#hot prince winter

[thedivaking]

Hot prince winter❄️❄️🧥~

Featuring Prinny in a turtleneck.

[mathsandwhiteroses]

Princess of Wales Winter 2024 Photo Challenge: Day 7

Favourite photo(s) of Catherine at carol concerts

[the-winters-prince]

not a Medwin shipper but Morgause raising Medraut offcially as Lot's legitimate son and then marrying him to his cousin Goewin after Lleu died of "natural" causes, makes so much more sense than raising Medraut as a bastard born from incest with no support. One clever marriage alliance could have spared them so much bloodshed and paved Medraut a way to the throne. I don't even know what Morgause was hoping to achieve when she slept with Artos. Did she think that she could hide their relation forever? That people wouldn't care about the incest because they are royals? It's impossible, even if he wanted to, Artos could have never married his sister and made her queen. It's a sin in the eyes of church. The only explanation for this plan was that Morgause was young and dumb and in love.

[flyby303]

Nue 😍

[savannahjamesauthor]

Person: You know your comfort characters say a lot about you as a person

Me: Oh? Well mine are Kylo Ren, Bucky Barnes, the Phantom of the Opera, Prince Zuko, and the Darkling

Person: …I hope you’re in therapy because there’s a lot to unpack there

[idkyetxoxo]

Cregan Stark - Northern Frost Southern Sun

Summary - In the unforgiving North, a Southern princess struggles with her political marriage to Cregan, feeling like an outsider. As she voices her insecurities, their bond deepens, transforming their alliance into a passionate connection that bridges the divide between their worlds.

Pairing - Cregan Stark x Martell reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!)

Word count - 2124

Masterlist for Cregan • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

Born into nobility, my life had always felt scripted—a path inked not by my own desires but by the hands of the men around me. 

My father, my uncle, my brother, even the echoes of my grandfather shaped the walls around me. 

As a daughter of House Martell, the rulers of sun-drenched Dorne, my existence was predetermined, my fate a strategy in the game of thrones woven by my father, Prince Qoren Martell himself. 

A Martell daughter, after all, was a prize to be bartered, and he had chosen a formidable match.

He pledged me to Cregan Stark, Lord of House Stark, in the distant, unforgiving North. 

A union as calculated as it was unfeeling, our marriage was intended to bind the desert heat of Dorne with the ice and shadows of Winterfell. 

It was a pact, a quiet promise to fortify our realms and maintain a precarious balance in the ever-shifting powers of Westeros. My father assured me it was for our people, for peace. 

But I knew what the alliance would cost me: the endless winds that sliced through bone, the chill that would burrow into my soul, the lonely shadows that clung to Winterfell's walls like phantoms.

The North was all I had dreaded—an imposing land where silence lingered thickly in the air, and winter settled in more than just the stones. 

Every breath was laced with frost, every glance held a guarded judgment, as if they wondered if this southern-born woman could ever survive in a world so different, so grim. 

And always, there were whispers—"the Dornish wife"—spoken softly yet deliberately, trailing me like spectres through the dim corridors.

Yet amid the cold and the solitude, Cregan Stark surprised me. 

He was not the man I had envisioned: distant and unyielding, a creature as cold as the land he ruled. 

Instead, Cregan had a quiet strength, a kindness that seemed out of place in such a harsh land. He understood, perhaps better than I, the challenges I faced here. 

With subtle gestures and quiet assurances, he tried to ease my discomfort, his attentions more thoughtful than I'd dared hope. He never pressed, but he was there—a grounding presence, a warmth that, little by little, began to soften the edges of my isolation.

A moon had passed since our union. I was neither entirely happy nor entirely sorrowful; I was simply... here. 

Somewhere between contentment and restlessness, caught in a place that wasn't mine yet somehow, piece by piece, was becoming so. 

Winterfell was no closer to being home, but Cregan's attentions made the frigid halls more bearable, his patience an anchor as I drifted, my heart searching for familiarity in a sea of foreignness.

One evening, as twilight painted the snow in hues of indigo and grey, I stood on the balcony, gazing out across Winterfell. 

The frosty landscape stretched endlessly, an ocean of cold where dawn seemed forever on the edge of arriving but never quite here. 

As I watched the endless expanse of snow, I remembered the hot, golden sands of Sunspear. 

In Dorne, the sun-kissed our skin, the scent of ripe figs and sea salt filled the air. Here, every corner held a chill, every shadow seemed to whisper secrets.

In that stillness, I heard a voice—a voice I had come to know well, warm yet edged with the subtle command of a lord.

"What's on your mind?" Cregan's words reached me, low and tender.

Startled, I turned to see him leaning on the railing beside me, his gaze thoughtful. His presence was a welcome warmth, and yet I found myself instinctively closing in, the winter wind cutting through my gown.

"Nothing," I replied, a feeble defence as my voice carried softly into the chill.

He studied me quietly, his eyes catching the slight shiver that ran through me as the wind nipped at my shoulders. 

"Doesn't look like 'nothing,'" he said, his voice low. "You're cold. Come inside." 

Without waiting for my reply, he draped his cloak over my shoulders, guiding me toward the warmth of our chambers, stopping by the hearth as the flames crackled to life.

"I don't belong," I murmured, staring into the fire. My fingers traced the thick Northern fabric of my gown—a cloth I'd hoped would make me feel less like an outsider. 

The weight of the words hung between us as if spoken aloud for the first time, stirring the silence in the dim room.

"What do you mean, my love?" Cregan's voice broke the quiet, a softness I hadn't expected. 

He turned to face me, his eyes searching mine with a rare vulnerability as if my answer mattered more than the words themselves.

I took a long, steadying breath, watching the flames dance and trying to gather the right words. 

"They still see me as different," I whispered. "A stranger, from a land they neither know nor trust. I try to blend in, to be... what I think they want. But sometimes, I wonder if they'll ever truly see me as one of their own." 

My voice trembled as the truth spilt out, deeper than I'd intended. "They whisper, Cregan when they think I can't hear. They don't trust me. And some days, I'm not sure they ever will."

Cregan listened in silence, his gaze steady and unwavering. 

Without a word, he reached for my hand, his calloused fingers rough yet gentle as they enveloped mine, grounding me in the midst of my insecurities.

"Give them time," he said softly, his voice like a balm. "The North can be as harsh as winter itself, slow to warm, but it's not unyielding." 

His hand lifted my chin, guiding my gaze up to meet his. In his eyes, I saw not just kindness, but an unwavering strength, as if he could will my doubts away by the force of his conviction alone.

"You belong here, with me," he said, his voice a quiet promise. "No whispers or frost will ever change that."

I felt his words settle over me like a cloak, their warmth reaching parts of my heart I hadn't realized were cold. But still, uncertainty lingered, stubborn and unrelenting. 

Perhaps sensing my hesitation, Cregan shifted closer, his presence wrapping around me like an unbreakable fortress.

He cupped my cheek with a tenderness that both surprised and soothed me. 

"You are the heat I've always been missing," he murmured, his voice low and thick with meaning. 

Slowly, his hand drifted down, sliding under the folds of my gown with a touch that sent a shiver through me—a sensation born not of the cold, but of something deeper.

"What are you doing?" I asked, a laugh escaping as I fought back my nervousness.

"Showing you." His voice was gentle, a playful glint in his eyes. "Showing you that you belong."

With a tender confidence, his hands moved, sending ripples through me that melted the tension from my body. 

His touch was warm and steady, his fingers tracing up my sides, and for the first time since coming to the North, I felt my fears begin to ease as if his presence alone could erase them. 

The doubts, the whispers—they all faded as his hands explored, each caress a quiet reassurance.

His gaze held mine, unwavering, and in that moment, there was an intimacy that transcended touch, a promise woven in the quiet between us. 

He leaned in, his lips finding mine, capturing them with a gentleness that made me feel like I was being seen for the first time. His kiss was both soft and fervent, his lips warm as they moved against mine, igniting a fire that outmatched any northern hearth.

As his hands roamed over my body, rough and calloused from years of wielding steel, they were uncharacteristically gentle, tracing the lines of my skin as if memorizing each curve. 

His fingers held a kind of reverence, as if I were something precious, not just the wife bound to him by a political alliance but a person who was cherished.

In that moment, he lifted me, guiding me slowly towards the bed, never once breaking the kiss. 

I felt myself sink into the softness of the furs as he laid me down, the flickering fire casting its amber glow across the room, cocooning us in its warmth. 

There was a tenderness in his touch as he caressed me, his movements slow and purposeful, each gesture a quiet declaration.

The world outside the chamber ceased to exist; there was no cold, no looming suspicion, no whispers echoing down the corridors. 

Only Cregan and the fire between us, burning bright and fierce.

His lips trailed down my neck, each kiss a spark that sent warmth radiating through me. He paused, his gaze seeking mine as his hand found the ties of my gown, his touch both reverent and questioning. 

I met his eyes, giving him the permission he silently sought, and with careful, deliberate movements, he began to untie it, each pull of the fabric a slow unveiling.

As the gown slipped away, leaving me bare before him, I felt no vulnerability, only an overwhelming sense of being cherished. 

Cregan's eyes held nothing but admiration, and in that look, he banished every doubt, every whisper that had haunted me since I'd arrived in the North.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice raw and thick with emotion. "So beautiful."

His words soaked into me, warming those fragile places hidden within, and I felt myself drawn to him, my fingers threading into his hair, pulling him close. 

His warmth was a balm, a grounding presence I needed as his lips found mine, slow and deliberate, speaking promises only we could hear.

With a practised, fluid ease, he shed the last of his clothes, his gaze never breaking from mine. 

His bare skin met mine in a press that was both electric and soothing, each inch of contact igniting a surge of feeling, of completeness that made me gasp. 

His hands traced down my sides, exploring the curves and lines of my body, as if they held secrets he'd yearned to know. 

Every touch, every brush of his fingers sent shivers across my skin.

He lowered himself, aligning our bodies with a reverence that made my heart ache. 

When he settled between my thighs, his touch shifted, moving from a delicate exploration to a quiet, steady possession. 

His grip on me tightened, anchoring me beneath him, and his eyes held a ferocity that was matched by the tenderness in his touch. He was wholly mine, and I, his.

"You're mine," he whispered his voice a low growl that sent a thrill through me. "Mine."

"Yes," I breathed, my fingers pressing into his shoulders as I clung to him, letting myself believe it. "Yours."

He moved with a deliberate rhythm, each thrust a declaration, an unspoken vow that silenced the doubts within me. 

Every part of me, every fragment I thought too broken to matter, felt seen, treasured. 

The warmth grew between us, winding up in intensity as he continued, his movements steady, yet laced with a simmering need that built with each passing moment.

His hands roamed over me, possessive yet reverent, fingers tracing gentle lines along my skin. His lips left trails of warmth, soft whispers mingling with our breaths. 

The connection between us thrummed with a strength that felt sacred, binding us beyond words, deeper than the physical.

Our rhythm intensified, his hands gripping my waist, his lips capturing my moans as we chased the rising wave together. 

The air was thick with the sounds of our bodies, the soft crackle of the fire, the murmurs of our whispered names.

In that moment, there was no North or South, no whispers of "the Dornish wife." There was only Cregan and me, bound together by a love that had taken root in the most unlikely of places.

When the climax came, it hit with a force that left us breathless, a bliss that surged through us like fire and water, fierce yet softening. 

He held me through it, our breaths mingling as we trembled in the aftermath, our hearts beating as one.

Cregan collapsed beside me, his arms wrapping around me as he pulled me close. We lay there in the afterglow, our bodies entwined, the fire casting a soft glow over us.

"You belong here," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to my soul. "With me."

"I do," I replied, my heart swelling with a newfound certainty. "I belong with you."

As I drifted off to sleep in his arms, I knew that no matter the challenges we might face, we would face them together. 

The North might be cold and unforgiving, but with Cregan by my side, I felt a warmth that could withstand any storm. 

And in his embrace, I found not just a home, but a love that would endure.

A/n - I am such a sucker for any Dornish reader works 😝

Cregan tag list - @veesuguru

[mrscarpenter]

BED CHEM

Jacaerys Velaryon x Dornish!reader

Summary: The Prince gets send to gain a powerful alliance that the house targaryen has wanted for a long period of time, and he stumbles upon you. A gorgeous dornish queen.

Includes/warnings: dornish!reader this is probably horribly written so thats a warning in itself, not proof read but i believe Y/N has been used on multiple occasions. Did not give reader a description other than female & dark black curls. There is an age gap in this (reader is 16, jacaerys is 19, but it is never actually mentioned) like i said, not proof read, if you see any spelling errors feel free to point them out!

🪐notes: idk much abt the dornish, especially not in this timeline/au so please ignore any mistakes. Jace is not engaged to baela in this. :)

from my short & sweet collection

You were standing in the hall of your castle in SunSpear. Waiting for the arrival of the prince Jacaerys Velaryon, heir to the iron throne and prince of DragonStone. Or he would be, had King Aegon Targaryen not usurped the iron throne.

The weather in Dorne was always exceptionally hot, so you wore a sheer gown. One thing about the Dornish was that you were not ashamed of anything, especially not what the gods had given you. The dress was a dark blue, with red and gold detailing, your long black curls hanging loosely over your shoulders.

Once you saw the prince arrive, you stood up straighter, clearing your throat silently, allowing a faked smug expression to fall upon your face.

“Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, to what is the pleasure of your presence owed?”

It was all a different environment to what he was used to at DragonStone. The strong breeze of hot air, the lack of thick winter-like clothing, the more exposed body, the tanned skin... it was all such a strange sight to a prince accustomed to the cold. He bowed gently towards the young Queen of Dorne, and looked at her dress. He admired the work that her seamstresses had to do to look so good on her.

“A pleasure indeed, my lady. May we chat inside? It is quite hot here, I confess.”

you nod curtly. “Of course. i am afraid i am in a bit of a hurry though, many important matters to attend.” You point out a hand, allowing him to walk beside you as you walk up the steps into the castle.

Jacaerys follows you, watching the way you walk and the environment surrounding the palace. The hot air, the sun, the tanned skin.

He looks over at you, trying to figure out more about the queen of Dorne. “You are quite young, my lady. Not that I'm much older, but tell me what's it like being queen so young?”

“I am quite used to it. I have been Dorne’s ruler since i was 6 summers old. The Dornish are respectable people, and very direct. It hasn’t always been easy, but it felt natural.” You spoke.

Jacaerys nodded as you walked, thinking it was somewhat impressive someone that young could ever rule. He smiled slightly at your comment.

“I can see the directness in you already, if you'll forgive my boldness. You don't seem like you're the type of woman to beat around the bush, are you?”

Jacaerys was trying to figure you out, as any man with an interest in women would do. He walked beside you as you both spoke, trying to gauge his chances.

after a few seconds you speak up “No, i indeed am not. And i do not expect anyone else to either, if i step on anyone’s toes with my words, they are not company i should keep.”

That comment made Jacaerys smile, appreciating your honest nature. He couldn't deny how attractive blunt honesty was, especially in a place where everyone was so used to keeping secrets and making alliances all the time. “So you speak plainly?”

He knew women with bluntness often became some of the most interesting ones. And a queen, with an attitude like that, made a very intriguing proposition. As curious as your boldness made him, he couldn't deny his physical interests.

That dress... Gods...

You bring him out of his thoughts with your reply. “Yes i speak plainly, and so should you, Prince Jacaerys.” You spoke softly, almost gentle-like. It was very refreshing.

Jacaerys took a long look at your body, his eyes slowly glancing at the details of your dress. The way the skirt of the dress swayed with your movements and how the gown itself left little to the imagination. The way your curly locks dangled and moved. The way your skin shone with the sun's blessing...

His gaze finally returned to your face, the soft features combined with the dark eyes and long wavy hair. He couldn't deny what was crossing his mind right now. Your blunt nature, combined with the way you looked, was certainly making him wish for things.

He couldn't help himself, as he took another look at you, before finally speaking. “That must come in handy for a queen like you, my lady. You're much less... complicated than one would expect from a ruler.”

Jacaerys approached one step closer, his eyes still locked on yours.

“If I may ask, are you married or betrothed by any chance?”

Your blunt words, your direct manner, and your pretty face only encouraged his desires. And it seemed the prince was rather blunt with his intentions as well.

Your eyes locked with his, as he asked the question you were certain was coming.

Of course, he must be interested in some deal. Just like any man, the prince wouldn't be able to simply let a beautiful young queen pass by.

You took a moment to think, wondering what to share.. or perhaps hide. "No, my prince. I am unmarried."

The corner of Jacaerys' mouth curled into a small, cocky smile. "Oh, is that so?"

A hint of teasing was clear in his voice, his eyes still looking for something in yours.

"Well, I suppose that does have some upsides."

He took another step closer, until he was at an arm's distance. The young prince could smell the scent of the air in Dorne, the sun-kissed skin, and the expensive perfumes of a queen. "Tell me, how might a man catch the interest of the queen of Dorne?"

The prince's voice had the tone of teasing, making your eyebrow raise slightly. His sudden proximity also caught you slightly off guard, his physical interests becoming very clear to you.

You couldn't deny how handsome he was. And you guessed perhaps you could use a bit of fun, considering you were unmarried and in your youthful prime.

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at him, his eyes burning a hole through your face. "Hm... What are you offering? Your family is at war, are they not? your visit is political.”

The prince let out a quiet chuckle, letting his eyes wander over your body for a moment.

The dress was certainly eye-catching, the way it hugged your curves, allowing his imagination to let loose...

The words you spoke only made his eyes find their way back to your own, and the smirk he had on his face only grew.

"Is the possibility of a political alliance enough to catch your interest, my lady?"

You watched the prince's eyes as they caressed your body, the boldness in his gaze, and the clear interest that you knew was there. You knew how to take advantage of an opportunity..

"Depends on what kind of a deal you're suggesting, my prince." There was an undeniable flirtation in your voice, your own subtle way of teasing him.

The prince didn't hide the smirk that spread across his face after that statement. His hand slowly reached over to your waist, his touch feeling the silky fabric of your dress.

"Would a marriage perhaps suffice?"

Your dress, as thin as it already was, provided no barrier against his touch. You could feel each stroke of his fingers, his thumb moving in circular motions against the thin fabric.

The marriage proposal was expected, but it seemed the prince had a more hands-on approach in mind.

You kept a straight face, not to give away how your mind was beginning to wander with the possibility of a marriage. "What would I gain? And what would you expect in return?"

He didn't let your serious expression stop his hands from wandering over the silk of your gown, his hand moving across your waist and down your side. "You would gain protection, support, and a powerful alliance."

"And I would gain..." He leaned closer, his breath against your skin, "A gorgeous Dornish queen as a wife..."

Your heart began to race as his words and his hand continued it's exploration of your side, the anticipation of where those hands might end up was growing.

The prince's proximity and the way he slowly looked at you, expecting some kind of reaction. You stayed firm, holding back the subtle reaction you felt with his words.

"Hm... We might have a deal, my prince."

And with that, his lips ended on yours.

Requested by: @avatar4life

explore post. masterlist.

please comment and reblog if you enjoyed. <3

© mrscarpenter, 2024.

[lokisgoodgirl]

A Royal Audience: The Rite

Chapter 1 Masterlist for The Rite is here A link to my full Masterlist is here Summary: (1) You, an Asgardian court nobody, fall asleep in the palace baths and have an unconventional introduction to the elusive Loki Odinson. (w/c 3.7k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Loki x female reader. Smut. Language. Voyeurism.

Water splashes and your legs fly up, floating out into the murk of torchlit water. Bracing against the stone edge, you glance over your shoulder with a blossoming horror. The curved arch reveals the glittering lights of Asgard below; mountains which had glowed with low-afternoon light when you’d settled in the palace baths now cloaked in darkness. Why did no one wake me? It's forbidden for anyone but the Royal family to be in the baths after sundown. And the penalties are severe.

Surely more of a guideline than a rule, you think optimistically as you get your bearings. Panic twists in your chest. Surely Odin can’t imprison every member of the court who dozes off in the hot springs.

Heaving yourself onto the side, you shiver in the immediate chill. The loss of warmth is like the absence of a lover’s touch; leaving their bed on a winter night. You’re surprised you can remember what that feels like. A breeze blows through the atrium as you grasp for the robe you discarded earlier. It sticks to clammy skin, thick droplets seeping though the fabric as you gaze longingly at the towels lined up at the side. No time. But as you flick soggy tendrils of hair from beneath the collar, your ears prick. No. Footsteps. There’s only one doorway to the baths. A security thing. One hallway – in and out. Your eyes dart frantically at limited options. Tall, imposing pillars encircle the room. One of them will have to do. All you can do is pray the guards just take a quick peek around the door. The squeak of your bare feet on the floor fades just as your wet skin meets marble. You cover your mouth, eyes screwing shut. The door swings open, creaking on ancient hinges. “Prepare the oils,” someone commands. A dark, enunciated order which seems to settle in the steam.

A shudder runs down your spine. That voice. Another one replies in hushed reverence, flopping sandals scooting over the marble floor while bottles rattle. “Haste,” the first growls.

You clutch the flimsy robe tighter to your chest. The first time, you might have been mistaken. But as the irritated syllables of that solitary word settle, there’s no mistaking it. Prince Loki. If you were asked to swear in front of the Norns that you’d never envisioned the dark prince as you touched yourself in the dead of night, thought of his forbidden curls twisting through your hair as you rode him, the timbre of his moans as you choked on his cock – you’d be a fucking liar. I mean, who hasn't? But this? This is beyond the pale. Even conjured from your sickest fantasies. This is wrong. This is...a death sentence.

And yet, you find yourself edging closer to the side of the pillar.

Should you announce yourself? Grovel? Retreat out the door with garbled apologies, bowing with your face lowered and begging for your life? Probably.

But it’s too late now. Far too late. And if you’re going to end up in the dungeons, as on some level you always suspected you would, at least this image will sustain you.

