#why would I. why would I make up a guy and base his insecurities around all the things I’m afraid of doing to someone.

[finderseeker]

Writing this Tempus essay has me like wow. Man. I really messed this guy up. He is like. Wow. this is beyond putting him in the blender, I finely diced him and put him in the food processor. I hurt this dude in ways so personal and soul-crushing, I have no idea how I intend to fix him. What is wrong with me why couldn’t I just make a normal depressed guy why’d I make someone and then hurt him like. this. Freaking yikes, Seeker.

[maskedbyghost]

jealous!Simon is on my mind 24/7

even better if the two of you are secretly fucking bc he is scared of feelings, commitment, relationships, and blah blah blah…

and simon wasn’t used to feeling jealous. he had trained his emotions out of him long ago, or so he thought. but as he stood in the doorway, watching you stroll across the shared kitchen on the base, your back turned to him, the name "mactavish" boldly displayed on the long-sleeved shirt you wore, something twisted in his chest.

the sight of you wearing his shirt, so casually, stung in a way simon hadn’t expected. he cleared his throat, trying to sound indifferent, but the edge in his voice betrayed him. "that’s johnny’s shirt."

"i know." was the only thing you said, smirking since he couldn't see your face. you knew exactly what you were doing, but in that moment, you didn’t care.

"why is johnny's shirt on you?" simon asked, his voice low but tight with tension. he tried to keep his tone neutral, but the undercurrent of jealousy and frustration was hard to hide. seeing you in johnny’s shirt stirred something uncomfortable deep inside him, a mix of possessiveness and insecurity that he wasn't used to feeling. he hated how something so simple made his chest tighten, how the sight of you in someone else’s name made him feel like he was losing control of the one thing he was afraid to admit he cared about.

"oh, he gave it to me because i was cold," you said, pouting slightly as you turned around to face the only man you ever wanted "he is such a nice guy."

simon managed a slight nod, his mind blanking from the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him. everything felt too much, too fast. meanwhile, you casually turned your back to him again, giving him another clear view of soap's name stretched across your shoulders as you began making your tea. the tiny grumble that escaped simon’s lips didn’t go unnoticed—it sent a wave of satisfaction through you, a small victory that made your day. you loved torturing him. and, after all, he did deserved it.

frustrated, he walked over to the sink, grabbing a glass of water, hoping it would cool the fire raging inside. but as he turned, his grip slipped, and the water splashed across your front. simon froze, watching the water drip down your shirt, half-shocked and half-relieved for the excuse to make the shirt disappear.

simon froze, his eyes glued to the water dripping down your shirt. after a beat of silence, he muttered, "well, guess you’ll need to take that off now. what a shame."

shocked, you watched as he put the glass down and left the room, still feeling the cold water seeping through the fabric. did he seriously just accidentally splash you and then walk out like nothing happened? that bitch.

*

later, as you slept in your bed, wearing your shirt this time, you stirred slightly at the feeling of someone’s arms wrapping around you. you didn’t even need to open your eyes or turn around—you already knew who it was. that familiar warmth could only belong to simon.

"simon?" you muttered groggily, barely able to make out the shape of him in the dim light. "what are you doing here?"

"shh, just sleep, pretty girl," he whispered softly, his breath warm against your ear. "i just wanted to apologize for how i acted earlier."

"i'm listening," you murmured, your voice barely more than a whisper.

simon’s arms tightened around you as he spoke. “i’m sorry for earlier. i know i’ve been pushin' you away and acting like an idiot. seein' you in johnny’s shirt... it just brought out this jealousy i didn’t want to admit i had. i hate feelin' like i’m not enough, or that someone else might have a piece of you. the truth is, i want you to be only mine. i can’t stand the thought of you being with anyone else. i just wanted you to know that, even if i messed everythin' up.”

“well, isn’t this a surprise? i didn’t realize it took me wearing johnny's shirt for you to admit your feelings.” you said with a hint of a smile, turning around to kiss him softly. simon sighed into the kiss, his arms wrapping around you with a sense of relief and affection.

simon pulled back slightly, his eyes intense as he rested his forehead on yours “i mean it, you know. you’re mine—only mine. no one else gets to touch what’s mine.” his voice was firm, yet tender, which made his words more meaningful.

"did you have a similar conversation with soap?" you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

simon grinned, leaning in even closer. “yep, told him to keep his wardrobe to himself unless he wanted a 'property of simon' label slapped on everything he owns.” he sealed his words with a gentle, lingering kiss, his lips tenderly brushing against yours as if to mark his claim in the most intimate way.

*

soap: so, i guess it worked?

y/n: your shirt got wet, but i got what i wanted. thanks, bestie.  

soap: i think i got worse treatment from simon than the shirt did, but anything for my two lovebirds.

[asunflowerana]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

summary: there's an competitor around, and the boys will make sure to let them know who's worthy of your heart.

with: inarizaki team (atsumu, osamu, aran, suna and kita)

n/a: better bring an ice bag for kai. boy's not in a good situation.

⊛ miya atsumu: the show off

It’s unusual for Atsumu to feel insecure. He comprehends how handsome, talented, funny (his brother would disagree) and charming he is,which explains how he became so popular in school. Heck, he even discovered not long ago that he has a fanclub going on online. Based on those facts, it’d be foolish for some boy to try to compete with him. However, that’s not enough to make Kai, one of your classmates, give up on you. And that surely does a good job on getting on the blonde’s nerves, but he’s not a quitter, especially with something — better yet, someone — he’s been wishing for quite a while. 

So, Atsumu uses his best weapon against the enemy: he shows off.

Seriously, that boy looks like a peacock, displaying all of his best features and abilities whenever you’re around, making sure that Kai also gets the hint. He praises you in every opportunity he finds, helps you carry your stuff, gives you sweets and snacks, and even tries to impress you with his physique, either by carrying something heavy, or randomly stretching his body or flexing his biceps. 

But the moment he shines is surely on his volleyball matches. This boy overflows with confidence, making the court his stage to glow, and winning not only the game but a sweet peck of your lips on his cheek, congratulating his win. He gives you a beaming smile, taking a second to cheekily wink at his opponent’s direction, before returning his gaze to the real prize. “It was all for ya, babe.”

⊛ miya osamu: the competitive

Osamu’s also very assured of himself, aware of his many qualities (his brother would disagree), but when he notices that someone wants what he wants, a key turns inside his brain and he becomes seriously competitive. With his grades, physique, food, even his own Ma became a victim of his impulsive behavior — he couldn’t back down though, or Atsumu would be the favorite. It’s not a surprise that you’d also be included on that list, being his crush for almost a year. 

To prove that he’s the best, he likes to challenge his opponents first. It can be anything, he might even let the person decide, but the rules remain the same: no cheating, and whoever loses must back off immediately. He can’t say he doesn’t feel a certain nervousness when he does those challenges; but when he compromises with something, you better be sure he goes to win. He’ll make sure of that.

And since Kai’s dumber than he looks like, it wasn’t a hard task to make the boy fall into his trap. After all, Osamu has a secret skill that most boys his age don't think it's important to get.

 “I know what you're trying with ______.” Osamu counters, having found the boy alone in the locker room after PE. Kai rolls his eyes at him, finishing drying his hair. “And what’re you gonna do about it ? I ain’t afraid of you, Miya.”

“Really?” He approaches his adversary, starting to size him with an unwavering stare. “Then ya must know she loves some homemade cookies. ‘was thinkin’ of baking her some this week.” He gives him the best smirk he has. “You're not afraid of that, are ya?”

⊛ aran ojiro: the intimidator

Aran is a lovely boy. Seriously, he has such good manners, so friendly and respectful with others, that you wish all the boys could have the same attitude. He knows that, and that’s just his personality; what he noticed though, is that many guys get intimidated by him, mostly because of his size and tone of voice. It was weird to acknowledge that in the beginning, but now he enjoys the respect he gained from that.

When he realized that some nidiot was trying to win you over, he thought: why not use that, then?

Don’t misunderstand, Aran doesn’t approve of bullying at all, and he would lift a hand to someone if it wasn’t necessary. But maybe, you know, a simple warning might convince the boy to give up. It doesn’t hurt trying.

“Hey, Kai!” Aran finds the boy eating at a table in the cafeteria, and without waiting to be invited, he sits down right next to him, placing his chair very close his. “How'ya doing man? Good? Great, listen up.” He puts one huge hand on the boy’s back, while giving him a too-friendly smile. “I like _____. But I saw you trying to ask her out yesterday. You see, it’s really hard to date a girl if someone else’s on the way, so can you do me a favor? Stay away from her.” Low and clear, Aran’s voice sends chills over the poor boy’s body. Then he grins, smacking Kai’s back like long-time friends. “Thanks, bud!”

⊛ suna rintaro: the cunning

Suna’s really clever. He knows how to be patient enough to turn any situation in his favor: for example, winning you over. He doesn’t know how long it will take, or how many steps and casualties his plan might have, but everything he does is solemnly meant to make you fall in love with him, little by little.It doesn’t matter if a stone called Kai gets in the way: he knows how to handle it.

No man is perfect, so all he needed to do was find a flaw in his opponent. It could be the most silly thing, but if it made Kai’s reputation fall just a tad, it’d become a jewel in Suna’s hands.

And after a few days of observing his opponent, Suna found out that dear Kai is a womanizer. Heck, he didn't even try to hide the fact that he’s been hitting on almost all of the girls in his class, which made Suna very pleased, being able to record him charming a girl in good sound and details.With all the evidence, Suna makes his master move, revealing the whole truth to you.

“It’s okay, ______.” And there he is, cradling you in his arms and caressing your hair gently, comforting you after you saw the video. “There’s a lot of guys like him here. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure that none of them come your way, if you let me” His smile grows when he receives your grateful words, feeling you melt into his arms like you meant to do. “You’re welcome, sweetheart. I’ll always be here for you.”

⊛ kita shinsuke: the modest

Shinsuke’s so secure. It doesn’t matter if the guy who’s trying to win you over is the most popular, handsome, or intelligent man in the country. No one can change the fact that Kita knows you, the true you, and he knows that you’re perfect for each other, even with the differences that some might point out. You have what he admires, and he surely has admirable traits to convince you. 

So all he does is treat you normally. Except that Kita’s normal is a very high level of manners and care that many boys in high school don’t even dream of having, including his opponent. 

After all, it is rare to find a boy who’ll willingly bring you your favorite warm drink before class on the cold days, or help you study on the library so you can do well on tests, or walk with you to the bus stop on the way home just to make sure that you’re safe, or even send texts and paper notes reaffirming how special and capable you are.

And you found Shinsuke, who does all of that, and so much more just to see you well. Is there really anyone who can compete with him? He doesn’t think so.

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

141 + König Jealousy Headcannons

Based on a request from anon- I suck and somehow posted my drafted one yet again☹️

Warnings: sexual references, mild angst

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon Ghost Riley-

When He Gets Jealous -

While Simon knows he is an attractive man, he still thinks that you can do much better than him

That being said, when you're around your close friends, and seem genuinely happy by their presence, Simon can't help the pit that forms in his stomach

He will get quiet and distant whenever he feels jealous. It's not a common emotion for him, and he doesn't know how to handle it

May honestly go to Johnny for advice about it

It'll take him a while to open up to you at first about his jealousy.

When he does finally come to terms with his jealousy....SCARY...DOG...PRIVELAGE

When You Get Jealous -

Let's be honest, this man is beautiful, so he constantly will have men and women vying for his attention

Simon isn't one for small talk with strangers though, so he often brushes them off politely, much to your amusement

That's not to say however, that you don't still get jealous when a fairly attractive person goes and chats him up

When he notices you get jealous, he'll make it a point to introduce you to the person who's flirting with him

Simon's not the overly affectionate type, but he would certainly make an exception if you were upset enough. He wants you to know he's yours until the end of time.

Doesn't even complain when you jump him the minute you guys get home

König-

When He Gets Jealous -

Like Simon, König isn't very vocal about his jealousy, and he will get fairly quiet

He's still fairly insecure with himself, so when he sees someone he feels is more attractive than he is, he can't help but feel self-conscious

He will subconsciously go above and beyond for you- pulling out your chair, bringing you flowers, opening the car door for you- more than he already does

He doesn't fully understand why you are with him, but he will do whatever he can to keep you

Please reassure this poor man. He loves you so much and doesn't want to lose you

When You Get Jealous -

Poor baby doesn't ever intentionally make you jealous

He tries to be nice to any person who approaches him, and it indirectly makes you jealous

He also doesn't realize when people are flirting with him, he always just thinks they're being nice

Literally will feel SO bad if you're jealous, and will apologize profusely for making you feel bad

Gets adorably flustered if you mark him up. Doesn't know what to do with himself

Say the word, and he will RAVISH you in bed to make you feel better

John Price-

When He Gets Jealous-

This man SCREAMS possessive (not in a toxic way). You are his and his alone

Will stare daggers at anyone who stares at you too long. He will make it known you're his.

Is definitely the type to waltz up to the person you're chatting with, and interrupt the two of you to introduce himself

If the person gets handsy with you? God help that person. Price would kill for you.

9/10 though, the minute his gruff, demanding voice comes out, it scares any possible suitor away from you

Will absolutely take you home and make SURE you know who you belong to ;)

When You Get Jealous-

When you get jealous, John gets pretty cocky about it

Depending on his mood, he may or may not feed into the flirting (just to see you get riled up)

Likes when you come over and make it known he's yours. He finds it cute when you get all fired up

Also finds it cute if you get all pouty about it, he will tease you quite a bit about it

Certainly won't complain if you mark him up once you get home. He'll wear those hickeys with pride

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

When He Gets Jealous-

Kyle doesn't really get jealous, and he hates the feeling of when he is. He never wants you to feel like he doesn't trust you

He may get a bit defensive if a man or woman is trying to shoot their shot with you, but he's confident enough in you and your relationship that he doesn't worry

If he does happen to get jealous, he will definitely get clingy. He'll come up and wrap his arm around you, or press a kiss to your cheek, making your relationship very apparent to the person who's talking to you

When You Get Jealous-

Kyle is very aware if he's being flirted with, or if someone's making a pass at him, and he's always quick to shut it down

Will feel really bad if you do get jealous, and will cuddle you for hours when you get home

He's the type to constantly reassure you of his affections for you. He never wants you to feel like he'd want anyone else but you

He would hesitantly admit that he gets slightly turned on by your jealousy

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

When He Gets Jealous-

Johnny is fairly confident in his good looks, and he trusts you completely, so he doesn't often get jealous

When he does get jealous, it's oftentimes because he's drunk, and you'll honestly have to hold him back so he doesn't hurt someone (or himself)

Will absolutely make a scene. He will make the entire vicinity of wherever you are aware that you're his partner

If he gets jealous when he's not drunk, he trusts you enough to let you handle it on your own, but will 100% step in like the macho man he is to get the person away from you

May or may not cover you head to toe with hickies...the worst has to know you're his

When You Get Jealous-

Johnny finds it hilarious when you get jealous, and will ABSOLUTELY tease you about it

If the two of you get drunk enough, you both like to see who can make the other get the most jealous

When either of you get jealous, it usually ends up resulting in hours between the sheets (not that either of you would complain)

If you get upset about it, though, he'll feel horrible and will smother you with affection once you get home

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[munson-blurbs]

Summary: After a beer pong challenge gone horribly wrong (or right, if you're Gareth), Eddie has to shave his head. As much as you'll miss his signature curls, you have to admit that his new look isn't all that bad...

WC: 1.6k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), drinking, beefy!Eddie, mention of Eddie's weight gain, Eddie + Reader are both 25, oral (f!receiving), unprotected p in v

Based on a request by @josephquinnsfreckles and a conversation with @blueywrites about the lengths we'd go to for beefy!Eddie.

Divider credit to @saradika

It was all Gareth’s idea. 

Gareth had been the one to crack open a Pabst can and make a snarky remark about knowing he could beat Eddie in beer pong. 

Had been the one to say that Eddie had gotten soft in the five years since graduation, to which Eddie winked at you and replied, “I think my girl would say the opposite.” 

Had been the one to up the ante with a “little bet.”

You shot Eddie a warning look that he ignored, opting instead to meet Gareth’s challenge. “Fine. When I win, you gotta let me pierce your eyebrow.”

“Okay,” Gareth rolled his eyes, “but when I win, you have to shave your head.”

At the same time as you blurted out, “absolutely not,” Eddie grinned and said, “you’re on.”

Jeff laughed from his spot on the couch. “Thank God. You’ve had the same haircut since, what? Ninth grade?”

“Eddie,” you hissed, pulling him over to the side. “You can’t get rid of your hair.”

Your boyfriend had shrugged nonchalantly as though the state of his beautiful brown curls didn’t depend on a drinking game. “Relax, babe.” He pulled you into his side. “He’s never beaten me in beer pong. None of these losers have.”

That’s why you now find yourself stationed outside of the bathroom in Grant’s apartment, too afraid to glimpse at the commotion inside. The sound of the electric buzzer was bad enough. 

The guys are all blissfully oblivious to your turmoil; even Eddie is cackling and asking Gareth to give him a mohawk. You can only assume that he obliged once you hear the four men erupt into a round of raucous laughter. 

“Last piece,” Gareth goads, a muffled zzzzzz coming from the buzzer as he presses it into Eddie’s scalp. “Aaaaand…done!”

Done. 

All of Eddie’s hair now lay on the tile floor, because he lost a bet to Gareth Emerson.  

The hair that he pulled back into a low bun before working on his motorcycle. The hair that you twirled around your forefinger whenever he kissed you. The hair that you loved weaving your fingers into as he kneeled before you, leaving teasing kisses along your inner thighs before devouring you.

If you had known he would be bald at the end of the night, you would’ve begged to let his hair tickle between your legs once more. 

“Whaddya think, babe?” Eddie peeks around the corner. His eyes, hazy from a night of drinking, stare into yours. Even drunk, he still seeks out your approval. 

Too bad you’re speechless. 

You’ve become accustomed to Eddie’s various metamorphoses. When you first met Eddie, he was lanky, only relying on assorted snacks and copious amounts of Mountain Dew. It was how he’d survived all of those years of food insecurity. And while you loved his body then, nothing could have prepared you for how he looked just two short years later. 

His biceps now hold muscle and softness; you often find yourself unable to risk the temptation of biting into them. His stomach has also acquired a slight heft, a pleasant side effect from eating three square meals a day. His jeans now cling to the curve of his ass and no longer require a belt. 

But his hair? That had always stayed the same:curls that frizzed at the first sign of humidity, worn like a badge of honor. You couldn’t picture him without it. 

If you had, there’s no way you could have imagined him looking so damn sexy. 

Eddie laughs at your shell-shocked expression, your widened eyes and dropped jaw. “That bad, Sweetheart?”

“No…’s good. Really, um, good.” Your throat is suddenly dry, and you swallow just so you don’t cough. “Can I feel it?”

He nods, and you brush your fingers over his bare scalp. Your touch is met with a soft fuzziness that was never there before. 

Long-haired Eddie looked wild and chaotic, a Tasmanian Devil of a man. But buzzed-haired Eddie looks tough. Strong. Like he’ll destroy any other man who dares look at you. 

And it makes you absolutely primal. 

“I think we broke her,” Grant whispers loudly, and the rest of the room breaks out into tipsy giggles, slapping at each other and stumbling back into the kitchen for more ill-advised drinking.

Eddie frowns, not able to read your expression. “It’ll grow back,” he says, one ringed hand rubbing your back. He lets his fingers linger on the curve of your ass and gives it an inconspicuous pinch.

“C’mere.” You take advantage of the guys’ distractedness and pull Eddie into the nearest bedroom. The moment the door shuts and the lock clicks, you’re pressing your lips to his. On instinct, his denim-clad leg slots between yours, creating a hint of friction against the seam of your own jeans.  

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” His words are muffled by the barrage of kisses. “Can’t just clobber me like this; gonna get me all worked up.”

“Maybe that’s what I want.” You drag your forefinger up his fly, relishing in the way his cock is already beginning to harden. 

Eddie practically throws you onto the bed, his biceps flexing with the sudden movement. “Gotta make this quick, yeah? Don’t want those idiots interrupting us.” With that, he tugs your pants away from your body, practically tearing off your cotton panties along with it. 

“Oh, honey,” he coos, dropping to his knees at the foot of the bed and throwing his head back. “You’re already soaked.” He smirks before nipping at the soft flesh of your thighs, alternating between kisses and bites. “All this from a little haircut?”

All you can do is nod, leaning back so he can wrap his arms around your upper legs and fully bury his face into your weeping cunt. “Mmph,” he moans against you. You reflexively reach down to grab onto his locks, stopping when you’re met with his newly buzzed hair. Instead, you pull him in closer until his nose nudges your clit. 

You say his name on an exhale, your pussy clenching around nothing as his pointer and middle fingers part your folds. You’re spread open for him, a blank canvas for him to create art. “Inside. Please.”

He might be inclined to make you beg further, but the threat of his buddies banging on the door has him relenting quickly.     

Eddie’s grip on you tightens and his fingernails leave crescent-shaped divots. A breath catches in your lungs, your mind blanking when he greedily laps up your arousal and plunges his tongue into your hole. 

His groans vibrate against you. “So much easier without my hair in the way.” He pulls back to catch his breath, his chin already shining. Brown doe eyes peer up at you, once again waiting for you to approve. 

“K-Keep going,” you mumble, only acutely aware of the party occurring in the adjacent room. “Need you so bad it hurts.”

“Don’t want my sweet girl hurting.” The pad of Eddie’s thumb makes small, concentric circles on your clit, making your whole lower body tense up in anticipation of your orgasm. “There we go. No need to pout.”

Your back arches when he dives back in. He maintains his rhythm, inhaling deeply when the bulb of his nose brushes against that sweet spot. Pleasure is right within your reach, your hips moving in tandem with his ministrations to chase that glorious high. 

It isn’t as though Eddie has ever been bad at oral; you’ve lost count of how many times he’s made you come on his tongue. But now that he doesn’t have to constantly shake his hair from his eyes—now that he has an unobstructed view of just where to touch you—he hits each stroke with perfect precision. 

“Eddie—holy sh-shit, Eddie—right there right there right fucking there!” Your release crashes over you faster than it ever has before. It’s as though Eddie has transported you to another planet, another galaxy, another universe, and you will yourself to float back down just to reciprocate the pleasure he’s given you. 

