#their competitive spirits when they find out ‘x’ can do it will be great

[ohblimeygeorge]

Gonna need a video of all the drivers doing this now pls

[gyuuberryy]

a tailored connection

pairing: designer!sunghoon x muse!reader

synopsis: sunghoon, a talented designer, has always harboured feelings for his longtime friend, you. when he invites you to be his muse, the sessions are charged with a tension that neither of you can ignore. as sunghoon’s compliments and intimate moments reveal deeper feelings, a surprising twist shakes your world. with your engagement to someone else looming and sunghoon grappling with his emotions, both of you face a turning point that will challenge everything you thought you knew about love and friendship.

genre: friends to lovers, both are fools in love

warnings: looot of tension, angst!! , kissing, crying, not really proofread

note: aaand with this royally yours comes to an end, i had a great time writing it! where can i get a man who makes me dresses like this :( i hope you enjoy reading this<3

word count: 16.8k

royally yours masterlist | prev:jake

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

the sound of laughter echoes through the village streets, a memory woven into the fabric of your childhood. sunghoon had always been there, his presence as familiar to you as the sky above. you grew up side by side—first as playmates, then as something more complicated, though neither of you had the words for it yet.

it started with simple things. the way he’d hold out his hand to help you over the stones in the river, his grip firm but gentle. the way he’d always save the last piece of the bread he bought for lunch, handing it to you with a shy grin. and the way he’d linger just a bit longer when you hugged him goodbye, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go.

you were never apart for long, always finding reasons to be in each other’s company. as children, you’d run wild through the village, a pair of inseparable companions. the streets had been your playground, the trees your hideout, and the open fields your kingdom.

sunghoon was the one who taught you how to climb trees, his long limbs making it look easy as he scrambled up the tallest one in the village square. you’d followed him then, determined to keep up with him no matter what, your competitive spirit something he both teased and admired.

“come on, you can do it,” he’d called down to you one day, perched on a sturdy branch high above, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “i’m not leaving you behind.”

“i’m not going to be left behind,” you’d retorted, climbing faster, though your hands were trembling. you didn’t want to admit it, but heights terrified you.

sunghoon had seen through you, though, like he always did. when you reached the top, his hand had shot out to steady you, his touch reassuring. “see? i told you,” he said, smiling in that soft way that always made you feel warm inside.

that was how it always was—sunghoon pushing you to be braver, to go further, but always there to catch you if you stumbled.

as you grew older, the carefree days of your childhood evolved into something quieter, but no less meaningful. sunghoon’s passion for design began to bloom, his sketchbook always tucked under his arm, filled with dresses, cloaks, and the kind of ornate embroidery that would make any noble gasp. he’d spend hours at the village tailor’s shop, learning from the master tailor, and you’d sit in the corner, watching him work, admiring the way his hands moved with precision and care.

“why don’t you just play outside like the other girls?” the old tailor would often ask you, shaking his head with a smile. “this place is no fun for someone your age.”

you’d always smile back, knowing full well why you stayed. “i don’t mind. besides, i like watching sunghoon.”

sunghoon would look up from his work then, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “she’s my best critic,” he’d say, as if that explained everything.

but it wasn’t just about watching him work. there was something in the quiet moments between you, in the way you understood each other without having to say a word. he would sketch something and glance up, catching your eye, and you’d know exactly what he was thinking. he didn’t have to say it.

the bond between you deepened with every passing year, though the village seemed blind to it. to everyone else, you were just friends, nothing more. but there were moments—fleeting, subtle—when you felt something stirring between you, something neither of you dared to speak aloud.

it wasn’t until one late afternoon, when the two of you were sitting under the large oak tree at the edge of the village, that you truly realised how much he meant to you.

the summer sun cast a golden glow over the fields, the breeze carrying the scent of wildflowers. you were both quiet, simply enjoying each other’s company. sunghoon had his sketchbook open on his lap, his charcoal pencil moving lazily across the page. you were watching him, as you often did, wondering what it would be like to have your portrait sketched by him. would he see you differently if he looked at you that way? would the feelings you’d kept locked inside for so long show on your face?

“what are you drawing this time?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence. it was always your way of trying to sneak a glimpse into the world that sunghoon poured into his designs.

he looked up, startled from his thoughts, his pencil pausing mid-stroke. “just... a dress,” he said, and though it sounded like a simple answer, there was a softness in his voice that made you curious.

“a dress?” you echoed, smiling. “for who?”

“for... no one in particular,” he murmured, closing the book before you could peek at it. “just an idea.”

you tilted your head, studying him. “you’ve been spending a lot of time on these designs lately. are you preparing for something big?”

he shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “maybe. i’ve been thinking about... making something new. something different. i don’t want to just follow the same old patterns forever.”

you nodded, understanding. sunghoon had always been ambitious, but his talent had begun to outgrow the small village you lived in. you knew it was only a matter of time before he would have to leave—venture into the capital or even beyond to showcase his work.

“whatever it is, you’ll be amazing at it,” you said, your voice steady, though your chest tightened at the thought of him leaving.

he glanced at you then, his expression unreadable. “you really think so?”

“of course,” you replied without hesitation. “i’ve always believed in you.”

the words felt heavier than they should have, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. sunghoon’s gaze lingered on you, something unspoken flickering in his eyes, but just as quickly, he looked away, his fingers nervously tapping the cover of his sketchbook.

“i couldn’t have come this far without you,” he said, his voice quiet. “you’ve always been there for me.”

you smiled softly, nudging him with your shoulder. “that’s what friends are for, right?”

but even as you said it, the word “friends” felt inadequate—too small to hold the depth of what you felt for him. and though you couldn’t say it aloud, you wondered if sunghoon felt the same.

as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the fields, the two of you sat in silence, side by side. in the fading light, everything felt suspended—like the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

but neither of you moved, and the unspoken feelings between you remained just that—unspoken.

for now.

the day had started like any other. you were making your way through the village, the familiar sights and sounds surrounding you—children running through the streets, merchants shouting their daily specials, and the distant clang of the blacksmith’s hammer. but today, something felt different. there was an odd flutter in your stomach, though you couldn’t quite place why. perhaps it was because you were heading to sunghoon’s workshop, as you often did, or perhaps it was something else.

his shop had grown over the years, its modest space now brimming with elegant fabrics and mannequins draped in partially finished garments. sunghoon had worked tirelessly, his name slowly gaining recognition beyond the village, though he remained humble about his achievements. it had become a routine for you to visit him, to sit in the corner while he worked, offering your thoughts or simply watching the magic unfold under his skilled hands.

when you arrived, the door was slightly ajar, and you pushed it open to find sunghoon standing at his worktable, deep in thought. his back was turned to you, the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the window and casting a soft glow around him. he was focused, hunched over a sketch, his pencil moving in rapid strokes, as if he were chasing some fleeting inspiration.

you stepped inside quietly, not wanting to disturb him. he was always at his best when he was lost in his work—his mind far away from the village, immersed in a world of silk and satin, seams and stitches. but even in those moments, it wasn’t uncommon for him to sense your presence before you spoke.

today, though, he was more distracted than usual. he didn’t notice you until you were almost beside him, peeking over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his newest creation. “what’s this one?” you asked lightly, hoping not to startle him.

he jumped slightly, straightening up and turning to face you, a small smile forming on his lips when he saw it was you. “you’re early.”

you raised an eyebrow. “am i interrupting?”

“no, not at all,” he said, closing the sketchbook and setting it aside. “i was just... thinking.”

“you do that a lot,” you teased, leaning against the edge of the worktable. “what’s on your mind today?”

for a moment, he didn’t answer. his gaze drifted toward the window, his fingers playing absentmindedly with the hem of a piece of fabric. you could see there was something weighing on him, but sunghoon had always been the type to choose his words carefully, never speaking until he was sure of what he wanted to say.

finally, he turned back to you, his expression serious but soft. “i’ve been working on something new. something important.”

you crossed your arms, intrigued. “i figured as much. you’ve been spending even more time here than usual. what is it? a new collection?”

“not exactly,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “it’s... different this time. i want to create something that’s truly mine, something that will set me apart. but to do that, i need help.”

you blinked, surprised. sunghoon rarely asked for help, especially when it came to his designs. “help? from me?”

he nodded slowly, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart skip. “i want you to be my muse.”

the words hung in the air between you, heavier than you’d expected. muse. it wasn’t just a word—it was a role that carried meaning. in a way, you’d always been part of sunghoon’s creative process, offering suggestions or simply being there to share in his successes and frustrations. but this... this was something else entirely.

you shifted your weight, suddenly feeling a little unsure. “a muse? what do you mean?”

“i mean...” he hesitated, running a hand through his hair as he searched for the right words. “i’ve been designing dresses, outfits for people i’ve never even met. but none of them feel personal. none of them feel real. i want to create something that speaks to me, and to do that, i need someone who inspires me. someone i know. someone... like you.”

your breath caught in your throat. the way he said it, the way his eyes lingered on you—it was impossible to ignore the meaning behind his words. he wasn’t just asking you to be part of his work; he was asking you to be at the centre of it. to be the person he looked at, thought about, dreamed about while he created. and that idea stirred something inside you that you hadn’t been prepared for.

“i don’t know if i’d make a very good muse,” you said, trying to laugh it off, though your heart was racing.

sunghoon stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “you’re perfect for it. you’ve always been perfect.”

the air between you shifted, growing warmer, heavier with tension. it wasn’t the first time he’d complimented you—he was always kind, always thoughtful—but this felt different. his words weren’t casual or lighthearted. they carried weight, an unspoken truth that had been building between you for years.

you felt the heat rise in your cheeks, your throat tightening. being his muse meant more than just standing still while he draped fabric around you. it meant letting him see you, really see you, in ways that no one else ever had. it felt intimate, like a part of you would be etched into every piece he made.

“what would that mean for us?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

sunghoon blinked, startled by the question. “what do you mean?”

“you and i,” you clarified, feeling the weight of the words. “if i agree... won’t it change things between us?”

for a long moment, sunghoon didn’t speak. he seemed to consider your words, his eyes searching your face as if trying to decipher your feelings. finally, he took a deep breath, stepping even closer, so close now that you could feel the warmth of his body. “maybe it will,” he admitted, his voice soft but steady. “but maybe it’s already changed. maybe it’s been different for a long time.”

his words hit you like a wave, the truth in them undeniable. he was right. things had changed—slowly, quietly—but neither of you had ever dared to acknowledge it. until now.

your heart hammered in your chest, the weight of his confession settling over you like a blanket. you could feel the tension between you, crackling like the air before a storm. there was something fragile, something precious hanging between you, and the slightest word or movement could shatter it.

but then, without thinking, you made your decision.

“i’ll do it,” you said, your voice barely audible, but firm.

sunghoon’s eyes widened, a flicker of surprise and relief passing across his face. “you will?”

you nodded, your gaze never leaving his. “yes. i’ll be your muse.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke. the silence stretched, heavy with the unspoken feelings that had been buried for so long. and then, slowly, sunghoon’s lips curved into the softest smile—a smile that reached his eyes and made something inside you melt.

“thank you,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours, and for a brief, electrifying moment, it felt as if time stood still. you were acutely aware of how close he was, how much more intimate things had become between you in just a few short minutes.

you smiled back, though your heart was pounding. “i think it’ll be fun.”

sunghoon laughed softly, the sound low and warm, and the tension between you seemed to ease, just a little. but even as you both fell into a more comfortable silence, you knew that things between you had changed. there was no going back now.

the sun was beginning to set as you made your way to sunghoon’s shop, a soft, golden glow spreading across the village. it had been only a few days since you agreed to be his muse, but the weight of that decision still lingered in your mind. there was a sense of anticipation, an underlying current of excitement that thrummed through you, but also an edge of nervousness that you couldn’t shake.

you had always been comfortable around sunghoon, but this felt different. it wasn’t just visiting a friend; you were stepping into a role that felt intimate in ways you hadn’t quite expected. and you knew that once you crossed the threshold of his workshop today, something between you would shift again.

when you arrived, sunghoon was already waiting. the door was propped open, and you could hear the faint sounds of rustling fabric and the occasional scratch of his pencil against paper. you hesitated for a moment at the doorway, taking a deep breath before stepping inside.

sunghoon looked up as soon as you entered, a soft smile pulling at his lips. “you came,” he said, sounding almost relieved.

“of course i did,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light despite the quickening of your pulse. “i’m your muse now, remember?”

his smile widened just a little, and he motioned for you to come in. “right. my muse.”

the word still felt strange on your tongue, and hearing him say it made something flutter in your chest. you glanced around the room, noticing that he had cleared some space near the large windows where the light poured in. rolls of fabric were neatly arranged, sketchbooks stacked nearby, and a dress form stood at the centre, waiting to be draped with something new.

you stepped closer, feeling the warmth of the sunlight against your skin, but also the weight of sunghoon’s gaze on you. his eyes followed your every movement, a soft intensity in them that made the space between you feel smaller, more charged.

“so, where do we start?” you asked, forcing a smile to break the tension that was building in the room.

sunghoon set down his pencil and moved to stand beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours as he reached for a roll of fabric. “i was thinking we’d start by figuring out what you like. i want to design something that feels like you—not just any dress, but one that you’d wear and feel... beautiful in.”

the way he said the word beautiful made your stomach flip. you swallowed hard, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the way his voice lingered on the compliment.

“what i like?” you repeated, frowning slightly. “i’m not sure. i mean, i’ve never really thought about it.”

sunghoon raised an eyebrow, glancing over at you with a small smile. “you’ve never thought about what you like in dresses? after all this time of coming here and watching me work?”

you laughed, a little nervous. “i guess i’ve always been more interested in what you were making for other people.”

“well,” he said, his voice softening, “now it’s time to think about what’s right for you.”

he moved closer, picking up a few pieces of fabric and holding them up to the light. “what do you think of these? what colours feel like you?”

you eyed the fabrics he held—a deep emerald green, a soft blush pink, and a striking midnight blue. each one seemed to carry a different weight, a different mood, and the idea of choosing one for yourself felt strangely personal.

“i’m not sure,” you admitted, reaching out to touch the green fabric. “i’ve always liked green, but... i don’t know if it suits me.”

sunghoon tilted his head, his eyes flickering over you, as if he were studying you in a way he hadn’t before. “it suits you,” he said quietly, the certainty in his voice catching you off guard. “it brings out your eyes. but so would the blue.”

you blinked, surprised by the compliment. sunghoon wasn’t one to flatter people needlessly, especially not you. his compliments usually came in the form of casual remarks, offhand observations about how a colour might work or how you carried yourself in a certain style. but this—this was different. there was something in his tone, in the way he looked at you now, that felt far more intimate.

you felt your face grow warm under his gaze, suddenly self-conscious. “you think so?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“i know so,” he replied, his eyes never leaving yours. “you have a way of making things look better just by wearing them. it’s not just about the dress—it’s about how you wear it.”

the room seemed to shrink, the air between you growing heavier with each passing second. you hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected him to speak so plainly, so openly. sunghoon had always been composed, professional, even around you. but now, there was something more vulnerable in the way he spoke, something unguarded.

you cleared your throat, trying to break the moment before it became too much. “well, what about styles then? i’ve always liked simpler designs. nothing too extravagant.”

sunghoon nodded thoughtfully, his eyes still lingering on you, as if he were trying to memorise every detail of your expression. “simple suits you,” he murmured. “but there’s something about you that deserves more. something elegant.”

“elegant?” you echoed, unsure of where this was coming from.

“mm,” he hummed, reaching for his sketchbook. “you’ve always carried yourself with a kind of grace—like you don’t even realise how beautiful you are.”

your breath hitched. you stared at him, your heart pounding louder in your chest as his words hung in the air between you. this wasn’t just a compliment—it was something else. something deeper. and the realisation of it hit you like a wave.

sunghoon, too, seemed to realise the weight of what he’d just said. he quickly looked away, focusing on his sketchbook as if he could take the words back by drowning them in his work. “i didn’t mean to... i mean...”

you stood there for a moment, unsure of how to respond. you had never thought of yourself the way sunghoon was describing you now, and the fact that he saw you like this—it was overwhelming. you could feel the tension crackling between you, the unspoken feelings that had always lingered beneath the surface suddenly threatening to rise.

“i just... think you should have something that shows who you are,” sunghoon continued, his voice quieter now, more careful. “not just as my muse, but as you. something that makes people stop and see you the way i do.”

your pulse quickened at his words, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if you could trust yourself to speak. the way he was looking at you now, with an intensity you hadn’t seen before, made it feel like the walls of the workshop were closing in.

you glanced down, trying to focus on the fabric in your hands, but the weight of his gaze lingered. “sunghoon... i don’t know what to say.”

he shook his head, stepping back slightly as if to give you space. “you don’t have to say anything. i just... i want you to feel beautiful in whatever i make for you. that’s all.”

there was a long pause, the only sound in the room being the soft rustle of fabric as you ran your fingers over the green material again. your mind was spinning, your heart racing, and yet you couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through you at his words. it wasn’t just the compliment—it was the way he saw you, the way he always had.

finally, you looked up, meeting his gaze once more. “i trust you, sunghoon. i always have.”

his eyes softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “good,” he said quietly. “because i promise, whatever we create together, it’s going to be something unforgettable.”

the light from the late afternoon sun bathed sunghoon’s workshop in a golden hue, casting long shadows that stretched across the room. you stood near the centre, nervously smoothing the fabric of your dress as sunghoon readied his tools. he had done this countless times—measuring clients for garments—but somehow, this felt different. more intimate. more real.

“alright,” he said, his voice a little too casual as he approached with a measuring tape in hand. “this won’t take long.”

you nodded, trying to keep your breathing steady as you watched him move closer. sunghoon had always been meticulous when it came to his work, his hands sure and steady, but today there was a faint tremor in them as he unspooled the tape.

“so, uh,” he began, his gaze flickering between your face and the tape in his hands. “we’ll start with your shoulders. just... relax.”

you forced a smile, though the tension in the air was impossible to ignore. “i’m relaxed.”

he shot you a look that said he wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t argue. he stepped behind you, and you could feel his presence—warm, steady—just inches away. the fabric of your dress shifted slightly as he gently placed the tape around your shoulders, his fingers grazing your skin ever so lightly. the contact sent a shiver down your spine, though you tried your best to suppress it.

for a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft rustling of the measuring tape as he adjusted it. you could feel your heart beating faster, your pulse quickening with each passing second. sunghoon, on the other hand, seemed to be holding his breath, as if he were just as aware of the closeness as you were.

“alright,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, more focused. “now your waist.”

he stepped around to face you, his gaze briefly meeting yours before dropping to the tape in his hands. his movements were careful, almost hesitant, as he crouched slightly, bringing the tape around your waist. you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry as his fingers brushed the sides of your dress, the heat of his touch lingering longer than it should have.

the proximity, the feel of his hands so close to you—it was almost too much. you bit your lip, fighting the urge to fidget under his intense concentration. sunghoon had always been calm, composed, but now there was an unmistakable tension in the air, a subtle awkwardness that made your heart race even faster.

he straightened up, pulling the tape taut as he noted your measurements. “i... uh,” he began, clearing his throat slightly, “i’ll need to get your bust next.”

you blinked, feeling your face grow warm. “oh. right.”

it wasn’t as if you hadn’t expected it—this was part of the process, after all—but somehow the idea of sunghoon taking that particular measurement felt... different. the room seemed smaller, the air thicker as you watched him struggle to keep his composure.

his hand hovered for a moment, clearly unsure of what to do. “i—uh,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “just... hold still.”

you nodded, though you could feel the flush rising to your cheeks as he brought the tape around your chest, his fingers brushing the fabric of your dress with the lightest touch. his face was close now—closer than it had ever been—his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you.

neither of you spoke. the silence stretched, heavy with the unspoken desires that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. his fingers fumbled slightly as he adjusted the tape, and for a brief moment, his hand brushed against your skin, sending a shock of electricity through you.

you inhaled sharply, your breath hitching at the unexpected contact, and sunghoon froze. his eyes flicked up to meet yours, wide and startled, as if he hadn’t meant to let the moment slip.

“sorry,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “i didn’t mean to...”

“it’s fine,” you said quickly, though your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

but he didn’t move away. his hand remained where it was, the heat of his palm radiating through the fabric. you could feel every inch of him—every breath, every subtle movement—and the closeness was dizzying. there was something in his eyes, something unspoken, that made your pulse race even faster.

you swallowed hard, your voice barely steady as you spoke. “sunghoon...”

he blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and quickly stepped back, dropping the measuring tape as if it had burned him. “i—i think that’s enough for now,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck again, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “i’ve got what i need.”

you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding, trying to regain some semblance of normalcy. “are you sure? i mean, if you need more measurements—”

“no!” he said, perhaps a little too quickly, then cleared his throat. “i mean, no. we’re good. i’ve got everything.”

the tension between you was palpable, thick and heavy, but neither of you knew how to break it. sunghoon busied himself with gathering the tape and jotting down notes, though his movements were jerky, his usual calm demeanour nowhere to be found.

you watched him, feeling a strange mix of emotions swirling in your chest. there was an awkwardness, yes, but also something else—something that had been building between you for a long time, simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to spill over.

finally, sunghoon spoke again, though his voice was softer now, almost hesitant. “you know,” he said, not meeting your eyes, “you really do have... perfect proportions.”

your heart skipped a beat, his words catching you completely off guard. “what?”

he cleared his throat, rubbing his neck awkwardly once more. “i mean... for the dress,” he added quickly, as if trying to backtrack. “you have a really... balanced figure. for tailoring, i mean.”

you blinked, taken aback by the sudden compliment, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. it wasn’t just what he said—it was the way he said it. the way his voice softened, the way he fidgeted under your gaze, as if he were revealing more than he intended.

