#so now seeing that he’s Changed so drastically— that he’s ‘become’ one of The Man that he used to be more rebellious and wild

[enderspawn]

also i must add that it is CRITICAL to my enjoyment of rolan that he fucking hates the idea of going to therapy and calls them all ‘shrinks’. it makes him a fun extra flavor of fucked up you cant remove it

[ja3yun]

Melting Point | P.SH | CH.5

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: fluff, angst, confrontation, minhee lovers i am so sorry, no smut this chapter, injury, anything else lmk ch.5 synopsis: life is good for you and sunghoon after you become official, yet, things take a drastic turn very quickly, and you're stuck between love and loyalty. wc: 12k previous | masterlist | next a/n: hi! so this is where the shit gets real icl. i loved writing this chapter honestly, it holds a place in my heart but tbh, the whole series does. not many warnings or whatever and i don't want to spoil anything here so...enjoy! likes, reblogs, feeback are all welcome as always <3 thank you so much for the support, ilyasm.

As you flip through the pages of your Successful Event Management book, your attention wavers, consumed by thoughts of your boyfriend. Despite your efforts, the words on the pages seem to blur together as your mind dances with images of him. Each time the realisation hits that he's officially yours, you find yourself involuntarily twirling a strand of your hair, unable to contain your giggles or the playful kicks of your feet. It's almost unsettling how deeply he occupies your thoughts, and now that you can call him your man, it's as if the intensity has multiplied tenfold.

Over the past week, Sunghoon has been immersed in training, preparing for Nationals, leaving little time for your usual moments together. But you understand, what with Nationals coming up, he has to be prepared for it. Your understanding doesn’t mean you don’t miss him any less though. This time apart has been the longest you’ve gone without seeing him in the past 4 months and it feels agonisingly long.

It’s just past October and you probably missed him most at Halloween, wishing you could have dressed up with him and gone to Rina’s party together, but he couldn’t cancel the trip to Japan he had. If it were any other schedule, he would have blown it off but everything had already been booked, he just couldn’t get out of it.

You loved your boyfriend's willingness to drop everything for you, even if it was often unnecessary. When you told him you nearly broke your ankle while walking down Rina's stairs in 6 inch heels and a bottle of Pinot in hand, Sunghoon instantly left his training and came to check on you. You told him about the incident so you could both laugh at how stupid you are but he didn’t find anything funny, not until he saw you were okay and giggling with Rina as if nothing had happened. 

That’s one thing that’s slightly changed since becoming official, Sunghoon is way more protective of you. Truth be told, he’s always been protective, he can just showcase it more now.

You adored him in every way a person can be adored. All his flaws, all his perfections, he was all yours.

A ping from your phone pauses your idle daydreaming.

My Hoonie ♡

9:10pm: look outside

It’s ominous but you can't resist the pull to glance out the window. Swirling out of your desk chair, you're met with the unexpected sight of Sunghoon, grinning from ear to ear and waving animatedly, as if beckoning you to join him outside.

Why the fuck is he here? He normally texts you to meet him at the corner of the street so he’s out of sight of your family.

Keeping Sunghoon a secret has been surprisingly easy these days, given how rarely you saw Minhee. You sent your brother a play-by-play of what occurred at the ceremony, along with a few pictures, but he hasn't spoken to you since his brief 'Nice' text response. You tried to initiate a few conversations with him about it, asking if anything was bothering him, but he just replied he was busy with training.

He no longer takes you to train with him, but you can't put all the blame on him; you've been telling him you're too tired for weeks to accompany him; he probably just assumed you'd keep saying the same excuse.

You missed him even though he was only across the hallway.

You quickly put on the jumper Sunghoon had given you, grab your phone, and slip on your shoes as you prepare to make a discreet getaway. With your family still inside the house, you turn the front door handle with full caution, making no sound as you sneak out to meet Sunghoon.

"What are you doing here?" you whisper urgently as you greet him.

Sunghoon brings you in for a kiss while his hand cradles the back of your head, answering your question with his actions rather than his words. He missed you, that’s all there was to it. 

"Are you free?" he murmurs against your lips, his kisses lingering, "I want to take you on a date."

You pull back slightly, taken aback, "A date? Why all of a sudden?"

"I realised I haven't properly treated you to a date," Sunghoon admits, a tinge of guilt evident in his tone. The ill-timing of officially becoming a couple and his intense training schedule for Nationals made it look like he was putting in no effort now that he had you. He never intended to spend less time with you, it’s just what happened. 

You lean back to look at him sceptically, “We’ve been on plenty of dates, Hoonie.”

"Shh, just let me take you out, please?" he playfully feigns annoyance, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.

Looking back at your home, you consider the options available. On one hand, there's a mountain of tasks awaiting your attention now that the new school year has kicked off. On the other hand, there's the tempting prospect of spending time with your beloved.

Was it even a question?

"Do I need to change?" you ask, casting a critical eye over your attire: his hoodie, some well-worn leggings, and slightly battered shoes—hardly your typical date ensemble. Sunghoon inspects you, pinching your leggings to rub the fabric thoughtfully, “What are you doing?” you ask quizically, raising an eyebrow.

"Just checking the thickness," he replies, turning you around and lifting the hoodie slightly to inspect the material covering your butt. "They'll do," he declares, giving your ass a playful slap to signify the end of his examination. "I have a pair of your other leggings in my car. We could layer," he suggests with a grin.

You don’t have a clue what he’s planning but it can’t be good. 

Sunghoon interlocks his fingers with yours and walks you to his car up the end of the street. The air is growing cooler now that it's early November, so all you can do is sigh with happiness as you take your seat in his warm car. 

With the early November air turning crisp, you sink into the warmth of his car seat, unable to suppress a contented sigh. Over the past few weeks, Sunghoon has allowed you to personalize the interior of his car to your heart's content. 

It started with a simple addition—a plush teddy bear seatbelt cover to cushion the strap that always seemed to bite into you. But it quickly escalated, evolving into a display of your quirks and interests: stickers adorning the glove compartment, a bobblehead of Cinnamoroll dangling from the dashboard with a matching Tuxedosam counterpart on his side, and even a change in the air freshener scent from ocean breeze to peony and cherry blossoms. Each addition is a testament to your bond and the little ways you've woven your lives together.

His life was covered in you, and he has never been happier.

Since the award ceremony, Sunghoon's skating demeanour has noticeably lightened, shedding the weight of perfectionism now that he has your unwavering support echoing in his ears and he knows you mean it because when he glances over to you in the stands, he sees the pride in your eyes. Coach Lee has commented on it a couple of times, saying how his Nationals performance might be his best yet and to keep up the good work. With you by his side, Sunghoon finds joy in skating again, rediscovering the passion that initially drew him to the sport.

"So, where are we headed?" you inquire, fastening your seatbelt and tuning into the radio.

Sunghoon starts the car and pulls away, his hand resting reassuringly on your thigh, "You'll find out soon enough," he replies cryptically. Normally, surprises catch you off guard, leaving you feeling unprepared—an impromptu birthday party is one thing, but this unexpected adventure is an entirely different story.

He chuckles at your attempt to decipher his plans, giving your leg a playful squeeze, "Sweets, I promise I'm not leading you into a cornfield and abandoning you there. You'll enjoy it, I swear."

“A cornfield is so specific, now I don’t trust you at all”  you tease, your tone laced with mock suspicion, though there's a hint of genuine curiosity beneath it all.

As the drive progresses, a sense of familiarity settles in, and when the car pulls up at Belmore, you twist in your seat to face him. "Belmore?" you query, eyebrows raised in surprise. His only response is a knowing nod, a roguish smirk playing on his lips.

"Baby, no offence, but watching you train isn't exactly my idea of a romantic date. And if it ever did count, I think we've been on far too many dates for only being together a month," you point out with a playful yet pointed look.

Sunghoon parks the car and switches off the engine, turning to you with a grin, "So, you don't consider our friends-with-benefits phase as being together?" he counters, raising an eyebrow. "Because technically, we've been together for like four months."

"No, our 'fuck buddy era' definitely doesn't count," you retort, stepping out of the car.

"That's a shame," Sunghoon muses, a playful glint in his eyes. "I had grand plans to whisk you away for our six-month anniversary in January. I guess I'll just have to enjoy Jeju on my own," he shrugs nonchalantly, locking the car before striding towards the main building, gym bag slung over his shoulder.

You quickly fall into step with him, looping your arm in his, a gleam of merriment in your eyes. "Well, I suppose we could round it up to four months," you offer, hoping he was just joking about going himself.

You're not about to let the opportunity for a trip with your man slip through your fingers, even if he's just teasing. You've been dropping hints about wanting to hike Hallasan Mountain and go tangerine picking on Jeju Island so often that he's actually started a 'Jeju Jar' where you contribute money whenever you mention it.

Sunghoon graciously holds the door open for you, and Miss Barbara's cheerful wave as she recognises you only adds to the excitement bubbling within you.

Miss Barbara has been in on your little secret love affair since you made it official, her only bribery she requested to keep it a secret was a bag of Revels on top of her usual Toffee gift. 

"Hi, Miss Barbara," you greet her warmly as you approach the reception desk.

"Hello, Y/N, Sunghoon. How are my favorite forbidden lovers?" she exclaims with a twinkle in her eye, settling back in her chair.

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. "It's not quite as dramatic as you make it out to be, Miss Barbara," he replies with a good-natured smile, though the receptionist waves off his comment. She's fond of weaving your relationship into a romantic narrative, a tale of two star-crossed lovers defying societal norms to be together. It's a bit over the top, but it gives her something to gush over.

"We're doing well. Is anyone in there?" you inquire, grateful for Miss Barbara's discreet support. With her on your side, it's easier to gauge just how obvious your affection for each other can be. While you don't hide your love in everyday life, at the rink, you're more cautious. The last thing you need is for any of the coaches or, heaven forbid, your families to catch you in a moment of intimacy. That could set you both back to square one.

Keeping it a secret until after Nationals wasn’t just for the benefit of Minhee, but also for your own sanity. If one of your mothers found out, that would be it, you would never hear the end of it. 

“Nope, all free. Coach Kim just left and not another soul in sight.” Miss Barbara confirms.

"Thanks, Miss Barbara. This was a spur-of-the-moment thing, so we'll make sure to bring you double sweet treats tomorrow," Sunghoon promises, knowing full well she's eagerly anticipating her goodies.

"Triple and I'll let you in on a little secret," she counters, arms crossed expectantly. Sunghoon nods in agreement, intrigued, "The coaches are planning to bring you and Minhee in tomorrow for peer review and a Nationals run-through, to ensure you're both in top form for the competition in two weeks. It's a new method they want to try to strengthen your connection, especially since you're both going to be on the same Olympic team," she reveals, her tone filled with anticipation.

Your eyes widen in shock as Miss Barbara's words sink in. "Wait, Minhee and the Olympics?" you repeat, the idea sounding both fitting and surreal at the same time.

"Oh yeah, he's been putting in a ton of hours here, especially in the last three weeks. Coach Kim believes he's more than ready," she confirms with a knowing smile, leaning in conspiratorially. "But shh, it's a surprise. The coaches plan to break the news to him when he places in the top three at Nationals."

The news hits you like a wave of emotions. It's beyond perfect - your brother finally achieving his lifelong dream after years of hard work and dedication. A sense of pride and happiness swells within you, threatening to overwhelm your senses.

Suddenly, you get a strange feeling because the more you think about how excited you are for him, you realise Miss Barbara has just said he's here a lot, but you didn't know that. Although you may not have seen him recently, you should be aware that he is spending his time here. You used to know his entire schedule.

“Was my mum here with him?” you inquire, a hint of concern in your voice.

"No, he's usually by himself or with Coach Kim. Didn't he mention it to you? I was wondering why you haven't been with him like usual," Miss Barbara explains, her tone sympathetic.

Sunghoon notices the discontent written across your face, assuming it's because of the impending peer review with Minhee tomorrow morning. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he gently guides you towards the rink. "Thanks for the heads up," he acknowledges gratefully.

As he leads you into the arena, you can feel the excitement draining from your shoulders, leaving you feeling deflated. Sunghoon hates seeing you like this. He wishes he could simply pluck the negative thoughts from your mind and replace them with happiness, but all he can do is offer distraction.

"Sweets, wait here for a minute," he murmurs, planting a kiss atop your head before darting off to the back rooms to fetch some necessary tools for your impromptu date, leaving you to wonder what surprises he has in store.

A few minutes later, Sunghoon returns, his excitement palpable as he practically skips towards you, hands hidden behind his back. The mischievous glint in his eyes sends a shiver of apprehension down your spine, "Sunghoon, what's going on?" you inquire warily.

He stops in front of you, a wide grin spreading across his face. "You aren't going to watch me train," he announces, revealing a pair of pristine white ice skates and a deep blue helmet from behind his back, which he then presents to you, "I'm teaching you how to skate."

The look on your face is one of absolute shock. You have already told him how your mum had tried to get you on the ice when you were little and it wasn’t pretty, you can barely walk in the skates never mind glide on the ice. Did he forget this was the one thing you explicitly said you couldn’t and wouldn’t do?

Noticing your lack of enthusiasm, Sunghoon's arms drop to his sides, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features. "Come on, it'll be fun! I'm a great teacher," he insists, trying to persuade you. Taking the skates from his hand, you inspect them apprehensively, feeling a surge of fear at the sight of the gleaming blades.

"Look, baby," Sunghoon begins, his voice softening as he places a hand on your shoulder. "You've mentioned how you never took to the ice well, but it occurred to me today that maybe that's because your mum had all these dreams about the Kang siblings dominating the figure skating world. That's a lot of pressure for a seven-year-old. But this... this is just for fun. A simple, free lesson from South Korea's greatest skater who promises to never shout or get impatient with you," he reassures, placing a hand over his heart in a solemn pledge.

It’s true you suppose, there would be no need to feel a weight on your shoulders to be as good as Minhee or have your mum telling you how easy it was and that you just weren’t trying hard enough. 

The sparkle in Sunghoon's eyes only adds to your resolve to give this a shot. He wants to share his love for the sport with you, and you can't help but feel touched by his enthusiasm. If he's willing to keep both feet firmly on the ice, then maybe, just maybe, you can brave this adventure.

"Fine, but I'm not jumping under any circumstances," you bargain with a playful glint in your eye. The last thing you want is to end up flat on your back on the ice. If Sunghoon can promise to keep you grounded, then you'll give it a try.

Sunghoon’s face radiates with glee once you accept his date idea, which is good for him because he doesn’t have a backup. He sits you down on the bench and helps you put on the skates, fastening them tightly. He goes over the warnings every skater gets about new skates, and how they need to be broken in so they might nip at the skin. He’s already tried to stretch them out for you by making Wonyoung wear them for a little while when she warmed up. 

Once both of your skates are securely laced up, Sunghoon swiftly puts on his own, his familiarity with them evident in his speed. He's had these skates for a year now, and they've never failed him.

"Put your helmet on, babe," he instructs, handing it to you. You look at it with disdain, but he catches your expression and intervenes, "I get that it's not glamorous, but the last thing I need is for you to smash your head open," he reasons, gently placing the helmet on your head and fastening it securely.

"I don't want to fall in the first place!" you protest.

"I will always catch you, I promise," Sunghoon reassures you, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of your helmet, as if it were your head. He offers a gentle smile, "Plus, the rink just got Zambonied, and they'll be peeved if you dirty up the nice ice with your blood."

"Sunghoon!" you exclaim, a mix of exasperation and affection in your tone.

______

Seventy minutes into the lesson, and you've only stumbled twice. The first time was when you initially stepped onto the ice, resembling one of those cartoon skits where the character can't find their footing and begins flailing everywhere. The second stumble occurred when you attempted to march in place, a simple task that somehow became a challenge on ice. Despite Sunghoon's assurances that you couldn't fall, you seem determined to prove him wrong, even in moments like these.

Nonetheless, you have made progress. Sunghoon has painstakingly taught you how to forward glide and perform a snowplough stop, which seemed impossible given your previous difficulties on the ice. Granted, he's been hovering only centimetres behind you the entire time, waiting to catch you if you fall, but progress is progress.

Now, he's introducing you to forward swizzles, a manoeuvre with a deceptively cute name that you're convinced spells disaster for you. With Sunghoon's reassuring grip on your arm, he explains the technique. "You're just going to do a forward glide and then kind of push your feet outward and then bring them back in a circular motion. Like this," he demonstrates, making it look effortless.

Of course, he makes it look like it’s the easiest thing in the whole world, like using a knife and fork, but he's dealing with a girl who can't even distinguish her left from her right or drive a go-kart without crashing it. This venture into forward swizzles feels like a daunting challenge, but with Sunghoon by your side, you're determined to give it your best shot.

Sunghoon skates to face you, taking both of your hands as you attempt to master the forward swizzles. For the most part, you're actually not too bad at it. But as confidence starts to swell within you, you let go of his hands, only to teeter dangerously on the edge of a fall once more.

True to his word, Sunghoon is there to catch you, his grip firm and reassuring.

Determined to get it right, you take a deep breath, calming your racing heart, and try again. Sunghoon can't help but admire you in this moment. Most people would have thrown in the towel by now, but he knows you're doing this not just for yourself, but for him too. It's a realisation that fills him with a profound sense of affection as he watches you concentrate intently, your tongue sticking out in concentration as you execute a few more forward swizzles with his assistance.

"That's it! My girl is so good at this," he praises, but you shoot him a pointed look. It's not angry; it's more of a silent plea for him to refrain from speaking and distracting you while you're focused. Understanding the cue, Sunghoon promptly stops talking, allowing you to concentrate.

As you cheer and sway joyfully, a surge of euphoria washes over you, you're briefly swept up in the exhilaration of your performance. But the laws of physics are unwavering, and the slippery ice beneath your skates is unforgiving. Without warning you lose your footing and collapse hard onto the ice, your head creating an unnerving thud as it hits the icy surface. Maybe the helmet was a good idea.

"Shit, Y/N!" Sunghoon's voice rings out in panic as he rushes over to you, his expression etched with concern. He kneels beside you, quickly assessing your condition and helping you sit up. Despite the impact, all you can do is laugh. What was once a terrifying prospect - falling on the ice - is now a source of amusement.

"I'm okay," you assure him between fits of laughter, patting the helmet atop your head. "Thank god for this piece of shit helmet, that's all I'm saying." But Sunghoon's expression remains tense, his worry evident, "It's okay, baby, I promise I'm fine. Let's take five, hmm?" you suggest, reaching out to stroke his cheek in a comforting gesture.