His pants button is already undone, hidden behind an oversized Metallica t-shirt, your fingers finding the hint of pudge on his lower tummy. “One of my old pairs,” he says sheepishly. 

They’re gone in a flash, along with his pre-cum stained boxers. He climbs on top of you, hard cock in his fist, and runs it through the mixture of saliva and arousal at your core. 

“‘M not gonna last long,” Eddie murmurs, locking his gaze with yours. He’s not embarrassed; he’s proud that he can bring himself to the edge just by eating out his girl. 

You can’t stop the scream that emanates from your throat when he pushes inside you, but you also can’t be bothered to care about anyone else hearing. All of your thoughts center around Eddie filling you wholly and the sacrifices you’d make to keep him inside you forever. 

He punctuates each thrust with an animalistic grunt, taking as much as he can with every snap of his hips. “My…good…girl,” he pants. “My…good…fuckin’…girl.”

“All yours. All yours, Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes roll back as you submit yourself to him. “Gonna come. Gonna come inside you, fuck, Sweetheart!” With one final movement, he spills into you. 

You cry out his name once more, letting your hand fall to the small love handle just above his hip bone. Another one of your favorite places to bite, especially when you could sneak up on him and catch him off-guard. 

He flops down, his fuzzy head tickling your jaw as he nuzzles into your neck. “The buzzcut really does it for ya, huh?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

--

[willowed-wisp]

stitches [simon ‘ghost’ riley]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x reader/you

Hopefully this doesn’t suck and makes sense for the most part. Thanks for anybody that reads this 🥰

WARNINGS: smut, descriptions of injury, body insecurity… a bit of plus size!reader

When you joined the Special Forces, you didn’t want to form attachments.

That was the only rule you held yourself to.

As a medic back at base, you thought it would be easy. Alas, fate had other plans in the form of Task Force 141.

Lead by Captain John Price- who had handpicked you for medical support- to stay back at whatever base looked like- whether it be a van or a safe house.

With that, you lived with the boys. John Price, Kyle Garrick, Johnny MacTavish and Simon Riley. You kept yourself to yourself at first, not confident among four SAS soldiers nor in yourself. Knowing of them only.

So you planned to stay huddled in the corner and quiet.

Then in the middle of the night, you came face to face with a black balaclava and a gruff voice, “Ya good?” You only remember the nightmares… more so flashbacks. They were relentless- creeping in the recesses of your mind, waiting for times when stress peaked. Unfortunately this entire ordeal was nerve-wracking.

You only noticed the warm hand on your shoulder, instinct led you to stare past the noir covering the majority of his face and into his eyes. Caring eyes.

He had no need to check if you were okay, he didn’t know you but, nevertheless, it was nice to see the lieutenant as something other than a looming figure.

The seriousness became too much to bear for you, “Do you sleep in that thing?” Using humour to take the edge off- well trying to.

“Soundly,” Earthy, rugged… British yourself, he sounded awfully English. That was when your eyes dawned on the clock- the time more specifically. 02:01.

“Do you sleep at all?” Another attempt but he didn’t laugh- your smile faded, maybe a tad intimated. He wasn’t exactly small.

He stood away, no longer crouching at your bedside. How tall was the guy? You tried to hide the wonder on your face, “Better than you… when I do get a kip…” Some pain in those words. “Better get some shut eye, Y/L/N… see ya at dawn.” You slept better knowing at least someone in 141 had your back.

After that you started integrating more with the lads. You learned that Johnny could clean his messes up exceptionally well, and that’s why he was called ‘Soap’. Price still thought the name was bullcrap but alas, not your problem.

You also noticed that Ghost never showed his face. Black face paint shrouding the skin showing around his dark eyes or his sunglasses. You preferred the face paint.

He had a habit of watching you from across the room chatting with Soap and Gaz- you blocked any possible avenues of relationships. Not that they’d be interested in you (your own thoughts). You didn’t find yourself attractive or good enough. A bit too much weight, you continued to think.

It was a good thing, you couldn’t get distracted.

That was until that day��

Supply checks… stock up on the sterilised needle and stitch thread. You barely had any use to 141, just a glorified nurse who had no business being given a code name.

“Stitches! It’s LT!” The brash Scotsman bolstered his comrade over to the gurney in the impromptu medical van. Blue eyes flashed over into yours, hulking the larger man to lay on his back.

Ghost wasn’t having any of it, attempting to sit up only for more blood to gush from his thigh. You rushed into action, “Soap, get us out of here,” said all too calmly for someone under such pressure. The man did as he was told and they were off. Meanwhile, you had pushed the lieutenant down on the bed. He grunted in pain each time he made a move, “For fuck’s sake, stay still so I can fucking see.” Blue gloves on, as he stopped wriggling, “Thank you.” You were still unimpressed but at least he listened. Unbeknownst to you under the mask he donned a pained smirk- unaware you could be so commandeering. Almost proud of you.

A grunt paused his pride, “Fuck…” Through gritted teeth. Your fingers working the tweezers with expert precision.

He went to sit up, your left hand pressed against his sturdy chest- pushing him down, “Want me to snag your femoral artery, Ghost?” In no time, a red-coated bullet laid in the metal tray and he sat there in his boxer shorts- watching you work and hitching a breath each time the needle breached skin.

They were the gentlest hands that had ever worked on him. “What happened?” Eyes boring into his as you cast off the stitch.

“Someone got the jump on me, should see ‘im,” you smiled at that, able to tell he was too. By his eyes.

The ones you dreamt of every night- except when the terrors returned. Johnny was too heavy of a sleeper to hear you, but Simon’s eyes were what you woke up to. In the flesh. He never asked what they were about, just comforted you.

When your deployment ended, and you returned home… you missed the guys. And his warm eyes whenever you returned to the land of the living.

Johnny contacted you. A pub crawl in Scotland, apparently Gaz, Price and even Simon were game.

Turns out you and Ghost didn’t live too far away. In ten minutes, a knock at your door and you met that deep gaze. “Johnny only just message ya, didn’t he?” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’m drivin’ us, don’t trust Gaz’s deathtrap…”

“Well… I just need to grab my stuff,” He started to walk away up the path to his 4x4. “You can come in and wait if you wanted?” Who was he to turn you down when you asked so nicely.

He helped you with your bags, “You sure ya gonna get through with that?”

“Haha,” dry humour, there was a reason you seemed to get on, “And if you want me to get more shit…”

You could see a glint in his eyes, “Nah, you’re alright, love…” That went straight down to between your thighs, the look on your face amused the man.

Surprisingly, the two of you weren’t awkward. Quiet here and there.

You assumed he wasn’t used to social interaction in general- especially wearing that balaclava, not good for conversation.

Simon was good to talk to, all waffled speech was redacted with him. Straight forward, sometimes sarcastic and wholly looking for banter- that’s what you preferred.

And there was no chance he would be interested in you. He has the aura of a guy who gets the attention of stunning women. Why would he want you? (You thought)

It was never going to happen.

By the end of that car ride, he learned about your messy string of exes and he had way too much Shania Twain on his playlist (and knew all of the words).

Johnny greeted you both with open arms, a tight hug for you, “You been ta’ing care of yourself, Stitches?”

“Better than you look, use more soap…” The laughs and hug came to an abrupt end- his stare directed over to Simon who loomed behind you. Was it just you, or did Johnny look scared?

“Let me show y’ where you’ll be sleepin’…”You went to grab your bags but Ghost already had it covered.

Poor you, you didn’t know what would await your stay at Johnny MacTavish’s.

The tip was a stretch, your head thrown back against the blanket pillow. Silent screams playing in your throat. He could feel the struggle and see the pleasure striking your visage. Murmurs of his name, “Si- Simon -!” Broken and whimpering. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t on the edge of losing his cool. You were pulsing around him so angelic.

“You’re takin’ me so well, lovie,” His hips took a full stroke, bracing your cervix. Thrumming and dripping wet. Another groan of his name.

The rhythm sank in, strangled moans trapped- your breathing wild against his ear. His thrusts swinging all the way back until they gutted you. Over and over. “Feels. So. GOOD -!” His hand covering your mouth, noting that the owner of the house was just next door and the other two at the end of the hall. Simon’s place supposed to be on the couch downstairs surrounded by Soap’s army memorabilia. Not right there, balls deep inside of you. Loving every second.

Cherishing every inch of you, kissing you in the moment to stay quiet so he could remain there for a while longer. So he may get some sleep, for the first time in a week.

Before you know it, his hand anchored around your ankles- spreading them to hook better. You’ve never moaned so loud in your life. Even echoing off the walls of the room. “Fuck it…” He was too far gone to care what the boys heard or thought. He had been thinking about that moment since he met you, looking so delectable with his cock hammering into you. Taking him so well.

You didn’t know if he would ever tire out, another rush of adrenaline and exhaustion swept over your limp body- numb to anything other than where his thighs slammed against your own and how raw you were going to in the morning.

Your legs fell, his grip focused at your jaw; leaning over- rubbing against sensitivity deep- and claiming your lips in a ravenous kiss that had your head spinning more than before.

Hands falling to your hips, thrusts sloppy as you tightened once again. “Where can I- ,” Drunk on how he tasted, your legs locked around his body.

“Inside,” Your hand found the base of his hair at Simon’s neck, holding on for dear life. Warmth spread downwards as your nails dug into his toned back and neck alike. A thick groan filled the air- enough to become addicted.

Neither of you panted, thriving in the silence. He savoured being hilted inside you, careful not to crush you beneath him. Hot breath spanning your collarbone. “Can’t tell ya how long I’ve wan’ed to do that…”

You felt so small against him, so yearned for. No face covering on his end, no boundaries. Laid bare to him and he wanted you anyway.

Fingers stroked at his thick hair, “Same, Si…”

Neither of you knew who fell victim to slumber first.

The morning came around, the boys had looked proud of themselves… too proud, too giddy. Especially Johnny.

“I think the gutters need check’ng, heard some weird noise last nigh’,” You’ve never threatened Johnny’s mohawk before but that day you grew close.

Price even had a glint of mischief in those clear eyes of his, “Vampires common in Scotland?” You didn’t check your neck, too caught up in the heat the previous night.

Gaz had a smirk on his face, “Not from what I know of, sir…”

Christ, you were never gonna hear the end of it.

______

masterlist

[lullabyes22-blog]

Real talk because you are THE resident Silco expert and all your headcanons are 100% correct: why does fandom think Silco would be good in bed? (Or good at sex at all?)

I've seen headcanons about him being a giver, and about his dick game being fire, and while he's a sexy, charismatic man, I feel like he's too... selfish, insecure, and just not a romantic guy. He's also a very bitter, lonely, and angry dude. Idk, it makes sense he would have some kinks but I feel like he'd be too much of a bitch to care for anyone else in bed. I guess he'd want it rough, and I've read some fics where he's a sadist, but I feel like it'd just be a quick fuck to satisfy himself, not a slow, passionate, sensual thing.

idk, do with this what you will.

I agree - with nuance 💗

Silco - at least as I write him in FNF - is principally a headfuck. If he's demonstrating an interest in you, then he wants something from you. If he's nice to you, there's a bottom line. No act of generosity comes without strings attached, and every small kindness comes at a terrible price. That aspect of cold-blooded calculus is never far away from his base nature, which splits the world into assets and liabilities, and his own actions into a transaction of cost versus reward.

With that in mind, he excels, not at sex, but at getting his partners to do what he wants them to do. For him, it's one of the many fluid ways of expressing power, and demonstrating his mastery over the subtleties of the human body and mind.

A few readers have noticed that he comes across as very detached and controlled during FnF's sex scenes - and that they read as weirdly voyeuristic. That always delights me, because it's an intentional choice. He doesn't really see his partner as anything beyond a medium to his goals, so his focus is entirely on their physical responses and his own actions. His narration is distant, observational and impersonal, because he doesn't experience sex as something that involves an emotional or empathetic connection. Rather, he's gauging how his target's responses play out on a physical plane, and he's calibrating his own actions to maximise their impact.

To give credit where credit is due, he's very intelligent, patient and observant. There is also some realistic backing to the running gag that Good D is invariably attached to Bad Men. More specifically, Bad Broke Men. Silco has not grown up in a position of privilege or wealth. He has been forced to make use of every available resource. He has survived by the skin of his teeth on a constant knife edge of deprivation, hunger and fear.

He's a scrapper. He's a survivor. He's an opportunist.

And to be any of those things, you need to know your way around people: their wants and weaknesses. That's the foundation for the idea that he's good in bed - that he can anticipate his partner's desires, and respond accordingly. The difference is, his actions have no romantic underpinning. It's a matter of pure pragmatism and self-interest.

In terms of technical skill, he's likely very good at finding his partner's pressure points, both literal and figurative, and exploiting them. But if it were up to him, he'd find a way to turn the thumbscrews with nothing more than a well-chosen word and a cold look. The sex is just a generality, and his enjoyment a function of their compliance.

When it comes to actual intimacy?

My friends, he'd be spectacularly bad.

Not just bad, but skittish, hostile and hopelessly inept. He'd feel like an accomplished stage actor who has to step out onto the boards for an improv class. He hasn't got the right lines, he isn't dressed for the part, and he isn't even sure what role he's supposed to be playing. He'd be so awkward, he'd actually have trouble looking his partner in the eyes. The sum total of his sexual ouvre would devolve into the following comedy of errors:

"What the fuck is this?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Don't touch me there."

"This is going well, right?"

"Why can't I get it up?"

"I can't do this."

"Leave me alone."

"Where are you going?"

"Don't leave me."

"They always leave me."

"Why does everyone leave me?"

And he'd only spiral deeper into self-loathing and isolation. To submit to intimacy is to open oneself up to the mortifying ordeal of being known, and the constant risk of rejection. To Silco, it is anathema. Actual emotional vulnerability during sex would be not unlike attending his own public execution.

But.

Silco is not a one-note villain, much less a one-trick pony. He has a human history riven in deprivation, bloodshed and betrayal. He's remade himself from a 'weak' man into the premier kingpin of Zaun, but that predatory bracing still hides remnants of the soft-natured idealist he once was. In fact, he's the product of a deeply embedded internal conflict between two distinct versions of himself. The one who seeks to burn his enemies, and the one who seeks to save his city. He's also, as demonstrated by his love for Jinx, capable of profound devotion, loyalty, and a deep-seated longing for companionship.

That means the potential for romance exists. It's just buried deep, deep, deep down beneath years of abuse, neglect, trauma, and self-imposed barriers. If he meets someone who can dismantle those barriers, or bypass them altogether and earn his trust, there is a ray of hope.

Sex would still be frightening and uncomfortable, and it'd involve a lot of trial and error. But it'd also have the potential to be deeply healing. Not because Silco would become a better man, but because his partner would make him want to try. He'd also bring the same intense focus, intelligence, and determination to the task that he applies to his criminal empire - which means that, once he does have his sea legs, Silco would have the potential to become a truly giving lover.

It's all about context.

And the context is always: will he take the gamble when he has nothing to lose, and everything to gain?

[jujutsukaisenwriting]

JJK Men Relationship Headcanons

Note: these are the hcs I believe would be true for JJK characters based on manga & anime!

Gojo Satoru:

Anxious / avoidant attachment type

Can be ignorant towards partner’s needs and is not the best listener BUT can learn

Is not familiar with the “compromise” concept

Kinda delulu about how life works due to his upbringing and powers

His love language is words of affirmation and quality time

Is very clingy due to his own insecurities and doesn’t understand why you’d need “alone time” if you two are together, duh

On a brighter note, is really caring and VERY loyal to the person whom he genuinely loves

Nanami Kento:

Though Nanami is considered a green flag, I have a feeling he might be a bit over-controlling or “I know better” type

Like, he’ll do anything for you but he might not consider whether you need it in the first place

Is SO GOOD at communicating though

Also, his kink is spoiling you

The first months of the relationship might be bumpy as he might try to do everything “by rules” aka “as it’s supposed to be”

DAD MATERIAL

Aoi Todo:

Honestly? One of the greenest flags (in addition to Yuji and Choso)

Loving, attentive, caring, protective but not possessive… I can honestly go on forever

Always looks and smells great (WHICH IS CANON BTW)

Knows what he wants and goes for it

Is also very respectful and is most probably a great listener

I see him as the most reasonable and reliable person to get into a relationship with and I’ll die on that hill

Toji Fushiguro:

Unpopular opinion but he is a) fine and b) actually ready for a relationship

Like come on, the guy was happily married

He will probably have trust issues at first due to trauma and it will take quite some time for him to open up

Over protective and might be hard to negotiate with, at least during the first half a year or so

Is falsely accused of not giving a shit or being too cold / distant. In reality, he is pretty caring and intense about his emotions

Choso Kamo:

Another unpopular opinion but I don’t really like when he is portrayed as super vulnerable, inexperienced, “baby princess” and etc

Choso is BADASS

Super protective and caring but also believes in people whom he loves and lets them go out there and test their limits

Meaning, he’d probable be worried sick for you but won’t lock you down in case of danger

Can be a bit too clingy and insecure in a relationship

A great listener and learner and is very grounded and reasonable

His best quality is that Choso is not afraid to walk up to people and ask questions if he has doubts about anything

Yuji Itadori:

My boy is another green flag

Yuji has a unique ability to see beyond one’s appearance and recognize inner beauty in people

He is very fun to be around but can be serious when needed

I feel he is great at communicating his feelings and thoughts and expects the same from his partner

Is very creative and takes initiative a lot

Might not take hints well due to him being extremely straightforward but that’s not really a flaw

Hiromi Higuruma:

Another overworking husband

Don’t hate me but I feel like Hiromi is slightly better in communication and the overall relationship thing than Nanami

He has this calm vibe of a good listener around him

I believe he’d actually care not to overwork too much so he can spend more time with his partner

Will buy you flowers regularly - but will use calendar reminders for that (which still counts)

Might worry too much about not spending enough time with you

Always makes you laugh

[empresskylo]

ghost headcanons?!! 🙏🥹

headcanons involve reader being referred to as "she" and afab.

♡ it took you a while to even realize simon was interested in you. the man does not communicate well. my guy would stare at you and you’d think he’s pissed off, but really he’s just trying to get your attention. he’d tease you during missions and you’d just assume he’s being kinda mean. he'd roll his eyes at stupid remarks you'd make, not knowing he was smiling under his mask. he seemed to avoid any direct training with you and you assumed he didn't think you worthy of his time, but really, he just wasn't sure what he'd do if he was forced to be that close to you... touching you.

♡ it isn’t until one day when you’re sparring with soap that ghost steps in. you’re busy tackling soap to the ground, both of you bursting out into a fit of giggles as you straddle him. when simon enters the room his fist automatically tightens. when soap looks up, he immediately stops laughing and shoves you off of him (affectionately). later that night, johnny approaches simon. “hey, Lt. just so you know, there’s nothing between me and—“ “why is that any of my business?” johnny looks at him, his eyebrows quirking upwards. “you know why.” simon grumbles something and storms off.

♡ the day you actually realize ghost likes you is when you’re walking around base in far less clothing than usual. Normally you were either all geared up, covered head to toe, or in a more relaxed sweat attire for relaxing around base. But today there was a heat wave. your hair was down, clinging to your face from the sweat, your abdomen exposed as you walked by him in a cropped tank, your small spandex shorts riding up. ghost did a double take. you teased him (not thinking anything of it; you would have teased any of the men.) “like what you see, Lt.?” ghost glared at you, unable to say anything. your eyes widened. shit, he actually did like what he was seeing.

♡ he is a very, very jealous man. he's not insecure or anything like that, he just can't help but seethe when he sees you acting a little too friendly with anyone else. he wants that side of you all to himself. he also can't stand watching other men come onto you, or acting a little too handsy. he's often ready to chop a man's hand off just for even thinking about flirting with you.

♡ one day as you're just strolling around base, heading to the gym for some training, gaz spied you, looking you up and down. he nudged ghost, who was standing beside him, in a check-her-out gesture; y’know, typical guy stuff. when gaz looked up, ghost was already glaring down at him, not nodding in agreement like he thought he would be. gaz choked, extremely uncomfortable under Lt.‘s death glare (no one likes when ghost had that fury in his eyes). “don’t look at her like that ever again.” gaz raised his hands, a bit panicked, not sure what he did wrong. “okay, shit.” “i’m serious, gaz. i will fucking kill you.” (always the dramatics with ghost.)

♡ you were rather close with soap, and so was simon, but it still bothered him seeing you two together. simon watched as your face visibly blushed at some remark soap made. that alone infuriated him. But then the two of you burst into giggles, your hand reaching out and grabbing soap’s forearm as you leaned forward, laughing. shortly after, you found your way to simon brooding in the corner. “what’s up your ass?” you asked teasingly, but simon wasn’t feeling the same humor as you were. “oh, i’m sorry,” he said with sarcasm, “should i be smiling and jumping up and down with joy as i watch my girlfriend’s face flush as she sits there giggling with another man?” you were surprised—not because simon was acting jealous, but because it was over soap of all people. you and simon both were friends with johnny. “simon…” you said breathlessly, getting him to look down at you, his eyes immediately softening as he looked at you. he sighed, “i know, i know,” he said raising his hands to rub the back of his head. “i just can’t help it. i hate seeing you respond to others like how you respond to me,” his hand came out and cupped your jaw, his thumb resting on your lower lip. “i jus' want you all to myself.”

♡ ghost is needy (-: he’s just a big brute of a man who likes leaning into your chest as you cradle his head, running you hands through his hair, relaxing him. nothing wrong with that.

♡ i mean, this man has some serious trauma, so it’s safe to say the first time you ever comforted him, he was… surprised. unsure of what to do or how to react. he wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction from you. and at first he was put off. he didn’t need that kind of coddling, he was supposed to be an anchor for you, not the other way around. but he succumbed to your soft touches and gentle words, eventually tearing up, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, your lap, or your chest while you would run fingers through his hair or rub his back, caressing him as much as you could. and eventually, that became something simon craved. sought out. dreamt about. god, he never would have thought he’d be the type of person who would seek out your comforting hugs, wanting to hold you close against his chest as your fingers danced across his skin. or when you’d lay next to him in bed, you’d stroke his jaw, run your thumb over his lips, rest your hands on his chest right above his heart, and simon would shut his eyes, feeling his own form of safety in your arms.