“i... thanks?” you managed, feeling your cheeks burn with a mix of surprise and awkwardness.

sunghoon gave you a tight-lipped smile, clearly as flustered as you were. “yeah. no problem.”

the silence that followed was thick and heavy, both of you too aware of the tension that had settled over the room like a heavy blanket. sunghoon quickly turned away, busying himself with his sketches, but the weight of the moment lingered in the air, unspoken but undeniable.

you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart, but you knew—no matter how much you both tried to pretend otherwise—something between you had shifted. and neither of you were quite ready to confront it yet.

the days following that first measurement session seemed to blur together, each one filled with quiet moments, shared glances, and unspoken words that hung heavy in the air. sunghoon had thrown himself into the design, sketching feverishly as if creating your dress had become not just his project, but his obsession. every stroke of his pencil seemed deliberate, every detail in the fabric a reflection of how closely he had studied you—not just your body, but you as a person.

the workshop had become a second home to you, and you found yourself spending more and more time there as the dress took shape. each day, you would come in, greeted by the soft sounds of scissors slicing through fabric and the rhythmic hum of sunghoon’s needle as he stitched delicate patterns. his focus was unbreakable, yet there was always that moment when he would pause, look at you, and give a small, almost shy smile, as if he still couldn’t believe you were there, helping him create something so personal.

the tension between you grew thicker with every passing day. it was as if the fabric sunghoon was weaving was also binding the two of you together in ways neither of you had expected. there were the long stretches of silence, where the only sound was the soft brush of fabric against your skin as he worked, and then there were the moments when his hand would linger just a little too long as he adjusted the fit of a sleeve or pinned the hem of a skirt.

each session brought a new creation—a new dress, a new style. it had become almost routine: he would sketch out his ideas, asking for your thoughts on the design, and then you would model the fabric as he draped it over you, pinning it into place before moving on to the next step. but no matter how professional sunghoon tried to keep things, there was always that spark of something more lurking beneath the surface.

one afternoon, as you stood in the centre of the room, sunghoon paced around you, scrutinising the latest dress he had draped over your frame. this one was softer than the others, a light cream-coloured gown with delicate embroidery along the bodice. you could feel the weight of his gaze as he circled you, studying every fold, every contour, as if he were memorising the shape of you through the fabric.

“what do you think?” he asked, his voice quiet but steady, his eyes focused entirely on you.

you glanced down at the dress, running your fingers over the soft fabric. “it’s beautiful,” you murmured. “you’ve really outdone yourself.”

sunghoon didn’t respond right away. instead, he stepped closer, his brow furrowing slightly as he adjusted the neckline of the gown. his fingers grazed your collarbone as he worked, sending a shiver through you. he seemed to hesitate, his touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary, before he cleared his throat and stepped back.

“i’m trying to capture... something,” he said, his voice trailing off as he picked up his pencil and notepad, scribbling down a few notes. “something that feels... like you.”

you blinked, surprised by his words. “like me?”

he nodded, not looking up from his notes. “it’s not just about the dress. it’s about how you move, how you carry yourself. i want to create something that feels like it belongs to you. not just any dress, but... your dress.”

there it was again—that intensity in his words, the way he seemed to see you in ways no one else ever had. you weren’t sure how to respond, so you simply nodded, letting the moment settle between you.

the sessions continued like this over the next two weeks, each one more charged than the last. sunghoon worked tirelessly, sketching new designs late into the night, and every day you would return to see the progress he had made. he would greet you with that familiar smile, sometimes shy, sometimes teasing, and you would fall into the rhythm of your muse-and-artist routine.

but there was something else growing between you, something neither of you could ignore. each time sunghoon draped a new fabric over your shoulders, each time his fingers brushed your skin as he measured or adjusted the fit, the unspoken tension between you deepened. his compliments, once casual and light, became more thoughtful, more personal.

one day, as he worked on the finishing touches of a new gown—a soft lavender dress with delicate lace trimming—he paused, glancing at you from across the room. “you know,” he said, his voice softer than usual, “i’ve always known you were beautiful.”

you froze, your heart skipping a beat at his sudden confession. he didn’t meet your eyes, instead focusing on the hem of the dress as he stitched. “i just... i don’t think i’ve ever told you that,” he continued, his voice almost hesitant.

the words hung in the air, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. sunghoon had always been complimentary in his own way—praising your grace or your proportions for the sake of his designs—but this was different. there was something raw, something vulnerable in his tone that made your chest tighten.

“sunghoon,” you began, but he quickly shook his head, cutting you off before you could continue.

“i’m not saying it for any reason,” he said quickly, his hands still busy with his stitching. “i just... i think it’s something you should know. you’re more than just a muse to me.”

your breath caught in your throat. the weight of his words was impossible to ignore now, the line between friend and something more growing blurrier with each passing day.

you watched him work, his brow furrowed in concentration as he focused on the task at hand. the quiet intimacy of the moment settled around you like a soft cloak, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else existed outside of this room—just you, sunghoon, and the delicate threads of connection that were slowly being woven together.

by the time he finished the lavender dress, the air between you had shifted once again. there was no denying the feelings that had been bubbling beneath the surface for so long, but neither of you were ready to confront them. not yet.

“i think it’s done,” sunghoon said quietly, stepping back to admire the dress.

you turned, catching his eye for a brief moment before looking away, the tension between you still thick and unresolved.

“it’s perfect,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

sunghoon nodded, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer before he turned back to his sketches, his hands already moving toward the next design. but as he worked, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had shifted once again, pulling you both closer to the inevitable.

the day sunghoon finally called you to his workshop to try on the completed dress, your heartbeat quickened with anticipation. you had witnessed pieces of the gown as it came together—folds of fabric, tiny swirls of embroidery—but you hadn’t yet seen the masterpiece in its entirety. now, standing at the doorway, you felt a fluttering mix of nerves and excitement, an invisible pull drawing you into sunghoon’s world once more.

as you stepped inside, you found sunghoon waiting, his face a picture of quiet intensity. he nodded toward the mannequin where the dress hung, his eyes unreadable but somehow deeper, darker than usual, as if holding back something unspoken.

when your gaze finally landed on the dress, your breath caught in your throat.

it was breathtaking.

the gown was nothing short of exquisite—lavender silk flowed like water from the bodice down to the floor, shimmering under the afternoon light that streamed through the windows. the neckline was delicately embroidered, the threads so fine they seemed like whispers etched into the fabric, while lace fluttered over the sleeves, giving the piece an ethereal, almost dream-like quality. the entire dress exuded elegance, but more than that, it felt like you—a reflection of something so deeply personal that you almost couldn’t believe sunghoon had captured it.

you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the gown. “sunghoon... i don’t even know what to say,” you whispered, your fingers brushing the edge of the fabric. “it’s perfect.”

he remained silent, watching you with a quiet intensity that sent shivers down your spine. his gaze didn’t waver as you admired the dress, his expression unreadable but brimming with something just beneath the surface.

“try it on,” he finally said, his voice low and steady, though there was a note of something raw in it.

nodding, you carefully took the dress from the mannequin and disappeared behind the changing screen, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. the fabric felt cool against your skin as you slipped into the gown, the weight of the silk settling around your body like it had been made just for you—which, of course, it had.

the dress hugged your curves in all the right places, the bodice fitting snugly while the skirt fanned out into a soft cascade of fabric. you ran your hands down the front, smoothing the delicate lace as a quiet gasp escaped your lips. it was perfect—no, more than perfect. it was everything you had dreamed of.

but there was one problem. as you reached behind your back to tie the strings that secured the dress, you quickly realised they were positioned just out of your reach. you stretched and fumbled, trying to catch the ties, but it was no use. frustration bubbled inside you, and after a few more futile attempts, you sighed in defeat.

“sunghoon?” your voice was hesitant, your cheeks warming as you called for his help.

“yes?” he replied, his voice soft but nearby.

“i... i can’t tie the strings on my own. could you—could you help me?” your request was almost timid, aware of the intimacy it required, but there was no other option.

a pause followed, but then you heard his footsteps approaching. he came closer, and the air between you seemed to shift, charged with a kind of tension that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“of course,” sunghoon said quietly. his voice had taken on a softer tone, one that sent a quiet thrill through you as you stood there, waiting, feeling the heat of his presence behind you.

you turned your back to him, exposing the bare skin between the open edges of the dress. the silence that followed was thick, palpable, as his fingers grazed the strings, brushing against your skin in the process. his touch was featherlight, but each accidental contact sent small jolts through you, your senses heightened by the proximity, the intimacy of the moment.

sunghoon worked with slow, deliberate care, pulling the strings through the loops at your back. his fingertips continued to brush your skin, his movements precise but betraying the tension in the way his breath seemed to catch when his hands touched you. you could feel his closeness—the heat radiating from his body, his steady breath that almost matched the rhythm of your own heartbeat.

in the mirror directly in front of you, you watched his expression as he tied the delicate knots. his brow was slightly furrowed in concentration, but there was something else, something simmering beneath the surface. his lips parted ever so slightly, his eyes darkening as they traced the movement of his hands against your skin. you couldn’t stop staring at him, watching the way his fingers worked, almost trembling as they lingered on your body longer than necessary.

your pulse quickened, your breath coming out a little too shallow, and you wondered if he could feel the way your muscles tensed under his touch. it was impossible to ignore the tension—something unspoken, something that had been building between you for weeks, was about to break.

“there,” sunghoon murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. his hands remained on your waist, resting lightly against the fabric as though he couldn’t bring himself to let go just yet.

you swallowed hard, watching him through the mirror. the look on his face wasn’t just one of pride in his work—it was something far deeper. his gaze softened as he admired the way the dress fit you, his fingers tightening slightly against your waist. “you look... beautiful,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “it suits you perfectly. is it comfortable?”

the words were innocent enough, but the way he said them—the hushed tone, the way his eyes never left yours in the reflection—made your heart race. you nodded, unable to form words, still lost in the haze of the moment.

“it’s perfect,” you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly.

sunghoon’s hands stayed where they were, his touch sending a heat through you that was impossible to ignore. your eyes met his in the mirror, the intensity between you crackling like a flame barely held back. his grip on your waist tightened just a little, his fingers pressing into the fabric as though he were anchoring himself.

for a moment, everything froze. the workshop, the world outside—none of it seemed to matter. all that existed was the way he was looking at you, the way his breath hitched as he stood so close. his fingers brushed against your waist, just under the edge of the fabric, grazing the skin there ever so slightly.

then you turned around, and suddenly, the space between you was gone.

you were standing so close that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, your chest brushing against his as you moved. his eyes darted to your lips, then back up to your gaze, conflicted but full of want. the air was thick with tension, so much that you could hardly breathe, and then, without warning, sunghoon’s restraint snapped.

he kissed you.

the kiss was swift, almost frantic, as if he’d been holding it back for too long. his lips pressed against yours with a kind of hunger that sent shockwaves through your body, stealing your breath. one of his hands slid up your back, pulling you closer, while the other remained at your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of the dress as though he were afraid you’d slip away. the kiss deepened, your senses overwhelmed by the heat of his mouth against yours, the way his hands held you like he’d never let go.

your mind spun in a whirlwind of sensation. the kiss was impulsive, raw, filled with all the feelings he had been holding back for so long. you couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—all you could do was respond, kissing him back with the same intensity, the same desperate need that had been growing between you for weeks.

but then, reality crashed down.

sunghoon pulled back, his eyes wide with shock and regret, his breath ragged as he stared at you. “i—” his voice faltered, his hand still lingering on your waist, trembling slightly. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “i didn’t mean to—”

you were just as dazed, your heart still pounding, your lips still tingling from the kiss. “it’s... it’s okay,” you said, though the words felt hollow. the kiss had left you reeling, and you weren’t sure what to think, what to feel.

sunghoon’s expression twisted with regret, his hands falling away from your waist as he stepped back. “we shouldn’t have—” he shook his head, his face pale. “i crossed a line.”

you swallowed hard, feeling the tension between you shift into something heavier, something filled with confusion and guilt. “maybe we should forget this happened,” you whispered, though the weight of the kiss still lingered in the air.

he nodded, his expression tight, though the pain in his eyes was unmistakable. “yeah. let’s... forget it.”

but neither of you could. the kiss, the way his hands had held you, the way your heart had raced—it was etched into the fabric of your friendship now, impossible to untangle.

word had spread quickly about sunghoon's exceptional craftsmanship. it began with whispers among the town’s elite, impressed with the stunning gown he had created for you, and soon, nobles from far and wide were flocking to his workshop, eager to have their own garments custom-made by his skilled hands. what had once been a modest business now thrived under the weight of new orders, with sunghoon’s talent finally receiving the recognition it deserved.

every day the workshop buzzed with activity—fine fabrics and intricate patterns sprawled across every surface, and sunghoon worked tirelessly, sketching designs, selecting fabrics, and stitching together dreams. you often found yourself there, as his muse, watching as he brought these creations to life, offering input or simply keeping him company through the long hours. his success was yours to share, and you couldn’t have been more proud.

one day, a letter arrived from the royal palace itself. the princess had heard of sunghoon’s work and requested him personally to craft a gown for her upcoming ball. the letter was written in elegant script on fine parchment, a formal request for his presence at the palace to discuss the details of the gown. when he read it aloud to you, you could hardly contain your excitement.

“sunghoon, this is incredible!” you exclaimed, beaming at him as he held the letter in his hands. his eyes shone with a mixture of pride and disbelief, as though he couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

“it’s surreal,” he admitted, glancing at you with a smile that warmed you from the inside out. “i never thought i’d be making dresses for royalty.”

“you deserve it,” you said earnestly, feeling your heart swell with admiration for him. “you’ve worked so hard, and now everyone can see just how talented you are.”

sunghoon’s smile faltered for a moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes as he looked at you. “i couldn’t have done it without you,” he said softly. there was a weight to his words, a depth of feeling that you felt but couldn’t quite name. your heart skipped a beat, but before you could respond, he turned away, folding the letter carefully.

the trip to the palace was an experience neither of you would forget. the sprawling estate, the opulence of the interiors, the sense of awe that filled you as you walked through the grand halls—it was like stepping into another world. sunghoon had been invited to meet with the princess and discuss her gown, and as his muse and close friend, you accompanied him.

the princess was gracious and kind, and she spoke with sunghoon about the design she envisioned, praising his previous work. throughout the conversation, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, watching the way he carried himself with quiet confidence, his artistic mind already turning over the details of the gown in his head. it was hard not to feel a swell of pride, knowing you had played a part in his journey to this moment.

afterward, when the order had been placed and the royal commission secured, sunghoon suggested you both celebrate the occasion.

the restaurant was warm and cosy, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city, far removed from the grandeur of the palace. the two of you had shared many meals together over the years, but tonight felt different. the weight of sunghoon’s newfound success hung in the air between you, the knowledge that his life—your lives—were changing in ways you hadn’t fully anticipated.

you sat across from him, toasting to his success with glasses of wine, laughter bubbling up as you reminisced about old times. “do you remember the time we tried to make that dress for my cousin’s wedding, and the fabric tore right before the ceremony?” you said, laughing as you recalled the chaos.

sunghoon chuckled, shaking his head. “how could i forget? i thought i was finished as a tailor before i even started.”

“but you saved it in the end,” you said, your smile softening as you looked at him. “you’ve always had this way of making things beautiful, even when they seem impossible.”

his laughter faded, and for a moment, there was a lingering silence between you. his gaze met yours, and the atmosphere seemed to shift—something unspoken hung between you, thick and heavy like the summer air. the warmth from the wine and the closeness of the moment made it difficult to focus on anything else but him—the way the candlelight flickered against his features, the way his eyes softened when they lingered on you just a little too long.

he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “you know, this success… it’s more than i ever thought possible. and i don’t think i could have done it without you by my side.”

his words struck a chord deep within you, the intensity in his eyes making your breath hitch. there it was again—that undercurrent of something more, something that had always been there, just waiting for the right moment to break free.

your heart pounded in your chest as you leaned in slightly, your faces just inches apart. the air between you crackled with anticipation, the proximity sending sparks down your spine. you could feel the warmth of his breath, the space between you narrowing with every passing second. your eyes locked, and in that moment, it felt like the world had fallen away.

the moment stretched on, and you could feel your heart racing, your pulse thundering in your ears. he was so close now, close enough that you could feel the heat of his body, close enough that all it would take was one small movement, one tiny step forward, and—

“i’m getting married,” you blurted out, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them.

sunghoon froze, his eyes widening in shock. the spell between you shattered, and you immediately regretted speaking, but there was no taking it back now. the air between you went cold, and you felt your stomach drop as the weight of your announcement settled over the table like a heavy blanket.

“what?” his voice was low, strained, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he had just heard.

you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “my parents... they’ve arranged a marriage for me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m engaged.”

the silence that followed was deafening. sunghoon stared at you, his expression unreadable, though you could see the flicker of pain in his eyes. his jaw clenched slightly, his hand tightening around his glass as if he were trying to steady himself.

“when?” he finally asked, his voice tight, controlled.

“the date hasn’t been set yet,” you admitted, feeling your throat tighten with guilt. “but... soon.”

sunghoon sat back in his chair, his gaze dropping to the table. for a long moment, he didn’t say anything, the silence between you stretching into something unbearable. you could see the conflict in his eyes—the hurt, the frustration, the confusion. the tension that had been building between you for weeks, months even, was now thick with an unspoken finality.

finally, he looked up at you, his eyes dark and clouded with emotion. “congratulations,” he said quietly, though the word felt hollow, like it had been ripped from him unwillingly.

your heart sank, a wave of disappointment washing over you. you had expected... well, you didn’t know what you had expected. for him to fight for you, maybe, to protest or say something that would change everything. but instead, all you got was a distant, polite congratulations.

“sunghoon—” you started, but he shook his head, cutting you off.

“i’m happy for you,” he said, though the strain in his voice betrayed his true feelings. “i’m sure he’s a good man.”

the words stung, more than you had anticipated, and you couldn’t help but feel a deep ache in your chest. this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. but what could you say? you were engaged, and he... he was congratulating you, just as any friend would.

“yeah,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible. “thanks.”

but neither of you was happy, and you both knew it.

the walk back home felt heavier than usual. the excitement and easy flow of conversation that had filled the night seemed to dissipate into an awkward, thick silence. sunghoon walked beside you, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, eyes focused on the road ahead. normally, you’d both talk about everything and nothing—jokes, shared memories, or the latest designs he had been working on. but tonight, every step felt strained, as if the unspoken words were choking both of you.

you could feel the weight of what had happened at the restaurant still hanging between you, as if the tension you hadn’t acted on had only grown with your admission. sunghoon had insisted on walking you home, just as he always did, though the usual warmth in the gesture felt distant now. neither of you had tried to break the silence, though you kept stealing glances at him out of the corner of your eye.

his face was unreadable, lips pressed into a thin line as he walked with an unusual stiffness. you wanted to say something, to break the thick silence, but no words came. the engagement had changed everything between you, and you hated how powerless it made you feel. there was a dull ache in your chest as you watched him struggle with the weight of emotions he clearly wasn’t ready to share.

when your house came into view, you slowed your steps, almost wishing the walk could last just a little longer. but it didn’t. you reached your doorstep, and just as you were about to thank sunghoon for the walk, the door swung open.

your mother appeared, her face lighting up the moment she saw the two of you standing there. “sunghoon! what a surprise!” she exclaimed warmly, stepping out and pulling him into an embrace before he could protest. “you look so well!”

sunghoon smiled politely, though you could tell he was caught off guard by her enthusiasm. “good evening, ma’am. i was just walking your daughter home.”

your mother beamed, glancing at you with that knowing look of hers. “he always does, doesn’t he?” she teased lightly. “such a good boy.”

“mama...” you muttered, feeling embarrassed.

but your mother wasn’t finished. “come in, come in! you can’t just leave him standing outside like that,” she scolded, ushering sunghoon into the house before either of you could object. you shot him an apologetic look, but he waved it off with a small smile as he followed her inside.

the warmth of your home enveloped you both, the familiar scent of dinner lingering in the air. your father was sitting by the fire, and when he saw sunghoon, his face brightened. “ah, there’s the young tailor everyone’s talking about! come, sit with us.”

sunghoon looked between you and your parents, clearly not wanting to intrude, but it was hard to refuse the hospitality of your family. you watched as he settled into one of the chairs near the fire, his polite smile fixed in place, though you could sense the unease in his posture.

your mother sat beside him, clasping his hands in hers as she looked at him with pride. “sunghoon, i’ve heard such incredible things about your work lately. everyone is talking about you, and we couldn’t be more proud.”

you could see the discomfort in his eyes as your mother’s words began to feel more like a reminder of the distance between you. he offered her a tight smile. “thank you. it’s been... unexpected.”

“and well deserved!” your father chimed in. “we always knew you’d make something of yourself, ever since you were little.”

your mother nodded eagerly, her gaze softening as she looked at him fondly. “we’ve seen you grow up alongside our daughter, sunghoon. you two have always been so close... practically inseparable.”

you stiffened at the words, knowing what was coming next.

“which is why,” your mother continued, glancing at you briefly before turning back to sunghoon, “it’s been so hard for her, this whole engagement business.”

your stomach twisted. the topic you had been dreading was now out in the open, and you didn’t miss the way sunghoon’s jaw tightened ever so slightly. he was trying to stay composed, but the flicker of surprise in his eyes was unmistakable.

“she’s protested quite a bit, hasn’t she?” your mother added, her tone half-amused, half-concerned.

sunghoon’s eyes darted toward you, his surprise evident. you could see the confusion in his expression as he processed your mother’s words. you hadn’t said yes to the engagement? not fully? he had assumed you had accepted it without question, but now...

you averted your gaze, feeling your cheeks flush under the weight of both his and your parents’ attention. you hadn’t exactly fought against the engagement with much force either. it was an unspoken understanding between you and your family that the marriage would happen eventually, even if your heart wasn’t fully in it. but now, seeing sunghoon’s expression shift, you could see the conflict in his eyes.

your mother continued on, oblivious to the tension now thick in the air. “it’s just nerves, of course. every girl feels a bit uncertain before a big step like this.” she smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “she’ll come around.”

you wanted to protest, to say something that would dispel the awkward silence stretching between you and sunghoon, but the words caught in your throat. instead, your mother’s next words hit like a hammer, unknowingly driving the wedge deeper.

“actually,” she began, her voice suddenly filled with excitement, “we were hoping you could help us with something, sunghoon.”

he blinked, taken aback by her tone. “of course, ma’am. what is it?”

“well,” she said, glancing at you with a grin, “who better to make our daughter’s wedding dress than the most talented designer in town?”

the room felt as if it had dropped several degrees, the weight of her request pressing down on all of you. you felt your stomach churn, a sinking feeling of dread settling in. you hadn’t expected this—he hadn’t expected this. you watched as sunghoon’s expression faltered for the briefest moment, his composure slipping as the full impact of your mother’s words hit him.

make your wedding dress. your wedding dress.

he smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “i’d be honored,” he said quietly, his voice strained.

your mother clapped her hands together, beaming with delight. “oh, that’s wonderful! i knew we could count on you, sunghoon.”

he stood up then, a sudden stiffness in his movements. “thank you for your kindness,” he said, his voice more formal now. “but it’s late, and i should be going.”

your mother stood as well, ushering him toward the door with a fond smile. “of course, of course. but we must meet soon to discuss the dress!”

sunghoon nodded, his gaze avoiding yours as he headed for the door. you followed behind in silence, the heaviness between you both suffocating.

at the doorstep, he paused, his hand resting on the doorframe as he turned to face you one last time. there was something broken in his expression, a quiet sadness that you couldn’t quite place. for a moment, it seemed as if he might say something—something real, something raw—but then, he simply nodded.

