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#but he also kinda makes sense even if he isn’t always right
onceuponaneverafter · 8 months
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It's hard to get through Ouabh series when Jacks is focused on another girl. And the whole series is kinda about that. Also In Caraval, Jacks seems more caring and affectionate towards Tella than Evangeline. He's rude to Evangeline and yeah he may protect her but doesn’t he protect her because he needs her as a key to go back to Tella. And With the ending of Tbona, using the stones to save Evangeline, wasn't he already going to rewrite history by going back to Tella? I see people say that he went back in time to save Evangeline knowing the consequences but wasn’t he already going to do that for Tella?
hi anon! thank you for sending your thoughts! you make good points, and i agree, it does get frustrating to read about how focused he is on tella.
i personally look at his actions through the lens of his story, his feelings, and his beliefs - it isn’t a flawless perspective to the story and i’m not saying he’s always in the right, he certainly does make flawed decisions and downright terrible ones too, but i’ve found it interesting to try to understand what’s going on in his head even if it makes him do stupid things and clouds his reason.
basically since he kissed tella and she didn’t die, he’s been convinced that she’s the only chance he will ever have at love - he doesn’t genuinely love her at any point, but for the entirety of the series (except for the very very end) he thinks he could only ever be a danger to any other girl and it would be better to stay away from anyone else for their safety, no matter what. thanks to his curse, tella becomes his obsession.
after tella makes it clear she wants nothing to do with him (which she has every right to do), he believes he will never have another chance at love and is ready to go to unreasonable lengths - going back in time - to get one. i think that once he grows to care about evangeline, he still isn’t particularly nice to her and wants to only care about her as a key because he thinks that if he actually let her close, he would just be a danger to her, and he thinks she’s better off not knowing him, and he thinks he’s better off trying again with the one girl who didn’t die.
you make a good point of jacks being willing to go back in time for tella no matter the consequences! i think the difference is that he’d be originally going back in time for the idea of love instead of tella herself, to get something he wants instead of for her happiness, but he’s grown to value evangeline over all of his previous plans and something he desperately wants. this is why people (including me) talk about it! him having grown to really care for evangeline and put her first is highlighted a lot in ACFTL (though he doesn’t always go about it in the best way there, still making some stupid decisions, but that’s another conversation for another day haha).
sorry the post ended up so long! this is just my thoughts on the topic and some thoughts on why the fandom talks about him as we do - his thought process doesn’t necessarily justify how he acts sometimes, but this way it makes more sense to me, making the story about him growing to genuinely care for someone else and realizing the difference between obsession and love.
thank you again for your thoughts, i hope you have a good day! 💗
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luveline · 5 months
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Hiii!! Could I request a bombshell reader x Spencer where someone (a local police maybe) says something rude to her about her appearance or something and normally it doesn’t really get to her, but something snaps and she kinda shuts down/is rude to Spencer until he coaxes it out of her? Sorry it’s long I had an idea and ran w it loollll
ty for requesting angel! confident fem!reader, 1k
Spencer shouldn’t expect his colleague to hold his hand, especially one so confident. What sense would that make, a woman as established as you are, who smiles without a lick of worry nor smugness, wanting to hold his hand? 
But you do it all the time, is the thing. In the car on the way to crime scenes, in the hallways of the office, under the round table. It started as a tethering for his distractedness, when one day he’d wanted to talk but hadn’t had the presence of mind to walk at the same time, so you’d taken his hand and led him to the office. You’ve been taking it at your discretion ever since.  
Spencer knows something is wrong —you haven’t tried to hold his hand all day. And even if you aren’t interested in him romantically, Spencer has come to crave the touch. He’ll accept platonic hand holding. Anything, really. 
“You’re staring very deeply, Dr. Reid,” you mutter, shades from your usual lightness. 
“I’m thinking.” 
“Aren’t you always?” 
“About you.”
“Well,” you smile fleetingly. “You should always be thinking about me.” 
“You’re truly humble.” 
His joke doesn’t land, it crashes and burns; your smile fades completely into a short, sharp line. Your gaze moves back into the restaurant, waiting for the team's food order in silence once again. 
Spencer’s pinky finger twitches across the gap. 
“Is everything okay?” he asks. 
“Fine.” 
You stay quiet, Spencer worries. He takes the bags before you can when they bring your food to the collection desk, two lumps of heat he holds to his thighs as you begin the walk back to the hotel. Tonight, the team will pick at their food together and rehash the same arguments they’ve been making all day, filling in each other's gaps, and tomorrow the work will start again. He can’t have you this unhappy again tomorrow. 
“You’re amazing,” he says, watching you turn to him from the corner of his eye, “you know you are, we all do, everyone who meets you. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, or to feel better, but… I’m here for you. If you want to talk. It’s been a hard couple of days, and talking about traumatic events as they happen and directly afterward make them easier to recover from.” 
“I’m not traumatised.” 
“Upsetting,” he corrects. “Having a shoulder to cry on is good for you, and I can be that shoulder. You know, if you need me to be.” 
He can’t know this in the moment, though maybe one day you’ll tell him, further down the line when the hand holding is better defined, but you look at him and you love him. To know Spencer is to love him. Or at least that’s how you’ve always felt. You’d love to cry on his shoulder about what transpired that morning if it weren’t embarrassing to think about, you’re upset over a throwaway comment made by nobody important. 
Spencer offers his company earnestly. He stammers. It’s amazingly sincere, as he usually is. He won’t mind if it’s embarrassing, he’ll just listen. 
You clear your throat. “I know I’m not to everyone’s taste. I know that the way I… present myself isn’t what most men like. People love confidence, but not when it’s bossy, not when it’s– when it’s vain. And I am vain. I think about my appearance a lot, I think I’m beautiful most of the time, I try so hard to have that be true.” You eye him thoughtfully. “Do you realise that?” 
He shakes his head gently, one ear toward one shoulder and then the other, as though balancing. “Sort of. I know you put effort into your appearance, but I also assume a lot of it to be natural.” 
“Right, well. It’s not natural. Not really. My natural beauty wouldn’t be all the beautiful to most people. And I’ve accepted that, I know what I like about myself, and–” You’re losing the thread of your point, an upset creeping into your melodic tone and turning it ragged. “When people tell me they don’t like how I look now, I guess it hurts because I know they wouldn’t like me before, either, and I feel defeated because I know I can’t win.” 
“Who said they don’t like how you look?” Spencer asks, confused, on his way to annoyed. 
“Officer Friendly.” You look to your shoes, watching the steps you take. “Guess he wasn’t as nice as we thought.” 
“What did he say to you?” 
You shrug. “Same story. He doesn’t like girls who wear makeup. Doesn’t like uppity women.” 
“Did he call you that?” 
“What are you gonna do if he did?” you ask without malice. 
“Morgan’s teaching me self defence for a reason.” You smile at his light joke, though it doesn’t last. He transfers the takeout bags into one hand, the other held out to you, his fingers sliding down your arm to your wrist. “You know you’re beautiful, with or without makeup. And you’re not uppity, you’re out of his league. There’s a difference.” 
“You’re flirting with me.” 
“No.” He wishes he had the wherewithal sometimes, but this isn’t flirting. “I’m being honest with you. Men like that don’t like you because they know they’ll never, ever have you, or anyone like you. There isn’t anyone like you,” he adds, sliding his hand into yours. 
He squeezes all your fingers together twice in quick succession. 
“Don’t let a jealous chauvinist halfwit make you think you’re not good enough,” he says. 
You curl your fingers around his before he can take his hand back. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. Then, smiling, you let him go. 
“I’ve never heard you say something mean like that,” you say. “Halfwit. That’s crass.” 
“I was going to say he’s an asshole, if that’s better.” 
Your laugh echoes off of the sidewalk. ��That’s perfect. Say something meaner.” 
The insult he uses next doesn’t bear repeating. 
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miraclewoozi · 5 months
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SPECTACLE. -j.ww
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in which your new boyfriend, wonwoo, doesn't give a crap about his expensive eyewear.
pairing : wonwoo x fem!reader. content : smut. pwp. tags under the cut. MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT. w/c : 2.7k. notes : yeah i kinda. went insane over this idea. so. bon appetite to you, and also to wonwoo ? i guess.
content + smut tags : established - but new - relationship. making out. FACE SITTING. impact play? (one gentle butt slap). the shenanigans are on a couch if that matters, i don't know. reader is a little shy about doing it. PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything.
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Wonwoo looks flushed when he pulls away from where he’s been kissing and nipping at the side of your neck, hair stuck up in every direction thanks to your tugging fingers and your gentle guidance to help him find your sweet spots. His lips are pink and a little plumped. His glasses are steaming up, sitting halfway down the bridge of his nose, and every slightly heavier breath he takes makes his broad chest rise and fall where it’s pressed wholly against yours.
You can’t help yourself from leaning forward into another kiss; he’s completely irresistible. Maybe the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. And while this isn’t really news to you, the dynamic of your relationship with him shifted a month or so ago and you’re still getting used to the privilege of seeing him this close up. 
He’s still adjusting too, if the way he groans directly into your mouth, hands groping harder at the curve of your ass as you shuffle in his lap is anything to judge by. Still learning, still figuring you out. But – and this is how you know what you’re building here might be the real deal – even when it’s clumsy, and when you knock teeth while you’re kissing and burst into slightly pained giggles, or when things accidentally slip out of place while you’re getting steamy… everything Wonwoo does makes your spine tingle. Makes your stomach flip. Makes your core throb. 
Even when it doesn’t always work? It makes sense, and it’s perfect, and losing yourself in the way his lips caress and worship yours is so damn easy when he murmurs your praises just for letting him do this in the first place.
“Will you do something for me?” He asks after a small forever, pulling back just far enough that he's not breathing up your nose. His hands have made their way under your – his – hoodie now and he’s grazing his fingers over your ribs, tickling enough to make you whimper, not enough for you to want to swat him away.
You think you’d give him the world if he asked for it in that deep, rough voice he adopts when things start heading in this direction. The moon too. Shit, if you could get a lasso around the sun and bring it closer to keep him warm, you’d do that as well. So, whatever his little request is now, you know you’re going to agree; resting your hands on his shoulders (finally leaving his gorgeous hair alone), you lean back from him and nod your head.
“Anything,” you say. You’re certain that you feel his cock twitch in his sweatpants where it’s pressed against the inside of your thigh, but you’re not quite sure why. 
It makes you feel hot, though. More-so when he bites back a grin, lips curling in that adorable way. It feels greatly unfair that you can’t swoop down right this second to kiss him again, and again, and again; as painful as it is though, you do exercise enough grace to wait for him to come out with it.
“Get up,” he says softly, dropping his hands down your sides and squeezing at your hips once. 
You do as he asks and move off his lap, sitting on the other side of the couch; he doesn’t say anything else as he stands up himself, pulls his hoodie off over his head and tosses it to one side before sinking all the way down to the floor. You raise an eyebrow at him, but he doesn’t see you. He shuffles into place with his back against the edge of the seat and only once he’s comfortable does he turn to look at you over one shoulder, grinning brilliantly.
“Okay,” he says, bending his knees and planting his heels into the floor. “Come here.”
You stand up off the cushions now and look down at him for a second, wondering what on Earth is going through his mind, but you know better than to start questioning his strange ideas. Especially when he’s in this sort of a mood. You step over him, one foot either side of his hips, and start to drop down too, but he puts a hand on each of your knees and stops you before you’re in his lap once again.
“No,” Wonwoo says, shaking his head. His hands then make their way to the backs of your thighs and he pushes forwards, trying to guide you where he wants you. Your knees bend of their own accord and press against the couch on both sides of his head. “Like this.”
You don’t exactly freeze up, but it is as if you forget how to control all of your muscles for a second. The ones in your legs seem to turn to jelly and you know it’s only because the sofa is currently taking a portion of your weight that you don’t buckle completely and fall onto the top of his head. The ones in your face give you a slack-jawed, wide-eyed, unblinking expression. 
Your abdominal muscles tighten and your cunt flutters at what you’re sure he’s trying to suggest, the rush of wetness you feel only worsened by the intensity in his eyes as he tips his head back and looks at you.
“Please?” He asks, all sweet but deep and rough at the same time. 
“Are you s–?” You start to ask. 
Wonwoo clicks his tongue at you and tries to encourage you further onto the couch to prove his point. “Yes,” he says, nodding eagerly. 
And then, just so you really can’t mistake what he's asking for–
“I want you to sit on my face.”
Your entire body heats up at how bluntly he says it. You squeeze your eyes shut and bite the inside of your cheek so that you don’t accidentally laugh with the nerves already trying to burst out of your tummy. 
It’s not that you don’t want to. If you had a penny for every time you’d thought about him giving himself up for your pleasure this way, you’d be rich. You do. You’re going a little crazy just imagining how good it’s going to feel. 
It’s just that him being so bold about it has you feeling shy, and that’s never happened to you before. You’re at a loss. You’re totally stumped.
When you open your eyes again and look down at him, Wonwoo is just as earnest and hungry for you as he was a few seconds ago. If anything, it’s as if he wants it more. It’s without a doubt the hottest thing you’ve ever seen and before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re nodding at him; his fingers start to drag up and down the backs of your thighs happily, before they hook under the waistband of your shorts and gently make that first little pull.
“If you don’t like it, we can stop,” he says to you, only pulling them all the way down when you start to help him. They get tossed over to the side to join his hoodie after you step out of them. His eyes glance to the panties you’re wearing – the last barrier, the final thing keeping him from what he’s so desperate for – before he looks back at your face and flashes you a smile. “Just tell me, okay?”
“It’s not that,” you laugh softly, taking off your own jumper and throwing it onto the pile. Wonwoo groans at the sight of you; you roll your eyes at him. “You just… took me by surprise.”
“Good,” he sighs, wrapping an arm around one of your legs and letting you settle onto your knees in position over his mouth, pressing his fingers into the top of your thigh. 
The first soft press of his lips over your panties makes you gasp and you hold a little tighter onto the back cushions as you look down at him. His eyes are closed already as he breathes your heady scent in, deep enough to hopefully stain his lungs, enough that he’ll never get rid of it, that he’ll be able to carry you everywhere he goes. 
But Wonwoo’s closed eyes aren’t the only thing you notice between your thighs and a soft laugh replaces the pleased sounds already spilling from your lips. One hand drops down to where he's settled and your fingers brush against his temple as they try to pinch at one side of his glasses. He looks affronted when he catches your gaze.
“What’re you doing?” He asks, gently moving your hand away. 
You tilt your head at him. “Your glasses,” you prompt, moving to reach for them again. His fingers curl around your wrist and he shoves your hand into his hair instead, rubbing the tip of his nose against the inside of your thigh.
“I want to keep them on,” he tells you.
“What if they break?”
“Don’t care,” he hums, kissing his way back towards your covered pussy. “I’ll buy a new pair. I just wanna see you.”
You swallow at this and decide that you’re definitely not going to try and change his mind, instead choosing to tilt your head back and let his skilled tongue work you up through your underwear. It’s a mess of arousal and spit and they’re soaked, translucent, clinging to you by the time he’s frustrated with them; frankly, so are you, and it's a relief when he concludes that enough is enough.
“Baby,” he groans as he pulls your underwear to one side and has to crane his neck up to lick the flat of his tongue in a stripe up your slit. You whine, the cool air and his hot breaths a menacing mix of sensations, but you don’t have the sense to respond; one soft slap of his hand against your ass makes you look back down at him, though, and you’re met with dark eyes, flushed cheeks and a practically frenzied Wonwoo in the space between your hips. Your sweet, softly spoken boyfriend is nowhere to be found.
“I said, sit.”
His strong arm tugs you down and your knees slide against the cushions, bringing your pussy even closer to his face, literally forcing you to rest against his lips. He chuckles triumphantly and buries his tongue between your folds, tasting you so much more legitimately than before. The way he loves – straight from the source, the spring. You feel him prod at your hole and your walls clench around what he gives you – barely just the tip, but it’s enough to have you reeling already, and when his other arm hooks around your other thigh, when he starts to move you back and forth, you take very little convincing to start to rock your hips down against him on your own.