♡ and yes he loves to cuddle and hold you close, but sometimes it felt so fucking good to be held by you. if you were laying on the couch, he’d crawl on top of you, stopping to rest his head on your chest, his heavy body squishing you, his arms coming up to wrap around you as he lay on top of you, your hands twirling strands of his hair.

♡ but he also loved to hold you in his arms and comfort you. there was something so powerful in feeling needed by someone else. he both loved and hated it. but mostly loved it. he liked to be the big spoon, pulling you against his chest, curling into you, literally engulfing you. his favorite thing was when you would sit on his lap though. sometimes you'd lay in his lap, like if you were watching tv, and sometimes you'd come to him, straddle him, and he'd wrap his arms around you, letting you nuzzle into his neck while he traced circles on your back under your shirt.

♡ simon, as much as he attempts to act all stoic and emotionless, is actually very emotional and passionate.

♡ i mean, just by seeing how jealous he gets says a lot. but he also feels other strong emotions. like anger and love.

♡ when ghost realized he loved you, it ate him up from the inside. he had this burning, heady love for you and he didn’t know how to show it. everyone around him seemed capable of expressing their feelings, so why couldn’t he? he just wasn't used to it. he suppressed emotions close to him for so long, it was hard to let them back out again. he would usually profess his love for you when he's had too much to drink. or late at night while you were curled into him after a long mission. it was always after long and difficult missions that he wanted to tell you how he felt the most. he'd usually whisper it in your ear, reminding you how much he cares for you. you'd tell him that you're not going anywhere and simon would squeeze you tighter in response. just those few simple words meant so much to him. he couldn't stand the idea of losing you.

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖

♡ size kink! size kink! size kink! he's very comfortable in his stature and he is so obsessed with being bigger than you. he loves how tiny your hands look in his. loves having to look down at you, especially when you're mad at him because having to look up at him made you feel silly while you were trying to yell at him. and his stupid smirk didn't help.

♡ and i'm just gonna say it, my guy has a big dick. like the energy matches what's in the pants. and he really enjoys watching you squirm under him while he bottoms out. it always takes a bit to fit him inside and he never gets over that. the way you whimper every fucking time drives him mad.

♡ praise kink!!!! yes sir. he loves to praise YOU. its his favorite thing. its so crazy to him that when he's balls deep inside you, his cute little comments about how good you feel or how pretty you are, makes you blush/get all shy. "you're being so good for me, baby." "god, you feel so fucking amazing." "you're so damn tight." "good girl." "just like that." "fuck, the sounds you're making are so hot." "i'm not gonna last much longer if you keep doin' that, love."

♡ he also likes to call you such cute pet names. it's a nice juxtaposition to the dark, rough exterior he presents. especially when he likes to tease and make crude jokes with the guys. but then he'll whisper something to you so no one else can hear and he'll call you 'princess.'

♡ his favorite names to call you: pet, princess, love, sweet girl!!!! god damn, just hearing his thick accent calling you those names has me swooning. his favorite to use while you're having sex is pet and sweet girl. "gimmie those eyes, sweet girl." "gettin' shy on me now, pet?" other names he likes to call you, just not as regularly: "baby, baby girl, little *insert cute animal here* (little fox, little dove, little doe), sunshine.

♡ he likes when you call him pet names even though he might pretend to hate it. loves specifically being called: my love, handsome, bear, cutie (he'll give you shit for this one, but he always has a shit-eating grin on under his mask when you call him that), big guy.

♡ he's dominant. like so dominant. he likes to be in control. he likes to watch you whither beneath him. he likes to know he's the one doing this to you. the only one. "tell me i'm the only- fuck -one. tell me I'm the only one who makes you come like this."

♡ enjoys missionary a lot because he can look at you in the eyes. he definitely likes to be making eye contact while he fucks you. which is super important to him, especially considering how fucked up his past is, he needs this kind of trust and closeness when he's fucking you.

♡ doggy style is fun, and his hands always leave bruises on your hips. but usually when he takes you from behind, you're both standing. that or he has you bent over something.

♡ he likes to fuck you from behind while standing, his hand gripped around your neck, pulling you up to him so he can see your face and kiss your neck.

♡ he is very much a tease. he likes to torture you all day, making you beg for it at the end of the night. you on your knees is his favorite sight. "tell me what you want, love." "you're gonna have to ask nicer than that." "beg for it."

♡ simon had you on your knees before him, your pants missing but your shirt still in place, your hands twisting the hem of it as you looked at him. his hand came out to stroke your chin, tilting it towards him as he rubbed his thumb along your lower lip. "what do you want from me, pet?" he asked, tilting his head as he appraised you. you gulped. "you." your words were whispered, a cynical smirk forming on simon's lips. "you're gonna have to be more specific than that." you were about to just demand he fuck you, you were getting so impatient, but you knew he only would if you asked sweetly. your face felt hot, shy all of a sudden. simon knew you got shy when he made you beg, and fucking hell, he loved seeing you like that. "i want you to fuck me, simon." he smiled, kicking up a brow. "please," you added. "well since you asked nicely," he said undoing his belt. "but first, you'll have to earn my cock." he lowered his pants and freed himself, his tip already glistening in precum. his hand slid down your jaw and pushed fallen strands of hair behind your ear. "open up that pretty little mouth of yours," he cooed.

[bluebeary-jay]

How easy you are to need

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel notices that the peaceful life in Jackson has its consequences. he is not happy about it (based on this wonderful ask!)

Tags: TONS OF ANGST, but also FLUFF, established relationship, ahh intrusive thoughts (how much i hate them), Joel is probably ooc but i don't care anymore, also he's soft and insecure and vulnerable

Warnings: body dismorphia and lots of self-loathing on Joel's side, at one (two?) points borderline on smut ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) hihihi, swearing, drinking (just mentioned), suggestive stuff bc apparently i can't help myself 😌

Word count: 8K ! (8028 specifically woah)

A/N: the next fic will definitely be shorter bc i really need to start caring less about the quality of my work, it takes way too long for my liking. buuut anyway as always 🎶i hope yall will like it🎶 this is my birthday gift for you guys 💕

Joel looked at himself in the mirror with furrowed brows.

He pulled in his stomach and tried to zip his pants. It still fit, but barely. He undid the zip, turned to the side and looked at his reflection again, just to make sure.

Yeah. This pair was definitely loose until a while ago.

He glanced at the door, but didn’t hear you coming, so he sighed and looked in the mirror again. Joel was never particularly muscular, but he could no longer see those thin lines which accentuated his torso before. There was also a bit of fat above the hem of his jeans, and his frame seemed somehow heavier…

Good thing his left ear was directed to the door, because he heard the moment the water in the shower stopped running, which meant you were coming back from the bathroom. Joel spared himself one last wary look and zipped up his pants before turning around to your shared bed where his shirt lay discarded.

He was putting his arms into the sleeves when you entered. A couple of light steps, and then Joel smiled when he felt your arms wrapping around his torso. He glanced over his shoulder at you.

“You took your sweet time in the shower,” he pointed out, and he could feel your smile when you pressed your face to his back.

“We finally have hot water, so I’m gonna use it every chance I get.”

“You left some for me?”

You huffed a laugh and went around him, moving his hands away and starting to button his shirt yourself.

“There would be, if you took a shower with me.”

“Next time, sweetheart,” he chuckled and leaned in to kiss your forehead softly, combing his fingers through your wet hair. He hummed. “Your hair smells nice.”

“It’s that shampoo Ellie didn’t want.” You shook your head with a smile. “I have no idea why, it’s fantastic.”

You buttoned up the last button and smoothed your palms over his chest and down, lastly resting them on his waist. Internally Joel furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if he could always feel this fold when you put your hands in that place.

“You look handsome,” you whispered, looking up at him with twinkling eyes and such a soft, love-struck expression on your face that Joel felt his throat constricting. Everything but the sight of you faded from his mind, and he joined his hands behind your back, pulling you closer into his chest and basking in this precious smile you blessed him with. “Especially with the bed hair.”

“It’s your doin’, you know,” he murmured in response, nudging your nose with his and reminiscing how you tugged and raked your nails through his hair the night before. “You gotta be careful with it, sweet girl. If you continue doin’ it, m’gonna go bald soon.”

You hummed noncommittally and leaned against his chest, standing on your tip-toes. “I’ll take it under consideration. No promises, though.”

Joel lifted his hand to the back of your neck and kissed you slowly, reveling in the soft sigh that left your lips. You rested your palm above his heart, leaning forward to the point that you would fall over if he wasn’t supporting your weight.

But Joel held you tight and close to his body, gladly steadying you as you deepened the kiss, once again tugging on his graying hair in that way he adored. He wanted to tease you about it, but his thoughts strayed to the image of his body again when you lowered your hand from his chest to his side.

“You remember that tonight is this party?” you asked suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts. Joel gave up pondering about his physique and sighed heavily at your question, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Yeah, I remember. Regrettably.”

“I don’t want to go, either,” you whispered with guilt, as if someone would hear you both. “But Tommy really wanted us to come and… Just don’t make me go alone.”

“Hey, darlin’.” Joel took your face in his hands and looked deeply into your eyes. “I promised, didn’t I? M’not gonna leave you there on your own.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, smiling against them. “And mind you, I gotta make sure no one will try to seduce and steal you away from me.”

You giggled, and you were standing so close that Joel could feel your eyelashes tickling his skin. He held you close when you tried to take a step back, and your lips collided again.

“That is the one thing you don’t need to ever worry about,” you murmured quietly into the space between you two. “How could I even look at other people when I have you all to myself?”

Joel’s reflection in the mirror flashed across his mind again and a small wave of uncertainty rippled through him, but it quickly disappeared when you opened your eyes and looked at him with this raw love radiating from them. Your every word, every affectionate gesture only confirmed his conviction that you meant every word you said.

So why did he still feel so uncertain?

*****

Life in Jackson was perfect. Considering the state of the world right now, living here was like winning a lottery.

Joel had a lot to be thankful for, he was well aware of that. No longer had he any fears or sense of guilt about going to sleep and leaving you and Ellie defenseless if something were to happen. He didn’t have to count rations anymore, worrying that the kid would be forced to march all day hungry. There was now no need to keep a watchful eye for new clothes if someone’s worn off, ripped or got soaked from walking in the rain, posing a threat of you or Ellie catching a cold.

Back in Boston it wasn’t much different, though he and you had at least a bed to sleep in, as uncomfortable as it was. But there was never enough food for all those people Fedra kept there, and the winters were cold as hell, leaving at least one of you a bit sick every year.

None of those things were keeping him awake at night anymore. The only people he had to take care of – you and Ellie – were safe and comfortable. None of you had to starve or freeze, and you all didn’t have to continue walking across the country for days and days without end, struggling to survive.

Maybe that was the problem.

Joel wasn’t stupid. He knew that those luxuries he had an access to now were at the root of his problem. Before you all settled in Jackson, you were constantly on the move, fighting for your lives in one way or another, so of course he was… leaner and more fit back then. It was never something he paid attention to, though, never something he concerned himself with.

But now you three were living here, surrounded by more people than Joel could count, and he couldn’t help but… notice things about them.

Especially about all those men and women who looked at you in a different way.

Due to the nature of the party Tommy invited them to – mainly consisting of dancing and talking in the biggest bar in Jackson – Joel had a lot of time to ponder about his situation, all while nursing his drink and looking at you from across the room with his elbows resting on the table.

You were chatting with one of your friends near the counter, laughing and smiling so beautifully. No matter where Joel’s eyes strayed, they always came back to your person, as if you were the moon against the pitch black sky, reflecting some imperceptible light.

Some guy he knew by sight – Chuck? Bart? – walked up and tapped you on the shoulder, and from what Joel could tell, he was offering you a drink. He was standing way too close, though, and you took a step closer to your friend, shaking your head. Chuck – or Bart – persisted for another half a minute, but eventually shrugged and shuffled off, his movements tense.

Joel didn’t move. He knew from experience that you’d let him know if you needed his help.

As if sensing his gaze, you turned your head and sent him a radiant smile. He mirrored it, lifting his glass slightly like he was toasting you, which made you do the same before resuming the conversation with your friend.

His smile disappeared as soon as you stopped looking at him. Joel sighed and rubbed his eyes with his fingers, feeling a headache coming from the dull lights and loud chatter all around.

It were moments like this when it hit him just how old he was compared to you.

You were a sweet, young thing. Funny, sharp, drop-dead gorgeous… No wonder some people were seeking your attention. That guy was just one of the half a dozen he saw or heard about since you moved to Jackson.

Joel knew you were a loyal sort – God, he knew that, he knew you for so long now – but every time he saw you talking to someone else, his treacherous mind started to wonder if he wasn’t somehow keeping you chained to his person.

It was probably alcohol talking, but Lord, if he wasn’t reminded of how old he was compared to you every time he saw you next to your peers. You still had so much life ahead of you, and he was pushing sixty, for fuck’s sake. Before long he’ll be old and decrepit, unable to bring something useful to the table or help you in any way, and you’d still be as pretty as ever, trapped in a relationship with an old man.

For example, that guy – Chuck, or whomever – was way closer to your age, had handsome features, and Joel knew for a fact he was working at tree felling, so he had to be muscular, too.

Joel was once, too. Once.

He subtly ran his hand across his stomach under the jacket, his brows furrowed, and leaned back on the bench to get rid of those damned fat folds.

He sighed and downed the rest of the liquor in his glass, trying very hard not to think about it, not to put himself down like that and let those cruel thoughts fester in his mind, but no matter what, he couldn’t stop comparing himself to this guy, and also… how you looked next to him.

Shit. What if he was doing you more harm than good by continuing to stay with you?

“I could pickpocket you and you wouldn’t notice.”

Joel looked up, abruptly pulled out of his thoughts. You were standing over his table with your head tilted and still that beaming smile on your face.

“What are you thinking about, handsome?”

He opened his mouth, glanced in the direction of the bar, and closed it. There was no sign of any of the people you just talked with.

“Nothin’,” he replied, maybe a little too dryly, so he quickly changed the subject. “You havin’ fun?”

“Yeah, it’s nicer than I thought.” You looked around and then spotted the empty glass on the table in front of him. “Do you want me to bring you another one?”

“No, there’s no need,” he grumbled, but you had already put your drink down and sent him a wink.

“I'll be right back, baby.”

Joel hissed your name but you just looked over your shoulder with a smirk, swinging your hips provocatively to the music and ignoring him completely. He sighed heavily, slumping in his seat.

He needed to get his shit together. Fuck his insecurities, he didn’t want to take his frustration out on you when you were nothing but a ray of sunshine in his life, always so good and affectionate.

Joel’s thoughts came to a sudden stop when he searched for you in the crowd and noticed another man, this time one he didn’t know, swinging his arm over your shoulders while you waited at the bar. He tried to read your body language from here, but you didn’t seem particularly uncomfortable with the man’s actions. Joel furrowed his brows, a pit of uncertainty forming in his stomach again... but then you threw the man’s heavy limb off your shoulders and went back to Joel’s table as soon as you got the drink.

“Thanks, darlin’,” he murmured, taking a large gulp despite telling himself earlier that he was done drinking for today. “Were you okay back there?” He pointed his chin towards the bar.

You sat down next to him and smiled innocently. “Whatever do you mean?”

Joel knew you long enough to recognize when you were teasing him, and he smirked despite the doubts swirling in his mind.

“Was that guy givin’ you any trouble?” he asked lazily, deciding to play along.

“Would you beat the shit out of him if I said yes?” you asked with your eyebrows raised, and Joel shrugged, acting nonchalant.

“Probably.”

You giggled and bumped his shoulder with yours playfully.

“Then no. Peter’s a good guy. Just a little,” you seemed to be looking for the right word, “uhm, persistent.” When Joel sent you a dubious look, you rolled your eyes and made a face. “He’s politely hitting on me, but doesn’t get that I’m not interested. He works at the same place I do.”

“If he keeps makin’ you uncomfortable, that’s not very polite.” You squinted at him and Joel lifted his hands in fake surrender. “M’not sayin’ anythin’. You can take care of yourself, I know that.”

You hummed melodically and glanced at the bar, then back at Joel. Then back at the bar again where that Peter guy stood. Joel noticed you biting the inside of your cheek, so he gently nudged your knee with his.

“What’s on your mind, sweet girl?”

“Maybe you could help me make it clear that I’m taken?” you blurted out quickly, making him crack a smile and chuckle under his breath.

It was so very easy to forget about all the problems in the world when you were there, sitting right next to him and warming his soul and body with your mere presence.

“Come ‘ere,” he breathed and tugged you gently to sit on his lap. You faltered, but he gave your hand another light tug, and finally you let him guide you, putting one arm around his shoulders and making yourself comfortable.

Joel’s hand mindlessly went to rest on your thigh and he rubbed it comfortingly. That Peter guy, as he noted with satisfaction, was staring right back at you, eyeing the way your body was pressed flush against Joel’s with a twisted face.

Once the eyes of the both men met, Joel leaned in and kissed your neck, keeping eye contact the entire time. Peter turned away, taking a large swig from his glass.

Joel felt your muscles relaxing, and you giggled adorably next to his ear at his antics, hiding your neck between your shoulders when he nibbled at your skin lightly. Then your hand covered his, the one lying on your thigh, and stroked his skin lovingly.

Maybe Joel was keeping you chained somehow. Then again, he was but a selfish creature after all. He didn’t know if he could bring himself to ever truly let you go.

*****

The next few days – which then turned into weeks – Joel spent wondering. Mostly about what to do with his predicaments.

He had a couple of them.

The first problem was the nights. They became more difficult since he noticed… details about himself that weren’t there before, and which bothered him more and more with each day.

Joel used to love the nightfall, especially since you all settled in Jackson. In those evening hours no one bothered him, he could finally relax, spend some time alone with you, and later collapse on the bed to get a good-night sleep.

Well, not anymore.

The bedtime unexpectedly became the most stressful one for him. He was so fucking mad at himself, because laying down and having a chance to hold you in his arms was something he treasured for the longest time, but now his own insecurities stood in a way of it.

You loved cuddling and being close to him in your sleep, and Joel was never bothered by it – hell, he initiated those moments more often than not. But now he started noticing more and more how this layer of fat on his stomach moved and looked like when you draped your arm around him or snuggled closer to his chest, and it became all he could think about.

It bothered Joel so much that he started wearing a t-shirt to bed, even though he hated it with all his passion. When you asked about it, he lied that he’s cold, but in reality he was always sweaty by morning. It didn’t seem to make any difference to you, though, and you didn’t shy away from pressing your body close to his, and even slipping your hands under his shirt when you were spooning him. Some days Joel was waking up with you lying on his chest or having your arm slung across his belly, and every time it caused a lump in his throat.

He knew you didn’t mean anything bad by it – for God’s sake, you probably didn’t even have any idea that he had a problem with himself – but what once was a wonderful start of the day, now became a bitter reminder of all those things he was insecure about.

Recently he built a habit of waking up before you – he did it often before, but he always stayed in bed and waited for you to open your eyes, too – and carefully disentangling himself from your embrace. It wasn’t like it didn’t feel wonderful to be enveloped by you in this way, but once he stirred awake, lying still was a herculean task. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, his skin was itching and buzzing, he was sweating from nerves and a lot of horrible, self-depriving thoughts were flooding his mind.

So once he woke up, he’d go take a shower, trying to be a little bit louder than necessary in hopes that you’d already be awake when he gets back – so that he wouldn’t feel so guilty about not laying back down next to you.

The second of his problems was that you began to watch him more closely.

He didn’t know when it started happening, but in hindsight he realized it was just a matter of time – he was acting weird, after all, and you knew him too well not to notice anything.

A couple of times in the last few days only, Joel caught you staring at him in silence. Your eyes were solemn and your forehead sad, though you were quick to smile and act like nothing was amiss as soon as he turned your way.

You must have known something was wrong, but Joel didn’t ask about it. Honestly, with all that was happening in his own head, he didn’t want to know.

But at the same time it was as if nothing odd was happening. You were your usual self, a blessing in Joel’s life, and you still sought to be close to him and spend as much time together as possible. You still told him you loved him, surprised him with unexpected gestures of affection…

Just like today – you hugged him from behind while he was dressing up, started kissing his shoulders so tenderly and murmuring sweet nothings into his skin… In those moments Joel could almost forget about everything that was nagging him. It was easy to believe that you still liked the way he looked, that he was deserving of you, when you treated him with nothing but overwhelming love.

But the itch in the back of his mind never really disappeared. Even though he wanted it to.

Those thoughts filled his mind while you were sitting on his lap, telling him some story from work in a soft voice. You two were at Tommy’s, waiting for him to get back from helping his wife with something, and the day was so beautiful that you all went out onto the patio in front of the house to enjoy the unusually warm weather for this time of the year.

Joel’s hand was on your thigh, stroking it absentmindedly, while he nodded to whatever you were saying, but for the life of him, he could not focus.

Has your physique changed as well? Joel didn’t care about those things, of course, and in his eyes you were as breathtaking as ever – maybe even more, since so many of your worries disappeared and he got to see your smile more often. And you still felt perfect under his hands when he was holding you at night, still looked like a goddess every time he got to admire your naked body.

But even though he wouldn’t have cared either way if you gained some weight or looked any different, his body still bothered him.

You rested your head on his shoulder, and Joel fixed his attention to the wind-blown tree crowns in the distance.

Maybe he should start exercising.

Joel never liked the idea of waking up early and running down the streets in a sweat-soaked t-shirt, or going to the gym where everyone seems to stare and judge you, but it was never necessary.

With how much traveling, heavy-lifting and working he had to do, he never concerned himself with the way he looked. Hell, these things are the last on your mind when you’re fighting for your life in this god-forsaken world. But here, in Jackson, it was different. Life was good, and you were happy. And as stupid as it sounded for him, Joel wanted to look good for you.

Maybe he should ask Maria to assign him to extra patrols. He already volunteered for the morning ones, but perhaps…

“You’re quiet.”

Joel didn’t realize you stopped telling your story. He pressed his lips together and his hand on your thigh stilled.

“Sorry.”

“No need for that,” you reassured him quickly. Then you cupped his cheeks and lifted his head gently. “I don’t mean ‘now’, though, I mean… lately, in general.” Your eyes were flickering across his face, like you were hoping to read the answer from his features. “Is there something you wanna talk about?”