“good night,” he whispered, before turning and walking away.

as you watched him disappear into the night, your heart ached with the words left unsaid, the feelings unspoken, and the love you both were too afraid to fight for.

as sunghoon walked through the dimly lit streets, the cool night air did little to ease the storm brewing inside him. each step echoed in the stillness, but his mind was anything but calm. the evening had turned from tense excitement into a suffocating weight pressing down on his chest.

he replayed your mother’s words over and over in his mind: “who better to make our daughter’s wedding dress than the most talented designer in town?” the words had cut deeper than any blade, the cruel irony of it all making his heart twist painfully. he had dreamed of crafting something beautiful for you, yes, but never like this. not for someone else’s wedding. not for the marriage that would take you away from him.

sunghoon clenched his fists, his knuckles white as his nails bit into his palms. a marriage. to someone else. he could barely picture it, the idea so foreign and painful that it seemed absurd. but the reality was right there, looming in front of him like an unstoppable force. he had always known that this day would come. you were from a noble family, destined to marry someone of status. and him? he was a tailor, nothing more. his growing reputation in town meant little in comparison to the weight of your family’s expectations.

it’s for the best, he told himself, over and over, like a mantra he hoped would dull the pain. your life with that man—whoever he was—would be easier, more secure. you’d live the life you were meant to lead, filled with luxury, stability, and everything a noblewoman deserved. sunghoon had nothing to offer in comparison. even with his recent success, his craft could never provide you with the life that an arranged marriage could.

sunghoon’s pace quickened, the weight of his emotions making it harder to breathe. his mind whirled with a painful realization: it’s better this way. he had no right to confess his feelings to you now. no right to complicate your life any further. you were getting married, and he had to respect that. confessing his love wouldn’t change anything—it would only hurt you more, and he couldn’t bear the thought of being the cause of your pain.

he thought of the way you had looked at him tonight, how your eyes had softened when you admitted that you hadn’t agreed to the marriage yet. the flicker of hope that had briefly ignited in his chest had been swiftly extinguished by the cold voice of reason. you deserved better than him, better than a life filled with uncertainty and struggle. and even though it tore him apart inside, sunghoon knew he had to let you go.

she’ll be happier without me. the thought twisted like a knife in his heart, but he held onto it like a lifeline. it was easier to believe that than to face the truth—that he was simply too afraid. too afraid to fight for you, too afraid of what loving you truly meant. because if he did confess, if he asked you to choose him, what then? you would have to give up your life of comfort, your family’s support, and the future they had planned for you. and what if you regretted that decision later? what if he couldn’t be enough for you?

no. he wouldn’t let that happen. he couldn’t risk it.

by the time sunghoon reached his workshop, his heart was heavy with the decision he had made. he stepped inside, the familiar smell of fabric and wood filling the space around him, but it no longer brought him any comfort. he stood in the dim light, surrounded by the tools of his trade—the very things that had brought him success—and felt nothing but emptiness.

he wouldn’t confess. he couldn’t.

because he loved you too much to ask you to settle for less.

the tension between you and sunghoon hung in the air like a thick fog, clouding everything you had once held dear.

he avoided you, not because he wanted to, but because he couldn’t bear to look you in the eye. each passing day, you found yourself hoping—desperately—that he would come to you, that he would say something to stop the impending wedding. but instead, sunghoon pretended to be okay. he carried on with his work, his life, as if the confession hadn’t happened. as if you hadn’t bared your soul to him and he hadn’t done the same. he buried his emotions, putting on that same calm, controlled front, and it drove you mad.

he wouldn’t fight for you.

your heart ached with the realisation, and it became painfully clear during the next few days that sunghoon had no intention of changing the course of things. the silence between you both was unbearable, the distance growing wider with each passing moment. and just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, your parents made it worse.

they scheduled an appointment with sunghoon for the most painful task yet: designing your wedding dress.

the irony of it was too cruel. sunghoon, the man who knew every inch of you, who had memorised your shape, your measurements, who had held you so intimately in his arms, was now tasked with crafting the gown you would wear as you married someone else. it was the final blow, the final insult, to a relationship that had been ripped apart by circumstances you couldn’t control.

when the day of the appointment arrived, you found yourself standing outside his workshop, dread pooling in your stomach. you didn’t want to go inside. you didn’t want to face him, not after everything that had happened, and certainly not for this.

with a deep breath, you pushed the door open, stepping into the familiar space that now felt cold and foreign. sunghoon was already there, standing by his work table with rolls of fabric laid out in front of him, but the usual warmth in his eyes was absent. he looked up when you entered, his expression neutral, professional. he greeted you with a small nod.

“let’s get started,” he said, his voice low, as if he too was trying to suppress the emotions that lingered just beneath the surface.

you could barely look at him. the air was thick with tension, and you forced yourself to speak, though your voice came out flat, distant.

“i don’t even know why i’m here,” you muttered, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. “this is just… a formality.”

sunghoon’s eyes flickered briefly with something—hurt, maybe—but he masked it quickly. “your parents want you to have the perfect dress. it’s important to them.”

the atmosphere inside sunghoon’s workshop felt suffocating. you sat rigidly on a small chair, staring at the neatly folded fabrics in front of you while sunghoon prepared his tools. everything about the moment felt forced, mechanical, nothing like the ease and flow of your previous sessions together. you didn’t want to be there. and you were making it painfully clear.

sunghoon turned to face you, holding a few sketches in his hand, his face expressionless. but you could sense the tension in the air, the unspoken pain that lingered between you both. he wasn’t the same, and neither were you.

“so,” he began, keeping his voice calm and professional, “do you have any preferences for the neckline? maybe something you’ve always liked?”

you shrugged, not even looking up at him. “don’t know. don’t care.”

his brow furrowed slightly, but he said nothing, nodding as if that response was perfectly normal. he glanced down at the sketches again, adjusting the paper. “okay… how about the fabric? i was thinking something soft, maybe silk? or—”

“whatever,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “doesn’t matter.”

sunghoon paused, his eyes lingering on you for a moment. you could feel his gaze, heavy with concern, but you refused to meet it. you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how hurt you were, how badly you wanted him to say something, anything, that would change this.

he sighed quietly, turning back to his worktable. “i just want to make sure it’s perfect for you,” he said softly, his voice gentle but strained. “this is an important day…”

you clenched your jaw, the words digging into your heart like shards of glass. an important day? for who? certainly not for you. he kept talking about the wedding as if it were inevitable, as if you were excited about it, and it made your blood boil.

“what about the waistline?” he asked again, forcing the conversation to continue. “something fitted, or maybe a bit more relaxed?”

“i don’t care,” you replied tersely, your tone sharp. “you’re the expert, right? just do whatever.”

the silence that followed was deafening. sunghoon stood still for a moment, his hands resting on the fabrics, his back to you. you saw the slight slump in his shoulders, the way his fingers gripped the edge of the table just a little too tightly, and for a second, you almost regretted your words.

but the frustration bubbling inside you wouldn’t let up. you had come here hoping, praying, that he would give you a reason to stop the wedding, that he would fight for you. instead, you were sitting here discussing necklines and fabric as if everything was perfectly fine, as if you weren’t on the verge of losing everything.

he turned back around, this time holding a measuring tape. “let’s… start with your measurements,” he said, his voice sounding tired, defeated.

you stood up reluctantly, moving toward him, your movements stiff and reluctant. you stood there in the middle of the room, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest.

sunghoon stepped closer, the tape measure in his hands, and for a moment, you both stood in silence, the tension between you thick and suffocating. his proximity felt overwhelming, but this time, it wasn’t filled with the same spark as before. instead, it was heavy, burdened with all the things you both refused to say.

he hesitated for a second before gently wrapping the tape around your waist. his fingers brushed lightly against your skin, but there was no tenderness in the touch. it was robotic, methodical, like he was forcing himself to distance every part of him from you.

“what about the sleeves?” he asked quietly, trying to fill the silence. “long or short?”

“whatever,” you snapped. “it doesn’t matter. none of this matters.”

sunghoon froze for a moment, his hands stilling against your waist. the silence stretched between you, thick with unresolved tension, before he pulled away, the tape measure slipping from his fingers. he turned to face you, his expression strained, frustration and confusion swirling in his eyes.

“what’s going on with you?” he finally asked, his voice low but firm. “why are you acting like this?”

you stared at him, your chest heaving with a mix of anger and sorrow. his question was the breaking point, the floodgates that had been holding everything back bursting open all at once.

“why am i acting like this?” you repeated, your voice trembling with emotion. “because you’re standing here, pretending like everything’s fine when it’s not!”

sunghoon’s brow furrowed, but he said nothing, his eyes searching yours for an explanation.

“this dress… this wedding… none of it matters to me!” you continued, your voice growing louder with every word. “i don’t want this. i never wanted this. and you know it, sunghoon. you know it better than anyone!”

he opened his mouth to respond, but you didn’t let him. the words kept pouring out, all the frustration and pain you had been bottling up for weeks finally spilling over.

“i’ve been waiting for you to say something, to do something—anything—that would make me stop this wedding. but you’ve just been standing there, acting like this is what i want when you know it isn’t!” your voice cracked, your hands trembling at your sides. “why won’t you say anything? why won’t you fight for me?”

sunghoon stared at you, the weight of your words hitting him like a punch to the gut. he looked down, his shoulders sagging as if the burden of everything you had just said was too much to bear.

“i… i thought this was what you wanted,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “i thought you deserved someone better than me. someone who could give you everything i can’t.”

you felt your heart clench painfully in your chest, the ache of his words almost unbearable. “that’s not for you to decide!” you shot back, your voice breaking. “you think i care about any of that? i don’t. i never did. the only thing i care about is you.”

the silence that followed was thick with raw emotion. sunghoon stood there, his expression torn, his hands trembling at his sides. he looked like he wanted to say something, like he was finally ready to fight, but the fear in his eyes held him back.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “i’m so sorry.”

the apology shattered whatever was left of your composure. you turned away, not able to stand the sight of him any longer.

“i don’t want to wear a wedding dress if it’s not for you,” you said quietly, tears brimming in your eyes. you swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to leave, your heart breaking with every step you took toward the door.

sunghoon didn’t try to stop you. he just stood there, broken, as you walked out of his life.

it was the dead of night, the streets shrouded in silence, broken only by the soft crunch of your hurried footsteps on the cobblestone path. you didn’t look back. you couldn’t. not when you had finally made your decision. with nothing but the small bags clutched in your hands, you walked with purpose, heart pounding as you made your way toward sunghoon’s home.

the weight of the evening air pressed against your skin, thick with the lingering tension that had been suffocating you for days. since that fateful conversation at his workshop, the ache in your chest had only deepened, every moment spent away from him gnawing at you. there was no escaping it. you couldn’t go through with the marriage. not when you knew where your heart truly lay.

the small house loomed ahead, a single dim light flickering from the window, signalling that sunghoon was still awake. your pulse quickened, the gravity of what you were about to do hitting you all at once. you were throwing away everything—your family’s expectations, your arranged marriage, the life you had been destined to live—all for him. and yet, none of it scared you.

because sunghoon was worth it. he was the only thing you wanted.

you reached the door, your breath shallow as you hesitated for a split second, your heart hammering in your chest. then, without another thought, you raised your hand and knocked.

a few moments passed, the silence inside the house dragging on like an eternity before you heard soft footsteps approaching. the door creaked open, revealing sunghoon standing there, his hair tousled, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw you standing there, drenched in moonlight, with your bags in hand.

“y/n?” his voice was laced with confusion, concern flickering across his features as he glanced between you and the bags at your side. “what are you—what’s going on?”

you didn’t answer right away. instead, you stepped forward, crossing the threshold into his home without invitation, leaving him to close the door behind you. the room was dimly lit, casting soft shadows across the familiar space where so much of your time together had unfolded. it felt both comforting and surreal to be here now, on the brink of something monumental.

“i couldn’t do it,” you said at last, your voice barely a whisper but filled with determination. “i couldn’t marry him, sunghoon.”

he stood there, frozen, his brow furrowing in confusion. “what do you mean? the wedding—it’s—”

“i don’t want to marry him,” you interrupted, turning to face him fully, your eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made your heart race. “i don’t want any of this. the wedding, the life my parents planned for me—it’s not what i want. it’s never been what i wanted.”

sunghoon’s breath hitched, his confusion deepening, but you could see the glimmer of hope slowly dawning in his eyes. “then… what are you saying?”

you dropped your bags to the floor and stepped closer to him, the raw emotion swirling inside you finally breaking free. “what i’m saying is that i’m here, right now, because i’m choosing you, sunghoon. all i’ve ever wanted is you. i thought—i hoped—you’d feel the same. but you never said anything. and i can’t keep waiting.”

his eyes widened, a storm of emotions flashing across his face. he looked torn between disbelief and longing, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out.

“i know you think i deserve better,” you continued, your voice growing more urgent, your hands trembling slightly as you reached out to him, “but i don’t care about that. i don’t care about anything except you. all i wanted—all i ever wanted—was for you to tell me you felt the same. to fight for me.”

sunghoon swallowed thickly, his eyes locked on yours, and for the first time since you had shown up, he looked utterly vulnerable. “i do… i do feel the same, y/n. i’ve always felt the same. but i thought—” his voice cracked, and he took a shaky breath. “i thought you’d be better off without me. i was afraid i’d ruin your life if i held you back from everything you deserve.”

you shook your head fiercely, your heart pounding. “you’re wrong. you never would have ruined anything. the only thing that’s been ruining me is the thought of losing you.”

tears welled up in his eyes, his composure crumbling as the weight of his emotions finally caught up to him. he took a step closer, his hands reaching out to gently cup your face. his touch was warm, familiar, filled with the tenderness that had been missing for so long.

“y/n,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “i don’t deserve you… but i can’t let you go.”

your breath caught in your throat as the distance between you vanished. his hands trembled slightly against your skin, but the intensity in his gaze spoke volumes. you could feel the raw need, the longing that had been suppressed for too long, finally coming to the surface.

“then don’t,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “don’t let me go, sunghoon. i love you. i’ve always loved you. and i’m not going anywhere unless it’s with you.”

the words seemed to unlock something in him. without another second of hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, his lips crashing against yours in a desperate, passionate kiss that spoke of all the years of pent-up desire and unspoken feelings between you. it was everything you had hoped for, everything you had longed for—pure, unfiltered love.

when he finally pulled away, breathless and trembling, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes still closed, as if savouring the moment.

“run away with me,” you whispered, your hands still tangled in his shirt. “we can leave this place, start a new life. i don’t care where we go as long as i’m with you.”

sunghoon opened his eyes, searching yours for any hint of doubt, but all he saw was determination—love. a soft, disbelieving laugh escaped him, his fingers tracing the lines of your face as if committing them to memory.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice shaking. “are you really sure about this?”

you smiled, leaning into his touch, your heart swelling with the certainty of your decision. “i’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

sunghoon closed his eyes again, pulling you into a tight embrace, as if afraid to let go. “i love you,” he murmured against your hair, his voice raw with emotion. “i’ve always loved you.”

tears of relief and joy welled up in your eyes as you buried your face in his chest, holding onto him like he was your lifeline. this was what you had been waiting for. this was all you ever needed.

“we’ll leave tonight,” he whispered, his voice resolute. “we’ll start over, just the two of us.”

you nodded, a smile breaking through the tears as you felt the weight of the world lifting from your shoulders. this was your new beginning. your future with sunghoon, the one you had always dreamed of.

and together, you knew you could face whatever came next.

the moon hung low in the sky, casting its pale glow over the winding road that stretched out before you and sunghoon. the cool night air clung to your skin as you both moved in silence, hearts pounding in unison as you left the only life you had ever known behind. with each step, the weight of your decision lifted, replaced by a thrill that sent shivers down your spine.

you glanced over at sunghoon, his face illuminated by the moonlight, a mix of determination and exhilaration playing on his features. his hand gripped yours tightly, as if afraid to let go, as if letting go would mean losing you forever. neither of you had spoken much since leaving his house, but the unspoken understanding between you was stronger than ever.

the path ahead was unknown, but that no longer frightened you. in fact, it excited you.

as you crested the hill that overlooked your town, you both stopped for a moment, turning to take in the view one last time. the place where you had grown up, where your families lived, where your life had been planned out for you—it all felt so distant now, like a world you were no longer part of.

you turned to sunghoon, a soft smile tugging at your lips despite the enormity of what you were doing. “so… where are we going?”

he turned to look at you, his eyes filled with that familiar spark of ambition you had always admired. “there’s a city,” he began, his voice low and steady. “a place i’ve always dreamed of going. it’s known for fashion, for artisans, for people like me who want to make a name for themselves.”

you could see the excitement dancing in his eyes, the dream he had always kept close to his heart. “i’ve heard of it,” you said, your smile growing. “you’re talking about sorina, aren’t you?”

he nodded, his grip on your hand tightening. “yes. it’s always been my dream to open my own studio there. to create something that’s entirely mine. but… i never thought i’d actually go. i didn’t think i’d have the chance.”

your heart swelled with pride and affection as you looked at him. “well, now you do,” you said softly. “and you’re not going alone.”

his expression softened, and for a moment, he just looked at you—really looked at you, as if he still couldn’t believe this was happening. then, with a quiet laugh, he pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your hair. “i don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion.

you smiled against his chest, wrapping your arms around him. “you’re wrong. you’re everything i deserve.”

with one final glance at the town behind you, the two of you turned and began your journey to sorina, the city of dreams. the road ahead was long, but the promise of a new life with sunghoon made every step feel lighter. the thought of him creating masterpieces, of you being by his side as his muse, filled you with a hope you had never known.

and as the two of you settled into your new life in sorina, that peace only grew. sunghoon’s dreams were coming to life with every stitch, every sketch. he was thriving in a way that you had always known he could, and you were there to see it all. your role as his muse was more than a job or a title—it was the culmination of your deep connection, your bond that had grown through years of friendship and love unspoken.

there were moments when the thought of your parents crossed your mind. the guilt of running away lingered in the back of your heart at times, knowing how much they had hoped for you to marry into the match they had chosen. you wondered if they were angry, disappointed, or hurt by your decision. but as days turned into weeks, those worries faded. you knew your parents—they loved you too much to hold on to their disappointment forever.

"i’m sure they’ll forgive me," you said one evening, resting your head on sunghoon's shoulder as you both watched the busy city streets from your studio. "they’ll come to understand… eventually."

sunghoon looked at you, his eyes searching your face for any signs of doubt. “you really think so?”

you nodded, smiling softly. “i know they will. they’ve always wanted me to be happy. and when they see how happy we are… when they see all you’ve achieved, they’ll realise we made the right choice.”

he reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering against your cheek. “i hope so,” he said, his voice quiet but filled with warmth. “i just want you to have everything you deserve. i want them to see that.”

“they will,” you reassured him, your voice soft but firm. “they’ve known you all your life, sunghoon. they know how hard you’ve worked. they’ll see why i chose you. why we chose each other.”

sunghoon’s lips curved into a small smile, one that made your heart flutter. “we’ll make a life together that’s worth showing them. one day, when they see what we’ve built, they’ll understand.”

and deep down, you knew he was right. your parents loved you, and in time, they would see the joy that your life with sunghoon brought you. they would forgive the abrupt departure, the wedding that never was. because while it wasn’t the life they had envisioned for you, it was the one you had always dreamed of.

as sunghoon’s studio grew, and as the two of you thrived in sorina, you no longer felt the weight of your decision. you had chosen love over duty, dreams over expectations. and in the end, you knew it would all work out. one day, when the time was right, you would return to your parents—not as the daughter who had run away, but as the woman who had found her happiness.

for now, though, the life you had built with sunghoon was everything you had ever wanted. the city of fashion, the thriving studio, the man you loved—it was more than enough.

and with every stitch sunghoon sewed, every dress he designed, you were reminded that you had made the right choice. together, you had found your place in the world. and you had no doubt that the people you loved most would come to understand that too.

BONUS SCENE !

in sorina, life had unfolded beautifully, and not just for sunghoon. the city may have been known for fashion, but it was also a hub of opportunity for anyone willing to carve out their own path—and you had done just that.

while sunghoon spent his days sketching and tailoring in his studio, you found your own passion and footing in the city. before long, you’d built something of your own—a modest business in jewellery making, a craft you had dabbled in back home but now took seriously. the bustling markets of sorina were filled with artisans from every walk of life, and soon your intricately designed pieces caught the eye of locals and visitors alike.

at first, it was a hobby. a way to pass the time while sunghoon worked. but it didn’t take long for you to gain recognition. your designs, delicate yet bold, paired perfectly with the high-end garments sunghoon was crafting. your pieces began to complement his work, and you both realised the potential of collaborating together—not just in love but in business.

the two of you often worked late into the night, your small workbench tucked in the corner of his studio. sunghoon would be bent over his latest creation, needles and thread in hand, while you arranged shimmering stones and metals into intricate patterns.

“you know,” sunghoon said one evening, breaking the comfortable silence between you, “we’re going to need a bigger space soon.”

you looked up from your work, raising an eyebrow. “why’s that?”

he smirked, nodding toward the scattered jewellery and sketches of new designs littering the floor. “because you’re taking over my studio, that’s why.”

you chuckled, shaking your head as you placed a bracelet you’d been working on down on the table. “i think we both know you’re the one taking up all the space. these fabrics are everywhere.”

“touché,” he replied with a grin, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “but i’m serious. your business is growing. people are asking for your pieces specifically now. you’ve got clients lined up at the door. we can’t keep pretending this is just a side gig.”

you shrugged, but your smile betrayed your pride. “maybe. but it’s not like i’m doing this on my own. you’ve helped me a lot. half of the clients only know about my jewellery because it’s paired with your designs.”

sunghoon shook his head. “no. they come for you. you’ve worked hard to get here. don’t downplay that.”

his words warmed your heart, and you leaned back in your chair, watching him for a moment. “i guess we’ve both come a long way, haven’t we?”

he met your gaze, the familiar spark of affection lighting up his eyes. “more than i ever imagined.”

as the weeks passed, the collaboration between your jewellery and sunghoon’s garments became the talk of the city. nobles and royals who ordered dresses from sunghoon began requesting matching jewellery pieces from you. soon, you were no longer just sunghoon’s muse or his partner—you were an established name in your own right.

at events and gatherings, whispers of “have you seen her designs?” filled the halls, your name mentioned alongside sunghoon’s, but never overshadowed by it. the partnership between the two of you was equal, balanced by your mutual respect and admiration for one another’s talents. while sunghoon’s studio flourished, so did your own reputation. you set up a small stall in the heart of the city, your jewellery catching the sunlight and drawing the attention of passersby. with each new order, you found yourself standing more confidently in this new life you had built.

one evening, as the two of you sat in the now-expanded studio, reviewing orders and discussing the future, sunghoon turned to you, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“so, what’s next for you? you’ve got clients begging for your work, you’re practically a household name now,” he teased, nudging you gently. “maybe it’s time you open your own studio, too?”

you smiled, considering his words. “maybe. i’ve been thinking about it, actually.”

sunghoon raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “oh? you’ve got plans you’re not telling me?”

you laughed softly, shaking your head. “no, nothing concrete. but i do think it’s time i take things to the next level. i want to expand, maybe hire a few apprentices. i don’t want to just make jewellery—i want to teach others how to do it, too. there’s a lot of talent in this city that deserves to be nurtured.”

he looked at you with such pride in his eyes, it made your heart swell. “you’re incredible, you know that?”

you shrugged, trying to downplay your excitement. “i’m just doing what i love.”