Sunghoon nods silently, sitting beside you on the cold ice, both of you ignoring the chill seeping through your clothes. He removes his gloves and places them on your hands, a small but tender gesture that sends a flutter of warmth through your stomach, despite the icy surroundings.

"You're actually pretty good at this, Sweets," Sunghoon compliments, taking your helmet off.

But you brush aside his comment, a question that's been nagging at you for a while now finally bubbling to the surface. "I have a question," you begin, ignoring his compliment. "Why do you call me Sweets? Like, you've called me that since you started skating here."

Sunghoon's face flushes with a deep red blush as he gazes up at the rafters, gathering his thoughts. "I've been calling you that for a lot longer than that," he confesses quietly.

"What do you mean?" you press further, turning your body to face him, curiosity piqued. For all the time you've spent together, you've never questioned the origin of the endearing nickname.

He exhales softly, a nostalgic grin spreading across his face as he begins to reminisce. "Do you remember when you were 14, and you confessed to me with a packet of sweets and a makeshift card?" The memory floods back to you, each detail vivid and clear. "You came up to me at one of the Youth competitions and gave them to me - a packet of Love Hearts, I think.” You want to protest but the more he speaks about it, the more the memory comes back to you.

Back then, you had mustered up all your courage to ask him out after years of secretly admiring him. You knew it was a long shot, considering Sunghoon was the most sought-after skater in the Junior division, but you took the chance anyway. You had even dressed up in your best outfit and attempted makeup—a slick of lip gloss from a teen magazine and a touch of mascara you'd pilfered from your mom's makeup bag.

"You knocked me back!" you exclaim, feeling a surge of offense, "I poured my heart and soul into that card, and you didn't even spare it a glance. I remember now!"

Sunghoon shakes his head defensively, "I did look at it! And I ate the sweets too," he tries to argue back, but the realization only seems to deepen your offense, "Wait, no! I know I said no, but... I had my reasons, okay?"

"Oh yeah, what?" you challenge, shaking your head sassily, eager to hear his explanation.

"I... It doesn't matter, does it? Look who won?" Sunghoon smoothly redirects the conversation back to the present day, "You've got me whipped for you."

You raise an eyebrow, conceding that he does have a point. He is your boyfriend now, albeit five years later than you originally wanted—or eleven years, if you count all the time you spent pining over him as a kid.

"Exactly," you agree, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "If you told fourteen-year-old Y/N Kang that Park Sunghoon would be desperately in love with her now, I think she'd pass out." 

Silence.

Deafening silence.

Sunghoon stares down at his skates, eyes wide and mouth dry. The weight of his confession hangs heavy in the air, catching both of you off guard. He hadn't anticipated the words to spill out so spontaneously, and he's never felt more vulnerable in his life.

Park Sunghoon loves you. He is in love with you.

The arena seemed to vibrate with the weight of his confession, wrapping you both in startled stillness. You can't comprehend it - Sunghoon didn't just say he loved you; he confessed to being desperately in love with you. The enormity of his admission takes your breath away, bringing back memories of your 14-year-old self, who would have had no idea how to deal with such a discovery. Even at 19, the reality of his love has you spinning.

"You love me?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, unable to tear your gaze away from the ice beneath your feet. The words hang in the air, heavy with disbelief and wonder.

Finally, Sunghoon meets your gaze, his own expression a mixture of apprehension and hope. Seeing the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of your lips eases some of the tension in his chest. He had thought his love for you was obvious, but he had never found the courage to say it out loud before.

"I do," he affirms, his voice soft but unwavering.

“How long?” you inquire, stealing a glance at him.

Sunghoon chuckles softly, a playful gleam in his eyes as he picks up the helmet and spins it in his hands. “Ah, I can’t tell you that,” he teases, “If I do, you’ll never get your head back in this.” His laughter lightens the mood, but you're not satisfied with his evasive response.

Snatching the helmet from him, you firmly place it back on your head. “See, now you can tell me. It still fits, and there's even a little room,” you declare, shaking your head to demonstrate how loose it is.

Sunghoon reaches over to fasten the helmet again, his laughter mixing with yours. His fingers linger on the strap, tracing it until he reaches your chin, gently tilting your head to meet his gaze. “It's been a long time,” he admits, his voice soft but earnest. The more animated your expression becomes, the more the doubt that lingered in his mind fades away.

You don't hesitate to seize the moment, pouncing on him and knocking him back onto the ice. Your chest presses against his as you pin him down, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss that steals the air from his lungs. Both of you are grinning like fools, reveling in the warmth and intimacy of the moment.

But there's still one final piece missing from this perfect moment.

“I love you, too, Sunghoon,” you whisper into his mouth, your words laden with sincerity. You hope he can feel the depth of your feelings, knowing that you're not just saying it out of obligation but because you truly mean it.

“It was me, by the way,” he admits sheepishly, catching your curious gaze. You silently prompt him to continue, which he happily does “The sweets my dad gave you all the time? I asked him to give them to you. You looked so miserable one day that I gave up the packet of Haribos my dad would sneak me. After I saw your face light up, I told him to just keep giving them to you instead.”

Your heart feels like it could burst with joy. Why hadn’t he told you this before when you brought it up at the cafe? “Why did you do that?” you inquire, searching for an explanation.

Sunghoon just shrugs, playing it off, kissing you on your nose to distract you from asking any more questions he wouldn’t be able to answer. 

You look at each other and exchange sweet, short kisses on each other's lips. The moment is filled with innocence, and pure love surrounds you. But as the rink's ice starts to seep into your bodies, you both realise that, while the kisses and giggles warm you up, the frostbite on Sunghoon's ass is getting a little too much.

He stands, offering you a hand up, which you gladly accept, trying not to wobble. His lips find yours again within seconds, whispering ‘I love you’ over and over like it's a sacred mantra. Even as he picks you up and spins you around, the words never falter.

Your feet dangle in the air, suspended and untethered, a sensation that terrifies you but this whole situation is. Being in love with someone as deeply as you are with Sunghoon, anyone would find it a little scary - that’s even taking out the impending conversation you’ll need to have with Minhee. You can’t believe someone like Sunghoon is even in love with you a little bit. You counted your blessings every day that he even bothered to spend time with you or ask you to be his girlfriend, this was just surreal.

“We should go, yeah? Especially if I have to show up your brother tomorrow,” he suggests, setting you down gently.

“Sunghoon, be nice to him tomorrow, yeah? Don’t provoke him. This is important for him,” you plead with him, your voice laced with concern. All you want is for Minhee to come out of tomorrow's session feeling confident and ready. If your boyfriend starts to poke fun at him, it'll only serve to undermine Minhee's focus and now that he has a chance to go to the Olympics, he needs to feel confident, not taunted.

Sunghoon follows you as you carefully skate off the rink, back to the security of the grated mats outside. “I’m going to give him the critique he needs, brutal or not,” he says, his tone tinged with frustration. Sitting on the bench, he begins to remove his skates. He knows you don’t mean it to sound this way, but your phrasing made it seem like tomorrow wasn’t as significant for him. A whole run-through of his routine in front of everyone to determine if he's ready for Nationals? That's just as crucial for him as it is for your brother.

Ridding yourself of the devil skates you massage your feet. You have a greater respect for anyone that has to wear them for more than an hour, “And that’s fine, but don’t be a dick about it. This could be our chance to sway his opinion of you and make telling him about us easier.”

“Well, are you going to tell him the same thing? Because he isn’t exactly friendly towards me either,” Sunghoon counters. He can't argue with your logic; building a bridge with your brother would make things easier for you both. However, he isn’t willing to let Minhee berate him without standing up for himself.

You sigh, feeling deflated by the conversation already, wondering why you even brought it up. “Sunghoon, please just be the bigger man here, for me. Can you do that?” you ask, your voice pleading.

Putting his blade guards back on with a forceful gesture, he lets out an exasperated groan. “No. I will do anything for you, Sweets, but I draw the line at letting him walk over me,” he asserts firmly.

“I’m not asking you to do that,” you insist, gently pulling his face to meet yours. “If he’s rude to you, you can defend yourself, but just don’t take it too far or say anything unnecessary, especially about his skating.” The tone in your voice, combined with your touch, begins to soften the tension in his body. He grudges how much of an effect on him, “Please? Because you love me?”

He sticks his tongue into the side of his mouth and swipes it along his inner lip, “Wow, are we playing that card now?” You nod, and a satisfied smile sits smugly on your face. It was a low blow, you know that, but when push comes to shove. Inhaling deeply he agrees reluctantly, “Fine, I will be nice to him. But it’s in no way is it for his benefit, I’m doing it for us.”

You’ll take it. It’s a start and every reconciliation has to start somewhere, “Thank you, baby.” You press a smooch to his cheek and stand up, locating your shoes and putting them on.

Glancing at your phone, you notice it's past 11pm and there are a couple of messages from your mom. She's letting you know that you can't stay at Rina's tonight because Coach has requested Minhee's presence tomorrow morning, and she wants you to be there too. And you want to be there, because right now you feel a little like a shit sibling missing out on his training when it used to be the one activity you looked forward to together. 

And he’s been all alone the whole time. What was going on with your mum these days? She would rather die than miss a Minhee schedule, even if it were just practice. 

Sunghoon hugs you from behind, reading your messages, “Don’t tell me the witch is cock blocking me?” 

That’s the other thing about him being your boyfriend, you’ve started to open up to him a lot more about your relationship with your mum and how thin the bond is. You told him about her moving you out of your old room to make way for Minhee’s trophies, how she made you skip Rina’s birthday to attend a dinner with a potential sponsor when you didn’t even have to be there, and so many other unfortunate occasions.

Sunghoon was seething each time you spoke about her because you’re her daughter, you’re meant to be the joy of her life and it sounds like you’re just an inconvenience. Truthfully, you hadn’t paid much mind to it before you said all your woes with her out loud, but Sunghoon doesn’t see it as casually as you do. 

“Guess tomorrow morning is officially happening then,” You say, messaging back a quick ‘okay’ to your mum, “I’m sorry, Hoonie, I can’t come back to yours,” You rest the back of your head on his shoulder as his grip gets tighter around you.

“Sweets, it’s okay. I just wish I got to fuck you good after I proclaimed my undying love for you finally,” he kisses down your neck, “Guess I’ll just need to take you home after I wipe the floor clean of your brother.” 

Angrily, you turn around, “Any more of that and you’ll not only not be able to fuck me, you’ll also be single.” You’re not messing about and Sunghoon knows it.

“Sorry,” He winces, rubbing your arms, “Force of habit. I promise tomorrow I will be on my absolute best behaviour!” he kisses you but you don’t kiss him back, still trying to keep your annoyed demeanour. “Aw, c’mon, baby, don’t be like that! I promise skaters honour and all that.”

“You better be, Hoonie,” you warn him, finally giving in and kissing him back once, just to let him think he can’t get away with it that easily, even if he can. 

As you walk out of the arena, he follows you, stooping down to whisper, "You're kinda sexy when you're mad like that." You know he's only half-joking, so you don't play into it because if you do, he'll make you angry more often since he knows you aren't able to stay angry. Instead, you say your goodnights to Miss Barbara and make your way to his car.

He’s a piece of work, but you wouldn’t have him any other way. You love him exactly how he is.

_____________________

Applying the last finishing touches of your makeup, you check yourself out. Today was a big day, so yes it’s a little extreme to get dolled up at 5am on a Wednesday, but you’re seeing Minhee and Sunghoon skate their Nationals routines in full today, so what’s not to be excited about?

If anyone had told you that today you would feel no nervousness about the both of them being so close to one another, you would have told them to pull the next joke out of their ass. There was no way that could happen but it is and Sunghoon promised to try and be civil with your brother. So now all your worries are on them and their skates. 

You’ve seen Sunghoon’s routine countless times, so you know what to expect, but Minhee was a whole different story. It still irks your heart that you haven’t seen your brother train, you feel awful, truly. You just need to cheer for him extra loud today.

You grab your tote bag, which has some extra panties since you're spending the night with your sweetheart, and head out of your room. His roommates have joked that you’re moving in since you’ve left so much stuff at his place including a toothbrush, clothes, shampoo and conditioner, and even a spare book to read if you wake up before him in the morning. Not like you meant to, just over time it happened.

As you reach the bottom of the stairs, you hear Minhee and your mum whispering about something, but it’s hard to make out the conversation. Carefully tiptoeing towards the kitchen, you hold your breath, trying not to make a noise. They don’t normally whisper, especially not at this hour, so whatever they're discussing must be important.

“I can handle it, Mum, I told you,” Minhee's voice is heavy with sadness. Has he always sounded this despondent, or are you just overthinking?

“Good. I've invested too much for you to Cave now. When we get there, you know what you need to do, right?” What is Minhee supposed to do? Cave doing what? What does he have to do? Skate?

There are so many questions that need answers just by this snippet of conversation. You press your back to the wall of the hallway to make sure you stay hidden, hoping for any sort of clarity.

“Mum, I said I got it.” he snaps back and leaves it there, packing his bag, “Did you let Y/N know about today?”

“About the run-through? Yes, I told her.” your mum pours herself a coffee into her reusable cup.

Minhee rubs his eyes, clearly exhausted. Now that you’re getting a good glimpse of him after a few weeks, he looks a lot thinner and the circles under his eyes are a deeper shade than normal, “I told you not to tell her, she doesn’t need to be a part of this,” he zips his bag and slings it over his shoulder.

Does he not want me to be there for his skates anymore? Is that why he hasn’t invited me?

You can’t make head or tail of the conversation or what they mean, but the last thing you want is for Minhee to shut you out. 

“Oh, Y/N there you are,” your mum spots you, foiling your plan to eavesdrop.

At the sound of your name, Minhee tenses, pausing in his tracks for a beat. He was acting so strange, it made you hurt for him. Your brother was so lively and now he looks like a shell of himself. 

Putting on a cheerful facade to conceal your concern, you approach Minhee and casually swipe half of the banana from his hand, as you would normally do. If he were his usual self, Minhee would protest loudly, demanding you to get your own fruit. But instead, he simply hands you the rest without a word.

“Both of you hurry up, we need to go,” your mum whooshes past you both and heads for the front door, leaving you and Minhee on your own.

“Hey, are you okay?” you ask, quiet as a kitten. 

Minhee nods his head once and brushes by you, not even glancing at you. The relationship you have with him is now feeling like you’re strangers. You don’t know what spurred this change on but you have a high suspicion it’s because of you.

Obviously, you don’t want it to be, but you haven’t really spent time with him recently or supported him the way you should have. He probably feels neglected, something you never want him to feel.

Taking hold of his wrist you stop him before he exits for the car, “Mini, I’m sorry for not being at your training sessions. Miss Barbara said that you’ve been going to the rink a lot, I should have made it to at least one of those.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. I don’t need you there.” 

That hurt. A lot. 

He finally glances down at you and sees your eyes flash with hurt, “I’ve been going spontaneously, you’ve been busy with school and…Rina. Our schedules don’t fit anymore,”  he plays it off but you’re his sister and you know he’s hiding something deeper in his nonchalant words.

Pulling his wrist from your grip, Minhee goes to the car, leaving you a lot more concerned for him than before.

As your mum pulls up to Belmore you see Sunghoon’s car already here. He must be getting in the practice he missed last night because of your date. You would feel guilty about it if it wasn’t his idea.

When the engine stops, there is a weird tension in the air as everyone has gone into covert mode. You want to break the silence but you can’t fathom what to say right now. 

"Minhee, I'm feeling good about today, do well," your mother says. Despite her words of positivity, her expression portrays a different mindset, as if she is just saying what she knows she should.

Placing your hand on his shoulder, you grin at him, "Do your best, Mini, that's all anyone can ask," He smiles back at you, acknowledging your words. What's strange is that he takes your hand and squeezes it, his eyes fixed on yours. Sibling communication is turned on; you just can't understand what he's saying to you.

Walking into the arena is a completely different vibe from last night, no peace to be found. The coaches are happily chatting about their prodigies; it’s nice to see them getting along considering they were also pushed together through this blending of rinks. You wished the same for Minhee and Sunghoon.

Speaking of Sunghoon, he isn’t anywhere to be seen, he’s not on the ice like you thought he would be. 

“Minhee, go get changed, me and your sister will be over there,” your mum points to the same two seats you’ve both occupied for over a decade, “Don’t fuck it up, I’m serious.”

How can she be so harsh? 

Minhee simply waves you both off, shoulders slumped. While you watch him retreat to the changing room, you scowl at your mum, a toxic taste in your mouth at how rude she is being. At the end of the day, Minhee was always her favourite child, and now she can’t even be bothered with him.

Deciding he can’t go out with those being the last words he hears, you excuse yourself and walk in the same direction. You say your hellos to the usual staff as you go into the back hallway, scouting the place for your brother.

Without warning, you’re being pulled back and pinned to the wall. You almost scream until you feel those perfect lips that belong to your boyfriend, smushed against yours. 

Perplexed by his actions, you look around to see if anyone saw you. Fortunately, you were hidden enough, “Hoonie! What are you doing?” 

“I needed a good luck kiss, that’s all,” he smirks, “What do you think?” he draws back and shows you the outfit he was planning to wear at Nationals and your natural reaction is to gasp.

The royal blue silk shirt was basic, but you knew it would spring to life once he got on the ice, and his black slim trousers had crystals embroidered down the side as well as all around the bottom, the gems a mix of white and three shades of blue. He really fits the description of Ice Prince.

Spinning around on his tippy toes, he awaits your response. He felt good in it like he was one hundred percent ready.

“You look like you belong in a museum,” Gawking at him, you cover your mouth, you haven’t seen him look so handsome in any skating costume before, “Why are you wearing it just now?” 

He shrugs, “Coach thought it would be good to see how it holds up since I went with a new designer,” he smiles, rubbing up and down his torso. The material feels so good, he’s grown a habit of touching it whenever he can, “I’ll need to thank Karina when I’m done.”

“Huh? Why?” 

“You’re looking at a Yu Jimin original, I’ve been told she’s going to be famous.” Sunghoon grins at your surprised face.

Your best friend made this outfit? Her talents never failed to amaze you but she had never let anyone wear the clothes she made, not even you unless she was sampling. How on earth did he pull this off? 

Inspecting the costume more carefully, you see Rina’s signature stitching aka the first one she learnt and stuck with because she can ‘always make it work’ and to be fair, she does. It really was hers and your boyfriend was wearing it. 

But she would never do it out of the kindness of her own heart, “How much did she charge?” you ask worried, Rina could easily have bumped up the price since it was Sunghoon, milking him of the money she knew he had.

“Not a penny,” He stands proudly, but you know him, and you know your best friend, so you give him a dubious look, “Well, it didn’t cost money, I gave her a matching Tiffany ring and bracelet set.” He throws the sentence out as if the jewellery didn’t cost 4 times the wages you got this month.