No. Hell no. It was bad enough that Joel himself was aware of his issue, he didn’t want to make it even more noticeable by pointing it out to you.

Which reminded him – he moved his torso away from you only a few millimeters.

“No, babygirl,” he answered. He brushed some hair behind your ear, smiling softly even though inside he despised himself for lying to you. “Everythin’s fine.”

You didn’t seem convinced and still were studying his face with concern. Joel resumed petting your thigh, wanting to put you at ease. He could worry about himself, but he didn’t need to concern you with his problems, too.

“I promise,” he added. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

That look in your eyes didn’t disappear, but you hummed and dropped your hands. It didn’t take a genius to know you didn’t believe him.

“If you say so,” you answered at last, and then covered his hand on your leg with your own. “But remember you can talk to me whenever you want. About anything.”

Jesus, your kindness was only confirming his concerns if he was the right person for you. Joel shook his head with a crooked smile.

“You’re gettin’ sappy.”

“It’s because I’m worried,” you shot back without skipping a beat, swatting at his chest with the back of your hand. “And you’re not making it any easier.”

“There’s nothin’ for you to worry about,” he repeated, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. But he failed.

You pressed your lips together and then made a move to get up from his lap without a word. Joel held onto you delicately, not letting you stand up.

“Wait, darlin’,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “Didn’t mean to say it that way. I just… feel tired. Sorry.”

Your eyes softened when you took in the regret and weariness on his face. Joel felt your fingertips on his jaw, but before you could question him further, Tommy returned from the inside of the house with a grin.

“Age is a heavy burden, eh, ol’ dog?” he teased, apparently having heard the last bit of their conversation. The younger Miller placed three bottles of beer on the table, and winked at you. “That’s just how it is for us now. Enjoy your youth while you still can, punk.”

Joel felt a sharp jab in his ribs, not unlike being stabbed. He couldn’t find it in himself to look at his brother, less alone laugh at his teasing.

Of course Tommy didn’t mean anything bad by it, but his words were just a bitter reminder of the ever-present pit of Joel’s stomach.

The weight of you on his lap suddenly felt a lot lighter, and he himself felt so, so very heavy and tired.

Old.

Joel could feel your eyes boring into his face, but a second later you turned to Tommy, taking the burden of filling the uncomfortable silence.

“It’s already started for me. Sometimes I feel like my bones want to kill me prematurely.”

“M’sure Joel won’t let that happen. He’d fight your skeleton if you said it’s botherin’ you.”

You snorted and shook your head, but your smile faltered when you turned to Joel again. He almost broke down right then and there from the guilt and tightness in his chest.

And the dark feeling inside him just grew when your eyes stayed sad and concerned for the rest of the day.

*****

It had to end.

Joel could no longer pretend everything was alright like he wasn’t dying on the inside every time you did as much as hold his hand. He felt horrible about lying, avoiding spending time together and denying you affection he knew you so loved receiving.

If he was being honest with himself, he wanted this affection, too. Undisturbed with self-doubts and guilt.

He fucking craved it.

Those last few weeks, his evenings were mostly spent away from you and the warmth of your shared home. The nights, on the other hand, when he would sneak in and quietly lay down next to you (but just a little further away), became full of intrusive thoughts and wallowing in self-loathing.

No matter what excuse he came up with, you were persistent in holding and being close to him during the night, and Joel discovered that the only way to prevent you from doing it was to come to bed after you’ve already fallen asleep.

But it was a damn torture.

The worst part was when he was coming home to the sight of you lying amongst the tangled sheets and blankets in his bed. No matter if you were drooling or a pillow has imprinted itself on your cheek, every time this sight made Joel weak in the knees. You looked like a gorgeous, priceless painting, and it pained him to disrupt your rest with his arrival.

He tried to volunteer for evening patrols, because then he’d have a real reason to come home late, but not only Maria didn’t want to pair him with anyone during those hours – she also suspended him from all patrols whatsoever. Joel was understandably furious, but the damn woman threatened to tell Tommy about it if he kept being ‘a stubborn pain in her ass’. She sent him back home, murmuring something about spending more time with you, which he tried to pretend he hadn’t heard.

Joel sighed, sitting up on the edge of the bed and hiding his face in his hand.

If Maria of all people could see that there were some problems in your and Joel’s relationship, then you had to notice, too.

Christ, he was the worst.

Joel didn’t want to push you away, of course not. He wanted to stay with you more than anything, but that desire did nothing to diminish the guilt suffocating him. For some time, he felt like the luckiest man alive, having the privilege to call you his and every day come home to you. But now with all those little things he started to notice, he felt like a fraud.

It wasn’t even about him not deserving you anymore – it was that you didn’t deserve this fucking treatment he was giving you these past few weeks.

Fuck, he had to tell you the truth. About the patrols, sneaking out, distancing himself, all of it. He couldn’t bear lying to you a day longer.

Joel stood up and pulled his sweaty t-shirt over his head. He wrinkled his nose at the smell and patted himself under his armpits and on the back, then reached for a clean one.

He’ll figure it out. He just needed some time to come up with a way to–

“Morning, handsome.”

Joel flinched and turned around quickly, not having realized you were awake, but whatever excuse he had in mind, it fell dead on his lips.

You stretched with a groan, reaching one arm high above your head and rubbing your eyes with the other hand. A sleepy smile danced on your lips when you looked back at him with sparkles in your slightly puffy eyes, and Joel didn’t have any other word to describe you than ‘ethereal’.

“What are you doing?” you asked groggily, relaxing against the pillow and looking him up and down.

“Uhmm…” he hesitated, clutching the t-shirt that was in need of washing close to his chest. His gaze was drawn to the window. “Goin’ out, actually. I’ve got some work…”

“No, you don’t,” you interrupted him and swung off the covers from his side of the bed. “Get back here.”

Joel looked at you with surprise.

“What?”

“You heard me, Miller. Get your ass back on the bed.”

He crumpled the shirt in his hands, hesitating, but his eyes softened as soon as he looked back at you and your raised eyebrows – like you were challenging him to just try and refuse you.

But how could he, when you looked so pretty lying in his bed and demanding to have him close to you? How could he ever deny you anything?

With a defeated sigh, Joel started putting the t-shirt back on, but the sound of you humming in protest stopped him. Your face was grumpy when he glanced up.

“Nah. No shirt.” You extended your hand in his direction, making a grabbing motion. “Come here.”

Joel didn’t move. “Why?”

You rolled your eyes and dramatically flopped down onto the pillows, looking up at him with an adorable pout.

“Because it’s been a long time since I got a chance to admire my handsome, sexy man,” you answered with sincerity, and then grinned. “Now come here. If you ditch your shirt, I’ll consider ditching mine.”

He still didn’t move. You were patient, but when it became clear that he wasn’t going to do anything, you sent him a small, sweet smile. “If you get cold again, I promise to do something about it, love.”

Joel physically felt his heart softening at your words and at the sight of you.

With a silent sigh – and only a split second of hesitation – he took off the t-shirt and quickly laid down on his back next to you. He felt a bile rise in his throat, though he had no idea why, and it became almost choking when you shifted closer to him, putting one hand on his chest.

“You’ve deprived me of this beautiful view for too long,” you whispered, kissing the place below his collarbone, and then going up to the base of his neck. “I missed seeing you like this.”

“There’s nothin’ to miss,” Joel muttered, not moving a single muscle. He had his hands entwined on his stomach and to look in your direction was the biggest effort anyone could demand from him now. “We sleep next to each other every night, sweetheart.”

“You know what I mean,” you breathed into his neck, leaving love bites wherever your lips strayed. “You’re going out so early these days. And you work late.”

“Patrols,” Joel grunted with gritted teeth, his muscles tense and breathing ragged as your warm palm caressed his waist. “Sorry.”

“You work too hard, love.” You sat up and swung one of your legs over his lap. Joel actually shivered when you took his hands in your own and placed them on your hips. “Let me help you relax.”

Oh, fuck.

Jesus fucking Christ, Joel was sure he was going to drop dead at any second now.

“Darlin’…” he began, but you made a noise in your throat and leaned in to kiss him deeply, pressing your body to his. Joel loved when you initiated those moments between you two, and you looked so fucking hot sitting on top of him – but for the life of him, he could not relax.

“It hits me every once in a while how lucky I am to have you,” you whispered in such a sweet, adoring voice, like you didn’t hear him. You pressed your lips against his stubble again, igniting every inch of his skin with your touch. “Let me enjoy you. I love you so much, you know that?”

“I…”

I love you, too.

Lord, he loved you so much. Why was it so hard to return your affections, then? Why did he feel like the biggest crook by letting you love him?

Joel let out a shuddering sigh he didn’t know he was holding when you pressed your lips to the edge of his jaw, before capturing his mouth in a kiss. It was sweet, but heated at the same time and, without even thinking about it, he found himself wrapping his strong arms around you, bringing you closer to his chest. You smiled against his lips and murmured something he didn’t quite catch.

A groan escaped him when you bit his lower lip lightly, your soft palm going down, from his chest, to his stomach, down…

He couldn’t do it.

Joel abruptly rose to the sitting position and grabbed your wrist, his eyes sad and painful.

“I’m sorry, baby” he said with furrowed brows, gently setting you aside and off his lap, before standing up quickly. “I’m so sorry, babygirl, I love you, I promise, but I can’t… I don’t feel good today. I’m sorry.”

“Joel…” you started, but he shook his head, putting his t-shirt back on and turning away from you not to let you see the absolute wrecked expression on his face and wetness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he kept saying, feeling like he’s about to throw up from the nerves and the burning shame. He cursed himself internally, wanting to turn around, to take your face in his hands and kiss you deeply, but he… he... “I’m so…”

All strength left him in a blink of an eye and suddenly he slumped on the bed, hiding his face in his hands. Joel desperately tried to get a grip on himself, but his chest felt so tight, and all the worry, all the guilt and fear, and self-loathing came crashing down on him all at once.

“M’sorry, darlin’,” he whispered hoarsely, his lips trembling and that damn muscle in his cheek pulsing when he felt the mattress dipping and your tentative touch on his face.

“No, no, baby, it’s alright,” you started saying quietly, trying to take his cheeks in your hands, but he didn’t let you. “Oh, Joel… Come here.”

You gently pulled him into your arms, guiding his head to rest in the crook of your neck. Joel hid his face in your skin, realizing with dread that his own shoulders were shaking.

For God’s sake, he needed to stop, he needed to put himself together and not show any weakness–

But it was you. It was your warm embrace and your loving hands brushing his hair, and your quiet whispers while you held him. It was your kindness and understanding, and stubbornness coming from love. You weren’t someone he had to hide from.

So he let you in. He let you hold him.

“Joel, please. Talk to me,” you spoke up after some time, and though your tone was soft, it somehow sounded too loud in the silence of the room. “I need to know what’s going on with you, you’re worrying me.”

“Nothin’ is goin’ on,” he answered out of habit, not even moving a muscle. “I just… fuck, sorry.”

“Stop apologizing and talk to me.” Joel pursed his lips, while you massaged his back gently. “Whatever it is, we’re gonna get through it together, okay? It’s gonna be okay, love, I promise.”

He planned on telling you. He wanted to tell you and get it off his chest, but… he wasn’t ready. Not now. Not when he broke down in front of you, for fuck’s sake.

But you deserved to know. If not to help him, then at least to make you aware of what you’ve gotten yourself into. It wasn’t fair to keep you in the dark and at arm’s length because of his absurd fears.

He wetted his lips and inhaled softly, but no words came out.

You gently lifted his head and Joel immediately squeezed his eyes shut, knowing there was no way he’d be able to say anything if he looked at you.

“You can tell me, baby,” you whispered sadly, touching the side of his face. “Anything. I promise everything will be alright.”

Joel was silent for a couple of moments, before he swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to calm down his pounding heart.

“I don’t have any extra work,” he started very quietly, so his voice wouldn’t break. “I was lyin’ to you, and I… I’m so sorry about that. I don’t get sent on any patrols now, actually…”

He shook his head and sighed heavily, faltering. He knew that wasn’t the problem, and although lying to you was one of the things he was guilty of, it wasn’t what started all of it. And you must’ve known it, too, because you kept looking at him, not saying anything.

“The thin’ is, I… God dammit,” he murmured, turning his head away from you and hiding his face in his hands, still keeping his eyes closed. “I can’t… I don’t– I have a problem with myself,” he finally blurted out, not even caring now if you understood his muffled words. “I keep…”

Fuck, man, just say it.

“I’m… I’m not as fit as I used to be,” he murmured, not moving an inch in fear that you’ll spot the wetness on his eyelashes. “I don’t want to do you harm, darlin’, keepin’ you from… Jesus, I don’t know. From livin’ your life, happily and to the fullest.”

“Joel…” You whispered with pain in your voice. “Is this what it is about?”

Joel shook his head, letting out a shuddering breath, still as quietly as he could.

“I’m old,” he said with tiredness he didn’t know he had in himself. “And you… You’re so pretty and young, I…” He lowered his forehead onto his hand, rubbing his temple. “I would like nothin’ more than to spend the rest of my life with you, darlin’. But I’m afraid I’m not… not good for you. You could do so much better–”

“Hey. Hey, none of that.” You forced his hands away from his face by cradling it in your own palms. “There’s no one else I’d rather share my days with.”

Joel just shut his eyes tighter, trying to contain the tears that started to gather in them.

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered. “But in a couple of years I’ll be… God, I’ll be fuckin’ sixty, and you–”

“Do you really think I care about that?” you asked softly, brushing your thumbs under his eyes, but he shook his head, like you didn’t understand. “Joel, I love you more than anything in this world. And I know you love me.” He heard the faintest smile in your voice, and it made him feel so, so terrible with himself – that you were trying to make him feel better when you shouldn’t have, he shouldn’t have been another one of your worries… “So where’s the problem? I want to be with you. Only you.”

Joel pressed his lips together and before he could stop himself, he draped his arms over his lap, like he was trying to hide the evidence of his insecurities from you, even though his torso was already covered by the t-shirt.

“You’re young and beautiful,” he repeated, still unable to find strength in himself to look you in the eye. “And I’m anythin’ but. I just don’t wanna…”

Joel didn’t know what else to say.

He didn’t want you to leave. He didn’t want to spend another night apart from you. He didn’t want to push you away.

“Just don’t want you to be unhappy,” he finally murmured.

You let out something between a short chuckle and a stifled sob, and your fingers found Joel’s, still wrapped around his stomach.

“Do I look unhappy to you?” you asked, almost in disbelief. Joel finally willed himself to glance at you, if only to see for himself – which turned out to be a mistake. Your eyes were sad and teary, but not full of hurt or distaste like he feared, and you still had this faint smile on your face. He quickly turned his head away and you must’ve realized how you looked because your hold on his fingers tightened slightly. “Not right now. In general, did I ever do something to make you think I’m not happy with you?”

“No,” he answered quietly, not even having to think about it. “But it doesn’t…”

“I told you before, how can I even look at anyone else when I have you?” you spoke up when he faltered. “You’re beautiful to me, Joel, even if you don’t believe me right now. You’re amazing and kind, you’re fucking hot, and yeah, maybe you’re stubborn at times, but I love you so much, and every day I find another reason to fall for you all over again.”

Joel met your eyes again, looking for any hesitation or deceit – but he didn’t find any. As always, you were sincere in everything you said.

He realized, with another wave of tears threatening to roll down his cheeks, how much he missed your affection that he alone deprived himself from. How much he longed for this intimacy that once came so easily to him.

“M’sorry,” he muttered at last, lifting his hand to your face and trying to ignore those damn tears spilling from behind his eyelids. “Never doubted you, babygirl, but I just didn’t know how… how to tell you.”

“It’s okay, Joel,” you nuzzled your cheek into his palm, planting a kiss on the inside of his hand. “It’s alright, c’mon here.”

Not letting go of his hand, you tugged him gently and leaned back on the pillows. With great effort he refrained from fighting you, and instead let you pull him down, laying his head on your chest.

And in an instant, everything was alright again. The moment Joel heard your heartbeat under his ear and felt your gentle hands on the nape of his neck and his back… it was like coming home. This feeling of warmth spreading across his limbs made him feel safe for the first time in weeks.

It was so long since he fully let you hold him.

Maybe that’s what he’s been missing.

“I adore you, Joel Miller,” you whispered into the top of his head, holding him close to your heart. “All of you, and just the way you are.”

Joel couldn’t help it – a small smile crept onto his lips.

“Called it,” he murmured. “You’re gettin’ sappy.”

You snorted and kissed his hairline. “I think you need it, handsome.”

“Maybe I do,” he conceded, not moving his head from your chest, and sighed tiredly. “Dammit, missed holdin’ you like this, babygirl. M’so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you countered, but he continued.

“I just didn’t know how to talk about it… How to tell you that I feel bad. About… the way I look.”

Joel felt your hands on his cheeks, and although he really didn’t want to move from the position he was in, he let you lift his head.

“I love the way you look,” you said quietly, in a tone that made Joel’s old heart flutter. “And our bodies change, there’s nothing wrong with that. If anything, I’m really happy that both of us can enjoy this kind of life.” You leaned in and nudged Joel’s nose with yours, closing your eyes. “Every change of our bodies is a sign that we’re finally safe after all we’ve been through. 

“But you look gorgeous as ever, sweet girl.”

“M’glad to hear it, Mr Miller,” you teased, but then your smile turned wistful. “But you know, I was insecure about my looks, too, not sure if you noticed. My stomach and thighs, and,” you rolled your eyes, “well, my butt.”

Normally Joel would throw a playful remark, or try to make you giggle, but this time he stayed silent. He just listened to your soft voice, drinking in your features.

“It worried me for some time. But you still put your hand on my leg when I was sitting with you, and you never shied away from telling and showing me,” you stressed this word, a teasing note in your tone, “how much you like my body.”

“‘Course I do,” he murmured quietly, lifting himself on his elbows and leaning over you despite your huffs and efforts to keep him in place.

“So I thought that maybe you didn’t care about this extra weight, or even didn’t–”

The rest of your words were swallowed by Joel’s lips when he kissed you deeply and hungrily. So many strong emotions were swirling inside his chest, he didn’t know anymore what to do with himself. At first you tried to continue your train of thought, but soon gave up, erupting into giggles when Joel latched his lips onto your neck and wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to bring you in even closer.

“I didn’t care,” he was whispering into your skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. “I don’t.”

“Then you see– Joel, stop it!” You squealed when he carried on with his assault, not giving you a second to gather your thoughts.

“M’so lucky to have you,” he whispered while peppering your face in soft kisses. “Thank you, babygirl.”

You finally managed to free your arms, and you cupped his face in your hands with a huge grin that Joel decided he wanted to see every day. Another adorable giggle escaped you when he snuggled his scratchy cheek into your palm.

“I know it will take time,” you said gently, but firmly, looking deep into his eyes. “But no matter how long it’ll take, I will make you understand how incredibly attracted I am to you.” Joel hung his head low to hide a bashful snigger, and your smile grew. “Understand?”

“Yeah, yeah. Understood, ma’am.”

“Good.” You pulled him closer to plant a slow kiss on his lips, and asked seductively: “I can start right now, if you’d want to. I don’t want my handsome man to feel insecure about any part of him.”

God, he loved you so much.

Joel hid his face in the crook of your neck again, his heart squeezing with adoration and disbelief at how it came that he’d been blessed with someone like you.

“Y’know what, sweetheart? I think it’d do me good.”

[dazzlingjaeyun]

𝐢𝐜𝐞-𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 – 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧

figure skater!sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: brother's rival, mostly angst & some fluff

warnings: poor figure skating references cause i have no clue lol, slow burn (sort of), insecurities, mentions of injuries, skinship, curse words

word count: 13k

author's note: the names of the other characters in the story do not refer to any idols or irl people, i just needed names lol

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‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

there was something about park sunghoon that had you keeping your eyes on him throughout the entirety of his practice. maybe it was the fact that he was insanely good at what he was doing, or because he was insanely good-looking.

in fact, you'd been admiring him for quite some time – which you would never, ever, admit. cause what the hell would you tell your brother?

you remembered his reaction when you had told him you had a crush on his best friend – a silly prank you were forced to pull on him during a round of truth or dare at a party. you preferred to not find out how he'd react if you told him the same about the guy he called his rival. especially if it was not a prank this time.

to be fair, you found their entire 'rivalry' a bit childish, knowing that it was solely based on sunghoon always snatching the gold medal from your brother by scoring just a few points more.

however, paying close attention to the way he slid over the ice with such smoothness, making even the most difficult moves look effortless, you understood why he always left your brother in the second place.

"ready to lose on saturday?" his mocking voice echoed through the big hall, reminding you of the reason you were here in the first place. the first competition after your long break of figure skating. the thought of it made you equally excited and nervous. you'd had a long time to practice, but could you really go back to how good you used to be after all that had happened?

although thoughts and doubts started clouding your mind, his question made you wonder; why would he care if you lost, you weren't competing against him, after all.

"i know me and my brother look alike, but we're not that similar," you tried to sound tough, but only realized how awkward the words came out after they already had.

you mentally cursed yourself when you saw the right corner of his lip curl up into a smile that mirrored the sneering tone of his question before. he came to a halt in front of you, only the railing, on which he rested his arms, separating you. he leaned forward just a little. "right, you're better," he replied with an undefinable expression and a short chuckle, which made you question if his words were meant to be sarcastic or genuine.

although you usually admired him for the confidence he radiated, now, you may as well say you hated it – hated how small it made you feel, especially when he was so close and towered over you by a good couple of centimeters.

his dark orbs found yours, keeping steady eye contact for a painfully long moment. you didn't want to give in, not willing to give him the satisfaction of backing down, although on the inside, everything screamed at you to look away. the corners of sunghoon's eyes crinkled slightly as his lips, once again, curled up into that mischievous smile.

he was aware of the discomfort that was building up behind your seemingly strong demeanor, you were sure of that. and he found it amusing. no wonder your brother couldn't stand him.

sunghoon pushed himself up from the railing, straightening his posture. "is your partner gonna come, or..." he asked, after looking around the hall.