“Oh,” you whimper as his lips seal around your clit and he sucks at it once, giving a few experimental flicks of his tongue at the same time. The hand in his hair tightens immediately and Wonwoo groans with you still in his mouth, sending delicious vibrations through your sensitive nerves and making you gush onto his chin. 
“So fucking pretty like this,” he tells you, stroking his thumb over your waist. “Might be my new favourite view.”
He keeps lapping at you teasingly, testing circles and sideways motions, precise swipes, long drags; every subtle change as he tries to find what makes you scream in this position draws a different sound from your throat. He tenses the muscle and fucks your dribbling hole with it while encouraging you to move enough forward that his nose bumps against your clit with every jerky rock of your hips. You’re grinding faster, now, pressing down against his mouth harder, caring less by the second about whether his glasses are actually going to break in two. Besides, the way he drinks you down tells you that he could do this for a week straight without getting tired; he doesn’t want you to stop, or slow down, or ease up. He wants more. And if you’re too shy to give it to him, he’ll just take, take, take.
“Just– oh, fuck,” you gasp as his tongue finds your clit again and he laps at it with so much zeal that he could rival your favourite vibrator. “Just like that–”
Both of his hands grasp you tighter, squeezing and massaging and kneading at your soft skin as you chase your high on his pretty face. His eyes are tightly closed in his own rapture, and you hope that he won’t blame you for wanting him to open them; your hand pulls harshly at his hair again, hard enough to make him cringe, enough to make him stop for just a second before he sees how wound-up you look. You try to pull off from him a little, at least enough for him to catch a couple of breaths, but Wonwoo captures your pussy between his lips before you even hear him inhale.
“You– you wanted to s—see me,” you stutter out as the fire starts to catch and you feel warmth and ecstasy start to build at your core. “Fuck– ah–”
So he does. With big, hungry eyes, Wonwoo watches as you hurtle towards oblivion, as you writhe and squirm and grind down against his ardent mouth.
He sends you crashing over the edge with a wet sob, your own eyes closing now as you see stars in the darkness and ride your high out on his still-moving tongue. There are tears on your cheeks before you can do anything about it. Your walls spasm around nothing. He barely slows, taking back enough pressure so that your pleasure doesn’t turn to pain. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t even blink until you’re out the other side of your climax, though.
When your pants start to die down and you’re twitching to get away from him, so sensitive that even his tiny kisses make you shudder, Wonwoo drops his head back down to the pillows and wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. You don’t have the strength to move yet, still reeling, still too floaty to try for any level of coordination, but he doesn’t mind. Your swollen, glistening pussy right over his face is something he'd pay millions to see.
“Didn’t even break the glasses,” you laugh weakly once your voice decides to come back to you. 
“Mm,” Wonwoo hums, sliding them off his nose and inspecting them. He ‘tsk’s before putting them back on. They’re steamed at the edges and a little smeary now, and he surely can’t actually see that clearly through them. He obviously doesn’t care. “That’s not good enough.”
“Huh?” you ask, moving carefully so as not to plant your knee into his jaw but still trying to bring your legs together so that you can sit to one side. He isn't having it, though, and slowly shuffles up onto his knees, turns around to face you and lays his fingers on one of your ankles, wasting no time in trying to pry your legs apart again.
“That’s. Not. Good. Enough,” he repeats, using his other hand to palm himself over the fabric of his sweatpants. The tent in them would be comical if it weren’t for the animalistic look in his eyes; there’s nothing laughable about the way he’s looking at you right now, though.
“So what are we gonna do about it?” You ask, opening back up for him and not hiding how you stare as he rips his shirt off over his head. Then, he slides his fingertips up the inside of your calf, to your knee, down your thigh… he drags them over the lips of your pussy and collects a little of your slick on them before bringing his hand to his lips and sucking it clean.
“I’ve got a few ideas,” he tells you, groaning at your sweet taste as if he wasn’t just drowning in it a minute and a half ago. He lowers himself until he's once more level with your cunt and guides both of your legs over his shoulders, smirking up at your expectant face. “Maybe try to squeeze your thighs a little more this time. See if that does the trick.”
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thank you so much for reading!! i hope u enjoyed this hehe. as always, likes, reblogs, replies, feedback and asks are always super appreciated.<3
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ja3yun · 1 month
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Melting Point | Bonus Chapter
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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 🙏🏻
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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
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cursed-peanut · 2 months
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A/N: Hello everyoneeee!!! As promised, here is part 2 of Reunited!! I will be making more parts however it won’t be like a fic, more like a combination of scenarios, headcanons, etc. If you have any questions or thoughts on this AU, my ask box is always open and so are my comments. My taglist is also open! If you’d like to be added, lmk! Please make sure I can tag your account first though. May sound silly but I couldn’t tag some people because they had tagging disabled. If you were one of the people who asked to be tagged but wasn’t, please change that in Tumblr settings :) Anyway, this kinda gave yandereish vibes at the end??? If you want me to turn it into that or write a spin off where Sukuna is a Yandere for reader, lmk in the comments 💗 Anywho, happy reading and I hope you all enjoy this as much as you all did in part 1 <333
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“You are to be monitored by me at all times! If you get caught walking around by yourself well…I will either get an earful from the old hags at the top or they’ll have both of our heads, no in between!” Gojo Satoru tells you in a tone way too cheerful for what he was telling you.
“What? Why? I don’t even have any cursed energy, I’m just a regular human, I’m not some powerful sorcerer.”
“That is exactly why. We’re keeping your presence under the radar for now, but as soon as it inevitably slips out that you’re back and so is Sukuna, so will immediately become a target.”
“That’s not true. ‘Kuna may not be back to his full power, however he is still strong. No curses and sorcerer’s alike would dare hurt someone so close to the King of Curses.”
“While you may be right that he’s powerful even though Sukuna isn’t at his full potential, your ‘Kuna’ currently has the power of one of his fingers and is stuck in a fifteen year old boys body. He could easily be evaded by fellow special grade curses and curse users. Please realise this is for your safety.”
This doesn’t make sense to you. Yes, he’s not at his full power, but it’s not like you’ll be leaving Jujutsu Tech anyway. After all, you don’t go on missions, you’re not a Jujutsu Sorcerer and you will never have a chance to — not that you want to anyway. So logistically there is no need for your protection. Are they worried sorcerers might attack you? That’s surely a fault in the system of their schooling and society if they’re scared of that. Or maybe…they don’t trust you?
“They want me dead because of my relation to ‘Kuna, don’t they?” Gojo’s deafening silence answers your question. “Why?”
“Because they’re afraid that there’s a possibility you’re hiding a powerful technique from us. I personally don’t believe you are deceiving us, but even if you were, I’d be able to stop you anyway. So don’t be become all cocky with delusion. Thinking you can defeat me.” He grins.
“Mhm, well…thank you then.”
“Hm?”
“Thank you for believing in me,” You shakily sigh. “I’m happy to know someone is willing to stand up for me.”
“Of course! I would get a mopey Yuji if you died, and who knows how Sukuna would react, but I know for a fact it would not end well. Talking of Yuji and Sukuna, we should go check on them now!”
That’s right. Itadori has recently been announced as dead, however it seems Itadori must have made some sort of pact with Sukuna to revive him. You and Gojo, along with a few others at Jujutsu Tech, are the only people who know he’s alive. Gojo seems to take this opportunity to train Itadori well, and what that truly means is most of the time he conducts experiments that mainly consist of Gojo purposely annoying Sukuna to see how Itadori’s body would react. Most experiments involved you in some way — he found Sukuna’s threats very amusing, but what he found even more amusing is your ability to make the King of Curses sulk for a day by simply lightly reprimanding him for these threats.
“‘Kuna! That is no way to talk to someone. He just wanted a hug.”
“Yeah ‘Kunaaaa. I just wanted a hug.”
“Gojo-Sensei, please. Stop angering him. It’s getting harder and harder to suppress him.”
“This is exactly why I’m doing this! To help you learn how to suppress Sukuna, no matter the circumstances.” Gojo explains. While that may be partly true, Itadori knows that’s a lie. He’s doing this because it’s funny to him.
“You better watch it, Sorcerer scum,” Sukuna grits. “May I remind you that when I make this idiots body my own, I’m killing you first.”
“‘Kuna!” You scowl, hugging Gojo tighter to Sukuna’s dismay. Gojo flashes a shit-eating-grin Sukuna’s way for one last time and lets go of you.
“Thank you, Sensei. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could suppress him for.” Itadori sighs. You sit down next to him and give him a warm hug, rubbing circles on his back. Itadori looks up at you with warm eyes as you press a kiss to his forehead. You always bring the mummy issues out of him.
Meanwhile, in Sukuna’s domain, Sukuna is looking at you through Itadori’s eyes and he can’t help but marvel at you. You’re even more beautiful than he remembers, and you’re so unbelievably near. He wishes he could take his vessel’s place, return to his former glory with you by his side, but that will have to wait.
He will return to his former glory and you will be at his side when that happens. But above all else, what makes his wait all the more worth it, is the world he plans to create will be perfect for you and him. You wouldn’t need to worry about any disgusting sorcerers killing him and sealing you again.
Even if you hate him for killing the sorcerers, he can live with that. As long as you still love him, and stay by his side, he can deal with that.
——————————————
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back2bluesidex · 6 days
Text
Slide - That Night - MYG (18+)
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Pairing: Producer!Yoongi X Lyricist!Reader 
Theme: Angst, smut, unplanned pregnancy. Fwb to ?
Word count: 1.1k+
Summary: 
"I know that you've never been this high Promise, baby, I'll take you to heaven if you want it I'll take you to heaven if you die"
Alternatively,
You would give yourself up willingly again and again if it means Yoongi will stay close to you. for whatever purpose.
Warnings: angst, somewhat explicit smut, drinking, Yoongi is being kinda talkative and also lowkey confessing things. Reader and Yoongi both are quiet people.
Listened to Slide by Chase Atlantics
Minors do not interact!!
Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Patreon (for early access)
A/N: This is another chapter from The Past. This chapter is important for understanding Yoongi and Gyuri's break-up scenario and why reader would make choices she would make. hope I make sense.
Taglist requests are closed for now
Read the main chapter from The Present in Patreon.
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“I said no to the engagement.” Yoongi reveals, as quiet as vapor. You might have missed it if it wasn’t for your utmost attention trained on him and only him. 
It is probably in the middle of the second or third beer when he lets himself go. Or more like opens himself up for you to see. 
Ever since that night, Yoongi seems to have gotten comfortable with your presence. He has loosen up much more in these couple of weeks than he did in the years of knowing you. It makes you feel good, makes you feel important. 
Even though you have always been curious about what went wrong in his and Gyuri’s exemplary relationship, you never pried. Of course, it isn’t your place to ask. You don’t even know if you have that right or not. 
But you always waited. And it seems like your patience was worth it all. 
“I wasn’t ready.” Yoongi continues automatically. You still choose to stay silent, let him decide the pace of the conversation. “It’s not that I didn’t love her. I loved her. Shit. I love her and I always will. But something about sharing a life with someone else always freaks me out. Marrying, having kids - all these, freaks me out.” he groans. 
“I loved her. Shit. I love her and I always will” these are the words that you register the most. You replay these in the back of your mind and let your heart weep in silence. 
Now he laughs, and you find it tough to decide whether it is generated from pain or sarcasm. 
“She said that my decision didn’t even shock her, that I have been aloof and distant all these times. That I made her feel like she was the only one in the relationship and she knew this was coming. And you know what? She was right. I am like that. I always have been. It’s just sad, you know..” he inhales a sharp breath, “it’s just sad that she couldn’t love me for who I am.” 
How ironic. You think. 
Yoongi’s quiet, aloof, reserved persona is what had drawn you towards him. 
“I think you are intriguing like this. Cold, aloof, distant, it all makes you more and more lovable.” you confess and right after a moment you regret. You try to blame it on the alcohol right when Yoongi laughs again. 
This time his laugh is more of the amused kind. Is he really amused with your admission? 
“You find me intriguing because you are the very same. Cold, aloof, distant and… loveable.” Yoongi voices, the last bit of smile disappearing from his voice. 
You never thought like this. You never thought how similar you and yoongi are and how that could have played a big part in producing the feelings that you harbor for him. 
Now that he has pointed it out - you wonder - if opposites attract then this means Yoongi will never feel the same for you. 
“I guess.” you chug down the rest of your beer, subsiding the sinking feeling of your heart. 
“Have you ever been in love?” Yoongi asks now. His eyes pierce through yours. 
“I don’t think I have.” you admit. You divert your eyes from his, there is something swirling behind his irises and you think that phenomena would swallow you up alive. 
“What about a heartbreak? Ever had one?” Yoongi places his next question as if you are playing trivia. 
“The night I picked you up. My heart broke upon witnessing your condition.” you have always been straight forward. But you also know how to play safe. Hence, choosing a statement that would both tell the truth and conceal it at the same time looks like the safest option to you. 
“Oh. why?” Yoongi’s voice comes from a closer distance now. He must have shifted closer while you were busy staring at the ceiling. 
“We are similar after all.” you finally look at him again. And that has been a mistake because Yoongi is very definitely staring at your lips. 
Again, it is the alcohol to be blamed but you don’t pay half mind to all the alarms that set off when you take the initiative of closing the distance between your lips. 
You expect him to push you away. You expect him to look at you with disgust in his eyes and storm out of your apartment. 
But Min Yoongi rarely does what you expect him to. 
So he grabs you by your neck and kisses you back with all the force and lust he could gather in himself. 
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Yoongi’s fingers slide through the most secret parts of your body, where you have hardly ever given any access to anyone. But when it’s Min Yoongi, you give up readily and willingly. 
His mouth plays with the skin on your throat, biting you, marking you with excellence. 
You must be in heaven right now. 
If not then how come Yoongi is marking his territory on your skin? How come his hands are exploring your body like this? 
You know this is forbidden. By whom or what you don’t really have an idea. But that doesn’t change the fact that Min Yoongi can’t be yours and that you should stay away from him when he is broken. 
He is like a broken mirror, he reflects you but the moment you touch him, you get hurt. 
And you are past the stage of touching him now. 
Yoongi slides inside you with ease, his hands rest on your waist as he slams his entire length inside you. 
You hiss because of the initial stretch. 
He gives you time to adjust and once you are done he starts moving. 
He places his pretty mouth beside your ear and starts chanting your name, “Y/N. oh. Fuck. Y/N.” it sounds like the sweetest melody known to humankind. 
You let out occasional moans and groans with his lethal moves. His fingernails dig into your skin as if they are bound to be planted there. 
You wander through the haze - is this a dream? Is this one of those twisted dreams that you often end up having but never manage to finish? 
Yoongi groans again in your ear as he starts increasing his pace. He rutts in you like an animal in heat. 
Your bed starts creaking and you realize this is definitely not a dream. 
Min Yoongi is actually inside you, fucking you as if there’s no tomorrow. 
When he finishes inside the condom and flops down on you, you wish for the time to stop. You wish for your wish to come true. 
Even though you know, not even in your dreams Min Yoongi will ever love you back. 
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gnar-slabdash · 2 years
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I suddenly woke up stupid early on my day off with multiple weird random aches and pains and a revelation about the Leverage chess metaphors.
They’re all wrong.
Look, I obviously adore the white knight/black king motif, and it works really well for that very specific discussion of Nate’s shift in morality and position at the opening of the series. But the show as well as I and other fans have then tried to take that equation and apply it to other jobs and to the crew as a whole. This is fun and awesome, but I believe you’re going to get it wrong every time if you start from the white knight/black king line. 
Because in all other situations, Nate is not the king.
Couple important things about kings in chess: 1. They don’t move much. They can only move one space at a time, and for most of the game they stay in their own little box, well guarded by other pieces. This is because 2. When the king is checkmated (threatened with capture and no possible escape), it’s game over. There is no more hope. This is the sole requirement for losing the game. No matter who else is in play, if the king is down, you lose.