Loki Odinson stands all limbs and and length at the edge of the baths. From emerald-encrusted slippers to the crown of dark waves spilling over his shoulders – he’s perfect; unmistakeably royalty even in his lounge-wear. What little there is of it.

White steam rolls above the water, as sheer and flawless as the chiffon robe that moulds to his body. The faint hue of his skin shows through the forest-green material, fingers toying with the tie circling his hips as he casts a scathing glance to the servant whirling a phial of oil between his fingers. “Tis’ ready, my lord” the servant says. The prince grunts, letting the sash fall open.

You hold a breath as the garb falls down the sinewy bulge of his shoulders, deep carves of tricep muscle illuminated in torchlight. You’ve never seen him so close; never had time to admire the stark beauty emanating from every angled inch of him. Without the distracting glint of his armour it’s almost enough to make your eyes water. Glimpses of him had been in passing, a stolen gawk before you bowed you head and he moved quickly through the great hall past the other courtly nobodies.

The luxuriously weaved material slides over his skin, folding and rippling as it drips from his fingertips. It shimmers in low flamelight and he rolls his shoulders back as it drops, abdominals clenching. You clench along with them as the robe pools around his ankles. Your palms sweat against the pillar, fingers beginning to claw as Loki steps into the water. He rakes his hair back, tilting his chin to the ceiling as he puts one foot ceremonially in front of the other. Making an entrance, even without an audience. Or so he thinks.

The servant stands obediently by the bath’s edge, staring ahead as the prince’s thighs flex with each effortless step, liquid lapping around his knees.

As much as you try not to look, sort of, to preserve some sliver of dignity for the god, saliva wells under your tongue. His perfect cock bobs between his legs. It’s true what they say, you think in a daze. His pubic hair is an immaculate shadow. Even his balls are perfect.

Loki sinks down, dipping long hair back in the water before seating himself in the opposite spot you’d occupied minutes ago. Jet hair plasters to his skin like tar, droplets of water clinging to his torso. “Begin,” he mutters with an air of annoyance. The servant complies, pouring the rose-tinted phial into his hand and beginning to massage the god’s scalp.

You watch in utter beguilement as Loki’s head is nudged from side to side, indecent moans of pleasure snaking from his throat as the favoured servant carries out his work. Thin drips of oil roll down the prince’s brow, catching the light. He tips his head back, jawline pointed to the ceiling like the blade of an axe. He lets out a whimper of pleasure.

You press your lips together so hard it hurts as a crease appears in the god’s brow, his eyes shut as the man kneeling behind turns the attention to his shoulders. The oil spreads down the thick of his neck, to the crevices of his collarbone; glistening. “Oh-h, yes…there-” the god growls, a gnawing groan shaking the air. For the first time, you notice the unmistakable heat of arousal sliding between your thighs. Squirming, you think briefly about looking away. You decide against it. In the blink of an eye, Loki’s mood changes like a winter wind. He leans forward, an abrupt tsk punctuated by the wave of a hand. “Leave me,” he demands. The servant looks visibly confused, fingers poised in the air above tense muscle. Loki turns expectantly over his shoulder. “Need I say it again?” he purrs menacingly. It was quietly brutal. You smirk in spite of yourself. Classic Prince Loki, you muse. You never dreamed you’d get to see it in person.

The man shakes his head, shuffling to his feet. He shuffles out the room with little bows and letting the ancient latch clunk into place. Your breaths quicken and the sudden gravity of the situation settles like a boulder in your throat. Frozen, you watch Loki eye the door a moment longer before resting back against the stone with a lazy sigh.

Long fingers run through the slick of his hair while water slops around his nipples. Gods, how you want to pull one between your teeth as you pump his- “Aren’t you cold?” His voice was an arrow. Sharp, targeted, tipped with venom. It’s hit spreads through your body, white noise filling your brain, blood thundering in your ears.

“Aren’t you cold?” he repeats, sterner this time. You realise with horrifying clarity that Prince Loki of Asgard, as eusive and unknowable as faraway galaxies to a mouse, is talking to you. And he’s naked. And you’re definitely spending the next decade in the dungeons. If you’re lucky.

With shaking hands, you step out from behind the pillar. The game is up. But to your credit, you have closed your eyes, one palm shielding them in a last ditch attempt at salvation. “Your Majesty I apologise I...fell asleep in the water, and woke up after sundown- the laws, and you came in...I didn’t know where to go- what to do-please have mercy...” You squint between parted fingers to gauge his reaction, hoping that the last threads of your long-gone innocence are believable. The prince curls a finger to his lips, covering a smirk. “I did not look upon your majesty...” you lie. The god’s eyes run from your ankles to your face, a devious smile playing at one side of his mouth. His lips part, chin tilting upwards, tongue resting behind his upper teeth before the perfect enunciation of, “Liar.”

“I did not look upon-” you stammer, lowering your hand and staring at the floor.

“-Oh, stop it.” Loki says. It’s followed by a melodic chuckle ricocheting around the marble walls. You glance up. One elbow rests on the stone behind him, water rippling against his chest. He tilts his head, raising the other arm out the water. “Never let it be said the God of Mischief is not merciful,” he rumbles coyly. A solitary finger beckons. “You must be cold,” he repeats for the third time, softer. “I assure you the baths are warmer than the dungeon, if that was your intent for the remainder of the evening.”

Each step feels like an eternity as you let yourself be drawn forward by weak flesh. You can’t take your eyes off his, thundering silently into your soul like a sexual storm. “I am not to the dungeons, then?” you ask cautiously. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

He winks, a perfectly timed droplet of oil falling from his chin to the water below with a thick plop. It makes your stomach flip. He stiffens suddenly, raising his palm in a ‘stop’.

“You may leave now...if you wish,” he says. An aura of stiff formality settles on his expression.

This is the Loki you recognise from feast days and speeches which ring around the towering cloisters of the great hall. The palm held upright softens to gesture to the other side of the pool. “Or you may stay, if you wish. Either way, sending such a flower to the dungeons to wilt and wither would surely be a greater crime than the one you have committed.”

He pauses. There’s a flash of pink as his tongue runs over his lips. His gaze drops to your fingers fidgeting nervously with the sash of your robe, still stained with watermarks from its hasty assembly. “Curiosity is only natural, one supposes,” he says.

“I didn’t mean to do it,” you reply quietly.

Loki’s eyes meet yours, one eyebrow rising. “Ah, but you did.” His voice is deeper, wisps of intrigue catching in every syllable. “In my experience, the path paved with mistakes leads to better stories. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You bite your lip. “Your Majesty are you...sure? I’m-” you glance towards the door, hesitating before you met the prince’s waiting stare, “-naked, under this.” Loki’s long index finger dips teasingly into the water, feigned surprise making his brows rise as he watches it sink beneath the surface. The lip twitches again as his digit skims, slow ripples pulsing out from his body. “Egalitarian, wouldn’t you say? Considering your recent education on my own state of undress.” Heat rises in your cheeks, matching the inexplicable confidence beginning to blossom in your belly. Loki smiles expectantly, resting both elbows casually on the ledge.

His lips form a soft o as your robe falls around your feet. You feel his stare roaming your body as keenly as though its his hands. Can he see the translucent sheen of arousal smeared down your inner thighs as you step into the pool? Possibly. Probably.

It’s true what they say about his body, about his temper, about his cock, after all. Why not his powers of perception?

The water licks against your skin, the thrill of this forbidden meeting making every hair on your body stand to attention. Pores tingle against the embrace of heat as you sink beneath the surface, perching on the flat stone seat beneath. The curve of your mounds bob above gently lapping water.

The same spot you’d been in earlier. But now, the view is entirely different.

You imagine that the archway behind you is a beautiful scene. Asgard’s moons would be shining, their light halo’ing your wetted hair against a blanket of stars. And yet, Prince Loki’s eyes never leave yours.

Although ten meters stretch between you, the whisper of his breath seemed to curl against your ear. You widen your legs beneath the water, immediately squeezing them closed again. Your lips purse, stifling a whine. “Your first royal audience, I gather?” Loki asks politely. You nod. This is madness.

Slowly, he shifts. One arm slips beneath the water, then two. His chin dips, observing you seductively from half-lidded eyes. “Why have I never seen you before?” The question hangs amidst the steam rolling over soft ripples.

“I find myself new at court, your Majesty” you hear yourself answer. It isn’t true. But it's better than the embarrassing reality. You're an invisible cog. “Liar,” he murmurs seductively. The corners of his eyes crease with mirth, a wet curl falling down to the side of his cheek. Somehow, your fingers find their way to your clit; hidden beneath the sweet-smelling veil of the baths.

“How can I have overlooked such a jewel in the midst of this grey wasteland?” “Wasteland?!” you scoff. It's bold, a peal of laughter escaping in spite of yourself. “Hardly.” The god cocks an eyebrow. “Despite my hyperbole, the sentiment remains. How did I miss you?”

There’s a moment of silence; anticipation choking the air. A suspicious disturbance begins to swell at the water by Loki’s mid-section and a chill of desire makes you shiver despite the temperate water; imagining those long, elegant fingers wrapping around that long, elegant cock. You began to toy with yourself, sparks of pleasure thrumming through your veins. Your shoulders began to roll in time with the pressure of your fingers. Unmistakeable. Breaths rise and fall in your chest, breasts bouncing lightly at the surface.

He grits, throat working as the straight lower line of his perfectly white teeth flash into view. The swell of water above his groin crests to a flurry; his deep, filthy exhales wrapping around your inhibitions and choking them. All pretence gone, you release the moan you’ve been holding.

Loki breaths out hard, a low ragged breath that seemed to part the steam caressing the water’s surface. “Mmm,” he grunts, neck stiffening. A vein at his throat stands hard and thick, straining as water began to splash against him from his abuse beneath. This is a scandal. You are a scandal. If anyone finds out, you’re finished...and yet. As the prince’s chin points to his glistening chest, wet from the splashback from fucking himself beneath the surface, you find you care not one jot.

His eyes darken, long lashes curled up to knitted brows. Loki’s lips are parted, tongue hovering and forming senseless words between laboured breaths. His cheekbones flash in the low light, soaking hair strewn over his milky skin. And always, his gaze is on you. The lofty, untouchable, inscrutable god that you’ve fantasised about is looking at you as he pleasures himself. Thinking about you as he sits across the water tugging his flawless cock. And if this is the shining, glorious moment which would burn out in a blaze of reputation-ruining glory to ash then so be it. Worth it. His dulcet moans of onanism grow louder, timing with your own. Only once do you tip your head back as you feel climax rear, a growled command of ‘look at me,’ through gritted teeth snapping you forward again.

If you’re ever deigned worthy to feel the prince inside you, have his marble body flush to your own in the throes of passion, feel his lustful praise hot in your ear– just once – you would die happy. But this? This could be enough. “S-so dutiful,” the prince moans, his shoulders juddering as he strangled the words. “B-brave,” he gasps. His brow furrows deeper with one last longing stare at your glistening neck and shoulders as you cum hard, a quiet mewl of his name echoing around the baths. It’s all you can do not to scream. “G-gods,” Loki chokes. Every muscle you can see in his body seems to tense, a thundering roar like ripping leather cascading from his throat. His mouth hangs open, grimacing to the atrium above. In the death of his cry, there’s silence but for the splash of water as the two of you compose yourself. Still flushed from orgasm, you push your hair back. The prince raises the hand that had been pleasuring himself out the water, inspecting a thick, white string that clings to his fingertips. He turns his gaze to you as he sucks the cum from his digits. God he’s fucking filthy, you think. I knew it. It takes every piece of willpower not to wade across the baths and lick it from his mouth. You bite your lip, matching his sultry demeanour and the prince’s eyebrow twitches. Your reaction is clearly to his satisfaction. “This has been amusing.”

He stands abruptly, breath stealing from your lungs as his entire body comes into view again. You aren’t prepared. The god’s cock is still hard. Long and perfectly formed, it’s earlier fairness now replaced with the blush of his work. Above, his abdomen glistens; pearled droplets of oily water running leisurely over muscled ridges. You open your mouth and close it again. Loki smiles. He turns and the toned meat of his ass shifts on his ascent up the short steps out the baths. With a click of his fingers, the robe and slippers he’d discarded are upon him once more. Your stomach drops.

“I didn’t tell you my name,” you blurt as he approaches the door. Prince Loki’s profile slices into view, the perfect arc of his bone structure lined over one broad shoulder in dancing torchlight. His eyes cast down and move to yours with theatrical precision.

“Your name?!” he purrs incredulously. “We must keep some mystery, surely.” And with the swirl of his robe and a thud of the ancient latch, he’s gone.

Loki’s stomach churns, emerald slippers feeling heavier with every step. He feels along the wall, blinking away the dizziness growing behind his eyes. Risky. Even for me. He pauses at the end of the corridor, steadying his breaths. There was something about her. Something which shattered any semblance of decorum he usually clung to in the presence of the court, however strange the situation. Her audacity. Gods, the look in her eyes as she brought herself to climax; pinning him under her gaze like a starving wretch at a feast. He stares at his feet, jewels throwing prisms from torchlight. “Brother?” Loki looks up, immediately rolling his eyes. “Spying on me? Truly you need to find something more wholesome to occupy your time, brother.” “Of course not. I intended to join you.” Loki’s stomach lurches as he notes the robe hanging off his brother’s shoulders, the plush red towels stacked in his glowering manservant’s arms. “No,” he snaps as Thor attempts to pass. The hand pressing against his brother’s chest is still wet, and he has a sudden hope it’s only water. “The temperature is not pleasing tonight. Tepid, at best. Trust me, brother.” “Is that so?” Thor asks, eyebrow rising. If he finds her in there, she’ll be punished. He won’t think twice before running to father like a dog. The thought wouldn’t usually cause him alarm but there it was again, that niggling feeling that greater fates were at play. He studies Thor’s face. "Trust me," Loki says. His brother sighs. “I trust you with very few things, Loki, but the temperature of bathwater is verily one of them.” He waves a hand and the servant scuttles away into the gloom. “In truth, brother, I hoped to speak to you about the Rite.” A hiss blows between Loki’s teeth, eyes darting to the side. “In my own time.” “Your own time?!” Thor stomps forward, making the torches rattle. “You’ve had five hundred years to find someone, Loki. Nine moons; that’s all you have until you must wait another five centuries for the alignment. Don’t you want to secure yourself in the succession? What if something were to happen to father? To me? The people of Asgard must be assured of your suitability.” “The entire thing is a farce. The fact that you succeeded, proves it.” Thor’s face darkens. “Don't speak of our sacred traditions that way. You know they’re in place for a reason.” A snort steals from Loki’s nostrils. “I have no doubts of my skill, I know I could rule Asgard’s people selflessly and with great enthusiasm; why must it be paraded in an inane peacocking which will make the high-lords wilt with inferiority?”

Silence hangs thick in the narrow corridor.

“A fact which makes your refusal to participate even more perplexing," Thor says, narrowing his eyes and yanking the sash at his waist in a way Loki assumes he thinks to be dramatic. "Nine moons, brother.”

As Thor's footsteps die away; he listens for splashing, for movement, for sneaking. But there’s nothing. He steps out the emerald slippers and pads back to the door, turning the handle with a final, furtive glance behind him.

He expects to see you draped nude over the chaise in the corner, or perhaps spread for him at the edge of the baths with hungry longing in your sharp eyes...but you’re gone. Loki frowns and stalks to the pillar which concealed you before. “Borr’s blood,” he hisses under his breath, scanning the room.

And then he sees it; something silken and knotted loops around the balcony pillars, glimmering in moonlight. He realises suddenly that the draping which normally billows in the evening breeze is gone. Loki smirks as he paces to the balcony and casts a cursory look over the edge. The makeshift ladder hangs to the level below. The royal laundry, if he’s not mistaken; the same hot spring source. “Nine moons,” he repeats quietly to the silence, rapping his knuckles against the marble twice before turning away with a smile.

💖Thanks for joining me for this lil journey! 🕯️Tags in comments x Read Chapter Two, Successional Pleasure HERE

[enjakey]

Where Have You Been

Pairing: [figure skater!Sunghoon x archaeologist!Fem!Reader]

Hello! This fic (20k) was posted in my old account that I have since deleted a long time ago. This is a new account so I’m reporting this here. I thought I’d never bring any of my old shit back but I love this series too much. If you’re wondering why this sounds familiar, it’s probably because you’ve read it a long time ago. Not because it’s plagiarized. None of my work is plagiarized, please understand that. My writing style is carefully curated from the many Japanese and Russian writers I engage with. This plot came to me after a horrible loss in my life- three years ago.

Please enjoy reading it. There’s a Jake version, too.

Summary: to the outside world, Sunghoon had it all- looks, friends, a successful career and a New York life. But he was lonely, brinking on the hope of never finding true love again. He’d come to the age of even giving up, watching some of his closest friends getting married and starting families. That is, until he met a curiously cautious archaeologist.

THERE WASN’T A MOMENT where he felt the prospects and depths of loneliness until Sunghoon realised how everyone around him was settling down and he was still calling the ice rink the love of his life.

His childhood wasn’t particularly rocky, excluding the handful of break-ups he went through. He always had people around him everywhere he looked; standing over his head were his loving and supportive parents that invariably extended a hand when he needed to be picked up in any crisis; his sister looked over his shoulder like a hawk, keeping him from harm’s way and taking on the duty of an older sibling instead of staying the naive little girl like she was supposed to; he had a few friends in school who he used to pass free time or confide in once in a blue moon; then, there were the friends he made in summer camp who practically become his extended siblings through a year’s course of writing letters to each other and sending postcards through the mail.

They were a group of seven in total. Heeseung was an academic and music prodigy, excelling in any professional field he dipped his foot in to test the waters. Jay was a product of nepotism, aspiring to take over his father’s travel company after graduating with a business degree. Jake started as an engineering geek but eventually shifted his foundation toward the world of modelling, fashion and fame and eventually starred as one of the most wanted models for many designers and brands. Sunoo dreamt of starting a skincare brand of his own and studied chemistry and cosmetics in college- he was known amongst them for dying his hair in wild and bold colours. Jungwon, though he was in high school, was the most mature and responsible out of all of them, a taekwondo successor who had the most intricately detailed schedules to follow. Lastly came Riki, the youngest of all of them, who was the dance prodigy often compared to Micheal Jackson or Fred Astaire.

Sunghoon was an ice skater, his life and career revolving around gliding on frozen water and getting coached by previous skating Gods so that someday, he would reach their level. His mother always said he was fond of the sport because he was born in the winter season. On a cold night, while a hail storm plagued his small town, his parents drove to the hospital regardless of the risk of hypothermia and he was born. His cries overshadowed the whistles and whispers of the storm and the snow outside morphed to look like sakura petals slowly transcending off the trees to rot on the ground. He was used to the cold since the day he was born and would continue to master the skill of figure skating, treating the ice rink like a second home. Hence, he was dubbed The Ice Prince by those he called friends and family.

Moving to New York for the sake of starting fresh with his summer camp friends was a thought wilder than the dreams he had of living in a mansion and lounging in hot tubs as a hobby. But he wouldn’t be training in The Concrete Jungle if it weren’t for Heeseung and his elaborate plan of bringing all seven of them so he could focus on New York University and the rest of them could have a better shot at building futures and making careers. This meant leaving behind his parents and his sister but he told them that it would be for a few years and he would eventually come back due to homesickness. He told his friends in high school that he would keep in touch with them but it was an empty promise. Once he settled into his apartment with Jay and Jake, he was burrowing himself into a new home, a new lifestyle.

When he turned twenty-two, Sunghoon had no plans of moving back to Korea like he had told his family. Homesickness washed away with the worries of juggling between college and figure skating. Learning a new language and suppressing his urges of using Korean slang was also something that took up his consciousness while he went about his days. He was more prone to stumble on his sentences while speaking to a girl he liked or would mix up the definitions of words that sounded similar while speaking to his professors or skating coach. He paid for tutors to teach him the ins and outs of the language and eventually, he got the hang of it.

In high school, Sunghoon shuffled through four failed relationships, all ending with burnt bridges, fire setting ablaze the wood of what was left of love and desire. His first relationship was with the eccentric girl in class. She was always cracking jokes and making people laugh, only to come home to loneliness and an empty phone where no one bothered to reach out to her. He wouldn’t say he regretted dating her but it was a struggle trying to get her to confide in him. His second relationship was in sophomore year, wooing the new girl in class with charm, humour and wit but her feelings towards him came as soon as they had left and Sunghoon was left with unfulfilled promises and hopes from her. She taught him a lesson- to never rush into a relationship with someone he barely knew so his third relationship was with a close friend of his whom he had known for around three years. But their rendezvous soared downwards like a plane crash and left both of them with one less friend. His fourth relationship ended because of his abrupt plans of moving to New York. It was very brief, lasting around one or two months before they agreed on a mutual separation instead of opting for long-distance because those never worked. He didn't speak to any of them again and would be embarrassed even to contact them.

His love life was in the same state of shambles in New York. He went on a myriad of dates and blew racks of money for girls that inevitably left him because they weren’t good for each other or his affection just wasn’t enough. His relationship with girls he believed was his soul mate or future wife, too, left him high and dry with tears streaming down his face every time he was broken up with. He couldn’t understand what he was lacking and he didn’t understand why no matter the sacrifices he made or how many times he settled, he was always fucked over, lied to, or even cheated on. His trust issues surfaced after a redhead, his girlfriend of six months at the time, kissed a random tattooed biker in a club, right in front of him.

Growing up in a small town, Sunghoon was never taught the sophistication of emotions. There were only happy, sad, or angry and emotions surpassing that radar were almost taboo to discuss. His parents, though not the orthodoxy type and were well educated, didn’t seem to speak about emotions such as heartbreak or jealousy, nor did they talk about traumas that lead to trust issues, insecurities or social isolation. The public school he attended didn’t have the budget to hire a counsellor, hence most of his classmates were also unaware that they were contributing to the world of teenage angst and dilemma. They just went along with it, some victimising or being the victim themselves of bullying and other forms of distractions towards the world of young psychology and hormones. Sunghoon knew that guys would beat up another guy if they found them flirting with their girl, but he assumed the action stemmed from jealousy rather than the feeling of emasculation and embarrassment. He watched students bully the weak and short ones and assumed it was because they thought they were weird-looking and not because they were threatened by their aptitude and adroitness. He only started becoming aware of the association between actions and emotions when he began to accept the fact that he was feeling heartbreak, rather than simply labelling the ache in his chest as sadness.