"yeah, he said he'll be late by five minutes," you replied, hoping that the announcement of jisung's arrival would make sunghoon pack his bags and leave the ice rink for the rest of the day. but when he didn't seem to move, you quickly added "coach reserved the rink for us so–"

"do you still skate with him, by the way?" sunghoon interrupted, not seeming to care about leaving.

knowing exactly what he was aiming at, you narrowed your eyes a bit, crossing your arms in front of your chest. "yes," you replied shortly and sternly, hoping he'd take the hint and not dig deeper.

sunghoon, however, raised an eyebrow and looked at you with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. "seriously? after all that happened?"

you should have known he wouldn't drop the topic, yet it made your stomach slowly burn with anger. why did he have to talk about it now? so shortly before the competition, and after you had put so much hard work into regaining not only your abilities, but most importantly the trust you had always blindly put in jisung.

"it's none of your business, park," you snapped.

"he's the reason you almost lost your dream, y/n," sunghoon replied dryly, clearly not affected by the sudden change in your demeanor, "it's almost a miracle you're here now."

as if on autopilot, your brain replayed the day you had tried so hard to shove to the back of your mind – to forget. the day you were so close to chasing your dreams, so close to winning the most important competition up to that point in your life. the day not only the win slipped away, but your entire career was too close to do the same. you knew sunghoon was right, it was a miracle you were here. that you were even standing.

"you know," sunghoon's voice snapped you back to reality, "i would have never dropped you," he said – loud enough for jisung, who had just come in, to hear too. sunghoon finally left the ice, changing to his sneakers and shooting the other boy a glance with an emotion you couldn't quite make out, before he walked off.

your eyes followed him until he was out of sight – your mind still tangled in the thoughts of your body crashing down on the ice heavily, leaving you with a broken leg and several fractures along your spine.

"hey, are you okay?" jisung asked once he was close enough to you. he knew exactly what was wrong, his guilt still fresh despite the months that had passed since the day he hadn't paid enough attention – the day that he had accidentally let go of you, responsible for your heavy injuries that suspended you from ice skating for several months.

when you didn't react, he tried again, "i–... i practiced a lot, i improved! you know that, we've been practicing together the past weeks, we've been fine, you–... you'll be fine. i won't let anything happen to you another time!" he blurted out. his effort in trying to reassure you, however, stayed unsuccessful.

you wordlessly changed from your sneakers to your ice skates, your mind still captured by sunghoon's words.

throughout the entire practice, you couldn't shake the thoughts off. it made you lose focus, made your movements sloppy – too slow, too fast, too incorrect. you felt the pressure inside of you building up more and more with each piece of guidance your coach gave, her voice growing more frustrated with each word.

it was just practice, there was nothing that could happen now, you tried to remind yourself.

but when jisung's arms wrapped around your waist to help with the lift, and your legs left the ground, your heart pounded violently in your chest. blood rushed in your ears as your body tensed up completely – every muscle inside of you froze, and jisung noticed immediately, forcing himself to stop.

he tightened his grip around your waist and carefully lowered you back onto the ice before you could drop. your legs wobbled slightly as they touched down again, and you tried to regain control. you closed your eyes, inhaling deeply, desperate to calm the storm inside of you and keep the tears from welling up. you couldn't afford to break down now.

your breath hitched when you felt his hand on your shoulder. you hadn't realized jisung had let go of your waist, or how he was now standing in front of you, concern written all over his face.

"are you okay?" he asked softly, but before you could answer, the coach's voice cut through the air.

"take a break, guys!" she called out, clearly frustrated, her eyes lingering on you. you could feel her gaze heavy with expectation and disappointment, and the pressure inside of you only grew bigger.

you exhaled sharply, slid across the ice until you reached the exit, and sat down on a bench. you knew you had to get yourself together, you knew you had only another week. and while a gold medal was for sure out of reach at your first competition after your long hiatus, you didn't want to make a fool of yourself either.

jisung stayed on the ice, his face slowly dropping as he saw you sitting on the bench, looking so vulnerable, so fragile. he sighed softly, before slowly approaching you.

"can i sit?", he asked and sat down once he saw you nodding. "y/n, i know we had... we had our problems," he fiddled with his hands, "and if you cannot find trust in me again, i can totally understand that... we can still cancel the competition," he said, his voice soft and careful, as if he was making sure to not jump to conclusions too quickly.

for the first time since you had sat down, you raised your head to look at him. "it's just..." you looked down again, feeling almost too embarrassing to face him, "it's all going so fast, jisung. and i'm still so insecure," the volume of your voice decreased with each word.

you felt his warm hand on yours, his thumb stroking against your skin a few times, before he gave your hand a gentle, yet reassuring squeeze. "we have almost a week," he said calmly, "we still have time to practice and we'll find our rhythm again, okay?"

when you looked up at him again, you saw a soft smile on his lips. you nodded slowly, stood up, and headed back to the ice.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

throughout the week, you found yourself at the ice rink more often than not, spending hours and hours practicing with jisung – until both of you were so exhausted that you physically couldn't do more. with each time, the two of you grew more confident.

"okay, you're good for today," you hear your coach announcing after going through the choreography uncountable times. you exhaled, relieved that you could finally finish practice for that day. as you were catching your breath, you looked at your coach with anticipation, waiting for her feedback.

"you're both improving," she began. a small weight lifted from your shoulders. she didn’t sound particularly impressed, but after years of practice under her guidance, you were familiar with her indifferent tone. praise from her was rare; she often said she didn't want to let it get to your head. "however," she looked at you, "you're still not confident, y/n. and it shows a lot. you have to trust jisung if you don't want to fail on saturday."

you just nodded, not able to object. she was right after all. you would have loved to say you trusted him fully again - but whenever he had to hold you, you'd tense, your breath getting stuck in your throat.

"jisung, you're free to go. y/n, you stay. change your shoes and wait on the side," she announced. you could feel jisung next to you shooting you a quick look before he looked back at the coach, and the two of you nodded in synch.

you took a moment to sit and reflect on the feedback, replaying it in your mind. when you finally decided to change your shoes, jisung approached you, already changed and with his bag slung over his shoulder.

"are you okay?" he asked, his voice low. it was like you could hear the apologetic look he had in his eyes, even without meeting his gaze. you nodded again. "i'm sorry," you mumbled, "i'll get myself together before the weekend."

jisung flashed a sad smile, taking your hands in his and pulling you up from the bench until you were standing in front of him, only to pull you into a short but tight hug. you reciprocated his action, softly clinging onto his shirt even when he wanted to let go. "stay," you whispered against his chest.

hugging him felt natural. the two of you had been close before your injury, you had always gotten along – it was sort of a must since you were spending all your afternoons together. his embrace was comforting, especially with all the pressure weighing on you.

when you finally pulled away, you almost overlooked the faint pink tint on jisung's cheeks. he glanced down at you and cleared his throat. "do you need a ride? i can wait for you outside," he offered, but you shook your head. "who knows how long she's going to keep me here," you replied, keeping your voice low enough so your coach couldn't hear. jisung chuckled slightly and nodded. "fine, but don't go alone if it's getting late. you can call me."

"i'll ask hyuk, don't worry," you smiled, before waving to him to signal him that it was okay to leave. he turned around and left, not without turning back and giving you another quick, reassuring smile, as if he wanted to tell you to not worry for what was still to come this evening.

"haeun and sunghoon are coming to practice," your coach stated as she approached you, "they're very good. i want you to watch them. understand their chemistry and the trust they have in each other," she requested, and you responded with an eager nod. "i want you to put that into your next practice with jisung."

as if on cue, you heard two voices coming closer. you couldn't quite understand what haeun and sunghoon were talking about, but from their faces you understood that their conversation must have been carefree. they were exchanging smiles and laughter, and you started wondering if you had ever seen sunghoon genuinely smile before.

"are you going to leave or…" sunghoon's voice interrupted your thoughts. you furrowed your brows. "couldn't have phrased it nicer," you mumbled more to yourself than to him.

before sunghoon could reply, your coach chimed in, "i told y/n to watch your practice to learn from you. take it as a compliment and don't disappoint her, i spoke highly of you."

"but..." haeun crossed her arms in front of her chest, "isn't she going to be at advantage on saturday? i mean, she'll know our moves and everything."

now, what sunghoon had said a few days ago suddenly made perfect sense. he had asked you if you were ready to lose because you were, in fact, competing against him. a flutter of unease settled in your stomach. both haeun and sunghoon were extremely good, they were usually at the top in their solo performances, so them competing together in pair skating made perfect sense. but that also meant you'd face a greater challenge; competing against them meant your insecurities and mistakes would stand out even more against their flawless performance.

"don't worry," sunghoon replied to haeun, but his gaze was fixed on you. "her injury set her back months – physically and mentally. she can't compare to us."

you bit your inner cheek to not snap a harsh comment back at him.

the sharp sound of blades cutting into the ice filled the air as they started their routine. as you watched them practice, it became increasingly clear that sunghoon was right. you understood not only their chemistry and trust, you mostly understood how far behind you were – that you'd stand no chance against them.

their practice went on for what felt like forever, and the more time passed, the more your mood dropped. for an outsider, it would have been pure bliss to watch them, but for you it felt like torture – like you were forced to watch them, not for inspiration as to what you could be, but as an reminder of everything you were not.

you had to admit you were jealous. you wished you were able to put the same trust in jisung that haeun seemed to have in sunghoon, and if you were honest, you didn't know what was holding you back. your accident had been so long ago and you could tell that jisung was way more stable now. ever since you'd started again, he hadn't given you a single reason to be worried. and yet, you couldn't trust him, even though you wanted to so bad.

your disappointment began to intertwine with a rising sense of guilt as you recalled the way jisung’s expression would shift whenever he sensed your worries. and the way he'd still apologize, even after so many months, seemingly never really getting over the fact that you'd almost had to end your career, just because his attention had slipped for a second.

"you going home or are you gonna stay here all night?" sunghoon's voice startled you.

you looked around, trying to collect your thoughts, and realizing only then that the hall had emptied except for the two of you, and your impatient-looking coach waiting to lock the doors.

"yes, i..." you started and pulled out your phone to check the time, "i'll call hyuk."

sunghoon shrugged, before making his way towards the exit. you scrolled through your call history until you found your brother's contact, quickly clicking on it as you rushed toward the door behind sunghoon, offering a brief goodbye to your coach.

the cold night air hit you with an unexpected force, and although you were wearing your jacket, your body started to shiver slightly. you wrapped your free arm around yourself, while keeping your phone close to your ear with the other, waiting for the beep-sounds to get replaced by your brother's voice.

sunghoon walked to his car, threw his bag on the backseat and sat down behind the steering wheel, starting the engine but not driving off. he looked at you, furrowing his eyebrows when you continuously lowered your phone and tapped around, only to bring it up to your ear again. he sighed, before hesitantly rolling down the window.

"you need a ride?" he asked, just loud enough for you to hear.

you immediately shook your head, to which the lines between sunghoon's eyebrows only deepened more. "your brother doesn't seem to pick up," he stated the obvious.

"no shit, sherlock," you mumbled, rolling your eyes, "i'll call jisung, you can go home."

"and wait in the cold until he's here? you're shaking," he objected, and when he realized the words sounded more worried than he had intended, he quickly added, "might as well make use of it now that i already decided to be kind for once."

you sighed, weighing the options that you had and frowned on the inside when you had to admit he was right. if it hadn't been cold and you hadn't been freezing so much, there was no way you'd set foot in his car. but you started to feel like the cold air went under your skin and you really didn't want to wait for jisung, let alone burden him by calling, so you wordlessly walked over to sunghoon's car and opened the passenger door.

he gave you a short nod, as if to confirm that you could sit down. once you were sat and had the seatbelt fastened, sunghoon fiddled around with some buttons, before pulling out of the parking lot. for the first time in hours, your muscles started to release all the tension you had been holding, when you slowly felt your seat getting warmer.

"better?" sunghoon asked, shooting you a quick glace, before focusing on the street again. you nodded and responded with a quiet "better" that almost came out as a whisper, "thanks, sunghoon."

"no need. just tell me how to get to your place," he replied dryly.

the both of you stayed silent throughout the entirety of the ride, except for the directions you gave him. it felt uncomfortable – like the awkward tension would suffocate you any second. while you were keeping your head slightly turned to look outside the window, sunghoon's eyes flashed back and forth between you and the road from time to time.

"you can just drop me off here," you announced once he took the turn into your street. he clicked his tongue "i already came all the way here, i won't die driving to the end of the street as well. besides..." he looked around, "your neighbourhood looks creepy, not gonna lie."

"whatever you say," you mumbled in response, not wanting to argue, but too proud to agree with him either.

you thanked him again once he pulled up in front of your house, double and triple checked that you didn't forget anything in his car and quickly rushed to your front door, hearing him drive off not before you had unlocked the door.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

as saturday rolled around, you found yourself warming up, feeling even more tense and nervous than you had originally thought. although the last days before the competition had gone really well, you couldn't shake the thought off your mind that you might mess everything up.

jisung was standing next to you, putting one hand on your shoulder and squeezing gently. "we got this, okay? don't worry, y/n, i got you," he tried to calm you down, shoving his own nervousness to the back of his mind.

without even realizing, you softly leaned into him, finding comfort in his touch, finding stability, something to hold onto in his mere presence. that's when you thought you could do it, thought you might be able to overcome your fears and shove aside the thoughts that kept creeping up on you.

but when it was time to perform that one jump, only some minutes later, you realized you had been wrong - once again. you froze, your widened eyes searching for jisung, who nodded in approval, trying to reassure you. if this was practice, you'd stop right there and then, but this wasn't practice and you couldn't afford to just quit and run away. in the end, it was the pressure that drove you when you aimed for the jump, way too hesitantly, way too half-heartedly. you could feel jisung trying his best to compensate your lack of power, but he alone couldn't turn the tide. and so you ended your performance – without injuries, but with a huge gap between what you could have done, and what you had delivered in the end.

"it's fine," you heard him whisper while you were still in your ending pose, waiting for the judges to announce the end.

you slid wordlessly across the ice towards the exit, stepped out, and headed to the changing room. once inside, you sat down and stared at the floor, time seeming to stretch on endlessly. with a heavy sigh, you bent down, removed your ice skates, and replaced them with your shoes. pulling your hoodie over your uniform, you stayed seated, unable to stand – unprepared to face the world outside, unwilling to hear the inevitable comments.

your vision began to blur, and though you would have usually blinked the tears away, this time, you let them fall freely. you couldn’t keep bottling up your emotions. silent tears ran down your face, interrupted only by the occasional soft sob.

"y/n?" your brother’s voice startled you from the other side of the door. he knocked gently, pushing it open slightly when you didn’t respond. seeing you, he sighed and opened his arms, silently offering a hug.

without a word, you walked into his embrace, feeling his arms tighten around you as he gently stroked your back. "it’s okay, you did well," he whispered, trying to comfort you, but you only managed a muffled scoff against his chest.

"i completely messed up at the end, hyuk," you muttered, pulling away to face him. "i really thought i could do it this time, but... i want to trust jisung, i really do, but i just can't," you admitted, your voice breaking with each sob.

hyuk gently patted your head. "i know, i know… you did well up until that point. it’s okay to be scared. maybe you just need more time. don’t be so hard on yourself," he said softly.

"come on, let’s head back out. i can’t wait to see sunghoon get beaten by the other team. i’m sure they scored higher than him and haeun," he teased, making you smile despite the state you were in. you nodded in agreement, feeling just a little lighter.

as you watched them indeed take second place, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly at your brother’s expression. “now it’s your turn to finally beat him. if someone else can do it, so can you,” you teased, drawing a smile from him. normally, he would’ve made a jab about you not beating him either, but today he kept those thoughts to himself, simply glad to finally see you smile.

you watched as your coach approached haeun and sunghoon, congratulating them, before gesturing for sunghoon to join her on the side for another conversation. you could see his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, the smile that had been plastered on his face for getting yet another medal dropping quickly. had she complained they only made it to the second place? you hadn’t seen their performance, but you couldn’t picture sunghoon making a mistake so grave that it would cost them the win.

when his gaze met yours, a chill ran through you, and you were certain you’d be a goner if looks could kill. you quickly averted your gaze, determined to focus on anything but him, yet you could still feel his eyes practically piercing holes through your body.

“y/n,” you heard your coach call as she approached you. you turned to face her, peeking over her shoulder to see sunghoon talking to haeun, who was now standing next to him, but still glaring at you.

“after today, i think you need to start rebuilding your trust, not just in your partner, but in yourself, or you'll end up locking up every movement at some point,” she began. you nodded, fully aware that it was easier said than done.

“so, for the next few months, you'll focus solely on that. no new figures, no competitions at all. and you’ll switch partners. sunghoon will train with you until you feel comfortable again,” she announced, her voice firm and leaving no room for discussion.

your jaw dropped. out of all the people, she chose to pair you with sunghoon? your brother next to you mirrored your reaction, beginning to protest, but you tuned him out as the world around you fell silent, moving in slow motion as your gaze shifted to sunghoon again. the intensity of his glare and the clenching of his jaw spoke volumes; he wasn't thrilled about the decision either.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

when you arrived at practice the following week, you walked into the large hall with slumped shoulders. your frown deepened as you realized jisung was in fact not there. you had called him the night of the competition to share the news, even though your coach had already informed him. after all, this meant he would also be getting a new partner. you had apologized to him and the two of you had agreed to stay in touch, to not drift further apart as you'd get paired up together again after you'd overcome your struggles.

you approached your coach, who was already waiting. "y/n," she greeted you with a brief but warm smile. "if you'd like, we can go over some feedback from saturday until sunghoon arrives," she offered, and you nodded, though you knew it wasn't really a question – she probably would have done it anyway.

as she began giving feedback on your performance, you heard footsteps approaching. assuming it was sunghoon, you felt your muscles tense slightly, not quite ready to face him as your new partner.

“sunghoon,” your coach paused her feedback and turned to him. “both of you, warm up so we can begin,” she said, receiving a nod from both of you.

you started your usual routine of warm-up exercises and stretching, trying your best to ignore sunghoon and the displeased expression on his face that he didn't even bother trying to hide.

"are you ready to start?" he asked, and when you nodded, he replied dryly "good, cause i want to get this over with."

you sighed to yourself. "listen, i know you're not happy about practicing with me now. i don't want this either. but at least i'm not being a bitch about it. just cause you cannot stand my brother."

"this is not about your brother, y/n. i have to do double the work now, training with haeun and you, just cause you cannot get your shit together," he stated, his tone harsh.

you furrowed your eyebrows. his words were hurtful, but his ego was even more frustrating. "if i remember correctly, you were the one saying that jisung shouldn't be my partner anymore and that you'd never drop me," you reminded him of what he had said a couple of weeks ago.

"so? doesn't mean i want to be your partner," he responded.

"but you are for now," your coach chimed in, "so stop the bickering, both of you. you're not kids anymore. sunghoon, keep your energy for your solo practice and the one with haeun," she added firmly.

after your coach mentioned that you would go through the choreography you had prepared with jisung, both of you began without a word. admittedly, it was impressive to see how quickly sunghoon adapted to each move whenever your coach gave instructions. you knew the routine by heart, but he didn’t – and yet, he effortlessly picked up every one of your coach’s cues and executed them flawlessly.

when it was time for the first lift, a wave of uncertainty washed over you as he placed his hands on your waist. you hesitated for a moment, doubt creeping in, but his grip was firm, offering a sense of reassurance despite your uncertainty. "it will be fine," he whispered quickly, sensing your hesitation. however, as he lifted you up, your body tensed tightly, causing him to lower you back down gently.

your heart raced as you caught your breath, embarrassment flooding in. sunghoon looked at you with an unexpected sense of encouragement, a sharp contrast to his earlier coldness. "let’s try again," he said with an almost reassuring smile. this time, as he lifted you, his steady hold began to ease your nerves. he moved with precision, making sure you were balanced and secure. with each moment in the air, you felt his unwavering focus, which calmed any lingering doubts. while you still felt a hint of uncertainty, the exhilaration mixed with a sense of safety as he brought you back down gently.

feeling like you finally made a bit of progress for the first time in months, you couldn't stop a wide smile from spreading across your lips. sunghoon reciprocated your smile for a moment before returning to his nonchalant demeanor.

after a positive remark from your coach and her request to repeat the choreography, you practiced the moves over and over again. it felt as if the confidence that sunghoon radiated was enough to rub off on you as well.

after sunghoon successfully lifted you for the last move one more time, your coach called an end to your practice, and he lowered you back onto the ice. for a moment, you looked up at him with a soft smile before he slid back slightly to create a bit more space between you.

he cleared his throat. "you're already getting better," he remarked. you nodded slightly. "yes, but those were the easy ones... there's still a long way to go," you replied. he shrugged, "well, at least now you know you're not the problem, but he was."

you bit your lower lip, a sense of guilt washing over you, even though you knew his statement wasn’t entirely true. "you're very sure of yourself," you said, trying to make it sound like a joke.