This is NOT how Nate operates. Yeah, he makes the plans, but he doesn’t just hide in the office while everybody else carries them out. He’s almost always right up in there playing the most obnoxious guy you’ve ever met or smashing windows or something. And if Nate gets captured, it’s not game over, in fact, it often isn’t even a PROBLEM. Let’s look at a few times that happens, just for fun: - In The King George Job, Nate’s getting beat up and Eliot slightly panics and is about to run to help, when Sophie says “NOPE, don’t do that, I can fix this without blowing our cover” and saunters in at her leisure. The jig isn’t up and she’s not even particularly concerned about him getting punched. I love it. - In the Maltese Falcon Job, Nate sacrifices himself to save the team. This is a classic thing to do in chess and chess metaphors, but, I cannot stress this enough, you cannot sacrifice your king. That’s just called LOSING. -In The Long Goodbye Job of course the whole con is structured around Nate getting caught. I guess this one kind of makes sense because the whole point is to look like they HAVE completely lost, but then at the end it appears that Nate’s going to secret prison and everyone else is escaping WITH the black book, so they STILL would be losing Nate but winning the job. 
So if Nate isn’t the king, who is?
Hardison.
Let’s look at our points about kings again:
1. Doesn’t move as far or as quickly: Yes, Hardison ALSO gets out there and participates in the cons, everybody does. But Hardison does stay in the background more often, because that’s where his power is. He does the behind the scenes tech stuff and the remote stuff, he can wreck your shop without showing up through the power of the internet. He also does the forgeries of identities and objects, which are also done in his own space. At the same time, he has less physical power and less range -- you don’t want him in a fistfight, or a gunfight, and his grifts are notorious for being a little. . . uh. . . interesting. So he has limited physical range and power but at the same time. . . .
2. The game is over if you lose him. That far-reaching behind the scenes power is absolutely vital for 90% of the jobs. He does the massive amounts of research and hacking legwork needed just to START a job, even before you get to actually completing the job. You are pretty much dead in the water without Hardison. But that’s just from a practical standpoint. Losing Hardison is also a crisis from an emotional standpoint. He’s our moral compass and our sweet baby brother and when Hardison gets in trouble there is no “well he’ll be fine for a few minutes” and no “well he kinda had it coming.” No, when Hardison is in trouble everything else grinds to a halt and everyone comes running. (See: The Experimental Job, The Grave Danger Job, The Long Goodbye Job.)
So like, yes Nate is in charge. But the king isn’t in charge on a chessboard, the king is just a piece with a very unique role, which Hardison fills much better than Nate does. So, now that we have our real king, who are our other pieces?
Queen: Parker. This has nothing to do with her dating Hardison. The thing about the queen is she can do a little bit of everything -- she can move in any direction, making her the most dangerous piece on the board. Parker’s whole character arc is about learning all the different roles and how to access the whole playing field. She’s the only one who plans and executes an entire episode-length job by herself (okay, with a little help from her girlfriend). Plus, the other cool thing about a queen is she has a built-in transformation story -- a pawn that crosses the board can become a queen, which Parker mimics by initially being dismissed as “the crazy one” and ultimately becoming the mastermind.
Knight: Sophie. I know, I wanted Eliot to be the horsie too, but this makes more sense. The knight’s deal is that it’s sneaky -- it’s the only piece that can turn corners -- and it can jump over obstacles. Sophie’s whole philosophy of grifting is that she shouldn’t need to know about safes or security systems, she should be able to bypass (jump over) all that by insinuating herself with the mark (being sneaky by playing a character to get behind enemy lines)
Rook: Eliot. This is the straightforward one -- it goes in a straight line. It also literally represents the castle walls. It’s also so, so fucking helpful to have around, I fucking hate losing my rooks. It’s your solid right hand man, basically. Is this a little reductive of Eliot? Absolutely, but I’m jamming five complex characters into five predetermined boxes, it’s not all gonna be nuanced. And I think Mr. Punchy would like being seen as the fortress that everybody depends on, and to let all the nuance go under the radar. That’s where he likes it. 
Bishop: Finally, here’s where Nate is hiding. While the rook can only go straight (lol), the bishop can only go diagonally. Nothing can be straightforward for the bishop, he always has to come at things from an angle. Like, you know, constantly looking at all the different angles of a situation and finding the right angle to come at a mark from. Also, the bishops sit right in the middle right next to the king and queen. I don’t know that this is historically accurate, but when my dad taught me to play he told me that was because the bishops were important councilors to the rulers, they were the ones who had important wisdom that would tell them the best plan of attack. So the king here isn’t necessarily the one making the plans -- that’s the bishop. And finally, apparently the bishop is called lots of different things in other languages, but we’re operating in English, which means it makes Nate a priest, and that makes me happy.
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yandere-daydreams · 23 days
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Okok gonna face my fears and send this off anon . . . ♡ I woke up at 6am and have been plagued by the concept of yan!satosugu with idol darling like all morning
Walk with me here okokokokok. So like satoru obviously has like sooo much money. What if just to get a break from focusing on sorcery all the time he became a sponsor or even producer for a very cute girlypop idol group,,, (and yes I do think he would be kinda weird/creepy to idol darling, especially with how he views himself as basically untouchable (I mean he has enough money to pay the right people off) sooo). 
That’s where suguru comes in (I see this as a mostly canon-compliant geto never defected au). Obviously he would want to keep up with what his best friend is up to, so he’s like a day one supporter of said idol group. With how the japanese idol industry seems to have a focus on the youth and purity of female idols, I could definitely see suguru wanting to “protect his oshi’s innocence” . . .
So if (let’s be honest, WHEN) satosugu bring idol darling home, I could totally see suguru just absolutely babying the poor girl to kind of a weird infantilizing degree?? If that makes sense?? Like very much trying to condition darling into relying on them for everything
I would assume that satoru would be a lot more upfront about how much of a gross perv he is (especially since he probably mistreated the group members to some extent)
I think they would expect total compliance from darling, but if darling ever acts up I can’t help but think one of their go-to punishments would be forcing her to perform the groups choreographies with some sort of “handicap” ie vibrator taped to her pussy at the full speed (and yes they would probably reprimand if she messes up - gotta make sure their number one idol isn’t missing practice!!
Speaking of missing practice/group activities, I fully believe it is within satoru’s capabilities to spread the narrative that darling just kinda . . . suddenly “graduated” from the group and left without a trace, so therefore the other members shouldn’t worry about her and should instead just resume group activities!! (I could also see satosugu using this as some kind of mental leverage over idol darling - like “hey, your group is actually way more popular now that you’ve left”)
Sorry gang I fear I let the thoughts simmer for too long . . .
please let me know your thoughts :3
tw - non/con, kidnapping, idol exploitation, long-term stalking, and obsessive behavior.
WAIT may i suggest: suguru and satoru as parasocial ultra-fans of the same idol as kind of an escapism thing from the stress of being some of the world's most powerful sorcerers, with satoru having the fortune to completely devote himself to making him and suguru your #1 fans. you start to recognize them around the fifth time they miraculously appear at the very front of the line for your post-concert meet-and-greet, but since they're a little bit older and they always have a small gaggle of shy, but polite preteens with them, you just assume they're a pair of wealthy fathers eager to fuel their kids' shared fixation. sure, it's a little strange that the white-haired man always seems more excited to shake your hand than his standoffish son, and it does raise a few concerns when the twin girls spend the majority of their time with you gushing about their black-haired father, but you're a very popular idol with a very busy schedule. you don't have a lot of time to think about one strange family out of the hundred or so you'll meet, that night.
you don't have a lot of time to think about them until your group starts getting extravagant, expensive gifts and donations - always paired with the a gushing fan letter and always sent from one of two increasingly familiar names. since you always seem to be the primary focus, you're the one pressured by your producers to film 'thank you' videos that are just a little too intimidate, to post the type of pictures your generous sponsors compliment the most heavily more often than you may like to. it gets to the point where you're being asked how you'd feel about ""private shows"" to ""ensure the support of a select demographic"", but you adamantly refuse every time it's brought up. it's enough to have to deal with satoru's touchiness at your handshake events, suguru's prying gaze from his permanent seat in the front row of your group's concerts. you don't need to be trapped in the same room as them, alone and all-but paid to cooperate, to know that you want as little to do with them as possible.
that is, until your producer slips you a drink that's just a little too bitter during rehearsal and you wake up in a large room decorated entirely with your merch and memorabilia, to satoru's head between your thighs and suguru behind you, an arm wrapped around your waist and his chin propped on your shoulder as he tells you about how excited they are to finally meet their favorite idol in person, how patiently they've been waiting for you to finally retire and take on a more domestic lifestyle. they'll be delighted to find out that, because of how long you've been in the industry and how protective your fans can be, you're still very much a virgin, and you very much need your two biggest fans to show you what you've been missing <3 if you're lucky, they'll even add pictures of your first climax to the shrine they've been building since they day they first discovered you, the shrine they're going to be keeping you inside of from now on. you might be crying, sure, begging to be let go, but that's alright.
in time, you'll realize how lucky you are to have such devoted fans.
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cloudcountry · 11 months
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Eeee requests are open for Rollo!! Ahem.
So ever since I watched a playthrough of the GloMas event, I always had this idea in my head where Rollo and Yuu (or in this case, the reader) are dancing in the ballroom. But Yuu/Reader knew Rollo's connection to what happened with the Crimson flowers (?) and they disliked him for it. But they also don't have a choice but to dance with him to avoid conflict.
I was obsessed with Enemies to Lovers by Joshua Kyan Aalampour at that time so it kinda influenced the idea hehe
Thank you and take a good rest after this!! <3333
SUMMARY: you're trapped in a fearful waltz with the man you hate.
WARNINGS: none!!
COMMENTS: COOKIE THAT PIECE IS BEAUTIFUL........readers if you wnat to listen to something while you read please listen to it its so good and made my writing flow so easily omg
i havent played the full event so if some parts dont make sense thats why!! im only going off of some spoilers ive seen so if you havent seen any spoilers for this event tread carefully i guess!!
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Your hands shake as the man in front of you takes them, his stare cold and triumphant. He knows he’s won this battle, that you have to dance in order to preserve Night Raven’s reputation or risk making yourself look bad. He knows he’s won and it kills you inside. You have half a mind to step on his toes but you decide against it.
His hand grasps your waist and sweeps you into a waltz. You hold back a violent shudder at the touch of a madman, your heart pitter-pattering like the ashes against the cobblestone paths. Rollo sighs, almost like he’s relaxed, like he’s enjoying this dance with you.
You could not agree less.
“Are you having fun?” he asks, words laced with a mocking poison.
You seeth, but keep your mouth closed. You will not give him anything to use against you. The dance continues as the orchestra hits another crescendo, and bile crawls up your throat when Rollo spins you and dips you in accordance with the music.
He’s a delightful dance partner, although you loath to admit it. If he wasn’t so unpleasant to be around and didn’t actively put the people you loved in danger, you may have enjoyed this moment.
That thought vanishes the second you see his face and the ugly smirk that adorns it. You hate this. You hate this and you hate him. You hate having to rely on your magical peers to drag you away from Rollo, even though they can’t right now because this dance is supposed to signify goodwill.
It doesn’t matter how much Deuce hates to see you uncomfortable, or how much Jamil takes in your partner's body language to make sure he isn’t planning anything nefarious, or how hard Azul clenches his fists in displeasure or how much Grim wants to bite his ankles or how much Malleus wants to rip Rollo’s hands off of you because they would ruin everything if they did and that’s simply not an option any of them can take anymore.
And so you dance.
You dance and you can’t wait for it to be over.
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foursaints · 3 months
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i lurvvveeee your jegulus so lemme be parasocial about them for a sec!! how did those fuckers meet? are they an opposites attract kinda sitch?? how do their individual personalities mesh together to create the perfect mush of athlete sweat and dior sauvage eau de toilette?
- sincerely, the film bro question anon 💌
jegulus has always struck me as the kind of insane people who would meet by hooking up at their mutual ex’s wedding. they’re that exact type of crazy. (james is there to make a dramatic love confession, regulus is there to get dramatic revenge, and they wind up too preoccupied with fucking in the coat room to remember their original plans, thank GOD)
jegulus always has the type of charmingly witty, surprisingly tender, magical banter that convinces them it’s love at first sight, approximately 24 hours before james catches a glimpse of reg’s “jfp: pros/cons?” list in his notes app and all hell breaks loose.
they’re two people who are both utterly convinced they’re always RIGHT. but they couldn’t be more different. so they mutually instigate a crisis in each other just by existing
regulus has the personality of a vodka martini. james cries at finale episode of american ninja warrior. but they have to reckon with their blistering chemistry & shocking moments of soulmate-level vulnerability and this is difficult because, crucially, neither one of them is good at EVER losing battles of will….
they are equally stubborn. they deal with life in opposite ways. you could not PAY regulus to date someone who wears the same filthy unwashed pair of “lucky socks” before watching any championship game. james thinks paying more than $200 on a single pair of slacks is tantamount to a war crime.
but they both… begrudgingly respect and are fascinated/hypnotized by each other? because of the differences? they have the EXACT SAME sense of humor. their weird “contemptuous rivalry” sex is the single most passionate thing either of them has ever experienced. and it’s precisely their differences that just… against their wishes…. bring out the best in each other
like. james has never had a normal breakup in his entire life (they’re burning his clothes, he’s showing up at 6am with a boombox, etc). all of regulus’s breakups are handled in 3-5 business hours & come with a severance package. it’s only by talking to regulus on the porch at midnight that james gets a handle on himself. regulus has never enjoyed letting go until james teaches him to tango in his apartment at 3am.
but all these moments of growth!! would be more satisfying!!! if they weren’t coming directly from THAT SWAGGERING TRUST FUND CONTROL FREAK IDIOT!!!!! (said the swaggering trust fund control freak idiot)
it’s the horror of realizing your least favorite person is Sometimes Right, and also isn’t even close to being your least favorite person at all.
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nyaagolor · 1 year
Text
Franziska being Nick's weird little girl in Bridge to the Turnabout lives rent-free in my mind at all times
-
The two of them are sitting on the snowy bench watching Phoenix for at least five minutes before Franziska finally says something.
“He is depressed,” she announces matter-of-factly. Gumshoe can’t help but let out a sigh of relief.
“Finally, people are making SENSE around here, sir!”
Franziska continues without acknowledging him. “He misses his vierd little girl.”
Gumshoe’s face falls. “The spirit medium, you mean? That’s not a good way to describe her.”
Franziska twirls a hand in the air like that will untangle the words in her mind. “No, Phoenix, he… hm. He is always… he has those vierd little girls following him around always. Maya, but also the little one. I have seen it many times.”
Gumshoe thinks about it, and realizes Franziska isn’t exactly wrong. Phoenix does always seem to have some kinda buddy with him all the time— one of the Feys, usually, but even his Maggey stood beside him during her trials.
“You think it helps him focus? Like a little rubber ducky you talk to when you gotta get the words out right?” he says. 
Franziska glares at him coldly. “You are the only fool who would do something so foolish.”
Gumshoe slumps a little, and Franziska twists her whip around in her hands.
“However. You may not be incorrect. Phoenix Wright is a foolish fool, and his foolish tendencies are somewhat mitigated by the presence of his… strange female companions.”
“His… do you mean friends?”
“Silence,” Franziska commands.
The two of them sit there in silence again before Franziska, eyes locked like searchlights on the back of Phoenix’s head, stands up suddenly with her mouth set into a hard line. She cracks the whip in the snow and strides towards him, her heels crunching in the powder.
“PHOENIX WRIGHT,” she commands, and he jumps with less of a start than normal. He really IS depressed, it seems. “I will be assisting with your investigation.”
Phoenix looks less than thrilled, sputtering protests as Franziska stares coldly up at him, and it is at that moment that Gumshoe decides he could use a little cocoa right about now.
By the time he returns, Phoenix seems strangely back to normal, muttering over seemingly random knickknacks he insists are “evidence” and shuffling through his chickenscratch notes like there’s anyone capable of reading it. He taps one of the pages and looks up expectantly. Though Franziska does nothing but offer him the same steely gaze, Phoenix seems satisfied enough, smiling to himself and scribbling furiously in the margins. Franziska catches Gumshoe’s eyes, notices his smile, and quickly turns her head, fingers curling around the handle of her whip. Taking a sip of his cocoa to hide his grin, Gumshoe pretends to be busy with investigating.