“Hoonie, What the fuck?” 

"Nah, I got these for free a while back. I was planning to gift you them for your birthday." Wearing a playful smile, you tilt your head back as you absorb the unexpected information of your given-away gifts. Sunghoon instantly becomes aware of what he's just confessed. "Then I realised you're worth more than free jewellery and I swear when I gave her them, it was in the most 'I don't love you, this is just to get on Y/N's good side by winning you over' kinda way." 

Sunghoon bats his long eyelashes after he stumbles over his words, nervous you might get the wrong idea. You didn’t though, you know he’s only got eyes for you. 

It does make you laugh and think about how lucky you are, “Thank you for trying to get along with her,” you leave out the jib about it being your supposed gift because you can see how hard he is trying. 

Sunghoon wants to be a part of your life, that much is evident, and he’ll do anything he can to integrate himself peacefully, cautious to not disrupt too much. Rina was an easy win because as soon as she saw the trademark Tiffany Blue boxes she was on his side. Plus, the chance to have her first-ever design worn on a televised competition wasn’t really an opportunity she could pass up.

“I just need to win over Minhee now,” he says, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and drawing you closer. But as you remain unresponsive, lost in thought, his concern grows. "Sweets? What's wrong?"

Your mind is consumed by the events of the morning with Minhee. It gnaws at you - his lack of confidence and timid nature seems perplexing, especially given Miss Barbara's assurance that he's practically a shoo-in for the Olympic team. If there ever was a time for Minhee to exude self-assurance, it's now.

Sunghoon shakes you a little, bringing you back, “Sorry, baby, I need to see Minhee.”

“Is everything okay?” Concern is painted on his face but you can’t let him worry over something that doesn’t involve him.

“It’s fine. Good luck out there,” you pull him for an unintentionally long kiss. He melts against you, using his arms to bring you into him, hoping his touch will give you some sort of comfort. Even if you don’t tell him right now, he knows when you’re ready, you’ll let him in on what has you this way.

Stepping out of the hiding spot, you briskly walk to the changing room to find your brother. You don’t want to cast a shadow over his day, not when this performance meant so much for him, but the anxiety and concerns embedded in your body need to be aired. You need to know what’s going on.

As you approach the room, Minhee is just walking out, head hung low. 

He quickly spots you and his eyes stretch wide, “What are you doing here?” he looks around urgently before looking back at you. 

“I just wanted to talk to you. Mum was way out of line back there and I needed you to know I’m proud of you, no matter what happens. You’ve worked so hard and I know how much this skate means considering it’s basically your ticket to the Olympics, and that’s always-”

Minhee interrupts you, “Wait, pause, what do you mean Olympics?” 

Shit. You had to tell him now, you couldn’t backtrack such a monumental piece of information.

“Miss Barbara told me that Coach Kim said you’re ready for it, and if you pass this and make it to Nationals, you’ll be offered a place on the South Korean Olympic team.” You blurt it all out at once and the smile on Minhee’s face grows bigger and bigger with each word.

“You’re not fucking with me, are you?” he asks, his tone in disbelief.

Shaking your head, you mirror his vibrant smile, “No, you’re a shoo-in!” 

Suddenly, Minhee picks you up and squeezes you tight, laughing lightly. You shouldn’t have let it slip but seeing the sadness wash away from him was worth it, even if it ruined the surprise. Coach Kim is so confident in his abilities, and so are you, you just needed Minhee to believe it too.

He puts you down, running his hand through his hair, still processing the good news. Minhee whispers to himself how he can’t believe it. You’ve watched him work tirelessly for this since you were kids, and you also saw how disappointed he was when he missed out on the Youth Olympics, so seeing him now at 20 practically being offered a place on the team is a dream come true for both of you. All you’ve ever wanted was for him to succeed.

Looking behind you, Minhee’s face drops again. As you look to see what caused the sudden change, you see Sunghoon walking towards you both. For the first time in 4 months, you didn’t want to see him right now; Minhee was finally in better spirits and you can’t have Sunghoon ruining it now. But he promised to behave, to take the high road, so you trust him to do just that.

Sunghoon stands beside you, his hand goes to sit on your lower back instinctively but he catches himself, pointing to the rink instead, “Coaches asked if you’re good to go or if you need a warm-up?”

You can’t lie, you’re proud of Sunghoon for not making a snide remark about how Minhee would need the warm-up. It’s tiny, but it’s progress.

Glaring into his eyes, Minhee doesn’t say anything, biting his lips into a thin line and nodding in acknowledgement. 

What is up with him today? You know why Sunghoon is being a bit nicer, but where is Minhee’s sarcastic quip?

“Can I get in there?” Sunghoon gestures to the changing room, “Left my skates,” You move to the side but Minhee doesn’t budge, “Are you seriously going to make me walk around you?” Sunghoon scoffs.

Again, Minhee doesn’t move but you know it’s not in a defiant way, his face isn’t giving you the normal ‘I hate Sunghoon’ look, it’s giving you more of a concern concealed by a deadpan face kind of vibe. Strange. 

Sunghoon isn’t as attuned to your brother's emotions, so he takes offence to Minhee’s resistance to move and pushes him out of the way, “You’re pathetic, Kang.”

You bite your tongue down hard, trying to suppress the anger bubbling inside you. Although Sunghoon warned you already that if Minhee provoked him, he would snap back but he didn’t have to call him pathetic. 

Minhee clenches his jaw and fists, trying to calm himself down. You take the opportunity to rub his arms, soothing him a little, “Don’t listen to him, Mini. Go out there and do your best, yeah? Remember what I told you.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m basically going to the Olympics.”

“No,” you smile softly at him, “I’m proud of you, for everything you’ve achieved and everything you will,” Stepping to stand beside him, you push him towards the rink. The words might not mean anything to him, but you say every syllable with as much sincerity as you can. 

He takes off his blade protectors and skates onto the rink, doing a few laps to warm up. Seeing him glide across the ice, practising his jumps with ease. Miss Barbara was right, he has improved a lot and that’s saying something considering he was already one of the best skaters.

Sunghoon walks up beside you, his skates in one hand as the other takes yours, giving it a quick squeeze before he lets go, joining his coach on the other side. It was a quick moment no one would be able to see but Sunghoon saw the opportunity to touch you for luck just one last time before he had to pretend you meant nothing to him. The sooner you both tell Minhee, the better.

Going back to your seat next to your mother, she doesn’t spare you a look before asking where you went but you don’t bother answering her, choosing to focus your energy on Minhee. He takes his spot in the centre and shifts into his starting pose. He looked so elegant on the ice, even in his sports athleisure. You wonder how much begging and bribery it would take for Rina to make him a costume for his Olympic performance.

Coach Kim gives him a supportive thumbs-up as the music begins. From the bleachers, you see Minhee let out a nervous breath before he begins. His eyes scoot to you and your mum for a second and you use the time to smile and wave enthusiastically which seems to settle him.

As he starts his routine, you can see how his movements have been perfectly choreographed, his frame is poised and he showcases a seamless fusion of strength and elegance. You look to Sunghoon for a moment, who seems to echo your awed amazement. Minhee wove through his spins and intricate footwork with ease. It was like he was a painter and the ice was his canvas, painting the most delicate yet structured portrait. He was sensational.

Minhee looks to your mum mid-skate for approval but you already know she isn’t showing him what he needs, so he shifts to you, eyes never leaving yours as he hits his quadruple axel. The one move he’s been dying to get into his routine, the one move that burdened him forever because he could never land it, now he just achieved it with some ease.

Your hands are clasped to your chest, your face radiating a beam of joy and pride. You can’t believe he did what everyone told him was impossible for him to achieve. The expression on your face is just as elated as his.

He missed having you here to cheer him on, you can tell by the smile of appreciation on his face.

He finishes up his routine with a Biellmann Spin and ends the way he started as if he could continuously loop his performance - it’s been his signature for years.  The arena is silent as all eyes are on your brother as he relaxes from his pose and hunches over for breath. No one can quite believe the magic they just saw.

Surprisingly, Sunghoon is the first one to clap, a smirk on his face. He just witnessed a skate that might actually throw him off the top spot for Nationals, he had to respect it. You join in, standing up to jump and cheer his name. 

On cloud 9, Minhee skates over to Coach Kim who is eagerly awaiting to praise him, “Kid, you were incredible! Seriously, by far your best skate to date,” he roughly pats the skaters back and brings him in for a hug, “My kid is going to Nationals!” The moment was so sweet you naturally pouted before running down to meet him.

“Mini! Oh my god!” your voice pulls him away from his coach, the hug from him being replaced by you, “You did so good, I almost cried! Look at my eyes, I’m not lying,” you point to your face and true to your word, there are tears in the ducts of your eyes. 

Minhee ruffles your hair, “Thanks, Bubs,” he shines at the adoration he’s being soaked in, pure happiness circulating his body.

“You did well, Kang. I have nothing to fault.” Sunghoon’s voice booms behind you, his body pressing against yours as he congratulates Minhee, “Seriously, you’ve always skated well but it’s nice to see you finally bringing me some competition.”

Your brother pulls you from Sunghoon and tucks you into his side. It’s ironic how he’s protecting you from your own boyfriend. Minhee is on such a high, not even Sunghoon could ruin it for him but that doesn’t mean he has to say anything to him. He tightens the hold on your shoulder and walks you past Sunghoon. 

As he puts his guards back on, you take the chance to look at Sunghoon, mouthing him a ‘good luck’ and smile which he happily returns with a wink. He didn’t need luck, he was a pro, but now he does have to step up his game because if he doesn’t get the same reaction from the onlookers, his mum won’t let him leave the rink until he does.

Taking your seat, Minhee gives your mum a look to which she only nods. Was that all he was going to get from her? You seriously needed to find out what had turned them so cold to one another. But that’s future you’s problem, right now, you focus on Sunghoon while he puts on his skates.

He circles the ice, stretching his legs and arms, yet his expression is one of unknowingness. While he chips his skates into the surface a few times, he becomes uneasy. 

Regardless of how he feels, Sunghoon takes his starting stance, arms in the air and one leg spread out behind him.

Beginning his routine, the blare of Ocean Eyes plays through the speakers. The song, the routine, the outfit, everything was cohesive. Sunghoon has spent months preparing his Nationals skate, meticulously changing and adapting every detail to make sure it was perfect. You’ve watched him over the weeks and it’s nothing like how it is right now.

But not in the breathtaking way Minhee was, there was something wrong.

Sunghoon’s eyebrows furrow and as it’s coming up to his quad jumps, he skips them. Now you can confirm something is drastically wrong, nevertheless, he continues on, preparing for his flying camel spin. Whatever is going on, he’s doing his best to brush it off.

“What is wrong with him?” you whisper to yourself but your mother overhears it, smirking at you. 

“He’s thrown off by your brother, I imagine,” she says so casually but as you look at her, there’s a glint in her eye.

Just as Sunghoon completes the spin with a slight wobble, Coach Lee encourages him to keep going despite the apparent struggle. Determined, Sunghoon presses on, transitioning into a forward glide as he prepares for the upcoming triple loop. It's in that moment that everything seems to crumble beneath you.

As Sunghoon launches into his jump from his back foot, smoothly completing the rotations in mid-air, however, the performance takes a sudden turn upon landing – a moment of unease grips everyone watching, you included, as his ankle unexpectedly snaps at a 90-degree angle. The consequence is immediate and stark, leading to his descent to the ground. The hushed gasps of the onlookers echo at the sight of his body skimming across the ice. In the aftermath, Sunghoon holds his injured ankle, his face contorted in pain as he tries to move it.

He's badly hurt, unable to move from his spot on the ice, and the circumstances turn what should have been a flawless routine into an unexpected nightmare.

"Hoonie!" you yell, your heart pounding as you rush to the edge of the rink to assess the situation. Sunghoon is writhing in pain, tears pooling in his eyes, and you notice the blade of his skate has come off his boot - It must have come off when he landed. 

You need to be next to him, but before you can check on your lover, Minhee is quick on your heels, dragging you back. "Let me go," you're no longer concerned about how it will look if you go to check on Sunghoon; all you can think about is if he's okay. 

Minhee doesn’t listen, his grip tightening as he pulls you away. You struggle against him, feeling utterly helpless as you watch the commotion around Sunghoon unfold. Coach Kim, Mrs. Park, and others gather around him, their urgent actions heightening your anxiety. But Minhee is determined to remove you from the scene, forcefully guiding you through the doors and out of the arena.

Once in the car park, he releases you with a frustrated exclamation, his agitation evident in his gestures as he runs his hands through his hair. His eyes betray a storm of emotions, leaving you unsettled and desperate for answers.

“Minhee, what’s happening? We have to go back!” you insist, your voice tinged with desperation.

“We can’t, okay? Let’s just go home,” he responds, his tone strained, his features drawn with tension.

Sensing something amiss, you step closer to him, your heart racing with concern. “Minhee, please, tell me what’s going on. None of this makes sense,” you implore, your hands reaching out to him.

“It’s nothing, alright!” he snaps, his words too forceful to be convincing. “His skate broke, that’s all. I didn’t do anything,” he adds, his denial ringing hollow.

The straightforward solution would be for him to share what's going on, but the way he's shutting down makes it clear that direct communication is off the table. Your mind races back to the kitchen, recalling your mom's directive to Minhee to 'get it done.' Then, at the rink, she warned him not to fuck up. It dawns on you that this is more than just about the routine; something else has transpired. Yet, the connection between Minhee and a botched landing seems implausible. Skaters experience falls regularly; it's just a part of the sport. 

Unless he psyched him out but you were with each of them at different times and the only time they interacted was before Sunghoon went to get his skates from the changing room. Minhee acted super strange when Sunghoon asked to pass him like he was nervous about letting him in- 

Sunghoon’s skate…No, surely not. 

You take a cautious step back, your expression one of bewilderment. What you’re thinking couldn’t possibly have happened, your brother wouldn’t stoop so low, “Mini? You didn’t…”

"You're a liar." Minhee abruptly deters the conversation, leaving you much more puzzled than before. Tilting your head, you give him a sceptical look, but he only offers you a harsh stare, “Oh Mini, I would never do that, wasn’t that what you told me? You said that, didn’t you?” 

Okay, you've officially reached the top of your perplexity. What is he on about? “I don’t know what you mean?” you utter, awaiting any form of clarity. 

A visual cloud storms over his head, symbolic of his tone as he spits, “You’re dating Park fucking Sunghoon.”

How did he find out?

The weight of Minhee's accusation hangs in the air as you come to terms with the fact that your hidden relationship with his rival is now openly known. Your mind races, wondering who could have told him. To be honest, it could have been anyone at that point; you weren't being very secretive, merely keeping it low-key around those who knew Minhee. That was your first mistake, clearly.

The forced laugh that leaves his mouth is venomous, “You really ought to be more careful with your lies, Sis.” Retrieving his phone from his trouser pocket, he flicks through it until he finds something. As if viewing it for the first time, he gets angry again, shoving the device in your face, “You sent me it with the others.”

You’re faced with a picture, and not just any picture, the one of Sunghoon kissing your cheek at the award ceremony. The frozen moment captured in time reveals more than words ever could. Your heart sinks as the reality of your indiscretion stares back at you from the screen. The once-precious memory now serves as evidence. The tension in the air increases as you deal with the impact of your secret finally coming to light.

How could you be so stupid? You were so careful around him, always triple-checking everything and now it’s all up in flames.

“Mini-”

“Just tell me one thing, Y/N. Tell me you haven’t been seeing him since that night you got out of his car? That this started way after and you haven’t been with him for like 4 months?” his resolve has turned from one of anger to despair, desperate for you to tell him his suspicions are wrong.

But deception wasn't an option; lying to him now would only add more layers to an already tangled web. It was too complicated to tell him how you stayed away for a week, and how Sunghoon came to your rescue the night of Yeonjun’s party, and it was certainly not the right time to tell him how Sunghoon brought you back to life with his kisses and how he makes you feel like the most important person in the world. Revealing the true depth of your connection with Sunghoon would undoubtedly trigger Minhee, unleashing a storm far beyond fits of anger, something he couldn’t come back from.

The silence gave Minhee his answer, his face falling from anger to disappointment, “I fucking knew it.”

This is what you wanted to avoid the whole time, the reason you kept Sunghoon a secret in the first place. 

If he knew, he would do something rash like…

“Did you mess with Sunghoon’s skate? Did you do this because I’ve been seeing him?” It all starts to click into place but Minhee quickly shuts you down.

“It wasn’t that Y/N.” He dismisses.

“So it was you? You caused that? Minhee what the fuck?!” you shriek at his twisted confession. 

The revelation sends a shiver down your spine as your emotions mix with disbelief and confusion. This wasn’t the brother you knew, the one you grew up with and held so dear to you. 

The air thickens with unspoken words as Minhee rattles his brain for an explanation. His eyes portray the evident guilt he feels, a turbulent storm in the depths of his gaze. Any anger now dissipates with the wind as it blows cold on his face. His voice, when he finally speaks, carries the weight of regret, “Look, Y/N, it’s complicated; you have no idea what’s going on.”

“Then help me understand because right now it seems like you just tried to hurt Sunghoon because he's my boyfriend." The chill in your words reflects the icy breeze. The atmosphere is thick with tension, like a heavy curtain waiting to be dragged back to reveal the truth behind Minhee's aberrant actions.

Minhee’s anger washes his body again, muttering the word ‘boyfriend’ in disbelief before he speaks up, “The less you know the better, okay? Stay out of it.” With a swift turn, he attempts to walk away, yet his mind is unwilling to let the matter of you and Sunghoon rest. "Y’know, when you sent that picture, I was so angry I could have killed him, but as the weeks passed I was just so fucking disappointed you didn’t have the balls to tell me." 

This whole situation is so fucked up and there is nothing you can do to place everything in a perfect timeline that will help you understand his actions because he’s keeping something detrimental from you. If it wasn’t because Sunghoon and you are together, then what could it possibly be? If it was because he wanted to be at Nationals, it wasn’t Sunghoon standing in his way so it couldn’t be that. 

Before you can dwell on the situation further, your mum strides over, balancing both your belongings. "Will you two stop acting like children and fighting? You're not 5 anymore." She thrusts your jacket and bag into your arms and does the same with Minhee. "Get in the car."

“Mum, is he okay?” It’s a hopeful, albeit hesitant, question directed at your Park-hating mother. You know it's a long shot, but you chance it.