"yeah, because it's the truth. in two hours, you’ve made more progress with me than with him in a week," he responded, his voice casual.

you lowered your gaze, looking at the floor as you quietly admitted, "i don't know why, but you made me feel safe today."

an odd feeling jolted through sunghoon at your words. why did you sound so vulnerable, especially in front of him? why did he suddenly feel the urge to comfort you, wanting to ensure you'd always feel safe? and, god, why was it so damn warm all of a sudden?

he cleared his throat. "just wanna get rid of you quickly," he attempted to sound nonchalant, but a soft smile slipped through.

his remark drew a chuckle from you, prompting you to look up again. it felt like his smile doubled his handsomeness, his sharp features softening, his eyes crinkling just a little at the corners.

just as you were about to say, "i'll see you tomorrow," the familiar sound of skates gliding across the ice interrupted you. haeun entered with a slight smile, ready for her practice with sunghoon. a pang of guilt hit you, knowing sunghoon still had at least four more hours of practice ahead. you gave him a short smile before you quickly turned around and made your way out, fighting the urge to turn back and sneak another glance at him.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

the next days passed in a blur. after classes, you'd go straight to the ice rink, and most of the times, sunghoon would already be there.

you weren’t sure when it happened, but the usual glare he used to give you had softened into a short, yet sincere smile, and it made your heart warm. it was comforting to know he didn’t hate you after all – or at least, he didn’t act like it.

sunghoon was gentle yet firm, encouraging you to push yourself a little more each practice without making you feel too uncomfortable. he'd hold you tight enough to make you feel secure, always letting you down gently when he sensed you were too tense, and asked your coach for breaks when you needed them.

sometimes, when you'd glance around the rink, you'd catch jisung watching from the sidelines, pretending to adjust his skates or talk to your coach, but his gaze stayed fixed on you and sunghoon.

sunghoon noticed too. you could tell by the slight tightening of his grip on your waist, the subtle shift in his stance whenever jisung was around. it irritated him in a way he didn’t quite understand. maybe it was the way jisung looked at you – like he still had some sort of claim on you. sunghoon didn’t say anything about it, but he found himself skating with more purpose when jisung was there, his movements more controlled, his touches just a little more protective. he wasn’t sure why, but every time he saw jisung, something inside him tensed, like he needed to make it clear that he was your partner now.

skating with sunghoon as your partner quickly became routine, faster than you'd expected. though every practice left you utterly exhausted, there was always a pang of sadness when your coach ended the session and sent you home. you told yourself it was just guilt, knowing that sunghoon would still be there practicing with haeun or by himself long after you had already left.

you could tell the two of you had been growing more comfortable around each other, but today’s practice felt different.

sunghoon stood a few feet away, adjusting his skates, his eyes catching yours for a brief second before flicking away. you felt a nervous flutter in your chest, an unfamiliar sensation that made you hesitate for a moment before stepping onto the ice. normally, you’d just go through the motions of practice – his hand guiding yours, his steady voice offering small corrections – but today, every little touch felt different. his hand felt warmer when it grazed yours, lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“ready?” he asked, his voice lower than usual, as he held his hand out to you. there was nothing strange in the gesture, yet the simple act of slipping your hand into his felt different – like you were aware of every point where your skin met his. it wasn’t uncomfortable, but it made your pulse quicken for reasons you didn’t quite want to think about.

you had always thought sunghoon was attractive – that much had been obvious from the start. maybe, you even used to have a bit of a crush on him, but it was the kind of crush based purely on his looks. there was no way you'd ever actually like him. his personality wasn’t for you – he mocked you too much, was too serious, too distant, and he never got along with your brother, which only made things more complicated. whatever interest you had in him had always stayed shallow.

you nodded, focusing on your breathing. your fingers curled around his hand, and for a split second, you could’ve sworn his grip tightened just a little. nothing about it felt out of place, but it lingered, the warmth of his touch seeming to seep into your skin.

sunghoon, on the other hand, felt a slight shift too, though he wasn’t sure what to make of it. guiding you through practice had become second nature, and yet today, every move seemed to require a bit more concentration than usual. there was something about the way your hand fit in his that unsettled him, but he brushed it off.

he convinced himself it was just his body recognizing that the two of you were beginning to understand each other better – that you were becoming a stronger team. yet, deep down, he knew he had never felt this way with haeun throughout all the years he'd practiced with her. he tried to remain his focus on the routine, but every so often, his gaze flickered to you, lingering a second too long before he forced himself to look away.

when it came time for a lift, you braced yourself, ready for the momentary closeness that was part of the routine. but as his arms wrapped around your waist to lift you, his grip felt different – stronger, more careful, like he was holding you not just for the sake of the move but as if he was afraid of letting you go. your breath caught as you steadied yourself, the air around you feeling heavier, more tense. sunghoon's arms lingered around you for just a second longer than necessary, before he let you go and forced his focus back on the routine.

"you okay?" he asked softly.

you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and quickly looked away. you weren’t sure what was happening, but it was getting harder to ignore the way your skin buzzed in the places his hands had been.

when your coach called out a short break to catch your breaths, you took the opportunity to step back, feeling like you needed space to clear your head. but when sunghoon reached for you again, his fingers brushing lightly against your wrist, it sent a soft shiver down your spine.

“let’s try again,” he suggested, his voice steady but quieter than usual. you just nodded slightly and continued the practice, trying your best to focus on the routine and shove aside the strange feeling bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

at one point, he stumbled slightly while guiding you through a spin, and you found yourself pressed against his chest. his arms wrapped around you instinctively, holding you steady to prevent a fall. for a split second, the familiar panic rose within you. your heart raced as you looked up at him, your faces unnervingly close. the air suddenly felt thick. for a moment, neither of you moved, caught not only in what had happened, but in the unexpected closeness. he noticed the way your eyes had widened slightly, and a pang of guilt tightened in his chest.

“sorry,” he mumbled, the word barely escaping his lips. he didn’t pull away immediately; instead, his thumb brushed softly against your side, as if he hoped to offer some comfort.

your breath hitched at the unexpected contact, and you fought to suppress the whirlwind of feelings. you forced a smile, pretending everything was normal, even though it felt anything but.

“it’s fine,” you whispered, stepping back reluctantly, the warmth of his touch still lingering on your skin like a ghost. yet the weight of your fears hung in the air between you, unspoken but palpable, while he cursed himself internally for letting his concentration slip.

as the practice wore on, the tension didn’t go away. there were moments when he held you just a little closer than necessary, or when his breath hitched slightly as you twirled too close to him. the routine was the same, but everything else felt different – slower, more deliberate, like you were both aware of something simmering just beneath the surface, but neither of you wanted to face it.

when practice finally ended, you found yourself reluctant to let go. his hand lingered on you from the final pose of the choreography, and even though your coach had dismissed you, neither of you moved. it was as if the end of practice marked the return to reality, and neither of you wanted to step out of the small, intimate bubble you had somehow created.

“see you tomorrow?” he asked, his voice soft and almost hesitant.

you nodded, offering a small smile. “yeah… tomorrow.”

as you left the rink, you could still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin.

sunghoon watched as you disappeared from the rink, the warmth of your presence still clinging to the edges of his thoughts. after a short break, he moved onto practice with haeun, his body slipping into the familiar rhythm of their routine, their movements synchronized from years of skating together. yet, despite the familiar movements and haeun’s sharp focus, his mind kept drifting back to the moments before – the way your hand had felt in his, the quiet weight of your gaze when you had both hesitated to let go.

he shook his head, trying to push the thoughts away, but they clung stubbornly. he had never been this distracted before. not with haeun, where everything usually felt automatic, predictable. but now, the way your warmth had stayed with him seemed to disrupt his focus, like a thread pulling his attention in a direction he didn’t quite understand.

he stumbled slightly, just enough for haeun to notice. “everything okay?” she asked, her tone more curious than concerned.

“yeah,” he muttered, forcing a tight smile. “just tired.”

but as they continued through the rest of the routine, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something had somehow shifted. god, he couldn't wait to go home, take a long, hot shower, and shake off the happenings of the day.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

throughout the following practices, the tension between you and sunghoon only seemed to deepen. soft touches lingered a little longer each time, and there were stolen glances exchanged whenever you could risk them. most of the time, you’d both quickly look away, but sometimes, your eyes would lock – and something about the way he looked at you made it harder to pull away each time.

there were moments when, as soon as he broke eye contact, your stomach would drop ever so slightly, like the warmth and intimacy disappeared along with his gaze.

it felt like sunghoon began to find small ways to close the distance between you during practice. he’d guide you through spins with his hands resting on your waist, his touch firm but gentle. sometimes, he’d step a little closer than needed, his breath ghosting across your skin, or position himself so your arms brushed as you skated side by side. it was subtle, almost unintentional, but every touch and nearness sent a spark of awareness through you. you swore, once or twice he'd even tried to expand your practice time by 'just wanting to go through it one more time' although everything had worked out perfectly fine.

you still couldn't quite classify the fuzzy feeling in your stomach, the way your heart performed a small jump at each touch, but whatever it was, it became increasingly harder to ignore.

it even started clouding your mind outside of practice. more often than you'd liked to admit, you had found yourself thinking back about one certain look he'd given you, or how the slightest brush of his fingers against your skin had sent a shiver down your spine.

"you like him," your best friend had said, matter-of-factly, after you had mentioned it. but that was ridiculous. there was no way you could like sunghoon. you tried convincing yourself it was just the excitement of finally making progress on the ice again. and even if you did like him – though you definitely didn’t – it wouldn't matter. not with the tension between him and your brother, the way they could barely stand each other. getting involved with sunghoon would feel like a betrayal, a line you couldn’t cross. and yet, the thought nagged at you each time the fuzzy feeling returned.

just like now, standing in front of him after trying a new figure together for the first time. you had learned it with jisung before your injury, but until now, you’d only focused on regaining trust in the basics. you’d been nervous before the first attempt, but as you looked up at sunghoon, his soft smile seemed to melt all your worries away.

“well done,” he praised gently. you noticed the subtle twitch of his hand, like he wanted to reach out and pat your head but held back. your eyes met his, and for a brief moment, you swore there was something behind the happiness – a flicker of something you couldn’t quite name. you tried to brush it off, but found yourself searching his face, his posture, for clues of whatever it was you couldn’t place.

his shoulders seemed a little more slouched today, his smile not quite as bright, and his skin just a shade paler than usual. biting your lip, you furrowed your brows, a quiet concern creeping in.

“what’s wrong?” sunghoon asked, sensing the thoughts running through your mind.

“are you… are you okay?” you asked hesitantly, unsure if you were offending him.

sunghoon shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “i’m fine,” he said lightly, as if to brush away your concern. it wasn’t entirely convincing, but you didn’t want to push him. so, you nodded, offering a faint smile in return. you forced yourself to accept his answer and let it go, for now, trying to quiet the worry that still tugged at the edges of your mind nevertheless.

over the next few days, it only seemed to get worse. sunghoon’s movements a little less precise, his usually sharp focus seemingly slipping here and there. whenever you asked, he’d brush it off with a smile and insist he was fine.

but the more he shrugged it off, the more that quiet worry in the back of your mind grew, as if it was trying to tell you something would happen. and it did happen. it happened so quickly, you barely had time to process it.

sunghoon’s hands, usually so steady and sure, faltered mid-lift. you felt his grip slip, and for a terrifying second, your balance wavered in the air. instinctively, you tightened your hold, your heart racing with slight panic. it wasn’t like him – he never made mistakes like this. sunghoon was always precise, always in control, and this slip was completely out of character.

your coach shouted, rushing over as sunghoon quickly adjusted, pulling you back down safely, but the moment had already passed, the weight of it settling deep in your chest. you glanced at him, breathless and shaken, catching the flicker of concern in his eyes before he quickly masked it with a tight-lipped smile. there was a hint of guilt there too – he knew this shouldn’t have happened, and he knew you noticed, knew the effect it must have had on you.

"maybe you should take a moment," your coach advised, her voice soft but her eyes stern. sunghoon's gaze was fixated on the ice, but he gave a short nod and slid towards the exit, sitting down on the nearest bench without another word.

you bit the inside of your cheek, a heaviness settling in your heart as you slowly followed him. the sight of him – clearly frustrated – pulled at you. you lingered by the bench for a moment, unsure if taking a seat would be crossing a line. but sunghoon quickly shifted to the side, creating space for you, silently signaling that it was okay to join him.

he kept his eyes on his feet, not daring to look up, the previous incident replaying in his mind.

"don't beat yourself up over that," you tried to soothen his obvious concerns with a soft voice, "it's fine."

"my moves weren't precise today. i already messed up my own elements, and now i put you in danger too," he replied, his voice low, but his frustration clearly evident.

"nothing happened, sunghoon," you said, mustering all your strength to not take his hand in yours and squeeze it comfortingly, "maybe you just need a break? is everything okay? like… in total," you suggested once more, subtly referring to the previous times you had asked about how he was doing, hoping that this time he might finally open up.

but he just nodded, before standing up, "i don't need a break; i need practice," he declared, ending the conversation before it had chance to bloom.

as he stepped back onto the ice, determination etched on his face, you couldn’t help but watch him closely. the way he moved was both graceful and strained, each stride echoing the tension that filled the air. you felt a knot tighten in your stomach as he began to practice the solo elements he had messed up earlier.

your heart raced with a mix of admiration and worry, each jump and spin a reminder of how much he was pushing himself. the intensity in his eyes was unwavering, but beneath it, you could see the shadows of something else lurking.

he attempted a particularly complex jump, the same one that had caused him trouble before. for a brief moment, it looked like he might conquer it, but then his form faltered, and your breath hitched. you saw him hesitate, an unfamiliar flicker of uncertainty crossing his features, and before you could call out, he stumbled.

time seemed to slow as you watched, helpless, your heart pounding in your chest. just as quickly as he had leaped into the air, he lost his balance completely. you gasped as he fell, the ice rushing up to meet him, and everything else faded away.

“sunghoon!” the panic surged through you as you rushed forward, the world around you blurring.

kneeling beside him, your hands hovered just above his shoulders, torn between the instinct to touch him and the paralyzing fear that gripped your heart. in that terrifying moment, clarity struck. all those signs he had shrugged off – the weariness in his eyes, the small mistakes he tried so hard to mask – must have been exhaustion from the endless hours of practice.

you felt your worries wash over you in waves again and again, feeling like they would drown you any time, as another realization hit you like a jolt of electricity: you were scared of something happening to him, of losing him. an unfamiliar ache settled deep within you, and it was in that moment that you understood – your best friend had been right all along; you liked him. you liked him in a way that twisted your heart and made your breath catch, and the thought terrified you even more.

“sunghoon, please,” you whispered, desperation coloring your voice as you gently shook him, praying he would respond.

your coach rushed beside you just split seconds later. "give him some space,” she instructed, her tone urgent. you stepped back, watching helplessly as she assessed the situation. you felt a wave of nausea wash over you, the reality of what had just happened sinking in.

moments felt like hours as you stood there, anxiety filling every inch of your body, until he finally fluttered his eyes open, sending a jolt of hope through you.

"sunghoon?" you asked, your voice slightly breaking, and you realized tears had started running down your face.

he blinked slowly, confusion clouding his gaze as he took a moment to focus on your face. his heart slightly dropped at the sight of you – a mixture of worry and fear written all over your tear-strained face. he opened his mouth, but you replied, before he could even pose the question.

"you fainted," you said, your voice shaking, "i got so scared."

his brows furrowed, guilt flashing in his eyes as he processed your words. “i’m sorry… i didn't mean to worry you,” he said, trying to sit up but clearly still disoriented.

"you can't keep pushing yourself like this," you said lowly, "it's too much, you have to take care of yourself," you tried your best to stay reasonable, to not let all your emotions mingle and take over you completely.

as he looked at you, the weight of everything hung between you like a fragile bridge, and you felt a shift in the air. vulnerability seeped through him, his expression softening as he realized the depth of your worry. he offered a faint smile, before grabbing your hand in his and giving it just the hint of a squeeze, unable to muster more strength.

his touch felt grounding, reassuring, despite the whirlwind of feelings swirling around inside you. for a moment, it felt like everything around you faded away.

"you've been improving so much, and i just wanted to nail the routine," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, and you swore you could hear him adding a quiet "for you."

"you don't have to prove anything, hoon. you're good and you know it. it's okay to take breaks sometimes," you said softly, mindlessly running your thumb over the back of his hand.

sunghoon couldn't surpress a smile at the nickname and the way your soft touch lingered on his hand. "i'll listen to you sooner next time."

after helping him on his feet, your coach dismissed both of you, instructing sunghoon to get some proper rest and a few days off of practice.

the two of you exited the building in silence, not quite ready to let go of the intimate moment you'd shared just a few minutes ago, neither ready to address it, however. you offered to drive him home in his car, not wanting him to go behind the steering wheel so shortly after fainting – and sunghoon had to admit his attempt to reassure you to not worry was only half-hearted. he quickly let you convince him, giving you the keys and navigating you to his place.

as you pulled up to the building, sunghoon shifted in his seat, his gaze drifting toward the door as if contemplating something. once the engine was off, he turned to you, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

“do you want to... do you want to come in for a bit?” he offered softly, the invitation hanging in the air between you.

you hesitated, glancing at the front door as a wave of uncertainty washed over you. you wanted to, you really did. but then again, you couldn't. what if your brother found out? what would he think?

"um... i'm not sure," you quietly answered, looking down to avoid his eyes. sunghoon’s expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face, but he quickly masked it. “i get it,” he said, his voice a little softer now. "but... can i ask you something?"

you nodded, curiosity piquing despite your reservations.

"why were you crying earlier?" he hesitantly posed the question.

you furrowed your eyebrows, "i was worried about you, i told you," you replied, trying to remain calm although your heart started to violently pound against your chest.

sunghoon’s gaze softened. “worried about me to the point of crying?” he echoed, as if trying to grasp the weight of your concern.

you hesitated for a moment, before slowly nodding your head yes.

"why?"

a simple question: one word that took you buy surprise, that left your head spinning. how could you possibly explain to him all the thoughts and feelings you’ve experienced over the past few weeks – how you felt when he touched you, or even when he simply looked at you?

sunghoon sensed your hesitation, wondering if he'd crossed a line – made you too uncomfortable. just as he was about to take back the question, you replied.

"because... because i think you mean more to me than i thought." your voice was low, as if embarassed by the confession.

he furrowed his brows, "what do you mean by that?"

you took a deep breath, before starting to blurt out everything that had been on your mind for so long. "honestly, i don't know myself. or at least i didn't, until i saw you fainting and i suddenly felt this strange fear of losing you. and that's when it hit me and i understood that i've been trying to ignore how i feel when you touch me, when we're close or when we just look at each other. but you make it so so hard to ignore it and–"

you interrupted yourself as you felt him taking your smaller hand in his bigger one, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver through you. only then did you realize all the things you had mindlessly said. "that must have sounded very stupid," you mumbled, your cheeks warming.

sunghoon chuckled softly. "it didn't sound stupid. i'm glad i'm not the only one feeling this way."

his words first brought a rush of surprise, then a flicker of relief, only to be crashed down by a wave of uncertainty. "but... hyuk–"

he squeezed your hand gently, silencing your worries with his touch yet again. "we don't have to figure everything out right now. let's just... take things slow and see where this goes?"

you hesitated, but replied with a nod and a soft smile.

your heart skipped a beat as you noticed him letting his gaze wander from your eyes down to your lips and back up. like magnets, both of you leaned in a little closer, your breath getting stuck in your throat as you felt his own breath fanning your lips.

sunghoon hesitated for a moment, his gaze drifting to back to your eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation. "can i... can i kiss you?"

you felt your heart pick up its pace as you nodded almost shyly.

he leaned in a little more, his lips softly brushing against yours, closing the space between them. the touch was tender, almost hesitant, yet it sent butterflies through your stomach as you reciprocated the gesture, finally letting everything you'd felt throughout the past weeks embrace freely.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

after confessing your feelings, you and sunghoon agreed to take things slow, not wanting to rush into anything complicated. it started with small moments – telling your brother you were meeting up with a friend, sneaking in quick kisses when no one was looking, your heart racing each time. the thrill of being together in secret made everything feel more intense, like something you should be careful with but couldn’t resist. the excitement of new love mixed with the adrenaline of knowing you couldn’t be caught. still, every time you met sunghoon like this, a part of you felt torn, guilt gnawing at you for going behind your brother’s back. but when sunghoon would glance at you with that soft look in his eyes or find your hand when no one was around, it was impossible to stop.

now, after another late practice, the two of you were tucked away in a quiet corner of the rink, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that made your stomach flip. you pulled back, breathless. “we should stop,” you said, glancing over your shoulder. “practice is over. someone might see us.”

sunghoon’s hand lingered on the small of your back, tugging you just a little closer. “just a bit longer,” he murmured, eyes filled with something that made it hard to say no. “i don’t care if they see.”

you hesitated, torn between the rush of being with him and the thought of getting caught. “we can’t,” you whispered, even as your body leaned toward him again.

just as you were about to step back, you heard footsteps approaching. before either of you could react, a familiar voice broke the moment.

“hey,” jisung called out, his tone casual.

you quickly turned to face him, heart pounding in your chest. jisung smiled, stepping closer, his arm easily wrapping around you in a friendly hug. “good work today,” he said, holding you close for just a second too long. it was the kind of hug that might’ve seemed normal to anyone else, but you could feel sunghoon tense beside you, his eyes hardening as he watched.

“yeah, thanks,” you replied, doing your best to sound natural, your breath still shaky from moments ago. you gave jisung a quick smile, hoping to cover up the tension.

jisung finally let you go, throwing a glance at sunghoon before turning toward the changing rooms. “you guys deserve your weekend off now,” he said, walking away without a second thought.

as soon as he disappeared from sight, you let out a shaky breath, turning to sunghoon. “that was close,” you whispered, the tension still running high between you.

sunghoon shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “too close,” he muttered, clearly not talking about almost getting caught.

when you got home, you dropped your bag in the hallway without a second thought and headed straight to the kitchen for a glass of water. your brother was sitting at the table, focused on his laptop, but he glanced up as you walked in.

"how was practice?" he asked.

the water nearly caught in your throat, even though his question wasn’t unusual. he always checked in, especially after your injury and now that you were paired with sunghoon.

"uh... it was good. coach said i’ll be ready to work with jisung again soon," you lied, forcing a tight smile.

hyuk mirrored your expression. "sounds good. i have an appointment near the rink on monday, so i can drop you off at practice if you want," he offered. you hesitated, knowing sunghoon was supposed to pick you up – from the bus stop to avoid suspicion – but you nodded. "yeah, that’d be great."

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

the weekend passed in a blur, and on monday, hyuk drove you to practice, the car filled with silence. you glanced out the window, trying to calm the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

when you arrived at the rink, hyuk parked and turned to you with a serious look. "i need to talk to coach about my own practice," he said. "you mind coming in with me?"

“sure,” you replied, trying to sound casual, even as you felt a knot form in your stomach at the serious look he was giving you.

as you stepped inside, the familiar sound of metal on ice surrounded you. hyuk led the way, but as soon as you entered the main rink area, he suddenly stopped, his gaze locking onto something. you followed his line of sight and your heart dropped. there, on the bench, was sunghoon, his back to you.

“sunghoon!” hyuk called, his voice sharp, and you instinctively felt the air thicken around you.

sunghoon turned, surprise flashing across his face before it shifted into something more guarded. hyuk walked closer, pulling out his phone with a swift motion. “what’s this?” he demanded, holding it up for both you and sunghoon to see. on the screen was a photo of you and sunghoon in the familiar corner of the rink, sharing a kiss – captured in a moment you thought was private.

your stomach dropped. “hyuk, I can explain–” you started, panic rising in your chest, but he cut you off, his expression darkening.