Out of the seven of them, Jake was the first to get married, which came as a shock to everyone as he was barely twenty-three. He got down on one knee and slipped a ring on Chiara’s finger in the middle of the café where they had their first date. In Sunghoon’s eyes, Jake and Chiara’s relationship was what he would consider ideal. They would fight, but always came up with a solution; they disrespected each other but quickly changed the habit to make sure acts like such would never repeat; they spent months learning about each other and being patient with one another to the point where they could not only finish each other’s sentences but could decipher what one was feeling about or during a particular situation with simply a raised brow. By the time they were married, they were like a couple out of a Disney Princess movie, riding into the sunset on a pristine white horse. They were both models, and they didn’t stop each other from achieving other goals in their life. For example, Chiara was ecstatic when Jake took up photography and Jake was overjoyed when Chiara went to college to study psychology because seeing each other succeed was what made each other happy.

Sunghoon was the best man at their wedding. He planned the best bachelor party Jake could ask for and detailedly organised their wedding alongside the maid of honour, Sheila. They even went tux-shopping together while Jake helped him put on a blazer when he said, “You should bring a date to the wedding, it would look weird if my best man had no date.” Sunghoon looked at his best friend like he hadn’t cried about his cursed love life and failed luck in relationships with him all these years. It was then that he realised how hopelessly lonely he was. Jake was getting married to the love of his life, Heeseung had a girlfriend of two years and Jay was only starting to go on dates and he was already gushing about how he thought he found the one. Sunoo refused to indulge in relationships until he became successful enough to raise a family, which everyone respected. Jungwon and Riki were still single, but everyone was playing cupid for them, trying to set them up with mutuals so they could at least venture into the world of committed relationships.

It was then that he realised that perhaps, after all the relationships he had been in and out of and after all the girls that told him that he wasn’t what they were looking for, perhaps he was fated to die with no hand to hold on his deathbed and no wife to share his love of figure skating with.

Like most people in his generation, Sunghoon took to Google to find answers to his fears during many eras in his life. He fell into a rabbit hole of Reddit threads, telling him that the wait was always worth it and Quora sites on people sharing their experiences of finding their one true love much later into their lives. He read about an elderly woman who only met who she believed to be her soul mate in her sixties after her husband died of leukaemia and when all the hairs on her head turned a rich shade of grey. He even learnt about the compatibility between zodiac signs and called his mother to ask about his horoscope but it turns out his family didn’t believe in the astronomical and spiritual. He researched the meaning of moles which led him to cry to Jay while drunk about how the mole on his left pinky toe held him back from the chance of having a marriage, let alone having a girlfriend. He even went to the booth of a shady palm reader who told him to just wait until she comes- he wasted his money on a sham.

Not long after meeting the swindling palm reader, Sunghoon found himself crying in Chiara’s lap as she was the closest person he had to a sister that he could contact. His tears stained her expensive leggings and her carved nails raked his scalp while she cooed and hushed him out of loneliness. His sobs echoed between the windows and walls of their million-dollar apartment and the television played a random movie, abandoned by those who were previously watching it.

“Am I ruining your clothes?” Sunghoon sniffled and Chiara chuckled, letting her knuckles smoothly glide past the corner of his eye to wipe away his tears.

“Not at all, ‘Hoon,” she hummed. “But you gotta tell me if you’re drunk before you say anything else.”

“I had a beer before coming here.”

“That makes sense.”

Since Chiara had met him, Sunghoon’s most prominent quality was his habit of drinking. On a normal night of a weekend or weekday, he’d drink with or without his friends and go bar-hopping alone if he had to. Beer was his favourite drink but there were times he had gotten drunk on wine as well. It wasn’t to say that his alcohol tolerance was low, it was just the quantity he consumed that made those around him fear for his liver and his life. She remembered finding herself in unthinkable, yet memorable, predicaments due to his habit- she once had to talk him out of jumping off her roof because he thought someone dared him to do so. After learning about his history of failed relationships, she assumed that was where the habit stemmed from but she wouldn’t say he was the modern-day drunk Romeo, nor could he be clinically diagnosed as an alcoholic. He was just deprived of what he truly craved for too many years.

“Do you want to talk now, at least?” She cooed again, patting his hair.

Sunghoon nodded, willing himself to gravitate off her lap and against the plush cushions of the pristine couch. His hair bounced as he shook his head, using the back of his hand to wipe his blotched face. His cheeks were puffy and his eyes struggled to stay open with the warm tears protruding past his lashes.

“At this point, I really don’t think I’m gonna find love, Chiara,” he frowned, slumping into his seat and pondering at the chandelier above him. If he tuned out the noises from the television, he could hear birds chirping, crickets singing and wind carrying wrinkled leaves across the building.

Chiara let out an exasperated sigh, pursing her lips and tilting her head towards the ceiling. “Did I ever tell you how lonely I was before meeting Jake?”

“What?” Sunghoon furrowed his brows. “Well, you did. But what does that have to do with this?”

“I’m saying that, before I met Jake, I barely had any friends and thought a guy that treated me toxically was the love of my life,” she explained. “But then I met Jake and suddenly, I wasn’t lonely anymore and he brought me good things. He gave me an opportunity to build a family, he loved me like no other, he cared for me, he respected me… and the list goes on,” she waved her hand, fingers frolicking amongst the air to signify glee.

“Yeah, and then you lived happily ever after,” he rolled his eyes, a scowl reaching his lips. “You met when you were teenagers. How old were you, eighteen? I’m in my twenties now. If I don’t meet the love of my life by thirty, I know I’m dying alone.”

“We met when we were teenagers because we just got lucky!” She defended. “Our love story was supposed to go a certain way and yours is supposed to go a different way. You can’t compare, you know? It’s just gonna make you feel worse. I mean, look at Sunoo. He hasn’t been on a proper date in years.”

“That’s because he doesn’t want to!”

“That’s not my point! My point is, you’ll meet her when the time is right-”

“Please don’t start with your destiny crap-”

“And you won’t die alone!”

When Chiara shook Sunghoon’s shoulder, Jake walked into the living room, a grin on his face as he looked between his wife and best friend. The sight wasn’t new to him; Sunghoon was moody over his teetering love life and Chiara was playing the therapist to install some faith and hope into him again. She was usually successful but on the occasions that she wasn’t, she’d let him camp on their couch and wallow over his emotions over a few drinks and lousy K-dramas. Jake would accompany him on most days and she would go to work or vice versa. Other times, they would call the rest of their friends and have a game night.

“Didn’t you say that you thought you were gonna marry a lot of the girls that you dated?” Jake’s grin didn’t leave his face. He leaned against the wall closest to the couch and crossed his arms across his chest. “Maybe the next one you meet might be the real love of your life.”

“You’re not funny.”

Sunghoon turned twenty-seven faster than he anticipated. He was still figure skating; he was one of the most well-known figure skating coaches in New York, in fact. He had dyed his hair silver now, a choice of fashion he had made a couple of years prior and it simply stuck to his personality. His love life was barren at that point, entertained with a few one night stands or hookups once in a while. But he was rich and successful and was even famous amongst figure skating enthusiasts.

His friends were exceptionally successful as well, though they didn’t change as much as he did. Heeseung was a rewarded music producer, perfecting the tunes of many well-known and upcoming artists. He had a house down in the suburbs, living a rather tranquil and amicable life with his wife, Karina, and a pair of twins who were just starting kindergarten. Sunghoon would see him and everyone else on most weekends during the dinners hosted at Jake and Chiara’s exorbitant apartment.

Jake was considered one of the top models in the industry, his name often showing up alongside that of Lucky Blue Smith and Bella Hadid. A little while after his fame in modelling expanded, his photography career bloomed as some were published in Vogue and Cosmopolitan magazines. Chiara’s modelling career was similar to his, collaborating with the Hadid sisters, Emily Ratajkowski and even Kendall Jenner. With a degree in psychology, she even dabbled as a therapist while being propelled into an aristocracy. The couple’s mutual success would explain their bougie possessions. They had a son, Kai, around three years old, who was already babbling about becoming a movie director when he grew up.

Jay had taken over his father’s travel company when he graduated college. There was no denying his power and authority in running the business better than his father. He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and the spoon was getting bigger. His wife, Jade, was a childhood friend of his, the daughter of his father’s best friend and no one was surprised when their engagement was announced. Though, some speculated they were only getting married because he knocked her up. They now had a two-year-old daughter and everyone was hoping for her and Jake’s kid to grow up and get married.

It was funny, really.

Sunoo made regular trips between America and Korea, deeming them as business trips to check on how his cosmetics factories were doing. His brand was quite famous and a lot of Sunghoon’s past girlfriends- or flings- were regular customers of his. It was almost entertaining to watch when he told them that the owner of their favourite make-up brand was one of his best friends- some even tried leaving him for Sunoo but he was already engaged to none other than Chiara’s best friend, Sheila.

Jungwon, too, was engaged to a talented dancer to whom Riki had introduced him. Now, Jungwon, Riki and Ella own a dance studio, training kids who are passionate about the art. The three lived together as roommates in a cosy apartment that looked like it was out of a 90s sitcom; faint yellow paint, bathrooms with wallpaper and random wall decor that adorned every room. Riki was in a rather fresh relationship and refused to introduce his girlfriend to anyone until he was sure it was long-term- but Jay would always call him out saying, “Don’t even lie, you have terrible commitment issues. You’re gonna break up with her just like you did the last.”

Sunghoon loved his group of friends, he truly did. But the one thing that bothered him was that, at that moment, while he had the mall’s entire skating rink to himself and while he was gliding and the only sound was the sound of scraping ice, his friends were all involved with a girlfriend or life partner while he was still alone and his last rendezvous being a girl he met at a bar whose name he hadn’t even learnt because he kicked her out the next morning.

Usually, when he was skating alone, not busy tutoring boys who were overconfident about doing the pirouette or helping little girls who were scared to let go of the training handle and skate on their own, he would imagine himself in the stadium of a championship. His jeans and dusty shirt would transform into black pants and a red shirt adorned with rhinestones and loose sleeves tight at the cuffs. There would be a crowd cheering for him to perform his best figure skating tricks and throwing flowers at him and the ice would be cluttered with rose petals. His family would be sitting in the front row and his sister would have a poster larger than the size of her head with the words ‘WE LOVE YOU SUNGHOON’ written with cheap crayons-

That was his memory of when he was awarded the Novice Gold medal of the Asian Figure Skating Trophy.

Perhaps the sound of his blade shaving the ice as he figure-skated triggered such memories in him, furthering his homesickness. The frosty wind puffed up his hair and paled his skin more than he thought it could. All he heard was silence, along with what sounded like a whirring ice shaver.

The static in his ear lasted for about two more minutes as he let his thoughts wander into deeper corners of his brain, opening forgotten boxes of memories that either made him want to cry or laugh. But slicing through it all was the bleak sound of sneakers connecting with the marble tiles of the mall he was in. The Ice rink he was in was located on the ground floor of a rather small mall. Along with the ice rink, the ground floor housed shops of many fast food kiosks and beverage stalls. So, Sunghoon's feet tilted to stop his blades from moving any further and the sound of scraping ice was ignored when he faced the direction of the food stalls.

Jogging towards the boba tea café was a girl wearing old, musty sneakers and a stack of books between her arms. Her hair bounced as she finally stood in a long cue to give her order and her red-tinted lips pursed as she stood on the tips of her toes to see how long the cue was. She wore thin, silver glasses that complimented her eyes, and silver rings that matched the colour of her white nail polish. Her brown trench coat covered most of her outfit but she wore a white shirt and black trousers, a belt to top it all off. With furrowed brows, she checked the time on what looked like a vintage watch on her wrist, tapped her musty sneakers against the floor in haste and poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue.

Sunghoon didn't know how he noticed such details while standing at least a dozen metres away from this mystery woman. However, he could admit the clichés he was experiencing at that moment. The world around him stopped and everyone was moving in slow motion apart from him and the girl with silver glasses. He could hear his heart beating in his ears, his breath becoming more shallow with every passing second. A few feet away, a little boy's dollop of ice cream fell from his cone and his cries echoed across the floors of the mall. A few feet away from that was a woman who bumped her steaming coffee into another man and his curses could be heard from miles away. Just outside of the ice rink was a little girl holding onto the metal railings separating her from dry to ice and yelling to her parents about how she wanted to learn to skate. These were moments he usually noticed, but this time, it was all irrelevant because of the girl with silver glasses and red-tinted lips.

HE DIDN’T KNOW WHAT took over him but Sunghoon found himself footing towards her with subtle steps. Out of his friend group, he was known to be the one with the best pick-up lines, smooth-talking girls into his apartment as easily as batting an eye. His grin charmed hundreds and he didn’t even know when he attained such ability. Perhaps it was around the time he stopped looking for love and started looking for rendezvous or perhaps it was after the time the palm reader robbed him of his precious twelve bucks. But now, he was nervous and he hadn’t felt this way since the first time he met his last girlfriend and that was years ago.

I should be running away, he thought to himself when he deciphered what he was feeling. It was almost like meeting a new friend again, a profound familiarity in his heartbeat. He asked himself what he planned on saying to her; what it was that people usually said when wanting to acquaint themselves with someone new. It wouldn’t be as simple as introducing himself, it wasn’t a café that they were in. It was a mall- people were bustling around with their own problems, talking amongst themselves and creating a buzz of sound that soon became white noise to him and they were worried about moving further up the line to get a drink, as was the girl he was standing behind.

His intention wasn’t to be a stalker or a creep but he could easily look over her shoulder and read the spine of her books. All the books were bound hard-cover and looked like they were taken out of an abandoned bookshelf. With the number of times Sunghoon had explored the mall, he figured she had bought them from the antique store located somewhere on the top floor. The titles on the books were almost faded but he could figure them out as academic works- some were about wars he had never even heard of and some were about archaeology. He deemed himself lucky when he recognised a title. “The Battle of Yangxia”, it read in faded, golden cursive and he fought his conscience to remember where he remembered the name from.

A few months ago, Jay was hyper-fixated on Chinese history and spent an entire dinner ranting about the several wars they were never taught in high school history. Riki had pestered about how high school education was useless compared to what he learnt in college and that led to a whole conversation on its own. That night, Sunghoon remembered laying on Jake’s balcony hammock with a beer in one hand and phone in the other, sexting some girl he found on a dating app.

“I’ve heard about that before,” he meekly mumbled, leaning to reach the girl’s ear.

The breath of air he let out after finishing his sentence tickled her skin, travelling down her neck and running a shiver down her spine. She didn’t register his sentence but his voice and presence made her look past her shoulder, brows furrowing with confusion. She hugged her books tighter, intimidated by a stranger. It would be the first time any stranger took interest in her, the perplexed gape of her jaw was justified.

“The Battle of Yangxia?” Sunghoon cleared his throat when they made eye contact, offering her a toothy grin whilst clasping his hands behind his back. He rocked back and forth on his heels, tripping while failing to keep up with the line moving forward.

“Oh,” the girl looked at her books, re-reading the same title he was talking about. “Yeah,” she smiled back, expecting the interaction to end and looking away. She almost rolled her eyes when he spoke again.

“My friend had a phase where he geeked out about Chinese history,” he continued leaning towards her, hoping to elicit more of an interaction from her. “I’m Sunghoon, by the way.”

“Y/N,” she didn’t want to come off as rude or disrespectful so she introduced herself anyway. With another glance over her shoulder, she offered him a polite smile, ignoring the arm he had extended for a handshake.

Sunghoon cleared his throat and returned his hand to his back when he realised her rejection. He chewed on his lips, standing straight and continuing moving forward in the line while keeping his gaze on her hair, waves that flowed down her back that complimented her outfit. Then he stared at her sneakers which had worn-out laces and soles that looked like they had walked back and forth in the fires of hell. It almost made him chuckle but he figured she must have a reason for still keeping them.

“So, Y/N,” he mused. “Do you come around here often? First time I’ve seen you around.”

Y/N really rolled her eyes this time, clenching her jaw and poking her tongue into the flesh of her cheek. She wasn’t sure why she was getting annoyed. Normally, if someone tried making conversation with her or noticed her books, she would sheepishly respond with a plethora of nerves. But with this man, or Sunghoon, as he called himself, she wanted to move as far away as possible from him. But she thought she could humour him for some time, perhaps get rid of the pit- or butterflies- in her stomach. She couldn’t tell which it was but regardless, she took it negatively.

“You say that like you work here?” She looked over her shoulder with a scoff, lips almost pulling into a smile.

“I do, actually, work here,” Sunghoon chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m the ice-skating coach here.”

Y/N’s eyes almost widened, leaning to her side to glance at the huge ice-skating rink that was relatively familiar to her. For the time being, it was empty and if she squinted hard enough, she could see the fog of frost floating about the rink. “What’re you doing here instead of taking a class then?” she raised a brow.

“Even teachers need their breaks,” he defended with a pursed smile and shrugged. “And what do you do?” By the time he asked his question, Y/N had started ordering her drink. He interjected, asking for her to order the same for him but she looked at him with narrowed eyes, expression questioning his intentions. “I'll pay,” he offered enthusiastically.

“I’d rather pay for my own drink,” she tutted with a sarcastic smile and handed the cashier her money. “Thanks, though,” Sunghoon dug in his pockets to find change and he paid as well, rocking back and forth on his heels with crossed arms.

It was a moment of awkwardness as they waited for their drinks. Y/N stared at Sunghoon with eyes narrowed to slits, shifting her weight onto one leg and tapping her feet impatiently on the floor. Her shabby sneakers made thuds that were drowned out by the hustle and bustle of the mall, the rest of the world moving past them while Sunghoon looked everywhere but at her. For the first time in a long time, he felt dejected and incompetent in front of someone he intended to pursue. He wondered if she should take it as a sign to move on, simply walk away with his drink and never look back because he knew he would cringe and hit his head against his pillow. Yet another part of him wondered how it would feel to pry at this girl, Y/N, and find out whether attitude was the only thing she had to offer.

“I’m an archaeologist, by the way,” she told him while grabbing their drinks. She smiled at him before handing him his tiger milk boba, struggling to keep her books in her arms.

“That’s cool,” Sunghoon grinned, taking his drink from her. “You need help with those?”

“No,” she assured and stepped back, giving him a small wave before walking away.

He stared at her as she made her way to the exit and he could see the corners of her books peeking from her grin, jogging as she drank her traditional boba tea. “Can I get your number, by chance?” he called out and he was sure she heard him but chose to ignore him. Regardless, he walked away, too, with a smile on his face and a skip in his step as he caught hold of the straw in his mouth.

After that interaction, Sunghoon drove to Jake and Chiara’s house like there was no tomorrow; like his heart would stop if he didn’t tell his best friends about the girl he had just met. He wanted to tell them all about the girl who showed him attitude but attention at the same time and he wanted to tell them about how she was an archaeologist. He wanted to tell them about her battered shoes and he wanted to tell them about every single time she smiled at him because, God, did it feel like a breath of fresh air after talking to Y/N; like it was his first time tasting sugar; like his dreams had come to life.

When he burst through his friends’ door, he took no time rushing in and asking for everyone’s attention. The smile on his face lit up the room brighter than the chandelier ever could and Jake couldn’t remember the last time he saw his best friend that way. From the kitchen, he heard Jay asking what all the ruckus was about and Sunghoon skipped towards him, grabbing onto the chair beside him and slipping into the seat.

“I have to tell you guys something,” Sunghoon gushed but his brows raised when making eye contact with Jay. “What are you doing here anyways?”

“Having lunch?” He responded with his mouth stuffed with bok choy and egg, chopsticks held in the air as though he was asking how more obvious his predicament could be.

“What is it?” Chiara entered the kitchen with Kai in her arms, Jake following suit with widened eyes and an excited grin.

Sunghoon ushered everyone to sit and took Kai in his arms. He let there be a moment of curiosity while everyone begged him to tell them what he was excited about and why he was smiling like he had just seen a rainbow. The kettle whistled while Chiara guessed that he might have gotten selected for a figure skating show and the oven dinged when Jake guessed that he probably bought another dog. Sunghoon was known to adopt dogs- he had six in his home being cared for by a caretaker he had to hire.

“Well,” he started. “Guess what Kai? I met a girl,” he cooed with a toothy smile, kissing the kid’s dark hair who laughed in his lap and clapped. Kai looked at him with curious eyes, having no clue what it meant but was excited by the smile on his uncle's face.

Jay and Jake’s expressions dropped, sighing with the anti-climatic news. “Another girl,” the latter rolled his eyes but his wife slapped his bicep in disappointment.

“Don’t be that way,” Chiara tutted and turned to Sunghoon with glimmering eyes. She rested her chin on her palm, her elbow on the table. “Tell us about her.”

And so Sunghoon told them everything he could muster up while hugging Kai like he was his anchor to reality. His friends listened to him intently, wondering if this encounter would end like all the others. While he talked about her, Chiara and Jake were reminded of how they first met in a photoshoot that started awkwardly but ended in an unexpected friendship. When Sunghoon told them she was an archaeologist, Jay suggested they google her as Jake and Chiara left to sleep.

Jay and Sunghoon spent the rest of the night on Google with a couple of beers, going through any article with her name mentioned. They didn’t find any social media but they did stay up reading one of her papers that had been published on artefacts dug out in Cairo, devouring hours of their time carefully decoding the meaning of words they had never heard of or learning about people they’d never learnt of.