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daengtokki · 10 months
Text
𝐵𝓁𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝒟𝒶𝓉𝑒
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Kim Seungmin/Female Reader
wc: 9.7k
rating: fluff -`♡´-
Part 1 of 4 5
MASTERLIST
˚☽˚.⋆
The lines around his mouth deepen. His hand jumps up to cover it as his lips finally break open to make way for a tiny laugh. He replaces his hand with his coffee cup, sipping around a shy smile. “Thank you.” But he shakes his head a little when he says it.
You catch a glimpse of the braces he’s instinctively trying to hide.
/ / /
It’s half-past eight and you’re already an hour behind. Work got hectic, and then the surprise meeting really threw you off balance. Tonight is not the best night for a date. A blind date, actually, set up for you with nothing but love and the very best of intentions in mind by your friend and co-worker. And if you’re being honest with yourself, one of the only close friends you’ve made since moving far from home. She’s your best friend, really. Choonhee even helped you find your job here in Korea.
Now that you think about it, maybe this whole date idea was to take some of the weight off of her. The two of you spend most of your time together. She teaches you how to cook all of your favorite dishes, helps you keep your finances in order. She’s always there when things get a little too overwhelming. You don’t blame her for wanting to find you more friends.
You feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket.
“Please please also be running behind,” You mumble to yourself.
Meet him at the cafe in an hour
A sigh of relief. You look at yourself in the mirror. Time to shower. Time to overthink what you’re going to wear.
It’s just a casual thing, she said. No dressing up. Just wear what I’d wear if I were hanging out any other time with any other friend. That really didn’t make things easier, though. You try to remember what she did tell you about your date, but it wasn’t much:
Tall, but not too tall. ‘Taller than you’ is what she said, actually. Nice eyebrows. Kind of a smart ass if you know him well enough. He’s funny…she really emphasized the fact that he has an interesting sense of humor. His hair is currently blond, or it was the last time she saw him. ‘He looks cute blond’, also her words. And ‘he did it for work’.
What does that even mean? You didn’t bother getting any other information out of her. It’s going to be uncomfortable and awkward no matter how much you know, but you forgot to ask how well he spoke English. It doesn’t matter now. You just hope there’s enough overlap in language to make it through an hour or so.
____
At 9:40 (you’re late) you jump out of your taxi and try to orient yourself. You’ve been here before, but not much, and not lately. And it’s busy because of the holiday. You suddenly regret every decision you’ve made today. Maybe it’s not too late to cancel and get yourself back home and under the blankets.
Buzz buzz
Are you there? He’s waiting near the door, but didn’t want to go in without you because it’s a little busy
Oh, that’s kinda nice. At least he’s thoughtful. Or maybe he’s just anxious. Your heart is still beating out of your chest and you can feel how hot your cheeks are despite the chilly air. You start your walk toward the cafe, about a half a block down. There are far too many people loitering on the sidewalk; waiting for rides, talking in tight little groups, phones out and taking videos of friends. You squeeze yourself through until you get to the tables set up outside. Also full of people.
You close your eyes and take in a deep breath. Seven seconds in, five out. Right? It helps a little, so you open your eyes and take a cautious look around. There are so many people that could potentially be him, so you try to filter out the blonds. There are a lot of kinda tall blonds, but only one by himself. And he isn’t really blond. This guys hair is a light soft brown. The way the warm lights bounce off of it does make it look lighter, though.
He’s right by the outer doors of the cafe, back against the wall with one foot flat against it. His raised knee is swinging back and forth like a metronome. He’s bobbing his head a little as he stares down at his phone. It lights up his face, but most of it is covered with a black mask. And then, almost as if he feels your eyes on him, he looks up and right at you. His hair bounces down around his eyes a bit, and he shakes his head until he gets it out.
You hold the eye contact, but you forget how to react normally for a moment. You assume she told him about you and a little about your appearance, so…
He puts his phone in his pocket and waves, a little reluctantly, a little unsure. You’re not the only foreigner here, and definitely not terribly distinctive looking. But you’re certain you’re looking at the right person.
You wave back and smile.
He stands up straight and takes a few steps toward you, hands in the pockets of his jacket now. He takes them out almost immediately, though. Maybe he’s nervous, too.
He nods to you. His hand combs through his hair, but it bounces back exactly how it was before he touched it. “You’re late.”
You blush a little and your heart is thumping again. The mask is making it difficult to read him. That’s not how you were expecting him to greet you, and you really weren’t expecting somebody that looked like him
“I’m kidding…I’m kidding.” Now you can hear the lightness in his voice. It’s almost melodic, the way he speaks. He pulls at his mask a little to adjust it. “I just got here a few minutes ago.”
“Oh!” You try to hold his eyes with yours, but his gaze is a little intense. “Okay good…yeah it’s a little crazy out tonight.”
“It is busy,” he agrees with a little nod. “But we can go inside if it’s not too crowded for you. To get warm.”
His hands are back in his pockets again.
“Yeah, if you’re good, I’m good.”
It’s almost too warm inside the cafe, but it’s roomy, thankfully. The large amount of people are spread out nicely. The lights are turned down low, and the atmosphere is almost bar-like. The biggest difference is the smell of coffee and the soft voices. The music is familiar; something you would listen to in your free time.
He waits for you to catch up. You fall behind without realizing as you adjust to your surroundings.
“It’s nice in here,” he says, “what do you like to drink?”
“Just a regular latte.”
“That’s all?”
You nod at him, and he orders for both of you. It’s a good opportunity to see him in the brighter lights here at the counter. His long legs are in a pair of well fitting (but not too tight) black jeans, cuffed just enough that you see a bit of his ankle peeking above his white and tan sneakers. His jacket is light blue denim, and the hoodie underneath is white.
He half turns to look at you, and his eyes narrow in a way that let you know he’s smiling. It sets off butterflies in your stomach. You’ve barely spoken to him and you haven’t even seen his whole face, yet here you are, feeling like you’re falling.
“They’ll bring our drinks to us. We can find somewhere to sit.” He waves you toward him, and you follow as he leads you to the most out of the way table he can find. You’re thankful for the semi-privacy here.
There’s not much time to start a conversation, but you look at each other briefly. His gaze is a little intense from above his mask, but soft. His eyes are big and shiny, and he doesn’t look away from you. It feels like he’s searching for something to say.
A few moments later, a young girl arrives with two drinks. When she walks off again, he finally takes off his mask. Carefully he unhooks it from one ear, then the other, and folds it neatly into his pocket.
He’s better looking than you were expecting.
The smell of fresh coffee and the look in his eyes makes you feel a little…woozy. You wonder if he looks at everyone like this. It’s getting so warm in the cafe. You shake yourself out of your top layer before wrapping your hands around the warm mug.
Your force yourself to look up at him again. “Choonhee told me almost nothing about you. She didn’t even get your hair color right.”
“To be fair, I change it often.” He lifts his straw to his lips. Iced coffee. “She told me a lot about you.”
“Yeah? What did you she tell you? I may have to correct a few things.”
“No,” he laughs and shakes his head. “She said you were…nice, cute, funny, smart.”
You try not to dispute his ‘cute’ claim. Either he means it or he’s just being nice. Both are fine right now. “She did mention that we have similar personalities, but I don’t know exactly what she meant.”
“I think she must have a type when it comes to friends.”
His English is nice; very smooth. Only occasionally does he make a mistake with cadence. But it’s hardly noticeable. His voice is sweet and soft, and very soothing to your ears. You hope he keeps talking all night. Things will go much easier for you that way.
“She told me you were kind of a smart ass.”
Seungmin laughs at that, throwing his hand over his mouth when he does. “Only if you deserve it.” He drops his hand back to the table and then around his drink
The two silver rings he’s wearing glint a little in the light. One is thin and plain, the other is much wider, and the shape is a repeating row of G’s. You somehow recognize that G. It’s a Givenchy G.
“Is this real or a knockoff?” Gently, you take his hand in yours to get a closer look, and then realize how silly of a thing that was. Sometimes you forget to show restraint. You’re very American.
He doesn’t pull away, though. He doesn’t seem to mind you taking his hand in yours without warning. “It’s real. It was a gift.”
“Silver looks good on you.”
“Thank you.” He drops his eyes from you to your hands still clasped together. He says nothing, just waits until you let go to pull back.
“Oh…gift, that reminds me.” He digs in the pocket of his denim jacket and pulls out something small and white. Before handing it to you, he looks it over and smiles. “It’s silly, but I got you this...”
“You brought me something?”
Seungmin nods and passes it across the table. When you grab it, it’s soft and fuzzy. It’s a keychain. You’re definitely blushing and you’re 100% certain he can see the pink rising up from your neck and into your cheeks.
“I don’t know if you have a favorite, but Choonhee said you like dogs. I like dogs, too. Pochacco is my favorite.”
“Thank you, Seungmin.” You stare down at Pochaccos face and squeeze him. Then you hook him onto the keys hanging from your bag. You keep holding onto him, though.
He smiles again, much bigger than before. And this time he doesn’t cover his face with his hand. You see his braces this time, and it makes you smile. You obviously shouldn’t stare, but it’s hard not to. They look cute on him.
An oooh comes out in a whisper and you didn’t mean it to, but it’s out there now. You can’t take your eyes off of his mouth, and now you’re wondering what it would be like to kiss him.
“Oh…uhm.” Seungmin keeps smiling, but now his lips are back together. “Did she tell you I still had my braces?”
“No, she didn’t mention it.” You lean into the table more so you’re closer to him. It’s not a very big table. “She told me very little, I guess she wanted me to be surprised.”
“Hopefully no…bad surprises.”
“Nothing bad yet.”
The smile on his face becomes a little more reserved, but it’s still very much there. “How is your coffee…are you hungry?”
“It’s good,” You pick it up and take a sip. He’s been too distracting…you can’t even remember if you’ve taken a drink yet. “I am a little hungry, but I’m not much of an eater on dates. I’m usually too nervous.”
Seungmin nods, seeming to understand your reasoning. “Please let me know if you change your mind. We can get something.”
You nod back, “so how do you know Choonhee?”
“She used to work with me, where I work now.”
“Oh, where do you work?”
He seems to hesitate for a moment, look around, fidget with his drink. Then he looks at you again. “I work for JYP Entertainment.”
He works at one of the biggest entertainment companies in South Korea. And Choonhee worked there, too.
“I had no idea she used to work there.” You sit back in your chair and fold your arms over your chest. “That’s kind of a big change from what she does now.”
Seungmin nods, “in atmosphere, maybe. She was a tutor. You are a teacher, yeah?”
You nod, “yes, I teach English. Sometimes music, as a substitute.”
The table shakes a little as he moves closer. He can’t get much closer, unfortunately. “You teach music?”
“Not often, but yes. I take it you like music?”
“Yes, very much. Do you sing?
“Yeah, a little.”
There’s a little smirk on his lips as he finishes off the last bit of iced coffee. He shakes the remainder of his ice as he stands. “I’m going to find the restroom, I’ll be back.”
Before he leaves, he shakes himself free of his denim jacket and hangs it neatly across the back of his chair. You nod and watch him walk away. It’s difficult to keep your eyes off of him, but as soon as he disappears into the restroom, you pull out your phone. It’s buzzed three times since you’ve been here.
Have fun!!
Did you find him?
You don’t have to answer these btw, I’ll assume you haven’t answered because you found him and immediately fell in love
You unlock your phone and begin typing a response. “Yes, we found each other.” Send. You think for a moment, but her reply comes through before your next message.
Well!?
“He’s cute.”
You’re gonna fall in love, just give it a minute
From the corner of your eye you see him walk by the table. You look at him; he looks at you and waves, but his mask is back on. You think for the smallest moment he’s skipping out, but he’s only heading to the counter again. You watch him and your phone at the same time.
Buzz buzz
He likes you
Oh, he must have sent Choonhee a message in the restroom. He likes you. You’ve barely known each other thirty minutes, so he can’t possibly like you that much. But you like him, so maybe he does…
He returns with two small plates and sets one of them in front of you. The other is his. “I heard they have very good pastries here, so I thought we should try one.” He removes his mask and goes for a taste.
You pick yours up and carefully tear it in half. It’s filled with chocolate. “Oh, did you get the chocolate one, too?”
As he’s biting into it and making a mess, he nods. The flakes stick to his lips as he chews, and he carefully tries cleaning them off, but it’s a challenge. It’s cute. You can’t help but think of going over there and cleaning him off yourself. But you shake away the thought and stop staring.
——
“Seungmin…” he hands you your fresh coffee and leads the way out of the crowd. It’s dwindled a bit, but not by much. “It’s a nice name.”
“It’s so common, but I guess that’s not really a bad thing.”
“You look like a Seungmin.”
“Oh, is that a good thing?” He laughs.
You mmhmm him through your sip of coffee and purposely brush against his arm. He gave you his denim jacket to wear. You told him you weren’t cold, and it was no big deal, but you’re secretly grateful you have it around you. His scent is subtle on it; it’s nice.
“Are you warm enough?”
“Yeah, I’m alright,” you look up at him, but you can’t see well in the dim light. You can just make out the silhouette of his nose and mouth and chin. He licks his lips after another sip of coffee. “It’s nice here.”
You walked from the cafe and ended up at the edge of a large public park. It’s lit up and cozy, but a little chillier now that it’s gotten much later. There are still plenty of people milling around, though, mostly couples and groups of teenagers, but it’s not too crowded.
There are seats and tables here, so he leads you to a spot under some decent lighting and a working outdoor heater. It’s comfortable enough, but mostly it’s nice having him more to yourself. He’s looking down at his hands as they spin his coffee cup. A hot one this time.
Big dark eyelashes hide his eyes from you. Lips are closed tight like, he’s deep in thought. He looks at you then, as if he feels you watching. The lights makes them look wet, like maybe he could cry at any moment. But his cheeks lift as he smiles. His lips stay closed tight, but the corners of his mouth twitch a little as he fights an even bigger smile.
He feels familiar, but you can’t figure out why. Maybe you’ve seen him before. He’s the kind of good looking you’d see on tv or in a magazine, but he also looks like your cute childhood crush all grown up. So now you suddenly wonder what business you have being in front of him. Did Choonhee really think this was a good blind date?
Maybe for you. Seungmin could probably have anyone he wanted.
“You’re very handsome.”
The lines around his mouth deepen. His hand jumps up to cover it as his lips finally break open to make way for a tiny laugh. He replaces his hand with his coffee cup, sipping around a shy smile. “Thank you.” But he shakes his head a little when he says it.
You catch a glimpse of the braces he’s instinctively trying to hide.
“How long have you been here in Korea?” He asks. He can’t keep them hidden while he talks. Well, he could, but you’re sure he’s aware of how silly it would look if he held a hand over his mouth for the entire date.
“Two years…not very long,” you keep yours eyes on his eyes…or on his hands as they fidget with his cup. “I think your English is better than my Korean.”
“Is it?” Seungmin raises his eyebrows, and his face lights up. He bites down on the corner of his lip, making your eyes wander to the metal glint when he flashes his teeth. “Thanks.” He rubs a little at his mouth, probably fighting the habit of covering it again.
You want to tell him to relax; that his braces don’t distract from the rest of him
Seungmin sits up a bit and looks around. A few people have walked by since you sat down, but not many. There’s music playing from somewhere nearby, but you can’t tell where it’s coming from. It’s a soft song you’ve heard many times on the radio at work.
You want him to tell you everything he can about himself, but you don’t want to scare him off. It’s been less than two hours, but you can already feel yourself attaching—falling for him—doing what you always do with anyone who gives you the type of attention Seungmin is giving you tonight. He’s only had eyes for you all night, but occasionally he looks around and gets quiet…a little uncomfortable.. The first date nerves have mostly subsided for you, but maybe they haven’t for him.
“Are you still hungry? We could find somewhere to eat if it’s not too late.” He seems to be searching your face for an answer before he continues. “If it’s not too late to eat, I mean,” he looks down at the time on his phone, “it’s a little late.”
It’s nearly eleven. It is late for you, technically. You’re usually up early, unless you don’t have to be. Maybe he’s an early riser as well.
“It’s not too late, not during the holiday.”
____
Seungmin gets the two of you a ride this time, and you head a few miles closer to the city. There’s so much space between you in the backseat of the car, but he has his body turned toward you as he speaks. He seems to be texting on his phone between your conversation, but it’s the first time he’s been on it all night, aside from getting the car.