“and you’re damn good at it,” he said firmly. “don’t forget that.”

it wasn’t long before you made that dream a reality. you secured a space in one of the city’s artisan districts, a small but beautiful shop where you could sell your creations and train apprentices in the art of jewellery making. the shop was an extension of yourself—chic, elegant, and full of the creativity that had always been a part of you.

soon, your shop became as well-known as sunghoon’s studio. the two of you were often talked about together, not as a couple who had run away from their old lives, but as two individuals who had built something remarkable side by side.

every piece of jewellery you created had its own story, just as every dress sunghoon designed had its own flair. and while you both supported each other’s work, neither of you relied solely on the other to define your success.

the life you had built together in sorina was not just about love—it was about the dreams you had both nurtured and the independence you cherished. you were more than sunghoon’s muse. you were a creator, a designer, a businesswoman in your own right.

as the sun set over sorina, casting a warm, golden glow across the city, you stood at the threshold of your jewelry shop, taking in the scene before you. the streets were alive with people bustling between vendors, artisans displaying their wares, and musicians playing softly in the distance. your heart swelled with contentment as you looked out over the life you had built, not just for yourself, but alongside sunghoon.

the sound of footsteps broke you from your thoughts, and you turned just in time to see him approaching. his face was illuminated by the setting sun, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he drew closer. even after all this time, your heart still skipped a beat whenever you saw him. there was something about the way he carried himself, the quiet confidence, the kindness in his eyes, that always made you feel safe and cherished.

"busy day?" he asked, his voice low and familiar as he stopped in front of you, his gaze warm.

you nodded, leaning against the doorframe with a soft smile. "busier than usual. i think word is spreading faster than i expected. what about you? how’s the studio?"

he chuckled, glancing back toward his own shop down the street. "same here. we might need to start hiring more help."

you laughed softly, and the two of you stood there for a moment, soaking in the peaceful atmosphere around you. the city was beautiful in the fading light, and for a brief second, everything felt perfect. but then sunghoon shifted slightly, his eyes locking with yours, and you saw something deeper flicker in them—something that had never fully disappeared.

without a word, he reached out, gently brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering just a little too long. the simple gesture sent a shiver down your spine, the air between you charged with an unspoken tension that had only grown stronger over the months.

“you’ve got a speck of something,” he murmured, his voice softer now, more intimate. “right here.”

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as his fingers lightly grazed your skin. “thanks,” you whispered, barely able to find your voice.

sunghoon didn’t pull away immediately. instead, he stayed close, his eyes never leaving yours. there was something different in his gaze tonight—something tender, yet intense. and as you looked back at him, you felt the weight of all the moments you’d shared, the quiet yearning that had simmered between you since the day you’d arrived in this city together.

“do you ever think about… everything?” he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the stillness. he didn’t have to explain further. you both knew exactly what he meant.

you swallowed hard, your heart racing. “i do,” you admitted quietly. “every day.”

his hand slipped down to your waist, tentative at first, as if testing the waters. but when you didn’t pull away, he drew you in closer, until your bodies were nearly touching, the warmth of his chest radiating against yours. you could feel the rise and fall of his breath, and it was intoxicating.

“i never imagined…” sunghoon’s voice was barely a whisper now, his lips close to your ear, sending another wave of shivers down your spine. “that we’d end up here. together.”

you leaned your forehead against his shoulder, closing your eyes as you took in his scent—so familiar and comforting. “me neither.”

for a long moment, you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, neither of you daring to move or speak. the world outside seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you, suspended in time.

and then, without warning, sunghoon pulled back just enough to tilt your chin up with his fingers, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“i love you,” he whispered, the words escaping him like they’d been held back for far too long. “i’ve always loved you.”

your heart stopped, the confession hanging in the air between you, heavy and undeniable. you had known it, felt it, but hearing the words out loud still sent a rush of emotion through you.

“i love you too,” you replied softly, the words coming out as naturally as breathing.

sunghoon smiled—a slow, tender smile that reached his eyes. and before you knew it, he was leaning in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was soft at first but quickly grew more passionate. it was as if all the years of longing, of unspoken feelings and missed opportunities, had finally culminated in this moment.

you melted into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer. his lips were warm and gentle, yet insistent, and you could feel the depth of his emotions in every touch. the world spun around you, but all you could focus on was him—the way his lips moved against yours, the way his hands held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

when you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, sunghoon rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet of the evening.

“i don’t want to wait anymore,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. “we’ve waited long enough.”

you nodded, your heart swelling with a sense of certainty you hadn’t felt in a long time. “neither do i.”

you smiled, feeling a deep sense of peace settle over you. the future felt bright, and for the first time, you could see it clearly—both of you, side by side, not just as lovers but as equals. you were no longer running away from the life you didn’t want. instead, you were running toward the life you had built together, filled with love, passion, and the promise of a beautiful tomorrow.

you weren’t just sunghoon’s muse. you weren’t just a girl who had fallen in love. you were a woman who had taken control of her destiny, and now, with sunghoon by your side, you were ready for whatever the future held.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

taglist: @punchbug9-blog @firstclassjaylee @capri-cuntz @addictedtohobi @jaysfavoritegirl (the rest will be tagged in the comments since tumblr is acting up again )

[ronearoundblindly]

No Promises (2)

Lloyd Hansen x rival assassin!Reader

Don't Be Blue, Bunny Boy (see previous or LH Masterlist)

Summary: Lloyd underestimates how dangerous you are when he finds you wrapped like a gift in his hotel room.

Warnings for smut, but it's Lloyd so there's a knife, a gun, name-calling, cursing, drugging, dubcon due to somno, two a**holes in competition, unprotected sex (honestly, just never do anything Lloyd would do, okay? great. excellent. good chat), and possibly the best banter I've ever written gdi. Darkfic...but, like, funny??? For the love of everything, MINORS DNI. I have plenty else for you on my Light Masterlist, but this is not for you! WC 2k 🫣

*This CT 2024 Challenge work can be read completely out-of-context from the rest of the mini-series (which isn't even written yet anyway, lalalahhhh).

It’s bad enough you took the keycard off that fat fuck of a target first, but failing to follow you smacks Lloyd’s ego in just the wrong way. By the time he gets back to his luxurious hotel room, he’s fuming and itching to shoot something. You don’t need to be a mind-reader to know this; the man is still a man, after all, no matter how trained and controlled he thinks he is.

That’s why you’re here, trussed up in a sapphire blue bodysuit, smirking at the irritation radiating off of your rival as his eyes rake the length of your mostly-bare figure.

“Darling,” you burst, posing like a ‘50s housewife by the armchair, playful and sickeningly sweet. “You’re home! I was so worried.”

Anger quivers his lip coat till he vaguely resembles a pouting porcupine. God, you hate mustaches. You’re willing to bet—if you really put your back into it—you could hump his face with such friction, it’d rub him smooth. There are less-worthwhile endeavors that you’ve completely only today. Why not experiment?

“You have some fucking nerve, bitch.”

Lloyd keeps his steps forward into the room slow and casual, though his ire is obvious. He stops halfway across the carpet, unzips his leather jacket, and tosses it onto the foot of the bed.

He seems surprised when you strut over without hesitation; he hasn’t handed over any weapons, but you haven’t asked for a reason. Lloyd’s reputation is cocky, commanding, and curious—in that order—so he won’t start speculating till it’s too late.

Indeed, what possible harm could you inflict wearing this lil’ ol’ thing, huh?

As you get closer, his hand reaches out instinctually.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you tsk in warning. “If you rip my lace, I will gut you like a fish. Understood?”

“Can’t make any promises, but…”

Lloyd, undeterred, clamps his hand between your legs and runs a finger through your folds, proving the crotchless lingerie isn’t in danger of typical snags.

The pad of his digit is rough and teasing.

“I think we can work with that,” he growls.

Oh yes, he’s definitely, perfectly, and predictably cocky. What fun you’ll have.

You make a show of gasping when he starts dipping two fingers into your heat, rolling your head as if truly undone by the minimal effort, and wait for him to watch his own ministrations, distracted.

Then you strike.

You grab his wrist, twisting harshly, yanking the arm behind him, straddling his shoulders so your legs pinch over his neck, and he turns slightly to nip at your thigh. You’re not surprised he still thinks he’ll win.

His steely eye winks as he looks up.

“Bet I can make you cum first.”

A dramatic sigh escapes you. You release his arm to sensually smooth your palm down his body, bending to whisper, “that implies I give a shit if you come at all.”

You fling yourself backwards, using the momentum to catapult him over you and into the side of the bed.

The mustache emphasizes his sneer when Lloyd pushes up on an elbow.

“I, too, like using a firm hand when breaking bitches’ spirits,” he mutters, reaching for his switchblade which you present instead, wiggling it in your hand with a grin.

“Oh, bunny boy, were you too firm to notice my gentle caress?” You deftly unlatch and expose the knife’s edge. “Now, strip.”

You tick the blade quickly for effect.

“Show me some skin so I can mark my two points so far. I know how you love to keep score.”

Lloyd rights himself, peeling his black turtleneck over his head and smoothing his hair into place calmly. “I can kill you just as easily naked as I can clothed.”

“Of course, cutie pie, and I’m counting on many little deaths.” You look at the knife in your hand, concerned. “Please tell me this isn’t the biggest weapon you're packing, or I’ll be so disappointed.”

He’s smug while unbuckling his belt and shucking off his pants. Lloyd Hansen now proudly stands stark nude.

You let your eyes go comically wide, but then your brow furrows and you shrug.

“You’re welcome to keep talking while I sit on your face, but otherwise… I’m unimpressed.”

Lloyd huffs with indignation.

“Fuck you.”

Like the footballer he used to be, he rushes you.

“Promise?” you coo, dodging him and landing a sharp smack to his butt cheek. It’s spectacularly sculpted, plump, and rock hard all at once.

“Oh my! Darling, you did not lead with your best asset…” You notice the faint scar on his pale skin and giggle. “Little prick got pricked, I see.”

Your amusement gives him a split second to grab you, and Lloyd uses the opportunity to shove you back into the window so violently the thick glass rattles its frame.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” he spits viciously, not so cocky as before.

“Isn’t that what I’ve been begging you to do for me, sweetheart?”

Mouth hanging open in a taunt, one hand strokes him, the other warns. The tip of the knife you still wield barely grazes the notch between ribs where you could swiftly puncture his lung. Lloyd watches, fuming and mesmerized, until you transfer the pooling saliva to your palm and resume jerking his cock.

“A firm hand really does make you harder, doesn’t it?”

That snaps him out of it.

He scrambles to bend you over that same armchair you started at, and Lloyd’s version of prep is a single, perfunctory dig of two fingers into your cunt.

To his credit, you are dripping wet for him, so, though his need to check before chaffing himself wasn’t necessary, he rewards you with a beautifully debauched moan as he sinks to the hilt with one thrust.

Lloyd’s got something to prove.

Good.

He’s so focused on groping around to your breasts beneath the stretchy lace that you stick the switchblade deep into the chair’s cushion and hold on; whatever else you’re doing is irrelevant to him. There is only fucking. There is only feeling as if he owns you in this moment.

You let out a high whine and goad him. “Love it when you’re gentle with me, sweetie.”

That earns you an unhinged snarl and the pummeling slap of his hips against your thighs.

He’s so easy to motivate, a majestic maniac on a mission to turn you stupid, if only until the stench of sex dissipates. If the idiot would just reach down to your clit, you’d spare him, but Lloyd is a man.

A selfish, egotistical princeling who’s a good marksman and a shit human. Good, for the business you two are in. But not as good as you.

You sigh like you’re bored, sinking your chin to rest on your outstretched arms.

He stops moving, grunting as he pulls out of you and snapping one of your shoulder straps.

“Fine. You wanna put in the work, sunshine? You go for it.” Lloyd flops onto the bed, face up, his arms spread wide and high.

Of course, he’s going for the gun under the pillow. You know it, you’ve anticipated it, and you decided it would be a nice safety blanket to leave him, to keep him feeling comfortable.

So you crawl on top of him anyway, rocking yourself against his cock for a few seconds before shifting higher. You giggle for emphasis.

You’re just here to fuck him. You’re just here to fuck with him. That’s the truth, and he knows it. Lloyd simply doesn’t know the conditions of both your releases…yet.

“Such a desperate slut,” he rumbles as you settle above his face.

Before you cover your view of him, you pinch at his jaw and smirk.

“Only munches wear a fucking mustache.”

His cheek gets a condescending pat when he smiles back.

He’s cute when he’s having fun, apparently.

Lloyd licks his lips and slowly lifts his head to swipe at your entrance. “You owe me that fucking keycard.” He delicately kisses your folds before his tongue darts out to circle your clit. “And I’ll get it from you one way or another.”

You can hear the rustle of his hand over the sheet. Not even a solid suck on your cunt, and he’s already going for the gun…

“Oh, come on,” you plead, ignoring his threat. “Finish your meal, champ. I know you can do it.”

His eyes narrow, peeking past your mound as he growls, gripping your thighs hard enough for you to collapse forward.

Sloppy. The best word to describe Lloyd eating pussy is sloppy. He contributes as much as you do to the glide of his whole face over every intimate inch of skin. Because you’re sitting with weight mostly on him—some of it still rests on your knees—each movement pushes his nose, lips, tongue, and stache around with enough fervor to polish your raw nerves.

Honestly, it’s a shame he ruins the moment by slipping his hand under the pillow and pressing the silencer's muzzle to your side.

Petulance dialed to maximum, you whimper, “you said I could come first!”

Your hand falls below your navel, clutching the lace like he’s already wounded you, and Lloyd proceeds to laugh right into your cunt.

He doesn’t have time to form a comeback once you peel the sheer, protective layer away from the patch of fabric a mere inch above the opening of the bodysuit. If he’d have paid any proper attention to you, he’d’ve found it, but he didn’t.

The fumes of chloroform-drenched cobalt engulf Lloyd in the suffocating proximity of the bed and your body. He has nowhere to go but under.

The gun falls away once his limbs go lax.

You sit directly on his chest for the few seconds it takes to realign the inner and outer barriers of your dainty, chemical warfare, then you shimmy off of him.

He actually looks quite peaceful this way.

His features are carefree, his broad, smooth chest rises and falls steadily, and his…

Well.

Lloyd’s dick lays erect and proud on his stomach, unfazed by unconsciousness. It’d be an even greater shame to waste that.

“It’s ok, peanut,” you whisper out of habit now, forced to imagine the twitch of his lip, the pop of the vein in his neck. “This is your chance to make it up to me.”

It’s not difficult to take him into your still-sopping core, and once you angle yourself to grind on the cut of his abs, all Lloyd’s previous buildup rushes back. His ass may be the star of the show, but his dick is no fluffer act. He’s packing enough to nudge at that perfect spot relentlessly as you ride him, and you openly mewl as you approach the height of your orgasm.

You imagine he’d say you sound so pretty and pathetic.

He’d probably ask if this is the best you can do, but that makes you fuck him harder until you crash into a wall of pleasure, sweaty, exhausted, resting against that broad chest.

You catch your breath after a short while, skin humming with excitement. Absently, your hands paw at his sides for a tiny bit of comfort.

That thought gets buried in a tense heartbeat, and you climb off the bed, pleased to notice the sheer amount of cum and his softening dick means he finished, too.

You’ll leave that as a souvenir.

The plan was to carve a little message on him—nothing that would permanently scar—but you can’t bring yourself to mar such a glorious ass. That would be akin to treason. Seriously, if he had simply walked around you in a bathing suit with that thing, you would have slipped the keycard into his waistband and thanked him for his service to your wet dreams.

A bit of dried cum smeared all over his pelvis and dripping down his balls, his useless pistol still in-hand, will do fine as a statement.

You clean yourself up, snatching your real clothes from the closet where you hung them tidily beside his own, and give a gentle grip to his immobile knee where it hangs off the bed.

“Sweet dreams, bunny boy. Maybe I'll let you win next time.”

[Next Part: I Left You Something On The Body]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

This work was written for the amazing and inspirational Cum Together Extravaganza hosted by @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420, but a special thanks to @buckymorelikefuckme for the earworm that would not quit. Poppy, you dark enabler you... I fucking love you!

Prompts: "Bet I can make you cum first." || Somnophilia || enemies-to-lovers || Characters A + B cum together at the same time

dividers by @/saradika-graphics (blue art deco) and @/cafekitsune

[badaboomx]

Tick, tick (Bada Lee x Fem!Reader)

PAIRING: Bada x Fem!Reader. SETTING: Part three of the SWF2 AU where Reader is a contestant. Previous part here. WORDS: 4k

ⓘ This one contains smut. Ah, I'm quite rusty but I hope you enjoy it anyways. Proceed with your own caution!

If people noticed before, you can only imagine what they’re saying about you and Bada now. 

The tension was evident, palpable and almost suffocating to those around you. A ticking time bomb that was too far gone to deactivate. It was only a matter of time before something happened. No one knew exactly what happened between the two of you, but they could just tell things had changed between the two of you. Your crew only knows you both had talked things, hugged and perhaps maybe almost kissed – but you didn’t tell them about the piping hot sexual tension. Yet, given the way you both were behaving with one another now, your crew was wondering if you told them the truth at all.

At first it was in the details that only those paying attention could catch. 

You both magnetically seemed to find each other closer in proximity now, both looking for the opportunity to interact and to see each other. In the very few times since Bada and you met, Bada opened doors for you, moved to give you space to walk past her, would visibly cheer for you or be hypnotized looking at you. You weren’t slacking at all either, taking some time to walk over to Bada during down time to fix her attire, her hair, any excuse to be up close to her and touch her before letting her go do her work. Her subtle smile was worth it every second, the soft gratitude she showed and the restrain she showed as to not touch you… God, something about that was so hot, like she was keeping a beast caged – and it made your imagination fly.

However, with the Mega crew mission and the subsequent mess after it, you and Bada would have your time cut abruptly short.

In a surprising turn of event, you and your crew landed on the bottom and had to fight your way to remain in the ranks. Until one of your crew members, your very leader, suffered quite the injury. An injury that pushed them out of dancing and that had forced all of you to forfeit your spot on the competition. Without your leader, you do not find it right to continue.

A noble way of bowing out, but bowing out nonetheless. You and the remaining members did cry for leaving such a great roster of talent behind, but such a big experience will not be easily forgotten. Engulfed in many hugs and drying many tears with a smile, your heart truly clenched tightly when you saw – among the mass of dancers – a towering figure looking at you.

Bada didn’t hesitate for a second, taking strides to get to you before anyone could drag you away, engulfing you in such a warm, comfortable hug. Tight, strong, desperate, and you made sure Bada knew you felt the same way by clinging to her, snuggling your head comfortably into her chest. You could feel the beating of her heart again, but you could also feel the bass of her voice as she spoke.

It was a vulnerable plea for you to not leave, not without saying goodbye. 

An interesting realization, this one. Beyond the tension and lust, you seemingly both realized in this abrupt separation that you both actually had far more to explore than just that. The magnetic pull you both felt for each other, dancing together so in sync, the instant connection… 

The world around you stood still or at least they let you have this moment with Bada, so no one heard when you responded. Only Bada could hear it.

Your leader was fine and in good spirits, the entire crew was making them company in the hospital room while visiting hours were still there. Among the heartfelt talk and the laughter to lighten up the mood, your sweaty palms and uneasy stance became the topic of conversation. What began as playful prodding soon turned into your leader connecting the dots sooner than later. 

“Aren’t you going to say Goodbye to her?” your leader whispered to you as the other members chatted amongst themselves and discussed how they felt during the fight. 

You looked at your leader a bit flabbergasted, but you soon shook your hand. “I don’t think we’ll be allowed to. After we’re done visiting, we have to pack up and leave–.”

“You WILL say Goodbye to her,” your leader corrected, pointing at you with that accusatory finger. “The girls can take care of me until visiting hours are done,” she paused, looking at the clock and noting there were still two hours left. “You go and say goodbye, sneak in if you have to.”

With that encouragement, your leader excused you and told you to prepare for packing and let the rest of the people know that she’s okay. The members looked a bit confused at first but then squinted, all at the same time. They would piece it together after you left the room and the leader gave them a shit eating grin.

In the desperate blinks of your eyes, you were in the building. After letting a few people know that your leader was alright and going to recover in the coming weeks, you excused yourself to go to your crew’s hideout, being told to pack up belongings and the sort.

You actually barged into your own hideout with intentions of leaving some stuff behind and going to find Bada but much to your surprise, when you barged in, Bada was standing there. Fist clenched, breathing a little labored, you were almost confused. 

“The security guard told me you came in,” Bada said, exhaling loudly. “I came here as soon as I heard.”

You couldn’t help but to giddily smile at that, making her smile that beautiful smile of hers in return. But none of you moved yet, the door behind you still open. You gave her the sign to wait, looking outside and seeing not a soul down the hall. Coast clear. When you closed the door behind you and locked it, you unlocked part of Bada’s caged beast with it.

It was as if she heard it and did not want to wait any longer, fast approaching you and pinning your body against the closed door with her own tall and sturdy body. The warmth of her body and the surprise already had you reeling and needing more, but she stopped there, eyes traveling between your eyes and your lips – holding back, waiting for your move. But with the way she was breathing, the way her eyes looked, the slightly parted lips that looked ready to devour you? You could tell Bada was almost overwhelmed by desire. 

Playfully, you placed a hand on her chest again and felt her heartbeat, rubbing with your thumb as you spoke. “I can almost hear you growl, you beast," you teased, tugging a smile out of her again. 

“Do you want me to?” Bada playfully replied, making you giggle and shake your head. Once the giggling softly faded, a curious fingertip of hers caressed your jaw, her thumb grazing your bottom lip, too. Relishing in the feeling, like wondering how they’d look swollen thanks to her. Then, she held your chin and did not wait a moment longer.

