by a love that feels as boundless as the city itself. The promise of the future stretches out before you, a journey you’re ready to embark on together, hand in hand and heart to heart.

perm taglist (sorry if you didnt read the series): @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @monstanctiny21 @strawberrysavi @diorsyun @heexzbae @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove @heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee @xxbluestrifexx @bambangan @dollyyun @iluvikeu @deobitifull @yawnazzz @st1llm0nster @woorcve @heeseungsbm @star-hoon

[lucysarah-c]

The door creaked under Levi's weight as he entered his office. His bloodshot eyes surveyed the dim room, a sight that usually offered comfort but now unsettled him deeply.

His mouth felt dry, coated with an unfamiliar taste. He was sweltering in his military uniform, blaming the oppressive heat on the formal attire rather than his own tension. Dragging his feet across the office, he approached the bedroom door, which was slightly ajar. He pushed it open, perhaps too forcefully, causing you to stir in bed and twitch involuntarily.

You didn’t wake up, but one of your bare legs shifted higher. On any other occasion, Levi would have grumbled about the wrinkles on the sheets. You always insisted on neatly tucking the blankets only to end up sprawled across them, barely covered. Curled in a fetal position, your smooth, naked legs parted slightly at his noisy entrance. Your light nightgown had bunched around your hips, leaving your body exposed. Lips parted, you breathed softly, your chest rising and falling peacefully as you slept.

It bothered him deeply that you were asleep. This alone spoke volumes about his intoxicated state because, under normal circumstances, he would have been filled with adoration. His gaze lingered between your legs, noting that you weren’t wearing panties. Normally, he might say the view made his pants feel tighter, but the truth was he had been hard since leaving the military board meeting.

Stumbling forward with one objective in mind, he tripped. Even in his drunken state, he felt like an idiot. It was a forewarning of how stupid he would feel the next morning once his full faculties returned. Squinting in the dim light, he saw what had caused his fall: your bags, perfectly arranged at the foot of the bed, ready for your early departure to a girls-only trip by the lake for the weekend.

But in that moment, Levi couldn't care less. He had drunk far too much at the military board's mandatory party. Initially, he was reluctant to have more than a glass or two. But everyone insisted, and drinking allowed him to avoid conversation. When the MPs brought in women, probably paid for, he felt ashamed to be there, especially knowing you were at home. He continued drinking to keep his eyes occupied and his mouth busy. The heat wave made the crowded, smoke-filled room unbearable, and with no water available, he kept drinking.

With too much alcohol in his system, his mind fixated on his most primal instincts. These included frequent bathroom trips and, of course, thoughts of you. He imagined you and him together, sweating—since he was already drenched, it would be better if he were naked and thrusting into you—hearing you moan his name, feeling your body beneath his control.

A small part of his consciousness insisted that his thoughts were wrong. But the other part urged, “Since you're already on the floor, take off your shoes.”

Before he could think clearly, he had climbed onto the bed, positioning himself on all fours above you. His lips found the tender spot on your neck as his hand slid under your nightgown.

"Mmm," you groaned, stirring uneasily under his touch. Your eyes remained closed, but you were slowly waking. Levi sucked and nibbled at your neck with the fervor of a man possessed. "Levi?" you asked, confused, allowing his hands to roam over your body.

Levi simply hummed, pleased that you were awake.

"You're back?" you asked, though it was clear he was there. "Levi, I need to sleep."

"I'll be quick," he promised, his voice slurred, betraying his drunken state. You could taste the alcohol on his breath when his lips met yours.

You pulled back slightly, repulsed, "You're drunk," you muttered, sleepily, as he continued to assault your neck.

"Drunk in love with you," he declared, his words catching you off guard. "I want you," he continued, kissing your shoulder. "I need you."

It was clear he wasn’t thinking straight. "Levi," you protested, his hand now squeezing your breast over the nightgown, and his hard erection pressing against your core, "I need to sleep. I leave early in the morning."

Your complaints were silenced as he kissed you messily, moaning into your mouth, taking your breath away. A thin thread of saliva connected you as he looked at you with drunken, lust-filled eyes. "You don't have to do anything. I'll do it all."

You weren’t sure if it was the idea of a quickie before sleep or his unusually needy state that made you receptive, but you parted your knees slightly on the mattress. You didn’t bother moving from the position you had been sleeping in just moments ago. With your face resting on the pillow, Levi positioned himself and thrust inside you. Your faces were close, sharing the same breath, panting as he eagerly fucked you. It was messy, fast-paced, and though it lacked his usual calculated rhythm, it was intensely arousing and intimate. It felt like being teenagers again, fumbling through quick, passionate sex without knowing exactly how it was done, but enjoying every second of it.

"Ah- mmm!" you moaned softly, too tired to be loud, quiet little kittenish sounds escaping your lips. He was impossibly deep, his heat blending with the oppressive summer air. Sweat dripped from his face, mingling with yours.

"Ah- ah, yeah! Fuck, you feel amazing. Mmm, ah!" Levi was unusually vocal, his eyebrows raised slightly, mouth open. From the corner of your eye, you admired his relaxed expression, completely lost in the moment. "I'm fucking melting inside you."

It felt the same for you. The quick, messy fuck ended with him spilling inside you, not helping to ease the heat.

You usually didn’t mind Levi cuddling you, but this time, it felt unbearable. The air was hot, he was like a living radiator next to you, the sheets were warm and tangled, and you felt sticky and wet all over.

Reluctantly, you slipped out of bed, determined not to miss your trip with your friends. You dragged yourself to the bathroom for a cold shower. Half-lidded eyes tried to focus on the reflection in the bathroom mirror. Gradually, your eyebrows drew together as you noticed the deep purplish marks on your neck and hips. There went your hopes of wearing a bikini around the families at the lake.

"LEVI ACKERMAN!"

The pillow fell off his head as he jolted awake, his upper body shooting up in bed. A terrible decision, as he immediately felt a pounding headache and a wave of nausea from last night's excesses. Groaning, he gripped his head, dreading the day's work ahead. The fallen pillow didn’t help when you hit him with it.

"OI!"

"You RUINED my girl's weekend!"

--

"My head is killing me," Erwin muttered, his dark circles standing out against his pale, sickly complexion. The scorching sun outside the shop only made things worse. "Levi! We're going to be late!" he complained as his colleague lingered inside the shop.