“I go here very often, so they know me.”
Pochacco is in your lap. You fidget with him as Seungmin speaks and types at the same time. “I’m glad you like him.”
____
The mask is back on his face as he leads you toward the restaurant. It looks busy from the outside, but the open design makes everything feel calm and quiet. As you’re standing there waiting, you feel his fingers graze against your hand. Your fingers twitch back against his.
A young man, you assume he is one of the hosts, walks over to you and bows. “We have your table ready for you.” He looks at Seungmin, and then to you before gesturing to follow him.
You walk off to the right and a little further beyond the packed bar. There are a fair amount of people in this slightly more private area, but nobody pays much attention as you follow Seungmin and the host to your table.
“What are you hungry for?” Seungmin removes his mask again. “Everything here is very good.”
“I’m not very picky, and I’ll try anything at least once. As long as there are no intestines.”
“Gopchang is not my favorite, but I have a good friend who makes it very well.”
You scan the menu. There’s a surprising amount of dishes listed. “I think I would like to try whatever your favorite dish is.”
“How do you feel about sharing something?”
It’s a cute suggestion and it catches you by surprise. He keeps doing all of the things that make you feel stupid and in love.
“We can both pick something and share them, or share one dish…if you want.” His smile grows a little as he speaks.
You like watching him become more comfortable as the night progresses. Hopefully your calm is making him calm, because you feel much better now than you have the entire day.
“Yeah, let’s share something.” Whatever makes you feel closer to him. One dish between the two of you is the obvious answer. “We should have your favorite.”
“I hope you don’t like spicy. I can’t do spicy.”
“No, I don’t need spicy. Maybe some kimchi, though. I like to try the kimchi everywhere I go.”
Seungmin smiles at you without holding himself back. “Yeah, we should have some kimchi, and Jjajangmyeon as well.” He nods and picks up his tea, but doesn’t take a drink. Instead he looks at you with curious eyes. The edge of the glass sits lightly against his lower lip.
You feel a little flutter in your chest just from looking at him now. “You should smile like that more often.”
“No,” He says it bluntly but playfully. “Maybe in a few months when they’re finally off.”
A little wave of sadness washes over you, but passes quickly. “You can smile for me, I like it.”
The buzzing of a phone interrupts you, but your eyes linger on his softening face for another few seconds. It’s Choonhee needing an update. You don’t want to be rude and you definitely don’t want to be distracted from working on figuring him out—or making him smile more.
But then another text message dings. It’s not you this time. Seungmin reaches into his pocket and glances quickly at his screen. “Should we answer her?”
____
You only reply to Choonhee’s text after your order has been placed and Seungmin excuses himself from the table.
“Yeah, all good still”
He LIKES YOU
You feel goosebumps break out all over your skin when you read her reply.
“He’s a little bit of a mystery. How did you meet him? Why didn’t I know you used to work at JYPE??”
You send the message, hoping you get an answer before he comes back. But a reply doesn’t pop up until a few minutes after he’s returned and food is brought out to the table.
Seungmin begins splitting the food between the two of you. “You can answer her, it’s okay.”
“No, I’m not worried about it. I’ll text her later.”
It doesn’t hurt to glance down at the message, though. All it says is “Kim Seungmin likes you (ง¬᎑¬)ว”
You give the air in front of you an irritated sigh.
“Are you okay?” Seungmin stops as he’s fixing his food. His brow wrinkles a bit with concern. It’s very cute. “Did I give you too much?”
“No no, I wasn’t sighing at you, Seungmin.” You pick up your chopsticks and situate your food in front of you, but wait for him before you dig into what looks like very good kimchi. “I just…looked at Choonhee’s text. She drives me crazy sometimes.”
“She also drives me crazy. She was very persistent about us meeting each other.”
“She wouldn’t let me say no.”
You both take a bite of food together.
“She’s very lucky it’s a holiday and I could get time away, though she probably would have kept pestering me.” He takes another bite, watching you curiously as you do the same. “Did you want to say no? You didn’t want to come?”
“Did you?”
“I asked you first.”
He’s funny. “I didn’t, only because I don’t really like blind dates. I don’t like going into anything…blind.”
“That’s understandable. I did want to come, but also I didn’t, because dating for me is difficult and sometimes awkward for the other person. But a while ago I told Choonhee I wanted to make more foreign friends. She doesn’t forget things.”
“Does work keep you very busy?” Now seems like the time to really pry. “Is that why dating is so hard?”
“Work is very busy, yes. I feel like I have to be on 100% of the time, and it can be very exhausting.” He takes a big, messy bite of food, then covers his mouth as he tries not to giggle through it. It takes him a few moments before he can speak again. “That’s one reason why it’s difficult.”
“I am glad I came, though.”
“How is your food?” Just as he asks, the server returns to the table with another plate of food. “Oh, I got us something else.”
“More? I don’t know if I can eat what we have here now.” Your eyes widen at the sight of this new plate of food. “Oh!”
Seungmin laughs and serves you a few pieces of gopchang, “sometimes it takes a few tries before you really appreciate something.”
You gingerly pick up a small piece of intestine and examine it. It jiggles weirdly at the end of your chopsticks. “Okay, so I’ve never actually tried it before.”
“Eat!”
You take the bite, hold it in your mouth for a second, then chew.
“No?”
You swallow hard, then shake your head at him. “No.”
“Well, at least you tried it.” He pulls the plate back toward him and takes a few bites. “Eat some kimchi and get the taste out of your mouth.” He laughs at the grimace still stuck on your face.
“It might take more than that,” but you do, and then a long drink of your tea. Your phone buzzes again.
“Tell her that…we have decided to just spend the remainder of the holiday together. And that she shouldn’t worry about us.”
Your face gets hot, even though he’s definitely just goofing around. When you look up at him he’s calmly eating, looking down at the messages that popped up on his own phone.
“I think she’s having fun with us.”
“This time it’s Chan Hyung checking up on me. He is a worrier.”
“That’s sweet of him. Did you tell him you’re in good hands?”
Seungmin nods and laughs, “I did.” His eyes catch the light and sparkle at you as he leans closer across the table. “He will worry until I’m back home, though.”
“Do you live with him?”
“I’m at my parents house for the holiday, but normally yes. Well, nearby. I have three roommates. And the other four, including him, live together. But basically we all live together.”
Each time you ask him a question, the answer makes you a little more confused than if you hadn’t asked anything at all. You sit back in your chair and let out a long sigh, fold your arms across your chest. “That’s a lot of roommates.”
“I’m so used to it, we’ve been together for a while now.”
“I’m gonna run to the restroom, I’ll be back.” You grab your bag and your phone. Seungmin gives you a nod.
Once you manage to find the bathroom, you have a seat on one of the squishy chairs and pull your phone back out. Choonhee’s last text message is still on your lock screen…
Kim Seungmin likes you (ง¬᎑¬)ว
You start typing…
"I can’t seem to figure him out. He’s so sweet and easy to talk to, but why is everything about him so…"
So what? You’re not even sure where this message is going.
"…he’s different?? He’s TOO sweet, too good looking. Help me out here."
Now you wait for a reply, hoping she’s glued to her phone so you’re not stuck in here for too long. Two girls, maybe a little younger than you, walk in while you wait, and both look at you directly as they pass by. One lingers on you and heads to the mirror to fix her makeup, the other disappears into a stall. You keep your eyes on your phone, but you still see her watching you from the corner of your eye.
Buzz buzz
Why are you so paranoid? You better trust me.
You push the call button and wait for her to pick up.
“Annyeeoong!”
“I am not paranoid! You threw me into this and now you’re picking on me.”
“I’m sorry I’m sorry. I’m not trying to pick on you!” She laughs, though.
“Every time I ask him something, I’m more confused,” you lower your voice as the two girls walk by and leave the bathroom.
“Did you google him? I gave you his full name.”
“No, I haven’t googled him. Why would I google him? Is that a joke? Who wears designer jewelry and has seven roommates?” You’re whispering, but trying to convey your irritation at the same time.
She laughs again.
“I have to get back out there before he thinks I got lost.”
“I’m glad you two like each other!”
“BYE”
Now all you can think about is figuring out who he is before you lay eyes on him again. But do you want to know now? Maybe later would be best, well after you’re home safe and the pressure is gone. The last thing you want is to make everything awkward.
But you’re very good at making things awkward.
A few seconds later you pull up the browser on your phone and type out his name. Why is she setting you up with someone you can google in the first place?
K i m S e u n g-
You stop and stare at the screen. No clues pop up in the auto search. It’s a very common name, but…
You finish. You hit ‘go’.
It loads quickly, and the first thing that pops up is his face. HIS face. Seungmin’s sweet face. Only his hair is much darker in this photo. But it’s him. The weird feeling of falling hits; you feel a little lightheaded. You thought he was a little odd and a little too good to be true, but this…
“Oh my god, you set me up with an idol.”
Another person enters the bathroom and you jump. They pay no attention to you, thankfully.
“And he’s five years younger than me.”
A deep breath in, and a long slow breath out. You’re back on your feet and out of the bathroom. Can you even remember where your table is? Yes, there it is. You see the back of Seungmins pretty head…he’s on his phone, texting it looks like.
Another nice, deep breath. Why the hell did she set you up with an idol? You’re not surprised you didn’t know who he was, though. You don’t listen to much pop music; even the kids at school haven’t introduced you to this particular group. The name doesn’t sound familiar, anyway. You have a few confiscated photocards in your desk drawer. You’re sure he’s not one of them, but you can’t wait to get back to school and check now.
You walk back over, calm and cool and not like you were just losing it a little in the bathroom.
“Welcome back!” He smiles as you sit and puts his phone away.
Now you look at him and realize just how good looking he is. Of course he’s an idol, what else could a face like that be? And he’s a main vocalist. He sings. You…kind of sing.
“So, Seungmin…”
He answers with a soft hmm? as he chews his food.
“Do you sing? Or play anything? You said earlier that you liked music.”
He nods and smiles, swallows his bite, “I sing, yes! And I like playing guitar and piano, but I don’t do that as often as I’d like.”
“I would love to hear you sing.” You say it sincerely, because you mean it. His speaking voice is so nice, you’re certain his singing voice is even more beautiful.
“I would love to hear you sing!” He adjusts himself in his chair like he’s trying to get himself closer to you, but there’s nowhere else to go. His face is somehow brighter. “We should do that…we should sing.”
“You wanna sing with me? I doubt I can sing as well as you.”
“We don’t know that!”
You rest your chin in your cupped hands and smile at him. He smiles, too. You think his smile might be your favorite thing about him. “I do know.” But there’s so many things to like.
“Oh,” his head cocks to the side a bit. Another thing you really like, and he does it a lot. He’s staring through you and it feels like he’s hearing every thought that’s currently flying around your brain. “You know?”
“What I don’t know is…” putting it into the right words is difficult for some reason, and your tone of voice has accidentally come out a little cold. You don’t want to come off as rude or ungrateful of his company. You like him, but it’s suddenly become a little bit weird, and very complicated. “I just don’t feel like we…” you stop again to think. You suddenly feel really stupid for talking at all. “I guess I just don’t understand why you seem to…like me.”
All of your insecurities have suddenly jumped to the front of the line, and it’s clouding your vision. The things you were so happy about before are now being pushed down by your own stupid, stupid thoughts.
“Hm?” Seungmin’s face falls a little. He’s sitting still, and for the first time, he’s stopped eating. He can really put away a lot of food for being so slender. “Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize, Seungmin. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just having-“
“Second thoughts.” He says it matter-of-factly; no inflection.
Everything you say now is coming out all wrong. The words in your head and the words coming out of your mouth aren’t matching up. Your heart is starting to pound, and you feel warm, but not in a good way. Not in the cute, blushy way Seungmin was making you feel before.
“Would you like me to take you home? I can get us a car. Or I can get you a car.” He wrings his hands and reaches for his phone.
“No, no don’t do that,” Your chest feels tight and your words almost get caught in your throat. You stop and think about your next words, because right now you’re not doing a great job of speaking. “I’m sorry, I’m really not very good at this. Dating, talking to people, getting my thoughts out properly.”
Seungmin puts his phone down on the table, thinks for a moment… “I do like you. But I haven’t been very honest, so I am very sorry for that. I would like to be honest with you, if you’ll stay.”
You look down at your lap and realize you’ve been squeezing Pochacco the entire time. You release him, run your thumb over him. “Yeah, I do wanna stay.”
His face his confused, innocent, and soft all at once as he stares at you. There’s a little concern there, as well. You can tell he’s wondering what happened in the few minutes you left the table. He also might be nervous about telling you who he is.
He clears his throat and takes a drink, preparing himself to tell you what you already know. You hate making him do this here.
“I know you’re an idol. You don’t have to explain anything.”
Relief washes over his face, and then slowly, realization. “Is that why you’re upset? You left the table…you were okay before that. Please don’t be angry with me.”
“I was just trying to figure you out. And I understand why you were hesitant about it.” You keep your voice as soft as possible, as steady as you can manage. You’re not angry at him. How you could you possibly be mad at him while he’s looking at you like that? “Maybe we can go back to before, when I didn’t know...”
“It’s so hard meeting people genuinely…people who don’t already know who you are.”
There’s a long silence between the two of you, and looking up at him again suddenly feels impossible. You stare down at your blank phone, almost hoping a text message will come through. Something needs to break the tension.
Nothing happens.
You almost feel like crying. Your throat tightens and your eyes start to sting from not blinking. “Can we go somewhere else?” The words finally come out of you. “Somewhere with less people.”
“Yeah, we can.”
____
It’s much colder now. And it’s late; well after midnight. You weren’t expecting the date to go on this long. In fact, you had the night planned for yourself once you got home. A few episodes of the drama you’re currently watching, and maybe a drink or two. Warm, under a big blanket.
But now you’re suddenly starring in your own drama.
Seungmin stands in front of you, blocking the slight breeze. You let out a big yawn.
“I’m sorry I’m keeping you out so late.” He steps a little closer when a gust of wind whips by.
“You’re not,” you try to smile at him, but your face feels a little numb. “I can leave whenever I want to, right?”
“Right.” He nods sharply. “Thank you for not leaving.”
“Would it be inappropriate to ask you back to my apartment?”
“Huh?” His mouth hangs open a little.
“I don’t know anywhere else where we could be alone.”
“Uhm, well, it would be a little inappropriate I guess. But I wouldn’t mind if you asked.”
A car pulls up to the curb next to you.
____
The apartment is not ready for any guests, especially not the celebrity variety. You left a mess on your way out—clothes all over the floor, dishes in the sink. But maybe it’s not as bad you’re imagining. This will strictly be a living room visit. And it won’t be long.
“This feels so strange.” He says as the elevator door slides opens on the 5th floor.
“What does? Going home with someone?”
“Yes.” Another blunt answer. His tone is still playful, even after what you’re putting him through. He follows you until you stop in front of your door and fumble with your keys.
You look back at him as you push open the door, “I won’t keep you here long, I promise.”
It’s not as bad inside as you were imagining. You shake his jacket off and hang it above the not-so-neat row of shoes inside the door. Seungmin slides his off and places them next to yours. “I can make you more coffee if you’d like.”
“Sure, if you’d like me to stay that long.”
“Sit.” You point to the couch and head to the kitchen.
Halfway through your work, you notice him leaning against the doorway of the kitchen. He watches silently. You pretend you don’t see him. Above you the fluorescent light buzzes and flickers a bit. It’s the only light in the kitchen right now. The warmth of the apartment and the smell of coffee brewing brings you back down to earth a bit, and you desperately need that before you start talking again.
Seungmin speaks up first, though. It startles you.
“I’m not really allowed to date.”
“What?” You take both mugs in your hands and walk closer to him.
“I mean, I am…but they prefer we don’t. At least not for a while. I would probably get in trouble if anyone recognized me while we were together earlier.” He takes his mug from you and holds it under his nose.
“Why?” Your mind snaps back to the girl eyeing you in the bathroom. You didn’t even think about it until now.
“Well, I didn’t get permission, for one thing. And it helps with keeping the idol illusion alive if we’re not seen with others like that.”
“I don’t want to get you into any trouble.”
He waves his hand at you, pushes away your words. “It’s okay. I get into trouble all the time.”