For the first time since you both started this cat and mouse game, you’ve kissed. Her lips like soft, sweet marshmallows against yours in what began as a chaste and innocent kiss. Within a moment it was engulfed in the flames of passion, both of you instinctively deepening the kiss almost instantly, then you let her lead this passionate waltz. You could hear her soft moans vibrating on her chest as the kiss kept going, as your hands slowly moved to wrap themselves around her neck – and you yourself could feel those unstoppable moans when Bada’s hands boldly traveled down from your hips to your butt, giving them an appreciative squeeze that drove you mad. But the surprise of her suddenly grabbing you by the thighs and lifting you to pin you against the door with an indiscreet thud was enough to make you gasp and pull away from the kiss. Bada was smirking, knowing it caught you off guard, and you could barely say ‘Oh my god’ before she leaned back in to kiss you with a fervor you’ve rarely felt before. This time, her tongue boldly made its presence known, rubbing against yours and wanting more, a heavenly sensation that sent goosebumps down your entire body. It was so wild, the way she suckled your tongue and smirked afterwards, the way she bit your lower lip and encouraged you to do the same, and once you did her moan was so ethereal that you felt like you were losing your mind. It stirred something within you that could only be described as primal, indomitable, and that you hoped Bada would take care of.

Wrapping your legs around her and holding on tightly, you braced yourself for when she pulled away from the kiss. Labored breath soon tickled your neck as she dove in with nibbles, kisses and licks – all with the passion of a woman who was pent up for more than a month since you both last danced together in this very room. You couldn’t help but to moan out her name, tangling your fingers in her soft hair. That seemed to please her, you could feel her smile against your skin as she kept on kissing and biting. As she did, too, she growled softly in between. 

“I need you so badly,” a pause, a kiss, a hand hungrily from your thigh up to your chest. “You’re driving me crazy, I can’t stop myself now.”

“You don’t have to stop,” you softly said, but it sounded more like a desperate plea for her to keep going until she was satisfied. 

And she would not stop indeed, lifting you back up in her arms and carrying you away from the door. You held tightly not out of insecurity that she might drop you, but because you didn’t want to get away from her for a second. Not when you felt yourself throbbing in agonizing need for Bada. She reached the couch and sat down, pulling you into her lap and not missing a beat to let her hands touch all over you with mad desire. Of your own volition, you got rid of that bothersome shirt of yours and let her relish on the feeling of your skin and the natural warmth of your body. To be gawked at like that by Bada, to watch her as she bit her lower lip looking at you like you were the greatest meal she could catch. It made you feel so…

“C’mere,” Bada softly said, holding you closer and diving into trail kisses from your collarbone down to your chest. With every kiss, she took her time, cherishing each inch of your skin like nothing mattered in the world more than worshiping you, sometimes even brushing her nose against your skin tenderly before diving back in. Slowly, her hands caressed your sides and traveled up your lower back, her face burying themselves between your breast and kissing every little spot she could put her lips on – humming in delight at the feeling, softly whispering sweet words. “These feel so fucking good baby,” with that soft tone that drove you crazy. 

Your hand caressed her head and you held her close, intimately close at that. She smelled good and soft, she felt so nice to hold against you, and she was every bit as romantic, passionate and detailed as she was in her dancing. Which only made you look forward to seeing her in action.

So, you wanted to set her off. When she pulled away, she looked up at her with lust-filled eyes and you didn’t hesitate to make the next move. Slowly but surely, you grinded your hips against Bada’s lap, hands resting on her shoulders to hold yourself steady. The moment you did she closed her eyes, bit her lower lip and tossed her head back – a growl came out of her and her hands gripped your hips. You swear you heard her mutter a curse even, which was admittedly an ego boost and it made you giggle. However, she seemed not to lose her mind just yet, so you dove down to that lovely neck of hers and licked a random spot that just happened to hit the spot for her, a guttural moan instantly drawn out of her and her grip on you became firmer. You  tickled that spot with soft kisses, brushing it delicately with your lips and the tip of your nose before delivering one swift bite to it that Bada couldn’t resist anymore. It was as if you almost felt the physical jolt run down her spine that made her hold you closer, made her moan a little louder and made her bold in her coming movements.

You had set her off, just like you wanted.

In the blink of an eye she had put you on your back, growled out a command for you to take off anything standing in her way, helping only after you’ve started doing so. You liked this, just as much as you liked the slow and romantic side of Bada, so you obeyed eagerly. Shoes off, trousers off and you were about to take your underwear off but Bada stopped you, moving to get between your legs. Before you could even question anything, her hand pressed against your clothed pussy and rubbed firmly but agonizingly slowly. By gods it felt so good, a mixture of relief and pleasure that made your body limp instantly, hips bucking against her hands as if to ask for more. 

That kind of response pleased Bada, tugging a smirk on her lips as she applied more pressure to her rubbing. “Look at you,” Bada softly tutted, shaking her head. “So wet and needy already, I can’t let you leave like this.”

Oh, this woman could drive you insane if she wanted to just by talking. You bucked your hips more against her hand, earning another firm and long rubbing but nothing more concrete than that. “Please, Bada,” you pleaded lowly, a whiny mess under her palm. 

With no words, Bada rubbed your tummy tenderly, as if to placate your desperation, leaning in to pepper some kisses around that area and slowly descending to your clothed pussy. Then, without more dilly-dallying, she stuck her tongue out and let you watch it for a second before dragging it across your wetness, from the bottom to the very top of it. Firmly pressed against you, agonizingly languid as she licked but still muffled by that thin, annoying fabric. Just a few times to get you all riled up and extra sensitive for when she finally got rid of that bothersome muffler. Just to catch you off guard though, she dove right back in. A long lick, accompanied by a moan of her own vibrating against your pussy that was all levels of tantalizing – you couldn’t help but to roll your eyes back, arch your back and cling to whatever you had near you. 

That woman had an appetite for you and it was evident by how relentless she was. She licked like she was savoring every little inch and enjoying the taste, over and over. One hand grabbed hold of the nearest cushion while the other landed on Bada’s head, instinctively pushing her head to keep going. But, you could barely keep her head in place once she started giving sharp suckles to your clit, alternating between that and caressing it and licking with her tongue. It was such an exquisite pleasure that shocked your entire body, tensing it up in a way where you felt like you had no control of your body for just a second. Yes, it felt like you were Bada’s favorite toy, but you were more cherished and worshiped than any toy you could think of. The way she delighted herself in tasting you, in finding the spots that made you react the loudest, the way she couldn’t stop moaning with every lick and every suckle. It was perfection. You had to muffle your moans with one of the cushions at this point, feeling like they were getting too loud for the walls to hold them in, and Bada was going to make sure to stretch this moment out as much as she could. Just as you felt that exquisite, warm knot forming in the pit of your stomach, Bada pulled away cruelly, leaving you with no contact and no relief.

You whined and Bada almost laughed, instead seeking to kiss your inner thighs lovingly. Between each kiss she spoke. “Shh, shh, I’m sorry,” a sweet, tender tone contrasted to that hungry beast from moments ago. 

She didn’t want it to be over, as much as you didn’t want it to be over. But the nagging in the back of each other’s mind was that at any moment they could be interrupted by producers, staff or even other dancers coming in to leave their goodbye letters. Gosh, you didn’t want this to stop, but… 

“Bada,” you breathlessly spoke, caressing her head. “Please just–,” a moan interrupted your sentence, as Bada trailed those kisses down back to your sensitive pussy, going back to sucking your clit so hungrily. It distracted you for a second, feeling a stronger wave of pleasure that was soon to build up. But you held strong, and battled to get your words out. “W-we don’t have a lot of time, Bada,” you gulped, grabbing a fistful of Bada’s hair as she hummed in acknowledgement. “I-I want you to come as we–.”

With a pop, Bada pulled away, drawing out a frustrated sigh even though you knew it was probably for the best if she wanted to talk. Such a conundrum you were in, huh? She looked so satisfied with herself though, licking her lips and wiping her chin and smiling at you. “I know, I know,” she started crawling up to meet face to face with you. “I just couldn’t resist you.”

Your ego couldn’t be higher at that moment. “I-I know, but we don’t have a lot of time left.”

“I’m going to be without you for god knows how long,” Bada said, getting up and beginning to take off her sweatpant and underwear. “I had to get as much as I could.”

In the blink of an eye, Bada was between your legs again. You clung to her hoodie as she hovered over you and aligned herself with you perfectly, eyes locked, lips hovering just small inches away from one another. You almost go for the kiss, but Bada starts to move those treacherously good hips of hers, her own wet pussy rubbing against yours. Finally, Bada’s moans and yours came out, unmuffled and together. A little too loud at first, but you both did your best to keep it down. You clung harder, grabbing two fistfuls of her hoodie and instinctively holding her close; Bada kept your trembling legs apart and in place for her to keep grinding, leaning down to your ear to let those restrained moans be heard only by you. Now Bada couldn’t start slow, already too excited to even command her body to go gently. It was like her passion became unrestrained bit by bit, starting at a moderate pace and growing firmer, harder and faster. 

In that moment Bada was stripped from her persona, her restraint, succumbing to her whims and desire for you. She moaned out your name, could barely make sentences – strung together by a thin line in between countless moans and gasps – and desperately held you in place. The rhythm and consistency in her luscious movement suddenly felt slightly erratic, like she was losing control over herself, and you could tell this was true by the way her moans were turning higher in pitch, no longer as subdued. The sheer feeling of Bada losing her composure like that, the feeling of her body getting warmer, her pussy getting wetter and growing more sensitive against yours, that alone was starting to get you closer to your orgasm. Instinctively, you pulled her and made her look at you into your eyes. You cherished that look on her eyes, you let her see yours, before you both leaned in. Lips clashed sloppily, clumsily, tongues clashing frantically as Bada’s hips moved faster. Faster. Faster. 

Until both of you threw each other over the edge, unable to continue kissing each other, unable to stop digging your nails into each other’s skin, with Bada being unable to keep a more consistent pace as she came. In that moment, brief but so stretched out in your perception, Bada’s back arched a bit and her parted lips could only gasp out your name helplessly, taken over by such cathartic pleasure. You couldn’t even coherently call out for her, not as the highest of high kept both of you completely and totally out of your minds.

Then it started to descend, nice and easy, and just like that both of you limply embraced each other. The room, once filled with gasps and moans, now was quiet with some panting here and then. Not a sound could be heard outside, not one single distraction. Just you and Bada coming down from such a mindblowing high.

After a few moments, Bada lifted her head from the crook of your neck, whimpering at the feeling of her oversensitive pussy rubbing against yours at her own movement. You chuckle at it and she smiles, giddily, lifting her body up for a second. “Y’okay?” she slurred her words a bit.

You could only nod, still clinging to her hoodie. “You?”

Bada exhaled loudly with a smile, nodding. “That was so good.”

You giggled, placing a hand on her chest. There it was, her heart resting easier, her smile making your own heart skip a beat. What privilege to be able to feel her like this, to see her smile like that, to watch her take your hand and kiss it lazily. But before you could even say anything, your phone’s alarm went off. Signifying visiting time was over and that you had to begin packing things up. Without saying a word, you and Bada got up and dressed up hastily. Frankly, a rather chaotic scene that made the both of you laugh while doing so. Especially when you still felt like jelly and Bada had to stop you from falling over when your legs still trembled. 

At one point, the handle of the room rustled, giving you the sign that your crew was here. Bada looked at you with wide eyes, unsure of where to even hide herself. But you merely told her to stay there as you opened the door. Your crew was… surprised, but they didn’t make a fuss, only smiling and greeting Bada – ignoring that Bada and you were still pretty red in the face and… lightly panting.

Bada bid her farewells with everyone cordially, they didn’t say a thing, but when it came to you…

“You better win this,” you told Bada, keeping yourself in check even though you wanted to climb on her and hug her like a koala.

Bada nodded. “I will,” and she started to walk away.

Then she stopped.

You were confused, until you saw her turn around and walk back to give you a simple but fervid kiss right in front of everyone. The sweet taste of a lustful affair still fresh on those marshmallow lips, that alone made you blush more. But the boldness of it, how it seemed that she was no longer hesitating, that was everything.

The kiss was over even though you both were reluctant in stopping it. You both shared a complicit smile and she finally walked away, perhaps with a new found vigor and inspiration.

You were left with your crew mates and the moment you turned around, their faces looked priceless. You didn’t have any explaining to do, letting that kiss tell them everything they needed to know.

“Alright, let’s pack.”

[blushblushbear]

Hey, I was wondering if you create headcannons for the Blush Blush boys. If so, I was wondering 👀

Can you describe how any of the immortal characters (Stirling, Seth, Reece?, Aki, Haru, Fuyu) would react if their SO/MC/Love interest reincarnates after they die of old age for example?

I’m a huge fan of reincarnation x immortal stuff, cause it gives off a happy ending and hope that their love will never die even if they’re reborn in a different time💖

I wanna start at the top by saying I think all of them freak out at least a little bit when they see their long dead lover seemingly up and alive again

I'll get into each one individually but needless to say, it's a bit of a shock to the lot of them

also I did a thing about The Immortals dealing with your death (that I will but a link to here later but right now I can't be bothered to shift through my many bullshit posts to find it atm OOPS SORRY)

(ps: love your stuff btw!!! <3 )

STARTING OFF

Stirling:

I think he's gone through this too many times and loves the drama of it all too much to ever have him claim that he will never love again after you (at least not forever)

but suffice it to say he doesn't think he'll ever have a love like you again in any of his life times worth of living he has left to get through

he also didn't become a vampire to kick the bucket quickly nor does he think he'll be headed in the same direction as you when he eventually does so he's in no particular hurry to 'follow you' as it were

so he has made his peace with forever longing for you and eternally mourning your passing a little bit all the time

until one day he happens to spot

well

you

I mean it can't be you but he knows that face

he knows that body

that aura, that smile

it's definitely you

your face was probably in the crowd at one of his competitions

he did loose points for how he fumbled when he clocked you

(but he still won don't get it twisted)

I think the moment his routine is done he b-lines it to his dressing room then directly to go find 'you'

he does find you in a crowd and nervously and suddenly asks if you'd like to go for dinner with him

like

now

right now.

how bout it??

you tentatively say yes and you two end up having the most awkward dinner of either of your lives

he's trying so hard not to flip out cause it's definitely you but also it can't be

can it????

BUT YOU WERE DEAD

he slowly begins to romance you

the new you

which is a lot like the old you

I think he's the handsome yet mysterious man who is romancing you and he doesn't fully let anything slip until one night you stay over and you find a painting of what is definitely but also so not you on the wall

cue him finding you staring at it and accidentally scaring you

only to calm you down then explain the whole sorted mess

and how he believes you are the reincarnation of his lover

I think no matter what there's going to be some push and pull moving forward

he has to decide if he loves you or just the idea of you that acts as some theoretical replacement for his great dead love

will there be a happy ending??

will love prevail??

can love continue on even after death??

only time will tell...

but he does not intend to give up on you that easily...

Seth:

you being reincarnated is actually his doing

against his best laid plans, you didn't end up in hell with him when you died

I think he could only stand it for a few months before he called in a favor and got your soul entered into the reincarnation program

that DOES mean he'll have to wait 18+ years to even attempt to make a move

and also that you won't remember him

or much if anything of your previous life

which means there's a 50/50 toss up that you'll be happily taken when he can actually find you again

he doesn't watch over you as you grow cause that's too creepy

but he does put some lesser demons/spirits to keep an eye on you and keep you safe

he doesn't want to have to start this process all over again

nor does he know how many otherworldly favors he can rely on for this

I think he 'randomly' bumps into you one day when you're old enough and he starts flirting and asks you out

I think whether or not he tells you about the whole deal will depend on how things play out

he doesn't necessarily see the need to but on the other hand

maybe it's worth you knowing

also it's the biggest romantic move he ever pulled

also honesty is nice in a relationship

but all in all it's just nice to have you back again

where he can see and hold and kiss you

also he probably had to call in a favor just to get to the mortal realm in the first place

idk he's burning a lot of big favors for this meet cute to go down but it's worth it

Reece:

I think with Reece it's less of a reincarnation and more an alt time line version of you

one where you never met and you got to live your life without it being crash landed into by a space traveling cat boy

I think at first he meant to keep his distance

you're not HIS you after all

but he couldn't help but watch you just

exist

for a bit

he missed you

and I think one thing lead to another and he ended up bumping into you and you gave him that cute smile and he didn't mean to but he heard himself asking you for coffee before he could give it a second thought

and then before he could give it a second word you had said yes

and then he was just over come with joy cause you said yes to a date so excitedly and quickly

it all kinda just

happened

I think you have a wonderful first date and he spends most of it working up the courage to tell you everything and also just enjoying the date

but towards the end of it he finally fesses up

you guys had done all this before

well, a different version of you in another timeline/universe

but all the same

he has already gone down this road

and now he's just doing it again cause it's hard for him to stay away from you

but you are gone

were gone

are

in his version of things anyway

and this was fun but maybe...

maybe it should end here

one last night

where he got to tell you goodbye

(with a kiss)

but this is Definitely Not Dr Who bby--- something crazy happens at the end and the goodbyes are put on hold while you two go on Just This One crazy space adventure (that is totally not just this one lol)

CUE THE DOCTOR WHO THEME BEING PLAYED ON THAT CAT PIANO!

Aki:

OOO BOY IS THIS DUDE IN DENIAL

no grace, no decorum, no hesistation

he sees your face in a crowd and runs up and hugs you and begins to tear up as he says how much he missed you

meanwhile you are in the iron grip of big excitable fox man (time has past since your death and he's grown some) whom you definitely don't know and also he's calling you bunny

you try to tell him he's got the wrong person sorry

BUT HE IS HEARING NONE OF IT

cue him telling you all about your lives together and talking you to the home of the autumn clan and doing anything and everything to desperately rejog your memories

if you do get your memories back then commence Aki's great romance two electric boogaloo

but if you can't then he will get so heart broken

he'll ask you to still stay

let him learn the new you

let him show you the him you forgot

let him love you again

please don't leave him

(if you do decide to leave low key Aki will follow you and try to check in on you from time to time)

(if not out right sneak stalk you)

(please accept his feelings reincarnated love-chan)

Haru:

shocked, stunned, shook

he sees your face from across the bar and he can't believe it

like actually he can't believe it

he ends up staring for a really long time

then he's just watching you from different spots around the bar

getting better looks at different angles

keeping the biggest eye on you and drinking you in

yep

it's definitely you

but it can't be

they must just look like you

a lot like you

like exactly

must be a distant relatives

genetics are crazy

or maybe you had a love child...???

NO.

no no no no

you were Haru's loyal mate until the day you died

you wouldn't

and even if you did, you def would've invited him to the threesome

(one of the reasons he loved you so much)

whatever

he must be so drunk out of his mind and crazy lonely that he's seeing shit

whatever, they're hot and he could use a you substitute in his bed (not like he's had many people in his bed after you anyway-- too heart broken)

so fuck it, fuck them (like, in the sex way not the angry way)

so he goes up and starts hitting on them and when they turn around

oh no

they're definitely you

right down to the look they're giving him

I won't lie, he panics and bolts

he can't stop freaking out about last night all the next day

so he goes to that bar again and low and behold there you are again

Haru can't tell if he's relieved or more panicked by that

but still he has to dig some more

so he goes back over, trying the whole time not to absolutely loose it

gives you some line about being overcome by your beauty which is why he left in a panic haha

but seriously he'd love to get dinner with you sometime, here's his number, give him a call

oh also what's your name

he again can't tell if he's happy or freaked when you do actually call

he spends the whole dinner gently prying for info and just generally vibe checking to see if they're like his dead lover

and they really are

they definitely look it

and thus begins Haru's new torment of being so fucking CONFLICTED

he's so freaked that it's like you're alive again but also so happy to have you by his side

I think there's a lot of push and pull until he spills the beans

and then even more after he does

this is about to be the messiest relationship of Haru's life

which is saying something

BUT HE CAN'T NOT, IT'S YOU

Fuyu:

Fuyu bumps into you by chance and he's the most torn up about it of the lot of them

and visibly so too, he can't hide his feelings on this even a little bit

I think he is the quickest to tell you the whole thing

and also he calls you by the name of your past life (which may or may not be your name now)

he really does believe you are his heavenly gift sent back to him because your love is so fated

he takes some time getting used to

it's actually funny, this is the exact opposite of who you two were the first time

he's so unbelievably open to you from the word go

he bares his heart and feelings so much

you look so much like yourself before you left him, he can't help it

you were his safe place that he let all his walls down around

he can't put them back up now

his heart is beating open and bloody for you

he doesn't try and play it cool, he doesn't beat around the bush

he let's you know who you were to him

ARE to him

and asks you to be his once again

steam rolling you with love

and then waiting 'patiently' (not patient, he's sitting by like a puppy who wants a bite of your food) for you answer

it's quite a situation you find yourself in, isn't it

[magicpumpkin3]

Hyped cheerleader x Boys

Characters: Floyd Leech, Leona Kingscholar, Jamil Viper, Riddle Rosehearts

Note: I saw it in my fever dream

Floyd Leech

The utter child like happiness

He is so hyped that not only did you show up for the game, but also chear for him like there's no tomorrow. Standing there, covered in his team's merchandise, while holding a board with his name written on it with different bright colours and bunch of glitter, practically screaming on top of your lungs, whenever he earns a score.

When his attention snaps away from the basketball court to you, Floyd waves at you, with the most goofiest grin. You just make him so happy Shrimpy, he can't help it even if it costs them a few points.

During the time out, others sit and relax, but not Floyd, he has a hugging session to attend to. Boy will squeeze you in his arms, giggling like a teenage girl from 2010th TV show, while rocking back and forth on his heels, occasionally nuzzling his cheek into your face.

At one point, when he scores a point for his team, Floyd will yell "for the Shrimpy!" With his arms in the air, while looking you dead in the eyes with the most mischievous grin possible.

Leona Kingscholar

The smuggest anyone has ever seen him.

Who would be so hyped about a chess championship? Leona's herbivore would. While the game lasts they sit quietly, covered in Savanclaw like colours, with a huge banner with Leona's face on it, admittedly sometimes practically vibrating with excitement with attempts to hold their inner beast back not to distract one specific lion.

But as soon as Leona says checkmate it's game over for silence. Leona sits pridefully, arms crossed over his chest, looking down at his defeated opponent. Smug smile speeding across his face, like butter on a toast. While on the background his herbivore jumps in excitement, waving the banner, while pridefully announcing, how awesome he is.