“explain what? that you two were kissing?” he snapped, incredulity flooding his voice. “this is messed up, y/n. you know better than this!”

you stumbled over your words, desperate to cover it up. “no, it’s not like that! we were just–”

“yes, it absolutely is like that,” sunghoon suddenly chimed in, standing up with a mix of determination and frustration. he looked at you, his eyes reflecting both anger and a hint of regret, before turning to hyuk. “we're dating.”

you felt your heart drop at his words, a wave of shock crashing over you. “sunghoon, wait–” you tried to chime in, but he shook his head.

“don’t deny it, y/n,” he said firmly, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. he understood your attempt to conceal it, yet he coulnd't help but feel it tugging at his heart a little.

hyuk's expression twisted into a furious scowl. “you two should not be involved at all! you both should have known better!” his voice rose, filled with disbelief and anger.

“hyuk, it’s not like that–” you began again, but your brother cut you off.

“sunghoon’s probably just messing with you to get under my skin,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “you can’t honestly believe he cares about you.”

sunghoon stepped forward, his jaw clenched in frustration, protectiveness surging within him. “not everything is about you, hyuk!" he turned to you, "i'm being genuine, i–", he attempted to reach for your hand, but hyuk was quick to grab sunghoon's wrist, holding it firmly.

"don't fucking touch her," he hissed.

the tension hung thick in the air as the two of them stared each other down, neither willing to back down. you felt the weight of the situation pressing down on you, torn between the anger and hurt radiating from your brother and the fierce protectiveness emanating from sunghoon.

he looked at you, trying to lock your eyes, almost faltering at the overload of emotion they failed to hide, "she deserves better than to feel like she has to hide it," he said to hyuk, yet his gaze never left you. the intensity in his eyes made your heart race, but it only deepened the conflict swirling within you.

“better?” hyuk sneered, his voice low and dangerous. “better than what? better than the guy who will just throw her aside when it’s convenient for him? he doesn’t care about you, y/n.”

“shut up finally!” you snapped, the frustration spilling over.

sunghoon’s grip on your heart tightened as he took a step closer, his voice softening. “y/n, i care about you. i don’t want you to feel ashamed or torn. this is real for me.”

“and that’s what makes this so dangerous,” hyuk interjected, his tone biting. “you don’t see it, do you? you’re getting involved with someone who has every reason to betray you. think about it, y/n. don’t let him mess with your head just because he’s your partner on the ice.”

you felt a surge of emotion, a whirlwind of confusion and anger. the weight of their words pressed heavily on your chest. “hyuk, you need to trust me. i’m not a child!”

“trust you?” hyuk laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “you’re choosing him over your own brother? someone who’s supposed to look out for you?”

“it’s not that simple!” you shouted, the tears threatening to spill over. “you’re making this so much harder than it needs to be!”

hyuk’s gaze hardened, his voice lowering to a chilling whisper. “you think this will end well? it never does with him. don’t let him drag you into his mess.”

“i’m not a part in your stupid rivalry or whatever shit!” you retorted, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

hyuk’s expression shifted, caught between anger and concern. he took a breath, as if weighing his words. “i just don’t want to see you hurt. sunghoon isn’t who you think he is.”

with that, he turned sharply and walked away, leaving you in a storm of conflicting emotions. you felt exposed, like you were standing between two forces that wanted to pull you apart.

as your gaze followed hyuk, your heart racing, you spotted jisung leaning against the wall, his presence striking in the silence that followed. he was watching you, a mix of emotions flickering across his face – an apology, a hint of regret. you felt a pang in your heart as he turned away and headed toward the changing room, the weight of everything crashing down around you.

the practice that followed felt awkward and uncomfortable, each glide on the ice a reminder of the tension from earlier. sunghoon sensed your turmoil. he remained soft with you, his gaze filled with understanding. though he wanted to support you, he respected your need for space, accepting your decision to go home alone rather than insisting on taking you.

as days passed, hyuk’s words replayed in your mind, planting seeds of doubt about sunghoon’s intentions. “he’s just playing a game, y/n,” hyuk would say, his tone smooth yet laced with disdain. the more you heard, the more you questioned sunghoon’s sincerity. with each meeting at the rink, you felt an invisible barrier tightening between you, leaving you torn between love and uncertainty.

sunghoon noticed the change, his concern deepening. one evening, he confronted you after practice, his voice gentle at first. “y/n, is everything okay? you seem… different.”

you hesitated, forcing a smile that felt hollow. “i’m fine.”

“you don’t have to pretend with me,” he pressed. “if something's bothering you, just tell me.” he sensed what was about to come, yet it hit him like a punch in the face.

“i’m just... not sure about your intentions,” you admitted, the weight of your own thoughts finally sinking in.

his expression shifted, frustration simmering beneath the surface. “y/n, you can’t think i’m here to hurt you,” he shot back, hurt evident in his eyes. “after everything, how can you doubt me?”

you hesitated, the intensity of his plea hitting hard. “i just… need time,” you murmured.

“time? or are you running away from what’s real?” he challenged, the pain in his voice slicing through you. “you’re shutting me out, choosing to believe him over me.”

you sighed, your mind heavy with thoughts and frustration, and all you wanted was to shut everything out and be alone until it all stopped. "this isn't about you and him..."

"it shouldn't be. it should be about me and you – about us. you're choosing to let him ruin this."

as the weight of his words settled between you, you felt guilt wash over you. he was right. without waiting for a response, he turned away, frustration propelling him to leave. you stood frozen, the space between you widening, regret spreading in your chest as he walked away.

just as you were about to leave the rink, you heard footsteps approaching you from behind. you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. hell, you just wanted to finally go home.

jisung stepped forward, shifting nervously on his feet. “y/n,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “can we talk for a second?”

you kept your gaze fixed ahead, avoiding his eyes. “what do you want now?” you replied, not bothering to hide the lack of willingness to talk to anyone right now.

"i have to tell you something." he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoided your eyes. “i, uh… i was the one who sent the picture to hyuk,” he admitted, the words tumbling out quickly. “i didn’t think it would cause this much trouble. i was just… feeling kinda–” he paused, struggling to find the right words, “jealous? i never wanted it to blow up like this.”

the words felt like a punch to the gut, anger rising within you. “why would you do that?” you asked, hurt lacing your voice.

“please, just listen–”

“you know what, no,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “i don’t want to hear it. you’ve already done enough.” you turned away, the weight of his confession heavy in the air. you walked out of the rink, desperate to finally escape the chaos.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

days after the incident, you hadn't spoken a word to neither of the three. you had asked your coach to take a break from pair skating, telling her you wanted to focus on mastering your solo routines. it was a lie – you just needed space from everything and everyone.

across the rink, hyuk leaned against the barrier, arms crossed and expression unreadable. a few feet further stood sunghoon, who had come for his own practice, a tense silhouette against the bright ice. though they weren’t speaking, hyuk could feel the electric tension in the air between them. his gaze flicked between you and sunghoon, noticing the way sunghoon watched you. there was a softness in his eyes, a longing that tugged at hyuk’s heart.

sunghoon's brows furrowed as you executed a particularly difficult move, his expression a mixture of admiration and concern. each time you stumbled, his body tensed, as if he wanted to rush forward to catch you, but he remained rooted in place. hyuk’s gaze narrowed slightly as he observed this; it was clear that beneath the facade, sunghoon genuinely cared for you.

hyuk watched the interplay between you and the ice, his heart heavy with unspoken words. sunghoon’s intensity was palpable, and it ignited a flicker of frustration within hyuk. he pushed himself away from the barrier, moving toward sunghoon with determination.

“hey,” he called out, his voice cutting through the air. sunghoon turned slightly, his expression shifting from concentration to guardedness. “we need to talk.”

“about what?” sunghoon replied, his tone laced with defiance.

“about y/n,” hyuk said, glancing back to ensure you were still focused on your practice. “i was wrong to come between you two. i don't trust you, but i can see it. you care about her.”

sunghoon’s brows furrowed, a mixture of surprise and frustration washing over his face. "what changed?"

"i’ve watched how you look at her, the way you worry when she struggles. that’s not something you can fake. it’s clear you care more than i thought.”

sunghoon hesitated, his expression softening under hyuk’s scrutiny. “i do care, but it’s complicated. i didn’t mean for things to get so messed up.”

hyuk sighed, hesitantly giving in. "i was the one to mess it up," he admitted.

sunghoon raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the way hyuk's expression softened.

“you know,” hyuk continued, “you should really talk it out with her. she’s been off these past few days. she used to come home with a smile after every practice.” his voice trailed off as he realized the weight of what he’d overlooked in recent weeks. “and if you’re the reason for that smile, then… i suppose i’ll have to accept it, right?”

sunghoon remained silent, unsure if he could truly trust hyuk’s words. yet the thought of you beaming after spending time with him tugged at his heart, igniting a deep desire to keep that smile alive.

"just don't let her down, okay? she deserves to be happy," he said, reaching out to softly pat his shoulder, before walking off.

as you finished your practice, a glance toward the rink’s edge caught your attention. hyuk and sunghoon stood together, an exchange of words passing between them, and you could even see hyuk gently squeezing sunghoon's shoulder. you furrowed your brows. you swore you'd never seen an interaction like this happening.

moments later, you saw sunghoon approaching you, his expression soft yet earnest.

“y/n,” he began, his voice laced with hesitation, “i’m really sorry for everything that happened... i shouldn’t have pressured you or put you in that position.”

you felt the weight of his words settle in your chest. “no, it’s my fault,” you replied, your heart racing. “i let hyuk get in my head and i shouldn’t have let that come between us. i was so scared of disappointing him that i lost sight of what really mattered...”

sunghoon stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. “i shouldn’t have told him about us like that. i was frustrated, and it felt like i was losing you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “i never wanted to make you feel trapped or unsure.”

tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you took a breath, feeling the sincerity in his words, and for the first time you openly confessed, “i love you, sunghoon. i don’t want to hide that anymore. i just want us to be okay.”

he nodded, his expression softening further, his heart fluttering from your confession. “i love you too, y/n. and i promise, no matter what, i’ll always fight for us.”

his words wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, instilling a sense of certainty that made you feel grounded and safe. you stepped closer, minimizing the distance between you, and softly brought your hands to rest on his chest. sunghoon responded by placing his hands on your waist, pulling you a fraction closer, before leaning down to tenderly brush his lips against yours – all out in the open, finally for everyone to see. <3

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

© dazzlingjaeyun, 2024. please do not copy.

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[austinsastrology8991]

> Ascendant Aspects < How you Appear to be, and how your treated based off your appearances > why you look like a clown without makeup

Ascendant aspecting Sun - I like your smile. Did you put it on for me, or for yourself? yes your charismatic, yes we noticed why your so confident, yes your literally the greatest person do you really need us to shower you in affection all the fkn time? your extra but too many toppings ruin a good pizza. your the embodiment of the cheesy smile from that cat in alice in wonderland. main character energy for sure you get the attention and you know how to use it Ascendant Aspecting moon - 🌚 < dont they look like that.? idk but you guys look like someone you want to grab the cheeks of and treat like a baby, your like a sugar glider. but we know your emotional so we have to be careful with how we grab your cheeks 👀 please stop crying its just a joke > also; big ass eyes. you are so sweet that everyone just wants to take you home and feed you till you become so obese you cant leave Ascendant Aspecting Mercury - the most devilish and cheeky smile all at once. they look like a kid about to do something bad, or have just been caught doing something bad and are now trying to explain why they had to do that dumbassery. but no matter how much you explain yourself, we will still question you because its funny watching you come up with explanations. you give me the vibe of any character from cartoon network or nickledoen - timmy turner, southpark, phineas and ferb, ed edd and eddy, or fkn bart simpson, you act like a cartoon yes.

Ascendant Aspecting Venus - I dont normally do this but whats ur number? is what your used to hearing presumably. and its not necessarily because your attractive... okay you are, you can stop pouting now. but its because you know how to get attention and you clearly love getting it. but they act so superficial, and oblivious sometimes... like they purposrfully look away just so its easier for you to look at them, 💀 then they look back playfully and it gets you in the feels. remind me of doctor who's bitches (any of them) they all act the same idc what you say

Ascendant Aspecting Mars - so pissed off lol but its hot. they are fierce > if they want something they are going to get it, and even the mere consideration of negotiating what they want will just get them more mad. which makes them more attractive? idk people love their ferocity, and as much as people say they don't like aggressive types, they don't ever get in their way when they pissed off (ik because im hot head) your basically a hornet > and no one gonna fight a hornet without the proper precautions Ascendant aspecting Jupiter - Yall are excellent at impressions and being impressionable, idk how you do it so well. You just act normal but then pull off this funny shit and return back to normal like its nothing. you guys perfected just being, and this energy makes people want to be around you. Your like a firework, the explosion is awesome, but when it goes away your like damn that was awesome wish it stayed; but thats what makes it so good, because we never know when its coming, and when its gone we want it back lol Ascendant Aspecting Saturn - batman without the mask sucks. thats you. batman without the mask.... why so serious???? > "because life shouldnt be taking for granted and fuckery aint apart of my Repertoire" - is some whack ass shit yall would say. you have great dignity, but people get insecure around you because your on top of your shit. oh and you tell people to get on top of their shit all the fkn time lol. > your like a crow, you look like one and act like one. - Side note- one time i had a stand off with a crow: I was chilling at home and i was on top of these tile blocks, then this crow came along. I tried to scare him, by like staunching him just a bit. but he responded by gripping the tree branch he was perched on, by twisting his claw foot; and he did it with so much ferocity it made this bone cracking noise (from the strength of his grip gripping the tree) and suddenly i was intimated.... by a fkn crow. okay moving on

Ascendant Aspecting Uranus - how did you even become like that. no one really understands why you act the way you do, you do some really eccentric things which are eye grabbing but also disturbing the more you think about it. your like a sword fish. theres probably more effective ways to kill fish, but i mean a sword works, we are just wondering how you attached a sword to your face. also try to calm down, you doing so much and acting so bizarre that im actually more worried about you, even though im laughing my ass off. Ascendant Aspecting Neptune - your like a mirror of all that i ever could want in a person, and this mysterious allure you so easily pull off is truly enchanting. its like being around you makes it feel as if reality can so easily be readjusted into what i would like it to be. but this quality of urs is addicting, and no wonder people project onto you. but you cant even blame them, you literally shapeshift into whatever you want, and typically you like to show it off. your like a chameleon. or a axolotl Ascendant Aspecting Pluto - you scare people easily lol. your a spider. but spiders are sexy.... look at the BUNDA. okay but those teeth yeesh, have you ever seen a spider like lick its lips, bro its fkn scary. theres a reason arachnophobia is the most popular phobia and its because spiders are fucked. and yall are fucked. you move like a spider, and i swear to god you smile like one too lol. but people low key wanna be eaten by a spider..... so go ahead choose yo prey you fkn creepy crawler

[inkspiredwriting]

Playground Pandemonium

Five Hargreeves x reader

A/N: I imagine that five would be a great dad. But I also think that he is insecure and is sometimes afraid of becoming just like Reginald. What do you think?

Warnings: None

It was a rare sunny Saturday afternoon, and Five Hargreeves had finally found a day to spend entirely with his wife Y/n and their four-year-old daughter Maddie. They decided to make the most of it by visiting the local playground. Y/n, ever the planner, packed a picnic basket full of Maddie’s favorite snacks, while Five’s contribution was ensuring they arrived early enough to grab the best spot.

As they walked hand in hand through the park, Five scanned the area. “I haven’t been to a playground since, well, ever,” he admitted.

Y/n laughed, squeezing his hand. “You missed out on a quintessential part of childhood, Five. But don’t worry, Maddie will show you the ropes.”

Maddie, bouncing ahead of them with an infectious energy, turned around and called, “Come on, Daddy! You’re gonna love the swings!”

Maddie made a beeline for the swings, and Five found himself being roped into pushing her. “Higher, Daddy! Higher!” she shrieked with delight.

Five, slightly uncertain but determined not to disappoint, gave her a solid push. Maddie soared into the air, laughing gleefully.

“Careful, Five,” Y/n warned, settling on a nearby bench with a watchful eye. “We don’t want her launching into space.”

Five smirked, “I’ve seen worse launches.” He gave Maddie another push, but this time, his mind wandered to a particularly explosive time-travel incident.

Distracted, he pushed a bit too hard. Maddie shrieked—not in delight, but in mild terror—as she swung higher than intended. “Whoa! Okay, not that high!”

Y/n stifled a laugh as Five, looking mortified, rushed to catch the swing on its way back. “Sorry, kiddo,” he said, steadying her. “Daddy’s still learning the basics.”

Maddie giggled, her fear quickly forgotten. “It’s okay, Daddy. Just don’t push me into the future!”

After the swing incident, Maddie led them to the sandbox, where she promptly began constructing an elaborate sandcastle. Five and Y/n joined in, Five more reluctantly.

“Why does this remind me of building fortifications during the apocalypse?” Five muttered as he helped shape a sand wall.

Y/n chuckled. “Probably because you’re overthinking it. Just have fun!”

Maddie, her tongue poking out in concentration, sculpted a turret. “Look, Daddy! A tower!”

Five nodded, actually impressed. “Nice work, Maddie. It’s almost as secure as some of the bunkers I’ve seen.”

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. “Maybe we can skip the part where it gets blown up by time-traveling assassins.”

As they worked, a group of kids approached, drawn by the impressive sandcastle. One boy, clearly the sandbox bully, sneered at their work. “That’s a silly castle,” he said, kicking sand at the base.

Five bristled, ready to give the kid a stern talking-to, but Y/n put a calming hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Five. Let Maddie handle it.”

Maddie stood up, glaring at the boy. “My Daddy can travel through time and fight bad guys. What can your daddy do?”

The boy, taken aback, mumbled something about his dad being a lawyer and scampered off. Five chuckled, giving Maddie a high five. “That’s my girl.”

Y/n called them over to the picnic blanket for snacks. As they sat down, Maddie’s excitement was palpable. “Can I have a juice box, Mommy?”

Y/n handed Maddie a juice box and gave Five a sandwich. “Try not to eat it too quickly,” she teased. “We don’t have a lot of supplies here.”

Five took a bite, nodding appreciatively. “Better than cockroaches.”

Just as they were settling in, a squirrel darted towards the picnic blanket, clearly eyeing their food. Maddie squealed, and Five immediately went into protective mode.

“Back off, rodent!” Five growled, standing up to chase the squirrel away.

The squirrel, unperturbed, grabbed a stray cookie and scampered up a tree. Five glared after it, shaking his fist. “This isn’t over!”

Y/n laughed, pulling him back down to the blanket. “I think we’ll survive without one cookie.”

Maddie, giggling, took a sip of her juice box. “Daddy, you’re so funny when you’re mad.”

Five sat down with a huff, brushing off the dirt. “I’m glad someone thinks so.”

The playground centerpiece was a tall slide, and Maddie insisted that her parents try it with her. Five eyed the slide warily. “Are you sure about this? I mean, what if—”

“No ‘what ifs,’ Five,” Y/n interrupted, grabbing his hand. “It’ll be fun!”

They climbed the ladder, Maddie leading the way. At the top, Five hesitated. “This is higher than it looks.”

Y/n, already halfway down the slide with Maddie, called back, “Don’t chicken out now!”

With a resigned sigh, Five sat at the top of the slide. “Here goes nothing.” He pushed off, the slide’s angle steeper than expected. As he hurtled down, his typically composed expression twisted into one of surprise.

He shot off the end of the slide, landing in an undignified heap on the ground. Maddie burst into laughter, running over to help him up. “That was awesome, Daddy!”

Y/n, laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes, helped him stand. “See? Fun!”

Five dusted himself off, trying to maintain some dignity. “Maybe for you.”

As the sun began to set, the Hargreeves family packed up their picnic and headed home. Maddie, tired from her day of adventure, held each of her parents’ hands, swinging between them.

“That was the best day ever!” she declared, beaming up at them.

Five, despite his usual stoicism, smiled down at her. “I’m glad you had fun, Maddie.”

Y/n leaned her head on Five’s shoulder as they walked. “You know, for someone who’s never been to a playground, you did pretty well.”

Five chuckled. “Well, I had a good teacher.”

As they reached their car, Maddie climbed into her seat, already half-asleep. Five and Y/n shared a look, both of them tired but happy.

“Same time next week?” Five asked, a twinkle in his eye.

Y/n laughed, kissing his cheek. “Absolutely. As long as you promise not to get into a fight with any more squirrels.”

Five grinned. “No promises.”

As the Hargreeves family drove home, the playground behind them, they couldn't help but smile. It was the perfect blend of laughter, love, and just a bit of Hargreeves-style mayhem.

[m3l0nfl0at]

tell your friends - t. kuroo

kuroo tetsurou x gn! reader ; secret relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, relationship problems, misunderstanding, insecurity issues on kuroo’s side, happy ending, and readers issues with their parents pops up for a second, 3.2k words

summary: this is a mini fic based off of my fic here, just say yes but this can be read as a stand alone! after you and kuroo make it official, you decide to hide your relationship from your roommate kenma. what happens when kenma confronts you about how you’re acting around kuroo? (aka reader is conflicted about revealing their relationship to roommate!kenma)

melon’s recommended melody: coward - matt maltese

Ever since Kuroo and you got together, you both decided to keep your relationship a secret from your roommate, Kenma. Now, don’t get me wrong you love your roommate but knowing you’re dating his best friend obviously puts him in an uncomfortable situation between you two. So for now, every time Kuroo comes around to you and Kenma’s apartment you pretend like nothing between you ever happened. That big fight you and Kuroo had that caused you to sleep at Alisa’s for the weekend, poof, doesn’t exist. Kenma notices the weird shift in energy between you two lately, due to his observance but doesn’t want to comment just in case it’s still a touchy situation for you both. Something’s Kenma has noticed between you two includes you blushing more than ever at any mention of Kuroo, Alisa’s playful elbow nudge and teasing eyebrow waggle towards you when Kuroo comes over, and most importantly Kuroo’s silence around you. Kuroo wasn’t usually loud like their friend Bokuto but Kenma would never use the word quiet and Kuroo in a sentence to describe him.