"He'll live. I doubt he'll make it to Nationals, though." She smirks, her reply tinged with dark humour that adds an unexpected dimension of tension. The revelation regarding Sunghoon's injury, delivered with that sneering twist, leaves you with a mix of anxiety for your boyfriend. 

She had something to do with this, that’s obvious. You just had to find out how and why.

taglist (closed!!): @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @bambangan @who-tf-soddhi @nxzz-skz @nshmrarki @hotsforikeu @enhastolemyheart @erehkinnie30 @judeduartewannabe @neosexual @fakeuwus @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @tobiosbbyghorl @kimsunoops

[calisources]

𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, 𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All sentences here are taken from different medias about exes with complicated feelings, exes that are still lovers, jealousy, complicated feelings and the game of chase and catch. You can change names, pronouns, locations and more as you see fit. Some of these are suggestive and others are a little foul, so beware.

Every time I thought to, I wrote about you.

Actually, I hadn’t thought of her for a long time.

Are you waiting for your lover? Do you know that's the only reason anyone comes to a place like this in the middle of the night?

Is that why you're here?

You can go pick another spot. I found this one first.

If you hadn't stolen my bride away in the night, I would not have been forced to take such drastic measures to get her back.

What do you want? An apology? For me to crawl back into your bed and play nice, little wife?

Why should I want spoiled goods returned to me?

You're gone and you left me. My heart has dissipated. The only thing I can feel is the blood rushing through my veins and the strings that hold my fragile heart together.

When you truly love someone, it doesn't go away.

I don't want to forget what we had.

Everything is moving so fast. Before long everyone we know will be scattered across the country, the world even. 

Have I lost you love?

Why would she wear a dress like that? Is she doing it just to torture me?

You need to change clothes now. Everyone is looking at you.

You don’t control what I wear or who I wear it to.

For someone who looks after hearts, you can be careless. You know you broke mine, don't you?

You can't hold on to things just because of the memories.

Yes, I made the mistake of falling in love with a man without any feelings.

You're with him?

You’ve always enjoyed people fighting for you.

The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.

I will never blame Barry for falling in love with you but I will blame him for considering himself eligible.

Don’t torture me any more, I can’t stand it.

Whatever there is between you two I don’t want to know about it.

Just shut up. I need to not to think and you need to think less. We need this.

He is in love with you. I read the fucking letters.

Where the hell have you been?

I don’t need your permission.

Oh, but I do care and you do need my permission. You’ve become very forgetful, my sweet—I’m your husband, remember? Take off your clothes.

I’m jealous, and I find the feeling not only novel, but singularly unpleasant.

Do you love her?

You pushed me away.

Do you want me then, to deceive and entrap you?

It often gives a lady a pleasure to giver her lover a pang.

You're jealous because I actually go after what I want, and I get it.

I'm afraid my jealousy is a beast I find difficult to tame.

I’m not obsessed with her.

It is possible to care about a woman without wanting to bed her.

If girls could spit venom, it'd be through their eyes.

She's a fucking rat trying to humiliate a queen...She's nothing.

That's none of your concern.

I'd like to know who's been giving rings to my council.

But just out of curiosity, how do you feel about getting my name tattooed on your forehead?

You don’t need to worry about Reece.

You are doing all of this on purpose. To get a rise out of me.

Perhaps it bothers you that I am not longer yours to keep and play with.

I chose not to follow your advice. Ned is a very nice person. Handsome, personable—a perfect escort.

Fuckin' my man in my bed. You got some goddamn nerve, girl.

I know you'd react negatively if I approached a make. You're... possessive.

Sugar, I'm way past possessive.

You like jealousy. You like knowing people want you.

I don't get jealous, I get even.

I am not yours. I stopped being yours, you have no right to keep me away from others.

It has been years since you seen me and you still behave like this.

She is my girlfriend, I can do whatever I want to her. 

You know my heart, It’s yours. But I’m done.

I want you to be in my arms again. I don’t think I can live without you.

Every day is hard and the nights are so cold without you here. 

Don’t look away. Look me in the eyes and tell me you no longer feel anything for me. That you don’t think of me. 

This is the reason I need to go away. I can’t be around someone I can never have. 

I am over you, but my heart is still under the spell of the relationship that was. I miss you.

You’re still my person, even if I’m not yours.

I have seen you give him looks and smiles this very night, such as you never give to—me.

I don’t mind you think of someone else, soon I will be the only one in your mind.

Do not worry, I will make you forget everything and everyone. 

This is your punishment, for your little trick tonight. 

You have to stop doing this. Bring me to your bed, making me want you. 

Does it bother you, the thought I will be wed soon? That a man will share my bed every night?

[logaenhowlett]

IF ONLY YOU KNEW PART TWO - L.H.

Summary: Dealing with the aftermath of everything that occurred last night, Logan decides it's time to stop running from his desires. [Set during Logan (2017)]

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Themes of grief and death, Language

A/N: Thank you so much for the love on part one! Didn't expect it to blow up that much. Good news is, it gave me the motivation to write more, so I have lots of ideas for Logan fics!

PART ONE

Over two hundred years, Death had become all too familiar for Logan. A foe that kept barreling in his direction, but always fizzled out before it reached him, instead striking those he cherished the most. When he was younger, he used to revel in feeling of being indestructible, immortal even. That faded away rather quickly once he realised what a curse it was, a cruel joke he grew tired of. Alas, the universe continued laughing.

He thought he could avoid all the unnecessary pain and misery by severing all ties to humanity, retreating to the ends of the world all by his lonesome. But not even the strongest soldier could resist the craving for connection for that long. When Charles had offered a place in his sanctuary, he refused at first, wondering why the universe always seemed to work against him. 

Eventually, the need to distance himself from everything and everyone became smaller. Charles had given him a home, a family, a sense of belonging and after a while, you. Logan was not one for retrospection, but he often recollects how drastically his life had changed once he’d accepted the responsibility of being an X-Man. How he’d gained a new purpose. He owed everything to Charles Xavier.

The shovel in his hand gets heavier by the second. He stops digging for a moment, sensing a whole lot of anger, sorrow and desperation waiting to burst out of him. He knew the end was near for Charles, ever since the incident the old man was barely hanging on. There were times when he wished Charles would just let go, just stop fighting against his mind and body, for his own sake. But that didn’t make his death hurt any less.

His own exhaustion was catching up to him too, having spent the last few days - hell, the last few months - putting everyone else before himself. He hasn’t been able to rest despite all your efforts.

As the last of the dirt falls onto the grave, Logan staggers backwards, his shoulders knock into the tree. He slides against the trunk a little as his knees begin to loosen under his weight, unsure whether it’ll be the adamantium poisoning or heartache that’ll get him first.

Laura’s sniffling snaps his attention, he watches as she curls into your embrace, nothing you were saying stops the tears from escaping. He can see you’re trying to keep your composure for the little girl, but he knows you’re just inches away from completely breaking down. Charles was the father you’d chosen, he had saved your life just as he’d done for countless others, brought you into his arms and gave you something to live and fight for. He knows you’re as defeated as he is right now. Despite every cell in his body aching to comfort you, he understands you need the time and space to grieve in your own way.

After moments of silence, the three of you return to the car. There wasn’t a lot of time left for Laura to find her friends and cross the border to get to freedom. Logan uses that to ground himself to reality, helping her would be a way to honour Charles, for everything he had done and represented. He vows that he’ll grant her wishes, even if it’s the last thing he’ll do. He owes that to Laura, to Charles and to you.

The stars twinkle miles above, painting the night sky with their luminous hue. Logan pulls into the roadside near a lake, deciding it’s in the best interest of everyone to rest tonight. He steps out the car, scouting for a decent place to start a fire. Laura silently accompanies him to gather wood, her eyes follow you as you wander towards the lake, away from the two of them.

Logan senses her need rush to your side, he shakes his head slightly, understanding her distress, “She’ll be okay, kid.” It comes out a little hoarse, having been the first words he’d spoken all day.

All the smoking he’d done in the last two centuries comes in handy, he uses his lighter to spark flames, tending to it before it settles into a calm fire. He runs his hand down his face, his mind has been in overdrive for too long and all he wants is for one moment of quiet. Where he can surrender, stop trying to survive and just live.

“Why are you hiding?” Laura asks him, holding her hands toward the flame.

“What?”

She turns her head to find you in the distance sitting down on the grass with your feet in the water, “From her.”

Logan follows her line of sight, “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, kid.” 

“You want to die. Charles told me.”

He scoffs, the name leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, “What else did he tell you?”

“To not let you.” She stands, finally meeting his eyes. “Tell her. If you want to be happy.” She doesn’t stick around for his response, instead making her way back to the car to sleep.

Her words strike a chord in him, he huffs lightly, ducking his head into his chest. What the hell did she know? Happiness wasn’t something he envisioned for himself. No, that often came in the form of alcohol or stupid cage fights. He never let himself indulge in anything else, having learned his lessons from what seems like a lifetime ago. 

The leaves crunching under your footsteps draws his attention, you sit down an arm's length away, prodding the fire with a stick. He doesn’t know how to address the giant elephant hanging in between the two of you. Last night, when you’d asked the question, the answer was right there on the tip of his tongue. So easy and so simple. But he withdrew, in such a cowardly manner too, deflecting as if he doesn’t ache for you with each passing day.

“He taught me how to play chess.”

He studies you for a brief moment, the tear tracks on your face shine against the orange hue of the fire.

“We used to sit every day, in the garden, I’d run straight to him after classes were done.” You continue, a fond smile on your face, “I was convinced he was cheating, you know? I never beat him.”

Your resolve crumbles and sadness washes over you once again, “And I never will.”

It dawns on him too, the finality of what had happened last night. He almost laughs at the thought of Charles, beloved by so many, resting in an unmarked grave in the middle of nowhere. The universe is a cynical motherfucker.

If anything, he hopes the man felt proud in his last moments, happy for all he’d achieved in his lifetime. Logan wishes he could be even half the person his mentor was. He always berated him to reach out to those around him. To you. That joy was but a breath away from his grasp, all he needed to do is let you in. He must’ve sensed how well the two of you would get along, how you needed each other’s presence as a pillar of support.

“Why did you keep coming back?”

The question renders him a little speechless. Memories flash across his mind - Rogue, Bobby, Storm, but mostly, you. The two of you had always tiptoed around each other when it came to feelings, at times getting enough courage to finally say something, but never following through.

You stand up, thinking he’s absolutely not in the mood to talk. You don’t blame him either. That’s the thing between you two - there was always some silent understanding of the other.

“You.”

It leaves him so quietly, he’s not sure if you heard him. He’s already looking at you when you turn around, something in your eyes he’s never noticed before. Tell her. If you want to be happy. There’s no reason to hide anymore.

“I didn’t want to believe it at first,” He starts slowly, “You kept… creeping into my life and I… I couldn’t stay away.” A smile, a genuine smile, appears on his face, one that hadn’t graced him in a long while.

“I’ve been around for a long time - more than I should’ve.” He continues, his eyes never leaving yours, “I always… felt like I didn’t deserve to survive. It shouldn’t be me, standing here instead of someone else. But you, being around you… made me want to try.” A weight forms in his throat, he swallows it down, “Try to live not just for you - but for me too. I can never thank you enough for that. For sticking with me, for trusting me, for letting me… love you.”

You close the distance, gently resting your hand against his cheek. He leans into your touch almost instantly, even that simple gesture is enough for him. But you don't end there.

"Logan... I love you too."

He thinks his heart stops, your admission knocks the wind out of him. The old man was right, everything he'd wanted was right in front of him. He leans into you, tilting your chin upwards and kisses you with a burning passion. All the pain he'd suffered sinks to the back of his mind, nothing but a shadow compared to what he's feeling at the moment. When you pull back, doe-eyed and out of breath, he realises this is it. You're it.

In the distance, he catches a smile form on Laura's face, her eyes still shut as she pretends to sleep.

And we're done! It was always going to be a happy ending.

[l0vergirlsw0rld]

changes

dbf!loganxgrown!reader

a/n: my first resquest! i hope you like it <3 send me more requests pls pls!

wc:2.5k

FLUFF, AGE GAP, TABOO RELATIONSHIP

summary: you've had enough of the tension between you and Logan, your dad's best friend, so you decided to go confront him about it.

It’s funny how the past creeps up on you. One minute, you’re just a kid with scraped knees and big dreams, and the next, you’re staring down the barrel of decisions you swore you’d never make. But life’s got a way of pushing you into corners, and before you know it, you’re crossing lines you didn’t even know were there.

Logan’s always been a fixture in my life, like the smell of cigar smoke that clings to the walls long after the flame’s been snuffed out. A constant. Steady. Safe, in a way that most people never are. My dad’s best friend, the man who taught me how to throw a punch and how to take one. He was always there, just on the periphery, watching out for me in that quiet, gruff way of his.

But things change. People change. Or maybe, it’s just me. Because somewhere along the way, the way I look at him shifted. The safe, familiar lines blurred, and now I’m seeing things I wasn’t supposed to see—feeling things I wasn’t supposed to feel.

It’s like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing full well that one wrong step could send you plummeting, but you can’t bring yourself to step back. And Logan… he’s the kind of danger you run toward, not away from.

I know better. I should know better. But when I’m around him, all that common sense goes up in smoke. Just like the end of his cigar, burning slow, smouldering—until there’s nothing left but ash.

You put down your pen with a heavy sigh.

Your diary, the safekeeping for all your thoughts and worries, had recently become your go-to place for your impure thoughts as well.

A part of you wished you could go back to the way it was before. It was simpler, more moral, and occupied a lot less of your mind than it did now.

But something had shifted between the two of you when you became a woman. 

The way you looked at him was a big one. Now that you were in the adult dating pool as well, you couldn’t help but notice that Logan was an attractive man and a single one too.

You obsessively questioned why that was because, to you, he was the complete package; More than just tall, dark, and handsome. 

You would catch yourself stealing glances when he wasn’t looking, the way his chest and abdominal muscles flexed beneath his shirt when he moved. The protruding veins of his forearms and hands, how his fingers were covered in callouses from work.

You had memorized the way his voice dipped into a low grumble when he said your name, how his hazel eyes darkened with something unspoken when they met yours.

The way he spoke to you also took a drastic turn. Keeping the conversation preferably to small talk, or once in a while he’d tease you and call you those annoying pet names from when you were little:

“Watch your mouth, sweetheart.” 

“Come on princess, take a joke,” 

“Kid, you’re gonna be the death of me.”  

Another thing was the way you interacted with each other; you weren’t jumping into his arms as soon as he stepped through the door or being picked up and settled into his lap anymore, it was just a nod of acknowledgement or a slight touch on your lower back if he needed to pass by you.

Even the littlest amount of contact didn’t stop you from imagining what it would feel like if he didn’t stop himself from touching you. What it would feel like if he let go of that last thread of restraint that keeps him just out of reach.

When you lay alone at night, you couldn’t help but think about sitting on that lap again one day.

The lines between right and wrong blur every time he’s near now. It’s dangerous, this game you’re both playing in your heads.

The last time he’d been over, fixing something for your dad, you couldn’t help but notice how his gaze lingered on you a moment too long. How the air seemed to crackle with tension when you were alone in the room together.

“You alright bub’?” he’d tried to play it casually but his eyes… his eyes told a different story.

Bub, the nickname he had given you when you were younger.

“Yeah, just watching you,” you’d bit your lip, keeping your gaze locked on his. 

He nodded, but the way his jaw tightened, the way his hands gripped the wrench a little harder, told you everything you needed to know. You could feel the weight of his gaze on your back as you left the room, your heart pounding in your chest, knowing he felt it too—the pull, the magnetic force that kept you two stealing glances here and there. 

You close the diary with a soft thud as if shutting the book could somehow lock away the thoughts swirling in your head. But the truth is, there’s no escaping them—not when every interaction with Logan leaves you trembling with a flame you cannot control.

And now, sitting in your room, your diary clutched to your chest like a lifeline, you know it’s only a matter of time before something gives. 

There is no better time than the present after all…Fuck it.

With a deep breath, you push yourself off the bed and glance at the clock. It’s late, but you know Logan’s still awake—he always is.

 Part of you was set on going to see him now, to see if the tension you’ve been imagining is real, if he’ll react the same way as you will.

But another part of you, the part that remembers the little girl who used to jump into his arms without a second thought, holds you back. 

Because once you took that step, there was no going back to the way things were before.

And maybe that’s what scared you the most.

You slipped out of your apartment, clutching your car keys so tightly that the metal might bend under the pressure.

 What were you doing? You weren’t entirely sure yourself, but it felt as if your body was on autopilot—drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

Finding your car, you slid into the driver’s seat, your fingers trembling as you shot Logan a quick text.

Y/N: You up?

Your leg bounced nervously as you waited for his reply. How would he react? Would his voice of reason prevail, or would he finally admit to feeling the same pull that you did?

A moment later, your phone buzzed. Logan responded with a simple thumbs-up emoji.

Very on brand. 

Simple, efficient, and direct. You thought.

With his green light, you pulled out of the parking garage and drove towards his log cabin up at Deer Lake. The hum of the engine was the only sound breaking the stillness of the night. The closer you got, the more your heart pounded against your ribcage, a steady rhythm that matched the thoughts racing through your mind. 

You couldn’t stop replaying the last time you’d been alone with him, the way his eyes had lingered on yours just a fraction too long, the almost imperceptible tightening of his jaw when your fingers brushed his as he handed you something.

Was tonight the night everything would change?

As you turned onto the narrow, winding road that led to his place, the dense trees seemed to close in around you, the darkness thickening with each passing second.

The familiarity of the path did little to ease your nerves; if anything, it only heightened the anticipation. 

You’d been here countless times before, but tonight was different. Tonight, you weren’t just visiting a family friend—you were venturing into no man's land.

Finally, the cabin came into view, the warm glow of the porch light spilling out into the cold night air.

You parked the car and took a deep breath, your hand hovering over the door handle as you tried to steady yourself. 

There was still time to turn back, to pretend this had all been a bad idea, a fleeting moment of weakness.

But deep down, you knew you weren’t going to, you knew you didn’t want to.

With a quiet resolve, you stepped out of the car and made your way up the steps to his door. The sound of gravel crunching beneath your boots seemed louder in the stillness of the night.

You hesitated for a moment at the door, your hand raised to knock, when it suddenly swung open, revealing Logan standing there, backlit by the soft light from inside.

He was dressed in his usual white tank top and denim jeans. His tall presence filled the doorway, broad shoulders and familiar, rugged face, but it was the look in his eyes that held you captive. There was a flicker of something there—something that mirrored the pressure in your chest.

“Kid,” he said, his voice low and steady, but you could hear the tension beneath it.

“Can I come in?” You mumbled shyly. 