Levi peeked outside, looking no better. "We wouldn’t be late if you didn’t take so long to get ready. As usual."

Erwin groaned as Levi disappeared back into the shop.

When it was finally his turn, Levi approached the front desk quickly. "What are the prettiest flowers you have?" he asked.

The florist, busy rearranging a bouquet, looked up with a grimace. "Oh boy…"

(I don't know what this was... It just came to my mind.)

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthor @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @storiesofsung @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @r3becca_0 @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @hyuckwon-my-husbands @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[r3starttt]

DON'T BUY TLOU | PALESTINE MP | PALESTINE LINKS | DAILY CLICK | TAGLIST

Dealer! Abby who's got her hands round your neck and stomach, her hips against your ass, rubbing herself like she's the one in need. The ligh in the bathroom almost too Intense for your current state to deal with, the music too loud, making everythinf buzz- and her words, too hurtful for you to even focus on how wet she's got you with it. But she knows- she's aware she's got you ridiculously wet. "Think you can do better than me?" Her lips pressing a kiss right on your earlobe, her breath hitting your skin. "No- Abs, please," all because you accepted some random girl's joint instead of looking for her- who you knew was about to fuck some other girl too. "Shut the fuck up." Thing is, she caught you first.

While your hands keep yourself in balance against the sink, her fingers pull towards your chest, underneath your shirt which she takes with her hand, exposing a bra she very much knew. "Gotta be fucking kidding me" She mocked you. "You're a fucking whore, mhm?" every move accompanied by a wet kiss on your neck- lips sucking and nibbling at your skin with no shame, her reddish eyes looking at you through the reflection. you just blabber in denial, feeling her other hand tightening around your neck, the callouses of her fingers harsh against your skin. "No? you're not a whore?" The vibrations of her laugh hit your skin, almost at the rhythm of the music outside. "Then why're you wearing this, just a coincidence?" she voices almost like a long grown. "Abs-" it wasn't in fact, any coincidence, but she was too mad and annoyed by your stupid voice right now and your drunk-high blabbering to care about any word coming out your mouth that wasn't whimpers. "Shut the fuck up." Her fingers graced over the cups of your bra, tracing its pattern, skimming the lacey material before pulling the cups under your breasts.The reflection in the mirror humiliating. some baby hairs cascading on the sides of your face, quivering brows and a stupid smile half biting- sucking at your bottom lip and your breasts now fully exposed, your nipples begging to be touched. It was giving you a headache.

Her nails wrapped your perky nipples, pulling and pinching until she saw your reflection- that stupid look on your face- as she played with you, the hand on your throat left, going down yoru ass to cup and grip at the flesh, her index finger pulling you from the belt loop. “Think she could’ve made you cum?” she kept the palm of her hand steady against your hip, slowly moving back to your lower stomach, down your zipper until her palm cupped your cunt over the pair of jeans you were wearing, the fabric suddenly too thin yet too thick. You shook your head relentlessly, blabbering quiet no’s over and over again until she’d had enough fun with you.

“Haven't even started fucking you right, you're already drenched" her fingers slid right above your clothed cunt, underneath your jeans. Her fingers rubbing the smallest and slowest circles over your clit. Her other hand left your nipples, all swollen and sensitive- she rather forcing you to look at your reflection, hugging your neck tight enough for you to follow her unspoken command. “You're fucking wet, all cause I'm being mean to you? yeah?" you nod your head, letting her run her thick fingers down the slit of your cunt, aching for her to just pull your panties aside, touch your twitching entrance properly. “Want me to fuck you? want me to use you?" Abby’s eyes were red-ish, half leaded and looking at you pitied, cruel. Your nails hit the cold of the sink, the notion sending and awkward shiver to your whole body. “Please,” she laughs at how pathetic you are, all from just her fingers which she didn’t took long to push into you, they slid with ease, like you were made for her. It was embarrassing for you, but her? the whole scene before her feeding her ego, no one could ever make you this stupid. “see? sucking my fingers right in like the whore you are" you grind back onto her fingers, your walls clenching around them. you could feel your cheeks burning at the sound of your slick folds, the neediness of your hole to be filled. “You're gonna be fucking loud, and say my name when you cum. Let that bitch know who’s fucking you , yeah?”

[jobean12-blog]

Wild For You

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Biker!Joel AU)

Word Count: 1,359

Summary: A new coworker at the bar treats you poorly and it really ruins your day but thankfully you have your amazing man to come home to and he makes everything better. 

Author’s Note: Just some more of our favorite soft Biker 😍I missed him this week and since it’s Monday I really just want to plant myself in this man’s lap and never leave! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️ Both dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics Thanks a bunch Daisy🥰

Warnings: he’s super soft, sweet, and protective, but very flirty and a little bossy (in the best way) and super s-e-x-y and there’s some light angst and i-mp-li-e-d s-e-x-y time

Joel Miller Masterlist

“Oh darlin’,” Joel croons. “Come ‘ere.”

You fall into his strong arms, snuggling into his lap and clutching the front of his shirt. You let out a sniffle as hot tears roll down your cheeks, soaking the material.

“Maybe I’m overreacting?” you question quietly, nuzzling against his chest. “I don’t know what I could have done to make him…”

“No you’re not,” he says abruptly, cutting you off. “Nothin’ you could have done makes what that asshole said to you ok. No one talks to you like that.”

At his gruff response you look up into his eyes now hardened with fierce determination. His large thumb swipes across your wet cheeks, calloused skin gentle and soothing.

Emotion fills his voice as he growls, “he sounds like a real shithead and if he ever so much as looks at you in a way you don’t like again I’m goin’ to end him.”

“End him?” you say as a small smile pulls at the corner of your mouth.

“Yeah,” he scoffs, taken aback by your slight amusement. “I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”

“I will never understand how you can be so scary and so cuddly at the same time,” you sigh as you lay your head along his shoulder.

He gently rubs your back as he tugs you closer.

“Did you just call me cuddly darlin’?”

“I did,” you whisper. “So warm and cuddly and strong.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called cuddly in my entire life,” he chuckles.

“Mm,” you hum, kissing his neck. “You better only be cuddly for me.”

“Only you sunshine,” he murmurs before kissing the top of your head.