When it's a break time, he'll lay down on your lap and listen to your praises. Smiling and looking at you with one eye closed and another slightly opened, when you go quite. What's the matter herbivore? Lion got your tongue?~

Leona will take this secret to his grave, but he feels flustered by this. Just a tiniest bit. Your bright eyes and wide smile do things to his heart, that the said organ isn't supposed to experience.

Jamil Viper

Second hand embarrassment.

Now, he appreciates your dedication to him and your full support, but Great Seven, that's an over kill. Jamil is so flustered whenever he's looking your way, he can hardly focus on the game itself. He is fighting Gods and spirits above not to throw the ball at you, for yelling his name so loud every time he was about to score.

One thing if it were just you, but somehow you decided to recruit Kalim into your master plan! This poor man is dying from the embarrassment.

Even though he feels extremely flustered and embarrassed, he actually likes how excited you're. The way your eyes lit up, the way you bounce around with banner in your hands, Jamil likes the fact that it's all because of him, he makes you feel this way and no one else. But he'll still talk to you about your impulse control, or rather lack of it.

During the breaks, he'd walk up to you and try to emphasize how your cheering distracts other players, only to be rudely interrupted by half of his team saying that they find your couple adorable. Jamil is going to murder them.

Riddle Rosehearts

First hand embarrassment.

This man will win this horse riding competition just for this to be over. Riddle appreciates the enthusiasm, but oh my Sevens, so help him. He is so red, that some people think that someone eat his tart again and he's fumed by his rage to the point where it helps Riddle to win round after round.

As much as he likes your... dedication, Riddle will talk to you in between the breaks. Yes, he'll be flustered and awkward about it, because secretly, he enjoys it a lot, but Riddle will still ask you to dail it back. But of course it holds you back only for a small amount of time, so the cycle shall repeat over and over again, and each time your beloved boyfriend shall be reder then the previous one.

Even though he is embarrassed and flustered almost to a critical point, each time he does something ‘incredibly’ Riddle will glance in your direction. Your cheers and excited expression fill him with determination to the limit, Riddle never had anyone, who’d be so happy and proud to be associated with him so much, so Rosehearts plans to make it all more memorable for you too.

[chiriwritesstuff]

Meet Me at the Farmers Market! 2. - Wager

Farmers Market! Joel Miller x Confident! Plus Sized F! Florist Reader

Previous Chapter │ Series Masterlist

Series Summary: What does a Contractor do in his spare time? Sell his wood carvings at the Saturday Farmers Market, of course! A Grumpy x Sunshine Joel Miller series collective of one shots, Updates every Saturday!

Rating: M

Warnings: Jealous! Joel Miller, Tommy is a meddling little shit, Reader likes to ogle her too-hot market neighbor (I mean, who wouldn't?!) no outbreak! Verse Joel Miller, Friendly wagers between vendors

Summary: When it's a slow day at the market, Tommy suggests a wager between Joel and Sunflower. Which of our two idiots makes a move first?

A/N: Another day in the life of Joel and Sunflower a few days early? YES PLEASE! Hope y'all enjoy!

This story takes place before the events of Pt. 1 - Jealousy, Jealousy.

Banner & Dividers by @saradika

"It's been real quiet today. How are you holding up, Miller?" you ask, your voice laced with genuine concern.

"Not great," he grumbles, his frustration almost tangible.

You gaze at your table of carefully arranged flowers, a hint of disappointment flickering across your face. "I was hoping to have sold at least half of these by now," you admit, absently tweaking a vase.

A scoff echoes from across the way. "That's a tad optimistic," he teases with a playful smirk.

You shoot back with a playful glare, your eyes twinkling mischievously. "Oh, like you're doing any better, Miller. I don't see your woodland critters flying off your table this morning."

Joel grumbles, a hint of self-deprecation in his voice. "Well, they do eventually find their way home," he drawls, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "Today's just not our lucky day, that's all."

You can't help but laugh, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Right, keep telling yourself that, Miller. Maybe the critters need a bit more of your southern charm today."

"Right, it's not like you use your…" he gives you a pointed look, "assets to give you a leg up in sales," he replies, a playful glint in his eye. "I haven't seen someone wink so damn much at the farmers' market."

You roll your eyes dramatically, unable to suppress a teasing grin. "Oh, please, Miller. A little charm never hurt anyone. Besides, a wink here and there adds some flair to the whole flower-selling business. You should try it sometime."

He lets out a mock sigh, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "I'll leave the winking to you, flower whisperer. Maybe those woodland critters need a secret handshake."

You both share a laugh, the tension from the slow day momentarily forgotten as the playful banter lightens the mood in the market.

"Well, well, well," Tommy suddenly interjects, breaking through the tension as he puts his arm around your shoulders, casting a mischievous grin at his brother. "Seems like today's been a bit lackluster, huh? Sunflower's table barely made a dent, and she would have been mostly sold out by now."

You playfully nudge Tommy, a smile tugging at your lips. "Easy there, Tommy. We're all feeling the slow vibes today, aren't we?"

Joel grumbles in agreement, a hint of grumpiness in his voice. "Yeah, it's been unusually quiet. Even the critters seem to be taking a snooze on the job."

Tommy's eyes light up with an idea. "I've got it! How about a little friendly competition? A wager on who can sell out first—Sunflower's beautiful blooms or Joel's charming critters. Winner gets bragging rights and a week of free lattes on the loser!"

You exchange a knowing glance with Joel, a competitive spirit rising within you. "You're on, Tommy. Get ready to be buying those lattes," you declare, a playful determination in your voice.

Joel grumbles, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You better start practicing your sales pitch, Sunflower. Those lattes are going to be mine."

As the challenge intensifies, you notice Joel maintaining his grumpy demeanor, even as he turns on his charm with the ladies passing by. A pang of jealousy tugs at your heart, but you can't help but find his attitude endearing.

Joel grumbles at Tommy's playful antics, shooting a grumpy glare at his brother. He then turns his attention back to you, a hint of mischief in his voice. "Seems like you're getting quite cozy with my brother there, Sunflower. I might have to step up my game."

You feel a blush rising to your cheeks as you retort, "Oh please, Joel. You're the one who can't resist winking at every customer. I think you're just worried your charm might not work on everyone."

The banter continues as the friendly competition fuels a vibrant energy in the market, drawing more attention to both your stalls.

Joel grumbles playfully, a glint of competitiveness flickering in his eyes. However, as the day goes on, it becomes increasingly clear that Joel is not trying as hard as he could be. He finds himself unable to maintain his grumpy facade, particularly as he admires your dedication and passion. A sense of warmth grows inside him despite his best efforts.

As the afternoon sun begins to dip, your table starts to see more traffic, with customers drawn in by your infectious enthusiasm. Joel, on the other hand, has only managed to sell a few of his critters.

With a knowing smile, Joel arranges his remaining critters with a touch of playful annoyance, giving you an opportunity to shine. As the market comes to a close, you find your table nearly empty, a clear victory in sight.

"Congratulations, Sunflower. Looks like you've won," Joel says, offering you a genuine smile. "You deserve it. Seems like your… assets,” he motions to your unbuttoned flannel, a tease of your cleavage peeking out, you thank the stars god decided to bless you with your curves, “Really worked in your favor," he teases as he openly looks at your chest, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

You feel a rush of joy and relief, realizing Joel's subtle gesture. "Thank you, Joel. Your critters are amazing too, you know. We make quite the team, don't we?"

As the market comes to a close, the two of you share a quiet moment, the lingering warmth in Joel's gaze making your heart flutter with newfound hope. You notice a subtle shift in Joel's demeanor, as if he's holding onto something unsaid.

With a playful smile, you begin to pack up your remaining flowers, unable to shake off the feeling that Joel had been taking it easy on you. As you glance over at him, you raise an eyebrow and ask, "So, Joel, feeling generous today or just letting the lady have her moment of glory?"

Joel lets out a grumpy chuckle, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Well, Sunflower, a gentleman always knows when to let a lady shine. It's all in the spirit of chivalry, you see."

You feign a dramatic gasp, a playful glint in your eyes. "Oh, chivalry, huh? Well, I'll have you know, I'm not one to shy away from a fair competition. Next time, you won't be so lucky!"

Joel grins, a teasing glimmer in his gaze. "I'll be ready for you, Sunflower. No more Mr. Nice Guy. You'll have to earn that victory fair and square, just you wait."

You chuckle, a newfound lightness filling the air between you. "Oh, I'll be ready, Joel. And when I win, I expect you to be the one buying those celebratory lattes. Deal?"

Joel's grumpy laughter joins yours, the sound of it carrying a newfound sense of camaraderie and something more. "You've got yourself a deal, Sunflower. But don't be too confident. I might surprise you yet."

As the two of you pack up your stalls and the market starts to empty, Joel approaches you, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Say, Sunflower, how about we celebrate your victory with a dinner at the barbecue joint in town? My treat, of course."

You can't help but grin at his invitation, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him. "I'd love that, Joel. It'll be the perfect way to end this eventful day."

With a nod and a wider smile, Joel tips his hat and heads off to fetch his truck, leaving you with a fluttering heart and anticipation for the evening ahead.

[hisui-dreamer]

ode to the poison apple

Pairing: Epel Felmier x gn!reader

Synopsis: the more you find out about him, the more you find yourself enthralled by him.

Tags: drabble, fluff, slightly poetic hehe, reader is a simp for epel, bot proofread

Word count: 606

Notes: Happy birthday Epel! such a lovely family-loving guy who's proud of his hometown🥺

Masterlist

Your lover is like a painting, a work of art that you can't help but admire. You love the delicate, porcelain-like texture of his fair skin, and the way his lavender hair cascades like a waterfall, framing his face in a surreal aura. His eyes are like the ocean on a calm day, a light blue that glimmers with a soothing energy. You find yourself mesmerised every time you stare at him.

Your lover has a unique hobby of sculpting apples and wood. He spends hours perfecting the curves and shapes of his sculptures, bringing life to the lifeless materials with his skilled hands. When he sculpts apples, he carves intricate designs and patterns into the fruit's skin, transforming them into miniature works of art. When it comes to wood, he carves beautiful figurines and shapes that are inspired by nature and its various forms. His passion for sculpting is evident in the detail and precision that goes into every piece he creates, and it is a joy to watch him bring his visions to life. 

Your lover's speech is like a symphony, a beautiful melody that you can't help but be entranced by. At first, it's a soft-spoken tune, a gentle rhythm that lulls you into a peaceful state. But as he becomes more invested, his Harveston accent starts to blossom, like a flower in full bloom. You find yourself captivated by his every word, savouring the way he pronounces certain words, and the unique rhythm of his speech. It's like music to your ears, a beautiful harmony that resonates deep within your soul.

Your lover is someone who deeply cares for his family and hometown, and has an unshakable connection to the culture of his roots, taking pride in his hometown's traditions and festivals and speaking fondly of them. He regularly assists his family with tasks and chores, showing his love and support in any way he can. His devotion to his family and community is a testament to his character and demonstrates the extent of his care for the people and places that helped shape him into the person he is today.

Your lover appears akin to a gentle breeze, calm and serene. Yet underneath the surface, there's a fierce competitive spirit that burns like a wildfire. His charm is a weapon, his competitive nature a driving force, and his dainty demeanour a captivating mystery. His short temper is like a storm, brewing in the distance, ready to unleash its power.

Your lover is a force to be reckoned with, fierce and unyielding, with a competitive streak that sets him apart. His will is like iron, unbreakable and resolute, driving him forward no matter the obstacles in his path. You are in awe of his unwavering determination to face challenges head-on, never backing down in the face of adversity. His unrelenting spirit is a thing of beauty, inspiring you to be better and do better every day.

You love every moment you spend with him, like a treasure trove of precious gems, each one shining with its own unique brilliance. Even when he's quiet and reserved, there's an energy in the air that hums with the promise of something great. And when he's loud and boisterous, it's like a bonfire that warms your soul. He challenges you to reach new heights and encourages you to be your best self, like a farmer who tends to his crops with care and patience. With him by your side, you feel like you can conquer the world.

You love how he puts you first, like a knight who guards his queen with unwavering loyalty. He is your rock, your shield, and your champion. You are grateful to have him in your life, and you are determined to love and support him in any way possible, just as he has loved and supported you. Your love for him is unwavering, and you cherish every moment you spend with him, knowing that he has captured your heart in a way that no one else ever could.

Your lover, is none other than Epel Felmier.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[ifjgh]

Second, is everyone's favorite Japanese Jock, Manzo Tsuyoshi.

Here's some basic info! <3

Goes By: Manzo Nicknames: Monzo, The Ox DOB: Oct. 21st, 1955 Age: 22 (until his B-Day) Gender: Male, but isn't too picky on his pronouns (He/Him/They/Them) Sexuality: Bi/Pan Ethnicity: Japanese Occupation: Student (Health and Medicine Major), Two Possible side-jobs, Leading Quarterback for the Football/Soccer Team Socioeconomic Status: Lower-Class, got in collage due to a sports scholarship Place of Birth: Kyoto, Japan Family: Younger sister, Loving Mother and Father who try their best for their son like working extra jobs to pay for the things he and his sister needs Height: 6'8” Weight: 240 lbs. Disabilities: None (?) Possibly being a bit too big for things. Fashion Style: Jock Up Top, Biker Down Below, Colorful Coordination (or lack thereof): Out on the field in a game, extremely coordinated and in his element, off the field, bull in a China shop and not really spatially aware Personality Type/Trait: Campainer - Enthusiastic, Creative, Free Spirited, Can always find a reason to Smile, Energetic, Aggressive, Self-Assured Introvert/Extrovert: Major Extrovert, total Party Bro, will go to anything he's invited to and anything he's not Intelligence: Below Average, if it's not a subject related to sports, he'll know next to nothing about it and he'll probably never will, usually get's help from Attilio's tutoring, but even then he still gets barely passable grades, very air-headed Self-Esteem: At a good place, he loves being the big guy on campus, but he's usually not a braggart about that, but he might brag a little bit about being the best on the Football/Soccer Team though, which is more then earned Hobbies: Sports (watching, playing, talking about, whatever), Making friends, riding and taking care of his motorcycle (she's named Mayumi, btw), supporting and helping others Skills/Talents: Strongest of the Main 8, Courageous and will never back down from a bet, can get any vehicle working to it's best potential (aka excellent mechanic), is a great cook (learned from parents so he could cook for his sister while they worked) Loves: Mayumi, Football/Soccer, Car Magazines, Pranks Morals/Virtues: Courageous, Fairness, Respect, Humility, Loyalty, Generous, Family Phobias/Fears: Being seen as weak, nerd, or a “chicken”, flunking out of collage, crashing Mayumi, Bugs Angered By: Genuinely Mean People, Others being taken advantage of, people touching Mayumi Pet Peeves: Being told what to do more then once, bland food Obsessed With: Mayumi, Sports, Cars Bad habits: Not listening when he needs to, Zoning out in general, Being a bit too pushy Desires: To prove how strong he is and help as many people as he can Flaws: Always looking for his next “battle” to win, kinda dumb Secrets: He's constantly worried about his family back home, and works extra hard at his jobs to so he can send a little bit of money back home each month. He'll never let his worry show, no one is allowed to worry about him either, but he knows he can't hide it forever. Doesn't have a legal license to drive Mayumi (He's got a legal license back home in Japan, but not here in the States) and he probably never will. Regrets: Not being able to support his family as much as he “feels” he should. He wishes he wasn't so dumb and could pay attention in class more. Accomplishments: Star quarter Back for the Football/Soccer Team, has won a few Strong-Man competitions here and there Languages Known: Fluent in Japanese and has decent English, and has picked up on some Italian (From being Attilio's roommate, it's mostly swear words) and a little bit of Gaelic (From hanging out with Patty)

(Things are subject to change the more I get things fine tuned, I've also kept some things secret for the time being. - Crow <3)

Bonus! Basic Profile Sheet, for funsies! X

[halotopicecream]

𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲!𝐀𝐭𝐳 𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐅𝐭: Poly!Ateez x fem!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, crack

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fluffy, polyamorous relationship, mention of insomnia

𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐨’𝐬 𝐅𝐀𝐐: and hereessssss… my first post on tumblr that I really put thought into! Hurray! I hope whoever reads this has a lovely day/night♡︎

In you morning you don’t even use an alarm… because Jongho will always do you the pleasure of belting whatever song comes to mind to wake you up

When you ask Mingi to grab something off of a high shelf for you, he looks down at you with those big puppy dog eyes and says “you need me?”🥺

Seonghwa took the title of blanket boyfriend because he was always the one to throw himself over you like one

He gets pouty when anyone else does it and takes his well earned position

He gets pouty when anyone else does it and takes his well earned position

Hongjoong had made it a habit to have his hand resting on your knee whenever he sits next to you

You, San and Wooyoung are the official protect Yeosang squad who protect his cuteness and faint when he does something hot

When Yunho catches you staring at his hands he shoves them in your face and pushes you face back and starts singing ‘how you like that’

San went through a vampire phase and to this day he still bites you for no reason

WHEN YOU’RE SAD JONGHO PUTS ON A TEDDY BEAR COSTUME AND LETS YOU CUDDLE HIM FOR HOWEVER LONG YOU WANT

You don’t know what to wear out? Easy, just ask Hongjoong he’s literally already sitting in your room

When you guys play hide and seek Yeosang always hides in your closet. You don’t know why but he always says it’s because it’s so messy no one will look there

But it’s really bc he likes the way you smell

Doesn’t matter what hair type you have, Seonghwa can AND WILL braid your hair

He’ll watch hour long tutorials if he has too

You spend so much time with Yunho when your allergies are acting up he things you gave him your allergies

You two even sneeze in sync… it’s weird

San’s that bf that will sit in a pool with you for hours just so he has an excuse to grab your bikinied ass in public saying he’s ‘holding onto you so you don’t drown’

YOU AND MINGI DO MORNING STRETCHES TOGETHER EVERY MORNING BEFORE THEY LEAVE FOR THE STUDIO🥺

Wooyoung has molded you into being his partner in crime and you cannot get out without him pouting

When Yeosang and Jongho find a book they think you’d like to read with them you all sit in your bed and read it together when you have time🥺

Yeosang blows out your birthday candles if you start taking to long

WHEN HONGJOONG STARTS FEELING POSSESSIVE HE SWITCHES YOU BODY WASH TO HIS SO YOU SMELL LIKE HIM AND ANYONE WHO’S NOT ONE OF YOUR BF’S WILL KNOW YOU’RE HIS

You and Mingi bought a pair of those magnetic rings so instead of holding hands in public you hold each other’s pinkie finger and let the rings stick to each

Yunho always asks for your opinion of his dance to a new choreo so he has always had an honest opinion

Someone once asked if Jongho was your body guard instead did your bf and now he takes great pride in that

You always walk arm in arm with him instead of hand in hand

When any of them are stressed you all get into a big cuddle pile and watch stupid comedy movies to lift their spirits

You and Seonghwa are the breakfast squad

Aka you’re the only ones allowed in the kitchen alone

Wooyoung bumps his hips into yours whenever you bend over so make you stumble, and if you actually fall he starts feeling bad and babies you the rest of the day

When you’re upset with him San will make his eyes go big and bring his voice up a few octaves to make you soft for him again and push his body against yours so you’ll give in and cuddle him

When you got out with Yungi, expect no one to approach you— not with these two mountains next to you

Instead of regular karaoke, you all have a competition to see who can sing the worst

And somehow Jongho always ends up winning

When Hongjoong first saw you he literally almost fell on his face from how pretty you were

And you choked on your yogurt when you first saw him because he was so freaking handsome

When you’re Insomnia decides it wants to rear it’s ugly head, Seonghwa is always there to lull you into a deep sleep and stays with you until you wake up

Wooyoung will do aegyo to make you pay attention to him, don’t think he won’t

You and Yeosang talk shit about anyone and everyone when you go out

Literally all you do is gossip with each other, people started thinking you were planning something when you’d suddenly stop when someone looked over at the two of you

Never go out alone with WooSan… you’ll always end up doing something stupid

And I say that bc the one time you did, you came back home with hair that was three different colors and a heart full of regret

SeongSang is your go two duo for when you wanna have a quiet night in and just watch dramas

Yunho is your literal therapist

He made a certificate and everything with the words ‘Y/n’s therapist’ written across it

Mingi is your ice cream buddy who will always be down to go out and buy ice cream with you whenever you want some

Jongho is your gummy bear, and he gets pouty whenever you give anyone else a nickname that has the word ‘gummy’ or ‘bear’ in them

When people first see you all out in public they think you’re a cult

When the talk of marriage pops up, they all start giving really bad arguments as to why you should take their last name

Seonghwa said because they last name Park just goes good with any name and when people think of play parks they’ll technically bde thinking of you (which was really disturbing)

Hongjoong said because Kim is really classy and it goes with your eyes (which almost made sense if he didn’t say the last part)

Yunho said because having his last name might make you taller (and out of spite you’re not taking his)

Yeosang said because K=Y and Y=you so you should take his (you never thought you’d hear something like that come out of his mouth)

San said because Choi rhymes with Boy and he was your favorite boy (which they all disagreed with and said it was them)

Mingi said because he asked very nicely (and it almost worked)

Wooyoung said because being a Jung made him the Ateez sexy guy and if you took his you could he sexy to (you were offended he didn’t think you were already sexy)

Jongho said because being a Choi made him and San good singers, so if you took his last name you could he a good singer too (you were very offended he didn’t think you were already going at singing)

After that, you just decided to keep your last name

[cat-arsenal]

There’s been so much good Wolves x Elementals stuff since those first posts nearly a year ago (?!), most notably the Lasko x David and/or Asher that @cottagecorexboy , @espressoth , @teddybasmanov , and I have spammed y’all with, the wonderful Damien x Asher fic series by @dominimoonbeam , and more recently, the collective Milo x Lasko brainrot mostly by @metaredacted0201 --which got me thinking: what if More and Different Wolf x Elemental combos?

So now you get me rambling about dynamics so I can maybe get my other work done before diving into this lmao

Lasko x David

The Classic

They balance each other out, each--perhaps hypocritically--encouraging the other not to overwork

Very quiet, domestic couple (who for sure get Very Rowdy)

Speaking of which, David finds a very nice, unexpected subspace with Lasko’s gentle domming

Lasko x Milo

Tall Nerd Gets Dommed by a Guy A Foot Shorter than Him

They have a lot of fun together, Milo helping Lasko come out of his shell and Lasko introducing Milo to ever more geeky stuff

Well-Dressed Men

Milo is definitely jealous of the fact that Aggro beelines for Lasko to claim Lasko’s lap, climb his shoulders, make a nest of his hair, etc. (but Lasko assures him that he still likes Milo best)

Lasko x Asher

Oh Asher has so much fun teasing Lasko. He’s so easy to fluster

But he also loves comforting and encouraging Lasko. Asher is great at self-care and mental health days.