He nodded,  and you stepped past him into the cabin. The door closed behind you with a soft click, and suddenly the world outside felt very far away. It was as if you’d crossed over into a place where nothing but the two of you existed.

You followed Logan deeper into the cabin, the warmth from the fireplace offering a sharp contrast to the cold, restless night outside. He leaned against the table, returning his glass of whiskey in his hand.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to break the silence. “Logan… can we talk?”

He took a swig and looked up, his hazel eyes reflecting the flickering firelight. “‘Bout what?”

You hesitated, then stepped closer, your heart racing. “Logan, I see the way you look at me.”

He took a swig of his drink.

“... it’s okay. I’ve been looking too.” You stepped closer. 

“I know, sweetheart,” He looked down into his drink. “...hard to ignore what’s goin' on between us.” 

Your breath hitched: he acknowledged it. 

“It is hard, and it’s driving me crazy... we can’t keep pretending like there’s nothing here. I like you, a lot, and I know it’s wrong but I can’t help it.” You fiddled with your fingers. 

“Kid,” he began, his voice gruff, “it ain’t wrong to feel what you’re feelin’. Not with the way that things have changed between us.”

You swallowed, your heart pounding in your chest as you took another step closer, the tension between you thickening with each breath. “Then why have you been pulling away? Why do you keep acting like we can just ignore this?”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his hands flexing as if he was trying to find the right words. “I’ve been tryin’ to protect you…. Things ain’t as simple as they used to be. You’re not a little girl anymore, and I’m… well, I’m me. There’s a lot of weight that comes with this, darlin’. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want it too.”

Your heart ached at his words, and a relieved sigh escaped your body. “I don’t care about the weight, Logan. I just… I want to figure this out with you. I want us to be honest about what we’re feeling, even if it’s messy.”

Logan’s expression softened, a hint of vulnerability showing through his tough exterior. “You’re sure about this, princess? Once we open this door, there ain’t no goin’ back.”

You nodded, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “I’m sure. I want to see where this goes. I don’t want to keep pretending.”

Logan took a deep breath and pulled you close to him by your waist, the warmth of his touch grounding you. “Alright, we’ll take it slow and figure it out as we go.” 

Logan’s gaze lingered on yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to disappear. The warmth of his hand on your waist, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the soft crackle of the fire—all of it faded into the background as you both stood there, suspended in the tension of what was about to happen.

You could see the conflict in his eyes, the war between the desire he’d been holding back and the protective instinct that had kept him at a distance for so long. But as you leaned in closer, closing the gap between you, something in his resolve seemed to break.

His hand moved from your waist to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart swoon. Your breath caught as his gaze flickered down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, as if silently asking for permission.

You answered by closing the distance, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was both gentle and intense, like the release of a storm that had been building for far too long. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

The kiss deepened, a slow exploration of all the feelings you’d both been holding back. There was a rawness to it, a hunger that had been denied for too long, but also a softness, an unspoken promise that this was only the beginning.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to steady yourselves. Logan’s hand remained on your face, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw as if he was memorizing the moment.

“Damn, kid,” he murmured, You could smell the whiskey on his breath. “That was...”

“Yeah,” you whispered, unable to find the words to describe what you were feeling. “It was.”

Logan’s eyes searched yours, and in them, you saw a mixture of relief, longing, and something deeper—something that told you that whatever came next, you wouldn’t have to face it alone.

Without a word, Logan’s hands slid down to your thighs, and with a strength that always amazed you, he lifted you effortlessly. A small gasp escaped your lips as he carried you over to the worn leather armchair by the fire, he settled you in his lap, just like you’d been longing for.

The warmth of his body against yours sent a shiver down your spine as you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck. Logan held you close, his hand resting on your lower back, grounding you in the moment.

“What now?” he asked with a grin, his voice a little more seductive now as if the kiss had made it harder for him to hold back.

“What happened to start slow?” You tightened your grip around his neck. 

A small, almost shy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he leaned in to kiss you again, this time slower, savouring every moment. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was this—just the two of you and the beginning of something you both knew you’d been waiting for.

ty so much for your request reader <3

🏷️: @megangovier, @back2thebasics

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[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

imagining ghoul just being completely dazzled by vaultie reader….their beauty, their clean teeth and nails, their skin…the softest, smoothest skin he’s seen in hundreds of years. he could hardly remember how it looked til now.

he’d watch over you while you slept by the fire he made with such fascination, studying your features like this when he knew you wouldn’t be able to raise an eyebrow at him and he could allow himself to be relaxed and let down his tough guy wall (after all, you only just met a few days before).

and when you roll up the pants of your suit one day in the heat and expose your legs…he sees they’re perfectly waxed (who knew they had that in the vaults?) and it takes everything he has not to just reach out and touch them.

Smooth Skin

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Vault Dweller

Word Count: 3,109

Warnings: smut (18+), sexual tension, masturbation (male), mild somnophilia, very mild angst.

Summary: Cooper's new companion is beyond distracting.

Notes: Another excellent submission! I have had VERY similar thoughts about how people in the vaults would still adhere to so many old grooming practices that had long disappeared from most of the Wasteland. It would be such a weird thing for non-vault dwellers to see, and not being able to maintain them would be quite the shock for vault dwellers.

Also, this poor old man wouldn't consciously recognize the feeling of "arousal inspired by a specific person" if you beat him over the head with it. It's been about 200 years since he felt it.

Cooper was beginning to wonder if he'd been screwed.

Holding the deeply familiar vial up to the light once more, he gave the liquid contents a shake, examining the consistency, the color, the weight. For the half dozenth time that hour, he lifted it to the open cavity in his face where his nose once sat, inhaling deeply, testing for any unfamiliar odors, ultimately finding none. Lifting the solution to his lips, he tasted it, once, twice, rolling it around in his mouth with deep suspicion.

Everything seemed to be normal about the latest bunch of vials he'd acquired, at least on the surface. However, he was beginning to worry that he'd been given some sort of dud batch, and now he was starting to dissolve into some sort of ferality.

But this didn't feel like the dozens of other times he'd cut it close over the years, when his chest constricted, fighting for every breath as his mind began to cloud with aggressive thoughts, making him feel ready to lash out at anything that moved. No, he could breathe just fine, and he didn't necessarily feel aggressive, but he did feel oddly tense and ready to pounce at the slightest provocation. It didn't seem like anything had changed about his treatment.

Then again, something else had changed pretty drastically over the last few days.

Standing in the baking sun, he waited impatiently for the little vault-dweller he'd inexplicably managed to become attached to to finish her business, infinitely more fidgety than usual. He scanned the horizon with uncharacteristically anxious eyes, his boot tapping in the dirt.

"C'mon, Vaultie! Move your ass!" he called, harsher than he intended, but when the girl came scurrying up out of the ditch, he offered no apology, simply jerking his head in the direction they'd already been headed down the road, waiting for her to get a step or two ahead of him so he could follow, watching her closely.

Very closely.

The old cowboy prided himself on his ability to analyze people, to figure things out about them long before they were disclosed. It had proved an immensely useful skill over and over again. This girl, however, confused him. The pristine cheeriness of her was unsettling, making her stand out clear as day against the dingy, angry, consuming Wasteland.

He didn't trust it, frankly. It had been a long time since he'd met anyone who was genuinely selfless and kind simply because they felt it the right thing to do. She was definitely hiding something, concealing her true nature, but at least she was good at it. Besides, he'd be lying to himself if he said part of the reason he allowed her to tag along with him wasn't that he didn't want to walk past her pretty little corpse on the side of the road in a few days...as if there would be a corpse leftover. At least, a recognizable one.

Ahead of him, the girl caught her boot on a crack in the ancient asphalt, sending her stumbling; his quick reflexes kicked in almost instantly, and he yanked her back by her suit sleeve, sighing when she cast a sheepishly apologetic glance his way. He rolled his eyes and gave her a small push to keep it moving, watching as her hair swished back and forth with her movements.

How many decades had it been since he'd seen a woman with long hair? Maybe it had even been a century, or more. Most women in the Wasteland kept their hair cropped fairly short; easier to care for, less for someone to grab onto if you were attacked. Shampoo was still fairly easy to acquire, but only because most people didn't have consistent access to enough clean water to bathe with. Hair could also be sold in some cases, and many people found themselves desperate enough to do something like that in this world, unfortunate as it was.

But this girl, her dark curls hung down to her waist, flowing down her back and shoulders elegantly, or laid along her spine in a neat braid when she got especially red and sweaty. It was so shiny; he wanted to run his fingers through it for some reason, so badly that when she'd bumped into him their first day of travel, her view obscured by the dark curtain, he didn't even think to scold her, too busy willing himself to not thread his fingers into the soft strands. When he was close enough, he noticed that it smelled like wildflowers.

He'd met her just outside Filly. Where she was headed, a few settlements northwest to find an aunt or a sister or a grandmother or something, wasn't the most perilous route she'd shown him on her Pip Boy (in a very surreal conversation where she'd treated him like he was any other man), but she was already showing that she wasn't truly equipped to make it there intact. Hell, she had flagged him down for directions, in a move that had made him genuinely wonder if he hadn't done too much Jet that morning. That little maneuver wouldn't get her killed with him (at least, on the right day) but it would quickly get her robbed or worse with many others.

His first instinct had been to leave her to her fate, but he found that he just couldn't leave her there on the side of the road, that blinding white smile, those big, round eyes, her basically pristine vault suit making her stand out like a sore thumb. Begrudgingly, he had agreed to let her walk with him to where she was going.

She tired rather quickly compared to him, his condition making thermoregulation much less of a concern. His soft new companion, however, was unaccustomed to the sun, to the heat, and was often too exhausted to continue in any real capacity by the time the sun set. The nights got cold, colder than it seemed she'd anticipated, and she chattered her way through that whole first evening; each subsequent night, he'd built a small fire to keep her warm through the coldest part. It annoyed him immensely, having to expose them in the dark like that, but, oddly, he found that he equally disliked watching her shiver on the ground.

"Do you think we could stop for a while?" she asked suddenly, stopping in her tracks to turn to him and nearly slamming into his chest in the process. His hand braced on her shoulder, slightly shoving her aside so they didn't collide; the hand that touched her tingled when he pulled it away, and he cast a quick glance at his palm.

"You're really pushin' it today, kid. You know that?" he growled, his tone dripping with unconcealed irritation. They could easily get at least a few more hours of walking in before the sun went down, and once she stopped walking for the day, it was hard to get her going again.

The way her eyes widened at him before dropping to the ground actually made him feel guilty, flooring him just a little. He held his face in its usual neutral mask.

"I'm sorry." she murmured, chastened. "I'm just not used to walking so long in the heat."

Immediately, he rolled his eyes, though whether he was rolling them at her or at himself, he genuinely didn't know. Casting his eyes further down the road, then around where they'd stopped, they fell onto a clutch of old, dead trees and rocks, a small amount of shade gathering there. It was well concealed enough, he supposed.

"Fine. We can stop over there. But we're gonna get a few more miles in today, at least, so don't get comfy."

Flashing him those perfect teeth again, she quickly made her way off the road and threw herself down at the base of the largest tree, hiding from the sun as best as she could. He took the opportunity to dig some food out of his bag, have another smoke or two, and reflect on his choices, his back to her by and large as he watched the road.

"I didn't know the sun was so bright." she huffed after while, her tone almost petulant. "Or so hot."

He turned back to her, a slick reply about her general naivete locked and loaded, but he was stopped in his tracks by the sight of her sat there on the ground, tugging off her boots and socks. Folding each sock into a neat little ball, she tucked them into their corresponding mate and sat them aside, stretching her legs out in front of her. Quiet, he watched her roll up each pant leg to her knee, as high as the cut of the material would allow, reclining back in the small patch of shade she'd found.

Those toned, smooth calves that peeked out at him were the most intriguing thing he'd seen in a minute, his eyes practically glued to the exposed skin. There was a softness to her that he thought didn't exist anymore; in her supple body, the way she actually held a little extra fat from years of being fed and safe in a vault, the soft, clear expanse of her skin, her clean, manicured fingernails. Oddly enough, he found himself deeply wanting to reach out and wrap one of his hands around her ankle, the other running up the taut muscle of her leg. He shoved the feeling down and turned back to the road, fidgeting.

A while later, the sun was dipping behind the horizon, but still frying everything it touched when she finally spoke again.

"Do you wanna get going soon?" she called, tone much more relaxed than before.

He turned to look at her again, having avoided doing so for over an hour, her sleeves rucked up to her elbows as well, and shook his head.

"Nah. Might as well just bed down here and get some sleep. Good a place as any, I guess. I wanna cover some real ground tomorrow." he replied, keeping his tone noncommittal. "Get your rest, princess. If you can't keep up tomorrow, I'm leaving your ass behind."

She shot him a look, somewhere between evaluating whether or not he was serious and rolling her eyes at his continued unpleasantness, but she didn't respond outside of a simple nod, sinking back down onto the ground and closing her eyes. Once the sun went down fully, he went around gathering up dried sticks and brush to build a small fire, setting up near where she was obviously quickly falling asleep, curled up on her side and using her backpack as a pillow.

Cooper kept watch for a few hours as it quickly darkened, the girl falling soundly asleep as he sat polishing his guns. Eventually, he grew bored of weapon maintenance, and his eyes were drawn to the vault dweller lying a few feet to his side.

He leaned closer, allowing himself to inspect her face closer than he'd had a chance to thus far. Walking behind her all day allowed him plenty of time to study her silhouette, her gait, the dancing length of her hair. But her face was always hidden, and when she turned to face him, he felt unable to look her in the eye for too long without that itch creeping into his brain, sending him searching through his pockets for his inhaler.

Now that he could take a long, uninterrupted look at her without worrying about being caught, it finally dawned on him, though, not immediately:

Fuck, she was beautiful.

And she was, and would have been if he'd met her in another life, too, each feature of her more appealing than the next. That long hair had been braided back away from her face, the length of it coiled like a snake along her back as she snored ever-so-lightly, her head sitting crookedly against her backpack. Before he could even think about it, his hand had already been tugged loose of his glove and reached out to softly pet at it, the strands silken under his bare fingers.

When did he get so close to her?

He thought back to her exposed legs, now hidden back away beneath her pant legs, kicked most of the way back down to assist in keeping her warm, and thought about how there had been no hair there. Many aspects of grooming that had once been normal were long lost to him, but that was certainly one of the biggest ones. He had completely forgotten that women once generally shaved the hair from their legs, and how big a deal it was considered when they didn't. He'd thought it was a silly thing to expect then; now, it just seemed like a sad thing to fixate on, with all that had been going on at the time.

However, that didn't stop him from imagining how smooth, how silky her legs would feel if he ran his hands along them, how high the smoothness would go until he would be able to feel the presence of downy little body hairs, the likes of which he hadn't had himself in centuries. Would they start at her knees? Or would he have to feel all the way up to the tops of her pillowy thighs to feel them? He remembered, vaguely, that some women would shave between their legs, too, and wondered if she did that as well.

Why was he thinking about what was between her legs?

His brain was so foggy the longer he looked at her, his one free hand quickly moving to dig his inhaler out of his pocket, taking the longest drag he could take off of it. It didn't clear his mind, didn't stop him from feeling like he wanted to touch more of her, to lean close and smell her, taste her. A hard shudder broke down his spine, and his cock set to throbbing in his pinstriped pants, his teeth gnashing. He was anxious to get to the next big settlement so he could buy new vials; he was convinced there was something wrong with these ones.

Regardless, he could breathe fine and didn't feel like a threat to the girl, necessarily...so his attention shifted, rather sourly, to his aching erection, now straining against his thigh.

It wasn't that he never masturbated; he was still a man beneath all the rads and rot, and his sex drive had never fully died, only dwindled down to a single flame whose presence didn't usually draw any attention from him. But it wasn't something he relished in, no more than eating food he couldn't really taste anymore to sustain himself or feigning sleep to allow his legs and back to rest. It was simply another need that had to be met on occasion; a quick tug at himself, not thinking of anything in particular, until he spilled onto the ground and went on with his life. It never needed to be more than that.

Now, however, his entire gut was aflame, the smell of her filling the air and further intoxicating him, his still-gloved hand moving to press against his cock through the fabric, the feeling leaving him arching his hips slightly up into his own touch. He wanted so badly to touch more than her hair, but knew that it wasn't advisable; the girl slept more soundly than anyone in the Wasteland, it seemed, but if she were to wake up and find him touching himself beside her, who knows what trouble there would be?

He couldn't touch her, but that didn't mean he couldn't study her, running his eyes over each part of her over and over again as the light and warmth of the fire slowly died down. He was tracing curve of her breasts and the way it flowed into the little roll of her belly for the umpteenth time, grinding hard against his hand, by the time the flames died down completely. She'd curled almost completely in on herself, hiding her face against her hands, and he wished he could look closer at it again as he slunk closer and closer to the edge.

As if she could read his mind, she suddenly rolled onto her back, resettling quickly as her head slid fully off of the bag. The mild highlights of the moon played along her face and torso, her plush lips parting in a soft, dreamy sigh. Fleetingly, he wondered if she would make that sound for him if he touched her just right, and, embarrassingly, that thought was enough to put an end to him.

The orgasm that washed over him granted some mild relief, his spend pooling in a sticky mess in his pant leg as he let out a few quiet heavy breaths, the hand that had been touching her hair scratching lines into the dirt, but it was bittersweet. In the haze afterwards, for the first time in a long, long time, he thought about Barb, about the way she would sigh his name when she came apart, about how soft and warm she would feel against him when he held her close after they made love. The deeply buried pain behind his breastbone that had started the day he'd found out the truth about her kicked up once more.

Sitting in the dark silence, a hard edge of discomfort and annoyance steeled up his spine, leaving him still in his ruminations until the uncomfortable feeling of the mess in his pants became intolerable. Letting out a huff, he shifted away from her and walked a few steps away as quietly as possible to clean himself up as best as he could, shame thick in the crisp air. When he finished, he dug into his pocket for an angry cigarette, jamming it between his thin lips and turning back towards her to face away from the breeze as he lit it.

But when he looked at her once more, really let himself look at her, he felt that pain in his breast soften, her soft skin almost glowing in the moonlight as she slept, peacefully unaware of anything but her blissful rest. It wasn't something he saw often. When he sat back down beside her, grabbing for his loose glove in the dark, he sat close enough that the outside of his thigh touched the arm under her head, pulling on his lit smoke absentmindedly as he continued to study his little companion. Her even, steady breathing was quite soothing to him, actually.

He was still going to buy a new set of vials.

[whispersoftheton]

Hello!

Do you think you could write an anthony x reader angst turned fluff/smut fic?