You stay like that for a while. Just basking in his warmth and comfort. So thankful you have him to come home to after an awful day.

Suddenly your stomach growls.

“Hungry darlin’?” he laughs, his body lightly shaking with the action.

“I guess so,” you mumble into his shirt, unwilling to leave his arms.

“You need to eat,” he says firmly, his fingers pressing under your chin until you’re looking up at him.

“So bossy!” you state as you sit up.

He grins wickedly. “You love when I’m bossy.”

You chew your bottom lip then lower your lashes. “I do, especially when you have me pinned…”

“Don’t distract me,” he warns. “I need to feed you first then we can play.”

Your face brightens as an idea comes to you.

“Can we make cookies?” you ask. “That’s food.”

“As much as I love your baking cookies aren’t dinner.”

You stand and glare at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Fine,” you pout. “I’d rather have cookies though.”

“Me too,” he says and quickly follows it with, “but dinner first.”

You frown. “But they’re for your eating pleasure,” you push, raising your brows.

“I’d rather eat you for pleasure,” he simpers. “But…”

You shiver at his words despite your discontent.

“I KNOW! I know” you huff. “But dinner first,” you mock with some sass.

You saunter into the kitchen, sure to put some extra sway behind your hips.

“Bossy, bossy…” you now mutter as you bend over to get a pot from the lower cabinet.

“I heard that darlin’,” he smiles as he follows you into the kitchen, his gaze glued to your ass.

You turn to face him when you feel the heat of him at your back. His eyes are soft as he traces the outline of your jaw.

“It’s been a long day. I want you to eat something good and then we can have cookies and then I’ll boss you around some more…”

His words trail off as he dips his head and steals your lips in a kiss that makes you forget about everything but him. When he pulls away your eyes remain closed and you cling to him, your fingers fisted into his shirt.

“Ok,” you breathe out. “Dinner first.”

“I’m takin’ you to work today,” he say decisively as he watches you get ready the next afternoon.

He’s sitting up in your bed, naked except for the sheet covering his lower half, and leaning against the bed frame with one arm resting behind his head.

You turn to meet his eyes, your gaze running down over his bare chest, lingering on his tattoos before falling to what’s beneath the covers.

“Are you going to be bossy like this all the time now?”

Your question has him smirking. “Well we are in the bedroom.”

“I should call out,” you muse, still staring at him.

He shifts his legs invitingly and pats the bed.

“Joel,” you warn but your lips twitch with a smile.

“Darlin’,” he counters, mischief dancing in his warm brown eyes.

You deflate somewhat as the realization of the reality of the situation hits you. “I can’t avoid this asshole forever. I like my job. He’s not going to ruin it for me.”

Your words seems to spark him into action and he nods grimly. “I’m gonna get dressed while you finish getting ready then we’ll take my bike.”

When you pull up to the bar Joel helps you off his bike, his hand wrapped tightly around yours as he leads you toward the door.

“I feel bad you’re going to sit here and babysit me all night,” you say quietly, stopping and pulling him to the side.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, tenderly pressing his palm to your cheek. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I feel much better being here with you and making sure you’re ok and it’s not babysitting…more I’m like your bodyguard.”

He smiles smugly and you lean into his touch, some of the tension easing slightly when he pulls you close and tucks you into his chest.

“My hot and sexy bodyguard boyfriend,” you giggle. “Who’s also seriously cuddly.”

He mumbles something incoherent and grumpy causing you to laugh, the sound lightening his mood as he walks you into the bar.  

He greets Dan and Jade, before he sits on one of the stools and adjusts his leather jacket and scans the room.

Your friend Jade rushes over and hugs you. “How are you?” she asks.

“Doing better. I just hope it’s a good night.”

Jade nods then her eyes shift to Joel. “With Joel here everything will be fine,” she says with an encouraging look. “And honestly, if Jack’s stupid enough to run his mouth again you’re taking it to the boss and Dan and I will back you up! That is…if Joel doesn’t kill him first.”

Jade grins at the thought.

You smile at your boyfriend then give your friend a thankful squeeze.  

“I’m just going to the back room to put my things away,” you inform Joel.

He reaches for your hand over the bar, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Ok darlin’,” he answers quietly.

As you start to walk off you see Jack coming around the bar and your shoulders instantly tense. With a swift glance at Joel you see his jaw tick, his teeth grinding as he zeroes in on the source of your dismay.

Thankfully, Jack gets hailed by a waiting customer and you can slip by him without any interaction.

Once you’re in the back room you let out a deep exhale and grab a bottle of water. The sound of the door creaking open draws your attention and you swing wide eyes in that direction.

At the sight of Joel you visibly relax but he can still see the tension riding your shoulders.

“I’m dallying,” you admit, “but I’m going to go out there and do my job and Jack can fuck off!”

“That’s my girl,” he winks.

Joel gives you an affectionate smile that turns naughty as he closes the door behind him and locks it.

“What are you doing?” you ask as he stalks toward you.

Your breathing is shallow as he takes you by the hips and walks you back into the lockers.

“Helping you relax,” he murmurs against your mouth as his fingers trail across your stomach before sliding into the waistband of your leggings.

You suck in a breath, his name a whispered plea on your parted lips.

“Remember to be quiet darlin’.”

@sstan-hoe @blackwidownat2814​ @pedritosdarling​ @beccablogsthings​ @justsimplevicky​ @laineyreads​ @lorilane33​ @littleseasiren​

[esamastation]

Part thirty of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine

-

"... And so, to minimise the chances of further incidents, Sephiroth was immediately assigned a priority mission in the Wutai region," Tseng concludes his report, his eyes fixed squarely by the President's nameplate on the desk. "A decision approved and backed by Director Deusericus, seeing as Sephiroth had fourteen missions pending in the area."

President Shinra hums, noncommittal. "And now I have an irate Head of Science Department to handle."

"I thought it would be better than the alternative," Tseng says simply.

"Hmph," the president answers. "What is Sephiroth's status now?"

"He's on board the troop transport SXR-774 and will be landing directly in Wutai in approximately twelve hours," Tseng reports. "Mentally and physically it's hard to tell - the last thing he did when still in this building was throw up a considerable amount of blood -"

"Hah!" The President snorts. "Yes, I saw the video."