When they were done reading the paper, Sunghoon slouched deeper into the chair and threw his head back, taking a moment to stare at the ceiling and ask himself if he were crazy for Y/N or crazy for love. “Do you think I’ll ever see her again?” By that time, Jay was fast asleep, his face pressed onto the cold table. Sunghoon chuckled and shook his head, his hair falling over his forehead. He dragged his palms down his face, willing himself to stay awake. “Will I fuck this up?” he whispered.

That same night, Y/N had settled in the public library with her books and her students’ previous test papers. The glare of her laptop sored her eyes while she looked through mark scheme upon mark scheme. She must say, she would get quite disappointed with some of her students. Ones that had potential were the ones that flunked their exams and those that did well in school were the ones she saw no future for. In only her second year of teaching, she wondered if she would stay a professor and the esteemed New York University or if she would get another chance to go another dig like she did in Cairo a few years ago.

Her life was peaceful when she wasn’t travelling or going on year-long digs. It was filled with old artefacts, books that could fall apart if she held them the wrong way and cracking paintings that either hung on her walls or stacked behind her closet. The latest addition would be grading test papers and prolonged essays. Sometimes, she liked this life. It would get lonely but her golden retriever, Blue, would keep her company. Her apartment was void of emotion but she was rarely home anyway. Other times, she missed being around people she could converse with. She missed sitting under the sun with a straw hat on her head, brushing away at the sand to uncover an old statue with people that she could laugh with.

By the time she was finished grading papers, the library was empty and her head was swarming with thoughts about the man she met in the mall. Sunghoon, as she recalled his name, wasn’t hard to find online. There were videos of his younger self competing in figure skating tournaments, working in the mall with a pearly smile on his face and a glimmer in his eyes and though he didn’t post much on social media, he was all over model Jake Sim’s Instagram. He was best friends with him and even knew an upcoming producer, Heeseung Lee. She even found pictures of Sunghoon Park with his natural black hair.

On the way home, she watched all the videos she could find of him figure skating, the glow of her phone illuminating the back of her cab. When she found herself smiling, she put her phone away and gazed at the street lights, wondering if she would ever see him again. When she saw a few Chinese restaurants and convenience stores still open, she realised she should have gotten dinner before going home. There were no groceries in the fridge or her cupboards. Perhaps there was some milk left. Y/N’s ego was too big to even ask her parents for a loan.

She was reminded of how she had a roommate a few years ago- Anna. She used to be the one who restocked groceries and cooked dinner, sometimes even reminding her to take care of herself and sleep; the responsible one, essentially. It used to be fun back then when they would sometimes stay up late and binge dramedies or gossip about whatever their work lives had to offer. Now she was somewhere in London, working with Bellerby Globemakers as a cartographer and left Blue for her to take care of. They lived together because it was easier to pay rent and serve food on their plates. Now they were in better places in life, earning more money than they previously were yet Y/N still struggled to keep her schedules in check. Oh, how she missed having a roommate.

The coming weekend, she willed herself out of bed and into a grocery store. Y/N realised that some of her fondest childhood memories were amongst the isles of many stores similar to the ones she was in. She laughed the loudest when her father pushed her around in one of those bright and colourful trolleys kids could sit in and her eldest brother always let her buy whatever junk food she wanted, regardless of what their mother said. She remembered how she would shoplift stationery with her cousins until she turned nineteen and she still had some of the pictures she took with her high school friends in the breakfast cereal aisle.

She also noticed that it was during times like this, when she wasn’t preoccupied with work, that her thoughts would wander off to Sunghoon- the boy she dubbed a handsome stranger with pouty lips and starry eyes. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she was approached by a stranger who wanted to strike up a conversation. These days, the only social interactions she had were with fellow professors from the university, her students, her family or the occasional text on social media that she never bothered responding to. Though she realised she was awfully mean to him, she had forgotten what it was like interacting with people.

Y/N forgot when she became so introverted. Or rather, she forgot why she became comfortable being an introvert. Back in high school, she remembered always wanting to go out with her friends on the weekend and she remembered unapologetically making acquaintances with any human that crossed her path. Now she was reserved, too shy to approach anyone and building up her walls every time someone had something to say to her. Maybe it was a phase she would never grow out of- her parents did always say that in your mid-twenties, your personality kind of just sticks.

Her cart was filled with frozen foods and bags of fruit by the time she stood in line to check out. Impatiently, she tapped her foot on the floor and checked her watch, wondering when she could go home and heat a pizza for lunch. From what she remembered, she still had her new books to finish reading for the updated syllabus in class and she committed to cleaning her apartment so that was what she was going to do for the rest of the day. Eat, read, clean and repeat.

While Y/N stood in line, Sunghoon and Riki were walking past the same grocery store. Sunghoon stopped in his tracks when he recognised her from the corner of his eyes, through the glare of the glass doors. She was wearing that trench coat again and her feet were clad with the same worn-out sneakers. Her fingers were adorned with vintage, silver rings, this time and he noticed how her shopping cart was basically a stack of frozen pizzas and a few green apples. He chuckled mindlessly to himself.

Riki continued walking for a good ten seconds before he realised his friend was peeping into some shop with the brightest smile he’d seen on him in days, eyes gleaming under the sunlight. He swore he saw his entire body glowing from some kind of happiness he didn’t understand.

“Hyung?” Riki called, raising his brows and slightly stretching his arms as though he was asking what made him stop walking. “What are you staring at?”

Sunghoon didn’t move his gaze or falter his expression but instead continued to wave Riki towards him, flailing his hand around in the air in a way that made him look stupid. “You remember that girl I told you about?” He asked when he approached him.

“The one from the mall?” Riki confirmed. “The one that acted like a bitch?”

“Hey, I never called her that,” Sunghoon stood straight again, furrowing his brows at the boy.

“Well, you described her that way,” Riki raised his hands in defence, pursing his lips and taking a step back. “What about her, though?”

“She’s in the store,” Sunghoon pointed a thumb towards where she stood and Riki traced his gaze in her direction. “The one in the trench coat?”

“Oh,” Riki cocked his head to the side. “She’s pretty. But I’m getting late for work and you promised you’d visit the studio today,” he argued, face falling into a frown.

It wasn’t that Riki was uninterested in his friend’s love life- he knew how much he craved a significant other; someone to love and to be loved by. Yet, this time, the boy was only pulling Sunghoon’s attention away because he was sceptical of how it was going to end. No, he didn’t have faith in the fact that Sunghoon and Y/N could end up happy, solely judging from past experience.

He’d seen how much he was hurt by all the girls in his past. He was there when Sunghoon would stumble into one of their houses drunk, whining over heartbreak for probably the hundredth time. Riki was there to take care of him on nights when he was supposed to be studying for his finals and he was there when Sunghoon would introduce yet another girl to the group- he would call out their flaws every single time and he was right about the girls every single time. Though he hoped his predictions would turn out wrong, he knew his judgement was usually right.

He still remembered meeting that one red-head ex-girlfriend of his from a couple of years ago. Sunghooon had brought her into Jake and Chiara’s kitchen and he just knew that she would cheat on him. He presumed it was something about the way she smiled or the way she shook his hand that gave him a negative first impression. She was the sultry type, and though he had no issue with that, it didn’t mean she could use it as an excuse to flirt with every other man in the room. Riki was right about her and it would only make sense if he assumed he would be right about Y/N- she wasn’t a good idea. But for Sunghoon’s sake, he decided to think positive thoughts- maybe they would work out and he would get married and finally allow Riki a chance to be the best man in someone's wedding.

“Riki, just wait for like, ten minutes,” he pleaded. “Yeah? I’ll just… say hi and come back.”

“My, God,” Riki rolled his eyes while Sunghoon slowly stepped towards the entry of the store with a lopsided grin. “Fine, go,” he shook his head in disappointment and stared at the rest of their interaction from the other side of the glass, gagging with a cringe.

Sunghoon walked into the store with a skip in his step, grabbing the nearest candy bar and beelining towards the check-out line. He didn’t know where he got his confidence from- when he saw her for the first time in that mall, he was a nervous bundle of a mess but now, he stood right behind Y/N and he smiled when he knew she didn’t realise. So, he leaned towards her ear and said, “We have got to stop meeting like this.”

Y/N recognised his voice immediately, swinging around with a gasp of surprise. She covered her gaping mouth with the back of her hand, her glasses reflecting the ray of sunlight when she made eye contact with him. When she comprehended his figure, she felt a wave of relief wash down her torso. “You scared me,” she moved her hand to her chest, gulping. “Didn’t think I’d see you again,” she breathed out a smile.

“That too, in the same predicament,” Sunghoon smiled back.

The pair moved to the front of the cue and he helped her stock her items onto the conveyer belt. “What are you doing here, anyway?” she asked. “Stalking me?”

“No,” he mused innocently. “But if that’s what makes you feel better…”

“Oh, please,” she brushed him off and glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Hey, we’re meeting in a checkout line for the second time. Don’t you think it’s fate?”

“You’re stupid if you believe in fate,” she laughed at his pouting expression. “Seriously, you believe in that crap?”

“Don’t make me feel bad about it, I have a good reason,” he defended.

“Well, what’s the reason?” She paid the bill with her phone, waiting for an answer from the handsome stranger.

He smirked at her, digging one hand into the pocket of his trousers and the other bringing the candy bar to his chin. He looked her up and down, raising an eyebrow to question if she knew what response would come. When she repeated her question, he asked, “I’ll tell you about it on a date sometime?”

SEEING SUNGHOON SKATING ON the ice rink in jeans and a shirt that barely insulated his torso was like watching birds flying freely with their wings spread in freedom. Y/N supposed that after years of dedicating his time to the rink, one would most likely get used to the cold. He had the brightest smile on his face, the type that made his cheeks bulge and his eyes disappear into his eyelids. His teeth glimmered pearly white behind his pouty lips and she wasn’t sure she had the heart to join him and ruin his solitude.

Over the past few months that Y/N spent getting to know Sunghoon, she realised how much he enjoyed his own company. It was ironic really, how he was known as the womaniser amongst his friends but would separate hours in his schedule just to be alone in his apartment with a beer and an old movie, in solitary with his thoughts and his six dogs. She also learnt that he kept a diary, entries meticulously planned in a manner that allowed him to write the smallest details of his day. It would explain the locked drawers in his room- a precaution he consciously took part in because he knew his friends would snoop if they ever found them. He agreed he told them pretty much everything but every man needs a secret of his own, he would say.

Even with their busy schedules, both being teachers of some sort, they managed to squeeze in a few dates after class, for lunch, during the weekends or late-night walks in the park where the moon was waxing but the stars weren’t as prominent due to New York’s pollution. She was even a frequent visitor at his apartment after the first month of knowing him, often sleeping over because she was too lazy to catch a cab and refused to let him drive her home. The latter was mostly because she was scared to bring him to her apartment, the messy space between four walls she lived in that hadn’t been rearranged or properly cleaned in over a year. At least there were no bugs hiding in nooks and crevices.

On the nights she spent in his apartment, one that was only slightly bigger than her own, they’d find themselves lying on his couch, his chin on her head, as they watched a random black and white movie they couldn’t help laughing at. His dogs would be with them, some gathered on the floor and others burrowing themselves in the spaces on his couch. Some nights, they would doze asleep and other times they’d end up in conversations where Sunghoon would talk about his days in high school with a roll in his eyes or about his family with the same smile he would have while skating on the ice rink. He would tell her about his tight-knit group of friends and he would talk about his struggles with perfecting the English language. Y/N would tell him about her siblings- four brothers and three sisters- with whom she talked to every day but had no idea of how she struggled financially sometimes. She would tell him about her international escapades when she went on archaeology trips and to make him feel better, she would tell him that her high school experience wasn’t something she wanted to look back on either.

She still remembered the first conversation they had when he took her out for the first time. He brought her to an upper-class restaurant for dinner, the pair dressed in formal attire to fit the aesthetic. Y/N had panicked at first, rambling about how she wasn’t sure if she could afford it but he assured her that he got the tab and that their table was already reserved so she had no other choice but to accompany him. With a grin, he led her to their table and pulled her chair out for her like a gentleman from a family with old money. The restaurant had golden chandeliers and a menu that went on for an unlimited amount of pages. For the first few minutes, they sat awkwardly, having no idea how to start a conversation but then she told him how it had been years since she came to a fancy restaurant as such and the pair couldn’t shut up around each other since then.

Their other dates included trips to museums where Y/N would effortlessly describe every artefact or painting on display and Sunghoon would listen to the historical anecdotes she had to offer. They once spent hours at The MET- she knew the history and he knew the celebrity galas that would take place annually. He took her to a bookstore once and he realised that if she could, she would have bought half the books in the store. She told him that she could finish an average novel in one and a half days and he refused to believe her unless he witnessed it first-hand. It was a bet the pair had forgotten about but he brought it up during a random phone call but she never found the time to prove herself.

“Come join me, Y/N,” Sunghoon waved for her from the middle of the ice rink and she nervously shook her hair.

Surprisingly, it was the first time he took her ice skating. One would assume it would be the first date he’d take her on because it was all he could talk about sometimes. Meanwhile, Y/N had never been ice skating before. She wasn’t much of a sports enthusiast either so convincing her to play any form of sport would be taking her miles away from her comfort zone. Her biggest form of adrenaline would be riding a high-risk amusement park ride or teaching a class on Malta’s catacombs without previous preparation.

“Come on,” Sunghoon encouraged again, slowly making his way towards her with his hands stretched in front of him and an excited smile beaming on his snowy features. “Don’t be nervous, I’ll hold your hands until you get the hang of it.”

His bare hands hold her glove-clad pair and her gaze stays on the way he holds her and wistfully walks her into the ice. She almost trips at first but after a few rounds of stomping and digging her skating blades into the ice, she could skate on her own without trembling or shaking. Sunghoon made rounds around her and took pictures of her, commenting on how she looked cute with a helmet on her head and a puffer jacket on her shoulders. She giggled and tried covering up the camera of his phone but failed and focused on balancing herself instead.

When Sunghoon giggled, she found herself staring at him for longer than she usually would. When she agreed to go on a date with him all those months ago, she wasn’t expecting herself to enjoy his company. She expected them to come out in the end as friends but then she found herself texting him every morning before waking up and every night before falling asleep. She thought about him every moment she had to herself and waited for the next time she could potentially meet him. She found herself noticing and making note of his small habits and characteristics and she wondered if he prioritised her the same way.

The last time she remembered feeling this attached to someone was in high school. Her brothers had warned her about the boy she had been getting close to and even threatened to harm him if she was harmed. They had dated for a short period, their relationship questionable to her siblings but deemed perfect by her friends. When they broke up, she remembered spending weeks crying over loneliness and it was then that she realised how toxic it all had been. With that memory in her head, she approached Sunghoon with more caution, especially while knowing his history with women.

“It’s getting late, no?” He pulled her to the exit of the rink by her hands, softly whispering in her ear. “We should probably head home.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, pulling off her gloves and jacket while he helped rid her of the horrid helmet that messed with her hair.

“I’ll drive you home?” He offered but was met with a brief moment of silence.

He waited for her to respond, her smile slowly fading from her face, replaced by exhaustion and fatigue. Y/N thought about how she hadn't enjoyed herself in so long and the only reason she was ending her days with tiredness from activities was because of Sunghoon. If she was being honest, he was probably the only person she had been outside her house with since Sarah.

“I don’t wanna go home,” she admitted, a shy purse on her lips.

Sunghoon chuckled and kneeled to help her off her skating shoes. “I just realised you’ve never taken me to your place,” he mumbled. “Why not tonight?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I like your apartment better.” “Are you ever gonna let me in your apartment?”

“Well, not today,” she passed off her comment as a joke but realised how put off he was by this. His gaze lowered and his lips pressed into a straight line. She wasn’t sure if she was even saying the right things anymore. “Can we just spend the night at your place for now? Come over next week, I’ll introduce you to my sisters.”

With that, Sunghoon complied with a smile and the pair spent the night cuddled in his bed, falling into a deep slumber.

Y/N spent the next week cleaning her apartment to perfection, not like before when she’d just scrub her tables and collapse from laziness. No, she put her heart and soul into making her apartment look presentable. Her countertops showed her reflection and her tables were organised after what felt like decades. Paintings and piles of books sat on her bay window which she excused for aesthetic purposes and her carpet wasn’t lined with Blue’s shedding anymore. She didn’t just do this for her sisters, she realised it was mostly to give Sunghoon a good first impression. Her sisters knew she was messy but getting to know someone new and allowing them into a messy apartment was like being handed the death sentence in her books.

The day her sisters would visit rolled around in less time than she expected. They brought her huge bouquets of flowers and home-cooked meals to have together for dinner. God knows how long it’s been since you must have cooked, they said while pinching her cheeks and for the first time in a long time, she was reminded of how much she used to dread being the youngest sibling of eight. Willow and Rose, being the eldest compared to Laurel and Y/N, tended to baby them to the point of frustration. They were adults now, living independently with their individual families but the oldest siblings still had their way of annoying the youngest.

All her brothers, Willow and Rose were married and Laurel was very recently engaged. Using that excuse, they crashed at Y/N’s apartment when they weren’t out celebratory shopping. From the second they entered her house, it felt like all hell had broken loose; like a tsunami of opinions had been unleashed. Willow was tutting at her messy fridge and Rose was opening and closing her cupboards in hopes of finding cleanliness but there was no hope. With a pitiful smile, Laurel sat on the couch with her arms crossed and Y/N joined her.

Over the next few hours, she had an earful of how she should move to an apartment with paint that didn’t chip off her walls and how she should rid herself of some of her useless positions. They demanded to go grocery shopping later and insisted on cooking dinner because she looked like she hadn’t eaten in over a century. At the end of the day, Y/N was the youngest of them all and would be pampered the most.

She formed an image in her head where she was surrounded by her three sisters with forks, spoons and chopsticks piled with food being shoved down her throat. Her tiny table was filled with dishes from all sorts of cuisines and juices of all kinds of fruit. As the cherry on top, there was a giant chocolate cake placed right at the centre. She was trying her best not to choke on the food, her cheeks swollen red, while her sisters wore hearty smiles, oblivious to her suffering from their smothering care.

“Make something nice for dinner, then,” Y/N stopped herself from flinching at the image in her head, one that would surely haunt her in her dreams. “I’ll introduce you to someone.”

Sunghoon didn’t realise how nervous he was to meet Y/N’s sisters until a few hours before he had to meet them. It was a mix of excitement and dread; his lack of confidence in himself to impress a potential partner’s family. He had texted her relentlessly, asking the most mindless doubts about what colour clothes to wear, if he should bring them any gifts or if he should dye his hair back to black because his platinum blond felt unprofessional all of a sudden. He wondered if they would disapprove of his profession and chalk it up to the fact that he had wealthy parents but he had to remind himself that Y/N’s profession wasn’t providing her with much earnings either.

Y/N responded to his texts calmly, which brought him the same effect. He found himself taking deeper breaths and told him that this wouldn’t be the first time he’s met a girl’s family. It was just her sisters which meant he wouldn’t have to face the wrath of her brothers yet. From what she had told him, they could start a boxing match with him in the middle of the road if they thought he wasn’t good enough for their sister. He wondered how some of the sisters managed to get married with such protective brothers.

Y/N gave him simple advice: compliment Willow's hair, she’ll like you instantly; bring chocolates as a present and Rose will be the first to commend you; ask Laurel how she met her fiancé, she loves telling the story; and don’t make it obvious that I gave you this advice.

He repeated these points to himself as he stood in front of her door, a box of gourmet chocolates in his hands and a red scarf tied around his neck. Dramatically, for his own satisfaction, he breathed heavily and told himself that dinner would go perfectly as planned if he just stuck to the advice.

Compliment Willow's hair.

Give Rose the chocolates.

Ask Laurel about her fiancé.

Be natural.

Then, the door opened before he could knock thrice and Y/N stood in front of him on the verge of sweating, a faux and toothy smile on her face. Her widened eyes told him to hurry inside the apartment and he made a point to slip his shoes before he followed her into the living room.

Her apartment wasn’t what he expected. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure what he expected. When he would imagine her in her apartment, he would simply picture a space similar to his home; white walls, minimalistic furniture and large balconies. But her apartment was something he would expect out of Pinterest, the type that girls swooned over as dark academia but in reality was just messily decorated and cleaned. Her walls were ivory with chipping paint, her couch a mustard yellow and her shelves overflowing with books that she had to pile in corners of her room. There were a myriad of paintings, some framed and some not, some hung neatly on the wall and others leaning onto any flat surface. He also spotted random artefacts, ones he was sure she would give a backstory of when the dinner is over.

“Sunghoon,” Y/N whispered rather agitatedly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled with a shy smile. “Just checking out your apartment.”

Rolling her eyes, she led him to the kitchen, her sisters swallowed in a conversation at the dinner table. The three sisters ceased their exchange in silence with smiles as welcoming and warm as the dishes on the tables. To his relief, he didn’t have to introduce himself. He simply stood there, palms sweating, legs on the verge of folding and a toothy smile that he would not want to be photographed in, while Y/N introduced him to her sisters and rid him of his scarf.

“You’re just on time,” Rose cheered with her hands together, ushering Sunghoon to the empty seat beside her. “And you brought chocolate!” She cheered as he made himself comfortable in the wooden chair, an awkward chuckle slipping past his lips. He weaved his fingers together on the table while she took the box of chocolates in her hands and examined the brand in awe.

Ding! Sunghoon thought to himself as a moment of victory.

“It’s considered rude to visit someone’s house for the first time without gifts, in my family,” Sunghoon blabbered and shared an award glance with Y/N.

Willow and Laurel looked at him with questioning looks and he offered them another awkward smile. “Y/N told us you’re from Korea?” Willow asked.

“Yeah,” Sunghoon nodded. Then followed a moment of silence no one knew how to fill. The group of five simply looked at each other and Blue entered the kitchen from one of the bedrooms like a saving grace. “Oh, is this your dog?” he looked at Y/N with excitement and slipped off his seat to kneel in front of the Golden Retriever.