They’ve married out of duty but both have feelings for each other they refuse to admit

Hi! This is also my first fic for this fandom and I got kind of carried away with it, hope you don't mind :) Thank you for requesting btw <3

dont worry the next request i post will have smut in it and im posting that one this weekend >:)

Anthony Bridgerton x F!Reader

Warnings: reader and Anthony are married, pining, death of parents (reader), angst, kissing, fluff at the end

Word Count: 2.4K

The day dawned crisp and clear, sunlight peering through the flowing curtains and illuminating your path along the long hallway of your lavish home. The sounds of maids bustling through the estate and the gravel crackling beneath the horse's hoofs from outside filled your ears. Your mind raced with the many tasks at hand for today as you straightened out your dress. The last ball of the season was a significant one indeed, and you had the honor of hosting it tonight. The last few days were filled with overseeing that every detail of the evening, no matter how small, was managed and executed perfectly. 

As the maids fetched accessories and floral arrangements for you to approve ahead of the festivities, you pondered how your life had drastically changed. A mere three months had passed since your wedding day. Still, it seemed a lifetime ago. You had every reason to be happy, you had married well, living more than comfortably, and your husband was not unkind towards you like others you've heard about. But your marriage to the viscount wasn't exactly the love story of the century, to say the least. 

After the passing of both your parents, Lady Danbury had taken you in as one of her own. Raised you to be a lady of society in every way she saw fit and even sponsored your coming out last season. The very same season, the Queen appointed you as her diamond. Not long after, none other than Anthony Bridgerton set his sights on you, surpassing any honorable suitor that even thought about appearing at your doorstep. The entire courtship, along with the proposal, felt purely transactional. Anthony berated you with questions, encounters feeling more like interviews than any courting you were used to. It was not as if you were not attracted to the man if you were being entirely honest with yourself; you'd spent the better half of your time bottling up whatever it is that blossoms in your chest when he is near. And you hated yourself for it. For feeling something you couldn't even name for a man who treated as nothing more than an object. Every public outing where he was caring towards you, even kind and every bit of charming you could ever hope for, raised your hopes high only to see them crashing down at the indifference towards you the moment you were alone without the peering eyes of the ton on you.

Your wedding and honeymoon came and went in a blur. Not even able to consummate the marriage properly due to an argument that left you both enraged and unable to look each other in the eye in the days that followed. The following months were a string of simple greetings in passing and only speaking to one another when absolutely necessary. The empty house you now lived in was becoming your own personal void without so much as the company of your supposed husband.

"Viscountess Bridgerton, are you alright?" Your maid questioned as you snapped out of your haze and directed your attention back to the bouquets before you.

"Yes, this one will be lovely for tonight, thank you." You made your final decision as Anthony strolled into the room. Your maids quickly making themselves sparse, leaving the two of you alone.

"My family should be arriving any second; I assume everything for tonight is in order, is it not?" The underlying sarcasm and questioning of your ability as the lady of the house crawled right under your skin, any lingering feelings you had been contemplating only a moment ago for the Viscount gone in an instant at his distasteful manner.

"Yes, Lord Bridgerton." You replied dryly.

"Dear, we are married and have been for some time now. I would very much like it if I did not have to tell you to address me by my first name while we are in our home." You audibly scoffed at his command while standing from your seat.

"And I would very much like it if my husband would not treat me as though I do not exist." You snapped. Anthony's jaw clenched as he tensed before you. "Seems like neither of us shall get what we want. Now if you'll excuse me, my lord, I have some preparations still pending for tonight. I am sure you can see your family to their rooms for now." 

"Now, you will not even greet my family. Do you have a distaste for them as well?"

"Never. I adore your mama and siblings as if they were my own." Anthony searched for any sign of deceit but instead found honest eyes staring back at him, making his heart ache. "If anything, I am grateful. Alas, there shall be a Bridgerton in this home I do not dislike." 

Your thoughts betrayed you abruptly exited the room and returned to your bed chambers to prepare for the evening, shutting the door and leaning against it in an attempt to steady yourself. Damn him. His scent blurred your thoughts and inhibited every one of your senses as you attempted to concentrate on the anger portrayed in his words. Instead, your mind wandered to how his white shirt hugged every curve of his chest, the plumpness of his lips, and the curve of his jaw. It was alluring in the most intoxicating way. You knew you had to compose yourself before the night began; the last thing you needed was to be distraught at your own ball.

------------------------

You stepped into the ballroom in your new dress gown the modiste had spent a significant amount of time making especially for this occasion. The staircase was beautifully adorned with white roses and touches of lilacs cascading down onto the main area. Candelabras and other flourishing arrangements were stationed around the refreshment tables your guests gathered at, and the thrumming rhythm of classical music whispered into your ears as you took notice of everyone enjoying themselves before greeting them. 

Unbeknownst to you, Anthony stood at the opposite end of the ballroom, observing how you conducted yourself gracefully amongst the guests—making light conversations while extending your kindness to everyone. He marveled at your ability to make each person feel as though they had your undivided attention; although he would never admit it, he found himself yearning for that same attention from you.

Early on, Anthony knew you fit all the requirements he had given himself for a wife. Someone honorable and suitable enough to hold the role of his Viscountess. It was precisely why he had chosen you, but that wasn't the only motive. You were the only lady's company outside his sisters; he did not particularly hate. Every potential partner he sought that season out had come up empty, whether it had been on the conversation or any other unfulfilling matter they discussed. You were different. You carried a conversation like no other, educated in far more areas than he could've hoped for, but none of that quite captured his heart in an unsuspecting manner like your character. You were kind and compassionate in a way he admired; you challenged him in ways that irritated him to no end, yet he found himself entirely enraptured by you. This is precisely why he had no choice other than shut you out completely. Anthony knew letting you get too close would be going against everything he wanted for himself. He couldn't let himself love another or have another love him; with love came loss. That he knew for certain.

"All seems good with the two of you, I see." Daphne smiled while moving to stand by Anthony as she spoke, breaking his train of thought.

"Good? I do not follow, dear sister." Anthony cleared his throat.

"Yes, good. With the way you were just openly admiring your wife, I assume it is only because the two of you have finally gotten over yourselves and admitted whatever it is you feel for one another." Anthony practically rolled his eyes at his younger sister, beginning to regret ever being forthcoming with her about the circumstances of his marriage early on. "Oh, do not tell me you are still playing this game? At this stage of marriage? Anthony-" She began scolding him, but he interrupted and led her to a more private area of the ballroom. 

"There is no game. We married because it was our duty to do so. Nothing more, nothing less. You will have to accept that, Daphne." Anthony's voice grew stern as he furrowed his brows at his sister.

"And I do. What I will not accept is the way your love for each other goes unspoken when it is clear to everyone around you." She spoke her following words in a hushed tone as to keep anyone who may be standing near from listening to them. "There is no doubt you hold love in your heart for her, brother. But if you do not tell her soon, I fear you will lose her and your only chance at happiness forever." With that, Daphne offered him a soft smile before walking towards Simon, who busied himself greeting Lady Danbury and her mama.

The night went on better than you could've hoped for. The dances and mingling were without a flaw, and even Lady Bridgerton and the Dutchess were quick to praise you on how well everything had turned out. Soon the guests started to filter out, making their way home after a long night of celebration. You strolled over to your husband after bidding goodbye to her majesty the Queen and ensuring everything had been to her liking. Anthony couldn't help but take notice of how stunning you looked tonight. How your dress fell perfectly over your figure, gems scattered throughout to match his mother's necklace laid in the most alluring way on the supple skin of your neck and chest. He was entranced in a way he'd never been before. Perhaps Daphne had been right. There's a sentence he never thought he'd utter, he thought to himself. Perhaps he had let his fears control him for far too long.

You had barely noticed your ring slipping from your fingers to fall at Anthony's feet as you approached him. Both of you leaned down to reach for it in unison, fingers ghosting over one another, making your breath catch and your eyes meet as he placed it upon your finger once again. The intimacy of such a small moment becoming too much to bear far too quickly.

"I must go." You could not bear to withstand one more moment under Anthony's intense glare, the part of you that wanted to finally divulge all the feelings you'd fought so hard to suppress after all this time threatening to break through at any given moment. You suddenly stepped back, picked up your dress the best you could, and walked hastily to avoid attracting unwanted attention from lingering guests. As you paced through the gardens, an overwhelming and uncertain feeling washed over you before you overheard Anthony's steps behind you.

"Why? Why is it that you distance yourself from me?" Anthony shouted in a hushed tone toward you. 

"Me? I am not the one stuffed in my office all day, coming to bed at late hours of the night when I am asleep and gone once I wake. Avoiding me day in and day out as if I am a plague to you." Tears welled in your eyes, making Anthony's breath hitch. He could not stand to see you like this. Every nerve in his body burned to fix whatever was troubling you, even if he was the one who caused it. Every feeling he had worked so hard to bury all this time, convincing himself he did not love you, could not love you, surfacing with every word that escaped your lips. "You treat me as though you do not care for me." Your voice was just low enough for him to hear, eyes cast downward, unable to give him so much as a glance through his silence. 

"Do not care for you? It is as if I am being consumed when I am with you. I cannot hold a breath or do the most ordinary task without you racing across my every thought. I feel as though I am losing my sanity because I cannot bear to be without you for one second. And when you are near me, it is positively intoxicating in ways I did not know to be possible." Anthony stepped cautiously toward you, fingers ghosting over your cheek, eyes dancing along your features with adoration filling them. "I love you. I love you as much as a person can love another. I do not wish to hold it inside anymore. I love you."

"I love you too." A sob wracked your chest as you responded without hesitation. The reflection in your eyes conveyed the devotion and tenderness he yearned for. It was as if you indeed saw the pieces of him but only sought to love him as he was, incomplete and perfect in every way in your eyes. As your husband.

Your heartbeat quickened as Anthony stepped close enough so that your noses practically brushed against one another—a familiar desire spreading from your heart to your chest.

Anthony cupped your face, his thumb tenderly stroking your cheek. Chills spread along your skin at the warmth of his touch. Unbridled affection flowed freely and filled the space between you. Your lips met for what felt like the first time; his other hand settled at your waist, prompting you closer to him and deepening the kiss. His lips moved against yours with a gentle urgency. It was as if nothing else mattered, the past becoming more of a distant memory the further you melted into him. There was only this moment. Anthony unwillingly pulled away, leaving your foreheads pressed against one another, his hair slightly disheveled from your fingers running through it, lips swollen and thoroughly kissed. A deep sigh escaped him before he spoke.

"I would marry you again if I could. Do it all over from the very beginning." His voice slightly wavered at the sentiment; it suddenly weighed on him how much he truly meant it. He wished nothing more than to turn back time and love you the way you deserve from the very beginning. Things would have been so different.

"Anthony, you do not need to embellish. We already married." A chuckle escaped you, a knowing smile gracing his lips. "What?"

"You called me Anthony." 

I do not consent to having my work reposted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. if anyone sees my work anywhere that is not ao3/tumblr or under any other username that is not whispersoftheton, it has been reposted without my permission

[azzo0]

Good Old Days

Summary: You fall asleep by the window one night and wake up to the doorbell ringing. You did not expect it to be Togame Jo of all people. After all, you guys had drifted apart some time ago.

Pairing: Togame Jo x fem!reader

Follows the anime. Not proofread </3

wc: 2.1k

You sat on the windowsill with a steaming cup of tea in hand, watching the lights below slowly turn on one by one. You had turned off the lights in the living room, leaving one table lamp on. This has been your evening routine for a while now, spending a few hours alone at your windowsill, big and cosy enough to put a cushion behind your back and a blanket on your legs with a teapot of green tea or milk tea on the small round table.

You watched the street down below come to life as the sky grew darker and the neon lights grew brighter. This was the hour you found this place most interesting. With the working day over, the pubs and bars thrummed with vibrance—not something you got to see during the day. Usually, there were a lot of people in yellow jackets with the Lion's Head logo on the back, but today, not a single one of them was to be spotted, given that they had challenged Bofurin to a fight.

You were supposed to be there in Ori, watching your team fight, but you didn't go. You glanced at the door where your bright yellow jacket hung on a cat hook. You spent most of your time in solitude these days, avoiding every member of the Lion's Head. Especially Togame Jo, your best friend. You hadn't stripped him of the title even though it had been a while since you talked to him.

Sometimes, he still approached you when he saw you. He'd push his tinted glasses down on that beautifully sculpted nose and walk towards you like he had all the time in the world, the thuck-thuck of his geta so annoyingly loud. He'd bend a little bit so he was face to face with you, his droopy emerald eyes and hypnotic voice managing to make your skin flush and your heart race even now. He'd tell you he hasn't seen you around and ask if you're avoiding the members because you're 'scared'. Each time, you'd roll your eyes and tell him you had better things to do.

Togame had changed a lot ever since Choji had become the top dog, which caused the whole of Lion's Head to undergo a drastic change. You'd been a part of the group long before Togame and Choji joined. This wasn't what you wanted to be a part of. You still missed the old Lion's Head, where you and Togame lazed on sunny rooftops together after training. You'd braid his hair for him, and he'd often stop by your place to get patched up, and before you knew it, you had fallen hard.

You sighed and rested your head against the window pane. It was raining. Speaking of rain, it was a rainy day sometime after Choji had become top dog when you and Togame drifted apart.

You stood under an umbrella, watching Togame throw punch after punch at the man on the ground. He got up at last and ripped the yellow jacket off the bloodied man. He silently made his way to you, discarding the jacket in a trash can. You raised the umbrella so he'd be sheltered from the rain. Noticing your efforts to go on tiptoes, he held the umbrella for you.

You watched the former Lion's Head member bleed on the ground unconsciously. Your fist clenched to your side as you went on staring until a pair of fingers snapped in front of your eyes.

"Head up in the clouds?" Togame asked. You shook your head and cleared your throat.

"I want to ask you something, Jo."

"Oh? Go on."

"Would you do the same if it was one of your friends or me?" You asked. He visibly froze. The pitter-patter of the rain grew heavier as you awaited his response, "Do you even care about the members anymore?"

Togame's grip around the handle tightened. His gaze averted away from your face and to the unconscious man. He spoke at last, "There is no place for the weak in Lion's Head. Why are you worried about it, though? You're strong enough, so don't worry your pretty little head-"

"What if I wasn't?" You interrupted, "You wouldn't hesitate to throw aside our friendship and all that we've built up, wouldn't you?"

You swore you saw a flash of hesitance strike his face. You were well aware he had the same feelings you held for him. It was obvious in the way he unconsciously jumped in front of you during fights, the way he looked at you for longer than he needed to, and the way he wandered to your apartment every night so you could pamper him and take care of his wounds.

"The same rules apply to everyone." He said firmly.

You nodded and stepped out of the umbrella's shelter. Togame made a move to follow after you, but you stopped him with a hand to his chest, "Sorry, Jo."

Without waiting for a response, you left him there. It wasn't that you were upset he'd kick specifically you out of the group if you messed up. You couldn't bear standing with this version of Togame. It was almost painful watching him give up his image for someone else.

You longed for the good old days when you'd sit on the sunny roof with colourful popsicles while sharing giggles and secret lovesick glances.

You had dozed off with the cold cup of tea in your hand when you heard the bell ring. You glanced at the glow-in-the-dark clock on the wall to see it was only eight. You got off the windowsill and set the cup on the table. You checked the peephole, surprised when you saw Togame of all people. He looked down at his feet with sad eyes, the yellow jacket bunched in his fist. He raised his hand to knock again but chose against it, turning around instead.

You unlocked the door and opened it before he went to the elevator. He slowly turned around, his shoulders slightly slouched. You took in his disheveled state. His hair was out of the braid he wore at all times, and his glasses were missing. He had shoe prints on his shirt from being kicked.

"Am I still welcome inside?" He asked.

You're always welcome here.

You stood aside and held the door open for him, "Come in."

Togame stepped into your cosy little apartment, taking his time observing what was new as he went over to the couch. He noticed the pillow and blanket on the windowsill. Emerald eyes shifted over to you in the kitchen, not separated by any wall, "If I knew you were asleep, I wouldn't have come."

"It's alright, I just fell asleep by the window." You replied with your back to him as you set a kettle on the stove for green tea.

He sat in silence, looking down at his feet, with the only sounds being metal and glass clinking. His entire body ached, but he didn't go home. Instead, he wanted to come see you. After the fight with Bofurin today, the Lion's Head would revert to what it once was, but he didn't want that to happen without you. It wouldn't be the same without you following him everywhere.

Your absence all this time weighed heavy on him. Sometimes, he'd catch you wandering around with your hands in the pockets of your jumper, but he usually didn't have the heart to approach you. If he did happen to approach, he wasn't able to say what he'd been wanting to. Where have you been? How are you? I miss you. I'm sorry. Let's hang out together again. Just like the good old days.

He heard you set a cup of green tea on the table and looked up to see you go to your bedroom, returning shortly with a little box he knew all too well. It was the cardboard box where you kept the first-aid supplies. He picked up the steaming cup of green tea to keep his hands from fiddling.

You sat on the floor by the coffee table and opened the flaps, taking out a roll of bandage and a bottle of antiseptic. You glanced at the bright yellow jacket thrown to his side and then up at his face.

"We lost?" You asked, averting your gaze again, taking his free hand to clean his knuckles with the cotton swab dipped in antiseptic. He hissed when you dabbed the antiseptic on his knuckles.

"We did." He replied, watching you patch his hands. Your moonlit features made his heart stir, and he wanted to make you look at him so he could study every inch of your face he had already memorised.

"But it was worth it." He added after some time.

You stopped and looked up at him, raising an eyebrow, "How so?"

He opened and closed his mouth, Adam's apple bobbing as he searched for words. He cleared his throat at last, "I won't be taking off jackets anymore. After the fight with Bofurin... I realised how much Choji was struggling, and instead of facing it, we brought misery to the entire group. We're going to fix things– Choji and I." He brushed your hair out of your face, fingers grazing your cheek. Your eyes widened at him, "We're going to gather everyone and apologise tomorrow. But before that, I wanted to talk to you."

"Yeah?" You forced yourself to look away from his deep green eyes and motioned to the hand he held the cup in. He shifted the cup to the other hand so you could clean his knuckles. His hand was warm to the touch, thanks to the teacup. From what he told you, you knew Lion's Head would go through a change again, this time a good one.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ruined the Lion's Head you loved." You could tell he tried not to let his voice crack, "To answer your question from back then... I've removed jumpers more than I can count, kicked away members more than I can count... but you," he cradled your face ever so gently in his shaking hands, "I could never do the same to you. I could never kick you away from me, even though that's what happened. I want to keep you close to me, right against my chest."