Damnit, Reno. "Yes, sir. In any case, my people on board the transport report that he seems to be feeling better now."

"I see," the President scoffs and looks away, drumming his fingers against his enormous desk and turning away. "And what about his supposed newfound abilities? Hojo mentioned something about a new level of energy control - is Sephiroth finally starting to justify all the money that went into his creation?"

"... Sir?"

President Shinra slaps his desk. "Is he finally living up to his damned heritage? Is this him finally exhibiting Ancient abilities?"

Tseng hesitates. Ah. That. "Though it's… difficult to say for sure, it does seem that Sephiroth has developed some kind of new ability," he admits. "My agent with him heard him call what he was doing energy alignment, and said that Sephiroth also questioned the source of MP and where it resides in the body. So, one might reasonably theorise that Sephiroth is becoming more… aware."

The President stands up. "More aware," he repeats and turns to the windows that cover the walls of his penthouse office with their complete view of the city. "More… aware. Energy alignment. Professor Gast told me that the Ancients could feel the Mako flowing in the Planet. Could it be something like that?"

Tseng hesitates. "I… couldn't say, sir. It's possible."

President Shinra hums. "Good, good. And you sent him to Wutai too. Excellent," he decides. "That's better than Hojo locking him up in the labs! Better let the boy test his new abilities in the field. And your people will keep an eye on him?"

"Around the clock, sir," Tseng promises.

"Good! That's good," the President nods, clasping his hands behind his back and looking over Midgar with satisfaction. "Two decades of waiting. It's been expensive, but finally we will have some return for our investment. And who knows… maybe in Wutai he will find us the Promised Land, and we can put an end to all the… waste here."

Tseng presses his lips together and says nothing to that.

The President nods to himself. "Good. Keep me posted on Sephiroth's progress. The moment anything comes up, I want to know about it."

"Yes, sir, of course," Tseng bows his head. "What about Professor Hojo?"

"I'll handle him," President Shinra mutters. "Hojo has gotten a little annoying. It's unfortunate. All his best contributions are decades behind him - he lost his vision a long time ago, but… he still has his uses."

Mostly as a deterrent, yes. Tseng thinks. "Very good sir. If that will be all…?"

"Yes, yes, go - oh, and get me the full file on Sephiroth," President Shinra says and nods to himself. "I should refresh my memory."

"I will have it delivered to your desk within half an hour."

Tseng heads down from the President's office, taking a moment to arrange the file delivery. Cissnei could handle it, she has the evening shift. Checking his watch, he then considers his options, and the likely trouble waiting for him should Professor Hojo find out that Turks were involved in ferrying Sephiroth out of Midgar.

Reno and Rude are in the air, and there wouldn't be any updates either way until tomorrow. And Tseng has finished his paperwork for the day…

Loosening his tie, Tseng rolls his shoulders and mentally punches out for the day. He's out of the building and on a train before anyone can stop him - and soon after that, he's on his way down to Sector Five slums. The way down there is as familiar to him as the way to Shinra Building… though it's been a while.

He doesn't quite relax until he enters the sphere of Aerith's influence, and sees the first specks of green in the ground. Finding her isn't difficult - all you need is to follow the flowers. 

They're always facing her, wherever she is.

Right now at the Leaf House school, dressed in a pale blue dress with her long hair done up, helping the school staff arrange some sort of evening party. They're stringing fairy lights all around the schoolyard, and Aerith is setting up flower arrangements. It takes Tseng no time at all to figure out it's for someone's wedding party.

He hides in an alleyway and watches as Aerith spreads flowers, joy and life all around her, effortless and natural as breathing. She's sixteen now, and really coming into her power, that mysterious power no one truly understands, but everyone wants a piece of.

Power, which Sephiroth was supposed to have.

Tseng has read his file - all of them, even the one Hojo buried and pretended didn't exist, the one written by his predecessor, Shinra Electric Power Company's original Head of Science - Aerith's father.

How alike they two are. Aerith, the daughter of Professor Gast Faremis and Ifalna, and Sephiroth, the son of Professor Hojo and…

Sephiroth was an accidental success born out of a failure. The experiments that went into his creation made the SOLDIER program possible - but that's not what he was originally intended for. He was supposed to be the first step in the return of the Ancients… but he never showed the right signs. 

Instead what he had was raw, unmitigated power. And Shinra Electric Power Company liked power. And so the SOLDIER program took off.

If Sephiroth now starts showing powers like those of the Ancients… What would it even look like? Comparing Sephiroth to Aerith's is really like comparing a sword to a flower. They aren't even in the same realm as each other. Tseng really can't imagine it. The idea of a SOLDIER with the power of the Ancients…

Sephiroth is what Shinra made him, ultimately. He has never made anything grow. 

In the schoolyard Aerith laughs at something another girl says before making a mock offended face and throwing a flowerbud at her. They end up chasing each other around a table before heading inside the school, arm in arm, two girls with far too much hope for the world in their hearts.

Sighing, Tseng adds an annotation to Aerith's watch logs about her being in good health and safe, and turns to leave. 

He has no hope for Sephiroth, but if his existence keeps Aerith, who's growing up so fast, off the company's radar a little longer… he can't help but be grateful.

-

Btw I am ignoring lot of Compilation stuff here, and no one (except for SY and Hojo) know that Jenova isn't actually an Ancient.

[darin-nidk]

Highkey need a angst no comfort fanfic of Lucifer x Male!Reader, in which Lucifer is telling Charlie about "how humans were given freewill and look at what they do" but one of the residents is M.Reader who is flabbergasted at how apathic Lucifer is, gets on his face and shouts, yells at him.

▪︎ About how Lucifer himself should know better than anyone how twisted Heaven itself is and how God deemed His most beautiful and loyal soldier worthless, casting him aside — how humans are more complex with all the shades of grey that morality actually entitle.

▪︎ M.Reader voice cracking, not out of fear since Lucifer is looking absolutely fucking pissed and Charlie is holding him back, but because he is crying as he yells that he didn't deserve to be here and if anyone had failed him, it had been God (M.Reader having to kill his abuser because authorities and his close circle had failed him? Perhaps, died mid-abuse and the reason he was thrown into Hell was something as stupid as premarital marriage when it wasn't even consensual).