And They Were Both Subs (Um, Actually, they’re both switches, and it’s interesting to see how that evolves with two people who are normally more submissive, but with room to explore themselves)

Lasko is also good at comforting Asher, who, as we know, also has self-worth issues. They may or may not get into “No, you’re amazing,” matches.

Damien x David

Big Tsun and Small Tsun

They’re both set in their ways and sometimes argue about the precise amount of sugar that recipe needs, excuse you

But they’re an unstoppable force of love and protection and change when they combine their knowledge, resources, and stubbornness

Size Kink

Damien x Milo

Short Buff Kings

The sarcasm is strong with these two

So is the competitiveness. Be it field sports or Wii Sports, these two don’t hold back.

Confident guys who every now and then have doubts about their sexy bodies or short wolf legs reassuring each other

Damien x Asher

Balance!

Asher loves Damien’s fiery spirit, and Damien loves Asher’s gentle heart

I can see them having an adventurous nightlife; wandering the city, checking out clubs and little-known restaurants

Damien tries to fix Asher’s diet (and failing that, tries to help him get over his fear of ordering deliveries. Still winds up doing it for him most of the time.)

Huxley x David

Big Gentle Dudes

So much camping

I feel like Huxley helps David relax, set aside all the heavy stuff he carries as Alpha and just be in the moment

David loves getting to know the parts of Huxley he’s used to hiding. A lot of very tender talks and kisses and cuddles

Huxley x Milo

Smol Sassy and Tol Chill

Huxley will sometimes run with Milo in wolf form, and while he can’t keep up for long, Milo will run back to him and tackle him for snuggles

Milo doesn’t mind feeling small in Huxley’s arms

They have dedicated self-care/do-nothing days where they lay around the house, pampering themselves and enjoying each other

Huxley x Asher

Gym Bros Turned Boyfriends

Comfort food and digging holes and video games and chill

Asher doesn’t know how Huxley can talk so sweetly while absolutely destroying him in bed, but he’s not complaining

The biggest and fanciest of pillow forts

[thomacrumbs]

vincit qui se vincit.

various boys (albedo, diluc, aether, xiao, childe, gorou, kazuha, thoma) x gn! reader. fantasy! au. blurbs, mostly fluff. nouns used: sorcerer (childe) & witch (kazuha) w/ gender neutral pronouns. ♡s & ↻s appreciated!

notes: i brainrotted. i was listening to joy's album while writing this ^^

albedo.

the great alchemist albedo is just a myth, or so people think. cursed to live forever as a spirit bound to a teapot by a witch, he sits, bored out of his mind, on the shelves of a dingy antique shop. until one day, against the warnings of the antique shop owner, who warns of bad luck & misfortune, you purchase the quaint teapot & rescues him from his prison. he clatters menacingly on your countertop, only to be ignored by you for days on end before you finally lift the lid off the teapot, releasing his spirit into the realm of the living (its not as bad as it sounds. he is neither threatening nor scary). he doesn't have the heart to tell the human he's grown quite fond of that he's slowly disappearing.

diluc ragvindr.

the ludi harpstum is a festival of wine & song, celebrating the long history of the city of mondstadt, filled with games & song. this year, it seems like the knights of favonius has gone all out with their preparations, even calling in the famed circus of performers that has travelled every corner of teyvat, wowing people with daring flips mid-air, disappearing limbs & tight-rope on the thinnest of threads. the music & laughter of children is so loud that you could hear it from the windows of the dawn winery. an unwilling diluc is dragged against his will to at least view the once in a lifetime circus act, only to be charmed by the cute magic performer who winks at him from the stage as poker cards fly into the air. suddenly he finds himself going to bed thinking about them and wakes up in cold sweat wanting to talk to them. but, the ludi harpstum is only 15 days, can he catch you before you slip through his fingers?

aether.

yeah. maybe you shouldn't have tried to summon a guardian angel, but to be fair your friend put you up to this. now this blonde biblically inaccurate angel is bound to you by contract, and you have another headache to worry about alongside your minimum wage job, messy apartment and the neighbour from next door who keeps taking your flour. not to mention his constant rambling about his sister who you've unceremoniously torn him away from, and suddenly you're repeating this entire ritual, because you cannot say no to those eyes (and maybe you did want to impress him, what about it?) it didn't work, but he doesn't seem that peeved, especially when he settles on your bed after you've fallen into deep sleep, pressing a kiss to your forehead and affectionally calling you cute. he is your guardian angel, at the end of the day.

xiao.

you're the famed dragon rider in the skies of liyue. the winner of several races, competitions & illustrated celebrity in the devoted dragon owner scene. afterall, you ride the only remaining off-spring of morax, a gift from the emperor himself. you boast that no one else could tame your dragon except for you, and for a long while, this seems true. it blows curling flames at anyone who dares come close & curls it spiked tail protectively around you to ward off any unsavoury people. that is, until an unknown melody that carries over the wind calls your dragon down from the skies, and suddenly you are hurtling through the skies at insane speeds.

childe.

he came to liyue for one reason only (two, actually, but morax is dead now, so no boxing him), to challenge the great sorcerer branded by the archons. he's heard about their miracles from a young age, the ability to call down thunder from the skies, resurrecting the dead, moving the entire earth with a simple flick. the only obstacle in his way is that this sorcerer is near unidentifiable, with not even a name to put to a face. imagine his shock when the very sorcerer saves him from certain death, and he finds out they're not an old man hobbling around with a cane, but a young person around his age. oops can't fight if you're too distracted by how good your opponent looks. damn they look good kicking my ass i should do this more often.

gorou.

his dog has had enough of his single shit, crying into an empty bowl of icecream after watching the notebook, wailing about how he "wishes that were him". the animal whisperer who likes hanging around the local dog park is very surprised when they hear a yapping dog bark that his owner needs a significant other stat, he's desperate and alone, applications open please help my mess of an owner. but hey, you aren't complaining, he's pretty cute, and you find it cute that he tries to stop his tail from wagging whenever he sees you.

kazuha kaedehara.

from a young age, he's heard of the immortal witch that hides in their cottage in the thick of the dark forest nears the borders of inazuma. and nothing stops him from pounding on the door of the run down cottage, not even the animate vines that snap at him and trees that uproot themselves to stop him from advancing further. afterall, an immortal being must know the answer to bringing back someone from the dead, right? he near sobs when they tell him that it's impossible, the dead have to stay dead. he doesn't understand at first, but the witch is kinder than he expected, helping him through the memories, painful & happy. but he doesn't miss the flit of pain behind their eyes whenever he talks about losing someone, afterall, time is cruel to all.

thoma.

thoma thinks he's being seduced. afterall, isn't that what sirens do? sing of a pretty future, the numbers to win the future lottery. even though thoma has never won the lottery with their numbers, he stills himself entranced & walks down to the beach everyday to listen to them talk & sing, sitting on the edge of the rock as cold water clashes with his temperature that naturally runs high. finally, he gets the courage to confront them- he doesn't want to fall in love because of magic, that's not right. only to be met with a confused look, you're a half human half mermaid, not a siren. thoma fucking dies of embarrassment when he realises that he was simply in love all along.

[wonder-kid-pugh]

Karma's a bitch - (Emily Sonnett x reader)

This one is slightly different. Reader is a YouTuber with a popular channel called On The Wildside. The chapter switches behind let's say "real life" and then to "recorded clips". So it might be a bit weird and difficult but hopefully it makes sense. Hope you enjoy!!!

"What! Is! Up! My Wilders! Welcome back to the Wildside" I say my intro as I hold up my camera to record myself. I smirk as I spin around as I continue, "And for today's video you are going to see me get my revenge on my girlfriend!"

Along with being a personal trainer for high paying clients, I also run a popular lifestyle and fitness Channel on YouTube which had amassed over a million followers. I usually posted fitness videos and just daily lifestyle vlogs along with soccer challenges with the occasional prank video. It was through my channel I had actually met my girlfriend.

I had gotten in touch with the Portland Thorns to do a video with them for my channel as part of a series I had started, aiming to play all of the NWSL teams in a series of challenges. And she just happened to be one of the players involved in the video.

She was also the one who hit me in the back of the head with a miss kicked soccer ball.

And that's how I met Emily Sonnett.

After that day we kept in touch and with me going to watch her games with the thorns and even meeting up again to do a few more videos with the national team until she eventually asked me out, with much persuasion from her teammates.

And now we have been together for a long time just managing with the long distance. Until she got traded to Washington. And while she was sad to not be at the thorns, on the upside we got to move in together.

Which had both it's positives and negatives.

"So if you have seen the most recent videos or even my Instagram posts. You will know that Em has kinda gone mad with the pranks lately. She got me at Christmas with wrapping my entire office with wrapping paper".

*Emily fumbles with the camera before it eventually focuses on her face*

She gives the camera a toothy smile, "Hey guys!" She starts to walk around causing the camera to blur slightly but can just make our the main image. "So obviously Y/n isn't here today. She's out with a client at the moment and won't be back until later. So I decided to help her get into the Christmas spirit with a little prank".

Flips the camera to show Y/n's office. "So with the help of a few friends" .

*pans the camera to show Kelley and a few other teammates*

"We're going to wrap everything in her room with wrapping paper!"

*Time lapse fast forwarded to show them wrapping her entire room*

"So Y/n is after texting me saying she'll be home soon and she is bringing me dinner which almost makes me feel bad". Emily pauses and looks down the camera, "Almost". She grins at the camera, "So I'm going to set up one of her cameras in her office to film her reaction and yeah hopefully she's like it". She cackles before it transitions to the next clip.

*Shows a clip of Y/n walking into her office only to freeze in the doorway when she sees the room*

Y/n throws her head back with a groan, "Emily!" You can hear the sound of Emily laughing in the background before she appears in the doorway with a wide grin across her face.

"Merry Christmas!" The blonde giggles as Y/n picks up a book that was wrapped. Y/n quirked an eyebrow at her, "You got me everything I already own?"  The camera shakes slightly due to her nodding and laughing, "You get the gift of opening them all over again?"  Y/n sighs before she spots something spherical over the in the corner.

"You wrapped my exercise ball? How?"

"With great difficulty"

Y/n licks her lips too tired to even argue. She tears off the wrapping paper off the chair before sitting down. She groans with her head in her hands before looking up at the blonde holding the camera.

"I hate you so much"

"I love you too".

She slumps in her chair as she looks around the room. "I'm too tired to do anything about this" . She glares back at the blonde, "Why would you even do this?" "Cause I love you?" In response to that Y/n scrunches up the wrapping paper into a ball and throws it at her.

"I'm still pissed at her for that by the way. She used all our wrapping paper and it took me forever to find my stuff she moved" Y/n sighs into the camera. "She also put a load of plastic cups filled with water around our bedroom while I was sleeping. But that ended up backfiring on her".

*A fast forwarded time lapse of Emily covering the floor of their bedroom with cups of water as well as any flat surfaces so Y/n couldn't climb on anything. She holds up 3 fingers and counts down to the camera before blowing an air horn causing Y/n to shot up in the bed*

Y/n peaks her head out from under the blanket only to see Emily giggling with the camera. She looks around confused before spoting all the cups. She groans loudly, "For fuck sake Em". She narrows her eyes at the blonde, "You have way too much free time if this is what your doing".

Y/n grabs a few of the cups and purposely empties them over Emily's stuff. "Hey!" The blonde shouts but Y/n just gives her a look, "What? You come in here and stop me? Be my guest". Emily groans dramatically, "I didn't think this through".

"Did you even think at all?"

"Hurtful"

Y/n clears a few of the cups without making too much of a mess. She sighs as she rubs her eyes, "It's too early for this shit Emily". She points at the defender holding the camera, "I hope you know your cleaning this shit up". Emily chuckles behind the camera.

Y/n looks up on the doorframe where her pull up bar is stuck. She looks between herself and the bar before smirking. "Y/n don't-" Emily starts but it falls on deaf ears. As Y/n bends her knees and make the long jump and grabs onto the bar. Her momentum swings her forward to where Emily is standing.

*In an attempt to soften the hit, Y/n wraps her legs around her waist making sure she doesn't fall. But in doing so she dropped the camera with a grunt causing the screen to blackout*

"And one of the worst ones was when she went away for a match and hid a bunch of alarm clocks around our bedroom which were all set to different times in the morning. Leaving me to wake up every little while to find the bloody things".

*Short clips of Y/n sleeping in the dark bedroom only for an alarm clock to blare causing Y/n to jolt in her sleep. This repeats multiple times showing different clips*

"And ever since then she's has also throw flour bombs at me, woke me up by pouring water all over me and she turned the hallway outside our bedroom into a slip and slide.

*Shows brief clip of  Y/n slipping and falling on her ass*

"So I've decided to give her a taste of her own medicine!" Y/n exclaims to the camera. "So she's coming back late from a game tonight so I'm going to set up a few cameras and pretend to be mad at her and tell her I'm sleeping in the living room".

Y/n smirks at the camera, "One thing you need to know about Emily Sonnett is she loves her cuddles. Especially after a game. She's like a fricken Koala when she sleeps. She just clings onto you". She moves to set the camera down so it has a clear view of the bedroom, "And this is going to set up for my main prank for tomorrow".

"So I'm going to go set up everything. And wait until she gets home". Y/n gives a thumbs up to the camera before it times skips.

*Time has passed to show it's pretty late now. You can hear the jingling of keys before the door opens and closes. Y/n freezes before smiling at the camera and jumps up and starts gathering stuff*

Emily steps in the doorway and drops her bags. But scrunches her face when see her girlfriend isn't asleep and is in fact awake. "Y/n/n? What are you doing?" With an annoyed look on her face, Y/n looked over her shoulder before going back to gathering a blanket and a pillow, "I'm going to sleep in the living room".

Emily looks at her weird, "What? Why?" She moves to grab her hand but Y/n just pulls her arm away, "What's wrong?" Y/n just shrugs her off, "I'm going to sleep on the couch".

Emily crosses her arms upset as Y/n gathers up the last of her things, "Did something happen? Did I do something?" But Y/n just ignores her before shuffling out of the room. Emily curses quietly unaware that there's a camera in the room and that this is all a prank.

After a long sigh Emily pulls out her phone and dials quickly before holding it up to her ear. After a brief minute she starts starting

"Hey Kel did I forget an anniversary?"

*Cuts to the camera set up in their living room which is facing their couch. Y/n has a make shift bed set up as she's scrolling through her phone before she untangles herself from the blankets leaving to go to the bathroom*

After Y/n leaves a minute later you can shuffling off camera before Emily wrapped in blankets comes into view. She pauses at the couch before she jumps and flops on the couch making sure she's wrapped up in her blanket. Completely unknown that this is getting caught on camera.

A few minutes later Y/n comes back with her phone in hand. It swaps to her phones point of view as it shows a close up of Emily's face peaking out from the bundle of blanket. "What are you doing?" Y/n asked desperately trying to fight the small smile coming to her face. But Emily just smiles cutely up at her, "We're sleeping in the living room". Y/n groans quietly, "Noooo". But Emily just keeps smiling, "Together". Y/n shakes her head, "No. I am".

But Emily just ignores her and pulls the blanket back and nods towards her, "C'mon!" Y/n just sighs, "Kay fine. You sleep here and I'll sleep in the bed". Emily almost falls out of the bed trying to stop her, "Nooooo".

They have a mini staring competition before it cuts to the next frame where the two are seen cuddling on the couch with Emily lying on top of Y/n's chest.

"Okay! So last night's prank didn't go exactly how I planned" Y/n starts as she's back holding the camera. "BUT! I have something else planned!" She exclaims.

"So last night was really just meant for her to think I'm mad at her for some reason or another. Which sets up today's prank perfectly" she explains. "So I'm sure many of you have seen this one already but I'm going to put my own twist on it".

"So Emily and Kelley have gone out to train together today and then they're going to come back here to hang out" Y/n starts before smiling down at the camera, "but I'm going to pretend to just come out of the shower". She grins, "Well.... you'll see what happens".

*Camera cuts a clip of the kitchen where Emily and Kelley are. Emily is on her phone by the island while Kelley is looking through their fridge (obviously). Y/n walks in with a towel wrapped tightly around her*

Y/n walks around for a bit before Emily looks up and smiles before going back to her phone. It takes a second before Emily does a double take, eyes widen when she realizes that Y/n is supposedly only walking around in a towel.

"Y/n!" Emily gawked causing Kelley to look over and snort at the sight. Y/n just looks at her girlfriend unbothered, "What?" Emily just looks her up and down motioning to her lack of attire, "Uh!" "What?" Y/n asks frustratedly. "What are you doing?" Emily asked while Kelley just watched on amused.

"Nothing!" Y/n throws her hands up. "Get dressed" Emily says. "Why?" Y/n asks nonchalantly. "Your in a towel!" Emily says angrily. "So what?" Y/n just retorts. "Cause we have company!" Emily argues motioning to Kelley standing at the fridge who just holds her hands up in surrender.

Y/n just shrugs, "So what? It's only Kelley. She doesn't care". "I care! Only I get to see you like this!" Emily shouts angrily. Y/n runs a hand through her hair, "I don't see the problem I'm covered! I'm covered". "I don't care go get changed" Emily says sternly which is a bit weird to see from her usual happy, upbeat persona.

"She's not bothered by it" Y/n defends herself motioning her arm in Kelley's direction. "I'm bothered by it!" Sonnet claps back getting even angrier, "just go put something on".

Hiding her smirk Y/n progresses with the prank, "You know what? You know what? No. Now this". Y/n then turns her back to her girlfriend as she faces Kelley who's eyes widen substantially as Y/n untucks the towel still holding the ending with her hands.

Catching onto the joke, Kelley bursts our laughing which only fuels Emily's rage further as she stands there stunned that her girlfriend would do such a thing. "This is happening" Y/n says throwing a look back at Emily over her shoulder. "Y/n! That's not-" Emily stutters out trying to find the words.

"She's seen me like this before and so have you" Y/n says as Kelley is still gasping for breath as she laughs. "What are you-" Emily starts only to stop when Y/n drops the towel to reveal one of Y/n's dresses which she has pulled down the sleeves to hide underneath the towel.

Emily's jaw drops as Kelley falls into another fit of giggles as she leans against the island. "Gotcha!" Y/n grins. Emily's mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out as she just stuttered unintelligently, "Uh I um?" Y/n moves to pick up the camera and hold it in front of Emily, "Say Hi to the internet Babe".

If at all possible, Emily's cheeks flushed even darker, "You recorded all this?!" Y/n hummed contently, "And last night". Emily leans back against the island and slides down to the floor, "Last night! That was a prank?" Y/n giggles, "Yup!" Emily slumps back, "Thank god! I thought you were pissed at me! I thought I forgot an anniversary or something!"

There is some shuffling and a bit of blurry imagines before it shows Y/n sitting on the ground beside Emily as she grins, "Nah. Just payback for all the pranks you've pulled on me recently". Emily buried her face in her girlfriend's shoulder letting out a small, "I'm sorry" although it came out muffled.

Y/n leans her cheek on Emily's head, "It's okay. But just remember next time you prank me, remember how I got you back". "Emily pouted at her girlfriend, "Fine. No more pranks". Y/n smiled as she pressed a kiss to the top of her blonde crown. But of course Kelley had to interrupt.

"If there is ever a prank war, I'm calling Y/n for my team".

Emily growled at her teammate as she koala hugged her girlfriend's side, "No!" Y/n giggled as she shrugged at Kelley, "Sorry Kels I'm taken". "Damn right you are" Emily mumbles as she presses herself even further into Y/n's embrace.

Y/n smiled as she holds up the camera, "Well that's it for my revenge pranks back on my girlfriend. If you want to see the full videos of Emily's pranks on me, I'll leave them in the description. Comment below for any videos you would like to see". "No more prank videos" Emily whined at the camera causing the other two to laugh before Y/n finished her outro. "Well that's it for now. Until next time. Peace out Wilders!"

[wrenhyperfixates]

We Make a Pretty Good Team

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: It’s game night at the Avengers Tower, and you find the perfect partner in Loki. Warnings: ‘tis but fluff A/N: Just another self-indulgent, fluffy story. Hope you enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02​​ @frostedgiant​​ @lunarmoon8​​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​​ @lokistan​​ @lowkeyorlokificrecs​​ @gaitwae​​ @whatafuckingdumbass​​ @castiels-majestic-wings​​ @kozkaboi​​ @cozy-the-overlord​​ @birdgirl90​​ @myraiswack​​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine 

“First Saturday of the month. You know what that means,” Tony hollered to the Avengers scattered about the Tower.

“Yes!” Thor boomed. “Be prepared to lose.”

“Funny,” Clint laughed with a roll of his eyes. “I was just about to say the same thing to you.”

“What is happening?” you asked, somewhat bewildered, as the heroes came into the room. “What’s significant about Saturday?”

“Oh my gosh, that’s right. You just missed the last one. Every first Saturday of the month we have a game night,” Nat explained.

You’d been part of the team for just under a month, having officially joined on a Sunday. So, it was true that you’d yet to experience their apparently traditional game night. It sounded like a great deal of fun, though, especially because the Avengers had become your second family in the short time you’d known them. Well, you’d actually known Nat and Clint for years, since you all worked for SHIELD. In fact, they were a huge part of the reason you were an Avenger now. A few months ago there was a particularly dangerous crime ring, and they’d specifically requested you as backup. You’d clicked with everyone immediately and, numerous transfer papers later, here you were.

“Sounds exciting!” you told them. “What are we playing first?”

“Well actually,” Bruce said kind of sheepishly, “it’s not that I want you to sit out, but they’re all team games, and we don’t have an even number of people.”

“So we have a team of three,” Nat said, as if it were obvious.

“No way. That’s unfair,” Tony argued.

You bit your lip, feeling like maybe you were intruding on something you shouldn’t be a part of. It was their thing, after all, and perhaps there was simply no room for a newcomer. As they continued to bicker about whether one larger team mattered or not, you considered just slipping away. That’s when you noticed that there was someone missing.

“What about Loki?” you said. “He would make the numbers even.”

Much to your surprise, everyone burst out laughing. You nervously ran your sweaty palms on the legs of your pants and let out a small laugh, though you weren’t quite sure at what. Once their cackling died down, you dared to ask what was so funny.

“My brother never attends these games nights,” Thor informed you. “He isn’t one for group activities, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“Well, have you ever invited him?”