“Do you?”
Seungmin nods and smiles as he sips his coffee.
You grin at him.
Now that you’re alone together, finding the right words might come a little easier. The tv is on, volume low, just to break the dead silence in the room. He’s sitting back comfortably on your couch with his coffee to his lips, and his legs loosely crossed. You can’t help but watch them as his foot bounces.
Meanwhile, he’s looking at you with soft (maybe a little tired?) eyes. “You have me to yourself now.” His voice is a little tired, too. It makes him sound flirty and…well, you don’t wanna think about that too much.
A nod is all you can manage before speaks again.
“I like this one.”
“You like what?”
“This drama. I finished it recently.”
The silence is a little less tense now, but the room still feels heavy. “Did you really come out tonight to find a new friend?” You’re sweating. The heat is probably up too high, you need to open a window or something.
“Did you?” Now he’s sitting up a little and he pushes the sleeves of his hoodie up to his elbow.
It’s nice to see more of his skin. “No.” You watch his hands as they rub the denim on his thighs. “I should open a window, it’s a little warm in here.” You can feel his eyes on you as you walk to the other side of the room. It makes you nervous. You push the curtain aside, unlock the window, and slide it up.
The rush of cool air is exactly what you need. Your hear your phone buzz on the side table where you threw it. You pretend you don’t notice it when you get back to his side.
“Choonhee wants you…” he almost sings it. He must know you have no other friends.
You imagine one of the conversations between Seungmin and her; Choonhee would say something to make you sound so great and fun, but you don’t like putting yourself out there and making new friends, so you need little push now and then.
Which is entirely true.
“It’s not her,” you lie, just to throw him off for a moment.
“Oh, is it your next date?” His tone is so flat and dry, but the look on his face tells you he doesn’t really think that. Or maybe he’s not sure, and he wants to be sure.
Instead of answering, you just let your eyes linger on his while you pull open your messages.
Well? Are you home yet? Don’t make me worry
”Yes, I’m home. 'Kim Seungmin (ง¬᎑¬)ว' is here too”
Three bouncing dots pop up the second after you hit send. Probably the fastest she’s ever replied to you.
YOU TOOK HIM HOME WITH YOU??!!
And then another…
ԅ(‾⌣‾ԅ)
And more…
( ˵ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
(͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)ε`●)
◠◡◠(´ ͡༎ຶ ͜ꞈ ͡༎ຶ `)◡◠◡
"OKAY STOP IT", You finally reply
Okay okay sorry but you took him home with you???
”I felt weird asking him, but yes. I also felt weird being out in public when I found out who he was”
OH you knoooow. Okay. Just don’t do anything to him, I kinda forgot to mention he’s a bit younger
”Yeah, I figured that out on my own”
He’s a good boy
”Okay I’m done talking to you tonight”
You throw your phone on the table next to you.
Seungmin readjusts himself so he’s facing in your direction. “Have you watched Hometown Cha Cha Cha?”
There’s far less space between you and him now. His cheeks are pink. It’s still too warm in here.
“I have, yeah. Sorry, I can’t adjust the heat.” You don’t even know why you mentioned the heat. His closeness is throwing you off. You can feel his breath on you.
“I’m okay, this hoodie is just too cozy.” He pushes the sleeves back down and opts for removing it completely. He pulls it off very easily, but the back of his shirt pulls up along with it for a brief moment, showing you a little skin. He catches it quickly and shakes his head to fix his hair.
“I have a song in that one.” He says as he neatly rolls it and places it on the arm of the couch.
“You have a what?” Now you’re distracted my his thin black t-shirt hanging loosely on his shoulders.
He catches you staring at not his face, “a song…in that drama. You heard it I’m sure.”
“Oh, wow…you’re right, I’ve definitely heard you sing, then.” You grab the remote again and scroll until you find YouTube. It takes a stupid long time to load (“you have bad wifi up here” — “thanks, I know”) but once it finally does, you start typing his name into the search bar.
“The song is called Here Always. Your search will be full of lots of other weird things if you only search my name.”
“Oh, how weird?” You search anyway and investigate. “Vlogs…are these official idol vlogs?”
“Yes,” he laughs at that. “I’m filming one right now while on holiday. I didn’t bring my camera with me, though.”
“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t be in your vlog.”
“They’re usually pretty boring anyway.”
You search properly now, throwing the title of the song next to his name. You plan on watching those other videos later.
When you look at him, he has his hands cupped against his cheeks, and he sinks down in the couch a little.
“Are you being shy? You really don’t come off as the shy type.”
“No, I’m fine.” He giggles and relaxes a little.
Now you sit back against the couch, close enough to him that your arms are lightly touching. The video you choose is a clip compilation from the drama, so he at least won’t have to stare at himself as you listen.
Without realizing it, you manage to sink further into your seat as the song plays, and by the time it ends, your cheek is pressed firmly against the fabric on his shoulder. He hasn’t moved, though. So you don’t move. His body is warm and he smells nice, so why should you move? You decide to just stay put and let YouTube choose the next video.
The description says Love Poem, KINGDOM EP8. You can read the names, written in Hangul. Eunkwang, Seungmin, Jongho. You’re pleased with yourself, because your reading comprehension is not as good as it could be.
A soft sigh dances over your ear. You look up, trying not to disturb him too much. Seungmin is sleeping soundly, head back against the couch. You hate to wake him, but he definitely cannot spend the night here.
You want to hear more of his singing, though, so you watch it, and then another, and eventually you lose track of how many Seungmin compilation videos you’ve seen. Group interviews, Seungmin fancams. You almost forget you’re watching videos of the guy who’s sleeping next to you.
But it’s gotten so late. You carefully sit yourself up on your knees and look down on his sleeping face.
“Seungmin…” you whisper. He doesn’t move. His mouth opens a little as he lets out a deep breath, and you can just make out his front teeth against the light pink of his lips. “Seung-“
His eyes open slowly, and he lets out a long, drawn out hmmm before closing his eyes again.
“Hey, you gotta wake up,” you go to place your hand against his forehead, but stop yourself. “Neoneun il-eonaya hae.”
“Your Korean sounds nice,” he opens his eyes again and watches you set your hand back down on the top of the couch. “Say something else.”
You think, not knowing what to say now.” Uh…uhm, neo janeun moseub-i gwiyeowo boyeo.” You speak carefully, maybe a little too carefully, but Seungmin smiles deeply and fully.
And then he laughs a little. A very sleepy laugh. “Gomawo.” He sings out the o at the end little, making it sound even more informal than it should be. “I’m awake. I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright, I’m glad you’re comfortable. But maybe next time.”
“Maybe next time?”
“You can stay.”
“I can stay?”
You nod, and a brief moment of boldness runs through you. You pick your hand up again and set it against his forehead, pushing his hair up and out of the way. He lets you touch him without protest, in fact, he seems to relax even more under you.
His eyes close, but after a few second, he opens one a little to look at you. “Well?” He says.
“Well…what?”
“I thought you were going to kiss me.”
Your whole body heats up, and you quietly suck in a breath, but you keep your voice from showing how much that knocked you off balance. “Do you want me to kiss you?”
His head moves back and forth a little like he’s thinking about it, and that forces you hand up further into his hair. “Only if you want to.”
You do, so when he closes his eyes again, you carefully lean in and hover just above his lips. You’re not sure when you’ll see him again after tonight, so you want to take in as much of the moment as possible. His eyes open again, and he stares at you. They slowly move down your face until they find your mouth. You quickly close the space and he returns the kiss eagerly, but very gently.
It lasts much longer than you expect it to. He sits up and cups your cheek in his hand as he finds a better position, but it only lasts a few more seconds after that. He pulls away slowly and wipes at his lower lip as he watches you.
No words come to mind, so you just keep quiet and look at him.
“Was that okay?” Seungmin asks. He’s all braces, and the apples of his cheeks are flushed.
“Yeah, that was okay,” You have to force yourself not to go for his mouth a second time. “I’ve never kissed someone with braces before.”
He covers his mouth with the back of his hand, but he still smiles behind them. “Was it weird?”
“No, it wasn’t.” You lean in, move his hand, and kiss him again.
When you pull apart, he rakes his fingers through his hair and relaxes sideways against the couch so his body is still turned toward you. You quietly look at each other; you wish you could read his mind. All that’s going through your head is that this is it. This is all you get. You probably won’t see him again.
Not that he’d purposely ghost you; he doesn’t look the type. But his lifestyle doesn’t seem to allow for the type of relationship you want. You’re way too clingy for this.
“How often do you come home on holidays?”
“Not often enough,” he looks at you like he now knows what you’re thinking. “I’m sorry.”
You place your hand on the back of his neck and pull him into another kiss. And then a phone goes off.
“Oh it’s me,” Seungmin takes his phone from his back pocket and looks at his screen, “I’m sorry, I have to answer this.”
“It’s alright, go ahead.”
He gets up from the couch and answers the call. You can tell from Seungmins tone and language that whoever it is is older, probably one of his roommates, most likely the same one who texted him hours ago. You try not to pry, but it’s impossible not to listen in this small apartment, and it’s useless to ignore when you’re only getting half of the conversation. Your brain just naturally wants to fill in the rest.
“….mos han geo…mianhae…”
He turns and faces you, gives you a shy smile.
“Na jigeum jib-e ganeun jung-Iya”
A few more exchanged words and he ends the call. He returns to the couch, but doesn’t sit again, so you stand with him. He grabs his hoodie and throws it back on without a word, but he does look at his phone again.
“Do you have a ride home?”
Seungmin smiles warmly at you and steps closer, “yes, I have a ride on the way now.”
You assumed he did. He probably has people ready to wait on him at anytime of the day or night. You assume. Honestly, you have no idea what an idols private life is really like. Except for this date, of course.
“I should head down to the lobby, it shouldn’t take long for them to arrive.”
“Can I go with you? To wait in the lobby, I mean.”
He’s halfway to his shoes when he stops and turns to you, “yes, I would like that.”
____
It’s chilly down here, but it’s empty and quiet. You sit closely together on the sofa while he shows you a video on his phone.
“They always steal my phone for livestreams and videos, so I have so much on here.”
The video was taken by one of the other members in his group, because Seungmin is in this one. They’re backstage goofing off with each other, eating, taking selfies, taking photos of each other.
“When is this from?”
“Three months ago. We were in Busan.” He goes back to his album and pulls up a photo he took of himself and another member. “This is from the same night.”
“I like your makeup here,” you zoom in on his face, and then back out. “You have very pretty eyes.”
He smiles and rubs his shoulder into yours a little.
“Who is this with you?”
“That’s Chan, the one who just called me. He’s our leader, and he takes his responsibility to us very seriously.”
“Well, I’m glad he cares about you so much.”
Just as he locks his phone, a notification comes through. His ride is pulling up in front of the apartment building, and it’s time for him to leave.
“Seungmin…” you stand with him and walk toward the doors. “I know you’re probably very busy, but would it be okay if I kept in touch? And I understand if that wouldn’t work.” You feel very bold just bringing it up, but if he doesn’t, you’ll be left wondering until Choonhee finds out for you. You need to know now.
“I don’t think we’d make very good friends,” he laughs and grabs your arm gently, tugging you a little closer.
You pull him the rest of the way into a hug and hold him there for as long as possible. “We wouldn’t.”
“Goodnight. Thank you for not leaving in the middle of our date.”
You squeeze him a little tighter, thinking about how you’ve never had a first date where you actually had difficulty letting the person leave.
“Wow,” when you finally let him go he stares down at you, “nice hug. I will get your number from Choonhee, and I will text you. If that’s alright.”
“You better.”
“Goodnight.”
He turns, walks through the doors, and disappears into the back of a car. And then he’s gone.
You wait there for a few more moments before heading back up the elevator and into your apartment.
His scent is lingering in the warm room. You close the door behind you and turn to kick off your shoes. His denim jacket is hanging on the hook in front of you.
445 notes · View notes
lexisecretaccx · 5 months
Text
A+ Student pt.3
Other parts on my Masterlist!
(Fem reader, kinda drama at the start, slight angst, smut☺️, suggestive, not revealing who the smut is with xoxo, not proofread!)
Summary: Y/n is a great student in her college, always getting good grades. Her college professor Matt, thinks she can get even higher ones with some “extra credit.” That is until she meets her new gym teacher..
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The next day..
I couldn’t sleep well, I was stressing out about Matt and Chris and everything going on. I walk into the English lecture 5 minutes late, I didn’t mean to I was just lacking on time. Matt is at the front of the class, not teaching even thought the lecture started already.
“Now we can start.” Matt spoke as I walked up to my seat. I noticed Kelly sat at the front of the class watching Matt the same way I used to when I first met him.. with utter devotion.
I can’t help but feel a sense of jealousy fill me even though he doesn’t seem to be paying attention to her. That is until she raises her hand to answer a question that I also raised my hand to answer. “Kelly?” He spoke.. he let her answer it instead of me. I mean that’s okay I shouldn’t answer all the questions.
“Is it option 2?” She asks him, smiling cheesily. He breathes through his teeth, “that’s the wrong question but,” he leans on her desk. “We can work on getting you up to pace.” He smiles before patting her shoulder and walking past her slightly. He patted her shoulder. He does that to me, that’s our thing! Why am I feeling like this?
“Y/n?” He asks me, bringing my attention from her to him. “Hm?” I hum sadly. “Do you know the answer?” I sigh before shrugging. “You had your hand raised.” He spoke again, “yeah but I wasn’t gonna answer the question, it’s fine now.” I look back down to my notes. “Okay..” he says hesitantly before telling us all the correct answer.
“Is this right?” Kelly giggles, he leans down to her notes before nodding, “yeah good girl.” He smiles and looks straight at me. I don’t know why I feel so jealous but he calls me that. Why is he treating her how he treated me? It isn’t fair I thought he liked me. Why-
My thoughts are cut off by the door opening and Thomas walking in, “you’re late.” Matt instantly spoke, “sorry..” he mumbled. He came and sat next to me, smiling briefly before looking at me fully. “Are you ok?” He whispered, I sighed sadly, “yep.” I lied.
“Sorry you have to help me in the lessons.” He looked down, “it’s okay don’t apologise, it’s a distraction at least.” I smiled at him and he smiled softly. We continue the lessons and I help him out and we chat and he’s a sweet kid. I keep glancing at Matt, who I find watching me and Thomas. I was scribbling on a random piece of paper, doing doodles and stuff and Thomas noticed.
He drew a little reindeer on the corner of my page, causing me to chuckle gently. “That’s a good deer.” I smile. “Thank you.” He smiles back. “Stop talking.” Matt made me jump as he stood right next to me. “Sorry.” Thomas muttered.
Matt hands me a note, it read. Stay after class, we need to talk about yesterday - professor Sturniolo I shook my head. “What?” He whispered, “I don’t want to do that.” He scoffs, “it wasn’t a question.” He walks to Kelly and starts talking to her.
“Hey I gotta leave right now but here’s one of my notes that’ll help you okay?” I say quietly to Thomas, who smiles at me and nods. “No worries.” I pack my stuff away and get up. I walk past Matt and Kelly who were laughing and giggling and I go to walk out, “where are you going?” Matt spoke. “Bathroom.” I lied before walking out fully and making my way down to the hallway.
I look at the sign on the wall GYM I walk in, luckily nobody is in there. I see Chris near the storage cupboard door, “Chris.” I say and he turns around quickly. “Oh hey! Shouldn’t you be in Matts class right now?” He tilts his head. “Yeah but he was flirting with some new girl, purposely to upset me.” I sigh.
He scoffs, “he’s a dick y/n, you should know that.” He laughs. I laugh softly, “what’re you doing?” I look at the basketballs and dodgeballs on the floor. “Putting these away in here,” he motions to the cupboard, “wanna help?” He smirks. I nod before placing my bag on the bench next to his laptop. I pick up a basketball and take it into the cupboard that was larger than I thought.
“Where do I put them?” Chris kicks all of them into the cupboard with me and walks in, closing the door behind him. “There.” He points at a bag full of dodgeballs and one full of basketballs.
He turns the lock and I look to him, “uh.. am I being kidnapped or what’s the plan here?” I chuckle. He joins in before walking up to me, “one more to put away.” He leans into me, handing me a dodgeball. I nod quickly. I put it in the bag and turn around back to him. “Can I leave now or..” I smile, he walks up infront of me, I lean my back against the wall.