▪︎ Realization dawning on Lucifer, he stutters but M.Reader is angry-crying, pointing at himself at how Hell is also fucked up because "I died and my body has spots/heart shapes as a pattern across my body on the places I was hurt?!" M.Reader maybe even looking manic, absolutely gone as he breaks down before he storms off.

▪︎ Everyone standing awkwardly.

[ BONUS POINTS. ] Imagine M.Reader singing something akin to Congratulations from the Hamilton Musical as he breaks down on how Heaven had failed him, how praying to God didn't do a single thing, how it felt unreal when he landed in Hell when his only sin was being brought onto the world with no one to care about him and oh, did he fight? He fought tooth and nail but even the person with the strongest will to live, to barely survive will crumble down.

If you like my stories, consider donating to my Ko-Fi! Even cents are plenty of help!

Y si hablas español, 'tonces no seas garca y dame $2 para honrar el billete que no esta en circulación y que ni siquiera es de colección a mi MP .

[ihopesocomic]

I find Nothing's immediate attachment to Hover actually pretty realistic in a sad way.

She's been abused all her life, even before she was born into a society that told her she had little to no value to anyone because she was a female cub

Then she got injured defending herself and instead of protecting her her mother married the person who caused her disability and then put all the blame on her for being a child who was attacked.

Hover was the only person who wa remotely nice to her, of course she immediately fell for her eventhough Hover is terrible

She immediately attached herself to someone she thought was the one person who wouldn't treat her like her family did, and even when Hover treats her just as bad she still want sto be with her because Hover *has* to be different. Because if Hover treats her like nothing too, maybe that's just what she is

It's so depressingly realistic how Nothing jumps from bad familial relationship to bad romantic relationship

Like MP could've done something with that where it shows Nothing going from an abusive mom to an abusive partner and thinking that partner treats her better because she doesn't want to face reality or she just doesn't know how bad this is and only realizes when she meets someone else who does treat her right and she reflects on how awful Hover was(yknow with her meeting new friends she goddammit she deserves a healthy friendgroup who doesn't mistreat her or downplay the abuse she's faced)

Because Hover is just awful

But instead of addressing this very real thing victims of abuse go through with how people like Hover who jump at you for any mistake you make will 100% turn their back on you when you need their help because you didn't do what they want

They instead make it that Hover was just angwy guys :c and Nothing made mistakes too!

Ignore the fact that she left her disabled girlfriend to fight a bigger lion to defend her brother AFTER she just got berated by her mother for being disabled(Hover was too busy picking her nose to defend the supposed love of her life), only to then ALSO berate Nothing for missing her assessment while Nothing's life was just threatened, she was verbally abused, and her brother is in danger, AND HOVER DID NOTHING

but priorities

It's just

So scarily realistic how Nothing sought safety and love from a partner and she ended up with someone like Hover

And she was literally never treated with any kindness ever that she doesn't even know what it looks like anymore

I actually touched upon this in the other ask regarding Nothing x Hover where I said that Nothing appears to be emotionally vulnerable and needy in this situation and I was absolutely not giving the show kudos or leeway by saying that.

The bottom line is that folks like you and me care more about how these characters came across or could potentially come across than Tribble herself ever did.

Like you say, it would've been an ideal thing to show that Nothing is supposed to be in this vulnerable position with Hover. But the sickening thing is that the relationship is sold as being very healthy and wholesome to the point where there's a shit-ton of ship art out there where they're being just that.

Not to mention Hover wasn't even nice to her. She was what an able-bodied individual's perception of being nice to a disabled person is... which is asking intrusive questions about our disabilities, making jokes at the expense of our disabilities... You get the idea.

But yeah, I agree with all this and it just further solidifies why Nothing's relationship with Hover was very one-sided and abusive.

It could also be argued that Hover was also very used to only thinking about herself and nobody else as a prideless lion, hence why she chose to go off with Farleap and Silentstalk. Because they could offer what she felt Nothing could not, which were cheat codes to get through the huntress assessment.

But Hover fans like to pretend this didn't happen, of course. Along with everything else you've pointed out. Trust me, we've been there. It's certainly a group of stans that love to cherry-pick and ignore blatant evidence that their fave is problematic. lol - RJ

[nerdraging4point0]

Scorpion and the Scales // Chapter Fourteen // A MIW/Bad Omens PolyAU

Tropes and Tags: why choose romance, MF, MFM, MFMM, MM, instalove, too much sex, tattooed musicians, polyverse, friends to lovers.

Content warning: 18+ only minors DNI. PinV, PinA, oral (f!recieveing, m!recieving), threesomes, light BDSM, voyeurism, exhibitionism, partner sharing, jealousy, angst.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

Taglist (see MP to be added): @ladyveronikawrites @synthetic-wasp-570 @beaker1636 @thesazzb @itsjustemily @vinyardmauro @circle-with-me @tearfallpixie @poisongirl616 @shilohrosechicken @th0ughts-pr4yers @meliferafaerie @letmeadoreyoux @latenightmusiclover @transparentwitchnightmare @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @emofangirl02 @rumoured-whispers @somebodyels3 @jakeygvf21 @dominuslunae @sunsshinesunny @jilliemiw86 @h0rr0rqu3en @yournecessaryevil @bloody-delusion-expert @mortallyuniquepeach @missduffsblog

Chris’s POV

The energy of the venue still pulsed through the air, the thunderous beats and roaring crowd leaving a lingering ringing in my ears. As the masses slowly filed out, the floor was left littered with the remnants of the night's festivities - discarded solo cups, shimmering confetti, and the occasional lost earring or bracelet. Meanwhile, the crew was methodically disassembling the technical equipment that had brought the stage to life, carefully packing it all away onto the trailer to be transported back to the warehouse.

Yet in the midst of this bustling post-show activity, we three had sequestered ourselves in a darkened corner, lost in our own private reverie. Sweaty and flushed, I struggled to push back the long tail of my shirt, desperate to get a better view as my rock-hard cock disappeared into the warmth of my girlfriend Eve's pussy. Balancing precariously atop the stacked storage boxes, I threw my hat on backwards, Eve straddling my lap with her short black dress bunched up around her hips, the fishnets that covered her shapely legs torn to provide unimpeded access.

Standing behind her driving into her ass was Rick, sandwiching our girlfriend between us, his dark hair falling in his eyes as his lips kissed her neck and hands roamed up her torso to cup her breasts through her dress.