“Yeah, his name is Blue,” Y/N cooed with a proud smile.

“I know, you told me,” he hummed, ruffling Blue’s fur and touching his nose to the dog’s.

“You’re fond of dogs?” Laurel asked.

“I adore them,” he mused. “I’ve got six dogs myself.”

With that statement, the conversation somehow burst between the group. Though Y/N didn’t contribute much, she enjoyed the sight in front of her. Willow filled Sunghoon’s plate with food despite his objections and Laurel was gushing about her fiancé’s dog- which is when Sunghoon slipped in the question of how they met. Ding! She rambled about how they met in the airport at the ripe age of twenty-one and had been in each other’s lives since then- for eight years.

The story almost brought Sunghoon to tears, being a sucker for love himself. He felt jealous of people that had perfect and long-lasting relationships, the type where they would meet at young ages and grow old together and survive life through thick and thin. It was the type of love he always craved for. But then his gaze met Y/N and he forgot about the pang of loneliness in his chest. He continued asking Willow which salon she went to because her hair looked pristine. Ding!

As dinner came to an end, they told him anecdotes of their childhood and embarrassed Y/N to their full capacity. A story that stuck with him was of when they took a family trip to the beach, eight kids in the back of the car with their miserable parents in the front, fighting for just a moment of silence or peace. Y/N was described as a loud child, the one that was most spoiled because she was the youngest, showered with love from her older siblings and all her wishes granted by her parents. That day, she had spent all her time with her eldest brother because he was brooding from going through a recent breakup and played around him building terrible sand castles and collecting broken seashells until he laughed and played with her.

They even showed him her baby pictures.

He could imagine Y/N at that age, holding sand in her chubby palms and laughing while running away from the waves. He could imagine her in a pink-coloured bucket hat covering her tiny head, knitted onesies as her outfit for the beach. He could imagine her milk teeth peeking from behind her lips when she laughed and he could imagine just how happy she must have been when her brother accepted her seashells as a token of happiness.

“What are you laughing at?” Y/N asked, brushing her fingers over his chin.

The pair had winded up on her couch once her sisters were off to sleep. Sunghoon’s old figure skating videos were playing on the television because according to Y/N, if you get to see my childhood pictures, I get to see yours. They were long forgotten by both and the television reflected black while they kissed and cuddled, anything to use their time alone for their benefit. Eventually, they ended up naked under a thin blanket, his slender hands drawing circles on her shoulder and her arms wrapped around his neck, pecking his jaw anytime she felt like it.

“Nothing,” he chuckled, shaking his head and kissing her forehead. “I’m just thinking about you being all hyper and active as a baby,” he confessed, unable to stop the rest of his giggles.

“Hey,” she furrowed her brows, attempting to kick her leg at him but her movements were constricted as he held her tighter. “You just called me boring now.”

“No, don’t take it that way,” he grinned. “It’s just hard to imagine you now the way you were as a child. You know, because you’re all calm and collected now. The only times I’ve seen you laugh, like properly laugh and cackle-”

“I don’t cackle-”

“Is when we watch funny movies or when I make jokes,” he mused. “I mean even at dinner, your sisters made pretty good jokes but you didn’t laugh.”

“I normally would have. I’m quite open around my family,” she mumbled. “Just kinda felt overwhelmed today.”

“Because of me?”

She nodded against his chest.

“Why is that?”

“Because before you came, I was stressed thinking of whether they’d like you or not. I was praying that they’d like you,” she admitted. “And once you came and they started getting along with you, I was so relieved. I mean, even Willow seemed to get along with you so well. At that point, I had used up all my energy so I just took the time to relax and… observed, I guess.”

Sunghoon hummed, letting his fingers run lines up and down her spine. “What’d you observe, then?”

“Nothing in particular,” she said. “Just listening to them talk and you talk and bonding. It was nice to watch.”

“I’m glad it went well, then,” he nodded, chin moving to rest on her head. “I really thought they would hate me, you know? I was nervous before meeting them, too. Rose is the one that made it less awkward, it’s honestly all thanks to her that I managed with conversation.”

“Yeah, she’s always been like that,” Y/N agreed. “She has a way of making people around her feel comfortable. It’s not gonna be that way with my brothers, though.”

“Oh, dear God, I don’t even wanna think about that,” Sunghoon whined, hugging her closer as if it could change the inevitable.

“It’s fine, ‘Hoon,” she chuckled. “I’ll be there. My sisters will be there. I’ve told my parents somewhat about you and they seem to be fond of you. They even ask about you sometimes-”

“You talk to your parents about me?” Sunghoon’s grin widened into a smirk, moving his head so that he could peek at the flustered look on her face.

“Yeah?” She trailed, her cheeks turning a shade of crimson he couldn’t notice in the dark.

“I’ll be honest with you,” he started. “I told my parents about you, too.”

“Really?” Y/N’s eyes couldn’t stop blinking for a moment, her mouth hanging agape

“Yeah, why is that so surprising?”

With a shit-eating grin on his mouth, he lifted her by her waist and made her straddle his hips so that he could see her expressions as they talked. She yelped as she made herself comfortable, reaching towards the armrest to grab his shirt so she could cover herself. Her palms spanned across his chest while his fingers trailed to unbutton his shirt on her torso, playing with the skin on her stomach.

“Well, you know,” she responded with a grin reflecting his, unable to control the butterflies in her stomach. “You told me about your past relationships… and I didn’t think you’d tell them so early-”

“It’s been a while since we started seeing each other, no?”

“Yeah,” she nodded.

“It only seemed fair that I told them,” he shrugged, hands pulling her closer. “My sister’s quite excited to meet you, by the way.”

“How long has it been since you last told them about a girl you were seeing?”

“A couple of years… a long time, actually,” he pursed his lips in thought. “I haven’t been in a relationship lasting this long in years… it almost feels new.”

“Really?” She smiled even wider.

“That makes you feel good, huh?”

“Well, obviously,” she shrugged proudly. “Your parents like me.”

“Your parents like me, too,” he giggled.

“Yeah!” She exclaimed, leaning down so she could rest her head on his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck once again.

“And you know my friends that I keep mentioning?”

She hummed.

“I want you to meet them, too.”

“Somehow, that’s more nerve-wracking than meeting your family.”

Sunghoon erupted into laughter, his arms wrapping around her torso. She could feel the rise and fall in his chest, his heart rate increasing by the second. “There’s no need for that,” he assured with a croon. “They’ll like you and you’ll like them.”

“But didn’t you say Riki didn’t really like me when you told him about me?”

“That was when I met you the first time,” he said. “To be fair, you were kind of bitchy-”

“Ok, fine, my bad,” she rolled her eyes. “But what if they don’t like me?”

“They’ll like you,” he repeated. “Especially Chiara.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. When I started telling her about you, she was swooning. I’m not joking. She was begging to meet you-”

“When was this?”

“Like a month ago,” he said. “She’s been asking about you for a while. She wants you to come for next week’s dinner.”

From the myriad of times Sunghoon had talked about Chiara and all his other friends, she learned that she was like the mother of the group. Her and Jake’s house was where everyone could stop by even without an invitation- everyone had a spare key to their apartment. Her pantry was always filled with snacks and drinks of all sorts and if anyone needed anything to be whipped up, she would oblige with no hesitation. She was the person that could accept anyone regardless of their needs or flaws, the one that knew how to make everyone around her safe. But regardless of knowing all that, Y/N was still insecure to meet her.

“But-”

“Y/N,” he pressed. “You’ll be fine. I’ll be sitting with you the whole time.”

She groaned, defeated and having no excuse to give him. “Fine,” she mumbled.

To be precise, Sunghoon took Y/N out on their first date precisely six months prior. In those five months, the pair spent a lot of energy learning how to communicate with one another. Y/N was the shy and quiet type, the kind of person that tended to use sarcasm as a defence mechanism instead of voicing her concerns and feelings. Sunghoon, though he was quite sarcastic himself, used the mechanism as his sole form of communication, completely ignoring the fact that he was capable of having feelings pertaining to benefiting himself.

It took more than a few attempts to learn how to be comfortable with one another. If it weren’t for her pestering him to tell him about his past failed relationships, he wouldn’t be freely speaking about his family now. If it wasn’t for him arguing with her about how he wanted her to be carefree around him with her guard down, she wouldn’t even be able to laugh around him. Forget laughter, she probably wouldn’t even know how to kiss him without feeling embarrassed of the effect he had on her. Learning how to openly communicate with one another turned into learning how to ask each other for advice and depend on each other emotionally instead of accepting their individual isolation.

When Sunghoon first started to open up about his past relationships, she wasn’t expecting to hear what she did. The more stories she heard, the more she understood where his cockiness and inferiority complex stemmed from. There was a point where she thought her new boyfriend had hooked up with the entire female population of New York City with the amount of relationships he’d mentioned. But the one thing she realised after every story of past relationships he told her was that all he wanted was to settle down the way his friends and most of the population did, to start a family and marry a girl he was proud to be loved by.

Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t feel even the slightest amount of luck.

Over the span of their relationship, Sunghoon couldn’t spend her twenty-seventh birthday with her. Her parents had bought her a train ticket back home and she spent her birthday with her parents, siblings and their spouses sitting around their average sized dinner table singing the overrated birthday song while she blew out the candles on a very small chocolate cake that only she ate at the end of the night. Sunghoon had called her later in the night to wish her when she was finally not surrounded by her family and it was the very same night that she had told her parents about him. Her sister-in-laws, brother-in-laws, all her siblings and her parents were bombarding her with questions and all she could tell them was that she was smitten by him with a toothy smile.

She couldn’t spend his twenty-eighth birthday with him either. He spent his birthday weekend at Jake and Chiara’s house- the house where all the parties, dinners and get-togethers were held- with the rest of his friends and all the kids were to stay the night with a very unlucky babysitter. He got drunk on beer, his favourite activity to indulge in, and was the model of most embarrassing pictures and videos. Jay, being the most sober out of everyone, was taking care of Sunghoon like his life depended on it while the rest of the party-attendees thrashed the house which left Jake and Chiara in a gruelling position to clean up the next morning.

That night, Sunghoon had called Y/N in a bout of slurs, his face too close to the phone camera which restricted her view on his face and the circus that was falling apart behind him. She could barely hear him through the excited screams of his friends and the loud music but she was able to hear fragments of what he was saying.

“I miss you so much, y/n,” he said. “I wish you were here… I always thought you looked so pretty, you know you’re really pretty, right?”

Y/N laughed at him through the entire call and offered suitable responses. “I miss you, too,” she said. “I think you look very handsome, ‘Hoon.”

However, it was during those two incidents that Y/N realised how much Sunghoon valued his friends, so much to the point that he considered them more his family than his actual family, and Sunghoon realised how close Y/N was to her family. A conversation wouldn’t end without him bringing up his friends and her day wouldn’t start without a text from anyone member of her family. It was then that they realised they couldn’t expect each other to continue their relationship without putting in the effort to meet each other’s families, their respective powerhouses for love and personality.

“WHY THE BEACH, THOUGH?” She asked with an open smile whilst being held in the air by Sunghoon. He held her up by her thighs, her bikini cover-up barely holding onto her frame as he spun her around. She wasn’t sure how he was able to hold his balance in loose sand, waves occasionally grazing his feet, but she was squealing in amusement, throat bubbling with laughter every time he craned his neck to kiss her. Her hair blew with the wind, ruining the effort she put into styling it that morning and his newly dyed black hair covered his forehead and enhanced the brown in his eyes.

“I don’t know,” he grinned. “I just wanted to see if you’d act like how your sisters described in that one story they told.”

Sunghoon let his arms slip around her waist now, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as their lips met again for probably the hundredth time that day. He wouldn't stop kissing her while she got dressed in front of her mirror, his hands exploring her stomach and lips exploring her neck. He wouldn’t stop kissing her on the car ride there, leaning towards her every time the road seemed empty or when they stopped at the red light. And he couldn’t stop kissing her when they reached the beach, hands refusing to leave her touch and holding her frame as close as he could and bruising her lips with his as often as he was allowed.

“Why so suddenly?” She asked before being pulled into another kiss, his lips devouring hers like he hadn’t kissed her in an eternity, like he wasn’t doing the same thing for the past three hours. “And what’s up with you and making out today?” She asked again, pulling away from his lips with a smack.

“Just in the mood,” he responded, chasing for another kiss through hooded eyes. She wasn’t sure which question of hers he answered to but she could only smile giddily, submitting into his lips yet again.

“Well, are you stressed or something?” She mumbled against his lips.

“Y/N,” he sighed, pulling away from her and letting her stand on her own two feet again. She blinked profusely, head tilting in confusion, toes wiggling into the familiar damp sand. “Just shut up and let me kiss you, alright?” And without letting her reply, he cupped her jaw with his hands and connected their lips again.

He was kissing her like she was his source of oxygen. He relished in the feeling of her jaw moving against his palms while she followed the movement of his lips, head tilting accordingly when he slid his tongue through the little opening in her mouth. Only he was in control at that moment and he was pecking her mouth, sucking on her bottom lip when she was gasping for air. But the moment of intimacy passed before she could register the butterflies in her stomach and he was lifting her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She erupted in laughter, legs flailing in the air as he ran into the water with a smile she could hear from a mile away.

He smiled so wide that his eyes were squinting to slits, throwing himself and her into the salty waves and emerging back up in a gasp for air. Y/N pushed her soaked hair away from her face, eyes as wide as saucers and mouth opened in shock while Sunghoon waited for a reaction- and a reaction he got. The next few minutes were filled with water being splashed in each others’ faces, their laughter louder than the group of kids visiting the beach for the first time. While she was failing on wrestling his, their fingers intertwined, he realised that this was what bliss felt like, to his girlfriend, his lover, happy and smiling and laughing like she was living the best moment in her life.

Over the next hour, Sunghoon sat beside Y/N in the sand while she built sandcastles like she was a kindergartener. Her hands built a mountain out of sand and taller towers beside the melting mountain. She would pout and whine and curse at him in laughter whenever he’d mess up her artwork and he would kiss her again, slow pecks that would eventually burn into her memory. Then he collected seashells with her which were eventually returned back to the sand and waters. When they found a dried starfish, coloured a bright magenta, she started ranting about the significance of starfish to the Aztec culture and he listened with open ears, nodding along to her words as if he would write an exam on the topic. In that hour, he could see the little girl that her sisters described her as in her, except she was wearing a bikini instead of a bucket hat and jean-shorts.

“I like seeing you like this,” he said, holding her hand in a moment of serenity, walking across the beach with their shoes clutched in their empty hands.

“Like what?” She asked, unable to put aside her smile.

“Happy.”

“You say that like you’ve never seen me happy before, ‘Hoon,” she chuckled and shook her head. “You brought me here because of the story my sisters told you, right?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “You had this juvenile happiness about you. I love when you’re like this.”

Y/N squeezed his hand and made him turn towards her. He had a look of satisfaction in his eyes, bangs covering his brows. His lips twitched into a miniscule smile, one that she almost missed if she didn’t squint enough. The wind blew his shirt against his skin, an icky dampness he ignored suddenly made aware. “Thank you,” she said, pursing her lips to hide a thankful smile. “I loved today.”

Sunghoon kissed her forehead and led her to his car. He didn’t want to admit to her that the reason for his increased physical affection, constantly kissing her and touching her, was truly because he was stressed. He was stressed about introducing her to his friends during dinner in a few hours- he could only imagine the amount of anxiety she was dealing with and hoped that a day at the beach would perhaps help her into a positive mood. It wasn’t that he was questioning their relationship or personality all of a sudden, no that wasn’t it. It was the fact that he knew her well enough that her awkwardness around new people often led them to perceive her with a negative first impression. She wasn’t great at starting conversation and in all honesty, Sunghoon was no good at helping people involve themselves into conversation. That was Rose’s speciality, not his. Sunghoon was rather the type to laugh at jokes and comment on whatever stupid statement his friends made. The more he thought about it, the more he realised he couldn’t rely on himself to help Y/N ease herself into whatever conversation would take place during.

When he panicked to Chiara about his nerves, she assured him that she would be there to help her feel welcomed. She reminded him that his friends weren’t the type of people to isolate someone new, especially if it was someone Sunghoon said was special to him. “Even I wasn’t this nervous when I introduced Chiara to you guys,” Jake had said to him. “It’ll be fine. You know that.” So, he played out the scenarios in his head on how dinner would go; he imagined Jay bonding with Y/N over his random knowledge in history and he imagined Y/N sipping on wine with Chiara, Karina and Jade at the end of the night. He imagined Jake and Heeseung telling her about all his embarrassing stories and her laughing at them with no filter and he imagined her playing with all the kids- his nieces and nephews.

In his head, it was the perfect dinner, exactly the way he’d want his lover to fit into his found-family and as he looked at Y/N covering herself with a towel and drying her hair with her fingers raking her scalp, he knew that everything would go just the way he imagined.

“There’s a motel nearby, we can freshen up there,” he offered softly, stretching his arms to grab ahold of her hips and pull her closer towards him.

“What’ve you got planned for the day, hmm?” She teased. “I haven’t seen you this enthusiastic since you took me ice skating.”

He grinned, softly pecking her lips and digging his nails deeper into her hips. She chewed the inside of her cheek, smirking and nodding in understanding. Her fists rested on his chest, knees on the verge of buckling from his gaze alone. “After that, I thought maybe we could go to a bookstore or a movie. Anything you want, really.”

“That sounds really good,” she hummed. Her eyes hooded, scanning his face from his eyes, the mole on his nose and to his lips. “I think I prefer your natural hair better, by the way,” she smiled as she kissed him and he teased her with a hum, fingers drumming on her lower back.

The time leading up to dinner felt like floating through a dream. He remembered showering with her and helping her pick out a pretty dress to wear while she styled her hair in the shabby bathroom of the motel. He also remembered spending way too many hours in the nearest bookstore where he felt like a ghost following her around with shallow eyes. While she carried around a pile of non-fiction books and archives, softly explaining to him a snippet of history but nothing was registering in his head. He just remembered standing behind her with wide eyes and pursed lips, almost resembling a robot, imagining everything that could possibly go wrong at dinner; at dinner at his best friend’s house with the rest of the people he grew up around; at dinner with the people he called his family that saw him bring multiple other women to similar dinners.

He was just overthinking, right?

Yeah, he was. While driving, it was usually Sunghoon that had his free hand on her thigh but the roles were switched this time when Y/N saw his hands trembling. He looked like a lost puppy with those terrified eyes locked on the road in front of him.

“Sunghoon?” She called. “Park Sunghoon?”

He was so stressed, Sunghoon could feel the nerves in his jaw firing up before he opened his mouth to say, “yeah?”

“What’s on your mind?”

“What do you mean?” There was a laugh that escaped from his throat, hoarse and forced that almost made her flinch. “I’m fine,” his voice even went a few pitches higher.

“Honey, you’re not fine,” she insisted and moved to hold his hand that gripped the gear like his life depended on it. “It's dinner, isn’t it?”

The hesitation he showed before nodding his head was enough of an answer for her.

“Why’s it bothering you?”

He sucked in a breath and cautiously glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. “Well, you see,” he started. “They’re my friends.”

“I… know that,” she blinked profusely, confused.

“And they’ve seen me with tons of other girls,” he tried clarifying.

“How about you tell me something you don’t know,” she suggested, giving up on understanding his worries.

The first time Y/N saw him so stressed and nervous was when he was meeting her sisters. This would be the second time. He was trembling at the thought of his two worlds meeting, terrified that perhaps, like Riki had said, this relationship could end up like all others. But he was never scared to introduce his past girlfriends to them, never questioning whether it would end badly. What made Y/N different? Or has it just been a long time?

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I don’t know why I’m stressed. I think I’m just paranoid.”

“You and me both,” she gave his hand a few pats and pursed her lips to the side. “I’m meeting the people you call family which is a pretty big deal and from what you’ve told me, they’re all some sort of rich and famous. I mean, models, photographers, producers, writers, businessmen, dancers… It's intimidating.”

“We’re kind of all impressive aren’t we?” For the first time in hours, he cracked a smile; a smirk that made her chuckle. She nudged his arm and he chuckled with her, most of their worries draining away in that moment of glee.

“You’re feeling better, aren’t you?”

He nodded enthusiastically.

When Sunghoon parked the car in the parking lot of Jake and Chiara’s apartment, Y/N stayed stuck to the seat for exactly ten seconds. She was convinced that time had frozen for her to collect her thoughts and catch her breath. The nerves that left Sunghoon had somehow manifested in her. Suddenly, the clothes she wore felt too either too fancy or too simple and she was convinced her hair was a mess. Then, she realised she had forgotten how to conversate with new people, let alone a group of eleven adults and four children who barely had the ability to speak.

Perhaps she was too awkward for this. It’s not too late to bail, she thought.

Sunghoon had to shake her shoulders to snap her back to reality- the reality in which she wasn’t in her apartment eating cereal with her dog on the couch- and guided her to the elevator with his hand on the small of her back. She was the one acting like a robot now, her body a machine programmed to walk step by step, her eyes unmoving from whatever object was in front of her as though it would relieve the anxiousness that made her heart beat like it was about to jump out of her chest. She could hear her blood thumping against her ears, almost deafening her from Sunghoon’s voice calling out for her.

They were now standing in front of Jake and Chiara’s front door with a dozen pairs of shoes beside them.

They were all there.

“You ready?” He asked, lips curling into a hopeful smile. Her eyes followed the bead of sweat that rolled down the side of his face.

She shook her head. “We’re both scared,” she stated. “I will literally let you do whatever you want the next time we have sex if we bail from dinner.”

Sunghoon laughed at her statement, his hand reaching for her shoulder as he threw his head back. She looked at him as though she took her statement seriously and he shook his head. “Y/N,” he chuckled. “You’ll be fine. Being nervous is natural in such situations. It’ll really be fine.”

“You sound like you’re convincing yourself.”