“You know how I like to take risks?” He whispers in my ear, I nod. “Can this be one of them?” He breaths out against the skin on my neck, “yeah..” I feel myself get hot at this sudden experience. He plants kisses against my neck, “you know the good thing is..” he spoke against my skin. “There’s no cameras in here or in the gym..” his hand travels down to my skirt.
“You wear this for Matt?” He grins against my skin. I shake my head, part lying. “Maybe skip gym class today, this’ll be all the exercise you need hm..” he kisses a sweet spot under my ear causing me to fold. “Okay..” I whisper in a trance.
“Do you want all of me or do you just want me to make you feel good, I don’t mind either.” His hand rests at my skirt “i want all of you.. please.” I nod before he pulls my skirt off, leaving me in my white undies. “Fuck..” he mutters. He removes his own sweatpants, leaving him in his black boxers, a slight visible imprint of his cock.
I swallow harshly as his hand strokes my clothed cunt slightly, making me moan softly. “Fuck.” He whispers, wasting no time to remove my panties and pulling his boxers off revealing his large dick, a vein prominent down the side. My eyes widen at the sight, “you’re big..” i say smirking slightly, “Don’t stroke my ego y/n.” He smirks back at me.
His hands find place on the back of thighs as he connects our lips in a kiss. I feel more of a passion in this kiss with him, my hand tangles in his hair and the other one rests around the back of his neck. One of his hands slip between my thighs as he places pressure on my clit and starts to rub circles on it.
I moan into the kiss and my grip in his hair tightens and we deepen the kiss. He removes his hand causing me to whine slightly from the loss of pressure, he grips my thighs and lifts me up, breaking the kiss to look down. “You ready?” He says lining himself up with my entrance holding me up as my back is leant against the wall.
“Yes.. please.” I lean my head into his shoulder. He lowers me down onto his member and I let out a loud moan, muffled by his shoulder. I hear a groan grumbling in his throat as I sink down fully until nothing more fits. He starts to lift me up and down on him and i bite my lip to hide my moans, my arm wraps around his shoulder as the other one is placed on his bicep. He pulls my back off the wall so I’m only supported by his arms holding me up.
He’s more muscular than Matt, and he’s nicer. But why do I still feel guilty? I don’t have a reason.. I am taken out of my thoughts by Chris’ tip hitting my g spot. I moan loudly and dip my head into his shoulder even further, gripping his bicep so hard I swear I left marks. To stop myself from moaning so loudly I bury my head into his neck and place kisses, sucking slightly.
He moans out deeply, continuing to bounce me on his cock. “Fuck I’m close y/n..” he groans out, his tip repeatedly kissing my g spot as his movements become sloppier. “I’m gonna cum..” I whimper slightly. The knot in my stomach tightens and snaps as I release all over the base of his dick. “Should.. I pull out?” He whines.
I forgot he didn’t put a condom on, it all happened so fast but luckily I’m on the pill for situations like this. “I’m on the pill..” I breathe out, my body feeling weak and limp, he has slowed his movements as to not overstimulate me. “Fuck..” he groans, his head falling on my shoulder as I feel him shoot his cum inside of me.
I wish this moment could’ve lasted forever but sadly it can’t. “Shit that was.. your perfect.. fuck.” Chris groans as he lifts me off of him slowly, as my feet hit the ground my leg goes limp and I stumble. He laughs slightly, placing his underwear and sweatpants back on and helping me with mine.
“We should do this again.” I suggest, smirking at him as I try to adjust my clothes. “Yeah def-” the bell rings. Both of our eyes widen, this is signalling that it is the break period. We need to get out of the closet before anyone comes into the gym.
He unlocks the door and I walk out quickly, rushing to my bag to brush out my slightly messed up hair. “See you next period.” Chris walks out the closet after me smirking, my mouth drops slightly. His face drops too, “what?” He speaks anxiously, I hadn’t realised my ‘light’ kissing and sucking on his neck was much more.. harder.
There’s 3 hickeys on the side of his neck. “When I kissed your neck.. I accidentally gave you hickeys.” I whisper and his eyes widen before relaxing. “Ah it’s fine, no one will know who gave them to me.” He smirks and I nod, “okay.. can I stay here for break? I don’t feel like walking much right now.” I sigh and he chuckles cockily.
“Fuck you.” I roll my eyes and laugh.
“You already did.”
A/n: hehehehehhe fucking love writing smut. Sorry I can only write this every weekend I’m just super busy during the week bc of exams and shit like that! Love yall tho! Hope u enjoyed this part I think it’s pretty long lol😭😂 am I making u all mad at Matt yet?🤭
Taglist: @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @mattybslover @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @bueckerssturns @fratbrochrisgf @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @certifiednatelover @freshsturns @riasturns @sturniololvrrr @maryx2xx @whicked-hazlatwhore @cammie4298 @sturnsjtop @sturnzblog @chr1sgirl4life @evie-sturns @milasturniolo @jaxyy219 @mattsturniolosbae @h3arts4harry @littlebookworm803
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ham1lton · 4 months
Note
you said u read ao3 fics! what are your f1 recs?
ahhh!!!!! this is the best question you could have ever asked me like ever i love you so much. i’ve been dying to talk abt this for a hot minute. i opened myself up to any sort of ship mostly because i cared more abt the fic quality then the ship you know? kinda glad i did it because my fav ones are not necessarily ships i am a fan of. it’s really long so i put it under a read more!!
okay so number one has to be the fic that was my first fav f1 fic. this is steal the air out of my lungs (make me feel it). now this has a lot of elements that i love. guy who’s in his own head vs other guy who’s also in his own head but pretends he isn’t. also idk why but i’m always a sucker for a good medical au and this one fucking delivers!!! another maxiel fic i read was three rounds and a sound which has coffee shop owner daniel w/ stressed out student max. a lot of introspection but it’s also unfolding while the romance is. idk i just love this. it’s so good. last maxiel fic is come on, star boy which is a alt universe where daniel is the american guy he always wanted to be and max is the new transfer to his small town’s football team. it isn’t just incredibly written but everyone feels so real and vivid. i can visually see this in my mind everytime i read it. i listened to a lot of ethel cain while reading so that helped. i love this so much and the brocedes in the background?? you’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves youuu 🗣️
i’m not really a landoscar girl, i’m gonna be honest. however, where i am going is right where i am, is just incredible. alt universe where the drivers live on a street version of stars hollow? brocedes that influence everything even though they’re long over? charles being insane over max? pierre hating on esteban every second that is possible (i was laughing every time he would just cuss his ass out unprovoked) and annoying george being their street’s version of gilmore girls’ taylor?? what more do u need in ur life?? also oscar in this fic is just my dream man. i think a croissant from him would fix me. actually i read a lot of this author’s landoscar fics and they’re so cute i was sending kudos as much as i can. like already home! just want to bite them both and put them in my pocket. they’re so obviously in love i want to shake them down and scream and smoosh them together. lawyer!oscar i love you. check out their profile!! incredible writer :)))
i’m also not a galex truther but the two of us, in sympathy is so cute!! rich boy!george with broke junior doctor!alex. george attempting to court alex and just absolutely failing. i love it. they’re such a mess i need them in my life. also this loscar future fic is so intense but incredible. i’m really bad at describing but i binged it on my train home and i was really glad i did - i promised to forget you now.
the reason i even got into f1 aka brocedes. this fic i think was one of the first i read. on the faultline which is just amazing. i can’t recommend it enough. read it if u can. another fav is a brocedes threesome with their toxic fucking each other via proxy aka new money, and it’s all cash. cute brocedes!! nico thinks lewis is his sworn enemy but everyone knows otherwise. roseberg’s vs haminkton. this was so cute and funny. cause why was nico saying lewis, the owner of a tattoo shop was stealing business from him… when he owns a florists… he’s so dramatic i want to tuck him in my pocket. this job will take my sole has the same premise but they’re both shoe shops which makes a lot more sense. i just love stupid rivalries and dramatic nico.
now back to my sweethearts, the lights of my life, the fires of my heart - sewis. all of these fics have past brocedes just for context. every tongue should confess talks about religion and queer identity in such a nuanced and delicate way? i adored this fic. transmotion which is another alt universe with fashion designer!lewis and footballer!sebastian both figuring out their careers, themselves and their relationship. maybe together we can get somewhere - this is an mpreg fic which usually isn’t for me but it’s about seb and lewis going on a road trip for an abortion and it’s so good. honestly the ending line of ‘it’s a good feeling, to know that sebastian’s outstretched hand is right there.’ it just stuck with me. i loved it. the numbering at bethlehem which is thee sewis fic to me. professor au?? this was made for me. like perfectly moulded. everything about this is art. i could do a full essay on this fic. just read it, it’s incredible. just amazing. sebastian as the child prodigy who has nowhere else to climb?? i love them both in this fic so much!!! tnab sewis get behind me!! i’m gonna protect u!!
okay i’m sorry this is so long. i just love art. i love writing. i just love the work these authors’ have spent putting together these masterpieces for free!! check them out!! leave kudos!! comment!! <3
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h-harleybaby · 1 year
Note
i saw that u did a cartman confesses out of horniness could u do one for kenny if comfortable
Ofccccc
It fits Kenny tbh
Btw this isn’t proof read at all I wrote it, read over it once and called it a day
HAS NSFW CONTENT
Kenny confessing out of horniness hcs
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• Yeah, Kenny's a perv and he's pretty horny but he has to be EXTREMELY pent up to confess out of horniness
• Like he's always kinda horny ya know? It's nothing out of the ordinary
• Then you come along, and his sense of self respect is out of the window. It's dead, you killed it
• He absolutely believes you're the prettiest person he's ever seen, like his breath was taken away. He's probably joked about how you're this goddess
• And his friends are like, side eyeing him all concerned. They haven't even seen you so they're wondering what the hell he was going on about. Kyle straight up puts his hand to Kenny's forehead to see if he was ok because he really didn't seem like he was 💀
• He's a complete simp before y'all even start dating, and tbh he's probably tried making you jealous before. Jokes on him, it didn't really work
• Kenny doesn't really feel bad about jerking off to you, it's natural right?
• When he does confess to you he's pretty straight forward and kinda romantic, he doesn't want you to think the reason he's in for anything is because him being horny. No, he genuinely likes you and thinks you're super nice!
• He treats you really well, he might go a little fast but it's always up to you. He never wants to make you feel uncomfortable LIKE EVER
• Y'all work up to sex tbh, he doesn't go immediately to thigh fucking like Cartman does
• Tbh I like to think you're a smidge inexperienced, like you can get off by yourself but it feels awkward and kinda weird ya know? Kenny probably makes a joke about being inexperienced and you're like “wellllll 👉👈”
• Yeah anyway back to my point, he's definitely the one who kinda showed you everything you love. He knows you and exactly what you like
• He's super good at eating you out tho, it's his favorite thing to have you sit on his face. Bonus points if you're more on the plus sized side/plus sized. HEAR ME OUT, TALL ASS TWIG KENNY AND HIS PLUS SIZED GF???? SKINNY NERD AND HIS THICC GF <3333333
• Kenny loves eating you out, he likes being under you and having you ride his face. It's like, his favorite past time. He feels good when you do
• Yeah anyways it's starts off as fingering/handjobs and oral because he wants to ease you into everything
• Sex is fucking mind-blowing tho, he knows what he's doing (cough somewhat cough) and he always makes sure you're good with everything he does
• Bro goes multiple rounds and probably eats you out at the end because he has a problem
• You're probably like, on the verge of passing out because shit, that was g o o d
• And Kenny's just like "hey sweetheart I can run you a bath or get you food or something, you want anything?"
• I like to think he's really doting when he's doing aftercare because he cares about you a lot, also he wants to make sure he wasn't doing too much
I HAVE A F E E L I N G someones gonna ask for Kyle next and I'm already preparing myself/brainstorming for when someone does
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websterss · 8 months
Text
TILL DEATH DO US PART — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD
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REQUEST: okay so i’ve thought about sending requests your way and my mind came up blank except for a reversed-roles kinda thing for lockwood & co, in which that scene from the last episode where lucy goes to george to save him from the crazy lady (forgot her name) with the bone mirror, instead it’s reader but she doesn’t handle it as well as lucy and pass out or something (your choice, i just want angst) and although lockwood has been shot in the shoulder, he doesn’t care. all he cares about is if reader is gonna be okay 👀 (i just want some good ol’ angst written by you so i can die a little bit inside but also thrive in reading your writing 🥺🫶🏼)
WARNING(S): angst, some fluff at the end
WORD COUNT: 4,214
PAIRING: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    
A/N: Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!
MASTERLIST
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You didn’t quite know how you three had managed to end up locked in an underground cellar with Pamela. You couldn’t so much as put the fault onto George. He had put his sole faith and trust into their supposed friendship. He was too swayed by what he thought were good intentions, only to realize they were nothing but sick twisted purposes. Purposes that were going to put so many others at risk. 
“Please!” George begged. “Lucy, don't he’ll kill you.”
“Don’t you dare look, and whatever happens this wasn’t your fault. This was my choice.”
“Lucy, don't you dare.” You groan after having been jostled and shoved to the ground as George had. 
Lucy just turned to you, her features softening as she whispered with pure sincerity and concern in her voice. Her soft-as-the-sky eyes glowed in the darkness like twin lanterns and with a little sigh she replied, “…I have to.”
"No. You don't. We all get to make choices, and I'm making mine now." You walk up to her and hit her with the hilt of your rapier.  You hold your breath as she falls unconscious. You're quick to drag her over to George where he remains on the ground. "S-Shield her eyes, and whatever happens...don't look." You nod firmly at George.
George didn’t hesitate, shielding Lucy from the horror unfolding before them, but couldn’t help looking back to you. He seemed both concerned and terrified at the same time. “Lockwood won't like this!"
"He'll get over it!" You take your place in front of the mirror. Eyes flickering back and forth between Pamela and the covered mirror.
The air around you feels thick and oppressive. You feel sick and dizzy as the sense of impending doom and horror fills your body with a paralyzing chill. You look at the mirror, at Pamela, and the thought of what is to come sears across your mind.
You take a deep breath. With shaking hands, you await her response. “Tell me everything you see, what you feel, and what you hear.” She yanks a pin out from her hair. Then points the recorder towards you. “Every detail.” She says as a final word, then yanks back the cloth. You turn around immediately, feeling a rush of air and suction claw on the back of your hair and shoulders. “Look, look, look. Damn you, look!” Pamela exclaims.
You gasp as you reach forward, grabbing the silver-glass jar, the skull, and hold it out behind you to look at the mirror in your place.
"If you can talk to it, tell me what it says.”
You groan, closing your eyes tightly, trying to fight off the urge to look into the horrid mirror. You growl as you yell back to the damned skull. "Talk...Take it all in and tell your master what you see." Lockwood and George, even Lucy had been astonished when you all discovered that you could also communicate and hear the type three ghost. Your heart plummets as you hear the skull begin to wail.
“No, no, no, this isn’t right! Something’s changed!” Your breath shudders upon the information he has given you. “They’re trapped!”
“What? What? What is he saying? Speak, girl Speak!” Pamela grips her recorder tighter.
“It says something is wrong!”
“More!”
“It’s a trap. We have to destroy it!” You begin to whimper as it all grows to be too much for you to handle. You hold your breath as glimpses of your past flash in your mind. Stills of your parents before your tenth birthday. Finding them ghost-locked after coming home from Fittes. Horrid wretched flashes and faces of previous visitors you and the boys were called on to take a job about. Being pinned by a type two. Your breath grows cold upon being nearly ghost-locked yourself. But the one vision that struck you the most, that made you lose your grip on making it through this was seeing yourself hold Anthony in your arms as his eyes were milky, his brown irises glazed over white and still. You could see yourself crying and begging him to come back to you. Your eyes shot upon with a startle. You could feel yourself loosen your hold on the jar before you took it down with you to the ground. All you could hear was a faint yell of your name before you slipped into the dark void that clouded your mind.
“Y/n!” George hadn’t even hesitated to get onto his feet to tackle down the stand holding the mirror. 