I fumbled in the dimly lit space, my fingers instinctively reaching for the familiar outline of my phone in my pocket, I could barely maintain my grip on the device as the scene unfolded before me. Eve was bouncing rhythmically on my throbbing cock, her movements perfectly synchronized with Rick's powerful thrusts. Watching their bodies intertwine, I was transfixed - the way Eve's hair cascaded over her face, the way Rick's chiseled cheeks puffed out as he exhaled sharply, pushing the stray strands away from his eyes. The sight was utterly captivating, and despite my best efforts to maintain composure, I couldn't resist the urge to capture a quick snapshot, the camera shutter clicking discreetly.

A sly grin spread across my face as I typed out a message, my fingers trembling slightly with excitement. But just as I was basking in the thrill of my voyeuristic exploits, Rick's seductive drawl snapped me back to attention. 

"Are we boring you, Chris?" he purred, his hips never missing a beat as he drove into Eve with renewed fervor, eliciting a guttural moan from her open, panting mouth. Reflexively, I bucked my hips to meet his rhythm, the sensation nearly causing me to climax then and there. Eve's voice rang out, her scream echoing in the confined space, but Rick quickly covered her mouth with a large hand, muffling the sound. 

"Now, now, babygirl," he admonished, his tone laced with a hint of warning. "You wanna get us caught?"

She shook her head, her eyes bulging wide with a mix of desperation and vulnerability. She looked absolutely captivating, drawing us in with a raw, primal allure that was impossible to resist. In that moment, I couldn't believe my luck. We moved quickly chasing the release till both of us were spilling inside her. I pulled my pants back up, hastily securing them just as a few crew members were walking by. I let out a sigh of relief when neither of them turned our way, suddenly jumping when Eve placed a hand on my chest. 

“Anything?” she asked in a hushed tone. 

I pulled out my phone, scanning the text and re-reading the message I had sent, my heart sinking as I shook my head, struggling to keep the corners of my mouth from betraying my disappointment. Her eyes immediately went downcast, the glistening of tears betraying the depth of her anguish, and I watched helplessly as she turned to Rick, who swiftly tucked her under his arm, the two of them making their way out of the venue.

We had known when he left on tour that it would be difficult, that the distance and time apart would be challenging, but nothing could have prepared us for just how much we would miss him. For the first couple of weeks, he had kept in touch faithfully, texting the group chat multiple times a day, sharing updates and photos from the road. But slowly, gradually, the messages had become less frequent - down to just once a day, and then, after a week had passed with complete silence, the worry and dread began to set in. 

I didn't want to jump to conclusions, didn't want to believe the worst, but deep down I knew what this prolonged lack of contact likely meant. He was pulling away, creating distance, and my heart clenched painfully at the realization. 

 The past month had been a whirlwind of change and uncertainty for all of us, including Rick. After his first date with Eve, he found himself unsure of exactly where he stood with her - was he her boyfriend? Her partner? Her casual fling? The poor girl had to spell it out for him, clarifying the nature of their relationship as he slowly and hesitantly took on the role of her boyfriend. Rick struggled with the confusion of not being Eve's one and only, having to come to terms with the fact that he was sharing her with Noah and I. But as the weeks progressed, he gradually grew more comfortable, even embracing the position of neutral mediator. It was a refreshing change of pace for Rick, who relished the opportunity to provide a calm, levelheaded presence amidst the emotional ups and downs. 

Then, just before Noah left for a big tour, everything shifted again. I spent a few intense days with the two of them in Los Angeles, and the experience seemed to alter the very foundation of our unconventional relationship.

I was off doing a podcast while Eve spent some alone time with Noah, flying in just two days before he left. We’d used the restraints from Noah’s secret box a few times together, this time she was tied down by her wrists and ankles secured by soft red rope to each leg of Noahs bed. Noah and I happily lying between her parted legs.

Not sure if it was just the fact that our tongues kept gliding past one another, or the stolen glances between us, or maybe it was that stupidly well placed golden grill he’d put in his mouth beforehand; whatever it was I was flawlessly lost in it all. So when our tongues slid past one another again-I wasn’t sure who moved first- but soon our tongues were mingling with each other, pushing into one another's mouths with some fire I hadn’t known I could feel. 

 We didn’t really bring it up much afterwards, Noah and I hadn’t discussed it completely, but the way I teased him told me he didn’t seem to openly object.

Rick and I took turns showering at the venue before we all piled back on the bus. It seemed weird to use a bus for a three night sold out show. But we were nothing if not consistent when working.

With it being our last night, most of the crew were taking the next flight out in the morning, opting for a hotel instead of being on the road with us. It was just the three of us, Vinny, and a few crew members who'd all retired to the back of the bus by the time we were on the freeway.

“Has anyone tried calling him?” Rick sat on the couch across from us, Eve’s head in his lap as he twirled one of her long curled strands around his finger. Her eyes drooping as she fought to stay awake.

“A couple times,” she mumbled as sleep started to melt into her body.

“He’s always texting that he is sorry he missed the call. Usually after she is asleep. I wait up and try calling back but it goes straight to voicemail.” 

I glanced down at my phone once more, the text I had sent to Noah earlier that evening stared back at me, the delivery status updated to "read" nearly half an hour after we had already set out on the road. A sinking feeling began to settle in the pit of my stomach, and I couldn't bring myself to mention it to the others.

 "Is it me?" Rick asked suddenly, his brow furrowed with concern. I simply shook my head, trying to push down the growing sense of unease. It couldn't be something I had done - Noah was always so reliable, so quick to respond. Surely, if I had done something to upset him, he would have said something by now.

My guitarist's next words, however, caught me off guard. "Was it the kiss?" he inquired, one perfectly groomed eyebrow raising in my direction. I snapped my head up, staring at him in shock. How on earth could he have known about that? My eyes quickly darted to Eve, who was fast asleep in his lap, oblivious to the conversation unfolding. If her word alone wasn't enough to confirm the truth, the telltale blush I felt creeping across my cheeks gave Rick all the answer he needed.