It wasn’t until Kenma noticed your absence in the apartment getting more frequent, every weekend he would knock on your door to find it completely empty and cold. Kenma felt a bit sad, he didn’t want to keep you in an environment you didn’t want to stay in. However, he also felt conflicted. One part of him doesn't want his best friend to stop coming over completely but he also doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable by his presence. Kenma got worried about you when the weekends of you missing turned into weeks, he knew he had to address this situation somehow without it turning into a dumpster fire of drama. Kenma needed you to know you were not only his roommate but you were also his friend first, he would never want to hurt you or make you feel unwanted. Midthought Kenma hears the door click, signaling that you made it home safely. Even though you think he’s probably asleep, he feels more awake than ever seeing you with a large duffel bag at the door.

“Can I ask where you’ve been?” Turning around you jump, met with Kenma’s striking cat-like eyes. “Ken, what’re you doing up? You scared the crap out of me!” Kenma notices you dodge the question, feeling more suspicious than ever. “So, I’m guessing I can’t ask where you’ve been?”, you feel sick to your stomach. You never wanted to lie to Kenma, you’re only doing this to protect him, right? “I was at Alisa’s, that’s why I have this big bag!”, you sputter out your words fast. Kenma lets his head hang, feeling his hair cover his face before stating the obvious. “You’ve been weird ever since you came back with Kuroo, is everything okay with you two?”, palms sweating, knee’s shaking, and fingers fidgeting as you respond. “Yeah, we’re fine. We’re two peas in a pod, me and that guy!”, you smile obnoxiously wide trying to sell your lie. Kenma laughs, seeing right through you, “If he’s intolerable, you know you can tell me right? You don’t have to run away, I miss you being here. I don’t know what happened to you two after that weekend but obviously it was bad.”

Tears well up in your eyes and for a moment you consider if you’re keeping this secret from him for a selfish reason or truly to protect him. “No, Kenma there’s nothing going on between Kuroo and I, okay? What happened between Kuroo and I that weekend means nothing, so don’t feel that you can’t invite him over. That’s your best friend, and it would kill me if I found out that I caused a rift between you two. I just stay away because he’s a teasing ass, he was like that even before we went away.” Kenma knows you’re being truthful due to you taking your time with your words wanting to convey the message clearly to him. “Well if you don’t mind, I’ll invite him over tomorrow. Is that okay with you?” You nod telling him that you had work tomorrow so you might not come home till later, leaving the conversation with the problem patched up.

The next day Kuroo ends up coming over to talk to Kenma. Various topics come up in the conversation from Kenma’s upcoming stream to how the volleyball season is going for their friends in the league. Yet Kuroo can’t help but notice your absence, questioning Kenma mid conversation. Kenma brushes off saying you had an impromptu day of work ahead of you, wanting to continue the conversation about his upcoming stream till Kuroo interrupts him yet again. “Haven’t they been working a lot more lately? I mean I get work is every day but even on weekends they’re gone? Are they not working themselves to the bone?” Kenma huffs feeling tension arise in the conversation at the mention of you, “Yeah well maybe you should talk to them about it. They were being super weird when I mentioned you yesterday.” Kenma lays himself flatly on the couch suddenly feeling fed up. “What do you mean weird? Everything between us is perfectly fine?” Kenma hears Kuroo’s tone of voice raise slightly at the end of his sentence.

He’s lying, Kenma repeats what he did with you, feline like stare aiming right at Kuroo. Hoping that he would break and tell him the whole story that you failed to tell him yesterday. “Ok well if you were both “perfectly fine” then why did they get all fidgety when I brought you up? I mean I believe them more than you. Since they said what happened between you two that weekend meant nothing but I know you’re both leaving something out.” Kuroo’s ears hear a high monotone pitch, speeding up Kenma’s last sentence and putting it on a constant loop in his head. Kuroo frantically gets up, it means nothing huh? Did you really think that way or were you just saying that to get Kenma off both of your guys’ back? Kuroo gets that you wanted to hide your relationship from Kenma but going to the extreme and saying the weeknd that cemented your relationship meant nothing? Why couldn’t you just tell him, was he embarrassing, did you think he wasn’t worthy enough to be your boyfriend? Kuroo needed to get out of your apartment fast, he needed to talk to you before his head started spinning with false truths.

“Kenma, I’ll talk to you later. I forgot I had a meeting today with MSBY. I’ll tell Shoyo you said hi.” Kuroo doesn’t even give Kenma a second to respond before going outside to get some fresh air. Immediately calling you up for an explanation, only to be met with your voicemail. “When you’re done with work can you head over to mine. I need to talk to you face to face, please.” Hearing Kuroo’s voicemail when you left work felt like you were listening to Kuroo having a panic attack. You knew you had to drop everything to make your way to him quickly before anything else bad happens to him. Shooting Kenma a text that you were going to run an errand before heading to the apartment today. Taking the train to Kuroo’s, you knock on his door opening up only to be met with Kuroo’s blank stare burning a hole into you. “Tetsu, what’s up? Are you okay, you sounded troubled on the phone?” You place your hands on his face, caressing it softly.

Your heart drops when Kuroo takes your hands off his face, “You can’t do this. You can’t run to me and call me sweet names then tell Kenma that what happened that weekend doesn’t matter to you. How long are you going to keep us a secret?” You were silenced knowing Kuroo was speaking the truth, “I’m sorry Kuroo, you’re right. It’s not fair of me to want to keep you a secret knowing that we’re together almost everyday.” Kuroo falls silent still feeling hurt by your actions deciding to let his insecurities take over, “Do you regret being with me?”. You quickly look up baffled, “Tetsu, no absolutely not! Everyday that I wake up to you I’m reminded of everything I did right in my life to be able to be with you. I’m so sorry Tetsu, from here on out I will prove through my actions and my words that you truly mean a lot to me.” You go up to Kuroo to hug him as tight as possible, not wanting to let go of him at this moment. Whispering sweet nothings in his ear to reassure him and ease all of his insecurities.

“I was scared to tell Kenma not because of you but because I’m scared something will change between Kenma and I or even worse something will change between Kenma and you. I would never forgive myself if I was the reason that something bad happened in your friendship. However, what I failed to realize is that by doing this I was causing a rift in our relationship and I’m truly sorry Kuroo. I’m scared of what’ll come after we tell Kenma about us but that doesn’t give me the right to dismiss your feelings and our relationship.” Kuroo stares at you before grabbing your hand, “Well whatever comes we’re going to go through it together, remember?” Kuroo grabs you before pulling you into the couch tickling the sides of your stomach, “Promise me you’ll tell me what’s going on in that big overthinking brain of yours next time.” Your laughter echoes throughout his living room before you shout that you promise in hopes that he’ll stop tickling you.

Kuroo’s reminded that this was just an obstacle in your relationship, the first of many but he’s glad to have a partner that’s as understanding as you. Just as you both stop laughing he’s met with a harsh knock, you both exchange glances at each other than at the door, questioning who it could be? “Kuroo, it’s the weekend you do not have a meeting today liar. I heard you laughing too, so I know you’re in there.” Hearing Kenma at the other end of the door Kuroo shoots you a glance before you grab his hands squeezing them, “In this together, remember?” You get up wanting to show Kuroo you were ready to take initiative for your relationship. Opening the door you greet a confused Kenma, “Hey Ken, what brings you here?”. Kenma’s brows furrow, unsure that you’re even real and standing in front of him right now, “That’s weird because I could ask you the same question? Is this the errand you were talking about?”

You open the door wider showing Kuroo sitting on the couch, Kuroo pats the cushion next to him to get Kenma to sit down. Kenma points at him then to you, still confused as to why you were in Kuroo’s apartment. “Come in Ken, we have some explaining to do.” you shift the conversation knowing that Kenma might need some time to process everything. Kenma sits slowly, not feeling the weird tension he’s felt these past couple of weeks between you and Kuroo. You take a seat right next to Kuroo, grabbing his hand to begin fidgeting with his fingers before he decides to intertwine them. “Ken, Kuroo and I are together, we’ve been together ever since that weekend we came back together.”, looking up you see Kenma’s eyes return back to their relaxed state. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Kenma looks up at both of you, not showing any signs of anger more so confusion.

“To be honest Ken, I was the one who didn’t want to tell you. Kuroo just wanted to do what felt the most comfortable to me. I was scared things would get awkward between us or you two, I didn’t want anything to change.” Kenma notices how softly Kuroo looks at you while you explain your doubts, “I would never hold anything against you two, you’re both old enough to make decisions. As your friend, I’m happy for you both and thank you for telling me. Just next time please tell me sooner, I thought something terrible happened between you two and you were on the verge of moving out.” Kenma knows you always had a hard time opening up due to the problems your family put you through. Yet seeing Kuroo being next to you, caressing your hand making sure you felt safe while opening up hit a soft spot in his heart. Yeah, you guys were going to be together forever and Kenma would never doubt that. Kenma’s never seen Kuroo so soft with someone before, sure Kuroo was a patient person due to his teacher like qualities. However with you he was so careful like you were made out of glass. He looked at you like you were so beautiful yet something that could be broken if not taken care of properly. He knew if anyone was going to go above and beyond for you romantically it would be Kuroo, the guy’s been crazy about you ever since you moved in with Kenma.

Kenma remembers how you used to dislike Kuroo teasing you but what you didn’t know was that, that was how Kuroo showed his affection. You thought he liked Alisa for the longest time because he never teased her but Kenma always laughed at that conclusion. He never teased Alisa because he wasn’t comfortable enough with her, it was always going to be you. Everyone around you knew that one way or another you two would end up together and he’s glad you see it now too. “Is that why you’ve both been acting so weird? I knew something was off, you started blushing whenever Kuroo came over and Kuroo became super quiet anytime I mentioned you.” Kuroo and you looked away from each other feeling suddenly exposed by Kenma analyzing your offbeat yet longing behavior. “I mean Kuroo would never shut up anytime I mentioned you, talking about how cute you were, how you were so caring, and how amazing you handle yourself! So for him to shut up? You must have him in a chokehold.” Kuroo coughs loudly, “Okay that’s enough out of you Kenma. No need to mention the past.” You laugh gently nudging Kuroo aside, “No no, Kenma tell me more.”

Kenma takes a while to remember Kuroo’s strange behavior towards you, “Well after we moved in together Kuroo came over everyday for a week straight because he was trying to work himself up to talk to you. You should’ve seen him, he was practicing talking to you in our bathroom mirror but when you would come home he would suddenly forget everything he practiced.” Kenma and you giggle, Kenma remembering Kuroo’s fake confidence while Kuroo rolls his eyes. “Well that doesn’t matter because they’re mine now, isn’t that right sweetheart?” Kuroo kisses your cheek. Reminiscing on the sleepless nights where you helplessly consumed all of his thoughts, oh how lucky he was now that you’re actually his. Now, he could scream from the rooftops that you were together, post those cringey pictures on social media flaunting his relationship, and he would tell anyone how amazing his partner was to anyone who would be willing to listen.

Kenma grimaces because even though he was happy for you two oblivious idiots, it didn't mean he had to get used to you guys’ PDA. “Well Kuroo they aren’t innocent either.”, you look over at Kenma, laughing. “Ken no offense you have nothing on me, I just thought Kuroo was a teasing jerk.”, Kenma looks over at you while his face says really? “Ok then why would every time I mention Kuroo to you you would start stuttering your words? Or that one time we got drunk and we played truth or dare and you said you wanted to kiss Kuroo even if it was just once?” You rush over to Kenma covering his mouth, “How dare you? You said you would never tell that story!” Kuroo is the one laughing with Kenma, “Aww bunny, you always had a soft spot for me didn’t you? I knew you never hated my teasing you masochist.” You cover your face with your hands feeling more embarrassed than ever, “I hate you both now. You’ve both been demoted from best friend and boyfriend to roommate and boy I tolerate.”

“Kuroo, since I’ve been demoted to roommate, that reminds me. No, you can’t steal my roommate from me. When they’re gone for too long the apartment is eerie and cold.” You slightly pull back from your hands to face Kenma, “Ok Ken from now on, Kuroo will come to our apartment instead of me going to his, so now we’ll both be there.” Kenma nods feeling a bit better that you won’t be going missing from the apartment for so long. “Do I have any say in this?” Kuroo questions before you shake your head jokingly and begin to pet his head. Kuroo deflates knowing he was never going to win in an argument between his two biggest weaknesses, you and Kenma. “So you’re telling me every time you stayed at Alisa’s you were really at Kuroo’s?” Kenma's face scrunches in disgust. “Don’t think like that Ken, gross!” Kuroo, offended, places a hand on his chest. “Plus Ken, we were just going on date’s and having movie night. Nothing like that!”, you shake your hands while Kuroo smirks. “Yeah Kenma, most we did was make out.”, you smack Kuroo’s chest while Kenma makes a bleh noise.

“Well, I’m going to head back to the apartment. Are you guys coming over too?” Kenma looks at the both of you. “Yeah, well I have to grab a bag to stay the night but we’ll meet you there!” Kuroo gets up to go pack for the night ahead while you get up to go bid him farewell. As soon as you reach for the door Kenma stops you, “I’ve never seen Kuroo look at anyone the way he looks at you, you deserve each other.” Kenma closes the door while you stood starstruck, in awe that someone who’s known Kuroo for so long would say that he’s seeing something he’s never seen before. Just as you’re stuck in thought Kuroo comes up from behind you, “You ready baby?” You turn around grabbing Kuroo and pulling him into a deep kiss.

Kuroo pulls back, “Well I was only gone for a couple of minutes but hello to you too, I guess.” Kuroo smirks as you send him a wide smile, “I love you Tetsu, I love you so much.”. Kuroo pulls back shocked that you said you loved him first, stuttering he finds himself speechless at your bold actions. “Close your mouth Tetsu, now let’s go before Kenma leaves us.”, you start taking off but feel a strong tug pulling you back. “I love you too bunny. Now let’s go.” Kuroo pecks your lips sweetly making sure to get the last word just to tease you, that is how he shows his affection after all. Both of you leaving towards your apartment feeling better than when you arrived, you loved Kuroo and that will never have to be kept a secret ever again.

divider credit to @/vase-of-lilies, @/bunnysrph, and @/thecutestgrotto

@m3l0nfl0at on tumblr. All Rights Reserved. Do not steal, copy, or translate any of my works.

[lubrumalis]

konig headcanons! (realistic)

tw: nsfw

all of these are realistic hc! dont expect a normal konig

hes NOT a shy awkward pushover, just because he has social anxiety??? we can see through his voice lines hes a very cocky person and speaks rather agressively

“lets be honest, its better off in my hands.”

i hc that just because konig has social anxiety, he doesn’t express this through bring soft and shy, he expresses it through his bluntness

konig wanted to be a sniper but did not because he couldn’t stand still, has social anxiety, i hc he has some form of adhd

his very cocky and blunt shouting isn’t because hes mean, but he just doesnt wanna be seen as that bullied kid he once was

hes doesnt have horrible EQ, but the kind of guy to be incredibly unfiltered

also, this guy was literally assigned as a human battering ram, you think hes all soft and sweet???😅😅😅

no he won’t get angry or cry if his mask is taken off. just annoyed.

its not actually canon that konig is a colonel (correct me if im wrong, i couldnt find anything on the official wiki) but lets assume hes one anyway

even if he isnt, gets paid well. really well.

private military companies that deploy soldiers in areas of active conflict can pay up to hundreds of thousands for one soldier

considering konigs age (late 30s at least) and skills, probably 400-500k a year.

chose to join the military because he had an obsession with tanks and guns as a kid

a lot of hc’s say hes 6’10. i disagree, simply based off of chances and the fact thats wayyyy too tall for the military

but he was described as a mountain, so id say his height is around 6’5-6’8

very very intimidating. hes tall big and has the mask of an executioner in the 15th century. who wouldn’t be scared?

definitely will say some random german word in a situation where no one else there knows german. he doesn’t give a damn lol

hates americans (thinks theyre all obese, mannerless, and bad at geography)

brings up the most random topics. again i really think konig has adhd.

konig was not good at school and hated it, mainly due to the anxiety and how he couldn’t pay attention

also why he chose the path of a soldier

drinks lots of beer, high alcohol tolerance, this guys a true european.

loves austrian or german food. loves schnitzel and pies.

konigs breakfast is literally sausages, toast, eggs, and sometimes beer

BIG APPETITE. he could eat for 3 people.

a little insecure about his appearance, not confident in his looks :( also why he hid his face

but as he grew older he uses the mask for actual purposes of concealing his identity, he is a special ops soldier after all

kind of a cheapskate. he chose to hide his face with what, polyester? chose a piece of cloth over everything else.

has very conservative beliefs. not to the point where he hates abortion and votes far right, konig is just a little confused about some things certain liberals believe in

pretty political person lmao

not enough info to conclude whether or not konig was abused as a kid tbh

he was definitely miserable for a period in his life. hes in the military living a monotone life, barely any contact with others, and constantly living in fear he’d die

i dont think hes as traumatized as ghost tho🙂🙂

konig appreciates his dna and how it makes him big and tall, but sometimes gets incredibly annoyed at it

mainly because well, he got bullied for itas a kid

because he specializes in hostage rescue a lot of hostages (especially kids) are scared of him and refuse to leave the area with him

takes a lot of convincing 🥲🥲

has a lot of intrusive thoughts

cannot use social media properly

also texts like an old grandpa. uses 😂 and 🤣 unironically.

“Can we have burgers 🍔 tonight🌃?”

probably uses a blackberry or reallyyyyy old iphone

relationship hcs:

konigs voice actor (jim boeven) stated in a livestream that konigs wife would ideally be a mix between maria pedraza (actress) and rachael from blade runner (character from movie).

both are 170cm ish and brunettes

i can actually see that—konig is massive and he probably prefers someone on the tall side

first thing you did that led to your relationship with him? you tolerated him that is. listened to him ranting😃

i can see him with a civilian or someone whos in the military tbh

finds you pretty at first

enjoys bickering, he needs someone to simulate his mind

you know those stories where his s/o is 5’2, clingy, soft af, and neeeeeeeds konig? haha you won’t be getting that from me.

unlike ghost, who really takes his time to get to know someone and opens up slowly, scared to have his trust broken again

konig charges in like the human battering ram he is😁

if he has a feeling you’re trustworthy you are trustworthy.

horrible at flirting. he doesn’t know how to talk to women smoothly

needs someone equally as weird and funny

s/o needs to be someone with very firm boundaries and can stand their ground, i think konigs a really stubborn person, so for a healthy relationship to work, s/o can’t be the generic bimbo

konig wears the pants in the relationship

doesn’t let you pay. he has a enough money and believes men should always pay

(im sorry to break your delusions) konig does not strike to me as someone who likes a docile homebody. thats ghost (if you remove the word docile).

he doesn’t like extremely dominant partners either

imagine someone who is a listener, accepting yet blunt, shares his quirks, and has a very elegant feel to them

also someone very independent

also gonna get killed for this but konig would realistically not go for a girl in her early twenties. he prefers elegance and sophistication over being cute and jumpy

hates one night stands.

values relationships more than you think. he can come off as strong at first, but hes trying his best

ecstatic when you tell him you wanna learn german (hes not a good teacher)

doesn’t like play fighting, he thinks he’s gonna accidentally hurt you

admires you a lot. he knows hes not the best looking person and doesn’t understand the makeup skincare dress up thing.

isn’t paranoid, but definitely doesn’t say he has an s/o

if you ever get mad at him, konig will tighten all jars in the kitchen so you have to ask him for help :)

extremely unfiltered. he hates your cooking? he will say it. that dress looks better than the other? he will say it.

[amymbona]

Patrick Zweig being very very much insecure about his nose and ears :( poor boy was bullied during his early teenage years, called Dumbo by the guys around him - normal looking guys with normal size ears and noses - and it has seriously messed up his confidence.

He doesn't want you to pay much attention to these, scrunching his face uncomfortably when you're pecking his face in a mission to kiss every single one of his coffee freckles. His lips twist into a frown when you get to the tip of his nose, nudging your own against it, and he's instantly pushing you away or offering you a cheek to kiss him on instead.

Every time he gets a haircut, he spend the next twenty minutes crying in the bathroom and staring at his own reflection. Dumbo, Dumbo, Dumbo, he repeats, looking at his stupid big ears. He's sure you're gonna laugh, tell him that he looks stupid, so he opts for going straight to bed and burying his nose in the pillows.

You have to literally crawl all over him to get his attention, laying your body on his, and only when you bite onto his earlobe and tug on it gently to earn his attention, he whines a soft stop.

"What's wrong, baby?" you coo, getting yourself comfy on his back, your weight providing a comfortable compression.

Patrick sighs and shakes his head, lazily laying a palm over his ear as if he was holding a phone to call somebody, attempting to cover what's literally in front of your eyes. He doesn't want you to look. "Just stop."

It takes you long frustrating minutes to pry the words out of his mouth, and you have to tickle and kiss and bite him so he stops making such a fuss. But then you see the tears shine in his eyes, and realise it's serious. That he's really insecure about something as cute as his ears. Dumbo.

"Babyyy," you coo, now straddling his hips, "Why would you even think that? You have normal ears."

"I don't. They're weird. And big," he protests, glancing off to the side.

And you know damn well they're not weird or big. Yes, they are not tiny, but that doesn't make them ugly. On the contrary, you think his ears are adorable, and their size only makes Patrick look more boyish and youthful in your eyes. That's nothing to be sad about.

"You're so stupid, you know that?" you mumble affectionately and lean in to press a kiss to the crook a his neck, a spot where you know it tickles.

A small, annoyed giggle slips past Patrick's lips and he squirms under you, atteempting to push you away. Stop, stop, stop.

"Stupid," you repeat, trailing kisses up his neck and below his ear before you take the earlobe between your lips again and tug. He giggles again, cutely and bashfully. "But cute. You're so cute."

Patrick is still trying to squirm away, to gently push you off, but it's very much evident that he's blushing like a school girl. "Don't do that," he mutter in embarrassment, suddenly feeling like he's about to melt under you. It's stupid.

As if that could get you to stop. You continue kissing him, all over the sides of his face, his neck, his jaw and mainly his ears, dedicating all the love just to them. In your eyes, his ears are utterly fucking adorable. And he's your adorable boyfriend, your Dumbo.

Based on a little convo @diyaspectrum and me had about his cute ears :(