“No!” Pamela cries out. George ran back over to where you lay unconscious. His hands were still tied behind his back but he still attempted to check for your pulse. He visibly relaxed as he came to feel your pulse thump against his skin. 
“You’re alright, you’re alright now...Lockwood will come soon and it’ll all be over soon.” He flinched, looking over his shoulder as he heard shuffling to his right. Lucy groaned, clutching at her head as she pushed herself off the ground. 
“Blood hell...” She complained, but one look at your unmoving body had her scooting closer to the two of you. She reached forward, brushing a few strands out from your face. Her palm resting against your cheek. “Is she...” She raised a brow at George. Thinking the worst of the worst. Your death at the hands of Pamela.
“No. She’s alright. Assumed the mirror struck her energy a bit. It was too much for her to handle.” 
“Lockwood is gonna-”
“Kill us.”
“I was going to say put her on house arrest but sure let’s assume the worst reactions possible. 
“Before we arrived. He practically begged her to run off and call DEPRAC. She was top priority...” Lucy muttered to herself thinking back on what Lockwood debriefed before they came to face Pamela. 
“Top priority?” George questioned. “Y/n?”
“Before we left, he mentioned how the mirror came close to being our second priority. I asked him out of curiosity what the first priority was. He didn’t answer me.” Lucy looks down at you with a new sense of understanding. The bond you and Lockwood shared was one like no other. Two souls brought together by unfathomable circumstances. Orphaned from the same cause, the same path that lead your loved ones to be unalive. To halves that made a whole. Who understood what was put at risk every day you stepped out into London’s busy and haunted streets. You both knew the sacrifices that were the hardest to make, but you both took them on over Lucy and George having to. The little family you both found yourselves, you put your whole lives and trust into. You were everything to one another, and that was a risk in itself. “Lockwood is going to have our heads...” She breathed out in realization.
“I think he knows that already.”
“What?” George gestured behind her with a grimace. Lockwood was standing a few feet away, clutching his shoulder. His eyes rotated from Lucy and George and onto your unmoving form. 
“Shit...” Lucy swallowed nervously as he let his rapier clatter to the floor. 
“Is she?” Lockwood swallowed his words down, not having the stomach to contemplate whether you remained with them or if you had finally joined alongside your parents and his. Lockwood took a few more agonizing steps towards your motionless form, his expression looking both exhausted and afraid. His fingers reach out but fall back down to his sides. He was only thankful you couldn’t see him tremble, as he held back on the urge to break down crying.  
“She’s okay...swear it.” Lucy nodded, a timid smile on her face as her eyes watered. 
Lockwood's eyes began to water from the sight. For an agent, death would be nothing more than a common occurrence. However, this was a different scenario, as a few tears streamed down his face. Before he could take another step forward, George finally free from his zip ties, carefully lifted you in a gentle motion, trying to prop you upwards. Lockwood hurried forward then, hands trembling as he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into a seating position. Your head lulling sideways at an uncomfortable angle. Lockwood's eyes darted all across your form, desperately hoping to find some kind of response from you.
"She took on the mirror...It was too much for her to handle. She fainted from it." George filled him in on what occurred.
Lockwood's breaths grew out of rhythm as he kept your body in place, trying to keep his hands from shaking. His fingers trembled at a furious pace as he placed his hand against your neck, needing to feel for himself for a pulse. To reassure him that you weren’t taken from him. It was a moment that felt like hours had passed. He spoke. “Did she look at it?” They could hear the panic in his voice.
"N-No. She used the skull." Anthony glanced over to where the type three ghost swirled around, displaying its very much livelihood. He wished the same for your state.
Lockwood's sigh of relief was palpable in the atmosphere. He withdrew his head from your shoulder and pressed his head gently against yours, his eyes closing shut. The only thing keeping him from losing it was the slight thump against his fingertips on your neck, it had his entire demeanor relaxing. Though it didn't calm his nerves. "She'll be alright," he promised George, who seemed to be on the verge of panic himself. "She'll be quite alright." He muttered softly as though the tiniest change in his tone would cause him to fall apart. 
Lucy was at a crossroads, her instincts screaming at her how badly she wanted to rush into Lockwood's arms to comfort him at this moment, but she had her priorities straight. You had taken her place. This wasn’t out of the ordinary for you and it angered Lockwood because you never stopped putting yourself before others.
"She knocked me out and took my place. I wouldn't have let her if I knew-" Anthony retracted from you and looked over to Lucy, having her own breakdown.
Knowing of your bond, she knew what losing you would do to him. The last thing she wanted was to add any more stress to his plate and his already heavy heart. “I know. It’s alright Luce...” Lockwood gave her a firm nod. He then turned back to you. Lockwood was staring at what you referred to as your imperfections, a freckle here, a scar against your temple there, and the crease in your brows, to him they were what made you simply perfect in his eyes. He couldn’t help the frown on his lips, the frown on your own lips not sitting well with him. Had you fainted in pain? Were you still in pain? It didn’t shake him as badly as your closed eyes did. He wanted nothing more than to peer into them again. Find a home in them once more. He willed and hoped them to finally open so that he could see that you were alright. 
He lied, your pulse hadn’t been enough, he needed to see you awaken for him to even function correctly. He needed his mind to think about anything else, something else so he asked.
“What marvelous object did she acquire this time...” He scoffed. “My first encounter with her was with the end of an umbrella.”
"The butt of her rapier," Lucy said. "Shit hurt..." She rubbed against the side of her temple.
“A rapier?” He breathed a small laugh. “I see you weren’t quite original this time...” A small smile appeared in Lockwood's eyes as he leaned forward again. His hand lowered to wrap around your fingers, all the while as he carefully placed your head upon his shoulder. His other hand brushed against your cheek, making note of your temperature. “Her hands are getting cold.”
"Is that bad?"
“Y/n. Can you hear me?” He lifted your head from his shoulder. “Her circulation is slowing. Our time frame for waking her up is shrinking.” It's always an internal struggle for him to remain composed, but he had to be strong for the lot of them.
"Where did Pamela go?" George began panicking. He grew weary seeing her hunched over the broken mirror.      
“Leave her, George!" Lockwood let out his frustration at the situation. “She’s not our priority right now.”
“You stupid boy. You broke it!” Pamela whined.
Lockwood turned to look back at Pamela, who was whining about the broken mirror as Lucy’s attempts to bring you back to consciousness were becoming more futile. Lockwood’s patience was wearing thin, and Pamela’s words were doing nothing but adding fuel to the flames.
“We need to go! Now!” Lockwood urged the two of them. As he was already attempting to pick you up, especially with his bad shoulder still bleeding out. The exhaustion hadn’t yet reached him, his adrenaline running rampant. 
Lockwood's words were cut short as he stumbled, dropping you to the ground. His bad shoulder had given way to the exhaustion that now began to consume him. He was losing his grip on everything. “Lucy...” he was pleading now. 
“We’ve got her, let’s go!” Lucy assured his panic, and swung your arm over her shoulder, George taking your other arm.
“Don’t drop her…” Lockwood barked out, as he struggled to maintain a standing position. The exhaustion finally started to take hold of him as his knees buckled beneath him. With his body starting to tremble and lose its grasp, he let out a deep groan, his breath shallowing from the physical exertion.
"Go!" Lucy ordered out of frustration. She admired his concern and care about you but not when their lives were currently on the line and a crazy bitch was staring into the mirror she tried forcing them to look into.
He didn’t want to allow any room for arguing.
-
Anthony had fallen unconscious as the lift back up. His body lay next to yours as George, Lucy, and Kipps adjusted the both of you. The last thing Anthony recalls was lightly pressing his hand on top of yours before he succumbed to the exhaustion that ransacked his body. He felt as though a train drove right into him, though at least now he could say he’s faced down the barrel of a gun and lived to tell the tale. You’d find it humorous. You always thought highly of his jokes and gave him a laugh when most never bothered. He’d give anything to hear you bubble out of joy. See you double over from the loss of air in your chest. He’d give anything...everything.
After the paramedics patched him up and reduced him to an arm sling, he hung back as you lay on the gurney behind him. He twisted in his seat, keeping a watchful eye on you, waiting, willing the universe to spare him and have your fingers twitch, or have you shift around. He needed some peace of mind.
Though the universe was not kind, your body remained lifeless in a state of deep slumber. Lockwood’s heartbeat grew heavier the longer he waited on the back of the ambulance, his mind flooded with the worst-case scenarios. That this would be the last time, that that smile of yours that could charm anyone with ease would be lost. If he was to lose you, then he had nothing left. Nothing and no one. His hand continued to shake as he felt himself become more and more of a wreck. He couldn’t breathe...he wouldn't be able to breathe...and he knew he’d whole himself in his room if you didn’t-
“Will the Mrs live to see another day?”
Anthony looked over at Inspector Barnes. He gestured to your stilified state. He had hoped his joke would upturn the tension but if presumed he hadn’t after Lockwood scoffed and rolled his eyes, adverting his gaze away and back where they longed to remain, solely on you.
“What’d the paramedics say?” He asked again.
“She’s alright...Nothing we couldn’t figure out ourselves. The pressure from the mirror exhausted her to the point of fainting. She’s stable...she’s surpassed every checkup they ministered with flying colors...”
“Yet...” Barnes trailed off.
“They don’t have the slightest clue as to why she won’t wake up. They already tried to but...” Lockwood didn’t want to say it out loud, but speaking it into existence confirmed his worst fears, that even though your vitals were good, and your body reacted well to the fluids they gave you, something was seriously wrong, if not physically, then mentally and that scared him more than anything else. “I have this inclining...”
"Lockwood-" Barnes began.
“I know what you’re going to say. Have hope. Remain optimistic as we’ll continue to observe her, monitor her vitals, hell test her blood. But what good will that do when we’ve done it already…” He paused, the exhaustion growing with every passing moment. “What if she never wakes up?” Lockwood’s breath shudders.
“You both know of the risks–“ Barnes tries to reason.
“We’ve been in the business of risk exposure for years. We don’t expect ourselves to survive from the first encounter. But this–this feeling...” Lockwood’s voice was breaking. He couldn’t keep himself contained any longer. “I’m aware!” Lockwood snaps, his voice breaking, his eyes reddening. “All too aware, but if I’d known this would happen I’d…” His thoughts trail off, unsure of what to say anymore. His eyes kept darting back and forth between you and Barnes. He’d succumb to begging. He would. Just to see you move a little. Any kind of movement. Just one would be enough to quell his panic. 
“Taken her place?” A small knowing smile reached Barnes's brows.
Lockwood couldn’t bring himself to deny it. He took a deep breath, as he spoke in a hushed and gentle tone “I would hand myself over to death without question. Any given day.” He didn’t hesitate. “I’d rather she lose me, than I her. So yes, I’d have taken her place.” Barnes's eyes slowly flickered past his shoulder with an easing smile. He looked down to the rubble. 
“Over my dead body-” Anthony had never turned his head faster. He instantly froze. The relief that had started to wash over him at seeing you had given way to embarrassment. His own injury was forgotten. You sat up and your eyes landed on him. “Hand yourself over to death, or you mad- What the hell happened to your shoulder?” 
“That would be my leave...” Barnes pointed to his left and swiftly left the two of you.
“My shoulder? Oh, it…I was shot.” He answered as simple as that, it contained no other details, nothing to ease your concern, which led you right into interrogating him.
“Shot?” You were taken aback by his nonchalant reply. “What do you mean, shot?” You exclaim. 
“Nothing worth troubling yourself about. How do you feel?” There was an air of tension between the two of you, where everything had become so fragile. After everything that had happened, a simple statement or action would break the illusion. You were awake and animated, and giving him a piece of your mind. It didn’t feel real in the slightest.
“I…” A wave of exhaustion was still coursing through your body, a result of the exhausting ordeal that you had just undergone. The ordeal had exhausted your body so much that your brain shut down. But your physical exhaustion also masked the emotional exhaustion you were feeling. You felt out of your element; overwhelmed by everything that was now around you. Everything felt unfamiliar to you, as though you had been transported into an unknown dimension, one where your mind felt trapped. Anthony’s ghost locked body in your arms. “I don’t know...I couldn’t wake up.”
"I know- The paramedics tried everything and-"
It was impossible to say what you did and didn't remember. But from what you recall, the events of the evening were a blur. "The mirror..." You attempted to scoot closer to him. Your hands grazed against Anthony's hair. Your eyes caught sight of his shoulder, wrapped in bandages and the sling that secured it together. Was it bleeding? But it wasn’t your primary focus. You just needed to feel him. “There were so many faces, so many faces.” You breathe out a gasp. Your eyes watering. “I saw you...”
“Me?”
"You were ghost-locked. I had lost you..." Your breath hitched.
"It wasn't real. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. It wasn't real." Anthony reassured, pressing kisses against your temple.
"But what if it was...What if what the mirror showed me becomes true?"
He paused, taking a moment to contemplate your concerns. Anthony had already spent the evening playing out the worst-case scenarios, but to hear you state them verbally had somehow made them more palpable. However, a small part of him was curious whether you saw your future by the mirrors doing, or if it was just an illusion to break you mentally.
"Then I'll make sure that doesn't happen." He whispered. His voice was tinged with emotion. His hands reached for yours and intertwined his fingers with yours. A sign of his promise to you.
“You can’t promise that-”
Anthony looked down at your hands, his eyes flickering between them as he attempted to focus on anything other than the overwhelming amount of emotions swirling within him, the emotions threatening to consume him whole. So he focused instead on your hands being intertwined with his, and the sight warmed him in a pleasant way he hadn't felt in many months, as the thought of possibly losing you had him filled with dread.
He leaned over and kissed your knuckles. “Did you not hear my declaration of my love for you?”
“Oh, the one where you give yourself to death- Like hell!” You yank your hand out of his with a scoff.
“Hand myself over–” He corrected you. “I’d hand myself over to death.” He continued.
“I’m about to hand you a right hook.” You throw a playful punch to his bad shoulder, forgetting his injury and rippling with regret instantly. “Oh!”
“Ow.” He groaned. “What’s the big issue?” He laughed softly. “What’s wrong with giving up my life for yours?” He teased. “You know I’d die for you.”
"You don't have my permission." You mutter softly. Bringing a hand up to brush back his hair.
As your hand brushed back his hair, Anthony couldn’t help but smile at the small gesture. He grabbed the hand you used to brush back his hair and lightly kissed the back of your hand again. “If I wanted to I would give myself over to death this very instant. I’d do just about anything for you, you know.” He replied. His gaze was now fully on you. His eyes were a deep amber, shining like two gemstones.
"And that's what scares me the most." You hum.
“It shouldn’t.” He scoffed with a smile. “Besides, I thought you valued my loyalty.” He raised a brow playfully.
"Yes. When I'm not there to defend my word. That’s when I put my whole faith in your loyalty to me...but when death comes knocking. I don't want it." Your eyes soften.
He looked away briefly, then back at you with a teasing smile. “I wouldn’t give my life to save just anyone, you know.”
"Oh, I'm aware." You fight back an amused smile. He noticed it though, he caught the smile that you attempted to mask. You were never able to conceal much around him, and that was all right. He liked seeing your emotions on full display. You were your truest self when you let your guard down around him. It made you all the more adorable that way. “And you?” He asked. “Would you give yourself to death for me?” He teased, but you knew he was serious.
Your smile widened for a moment before you caught yourself, and answered without taking a beat. You would allow him to know your fears, for the fear of seeing him suffer on your behalf was the worst feeling one could endure. That was something you hated the thought of. You didn’t quite see yourself as the more vulnerable one out of the two of you. Deep down Anthony conquered his inner demons through you, shared his past, his troubles, and confessed his deepest fears to you. You’d help him without any hesitation. You would do anything for the bloke, even if that meant going as far as sacrificing your own life for the sake of him getting to keep his, you would do it, and you’d do it in a heartbeat no less.
“Any given day.” One glance into your eyes and Anthony knew. He knew you would keep that promise till death tethered on whose hand to take. When? Well, you’d never truly know for sure.
Content with your answer, he leans in and kisses your cheek softly. You relax into his touch, your lashes brushing down on top of your under-eyes. He pulls away with a stupid grin. His eyes filled with want and mischief, your favorite combination.
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