Noah’s POV

As I sat at the makeshift dining room table, the surface was cluttered with a jumble of scrawled notepads, each one filled with a scattered mess of lyrics and half-formed ideas. Fragments of melodies and phrases were scrawled haphazardly across the pages, some lines crossed out while others were circled or connected with arrows, the disorganized chaos taking up nearly every inch of the paper. It was the disjointed, frenzied creative process laid bare - the struggle to capture the elusive spark of inspiration and mold it into something coherent. In the midst of this lyrical battlefield, I found myself lost, sifting through the wreckage of my own thoughts, searching for the seeds of a song that had yet to fully blossom.

Several nights before we headed out the band and crew threw a small party for the upcoming sold-out European tour. As I watched my girlfriend effortlessly converse and bond with my bandmates, I found myself mesmerized, unable to take my eyes off of her all evening. 

The guys couldn't resist teasing me, playfully insisting that I was clearly in love, though I brushed off their comments at the time. But deep down, I knew they were right - the undeniable connection with Eve had blossomed into something far deeper than a casual fling.

Later that night, as she straddled my lap I was suddenly overcome with a profound realization. In that moment, with her legs wrapped around me and our breath mingling together, the words I had been holding back for so long came spilling out. "I love you," the confession like fire on my tongue, the vulnerability betraying the weight of those three little words. It wasn't the most conventional time or setting to make such a declaration, but with her skin against mine and our heartbeats in sync, it felt like the only appropriate time.

So what was the problem?

I couldn't believe I had allowed myself to become entangled like this, emotions that I knew deep down would only lead to heartbreak in the end. What was worse? It wasn’t just her I had feelings for. 

When Chris arrived at my door, we took off immediately to my room. I’m not sure where my head was at, where I'd gotten the idea or what possessed me. But the way her juices glistened off his lips, and the sounds he was making-I was so close I could see the three scars of his previous piercings on his bottom lip- I lost control. I leaned in, capturing his lips with my own. He hesitated at first but I was persistent, my tongue cleaning all of Eve off his still closed lips, but then he relaxed, opening his mouth to let our tongues mingle together. 

I’m not sure if it was feelings or just lust but he was driving me just as insane as her, the smell of him, the taste of him. I was a man being driven mad.  Then the way he looked standing in my kitchen as I finished packing my shit, seeing him lean against the counter with his arms crossed in his nike joggers and t shirt. His hair grown out, dark roots with lilac tips, every so often I’d catch his hands running through it to keep the strands out of his eyes. 

I couldn't quite put my finger on whether it was genuine feelings or a more primal, carnal lust - all I knew was that this man was driving me just as insane as Eve does. There was something about his scent, a subtle yet alluring blend of cologne and something innately masculine, that sent tingles down my spine every time it wafted past. And the taste of him, the memory of those lips against my own, haunted me. 

The incessant buzzing of my phone on the table sent a jolt of dread through me. Pulling me from the constant replay of my memories. I knew exactly who it was from - one of them, the people who had slowly been tearing my world apart. For a few agonizing minutes, I tried to resist the urge to look, to bury my head in the sand and pretend I hadn't seen it. But the pull was too strong. With a trembling hand, I finally flipped open the screen, my eyes immediately drawn to the image that filled the display. There was Chris with Eve - straddling his lap, her thighs cradling his hips as his hands gripped them possessively. Hovering above them, hands firmly grasping Eve's waist to hold her in place, were a set of familiar, heavily-inked fingers. Fingers I had only ever seen in photos. Seeing them there, intertwined with their bodies and me not there, it felt like a punch to the gut, stealing the breath from my lungs. 

The text beneath the delicious image making my heart flutter.

Room for one more baby 😘

After that fateful kiss, he had taken to playfully teasing me with affectionate pet names and gently ruffling my hair, the terms of endearment continuing as we texted back and forth in the following days. At first, I had simply played along, not thinking much of it. But as time went on, I gradually found myself becoming more and more drawn into the idea of being his "baby" - the way the words rolled off his tongue, the underlying intimacy they implied, it all started to slowly chip away at my carefully-constructed defenses. 

Somewhere deep down, I could feel myself beginning to melt and surrender to these new feelings, allowing myself to be enveloped by the sense of belonging and security that his affections seemed to promise. Yet just as quickly, my own stubborn pride and need for control would reassert itself, reminding me that I was the one in charge here - no one took possession of my heart without my explicit permission. I was the king of my own castle, after all, answerable to no one. But the truth was, they already had - my traitorous heart had betrayed me, opening itself up against my will. Feeling a surge of panic at this loss of autonomy, I did what came most naturally to me in times of vulnerability-I ran.

“Alright guys,” Matt's voice broke the silence,  dragging me out of my thoughts, glancing up I saw him gathering the band around the kitchen. Jolly was still half asleep drinking his coffee as Nick and Folio rubbed the exhaustion from their eyes. “I got an email about a festival in Vegas, they want a response by next week-since we will be back state side to turn in the new live recordings it would be best for me to meet with them if we plan to go through with the festival. I guess, bottom line, who votes for the festival?”

“Book it.” my voice was harsher than I had intended. The other band members whipped their heads around to look at me, surprised by the abrupt answer. 

Jolly paused, mouth hanging open, “Noah, you sure?” 

“We’ve been going non stop, i’m not sure how much more we could take,” Nicholas argued. I only shrugged my shoulders, whatever they wanted, but I knew I wanted to stay busy. 

"If Noah is on board, I guess so am I," Nicholas said halfheartedly, his tone conveying a clear lack of enthusiasm. I glanced up from my work, peering at the group through my lashes, and saw the rest of the guys nodding along in agreement. With a final, fleeting glance towards Matt,  I could see the resolution forming on his face - this was happening, regardless of any reservations. Bowing my head, I returned my focus to the task at hand.

[toms-cherry-trees]

Hello Mars!! Congratulations for your 1.5K followers celebration 🎉 I hope you get many many more! 🤗 and more stories!

To celebrate can I request a blurb with this gif?

(Fluff) I love a rare Tommy Shelby smile 😊 😉 ♥️

Congrats once more!! *hype* also could you add me to your Tommy tag list? xx

Tommy smiles are so rare we ought to cherish them 🥺🥺

Also I will add you to the tag list! Thanks for the request darling!