Chuckling again, he shook his head and moved to hold her waist. “You know what’ll make both of us feel better?” He said and nodded his chin. Smiling, he kissed her like he kissed her on the beach, the dull lights that lit the apartment flickering above them as he pulled her closer. Y/N visibly loosened in his arms, the tense in her shoulders disappearing as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She focused on the fact that he was wearing her favourite shirt, a dark brown button down with black trousers- it was the outfit he wore on their first date, except his hair was dark now.

Then, she felt a little more confident.

He rang the doorbell after a few more brief pecks to her lips and moments later, Chiara opened the door. Y/N didn’t need for Sunghoon to introduce her- though he did anyway- because he had spent an hour showing her pictures of everyone so she could learn their names or she already knew them because they were famous.

The next few moments passed like a phantasm. Chiara was hugging her and dragging her through her richly furnished and exquisitely designed apartment and into the kitchen, where the dining table where ten other adults and four kids sat. Sunghoon followed them with slow footsteps, hands in his pockets as he watched his friends holler at the sight of Y/N and her awkwardly wave back with a messily stretched smile. When he saw Chiara pushing her towards Jake and Jay who were waving her towards them, Heeseung and Karina offering her drinks and Sunoo complimenting her outfit, he questioned why he wasted so much energy in worrying because the sight in front of him was perfect, like watching the happy ending of a cliché family movie.

“Why’s everyone so excited?” Sunghoon grinned while sauntering towards them. “All because of my girl, ay?” He could see Y/N blushing and Chiara teasing her by wrapping her arms around her shoulders.

“Sunghoon!” Jake yelled, lifting his glass of wine towards him. “How about you stop getting cocky and sit your ass down, ay?” Everyone laughed, offering their greetings to him.

“Behave tonight, don’t be the little shit you always are,” Heeseung pulled at Riki’s ear and he complained of being treated like a kid.

Y/N eventually ended up sitting between Sunghoon and Chiara- who had Kai with her- because at that point, they were the only people she felt remotely comfortable around. Chiara, though it was her first time meeting her, was already indulging her in pleasant conversation, pointing at each person on the table and giving her a brief description of their personality, oblivious to the fact that it was all known information already.

“Sunoo and Sheila are engaged,” Chiara said.

“Oh, yeah, when’s the wed-”

“Don’t ask them about it… they haven’t decided yet,” she slowly shook her head the way scared characters from horror movies did. “Jungwon and Eva are engaged, too.”

“Oh, the wedding’s probably in a month or two, by the way,” Jungwon lifted his head at the mention of his wedding and Heeseung dabbed him up with pride.

It felt like she was pulled into a whirlwind with the amount of conversations happening around her. Sunghoon and Chiara were keeping her company while Jade would chime in from time to time. Jungwon’s girlfriend, Eva, would start a conversation with her by offering her food and Riki had somehow wiggled his way into the conversation and offered brief phrases of acknowledgement as contribution. Then, Jay had called for her from the end of the table and started asking about her profession, claiming that he himself had an inclination towards history. For a little while, she had told him the brief of what she knew about Chinese history and offered to lend him some of her books pertaining to his interests.

Heeseung pointed to his daughters that sat between him and his wife, introducing them to Y/N as Luna and Sol and she recognised their names originating from Roman mythology. Karina encouraged her to elaborate and she went on a tangent about the stories behind the twins’ beautiful names. Eventually, the pair went on to tell her how they met, describing a romantic story between a music producer and a singer.

“Chiara, tell her how you and Jake met,” Heeseung nodded.

“Are we all gonna go around the table telling her our love stories?”

“Sounds about right,” Sunghoon clapped.

The story of Chiara and Jake was something out of a Netflix rom-com. She had heard it briefly from Sunghoon before and saw quite a few clips of them speaking about it on the internet, but to have them sitting with her on the dinner table, narrating their past with intricate detail, was something she didn’t know she needed. Watching the love between them thriving after so many years was what brought Sunghoon hope for his own love, the way they smiled at each other still seemed to bring some sort of warmth in everyone’s hearts.

Their love story was what made way for Sunoo and Sheila, who was Chiara’s best friend. They had met on a dinner similar to such, back when they were all mostly single and were still struggling to graduate or make a successful career. They claimed it was love at first sight, that Sheila had fallen in love with Sunoo’s smile and that he had fallen in love with the twinkle in her eyes. They started dating not long after they met, their personalities matching to the tea.

Though Jay and Jade started dating around the same time as Heeseung and Karina, they married much later. They were childhood friends and in fact, he was in the hospital the day she was born. They watched each other grow up because their families were close but the pair only became friends around the time Jay started taking over his father’s travel company. What started as a no-strings-attached relationship blossomed into family. However, Riki made fun of them and said they only got married because he knocked her up, to which Jay closed Evelyn’s ears with his hands and cursed at his youngest friend to never say such things around his daughter.

“What did I say about not acting like a little shit?” Heeseung warned with a finger pointing at the youngest amongst them.

Finally came Jungwon and Eva’s love story with Riki being a major reason for their engagement. The two didn’t even get along at first, always bickering when they were around each other and shooting each other death glares until Riki finally put them in a room together and forced them to put their differences aside. Turns out, they not only put their differences aside but also their clothes and now the three lived together and Riki was helping them plan their wedding. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the best man, but Jay was, because a few years prior, everyone had drawn chits to decide who would be the best man at whose wedding and Riki drew Sunghoon’s name. It was very unfortunate.

“Why didn’t you bring your girl, Riki?” Sunghoon asked.

“Oh, no,” the boy shook his head, moving his stare to the condiments left on his plate. “I broke up with her a week ago.”

There was no silence that followed his statement but a groan from Heeseung who slumped in his seat. “You owe me fifty bucks!” Jay yelled from across him. “I told you this would happen.”

Riki rolled his eyes and turned to Y/N with an unamused stare. “Don’t be alarmed, they do this a lot.”

“He’s known as the heartbreaker amongst us,” Jake firmly clapped Riki’s shoulder twice and turned to make fun of Heeseung.

“How about Y/N tells us how she felt when she first met Sunghoon, huh?” Heeseung attempted to shift the conversation and everyone was turning towards her, including her boyfriend, with grins and smirks she couldn’t escape from.

The night continued with such conversations.

Sunoo and Sheila left early like they always did and it was around that time that all the kids went to sleep and the hard liquor started coming out of the closets to be consumed. Chiara, Jungwon and Jade joined the kids to sleep as they weren’t huge fans of alcohol and everyone else had cleared the dinner table and filled it with cans of beer, bottles of vodka and glasses of whiskey, along with peanuts and kimchi. The golden lights that set the homely aura around the apartment were dimmed to blue lights, much like the lights that Sunghoon used to bring up everytime he talked about the many exclusive parties of New York he had attended.

Jake and Chiara’s apartment was one to ogle over. Their furniture came from the expensive catalogues Y/N had stashed in her drawers and their balconies reminded her of the ones she saw on romantic European contemporary films. They had books unlike the ones she had at home, the kind that literature geeks would drool over- they were Chiara’s collection, she supposed. They had rarely decorated hardcover copies of all the classics and a few crime novels scattered here and there. Y/N observed the pictures that hung around their television while sipping on wine on the couch while everyone else opted to chug beer.

“Y/N, come join us!” Jake bellowed from the kitchen with a can of beer raised in the hair. Karina followed his lead and raised a bottle of vodka.

Before she could answer, Sunghoon had answered for her and told them that she wasn’t much of a drinker. The crowd whined in defeat but soon went back to whatever they were doing- she wasn’t sure where the awful lot of loud sound was coming from but they were definitely yelling and hollering at each other.

She could hear something about daring Sunghoon to stay sober the whole night but that would be like expecting pharaohs to never leave curses before passing away.

The sane and sober minds that Y/N was so intimidated by just a few hours ago were either talking and stumbling across the apartment in incoherent babbles or were taking care of the people who were incoherently babbling. Y/N was laughing at whatever mumble that was sent her way and even entertained Jade who sat beside her and started complaining about her colleagues whose lives were boring because of the word load her father pushed on them. Jay eventually dragged her away and apologised to Y/N, telling her to enjoy the rest of the night and no not mind everyone else.

“We’re making a terrible first impression but we aren’t usually like this.”

Her wine bottle eventually became empty and she simply sat there on the couch, watching her boyfriend hang off Heeseung’s arm who was equally as drunk. Riki had pulled himself away from the group, throwing his empty can of beer in the trash before making his way to Y/N. He almost looked shy, tense shoulders pulling together the closer he got to her and he ended up standing in front of her, his gaze spaced out and lips opening and closing to contemplate what exactly he wanted to say. Y/N was only a little woozy from the wine and she cleared her throat as it got awkward with the silence between them.

“Do you smoke?” The boy eventually asked, pulling out a box of cigarettes from the pocket of his jeans.

“I do, actually,” she smiled softly, attempting to ease the boy’s nerves.

The pair moved to the balcony, arms leaning against the railings as freshly lit cigarettes hung from their lips, index and middle finger holding it in place. It was a habit Riki was embarrassed about after developing late into high school. The group of friends he made in school after moving to New York City could be labelled as the wrong crowd and of all the narcotics and alcohol he tried, cigarettes were the only thing that stuck. It wasn’t an addiction but if he didn’t smoke for a prolonged amount of time, he would face miniscule symptoms of withdrawal. Chiara, being their resident psychologist, had warned him of the physical and mental repercussions he could face and for some time, his friends had even forced him to use nicotine patches. Over time, he learned how to control his smoking. He was just grateful he didn’t end up a crack-addict like his cousin back in Osaka.

Y/N however, didn’t have much of a care of the stigma that surrounded tobacco and cigarettes. I, too, had started in high school when her best friend at the time introduced her to the cylindrical contraption. The practice would follow her into her adulthood and here she was, on a balcony with one of her boyfriend’s best friends. She didn’t smoke that often, just in social settings, much like this one.

“Sunghoon knows you smoke, right?” He perked up, turning his gaze towards her.

“Yeah, of course,” she grinned, shrugging her shoulders. “Why?”

“He has this thing against smoking,” Riki shook his head. “Everyone’s against it, but he loses it when someone smokes around him.”

“Yeah, I know,” Y/N mused. “On our third date or something, I told him I wanted to go out for a smoke and he freaked. Never brought it up around him again.”

When Riki laughed, Y/N felt a wave of validation. This was Nishimura Riki she was smoking with, the boy that disapproved of her being with Sunghoon not a few months ago. Despite the fact that everyone past the glass screen separating the balcony from the living room had given her their thumbs of approval, already making her feel a part of their group by offering her drinks, Riki standing there and laughing at her jokes was the biggest form of approval she could ask for. For the first time all night, she felt all relief from the stress she had harboured in her chest.

“When he found out I started smoking, he didn’t talk to me for three days straight,” Riki added. “I was like seventeen at the time, it came as quite a shock to everyone,” he shrugged.

“I was seventeen, too,” she mused. “I’m, like, twenty-seven now and my parents still don’t know.”

“If my parents found out, they would kill me,” he rolled his eyes. “You know, Jay still threatens to tell my parents about it if I annoy them?”

“They still treat you like a child, huh?”

“The price I have to pay for being the youngest.” “Yeah, I’m the youngest one out of all my siblings and they still think I’m in middle school.”

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Seven.”

Riki gave her a look of surprise, his jaw dropping for his mouth and his fist reaching towards his mouth for him to bite. Y/N nodded knowingly, silently telling him that she knew the pain. The pair ashed their cigarettes off the balcony and revelled in the number of similarities they had.

Before either of them could start a new conversation or continue the previous, the glass doors to the balcony had slid open and Sunghoon stumbled open with probably his twelfth can of beer wrapped in his palm. His cheeks were a soft shade of pink and his eyes disappeared behind his eyelids due to the genial smile on his face. His arms stretched widely as he came closer to approaching them and eventually collapsed on their shoulders.

If there was anything Y/N knew about her boyfriend, it was that he loved being drunk. It was the first thing that would be listed if anyone was to ever write his biography. Sunghoon had a habit of denying this habit of his but there came a point of acceptance when literally everyone around him started pointing it out. During dinner, she was lucky to be serenaded with his most embarrassing drunk-anecdotes, as Chiara liked to call it. Her favourite was the one where he woke up beside Heeseung in a hotel all the way on the other side of town with a basket of brownies placed between them and a note that read thank you for being amazing people. To this day, nobody knew what happened- it was the biggest mystery amongst their friend group. They ended up eating all the brownies and spared none for the others.

“What are you two talking about?” Sunghoon giggled as he looked between Riki and Y/N. “You better not be nice to her, Riki. She’s technically your Noona.”

Riki snatched the can of beer away from Sunghoon and contorted his face into a look of disinterest. “Y/N and I are almost the same age,” he argued.

“You still call Jungwon Hyung, right?” Sunghoon let go of Y/N and moved to wrap his arms around Riki. Struggling, the boy brought the can of beer to his lips.

“Yeah, so?”

“Y/N is your Noona,” he jabbed a finger into his chest with a wide grin. “She may even be your Hyung-su soon.”

Riki let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head and pushing Sunghoon off of his back. The boy then smirked at Y/N, chugging down the rest of the beer left in the can. “Calm down, big boy,” Riki slapped his back and he moved to wrap his arms around Y/N. “I’m gonna go.”

While the boy slid the glass door of the balcony close, Y/N hung her hand on the arm that wrapped around her shoulders. “What does all that mean?” She smiled, oblivious. “Nothing,” Sunghoon giggled, kissing her forehead. “You’ve seen me drunk so many times,” he pointed out.

“It’s kind of your favourite hobby, ‘Hoon,” she pointed out.

“But I’ve never seen you drunk.”

SUNGHOON WOULD SEE Y/N drunk exactly one and a half months later at Jungwon and Eva’s wedding reception.

The events leading up to the reception were all smooth- there was the plane ride to the avenue, the part where the bride and groom were getting ready and then the meticulously planned wedding ceremony. It was all beautiful and heartwarming and Jay’s toast was tear-jerking. However, Sunghoon saw no need in replaying those events in his head when his girlfriend was drunk and hanging off his arm.

It was the most comical sight he’d ever witnessed.

You see, of all the morals and rules of self-control Sunghoon had waived upon himself over the years, not drinking during weddings was one of them and he held himself proud to the condition. Everyone, including Chiara, who was famed for her distaste towards liquor, was drinking that day and it would explain the mess that the banquet halls ended up in shambles. The flower bouquets were crumpled to pulp, the pristine white curtains around them torn to shreds and the delicious wedding cake looked like it was devoured by a wolf.

In the midst of it all, Y/N had downed four too many glasses and champagne and she was bubblier than a school girl. At first, Sunghoon simply thought that she was giddy from catching the bouquet Eva had thrown over her head but boy did he have a hard time bringing her back to their hotel room. In many ways, she and him were the same type of drunk. Granted, Sunghoon had a habit of crying if he ever was sad before drinking, but apart from that, they were pretty much the same. Both of them stumbled on their feet while trying to walk in a straight line, both giggled like they were being tickled and both spewed absolute nonsense while drunk. It was like looking at himself in a mirror- except she was a girl, his girlfriend to be precise.

“You’re really pretty,” Y/N giggled at him, her index finger gliding down the side of cheek as though she was flirting with him.

Flattered, Sunghoon offered her a toothy grin and wrapped his arm tighter around her waist. Her arm hung around his shoulders, her heels clutched by her free hand. “Thank you, Jagi,” he said. “But we really need to get you back to the room. You need a change of clothes and some sleep.”

“But I don’t want to sleep,” she pouted, her brows pulling together and bottom lip jutting out. The sight made him want to laugh- if she were sober, she would shoot herself before making such a face voluntarily.

“But you have to,” Sunghoon’s grin widened as he eventually got to the door of their room.

He was carrying her at that point, one arm under her head and the other under her knees. Her arms secured around his neck, her heels poking his ear. While she brightly smiled at him, he laid her on the bed.

“Don’t move, I’ll get changed and be right there with you.”

“No, don’t change! You look so hot in a suit,” she whined and caught his tie in her hand. She tugged him towards her and chased him for a kiss.

Though he enjoyed the action, he found himself pushing her back onto the pillow. He brushed away the hair that framed her face and cupped her cheek “Jagi,” he crooned. “You’re really drunk and you need some rest.”

“No, I need you,” she continued to whine, pointing her finger at him. “Just stay with me.”

“I am with you,” he smiled at her.

He finally understood what it felt like to be Jay when he was taking care of him.

“Good,” she said and pulled him in for another kiss.

He surrendered, letting her drag him on top of her until the span of his chest lay against hers. His legs lounged on the bed, his leather shoes kicked into one of the corners of the room. His hand cupped the side of her face and she gripped his collor until she couldn’t physically hold him closer anymore- but the moment was as fleeting as most were and her lips parted from his with an epiphany.

“Where’s the bouquet I caught?” She asked in a frenzy, looking around the room.

“Jagi, it’ll be somewhere downstairs, don’t worry,” he reached for her hand and propped himself on his elbows. His eyes followed her every move but he was quick to keep her beside him, refusing to let her leave the bed. “You need sleep, Y/N.”

“Can we go get it?”

Sunghoon chuckled. “You didn’t even want to catch the bouquet, it literally hit you in the head,” he argued. “If you want, I’ll buy a hundred more bouquets later.”

Y/N blinked at him, her eyes glazing over from her lack of sleep. “But I caught it,” she mumbled.

“I know, Jagi, and I’m very glad you did.”

“Doesn’t it mean we might get married or something?” If she could hear herself while sober, Y/N would probably slap herself. With that thought in mind, Sunghoon shut her up from speaking anymore words with another kiss on her lips. “Can you please sleep for me, Jagi?” He hummed. “Please?”

“Why do you keep calling me Jagi?” She asked while he cupped her head, leading her to lay on the pillow again. The span of her hand stayed on his chest, keeping him in place.

“It just means I love you very much, Jagi,” he smiled and she smiled back, fluttering her eyes shut.

“Ok,” she nodded her cheek against the pillow. “I like it.”

“I know,” he said. “Why didn’t you come into my life sooner, Jagi? Where have you been?”

“What?” She asked, voice barely above a whisper as she drifted into slumber.

“Just sleep.”

[acosmicbee]

Stable Hand

Aside from watching Horseland close to 10 years ago and briefly taking riding lessons at my local stable, I was/am not a horse girl so hopefully this is accurate enough

Your position in the castle was very clear, make sure the horses were well kept and stay out of the way. That had been your job since you were old enough to learn how to handle the horses. You lived most of the year in part of the hayloft above the barn, only moving into the stable master's home during the winter.

Mister Riley was the stable master, and had served the royal family for a long time, but he was getting old. That was why you had taken over most of the heavy lifting when it came to stable maintenance. However, never before had you directly taken care of any of the royals' horses.

While they had a stableful of mares and stallions, each royal had their preferred horses that Mister Riley directly took care of. However this morning his cough had gotten worse so you'd promised to take care of everything for him as long as he went to the doctors. 

You'd spent all morning grooming the horses and were in the middle of polishing the crown prince's saddle when he walked in. He looked around as if expecting Mister Riley and seemed confused when he only saw you.

"A child? What are you doing with my saddle?! Where is the stable master?!" He demanded. 

"Greetings to the crown prince. Mister Riley isn't feeling well so I'm taking over his duties today." You explained. "Shall I get your horse ready for you, your highness?"

The prince nodded and you ran to get the bridle and reins. His horse was a little arrogant and spoiled but let you tack it up relatively easily. The prince gave you a once over and a sneer before elegantly climbing atop his horse and riding off into the fields.

It was a bit rude but you weren't expecting much else from a royal. You returned to your duties without giving it much more thought, hoping Mister Riley was okay.

˚˖°.𓃗⊹ ࣪ ˖

According to the doctor, Mister Riley wasn't well enough to work for the next week, which meant you saw a lot more of the crown prince than you wanted to. He would stop by at the same time every day, early afternoon. Each day he would bring a treat for his horse before either leaving or going riding. Each day he kept giving you an extreme side eye that made it uncomfortable to work.

One day while you were mucking out a stall while he watched, he finally talked to you.

"How old are you?" You had just finished replacing the old hay when he sprung the question on you.

"Excuse me?" You asked, wiping your forehead with your sleeve. The stables were hot, but you were used to it.

"I asked how old you are. You seem too young to be employed anywhere." The prince's voice was harsh and very judgemental. You leaned your rake against the stall.

"I'm nine, almost ten, your highness." You answered.

"You're barely younger than Ash! You can't seriously enjoy this." You were a little taken aback at being compared to the youngest prince but kept your composure as he gestured around at the stables and then at you. Sure, your outfit was a little dirty and you had some stray pieces of straw in your hair but you didn't see any problem. It was normal for you.

"I find it plenty enjoyable, your highness. I really like animals and I enjoy being around them all day." The prince didn't seem to believe you, but at least he stopped side eyeing you. You sighed with relief when he left, finally able to finish the rest of your chores in relative peace and quiet.

˚˖°.𓃗⊹ ࣪ ˖

"You always do an amazing job, Y/N. Soon you'll be better at this then I am." Mister Riley said. He was sitting in a chair, watching you work. Even though he claimed to feel better, he was too pale for your liking so you made him sit to the side. 

"I could never, Mister Riley! You taught me everything after all." You answered, brushing out one of the horses' coat. It was starting to get a little cooler as summer came to a close. 

"Are you sure about that? I received a message this morning from the crown prince." You perked up, wondering what the crown prince would reach out to Mister Riley for regarding you. "He said that he wants you to continue taking care of his horse and his riding gear for the foreseeable future." 

As you returned to brushing the horse your mind began to wander. What would make the crown prince so insistent that you work on his horse instead of Mister Riley? He was the more experienced one out of the two of you and had been working with the prince's horse for longer.

You frowned as a feeling in your gut told you that things would only go downhill from here.

˚˖°.𓃗⊹ ࣪ ˖

Since you'd been tasked with caring for the crown prince's horse, you'd started to see him around a lot more. A lot of times he would just sit to the side and watch you work, which had slowly become less unsettling.