"Jo..." You whispered, your heart thumping wild at his words. You leaned into his touch and smiled softly, "I was never mad at you in the first place. I'm sorry for distancing myself."

He moved to the floor beside you, sitting on his knees. He shook his head, "I don't blame you for that. It's not your fault."

You wrapped your arms around his torso, taking him by surprise. Your arms tightened around him, your ear resting on his chest. You could hear his heartbeat slowly rise as his hands hovered behind you. He finally put his arms around you and pulled you closer, burying his nose in your hair. He missed the smell of your shampoo. He'd almost forgotten how small you were against his frame.

He cupped your cheek, making you look up at him, "Can I kiss you?"

You felt heat crawl up your neck, and you nodded, leaning closer, peering into his droopy olive eyes, his breath fanning your lips. His lips grazed yours in a just-there kiss. Like Togame, his kiss was lazy and slow, too, taking his time to feel your plush and warm lips. You pushed into him, fully pressing your lips against his. You were sitting in his lap now, with his hand slowly tracing up your spine.

Togame pulled away, out of breath from the brief kiss. He couldn't help but smirk at you as you stared at him through thick lashes, your skin warm to the touch. "Finally," he murmured.

"Finally." You smiled. He nuzzled under your neck, making you giggle when his eyelashes brushed your skin.

"Alright, more of this later," You smacked his arm playfully and got off his lap, "Go take a shower, and I'll see to the rest of your wounds after that. I have clothes that'll fit you."

"Thank you," he smiled.

Warmth buzzed under your skin as you watched Togame get up and make his way to the bathroom. The kiss made you feel woozy, and you put a hand on your chest to feel your heartbeat. You got your good old days back, and even better, you had the person who shone the brightest in your memories of the good old days.

[yumeka-sxf]

I've been waiting to see Yor's epiphany chapter in the anime and it did not disappoint! I felt like analyzing more than usual because I loved this episode so much~ 💖

I hope that any anime-only viewers who at this point still had the opinion that Yor's just ditzy/submissive, one-dimensional, or whatever negative traits associated with her, have changed their minds. Throughout the cruise arc we've seen so many sides of her character: how she's struggling to understand the exact reason why she's taking on these dangerous assignments when her original reason for doing it (supporting Yuri) no longer exists, how her internal desire to seek her own happiness - live a peaceful life like Olka - is at constant war with her diligence to complete her mission, her yearning to be with Loid and Anya and how sad she looks when she has to tell herself that they're just a cover-up family and she'll have to leave them without a word if anything drastic happens, and how much more confident she is when doing something she excels at - assassinating - yet still retaining her kind and polite demeanor (Unlike Twilight, who dons the mask of Loid Forger, Yor Forger is not a mask for Thorn Princess, at least not in terms of personality. So everything she says as Thorn Princess can be interpreted as her true feelings, including the now two times she's hesitated during fights because of the thought of having to leave the Forgers).

And, in the moment where she's facing death right in the eye, all the doubts she's had since getting this assignment culminate, not only causing the samurai assassin to get the upper hand, but causing her to take a deep, introspective look into her reason for fighting...if it's not for the same reason as the other assassins, what is it?

What's even more amazing is that these things about her character did not come out of nowhere just for the sake of a flashy climax. We saw in previous episodes that not only does she understands that being in the Forger family makes her happy, but most importantly, how she's lived her life only thinking of the happiness of others above her own. And what's most tragic is that, upon finally realizing that her original reason for being an assassin is gone (since Yuri no longer needs support) she's ready to die then and there...until she remembers Olka's words about wanting to live a peaceful life, which in turn makes her remember her core reason for becoming an assassin was to not only support Yuri, but to make the world he lives in all the more peaceful by eliminating the villains in it.

Despite how naive Yor is about many things (due to her upbringing), she's certainly not ignorant about the needless tragedies that exist in the world. And here is where she makes her decision to keep doing her assassinating, not because she enjoys killing people, but because the result of it will make the world a better place...because now, she has even more people whose happiness she desires to protect.

Even if she sacrifice her own happiness by leaving the Forgers, that's not as important to her as preventing tragedy from befalling her loved ones, or the world in general. And these thoughts are so similar to Twilight's reasons for becoming a spy! Coincidently, as Yor has these thoughts, she thinks of how Loid complimented this aspect of her personality way back when they first met...and the thought that the man who she trusts and respects so much would approve of her decision, gives her the final push to keep on going (I love that they reanimated this scene too and didn't just use the exact frames from episode 2).

So yeah, if anyone who wasn't sure of how much depth Yor's character has, I hope this episode shed a lot of light! This is the right way to make a character both cute/sweet but also a total badass who's strong on the outside as well as the inside.

(I will probably reword a lot of this for my upcoming Twiyor analysis posts but I couldn't wait until then, lol).

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Did Leon change or did he stay the same?

A character analysis by me because it’s 1AM and I can’t sleep.

I’d like to think Leon goes through an identity crisis throughout the course of RE4R and after RE2R.

Everywhere he went, he’s been told that he has stayed the same even though he believes he’s changed. This got me thinking two things about his character.

A) He’s not as self aware as he thinks he is. To him, maybe he’s changed because he’s had to go drastic changes in order to become the agent he is now. The extensive work that was put on him as well as the pressure to perform well probably made him believe he was not the same man he once was. He probably feels as if a part of his humanity was ripped away. We actually see his monologue in Vendetta where he states that when he was younger, he’s always wondered about what type of man he’d grow up to be. And to realize that the version of himself, the “future” version, is probably something that he wished he didn’t have to be. He wished things were different, he wished he was different.

B) A lot of people underestimate him and his sensibility. Leon is someone who’s always known what’s just. One of his prominent characteristics is probably a strong sense of justice and humanity. He’s the type of person that would save everyone even if it meant he’d have to sacrifice himself. He’s a very noble person and most people see this as a weakness, hence why Krauser thinks he’s too “soft” for the job. But I think otherwise, I think it’s a good thing that Leon is the way he is simply because he’s still holding on to a part of himself that he refuses to give up. It’s what makes him a good person despite his bloodied hands. He’s saved countless people but he’s also killed many to save others.

After being confronted by Ada and Krauser, I’d like to think he’s doubting himself.

“Have I really not changed?”

“What about rookie me?”

“Who was I before?”

But maybe there’s another reason. He hasn’t talked to Ada in six years and he hasn’t seen Krauser since Op. Javier. So that means it’s been a long time since he’s seen both. Maybe Ada and Krauser refuse to acknowledge that Leon did in fact change and want to keep a small fragment of what Leon was prior to their meetup in RE4R. Not because they underestimate him but because Leon is a symbol of what is right. Hence why Ada didn’t give Wesker the Amber and why Krauser was so willing to die at the hands of Leon.

Leon’s character is a complex character that is heavily influenced by others around him. But that doesn’t mean he’s letting himself be used as a carpet. I’d like to think that the cop inside him didn’t in fact die, instead it grew. Why does he keep pushing through even though he says he doesn’t want to keep fighting? It’s not just the government forcing him, it’s the cop Leon that’s telling him to do what’s right for the innocent lives that could be at stake.

Leon is a good man.

[bigification]

Gainers Roulette

It's a risky game played by men desperate enough to risk their bodies for a chance at a bigger life. Men come from far and wide to play a game of Gainer roulette, some come out strong and sexy, some aren't so lucky. Although the game isn't all luck, it has a way of punishing those it deems unworthy.

Six needles are loaded, four with a serum that increases muscle and testosterone in the body, and two with a serum that drastically increases age and fat in the body.

The first player is a young man who pulls up on a motorcycle. He learned how to ride a motorcycle so that he could join his dad's group, but now he just gets picked on for being young and skinny. Well regardless, him being skinny won't be a problem after this.

He takes the serum. Immediately his face starts to change. His young and smooth features become more ragged, his clean shaven face quickly grows thick black hairs giving him a bushy beard, and the hairs on his head fall out leaving him with a smooth bald head. At this point it's hard to tell if he's won or not. Aging and losing hair is a common sign of losing, but he did want to look older and tougher so it could be either.

Next his body started to rapidly grow. He grew taller and taller as his shoulders broadened and his chest grew two juicy pecs that burst out of his shirt. His flat stomach grew into a thick six pack with a small layer of fat covering them. His arms exploded with muscle, becoming large and defined. Hair started to grow all over his body, covering his chest, stomach, and arms, giving him a much tougher look.

Moving downward, his previously flat ass perked up and pressed firmly against his shorts. His legs thickened as a thick pelt of hair grew over them, and his feet grew a few sizes, busting out of his shoes. And finally, a large bulge formed in his tight shorts, just for good measure.

Looks like we have a winner. The man leaned against his motorcycle and looked down at his nearly naked body. He smiled before riding off.

Our next player arrives in a luxury car. These never go well, rich guys only have one thing money can't buy them, good looks. So they come here expecting to walk out strong and good looking, let's see how this goes.

An average looking guy in an expensive polo and a gold chain walk out of the car. Not exactly what I expected, but close enough. He appears to be on the phone, and he doesn't seem to be enjoying the phone call. He puts the caller on hold as he approaches and takes the shot without even saying a word to me.

The man's well kept hair quickly falls off his head as his facial features start to age. It's not looking good for him so far. His cheeks puff out as a couple of chins grow under his soft jawline.

His scrawny body bursts out of his expensive polo as his gut grows bigger and bigger. He is left with a big hairy beer gut hanging out of his ripped shirt. His chest soon follows, growing into a thick pair of man tits with cheap looking tattoos on them.

His arms and legs thicken with mostly fat as his hands become thick and pudgy. The man is left old, bald, and fat. This is what usually happens to the rich guys who come here. He resumes his phone call as if nothing happened before getting in his car and driving away.

The next player slowly walks up holding a cane. He is an elderly sheriff who had to quit his job due to his physical condition, but wants to work again.

The man takes the shot, and almost right away his back straightens as he grows taller. Most of the wrinkles on the man's skin disappear as his he grows a clean silver beard. His receded hairline grows back and his skin tans from a pale white to a healthy golden brown.

The man's chest perks up and his shoulders broaden, filling out his sheriff uniform. The fat in his stomach disappears, leaving his uniform hanging off of his pecs. His biceps tripled in size, filling with muscle until they were about to rip his sleeves. His ass perks up and his thighs thicken, filling out his pants.

The man stands tall, smiles and nods at me approvingly before leaving without a word.

Next player is a young man who pulls up on a bike. He says he's close to getting drafted into the football league of his dreams, but he just hasn't been able to put on the weight needed for his position. Well either way I'm sure he'll be beyond heavy enough.

He takes the shot and his body starts to fill out. His skinny arms grow large and strong and his flat chest plumps up into two defined pecs, bursting through his tiny shirt. His pudgy stomach tightens up into a barely visible six pack with a sizable layer of fat covering it.

His legs and his ass explode with muscle and fat, giving the young man the look of a superstar football player. The pressure in his shorts grows until they rip open in dramatic fashion, making his ass bounce as it's released. Finally his face fills out, matching the rest of his massive body.

It looks like we have another winner. He seems to come to after the transformation is complete, an embarrassed look takes over his face as he attempts to cover his dick with his hands. His hands are quite massive, but it would be futile to try to cover up the monster he's got packing down there.

I throw him a towel to cover up and he thanks me before biking off.

The next player is a middle aged man who shows up in a barely functioning mini van. He said he used to be an athlete but had to stop after a serious injury. Ever since he had his kids, he has gained a lot of weight and struggles to do any activities with his kids.

The man takes the shot, and similar to the sheriff from before, his back straightens as his height increases drastically. Within moments the small feeble man with a can has become a tall and imposing man. His height has made his shorts look like short shorts and his shirt look like a bra, exposing his hairy gut. This would not last long however, as the fat in his body rapidly started to drain. As it did, his body began to twitch as an immense amount of muscle started to grow in his body. His hulking gut became a rock hard six pack and his moobs became a juicy pair of pecs. The man's soft arms became solid and defined as his hands became thick and calloused. His legs became strong and sturdy, and his ass became round a perky instead of sagging like it did before.

The man's face slimmed down, making his double chin fade as a thick black beard grew over his face. His receding hairline also grew back a little bit, giving him a more youthful look. Finally, a thick pelt of hair grew all over the man's body. Though the transformation seemed very taxing on the man, and he ended up passing out.

He must have been 6"4 and at least 250 pounds, so dragging his body to a bed was no easy task. It didn't take long for him to wake up. He thanked me profusely before getting up and leaving in the minivan.

Our last player for today is a young man who shows up in a cop car. He approaches wearing a police uniform, he feels he is not being respected by the more senior police. He wants to be more intimidating and demand more respect, but something tells me that his co-workers aren't the only reason he wants to be more intimidating. Unfortunately for him, he has no idea that there is only one shot left and it is not a winner.

The man impatiently takes the shot. Almost immediately, the man's flat stomach distended outward into a beer belly. It grows and grows until rips through his police uniform, leaving him in a tight black undershirt. He is left with a thick ball gut that hangs out of his shirt. His once defined pecs grow into two soft man tits that lay on his gut. The fat in his chest has even forced his arms to lay further out from his body. Speaking of his arms, they plump up under a thick layer of fat, nearly ripping his sleeves in the process. Even his hands look fat, with fingers that look like stuffed sausages.

Lucky for the young man, his uniform pants seemed to be slightly too big for him, so they have enough room to store his new body. His ass explodes with fat, stretching his large pants to their limit. His thighs follow suit, filling his pants until they're about to burst.

Just when the transformation is about to end, it gets worse for the young man. His face becomes pudgier as a thick double chin forms on his neck. But as the fat filled his face, the stubble on his chin went from brown to white. The hair on his head followed suit, becoming a pale white colour as his hairline slightly receded. Wrinkles started to form on his face as he began to rapidly age. From his mid twenties, to forties, all the way to his sixties in mere moments. His body started to sag under its own weight as blemishes formed on his skin.

Police equipment was scattered across the floor as the man was left in a tiny black undershirt and pants that barely fit. He flexed, making his shirt ride up even more, and smiled as he looked at his body. It seems as though he is unaware of how different his body was mere moments ago. He chuckled and states that the station will have no choice but to respect a man of his stature, and besides, he's definitely old enough to get some seniority. He picks up his ripped uniform off the ground and comments that it must have shrunk in the wash and that he needs to get a new one. He thanks me before squeezing into his police car and driving off

[seneon]

ESCORT ──── shinji hirako x fem! reader. ib chase atlantic's escort. fluff + mentions of alcohol. wc of 600+

thinking about captain shinji hirako who would most definitely bribe or pay or do whatever it takes just to have you in the fifth division. he'd be so desperate about it, even go on his knees just to recruit you into the squad that he takes charge of. and for what reason?

the mere sole reason that you miraculously stole the heart of the captain while he came down to shin’o academy to demonstrate kenjutsu for the students. you just so happened to be one of the students that the hirako had to personally teach.

as beautiful as you can be and as bright your smile can shine, it only took a few hours for the blond-haired male to fall under your spell. but you never even put a spell on him in the first place. all you did was breathe, exist, and learn as shinji teaches.

as pathetic as the man can be, he doesn't ever show it. in fact, he does the opposite. he'd go all “oh look. it's the student girl whom i taught that sucks at swordsmanship.” like bro you did not just get on your knees to beg yamamoto to put the ‘student girl’ in your division…

he wants you to work for him and be under his wing, so he watch whatever you do. even better if he's seeing you make such a drastic change and progress ever since your academy days. not that he's a weirdo captain or anything that fancies a student of his, but your ages weren't that much of a difference. in fact, shinji is the one who ended up becoming a captain at such a young and admirable age.

“i can give you love for free, y/n…” shinji said during one messy night where the word sober left his vocabulary. all on his mind are fuzzy images of you.

“trust me, sir, she'd appreciate your love one hundred percent,” a voice said as they took away the bottle of sake in their captain's hands. the man simply looked up at the figure and looked back down, snuggling his drunken face into his arms. “you're kinda... pretty.. not any more beautiful than y/n though.”

“woah sir, thanks for the compliment. i honestly agree too, she's very cute, captain.”

the hirako glared at his subordinate who's helping him get up from the table so he can finally leave the pub with some guidance from someone of his barracks. “you keep her name outta your mouth, pink!”

“it's punk, sir. not pink.”

“shut up. only y/n can tell me what's right or wrong,” shinji's head wobbled just as his division member sighed and draped his long arms around their shoulders. they were oddly smaller than the fifth division captain.

“come on, captain. time to go home. y/n wishes that you return home safely.”

the voice of his subordinate is gentle and soft, so similar to his crush’s voice. he couldn't even tell what is going on right now, but he just lets his subordinate escort him home, not really in the correct state to think of anything else. although, his squad member uttering the name y/n made him all sweets and butterflies on the inside.

after such a night, the man wakes up in a frenzy, struggling to remember whatever happened last night and however in the world he ends up in his soft comfy futon without ever remembering how he got back into his bed.

he stares at a bone china vase for a few good minutes, attempting to search and dig for anything that has been buried by the headache that he currently has. but the more he stared at the reflection of the vase, the more he caught something at the corner of his eyes.

shinji shot his head at the few bags of items that laid beside his futon, a note of instructions on the items written down. he knows this writing. he out of anyone would've recognised this immediately. it belonged to you.

then a flash of memories became visible in his vision.

“THAT WAS Y/N?!?!?”

note. requested by @imaginingbleach. tumblr murdered me on the inside when i lost your request ask... i'll write an aizen piece soon trust

© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[katzu919]

okau so this idea randomly came to mind so if requests r still open may i request a one of tartaglia’s little brother whos the reader. The reader even being younger than tartaglia he could be around (18-20), he ended up falling into the abyss like tartaglia, it felt as if it was years for reader in the abyss but was maybe only a couple hours. tartaglia finds out about this and hunts down his brother and comforts him since he knows what its like in the abyss. idk if this makes sense but take ur time :) , ive seen ur page floating around for a while now and just ended up following u lmao

call of the abyss

Ajax had returned to Snezhnaya after being abroad for work. Ajax’s brother, Y/n had just turned eighteen and Ajax got to celebrate it just a few days late. Y/n and his friends went out to celebrate him finally becoming an ‘adult’.

“Oh come on!” One of his friends nudged his arm. “The night barely began!” His friends laughed. They had been hanging out in an old fort they’ve had since their younger years. The old building somehow surviving the harsh weather of Snezhnaya for multiple years.

“I promised my brother I wouldn’t stay out too late so we could hang out. And he’s rarely home and I don't want to waste this time I have with him.” He replied as I stood up from the wood plank he was sitting on.