Mars 1.5K Celebration

Laugh || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Hunting, some war PTSD, because fluff with me is never 100% fluff

Raucous laughter booms through the stillness of the forest, mixing in with the cacophony made by the lurking animals who are surely hiding not so far from you, all of them driven off by the heat and light of your bonfire. In the background you hear the gentle gurgle of a nearby stream from where you obtained water for the mint tea now warming your hands and your belly. You are swathed in an old woollen blanket of dark green hues, already frayed and thinned out by time. Tommy sits across from you on a log, cigarette hanging from his lips as he entertains you with stories of his childhood, enacting the best parts for you with dramatic motions of his hands. 

“And how much did you pay John to eat a pound of raw onions?” You inquire once more, half of the story having been lost between your laughs.

“Not enough for the stomach ache he got. His breath reeked for days” Tommy’s laugh is such a rare occurrence you have forgotten how beautiful it is. Deep and throaty, shaking his shoulders and pulling his lips into a grin. His eyes shine brighter and his features soften, jaw no longer clenched tight and brow relaxed. The only thing that remains of the old Tommy, the only part of himself not tainted and poisoned is his laugh. And you cherish every little instance you get to hear it.

When Tommy said you two were going out to camp, you thought he had lost his mind. Sure, camping out had been a big part of your youth but now, both in your 30s, three children and a lot of responsibilities under your wing, the idea seemed derisory. Yet you didn’t regret one bit coming out with him into the forest, still safely within the lands surrounding Arrow House. You knew if you had allowed, he would have taken you out on the road to God knows where, but you felt safer close to the house and your kids.

“What do you think the other MPs would say if they saw you, mighty Tommy Shelby OBE, with mud up to your knees and gathering twigs to light a fire?”

Tommy flicks his cigarette stub into the fire and comes to sit next to you, his strong arm circling your shoulders “I am sure my fellow MPs would be very appreciative of my extensive efforts to understand better the lives of the common people”

“Because surely the common people of South Birmingham sleep in vardos under the stars and hunt rabbits for supper” A teasing smile tugs at your lips, leaning your head back on his shoulder so you can observe his features. His cheeks are flushed from cold, despite the warmth of your body and the flames, and his breath comes out in faint puffs of mist. You press your tin mug into his hands, noticing the way he stretches his stiffened fingers. Silence has befallen you, and for long minutes you two dwell on the moment, the embrace, and the so welcomed break of the routine. 

“It’s been ten years” He whispers quietly, swirling the drink in his hand before taking a sip

“I know” Is the only reply that you can muster, instinctively scooting closer to his frame until your head is tucked under his jaw, his hand laced with yours and you tracing circles on the back with your thumb. He inhales deeply the scent of your hair, chin perched on top of your hair. Physically he is hugging you, but his brain is in a far away land. 

Ten years. A whole decade. The anniversary of the day he returned home from France, beaten and bruised and underfed and scared, even if he would never admit it. Even if your affection and devotion had nursed the physical damage, some wounds could never be treated nor healed, and remained gaping and bleeding in a place only he could reach. A place that only belonged to him, and of which you were only allowed frightful glimpses every time his demeanour broke into fits of unbridled rage, or when he would awake you in the dead of the night, fingers clinging to your nightgown and feverish kisses to your skin because they are there, the Germans are coming, the shovels are on the wall and you are the only anchor he has to steady himself against the storm brewing inside his brain. 

“Sometimes I wonder if-”

“No. Don’t wonder. It is all in the past and it no longer matters” You are quick to interrupt him, knowing where his thoughts are heading. Never before you thought you would hear terms such as shell shock or survivor’s guilt, but once you learned about them, they made perfect sense. When things got dark, Tommy pondered over the what ifs of life. What if he had not returned, and instead another boy had made it home; a boy who did not put his family in danger, a boy who protected his loved ones and did good to others, instead of carrying guns up his sleeve and knives in his heart. Tommy always said boy instead of man; another of his tactics of self-flagellation, derived from all the fresh-faced kids who boarded the train with him, and how little of them made the journey back.

You know you have to pull him out of his trance before he sinks too deep into his black waves, and you can only think of one way how. Your fingers slowly trace patterns above his heart, sliding down in progressively wider circles until you find that ticklish spot between his ribs and dig deep, forcing a startled laughter from his lips. All of a sudden Tommy is on the ground, your weight pinning his legs as you continue your assault, thumbs digging under his ribcage and stealing the breath from his lungs in forced waves of laughter, all of while he struggles to smack your hands away, his body writhing under your and staining his shirt with green from the grass. After several tortuous minutes he manages to grab your wrists in his grasp and pulls both of your hands to a halt, drawing in heavy breaths as the joyous sounds slowly fade away. 

“You are terrible sometimes” He growls, pulling you close by the wrists so your body topples over his, keeping your arms pinned between your bodies as his arms circle your waist. His heartbeat remains frantic and his cheeks are as red as ripe apples. 

“And yet you decided to marry me” Your lips hover inches above his, both of you sporting relaxed smiles. His eyes seem brighter than ever, almost innocent. You see through the vines encircling his soul the traces of the young lad he used to be, peeking out through gentle moments like this. 

“Terrible decision on my behalf”

“Terrible indeed” You mock, a soft laugh escaping you as you wiggle free from his grasp enough to accommodate yourself so you are straddling his abdomen, knees on either side of him. His hands naturally rest on the curve of your hip to keep you steady, features brimming with adoration for the wife that keeps him grounded and steady. Without you he would be like a boat without moorings, drifting into the abysm. 

You lean in for a kiss tantalisingly slow, while Tommy lifts his torso to meet you halfway. Right before your lips touch, your fingers are back on his ribs, stealing laughs from his throat and flutters from his heart. 

[bethanydelleman]

Which JA book would you overlap with MP so Fanny could meet the characters within it?

I started a story where Fanny went to live with the Morlands instead of the Bertrams, because I think Catherine Morland and Fanny Price would be a dream team and they perfectly compliment each other's personalities. Catherine would be so sweet and kind to Fanny and Fanny would help her understand the world better. Fanny would see through Isabella in a heartbeat.

I also started a story where Fanny Price and Elizabeth Bennet swap bodies and then Elizabeth comes to rescue Fanny once they swap back because she cannot stand how the Bertrams treat her.

I've also mentioned before that Marianne Dashwood and Fanny Price would have the best time reading poetry together. Also Fanny Price and Captain Benwick...

So... every other novel except Emma I guess?