He wasn't hostile or rude to you anymore, even if it took him a while to actually warm up. You, begrudgingly, started to find some comfort in his company, even if you'd never admit it. The last thing you needed was for the king and queen to find out the prince was getting distracted from his duties by a stable hand. While the prince might have grown to like you at least a little bit, the king and queen were infamously short tempered.

Something you realized your princess had inherited after she broke the peaceful silence one day.

It had started out a normal day. You had done your chores before starting to personally care for the prince's horse. You were midway through brushing the fine stallion when the prince had shown up with two apples. He placed one of them on the small table you only kept clean for him. The other he bit into as he sat down and watched you work.

The two of you began to talk a little, joking and telling stories. It was almost something you waited for now that Master Riley was unable to come with you to the stable most days. It made you feel less alone.

You'd just finished brushing the horse and the prince had just finished his apple. You were about to go get the bucket of feed when the stable doors slammed open. You dropped the brush, startled at the amount of force used. You could hear some of the horses getting spooked and bucking in their stalls. 

"Gaston! You useless cowardly brute!" You peeked around the corner of the stall in time to watch the princess stride up to the crown prince, fuming. She was holding something in one of her hands that she thrust into his face.

"I know it was you! You broke it and then you came out here to hide!" She hissed. The crown prince seemed apathetic and uninterested until she smacked his spare apple off the table. It hit the wall with a dull thud and instantly his calm demeanor melted away into one of anger.

"I didn't break your stupid hairpin." He spat, glaring down at her. "But you can bet that I will break every single stupid hairpin of yours-!"

"Hairpin?" Suddenly all eyes were on you and you felt yourself blanch.

"Who is that?!" The princess demanded. The prince rolled his eyes but gestured you out of your hiding place.

"This is Y/N. The stable hand." The prince introduced. You bowed in greeting to the princess who brushed you off with an eye roll. Now that you were closer you could see the issue the princess was talking about. A pretty fabric flower that looked to be originally attached with golden thread had fallen off the cloth body of the hairpin, the stitches had likely come loose.

"I could fix it, your highness." You said, gesturing to the hairpin. The princess opened her mouth but the crown prince snatched the hairpin before she could say anything, thrusting it into your hands.

"You have five minutes." The princess eventually said. Her voice was cold and you ran off into the side room to fetch a needle and some thread.

˚˖°.𓃗⊹ ࣪ ˖

A very stressful five minutes later and you emerged from the backroom holding out the repaired hairpin. The princess looked it over before accepting it with a huff.

"What is a child doing as a stable hand anyway?" She eventually bit out. Your face scrunched up in annoyance as you finally grabbed the bucket of feed for the prince's stallion and returned to your duties. Why did everyone have to ask that? Nine was a perfectly reasonable age!

"They help to assist the stable master." The prince answered, heading for the stable doors. The princess followed behind him and you could hear the two bickering until they were out of sight. You shared a look of exasperation with the prince's stallion before you continued feeding the rest of the horses.

What a weird day...

˚˖°.𓃗⊹ ࣪ ˖

Summer had gone and now that fall was slipping away, it was starting to get colder. This was probably your least favorite part of the job. Many years ago, before you ever started caring for the horses, one of the Queen's favorite mares had passed away from delivering a foal at night. All of the stable hands at the time had been sleeping in their assigned servant's quarters in the palace.

Every single stable hand had been executed and ever since then it was mandatory for a person to be in the stable at all times. Because of that, your normal bedroom was in the small hayloft above the main stable.

Typically, Mister Riley was the one who would sleep in the stables in the winter, but this year you refused to let him. His cough had been getting worse and there were some days he couldn't even get out of bed. So for once, you never left your bed in the hayloft. It wasn't the warmest place, even if Mister Riley gave you a plethora of blankets before he let you sleep there.

On top of that, you had to make sure the fireplace in the main stable didn't run out of firewood throughout the night. Both things meant that you had become very sleep deprived as the winter went on. It wouldn't have been as big of a deal if you didn't have to spare energy doing extra things like holding conversations. Unfortunately, even the cold weather didn't scare off your new regulars.

Now you were busy juggling the crown prince and princess as well as more duties than ever. On top of that, the youngest prince, Ash, had won a brand new stallion at a horse race that needed to be trained.

You found yourself rushing around a lot. You barely had time to sit down and eat lunch or breakfast. Most of the time you were too tired for dinner and would just collapse into bed. You ended up living off the pieces of fruit or leftover lunch the royals would 'subtly' leave for you.

You'd fall into bed every evening only to force yourself awake a couple of hours later to run outside to lug in more firewood. The exhaustion was mounting and mounting by the day.

Then, everything had gone wrong during the first snow of the season.

You were shivering as you worked, despite the heat of the fireplace on your back. You brushed the horse in front of you, spacing out until the stable door opened and closed. You shook your head, dropping the brush and rubbing your arms.

"Stable hand!" It was the princess. She usually only visited you around late morning, before the crown prince came. Was it that late already?

You peeked out of the stall, stumbling over to where she stood by the stable doors. She was wearing a fur lined shawl that looked really warm. You yawned, your mind drifting. Maybe you should buy a shawl... a nice warm one... Hm warm...

"You don't look good." She said, removing a stylish glove to lay her hand against her forehead. Her palm felt like ice and made you flinch back for a second before leaning into it. Her cool fingers dulled a nagging pain that reverberated through your skull. You could hardly hear her gasp as black spots filled your vision.

Maybe... maybe a quick nap would be alright...

˚˖°.𓃗⊹ ࣪ ˖

"They aren't going to die if you look away." A voice said from the doorway. Gaston, the normally arrogant and prideful crown prince, looked up from your bedside. He had resigned himself to sitting beside you until you woke again.

Your bout of sickness and sudden fainting had scared his sister, Adela, into a foul mood. She was probably off somewhere, torturing her handmaids or guards. He had to be there for you, you had no one else. He had to be a good big brother to you.

Standing in the doorway, holding a few books, was the youngest prince. Prince Ash, who was only a bit older than you, stared down his older brother. He sighed, entering the room, eyeing your sleeping form warily.

"Why are you so hung up over a commoner anyway?" He murmured, setting his books down on your bedside. Before Gaston could answer he interrupted. "Go. Eat something and take a bath. You stink. I'll take up your post."

The two had a silent stare down between each other which Gaston lost. He practically darted from the room, probably hoping to return quickly. It seemed rather silly to Ash, to be so concerned over someone who wasn't even related to you. Maybe you had cast a spell over his older siblings.

At least it made things more interesting...

˚˖°.𓃗⊹ ࣪ ˖

Ash could hear you murmuring before your eyes opened. You were still with fever, despite the cool towel resting on your forehead. You murmured a little to yourself, none of it making much sense.

"Don't try and get up." He ordered when he saw you moving. It seemed you'd finally registered his presence there, staring at him with wide, hazy eyes.

"Who... are you?" You slowly asked. Your voice was a little rough and nasally sounding from your sickness. Ash found himself thinking that it was probably a soothing and soft voice when you were well. Looking into your eyes, so open and trusting, he could see what his siblings had fallen in love with about you.

"I am your big brother, Ash." He answered, setting aside his book. He reached for the towel on your forehead, rewetting it in the cool basin of water nearby before replacing it. 

If you hadn't been so sick, if your mind hadn't been so fuzzy, you would've questioned it. Instead you just felt a rush of happiness that someone cared enough about you to take care of you. You started to drift off again, feeling safe and warm.

"Thank you... big brother."

Ash grinned, gently taking your hand. A new baby sibling would definitely make things more interesting. The only remaining hurdle was his parents, the ruthless king and queen. But even the mighty could fall far when faced with something so... lovely.

˚˖°.𓃗⊹ ࣪ ˖

Queen Adrianna and King Fergus were known to be strict rulers. Those who broke the laws were evaluated and then punished. There was no such thing as 'mercy' to them. That was how it always had been.

To their children, Gaston, Adela and Ash, they had always shown a softer side. They tried their best to make up for their unavailability through special one-on-one time and hand picked gifts. Despite their busy schedules, they still knew all of their children very well. That's why it was so easy to pick up on a sudden shift in behavior in all three children.

Their carefree, bickering children had gone quiet. They were more jumpy now and on the edge of their seats. They would disappear for hours on end and each time they returned they would whisper to one another. Gaston was always quiet. Adela was always angry. Ash was always smirking. 

Eventually, they both decided that they needed to see what was going on. Hopefully, whatever their children were hiding, because of course they knew they were hiding something, was safe. 

˚˖°.𓃗⊹ ࣪ ˖

His children were a lot less stealthy then they thought they were, King Fergus decided. He'd narrowed down where they'd been running away to, a guest room in the west wing. The west wing was hardly ever used during the winter as it was purely for guest suites. 

Currently, all three of them were with their mother for a mandatory lunch together. She was tasked with distracting them for at least 15 minutes so he could see exactly what was up. 

It was behind an unassuming door that he discovered you. A child, eyes hazy with fever, laying delicately among the fine sheets. It was clear you were someone precious to his children, though he had no idea who you were. 

Your eyes seemed to accept him as just another part of the room. It wasn't until he removed the cooling cloth from your forehead did you realize it wasn't some hallucination from a fever dream. He placed a gentle hand on your forehead, frowning as he felt how high your fever was.

While he loved his children, they weren't always the smartest. If they had just told him he could've called a physician for you. Who knows how long you'd been sick for already?

You let out a groan when he picked you up. He could tell you were shivering under the too big clothes you were wearing. In fact, he recognized them as an old pair of nightclothes Ash had outgrown.

While the guest suites had nice beds, they were made for the summer in particular. There was only a small fireplace and no heavy blankets.

Fergus had to admit that when you gently gripped onto his shirt, looking up at him with those hazy eyes, he fell in love with you. You just seemed to be the sweetest little child he'd ever met. He loved his children, but none of them had ever been this sweet. Adela had her mother's temper and was always picking fights. Gaston could be arrogant and prideful. Ash preferred solitude and hardly ever left the palace library. 

None of them had ever sought him for comfort like you did now.

He heard the door to the room open, but instead of one of his children, Adrianna walked in. She instantly came over, looking over your shivering figure. 

"A child?" She asked. "They don't seem to be doing too well."

"My thoughts exactly. I was going to move them to the east wing and call for a physician. We need to talk to the children about this though." Fergus said. Adrianna sighed, shaking her head fondly.

"Those kids... I'll wait for them here. You go bring them somewhere they'll actually recover."

Fergus nodded, carrying you away towards the east wing. The family wing.

˚˖°.𓃗⊹ ࣪ ˖

Adrianna sighed as she gently ran a hand down your face. Fergus was outside, talking to the children while they all awaited the physician. 

Every time her cool fingers brushed against your forehead you let out the cutest little noises. You were barely awake now that you were thoroughly warm. She smiled as she brushed some hair away from your face.

She could see why they had all become so enamored with you. There was just something about you, an enticing pull. Once the physician got here, maybe it wouldn't be too bad to suggest you staying with them for the foreseeable future...

˚˖°.𓃗⊹ ࣪ ˖

Consciousness came back to you in waves. You would wake up enough for someone to help you drink water or carry you to the restroom before you would drift off again. Despite that, you remembered flashes of things, here and there.

You remembered fingers playing with your hair. You remembered soothing words as someone replaced the cool towel on your forehead. You remembered being carried in sturdy arms. You remembered someone reading to you. You remembered someone gently feeding you some soup.

Your body felt like lead when you finally woke up. Your mind was still a little fuzzy, but you felt better by a lot. The room you were in was unfamiliar, clearly not your little alcove above the stable. 

The stables! You shot up, accidentally causing a coughing fit as you clutched your chest. It hurt to sit up and it hurt to cough. Just how long had you been sick for? And where exactly were you? You set the cool towel, which had fallen into your lap, into the bowl of water on the nightstand.

You stumbled as your feet hit the floor. When was the last time you had walked anywhere? Looking around the room, it seemed whoever had been caring for you would return soon. There was a fire gently crackling in the fireplace and a book was gently laid on a comfortable looking chair. 

You stumbled over to the window, drawing back the thick velvet curtain. Outside you could see the last bit of sunset, or the start of sunrise, as the sky was mostly dark. A sudden rush of black spots in your vision had you feeling sick and lightheaded. You leaned on the windowsill as your legs gave out, your forehead pressed into the cool glass as you tried to breathe.

You couldn't make yourself move when the door opened, or when you heard a sharp gasp. Instead you let the person gently pull you into their arms and carry you back to the bed. Your vision was flickering in and out of focus as your breathing became labored.

"You should've stayed in bed." A familiar voice scolded. The cool towel was placed back on your forehead.

"Your highness?" You whispered. Your throat felt like sandpaper when you talked.

"Shush. Just call me Gaston. Or, better yet, don't talk at all." He says, taking the chair at your bedside. 

"What-?"

"You're awake!" You could barely make out the princess, standing in the doorway along with a maid holding a tea tray. "Gaston you idiot! Why didn't you tell me they were awake?!"

"Obviously because they just woke up Adela. Be a dear and fetch mother and father, yes?"

"Why don't you do it? You got to be with them the longest!" It was clear the two were about to start arguing again.

"Both of you are idiots." A new voice stated. The youngest prince, Ash, has pushed past the princess with the king and queen appearing behind him in the doorway. 

"Whats going on?" You whispered. You were overwhelmed and very confused. Why was the entire royal family looking at you like you were some kind of precious jewel? Where was Mister Riley? Who was looking after the horses? "I- I need to-!"

"Oh no dear. You don't need to do anything." The queen said, a gentle smile on her face. She motioned for the maid to set the tray on the bedside before she was dismissed. "Ash, Gaston, Adela. Could you three go get the bowl of broth I asked for from the kitchens? I think me and your father should talk to them really quick."

It took some grumbling before she convinced the siblings to leave. The quiet that followed might've been peaceful if you weren't so anxious and disoriented.

"Lionel Riley, the stable master, has decided to officially retire due to his declining health. Although, he had a lot of good things to say about you and your work... despite your age." The king started, though his face fell when he mentioned how old you were.

"Yes. I don't think the horses have ever looked better. Don't worry about them, we brought in some outside help while waiting for your recovery." The queen assured you. "Although that does beg the question of how exactly you did end up here. Especially with how young you are."

You could only manage a shrug, weakly explaining in as few words as possible. You had no parents, just Mister Riley. He always said he found you, abandoned, when you were a toddler. When he asked around, no one had known your parents, so he'd kept you.

"We thought as much. However, with his retirement we've been discussion alternative placements for you. That is why we'd like to offer you a more... formal role in the palace. Ah, don't speak. Just listen." The queen said. "Instead of being in the stables all day, you could join us, here, as another member of our family."

You stopped breathing. Your eyes were wide as your mind tried to grapple with what was being offered to you. You, the stable hand who just wanted to enjoy your days with the horses, was being offered royalty? 

"You don't need to say anything. Just nod 'yes'. That's all we need, sweetheart." The king said, smiling at you warmly. "All you need to do is nod yes and you'll be taken care of, provided for, for the rest of your life. You'll have siblings who adore you, parents who love you. Everything you've ever wanted will be right at the tip of your fingers. Just nod yes."

You made a small noise, your eyes darting around. You never nodded, you never said yes, but you saw the way their eyes lit up as they took that as a yes.

They liked to remind you that you were the one that agreed, even if you never did. You were the one that agreed to their love, to their possessiveness and over protectiveness. It was all you, it was all your fault. It was all your own choice. You locked your own cage. You sealed your own fate. Now, you were paying the price.

[mashkatzi]

Thots on husband lu😔…….

Husband Luigi headcanons <3

AGHH omg omg he’s sooo husband. He would make the perfect husband.

⟡ husband Luigi who makes sure you always have fresh flowers in the vase in the kitchen. He buys you a new bouquet every week, surprising you with whatever is in season. Tulips and daffodils in the spring, dahlias in the fall, snowdrops in the winter and hydrangeas and lillys in the summer. He keeps one flower from every bouquet before you throw it out and dries it out, taping it into a book with the date. He keeps the book in his home office, flicking through the pages, picturing your smile and the way your face lights up every time he gifts you a bouquet.

⟡ husband Luigi who takes notice of all the little things. His brain is like a sponge soaking in information and retaining it. He remembers all the little things you mention, even if you don’t. You drive past a little cafe and you comment on how it “looks cute” so for your next date Luigi will take you there. You mention how you’re out of lotion and luigi will run to the store after work to pick some up for you. And yes, he remembers what lotion you use! You tell him you have a crick in your neck and he’ll buy you a massage gun or look into alternative chair options because the flimsy office chair you have doesn’t provide sufficient support. He learns massage techniques online to help alleviate the discomfort. You send him a funny video of couples yoga or Pilates and he’ll book you both in for a session on your day off. He’ll spend the whole day pampering you.

⟡ husband Luigi who enjoys the mundane domestic chores as long as you’re together. He makes every task a paired task. Need a hand changing the bedsheets, he’ll strip the sheets if you put the new ones on. Need a hand washing the dishes? He’ll wash if you dry. He’ll be yapping away the whole time and you enjoy listening contently to his interesting stories and educated takes about every little thing. Whether it be medicine, politics, cinema or even juicy gossip, he always has something interesting to add.

⟡ husband Luigi who is the calm to your storm. He always has a solution to your problems. Granted, you tend to panic and overthink about the little things but Luigi is always there with an answer to every problem.

⟡ husband Luigi who is mindful of how he goes about teaching you things. He wants to be your Prince Charming, swoop in and do all the work. If he had it his way you wouldn’t have to worry about lifting a finger, but he knows how important it is for you both to have the knowledge and understanding of how things work. But he makes sure to not come across as condescending or as if he’s “mansplaining” something to you. For example you have a rattling sound coming from your car so he guides you out with him, popping the hood and giving everything a once over. He finds the issue and calmly walks you through it, explaining exactly what needs to be done to fix it. He gets his tools out and instructs you on what to do and how to fix it. He is also adamant that you teach him things he doesn’t know. He’s never afraid to ask questions or admit if he doesn’t understand something. He doesn’t fear looking stupid because he knows he isn’t. He’s a little cocky about it but you like that about him.

⟡ husband Luigi who tracks your cycle to know exactly how you’ll be feeling and how he can make it easier for you. He knows when your period is due so will be sure to stock up on snack, warm drinks and have a hot water bottle and plenty of pillows handy. He reminds you to keep your fluids up and cooks your hearty healthy meals to make sure you’re fuelling your body properly. Offering a shoulder to cry on when you have mode swings and knowing that you need alone time occasionally. He knows that during your follicular phase you’ll have your energy back. He plans fun dates and hikes for you to take and even books couples workout sessions for you both. During ovulation he is well aware of your needs and how to care for them. He even teases you by wearing your favourite outfits like grey sweatpants and a black tshirt with a simple gold chain hanging from his neck. He walks around the house nonchalantly, smirking to himself because he knows it drives you crazy. He tries to mix it up in the bedroom by introducing new positions or encouraging you to try new things or new toys to make sure you get as much pleasure out of it as you can. He goes multiple rounds eventually allowing you to just use him until you’re fully satiated ;) During your luteal phase you suffer horrible mood swings leaving you irritable often resulting in you lashing out and then feeling horrible. He knows how to avoid pushing your buttons and lets you take your anger out on him. He never takes it personally and is always there to offer a cuddle and some sweet treats for when you need it. Your boobs are often sore and you feel bloated and have crazy headaches. He’s always there to offer up a hot water bottle, painkillers and some fresh fruit juice to help keep your energy up. He even cuddles with you and massages your boobs to help the pain and soreness.

⟡ husband Luigi who loooves when you wear his clothes. Especially after he’s taken them off. Before you moved in together he would *accidentally* leave his clothes at your place for you to sleep in. Oversized hoodies or basketball shorts whatever he thought would be comfy for you. Now that you’re married he loves when you go through his clothes picking random T-shirts or hoodies with nothing but your underwear on to wear on a lazy Sunday. He especially loves when you wear nothing but his button ups after sex. You wrap your arms around yourself or button up one or two buttons so your boobs are poking out through the top. The shirt is long enough to cover up your ass but one small move and you’re exposed to him.

⟡ husband Luigi who sends you messages and voice notes all day giving you little update on his day. He sends you pictures of the sky or of a cute cat he spotted on the street. He’ll send you voice notes that go on for minutes about a delicious sandwich he ate. Or maybe ranting about how much work he has to do and feels a little overwhelmed about. If he needs to run to the store to grab something for himself he’ll always text you to ask if you need anything. He likes to keep you updated and enjoys seeing your updates too. You send him funny pictures back or have a selection of reaction photos saved and he always tries to guess which one you’ll use. He knows you so well.

Tag list 🏷️: @multi-culti-girl @sabrininaa (comment to be added)

[flyby303]

Nue 😍

[hedwig221b]

Do you have any good recommendations for ‘arranged marriage’ for Sterek? I love all your recommendations and the recommendations others leave under your answers but I couldn’t find any that were specifically for arranged marriage.

Please and thank you so much! You are an absolute angel for your recommendations. 💜💜

Ah, thank you! You're so kind! Here are some of my faves...

Meant to be One by sunhazeheart

His nerves felt like a live wire was running hot beneath his skin, hands fidgeting with the silken material of his robe. If he had the concentration to spare, he might had worried about tearing it. It was all he could do to sit there at the vanity, eyes squeezed shut, and try to give in the constricting pressure around his chest that said that he was about to fall into a panic attack. Breath in. Breath out. His own heartbeat rushed in his ears. Being mated to the reclusive king with a frightening reputation to his name, bundled away from his home and father, and then surrounded by underwhelmingly distant faces hiding secrets was not how Stiles Stilinski imagine spending his life soon after turning eighteen. He can only remind himself that it is for the good of his people, both old and newly acquired. But, perhaps first assumptions are made too hastily and a fated match can be made, even surrounded by threats of war, revenge and death’s waiting embrace.

what do you call a rose by the_problem_with_stardust

He sinks down on a rock near a massive tree and rests his head in his hands. Someone nearby huffs. “Looks like my secret spot isn’t so secret anymore.” Derek looks up. There is a guy seated among the twisted roots of the tree. He’s about to get up and leave when the man’s scent hits him. Mate. No wonder his instincts are going insane.