“Once or twice,” Tony said. “Listen, if you want to try to make a social butterfly out of Reindeer Games, be my guest. In the meantime, we’ll work out a feasible way for us all to play.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed a little, standing up to go find Loki. It was honestly ridiculous that they still treated him the way they did. Sure, he likes to be alone sometimes, but that doesn’t mean he likes being lonely. Not that he’d ever actually admitted to you that he was, but you knew. It was blatantly obvious in the way he sent longing glances toward the rest of the team when you gathered together. You always made sure to ask him over, an invitation he usually accepted. Everyone else had laughed the first time you’d done that, too. They’d only ever asked him a few times, and it was right when he was new and still so lost, so alone, so afraid. Why they took that to just be his permanent disposition, you didn’t know. Regardless of how insensitive they were to his situation, your inclusivity had brought Loki out of his shell a bit, and a friendship had blossomed between you.

A short walk later, you reached his door. You stretched out a hand, but hesitated to knock. Doubt gnawed at the back of your mind. Maybe he truly was not a fan of board games, and then you’d be interrupting his night. After all, he must have a tradition of his own if this happens every first Saturday. Still, you knew that was usually not the case, and steeled yourself against the uncertainty.

“Hello, my little mortal,” he greeted you, opening the door. “Is everything alright?”

“No.”

“What is it? Are you ill? Hurt?” he questioned, jumping into action and shepherding you to his couch.

“No, nothing like that,” you laughed, though you were touched by his concern. “It’s just that it’s game night, and we don’t have an even number of people.”

“Oh? And I suppose that you are asking me to join,” he mused as you nodded. “I am not usually invited, and I am notorious spoiled sport, just ask Thor.”

“Well, people say a lot of things about you, and they’re usually not true.” He shrugged his shoulders. “You don’t have to play if you really don’t want to, but will you? Please. For me?”

“For you, my little mortal, anything. After all, how can I resist those puppy dog eyes?”

You giggled and led the way out of his room, ignoring the thumping of your heart when his hand accidentally brushed yours. Nat and Tony were still bickering about the teams when you arrived, but were quickly stunned into silence when they saw Loki.

“Brother! Good to see you’ve decided to join,” Thor greeted, breaking the somewhat awkward silence. “Shall we begin then?”

First up was Cranium, and you could tell that everyone else was divided into their usual teams: Tony and Bruce, Clint and Nat, Thor and Steve. You rubbed your hands in excitement, ready for some friendly competition.

“Yes!” you shouted a while later, after you and Loki answered the final question right. “We win!”

Everyone else’s jaw hung open, shocked by how serious of a competitor you were. Not to say you were mean-spirited or gloated or anything, but it was obvious you took game night very seriously. Loki was a little surprised too, but he relished in the infectious energy of your feisty spirit. Not to mention he absolutely loved to be on the winning team.

“Congratulations, guys,” Steve said. “Don’t expect to get as lucky in the next game, though.”

The next game, apparently, was charades, which you and Loki absolutely dominated again. The two of you worked as a well-oiled machine, guessing the simple ones like sewing and the more obscure ones like whale watching with ease. Loki was also surprisingly knowledgeable about Midgardian movies and literature. The two of you high fived, having just edged out the competition.

“Wow, good job guys,” Nat congratulated. “Tony and Bruce usually win that one.”

“Way to rub it in,” Tony groaned, flopping back on the couch.

You could tell a part of him wanted to accuse Loki of cheating but, having no real evidence and not wanting to start a fight, restrained himself. Instead, he contented himself with just mumbling how much of an outrage it was. You, however, were on cloud nine.

As the next game was set up, Loki pulled you onto his lap, instilled with confidence after his latest wins. Of course, if anyone were to ask, he would just say he was saving room on the couch. It would have, though, been a lie.

“Ready for a clean sweep, my little mortal?” he whispered, his breath surprising cold on your ear.

“Bring it on!” you whispered back with a wink.

The last game of the night was Pictionary, and by now everyone knew you and Loki were the team to beat. Unfortunately for them, you got this win, too. The Avengers let out a collective sigh as you shouted a victorious whoop and hugged Loki.

“Good game everyone,” you said, starting to help clean up.

“What are you doing, my little mortal?” Loki questioned, half joking. “Do you not know the losers have to clean up?”

“Not sure that’s actually a rule, Rock of Ages,” Tony grumbled.

“Fine, I’ll help,” he replied, placing a singular piece back in the box. “There. Now it is time for our victory lap.”

Then he scooped you up bridal style using his superhuman strength and began running you around the Tower in his arms, both laughing the whole time. He finally brought you to a stop on the balcony of his room.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that right?” you said, still chuckling.

“Perhaps. But we deserved that after an excellent showing.”

“I guess so. As much as it pains me to admit it, we should probably go easy on them next time. We’ll just win one a night, ok?”

“That’s my little mortal,” he happily sighed, wrapping his arms around you. “Always looking out for others. Always looking out for me. Thank you for inviting me along tonight.”

“No problem. It was a lot of fun. We make a pretty good team.”

“Indeed.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, and you rested against Loki, whose arms were still wrapped around you. He felt more relaxed and happy than he had in a while. He knew he’d ask you out someday, but right now he was still too shy, this friendship still too new. One day he would, though, and he couldn’t wait to get there and to every day after.

[lou-struck]

A Friendly Little Massacre

Koshi Sugawara x Reader

- The lesson of losing is one not taught in the classroom. Sugawara is more than ready to call in reinforcements on your behalf

WC: 1.3k

Normally you love your job as a middle school teacher, your students are great, they come to class excited to tell you about their days. The extra effort you put into your lesson plans has paid off having your classes having some of the highest levels of academic improvement in the whole school.

Recently, you have been proposed to by your long-term boyfriend Koshi Sugawara, an elementary school teacher in the other building. When the news broke, your students and colleagues seemed almost more excited than you were. Despite this news, and the other successes from your students there have been fewer heightened spirits in the hallways, and students seem on edge, you cannot understand why this is.

Until today, the last bell has rung twenty minutes ago you pack up your belongings as you hear shouting and the squeaking of shoes down the hallway. Rushing to the noise you find a few male students in a circle obnoxiously hitting a volleyball against the faded lockers the clang sounding like a symbol. The other students look on uncomfortably as the balls hit the locker again a few flinching from the deafening sound, their eyes finding you wearing a look of distress.

“Knock it off,” you scold the hallway becoming quiet as the ball slowly bounces on the tile. The boys disperse as you shake your head. Checking in with the students who remain. In your investigation, you found that those boys are members of the school's Volleyball Club, They have been dominating their competition this season and have developed elitist attitudes, thinking themselves to be held at a higher standard than their other classmates. They really need to be humbled down before this problem escalates, but you have no idea how to do so.

Your drive home is somber as you are lost in your thoughts regarding the current situation. The Volleyball club isn't inherently bad, they just need to be brought back down to earth. With this in mind, you have no idea how to stop them.

They need to learn the humility of losing a competition, but if they lose now they would be out of the national tournament. Disheartened you manage to pull yourself to the front door of your home. Once inside, you remove your shoes and place your keys on the countertop before stumbling to the living room where you flop down on the couch with a groan.

“Bad day?” a familiar voice asks, you lift your head off from the cushion just enough to see the angelic figure of your Fiance.

“Uh-huh,” you moan as he sits down on the edge of the couch to comfort you.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“A little,” you say flipping around to place your head in his lap so you can vent as he gently brushes the stray hairs from your face a familiar action that never fails to calm you down. You tell him of the problem with the Volleyball team and their need to be humbled as he nods along politely asking clarifying questions when needed.

“It does sound like they need to be taught a lesson he says once you concluded with your anecdotes.

“They do!” you exclaim “I just have no idea what I can do about it, I don’t just want them to lose in nationals, this is the farthest our team has ever gotten”

“But they do need to be humbled a bit what would you say if I helped you out,” he asks giving your shoulders a gentle rub.

“What do you have in mind?” you ask as his soothing motions send waves of relaxation to your brain like it's your own personal sedative.

“Just trust me,” he says “I’ll get this taken care of,” the mischievous confidence in his voice puts you at ease for the rest of your night.

The next day, you have all but forgotten last night's vent to Suga as you walk through the halls.

You are so busy with staff meetings, and lessons that the day completely passes you by in the most mundane way. Once the last class of the day comes to a close you check your phone with a text from your Fiance.

Be sure to go to the gym after school. I have something to show you.

You immediately grab your belongings and make your way through the hallways until you reach the gymnasium. Looking around you almost miss your silver-haired fiancé in athletic clothes. He waves at you giving you a quick kiss on the forehead.

“Good you got my message, the match is about to start.” he smiles against your skin.

“The Match?” you question looking behind him to see the court abuzz with activity. Balls are flying in every which direction as shoes squeak and slide across the floor.

“Yeah isn't this great, I talked to their coach last night and asked if they wanted a practice match. He agreed and I called up a few friends who were ready to play again.” he beams as you blink in confusion.

“What kind of friends?” you ask looking at Sugawara's makeshift team. You can't believe your eyes, behind Sugawara looks to be the majority of his third year Karasuno Volleyball team. Including there three players that went pro after graduation. Daichi and Asahi, Suga’s soon-to-be groomsmen give you a friendly wave as they start to warm up.

“I can't believe you got everyone to show up today,” you breathe.

“Yeah it's crazy, Hinata was the first to respond and no one else wanted to look bad so here they are,” he says bashfully aware he overdid it just a bit.

“Koshi, are you sure about this? They are just Middle Schoolers” you say suddenly as your students take the court blissfully unaware of what they are going up against.

“Yeah. You're never too old to learn how to lose.” he laughs “It’s about time to start, can I get a kiss for luck?” he asks leaning in close to you.

“Fine,” you huff leaning in and giving him a chaste peck. When you pull back you see the cheeky smile on his face as he takes the court with his former teammates ready to kick the crap out of some middle schoolers.

The first set starts with the students cockily bouncing on the balls of their feet, their winning streak causing them to question what a bunch of old men knew about volleyball. They were proven wrong as the first serve of the match whizzed past their heads at an ungodly speed.

After a few points, their confidence faded to confusion then to fear.

It was a Massacre but if anything a really friendly one. After each point, Suga and the others would provide helpful feedback to the players. The end of the match had the Middle schoolers out of breath and sweating buckets while your guys had barely broken a sweat.

Hanging their heads in defeat they trudge off the court to talk to their coach and surprisingly your Fiance who gives them a small lecture on humility and how they should carry themselves in the hallway.

“How was that?” he asks walking you to your cars happy with how the whole interaction played out.

“You were fantastic,” you smile “It wasn't just the Volleyball Koshi, you helped in a way I never would've thought of.”

“ Let's hope it pays off,” he grins looking back at his reunited friends. “I’m just happy to play again, even if we just destroyed a group of middle schoolers."

“Yeah," you snort "but it was a relatively friendly massacre,” you say as you and the rest of your little party head down the street to celebrate your victory with a few drinks.

[writing-badger]

Twitter Polls Make For The Bloodiest Battlefields - Chapter 3

Humans Aren't The Only Ones Using Convenience Stores

1 • 2 (Previous Chapter) • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 6.5

Pairing: Sakata Gintoki x Reigen Arataka

Summary: Anime Twitter was thrown into chaos. Thirty-two "DILFs" were thrown into a merciless battle to find out who truly encapsulated the title of Dad I'd Like to Fuck. Two competitors begin to wonder whether the battle is worth it and maybe, just maybe, they can overcome their differences to find a way out.

Genre: Enemies to Lovers

Word Count: 2,361

Warnings: Reigen being Reigen, mentions of blood

Dimple is, as the kids say, straight up not having a good time.

 He has been floating around in the same spot for over half an hour, waiting for Reigen to finish talking with Mob over the phone. A part of him considers leaving the two-bit conman and heading over to Mob's home but, after being headed into a rental car by Reigen, he has no idea where he is. The fraud kept talking about a lucrative case a few towns over, saying that the client was so desperate to deal with her spirit problem that she would be willing to pay anything. 

 "Are you sure that you won't be able to make it, Mob?" Reigen asks for what feels like the hundredth time, "of course, I can handle this by myself, it's just that this would be a great experience for you." Dimple knows that he is lying, but doesn't say anything. It seems like Mob is finally taking a bit of a stand against his boss and so the upper-class spirit stays out of it. "Ah, there's no need to put your mother on the phone," the conman says, his forehead sweating a little more, "I hope your exam goes well and I'll see you in the office in the afternoon."

  Reigen immediately hangs up the phone, his breathing uncharacteristically rapid as he tries to calm down his racing heart. For once, Dimple can't blame him. Dimple has been fortunate enough to see Mob's mother's wrath only once, and he would never want to see it again for as long as she lived.  

 "So, he's not coming then?"

 "Nope. It's just you and me," Reigen responds, clearly unhappy with the arrangement. Still, he tidies his suit and runs a hand through his golden hair; dishevelling some of the tangled knots. 

 "Then let me know when you're done," Dimple responds, about to float off towards the car. 

 "Oh, running scared," the other man teases. Dimple knows what he is trying to do, and it works every time. 

 "No! Of course I'm not, I just don't know why you'd need me to help on such a basic job."

 "Then, if it's so basic, why don't we have a little competition," Reigen challenges, straightening his tie in a swift motion that catches the eyes of a woman walking past. Either that, or it's the fact that a grown man is talking to himself.

 "You're on," Dimple pauses for a moment, "and if I win, then you have to tell Mob the truth." 

 Reigen nods, somehow being supremely confident despite the fact that he cannot see spirits. "To make it fair, I'll let you know what the client told me. Apparently, a powerful evil spirit has been haunting this store," he says as he uses his thumb to gesture to the building behind him, "and they need it gone."

 "Well, I'm not sensing anything so it's probably a crank call," Dimple replies. If that ends up being the case, then he might try doing the same thing himself. Or, at the very least, he could convince Ritsu to give it a go.  As he plans his potential vengeance, he hears the door to the store beep, signalling that someone has entered it.

 “Ah, you must be Lu,” Reigen says as the door slides shut, leaving Dimple to make his own way in. 

 “You really came,” a young woman says with tears in her eyes. She has reddish-pink hair which is braided into a long plait. “No one believed me, but there’s something haunting this store.”

 Dimple lets Reigen waste his time talking to the girl while he explores the store. 

 On the surface, everything looks like he would expect. Each aisle contains food or small items that the living would need in their everyday lives. As Dimple floats by the potato chips, he can’t help but wonder how some of the stranger flavours might taste. Usually, when he eats food through a possessed body it ends up tasting like ash.

 “You look sad,” a high-pitched voice says behind him, causing the green blob to turn around in surprise. A little girl, probably less than half Mob’s age, is standing in front of him. She has short, dark hair and wide, kind eyes. “You aren’t like the scary man, are you?”

 “What scary man?” Reigen asks, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. 

 “Oh, he stands over there,” she points to one of the aisles, “but he is always angry.” 

 Reigen thanks the girl as he walks over to the corner and begins to take a closer look. Dimple leaves him to it, assuming that the reason the spirit isn’t showing up is that it’s too weak.

 “What’s your name?” The girl is still standing by Dimple, clearly curious about him. 

 “None of your business,” he says, only to immediately backtrack when her eyes begin to well up with tears. “It’s Dimple.”

“Nice to meet you, Dimple-chan! My name’s Hana.” Her tears immediately dry up, and Dimple can’t help but wonder if they were even real to begin with.  “Do you miss eating food?”

 “Why’d you think that?” Dimple asks, slightly surprised by how perceptive the child is. Especially when he is usually hanging around the naïve Mob. It’s kind of refreshing, actually.

 “You keep looking at the chips,” she says, “but daddy says they taste horrible.” She says this as though she is telling a secret to a close friend. 

 “What would you recommend then, miss?” Dimple says, pretending to be a customer.  This seems to excite Hana as she bolts off to another aisle. 

 “Hana-chan, you’re not meant to run in the store,” Lu says as she stands near Reigen. She seems to be really enthusiastic about what he is doing, talking about how her colleague is a ‘clairvoyant’ who can read minds. Dimple can’t believe that one girl could be unlucky enough to have two fraudsters in her life. 

 “Here,” she says, showing Dimple a bottle of peppermint oil. “Mummy says that it helps with head pains.”

 Dimple can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think it will help with mine,” he pauses, “but thank you.”

 Hana nods, a warm smile on her face before she freezes. The smile immediately fades and her eyes become filled with terror as she looks through Dimple. 

 That’s when he feels it; a pressure almost unlike anything he has ever felt before. In fact, if he hadn’t met Mob, he would have believed that this was the power of a god. 

 “Reigen!” Dimple shouts, turning to look at the man. Standing only a little bit behind Reigen and Lu is a hulking figure that towers over them, a malicious aura seeping into the room. How on earth could he not have felt it?

 “Give me a minute Dimple,” Reigen says as he sprinkles a pinch of salt by the spirit's feet. 

 “You need to run!” 

 As the pair continue to stand there, the spirit lifts one of its large hands up, preparing to attack. 

 “Lu!” Hana shouts, grabbing the woman’s attention. 

 The arm crashes down, knocking into one of the snack-holders. Lu, at the last second, grabs Reigen and pulls him out of the way. While Reigen lands in an awkward clump, she manages to gracefully flip. Her hair follows her, whipping over her shoulder like she’s from an action film.

 “Are you alright, Hana-chan?” She asks, not taking her eyes off of the corner where the spirit is. At this point, Reigen is completely outmatched but Dimple doesn’t want to scare the girl next to him. 

 Kill…

 That’s not good. 

 Usually, spirits like this remain hidden from non-espers, making them a lot more difficult to deal with. 

 “Reigen, roll left!”

 Without hesitating, the conman rolls smoothly to the left and narrowly avoids another attack. He then stands up, slipping off his blazer and throwing it over to the counter. 

 “Lu, duck!” Hana shouts, copying what Dimple is doing. Lu smoothly leans back, an arm swiping with where she just was. Out of instinct, her foot shoots up but the spirit lets it pass through him as if he isn’t there. 

 Reigen seems to notice this and reaches into his trouser pocket to pull out a handful of salt. He then swings a punch in the direction where Lu’s leg went. 

 “He hit it,” Hana says in wonder as Reigen’s fist connects with the spirit. 

 When he pulls away, however, it is clear to see that no damage has been done. They needed someone stronger to land some damage. 

 At first, Dimple thinks of Mob. If he was here then the spirit would be gone in an instant. But Mob has no way of getting to them, especially if his mother is keeping him under lock and key. 

 Hana continues to guide Lu, her simple instructions allowing the woman to avoid injury. Reigen, however, seems to only listen to half the things that Dimple is saying. 

 “Reigen, give the salt to Lu,” Dimple says, an idea quickly forming in his mind. At first, the man looks a little reluctant but, as he feels a punch land against his stomach, he agrees. 

 “Lu, I need you to hold onto this,” he says, passing the salt and leaving him with no method of attack. For a moment, Lu pauses to grab the salt and the spirit uses this as its chance. Rather than going after Lu or Reigen, it reaches out to Hana. 

 The girl is understandably terrified as the spirit’s foot comes crashing down, but she is knocked out of the way at the last minute. 

 Dimple watches as Reigen goes flying, taking the full force of the blow. 

 “Reigen!” Dimple rushes to his side, noticing that the shirt which usually only has a couple of sweat patches, is covered in scratches and a couple of bloody spots bleeding through the fabric.

 “Help the girl,” Reigen says as he starts to move. His breathing is a little bit laboured, but he seems to be fine.

 Dimple nods, well as much as his blob shape allows him to, and speeds back over to Hana who is absolutely paralysed in fear. Lu, meanwhile, is trying her best but she is severely out-matched.

 “Hana-chan, I need you to tell Lu where the spirit is,” he says; keeping his voice as calm as possible. Only a couple of months ago, he would have possessed the child and quickly solved the problem. Yet he can’t bring himself to do it now. 

 “But it’s scary,” she says as her hands shake slightly. 

 “It’s normal to feel scared,” Dimple says, trying to do his best impression of Reigen when he’s consoling Mob. “Even the bravest people are afraid at times.”

 “Even daddy?”

 “Especially your dad,” Dimple is only guessing at what her father is like. “But do you know why he keeps going?”

 Hana shakes her head.

 “Because he has people he wants to protect, just like you want to protect Lu.”

 “And you want to protect your friend?” 

 Dimple pauses for a moment, his gaze shooting to the ground as he mutters a quiet yes. It’s definitely a lie. He just wants to make sure that Hana and Lu are safe. And he needs a ride back to Spice city. Yep, definitely a lie.

 It seems to do the trick as Hana immediately starts to tell Lu where to punch. All Dimple can do is watch, but he feels confident that they have it handled, especially when Lu manages to pin the spirit to the floor and starts to punch it repeatedly.

 “How are we going to get rid of it?” Dimple asks as he floats back over to Reigen. Thankfully, the injuries are only superficial enough for the conman to be sitting upright, his back resting against the counter. 

 “I don’t think we’re going to have to worry about that,” he says as he gestures to Lu. She is punching the spirit so hard that its body is beginning to fall apart. 

 “Is that even possible?” Dimple mutters in equal parts wonder and terror.

 “Well Mob isn’t exactly a strong boy,” Reigen says before quickly tagging on, “and I always hold back my punches out of pity.”

 “Sure you do,” the green blob says, too tired to argue. 

 The spirit only lasts for a few more minutes, its body dissolving completely. In its wake is an almost completely destroyed store; food and shelves scattered around as if there was a mini-tornado. 

 “Ugh, Sakamoto-san is going to kill me,” Lu groans as she looks at the wreckage. Reigen, meanwhile, is slipping his blazer back on. 

 “About the payment…” he says, stepping over one of the destroyed snack stands.

 “Oh, yeah,” Lu pulls an envelope out of her pocket and hands it to him, her eyes not leaving the wreckage. 

 “Ah, Shin-chan’s back!” Hana shouts, running over to the door. A young, blond man is walking towards the store, his hair ruffling slightly in the breeze.

 Upon seeing him, Lu immediately ducks behind the counter as if it makes her invisible. Reigen, meanwhile, remains in clear view; his eyes scanning of some paper in his hands.

 “Lu, I told you to wait unt-“ Shin pauses what he’s saying as walks into the store, his eyes widening at the carnage. Then his gaze lands on Reigen. His finger shoots up to point at the fraud in horror. “You!”

 “Me?” Reigen says as he stares at the paper in his hands. He briefly looks up to make eye contact, his body beginning to glow a strange yet familiar colour. Dimple can’t believe it. Disappearing out of reality once is an impossibility, but twice!?

 “Oh, you were from the Tw-“

 And, just like that, Reigen Arataka simply blips out of existence. All that’s left in his place is an empty envelope with the store owner’s name stamped on the front.

 At first, Dimple expected the other three to panic but they seem remarkably calm. The new arrival picks up the envelope and places it on the table, takes a deep breath in as he rubs his temples before briefly shouting out exactly what Dimple is thinking.

 “Not again!”

Next Chapter

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