Deflowered by astrugglingstoic

In which there is a prince, a knight, sequential sword fights, and an anecdote about pressed flower petals.

The White Hart of Winter by DarkAthena (seraphim_grace)

Sent to marry the Hale Beast Stiles finds himself alone in a castle left to ruin and watched over by Kate Argent, who he thinks is sleeping with his new husband and seems determined to destroy him.

You Made Me Believe by kits_lightning

“Here he comes.” His father whispered. Stiles couldn’t look, he felt nauseous and anxious. He tried to shake off the memories of witty, sarcastic comments, broody eyebrows, and intense stares. Stiles has been promised to a Prince he's never met before and they're about to get married but he can't stop thinking about the love of his life whom he's had to leave behind for the good of the kingdom…. or so he believes.

Under the Golden Moon by NARKOTIKA

Derek doesn't know how long he sits in his wolf skin, on his haunches, observing Stiles as the sunbeams slant through the trees and cast slashes of light across the omega's willowy form. The boy has his feet in the water, a babe on his hip, a bright smile on his face as the other younglings splash around and soak his garb. The creamy skin of his thighs peek out from the slits running down the sides of his draping skirt, and Derek has never wanted anything more than he wants this beautiful being of the woods.

The Thorns of a Rose by Dexterous_Sinistrous

“You have your mother’s eyes,” Peter suddenly commented, his tone light in his observation. Stiles stiffened at the mention of his mother. “Honest eyes,” Peter added as an afterthought. “Sunlit like the golden embers of coal burning in a forge.” Stiles turned a soured expression on Peter. “Have you a point?” He asked. “Many men have struggled to have those eyes even spare them a glance,” Peter simply stated. “An honest but naive treasure that managed to fool a dragon.” He placed the crown on Stiles’ head, amused when the boy immediately pushed away from him once the ornament was in place. “Hopefully those eyes can fool the Seven Kingdoms into thinking you could love a wolf.”

The Bargain by dr_girlfriend

Time drags on, and it becomes apparent that this is not a part of the tradition. The wolves start to shift on their feet and murmur, but no one attempts to speak to Stiles. He stands, feeling the back of his neck growing red from the sun and his face growing red from embarrassment. What will happen if Derek Hale cannot be coerced to the altar? Will the bargain be revoked?

Union by bythemoonlight

On the brink of war, the union between two strong packs is the only solution. The Stilinski pack is left with an omega heir and the Hale pack an alpha without a mate. Brought together as mates but ripped apart by a long war. They have to adjust to being back together after six long years.

The Decay of a Cosmos by Dexterous_Sinistrous

The memory of Derek confessing to him in the quiet of their shared resignation sparked from her words–“A child is leverage to my mother.” Derek knew what Talia wanted. And he refused to give it to her. Stiles’ hands tightened into fists. This was a gift, but not one Derek had given him willingly. He would live with that knowledge each time he held their son close. ~*~ A tale as old as arranged marriage, with a space opera twist.

A Tale of Two Princes by AllTheseSquaresMakeACircle

Given his nature of who he was, Derek Hale, only son to Talia and Marcus Hale, never expected to be married. Hell, he didn't even appear in public. But, after the war with the Argents, their country needed stability. And a political marriage suited that. Shame it had to be the prince of their neighbors to the south. Stiles had no idea where his life would take him. But a marriage of convenience to the crown prince of one of their neighboring countries wasn't exactly on his mind. He had to admit, it would have it perks. Both for the royal family, and for his country. He just didn't know anything about werewolves. Especially ones who were cursed out the ass. Oh well, he'd figure things out as he went.

The Fox & The Wolf by Dexterous_Sinistrous

The war between the fox and wolf clans has raged for centuries, ignited in a time before anyone can remember. Now both clans—tired of the bloodshed and hate—are searching for a way to end the war. Crowned prince Stiles Stilinski—heir to the fox clan—has agreed with his father to meet with the Hales, the ruling royal family over the wolf clan. Under the counseling of the Druids, both clans are presented with a solution to the war: unite the Stilinski and Hale clans through marriage. To quell their people's anger, both Stiles and Derek—eldest living Hale Alpha—are urged to accept the other as an equal; as their mate. For the sake of their people, both houses make the ultimate sacrifice by choosing duty over love. But, out of what was first assumed to be compromised, quickly turns to be a better match than either could have hoped for. But not all is easy for either clan, as some members refuse to believe that the war could end so easily.

By Moon And Stars by kellifer_fic

"Have you heard of this Alpha?" Stiles asks, shuffling up his pallet so Scott has room to sit. Scott does with a grateful little twist of his mouth. Stefan forces him into the Stilinski ceremonial armor when they travel and Stiles can see that it's heavy and doesn't sit well on Scott. He can't shift encased in metal and Stefan knows it. "I know of him, mostly stories that seem a little fantastical. Shifters exaggerate just like common people. They like their war stories." "Tell me of him. Tell me a war story."

The Arrangement by Arver7

Through blackmail and lies, Stiles and Derek are forced into a marriage neither of them wanted. If they each want to survive each other, they must learn to coexist. But the more they get to know each other, the more they seem to care about each other. But will the lies stop them from falling in love?

The Light in the Woods by DiscontentedWinter

To honour a treaty with the people of a strange land, Derek Hale, prince of the kingdom of Triskelion, has to marry Stiles.

Until Sunrise

“You told me I would have time,” Derek said, simmering with anger. “You promised to leave the choice to me.” “The court is starting to talk,” said Peter. “We do not have a stellar reputation as it is, and your ventures into the world of simple pleasures do not go unnoticed. You do not care, of course. But you are, pardon me, too loud for it to remain discreet.” “You think if I were to have a wife, I would stop fucking?” Peter cringed his nose. “No. It would make you a proper, civilized man. You are getting too old, nephew.” “Fine. But I’ll choose.” “No,” Peter smiled. “I shall choose.” Derek opened his mouth to argue, but Peter did not let him. “We both know you will continue to fuck whomever you want. None of us will be able to stop you. Let me have a pick of a proper spouse to placate the court. That’s all I ask.”

Other fic recs: angsty fics | possessive Derek | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | smut | mafia | hurt/comfort | magical!Stiles | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | BAMF!Stiles + pt2 | alive Hales | omegaverse | witch!Stiles | creature!Stiles + pt2 | bad friend Scott | pack mom!Stiles | unrequited love | werewolf!Stiles | dark sterek | single parent!Stiles | feral Derek | Stiles is underestimated | mpreg w/o abo | accidental knotting | jock!Derek | jock!Stiles | spanking | royal abo au | oblivious!Stiles | longfic | void!Stiles

[howdoesagrapewrites]

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬

Plot: Imagine being the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen, and having a very devoted family.

Cw: fem!reader, cisgender female reader (I'm sorry mascs and nbs, I'll make something for you later) incest/targcest implied for later, platonic and romantic yanderes, yandere EVERYONE x reader, here's a list of every character that will be featured (not all of them are romantic):Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen, Rhea Royce, Alicent Hightower, Otto Hightower, Viserys I Targaryen, Aegon II Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Haelena Targaryen, Daeron Targaryen, Lucerys Velaryon, Jacaerys Velaryon, Laena Velaryon, Laenor Velaryon

Notes: I go by a very strange mix of the series and the books, I haven't seen the series in a while so the timeline will most likely be a mess. I'd like this to be a series but I've been incredibly busy. Extra: at first I thought about making reader Mysaria's daughter, but this is a self insert, so it's best that you look however you like, leaving the mother anonymous. The only physical reference I'll make will be reader's silver hair

>After Rhaenyra was declared the heir of the iron throne, Daemon, insulted, flew away with his mistress, the white worm, who he would conceive a child with, even asking for a dragon egg for the prince or princess to come

>However, Viserys demanded him to go back to his home and wife, he sent Mysaria off to lys, where the stress of a storm in the trip back made her lose the baby

>Daemon never fully forgave his brother, and this left him less than eager to have another child anytime soon

>So imagine his surprise, when 7 years later, there's a rumour spreading in flea bottom like wildfire, about a girl carrying Daemon's bastard

>Many women had claimed to carry a royal child before, thinking this could give them any sort of prize, so Daemon didn't think much of it at first, but when he heard her name, he recognized her as one of his previous "favorites" who disappeared without a trace months ago

>She was said to have taken residence in Essos, and Daemon went on dragonback to find her. She was from the free cities, five years older than Daemon, and a heart as cold as a northern winter, or so they said. She was not expecting Daemon, running away to have the child in peace

>"They said I was too far along when I found out, moon tea would've only harmed me. Besides, it was lucrative in its own way" said the woman. Daemon did little to suppress the disgust on his face when thinking about her being defiled by other men while carrying his dragonseed babe

>She wanted no part in the baby's life, and Daemon, in his particular fashion, informed her he'd take the youngling as soon as it's out of her, may even pay her a few coins to make sure she won't do much as think about keeping it

>A few months passed, and he returned to king's landing with a babe in arms. Demanding an egg in honor of the birth of princess Y/N Targaryen

>This egg would later hatch into the dragon Dagahrion, the princess' bound dragon

>The court was a hot mess, according to Otto, he wouldn't be surprised if the young creature lost its left ear because of all the gossip and ill-speaking of her, just like her father. This was a scandal, considering he was still married to Rhea Royce, who he gravely dishonored time and time again, Daemon was always shameless, but this was crossing a limit, even for him, to call his bastard a princess while refusing to lay with his own rightful wife, disgraceful

>Daemon tried to use you as yet another attempt to get his brother to annul his marriage to "the bronze bitch", but even when he failed, he did everything in his power to legitimize his daughter

>Despite everyone on the council telling Viserys how foolish it'd be to do it, making enemies out of the Royce house, further insulting Rhea, and putting a whoreborn on the line of succession (no matter how far from the throne), all it took was a little yawn and the bright twinkle of your eyes to make him melt, he is fully committed to his role of uncle, even as a doting grandfather, considering his father passed long before her birth

>Viserys sent Daemon back to the Vale, saying he should do his best to give lady Rhea an heir, to make up for the slip and avoid causing the Targaryen house any more trouble. Viserys, for totally not selfish reasons wanted to keep the princess in KL, saying Rhea should not be made to raise his bastard

>Daemon said he'd rather be exiled again than to leave his daughter in Hightower hands to go try to fuck his wife. Viserys was greatly offended by the implication that the Hightowers truly ruled and schemed while he reigned

>To his outmost displeasure, he finally had to let his niece go to the Vale with her father

>Rhea loved you as soon as she set eyes on you, completely separating you from your father's actions, and seeing you as a pure angel in this horrible situation

>But it was so difficult with Daemon around, she just wanted to whisk you away and love you, she'd pray to the mother to be able to breastfeed you, crying when she heard you wail in frustration of your hunger, since it took several wet nurses to get you to drink milk

>But Daemon was always around to remind her you were not hers, that he considered her lowly, not worthy of you. He'd correct you when you learning to speak, and dared to refer to her as "mama"

>It was said the ground of the vale would shake upon them yelling when fighting over you

>But this joy to Rhea was short lived, as Daemon sent you to KL when he had to fight in the war of the stepstones, saying the "nest of vipers" was more deserving of you than she was. When you were three, your step mother had an accident while hawking, many said Daemon orderded for her to be poisoned when she was bed bound, others said the distress of your parting made her lose skill

>It was Viserys greatest pleasure when you were left at his care, his adorable baby niece was now an infant, and somehow you were even more charming, being able to speak, sing and walk

>To no one's surprise, Viserys' reaction was not generalized, with many not being keen on having a bastard running around the castle playing with the princes, by that point, Aegon was 8, Haelena was 7, Aemond was 5, and Daeron was 1, and almost all of them could see people treated you differently

>Rhaenyra was welcoming, baby Lucerys had just been born, and she was delighted to have a girl to spoil, it only helped that Jacaerys loved you as well, and would often fight his uncles for the chance to be with you

>Alicent in particular was not pleased with your presence, thinking you were an uncomfortable conversation to have with her children, especially resentful of the fact her youngest son would be attached at the hip with you

>To Otto, you were an annoyance, a living proof of Daemon's pure disregard for the norms, however, he could rest at night knowing you were ninth in the line of succession, and a girl, who would someday marry a son of a minor house and be too busy bearing children to present a claim to the iron throne

>Even though the Hightowers were tougher than the king, they did eventually succumb to your spell, and became just as enamoured with you as everyone else, in their minds, you were almost a product of spontaneous generation, completely ignoring your shameful father and prostitute mother

>Your arrival also caused the birth of Lucerys (who was again, born with a striking resemblance of Harwin Strong, just like his older brother) to be less gossiped about, after all, your case was much more interesting

>Some people in court starting referring to you as "The princess of flea bottom", this title costed quite a few tongues around the castle, ordered by Viserys, happily approved by Otto

>The Hightower hand was careful not to show too much affection to you, as it was improper and he knew how zealous was Viserys when it came to you

>Aegon was "already too old to be playing" in his words, and kept his distance from you, you reminded him to much of his sticky handed little brothers

>But as if you knew, you chased him around and praised him for his knightly demeanor (in your eyes) and how he's just like the heroes in Viserys' stories. It was not a long time before Aegon now appointed himself as your guard, watching like a hawk over his brothers and nephews when he thought they were being too rough on you

>Haelena loves you from the start, sees you as a little doll, she loves showing you her bugs, you're the only one who listens to her attentively

>Jacaerys and Daeron are only a year old, but always search for you, you think they're cute, something that spikes jealousy on Aemond, he wants you to think of him as someone worthy of admiration, like you see his older brother, he'd even accept being cute in your eyes, but he has none of those traits to appeal to you. You love him and love playing with him nonetheless, but he thinks he needs something else to win your favor

>The Velaryons dote on you too, with Laenor married to Rhaenyra and once your father marries Laena that same year, they are maybe too eager to become part of your family, and regard you as theirs

>Especially Laena, who Daemon allows (unlike with Rhea) to pamper and care for you, but still corrects you when it comes to remembering your origins, Laena may love you, but she's not your mother

>Maybe Daemon does this as a way to imagine you're only his, he doesn't care for the woman who abandoned such a precious treasure, she has been wiped away from your life and memory, you're only familiar with your father, you only belong to him

>You have his silver hair, you have his name, no matter who your mother was, you are his true valyrian heir, his dragonseed

>Unfortunately, Daemon is not the only one whose eyes light up when thinking of owning you

[supercap2319]

A/N: This could be given as a sequel to my last Fiyero Tigelaar fic.

: readmore:

Y/N watched as Fiyero approached him, Galinda hot at his heels. The Winkie prince gave him an easy going smile. This adorable little bookworm would soon be his. Fiyero thought to himself. There wasn't a person alive who could resist him once he turned up the charm.

“Hello, there.” Fiyero wiggled his fingers as Y/N shut his book and laid it down, giving Fiyero an annoyed look. “Hello.” Y/N’s greeting was about as warm and welcoming as a winter frost. Fiyero didn't seem to mind or notice as he gave a small bow. “You're Y/N, correct?”

“Yes, that's correct.”

“Well, allow me to introduce myself. I am Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie–”

“–I don't really give a damn who you are.” Y/N said.

The whole student body shared a collective gasp of shock. They had watched as Fiyero approached Y/N, only for the Upland boy to reject him. What was wrong with Y/N? Even Galinda was appalled by her brother's actions. “Y/N, how can you be so rude?” She admonished. “Fiyero is new here, and you're…you're…”

“You're a breath of fresh air.” Fiyero smiles.

“What?!” Everyone asked. Even Y/N was shocked by the Prince's unbothered attitude of how Y/N addressed him. Fiyero nods and smiles. “Yes, a breath of fresh air if you will. I've been to many schools to get swarmed by people who only say things that I wanna hear. It's refreshing to have someone have their own opinion for once. Tell me, Y/N. What are you doing out here?”

“Reading?” Y/N held up his book. “I trust you've seen one before. Or know how to read.”

Once again, Fiyero laughed as if Y/N’s snide comments didn't bother him in the slightest. Galinda gave an awkward chuckle as well. How could Fiyero be so nonchalant about being insulted? Especially his intelligence. “Well, I suppose I've never had a penchant for reading , but perhaps I haven't been introduced to the right book to captivate my attention.”

“Perhaps not.”

“Why don't you show me to your local library? I'm sure I could find something there with your help.” Fiyero smiles. His blue eyes were dancing with mischief and fun. Before Y/N could tell Fiyero to go jump off a cliff, Galinda stepped in. “Oh, we would be certainly delighted to show you around. Wouldn't we, Y/N?” Her smile was tight, and anything other than a ‘yes’ from Y/N would make Galinda upset.

Y/N sighed and stood up, trying to ignore the triumph smirk Fiyero was giving him at the moment. He began walking towards the Shiz building, not checking to see if Fiyero. “The library is this way, Prince Twinkie.” He continues towards the building as Galinda pulls a smirking Fiyero along. Oh, he was going to like this little bookworm.

They walked into the library, where Y/N spotted his dear friend, Elphaba, and waved as Galinda gave Fiyero a tour of someplace she's never even stepped into before. It was kind of hilarious to watch as Galinda addressed all around. “And this is the book place. There's a collection of rare books around here somewhere. And some medium rare as well.”

“He's looking for a book, sis. Not a steak.” Y/N said.

Fiyero chuckles. “Well, there's certainly many to choose from. What would you recommend, Y/N? A good adventure book? Perhaps something with a little bit of fun?”

“How about a book on the studies of why some people act brainless?” Y/N suggested.

“Tell me. What do you do for fun around here?” Fiyero ignored Y/N’s jab, and walked closer to the other male, smirking at him. Did this guy always have to smile at everything? “You ever been to the Ozdust Ballroom?”

“The Ozdust Ballroom? Are you insane?” Y/N asked.

Galinda gets in between them. “I mean, isn't that place somewhat illegal?” She looks around to make sure no one is listening before whispering. “And scandalocious?”

Fiyero nods. “Yeah, it is both of those things. Yeah. It's also not far from here, which is another plus.” Fiyero said as Boq, the Munchkin boy, trips and drops some of his books into the floor. Fiyero stifles a laugh as he looks down at him. “Whoa. You all right?”

Boq grunts as Y/N helps him up. “Yeah.”

“I'm Fiyero Tigelaar.” He looks at Y/N and winks. “Winkie Country.”

“Oh, Oz.” Y/N and Galinda both say for different reasons. Boq stood up. “Boq Woodsman.” He gets on a stack of books to be at the same height as Fiyero. “Of Munchkinland.” Galinda grabs Fiyero's arm and leads him away from Boq. Great. Excuse me. Good to know. Um, what were you saying again about the Ozdust and fun and you and me?”

“I was thinking of inviting you, and your brother to the Ozdust tonight.” Fiyero said.

“Unfortunately, it's against Shiz rules to go into town after dark. Sorry, Prince Twinkie.” Y/N said, but he didn't sound very sorry about it. Fiyero didn't seem to mind though. “I see that, once again, the responsibility to corrupt my fellow students…” He puts his arms around both Y/N and Galinda as she gasps. Y/N rolled his eyes. “...falls to me. Excuse me.” He grabs a book from a nearby girl, and he accidentally drops it to the floor. Y/N bends down to pick it up, but Fiyero puts a black riding boot on top of it. Y/N looks up as Fiyero shakes his head no.

“The trouble with schools is…” Fiyero began.

“Not a damn song.” Y/N whispered to himself. It seemed like everyone at this school could sing and dance like some sort of musical theater show you'd hear about in the Emerald city. Not in the Shiz library. “They always try to teach the wrong lesson.” Fiyero throws a book over his shoulders, and it lands with a thud. “Believe me, I've been kicked out of enough of them to know.”

Y/N believed that. Fiyero did seem like the type to cause so much mischief and chaos at the schools he previously attended, that they had no choice but to kick his ass out. “They want you to become less callow, less shallow. But I say, why invite stress in? Stop studying strife. And learn to live the unexamined life.” Fiyero easily charmed the librarian as he winked at Y/N, showing off. “Dancing through life. Skimming the surface Gliding where turf is smooth.” He gets on the table and in a very proactive pose starts to jumble around another student's head. Life's more painless for the brainless. Why think too hard, when it's so soothing? Dancing through life. No need to tough it. When you can slough it off as I do.”

The young Upland boy watched as Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie country, start a whole musical number inside the library.

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Holidays! Anything with Zagreus, please?

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26

Zagreus has spent years imagining the moment he faced Demeter head on. He always imagined he'd be calm, but he'd never imagined her attacking one of his priestesses. Not Eliana, who first spread his name amongst the mortals, who created his first orchard, who's spent decades faithfully serving him.

"What's your problem?" he snaps. "If you wanted to talk to me that badly, you just had to ask."

Her shock is giving way to fury.

He feels a hand tugging insistently on his tunic and looks down to see Eliana half kneeling, keeping half an eye on Demeter even as she whispers, "Prince, what are you-"

"Go inside," he commands, softening his voice just slightly in the face of her fear. He knows that fear is for him. "That's an order, Eliana."

She presses her lips together but lets go, giving him a shallow bow and retreating to the safety of the temple.

"You liar," Demeter snarls, ice swirling around her in her rage. "You said you couldn't leave the underworld!"

"I can't move unencumbered," he says, his own anger burning as hot as anything in his father's domain. "But among my people and on my land, I move freely."

This earth is soaked in blood. The plants growing around them have been carefully cultivated for almost as long as he's been coming to the surface. His power is inside of him and all around him and he feels it itching under his skin, begging to be used, to return blood for blood.

"You are not a goddess of winter, Demeter. It's time you stopped acting like it."