“It’s fine man, we get it.” His other friend replied. They sat higher up, looking down on Y/n. “You good to walk home by yourself? I think we’re going to stay out.” Y/n nodded his head and crossed his arms, and annoyed look crossed his face.

“Yes I can. I’ve walked the path many times, I don’t even live far.” He huffed as he made his way out of the fort. His friends laughed at his reply as he slowly made his way towards his home.

The snow crunching beneath his feet as the wind started to pick up a bit. Y/n groaned as he pulled his coat tighter to himself. Snow started to blow up around him making it hard to see anything but a few feet in front of him. His breath started to fasten as panic set in a bit. How did the weather change so drastically so quickly? The wind pushed him around as his surroundings started to become less familiar. Did he get turned around? He swore he never changed the direction he was walking in. Did the wind slowly push him in another direction? His breath started to become more panicked but before he could take another step the floor fell beneath his feet. All at once he was falling into darkness, the wind and snow no longer anywhere to be seen or heard.

Absolutely silent.

When Y/n stopped falling he hit the ground with a groan. He didn’t know how long he was falling or even how he survived the fall. He slowly got up, his hands shaking a bit as he slowly took in his surroundings. Blue and purple surrounded him, stars littered the dark sky above him. Where was he and how was he going to get out? The hairs on the back of Y/n’s neck rose as he heard the faint sound of something making its way over. He quickly stood up, his legs and arms shook as he did so. He pushed through as he slowly ran away from whatever seemed to make its way over, not too keen on meeting the inhabitants of this strange land.

-

Y/n wasn’t sure how much time passed since he fell down here. Time seemed to move differently than it did back in Snezhnaya. Was he even in Teyvat anymore? He didn’t know. It felt like months he’s been here but his body didn’t seem to reflect that. He hadn’t felt hungry, thirsty, or tired since he fell, however long ago that was now.

The creatures that roamed this land were much different from the ones he saw up in Snezhnaya. They could use the elements without visions, or at least he didn’t think they had any. He never stayed around long or close enough to see any so as far as he was concerned they didn’t. He was determined to stay undetected as long as he could, not sure how long it would be before he could make it back to Snezhnaya, or if he even could. But sadly his presence was eventually found by the creatures and beings from this place. He ran and ran, seeking a place to hide and wait for them to stop searching for him. Y/n was even more cautious now, looking over his shoulder constantly. Scared what would happen if they happened to get their hands on him.

Oh god, his family. How long has it been? Did they think he was dead? lost to the snow, frozen somewhere? Attacked by some creature? His heart ached at the thought of what his family must be going through.

Y/n slowly curled up, trying to silent his sobs. He just wanted to go home. And as if Celestia heard his wish, he felt the cold wind of Snezhnaya blow against his back. Snow falling onto his head. He lifted his head, his tired eyes open to see the white snow that covered the land. A sob broke through him as he quickly got up but quickly froze when he heard the sound of snow crunching under someone’s feet.

-

Y/n was supposed to be home hours ago. Ajax looked at the clock, a pit formed in his stomach. Something was off. He got up from where he was sitting in the living room and walked to the front door. He grabbed his coat and left the house silently, not wanting to disturb his sleeping family.

The air was quiet as he made his way towards where Y/n was supposed to be with his friends. The farther Ajax walked, the pit in his stomach grew deeper. Something about the air seemed off. Seemed to set off warning bells in his head.

The abyss. It all came rushing back. Ajax hurried his steps, hoping what he feared was not true. That you were safe and sound. Just as his panic started to grow more, he saw a figure sitting in the snow. The familiar figure stopped all the thoughts in his head as he stopped and stared. He hesitated for just a moment before he started to rush in his brother’s direction.

Y/n flinched when Ajax got close, his heart breaking. The fear in his brother's eyes as they might. Ajax stopped in his tracks, his heart felt like it broke into a million pieces. Ajax slowly kneeled down and opened his arms, his brother only hesitating for a moment before throwing himself at Ajax. Y/n craved the touch of someone after being alone for so long. He sobbed into Ajax should as he shushed him.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright. I got you.” Ajax whispered into his brother's hair. Anger started to form in Ajax. Why did his brother have to go through this? What did he do to deserve falling into the abyss?

Ajax slowly stood up with his brother in his arms. Carry him like he did when Y/n was just a baby. He rubbed Y/n’s back in soothing motions as he slowly started to walk home.

“It’s okay, we’ll get through this.” Ajax whispered to him as they walked away from the pit in the ground, oozing with an evil that Ajax hated with all his heart.

Hello! I kinda forgot how to write while writing this… hope it’s not noticeable. I’m also trying to like my writing style and be happy with it and not just quitting when i’m not instantly in love with it :p. i also write this in one sitting… anywhooo i also set up a ko-fi but do not feel like you have to send anything!! my writing is completely free and for fun (as much fun as trying to write with writers block is). Im not to sure how the abyss works even after reading through the wiki so i probably got something wrong but who cares and im also behind in the main story quest…. i’m not actually sure if people reads these notes but sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Sorry to bother ya again, but my brain is literally on overdrive with this show and this clown who hws beckme my first kin and lives in my head rent free as she quietly sits there with a cup of hot chocolate and a warm blanket like she deserves, buuut

What if the gang found out the reader could abstract at will, including restricting it to certain parts of their body, ooor what if they found out you were a shapeshifter when you accidentally sneeze and turn into Wario or something

TADC cast x reader who can shapeshift!

i have returned from eating my silly dinner (sweet n sour chicken with rice!) it was very scrumptious i went ahead and did the shapeshifter idea since i feel that would be more fun to write (we can pretend they can still shift to mimic an abstracted body shhh) these ones are a little short i hope thats okay!

CAINE:

its not totally unheard of people getting unique abilities when they enter the digital world, its just not very common (this is a hc!), so when caine found out you could manipulate your appearance he wasn't all that surprised! i think he was more intrigued more than anything, because its not everyday you see something like that! he would be absolutely thrilled if you shifted into him; both from being amused of it and this man probably loves himself as much as someone can

will try to pop you if you mimic bubble, kind of feels bad for a second but your disguise was just so so convincing! say, were you by any chance an actor in your past life in the real world? you totally had him fooled!

POMNI:

pomni would be a little freaked out, especially if you just. suddenly sneezed and OH! now it looks like you're abstracting in front of everyone! first response is to run away before the transformation is complete, but when she notices no one else is freaking out (ragatha even blesses you!) shes more than a little confused

you offer to demonstrate your abilities to her, but she probably politely turns you down; she understands... for the most part... really its mostly just her trying to become used to the digital world as a whole

RAGATHA:

ragatha makes sure that you know that she thinks its cool; and as long as you're not morphing into a giant bug shes encouraging you to hone in on that cool power of yours! compliments whatever form you choose for the day

oh? you changed your hair color! she likes it, the new look is amazing on you! oh? you made yourself a little taller and gave yourself some new characteristics! points out nearly every detail shes noticed, no matter how small. ragatha pays attention, ragatha cares

JAX:

tries to drag you off to the dark side (ie being a menace to the others), whether or not you agree to be his partner in crime and 'use your power for evil' is fully up to you!

makes random requests to see just how far you can take your shapeshifting, usually listing off things at lightning speed to see if you can catch up.. if your shapeshifting takes a toll on you (like lets say it takes energy out of you) he might let up when he realizes how tired and pale you look all of a sudden.. at least for now

KINGER:

speedrunning to kinger for a moment before i forget this idea but imagine shapeshifting into him and hes just totally confused. leads to him making weird movements and you copying him (he thinks caine added a new mirror in the middle of the room for a solid minute before you break the illusion)

unless you have a set 'base form' hes going to keep thinking youre a new person if you drastically alter your appearance.. which, fair, since i think if you made yourself look unrecognizable, people would think youre a new person entirely. has probably introduced himself to you multiple times before realizing it was you

kinger gets a technical third bullet point but its not fluff. i just remembered the scene from steven universe where amethyst shapeshifts into rose in front of greg. but instead its kinger and instead of rose is queener/queenie. i hurt my own feelings. im gonna stew over this now

ZOOBLE:

honestly if you look just a mixmatched as them they would be into it and say you look cool. i had an idea that zooble has spare pieces and sometimes switches out their pieces for a new look, so imagine the two of you make matching looks or something, i think that would be cool

otherwise i dont think zooble would treat you any differently than if you were friends and couldnt shapeshift... though... i will admit, they think its funny when jax annoys you and change yourself in order to get him to back off. serves him right!

GANGLE

imagine she asks you to be a model for her art.. asking you to do different poses as well as different figures so she can better her craft. i absolutely love the idea of gangle being really into art, and this idea is just so cute to me

you have probably shapeshifted into her and pretended to be her when she needed someone to stand up for her... imagine how jarring it would be to see 'gangle' snap back at jax after he does something particularly mean

[blurbfics]

There'd Better Be a Mirrorball | Azriel x OFC [part three]

Summary: Girls' brunch!

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: swearing, description of scars, light self-deprecation in reference to past abuse (this sounds harsher than it is, really), Gwyn crushing on Azriel, accidental outing of someone else, piercings, Cassian hurting someone's feelings

Minors, do not interact

A/N: im so happy this story has gotten some attention! i was half expecting it to just go in the internet void but if only one person is enjoying then thats enough for me. enjoy some light gay content

part two

"'Cause you're just a man

It's just what you do

Your head in your hands as you color me blue."

Lana Del Rey, Norman fucking Rockwell

“-And he smiled at me! I really think he liked it,” Gwyn gushed, popping a blueberry into her mouth before reaching over for the cinnamon butter to spread over her slice of toast.

“How can you tell?” Eowyn asked curiously, licking at the muffin crumbs in the corner of her mouth, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him show emotion before.”

Nesta and Gwyn laughed at that, both nodding their heads. 

“I guess you just have to pay attention,” Gwyn replied mildly, shrugging.

It had been two days since her venture out into the city and all had been exactly the same as it was before, other than the minuscule shift between the Illyrians and herself. It wasn’t a drastic change, or anything particularly noteworthy for any other person, but considering the fact that the only people Eowyn spoke to on a daily basis consisted of Clotho, Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie, with the exception of a priestess here and there that either delivered a message from Clotho or asked where she’d left a parchment, she did, of course, take notice.

While Azriel remained as emotionless and distant as he’d always been, she’d developed somewhat of an awareness of him. It was random and rather irritating to have that small sliver of consciousness of his nearness, especially when she was supposed to be partaking in the Valkyrie breathing exercises they practiced during their breaks from the grueling training, but for some reason, she simply knew when he was there. To her right, only a short distance away, or towards the far left corner of the ring — she was even half convinced she could feel when he approached, like some kind of echo-location. And then there were the times where she’d discreetly glance at him, from under her veil, unnoticed by anyone looking at her, only to find his eyes already set on her.

As if feeling her gaze, he was always quick to look away, in such a smooth manner she couldn’t quite be certain he was looking at her at all.

And then there was Cassian, who had already become more familiar with her the more time she spent with Nesta, and who had taken a particular liking to calling her ‘Wynnie.’ She’d made sure not to correct him on the name again, not wanting to encourage him to use it even more, but she had already accepted her fate and knew there was no going back. He’d been just so boisterous and happy when he spoke to her, slapping a heavy hard hand on her shoulder as greeting and had begun a light sort of teasing with her that it just felt wrong to deny him something so small.

Finally carrying out her promise to set up a luncheon, Nesta had the girls join her in the House of Wind kitchen to eat after a particularly grueling day's training. Emerie had mysteriously disappeared soon after training was over.

“Is Emerie not joining us?” Eowyn wondered, glancing at the door once more, half expecting the Illyrian female— or anyone, really— to come in any second, still feeling slightly panicked at the thought of anyone seeing her. They'd been eating for a while now and the Valkyrie had yet to appear.

She had been reluctant to join her friends for lunch, not because she didn’t want to join them, but rather out of diffidence, for their reactions to her unveiled face or the questions they might ask.

But Gwyn, like the majority of the priestesses, had already seen her uncovered face and knew better than to ask her about her past, Emerie was currently gone and Nesta? She had barely blinked at her, eyes going immediately to her nose instead.

Her sharp gray blue eyes had barely scanned her face in a fraction of a second before they focused on the center of her face, “what the fuck is that?” Her eyes widened slightly in a very un-Nesta like way, “on your nose?” She added quickly, not even giving Eowyn enough time to take offense or feel remotely ashamed.

But Nesta’s blunt question caused her mind to go blank for a second. Her nose?

She had let out a tuh sound of incredulity, “I’m showing you my fucked up face and you’re asking about the jewelry on my nose?”

“Is that what it is?” Nesta tilted her head to the side, “I’ve never seen anything like it. As for your face, I see nothing wrong with it. I’d say you even give Elain a run for her money.”

Something had ignited inside Eowyn then. Not the tinge of fraternal irritation Cassian had drawn out of her by calling her by a long forgotten nickname, but by the insinuation that she— with the jagged distorted scars pulling from the corners of her mouth, one ending in the outer center of her cheek, while the other extended longer and higher, almost to her cheekbone— could even compare to the flawless beauty and unsullied brightness that was Elain Archeron.

But the feeling itself— the sharp anger that rose within her was immediately thwarted by the recognition of the emotion itself. How long had it been since she’d felt something so powerful, so passionate, something that was once so familiar? Something that had been her second nature? Had it truly been over a century since she’d been anything but detached and apathetic?

Gwyn had been quick to come to her defense, although for an entirely different reason than what she assumed. “It's a great honor to bear jewelry on that part of the nose, known as the septum” she lit up, pleased to have the opportunity to share her knowledge, “septums are only bestowed upon those that have dedicated some of their eternal fae life to their studies.”

Septganiums, Eowyn mentally corrected, but figured it didn’t really matter. 

Nesta squinted at her, a curious human characteristic that Eowyn found quite endearing. “But you have two rings.”

“They symbolize every seventy-year cycle, based on the location and the name itself, the sept-um. It’s also kind of a joke… to pierce that which is always buried in a book.”

And that was that.

Nesta had assured them before they joined her that they had the house to themselves, as Cassian and Azriel had business with Rhys in the River House and knew better than to disturb her and her friends in their private time.

“She left with Mor,” Nesta answered her question with a smirk. Gwyn gasped excitedly and waved her toast around.

“No way! She finally mustered up the courage to talk to her!”

But Eowyn’s eyes only widened, holding her tea halfway up to her lips, “Mor was here?”

She didn’t miss the look Nesta shot her. Damn, she really needed to learn how to interact with people again. 

“Mhm, she spent the night last night,” Nesta smirked, “I overheard her ask Emerie if she wanted her to winnow her back to Windhaven.”

“No wonder she didn’t even bother telling us she wasn’t joining us for lunch,” Gwyn chuckled lightly, eyes alight with delight.

“Has Emerie been interested in Mor a long time?” Eowyn asked, the words feeling strange in her mouth.

“Oh yeah, she’s been in love with her forever,” Gwyn giggled and rolled her eyes, tossing her hair over her shoulder exaggeratedly, “talking about how beautiful she is, how perfect her hair falls, how she wished she was interested in females and would just look-"

“She is,” the words were out of her mouth before she could take them back and for a moment, the sardonic little demon in her mind that often mocked her and watched amusedly as she made a fool out of herself, whispered that perhaps her captors weren’t entirely in the wrong when they'd quite literally sewn her mouth shut at an attempt to keep her from berating them so much.

She cringed, face aflame as Gwyn and Nesta turned their focus to her, wearing different looks of scandalized surprise and curious dark amusement respectively.

“Wha-“

“Whe-“

“Forget I said anything,” she hissed at them, shaking her head ashamedly, eyes falling to the table, “I-I don’t know if Mor is out to the world like that and I’m not going to be responsible for-“

“Don’t worry about it, we won’t say anything,” Nesta assured nonchalantly in a way Eowyn truly did not trust for a second.

“Really,” Gwyn nodded encouragingly, noticing Eowyn’s reluctance, “we won’t say anything.”

Eowyn thought about it.

“Sorry, that’s not enough. I need you both to swear,” she looked at them both seriously.

Nesta scoffed, “I’m not striking a bargain with you because you let it slip that Mor eats pus-“

“That’s exactly why you have to do it. No offense, but you’re pretty hottheaded Nesta, there’s no knowing when you might just fuck up as I did now without meaning to hurt anyone, but what if you do? And Gwyn, I-I just-“

“You’re a busybody,” Nesta agreed, if a bit reluctantly, as she turned to Gwyn, “you’re going to want to tell Emerie to help her out but that’s not for us to share.”

“Exactly,” Eowyn breathed in relief, “I’m not asking for anything drastic, I’m just thinking that we don’t talk about Mor’s business unless she or Emerie announce it first, does that sound alright?”

“And what do I get from this bargain?” Nesta smirked, glancing at Gwyn who grinned back, looking almost mischievous in a very un-Gwyn like manner. “You tell us what happened between you and Mor.”

“You two are busybodies,” Eowyn rolled her eyes, “but fine, it’s a bargain.”

Eowyn couldn’t help but chuckle when the girls jumped in place in surprise, if not for the smallest pinches of pain, as there, in mirroring sides of their elegant fae pointed ears sparked two pieces of jewelry.

The house, ever so attentive, provided a small hand mirror for each of them to inspect their new singularly pierced ears.

“Fascinating,” Gwyn gushed, prodding her gold ring lightly.

“I was expecting a tattoo,” Nesta admitted, head tilted as she inspected the small silver jewelry piece, wrapped around the cartilage of her ear, “but I kind of like this better.”

“That’s an Illyrian tradition, right?” Eowyn licked a bit of jam off her finger.

Nesta nodded but then her eyes sharpened with glee, “you bargained a dirty little story, Wynnie.”

Beyond amused, Eowyn felt just a fraction— just the smallest hint of her old self— possess her body once more, that same spirit driving her to glance down at her plate in amusement as she glided her index finger over the sweet confiture before raising her gaze to look at them innocently from under her eyelashes as she brought her finger up to her tongue, “you never specified when, Nes.”

Their jaws dropped.

"Oh."

"Wynnie, I swear to the-"

“Woah, what is going on in here?” Cassian’s voice boomed through the luncheon setting the house had so lovingly crafted for them. “It smells like a female pleasure house in here.”

"You're not supposed to be here," Nesta scowled at her mate.

"Over a dozen rooms in this house and you pick the kitchen?" he huffed but then stopped and eyed them warily, “seriously, what's with the scent on you? Is it because I’m here or were you dirty females reading smut again?”

His statements, neither of which were true, caused Eowyn to genuinely laugh, if only lightly, which brought Cassian’s attention to her. She lost her grin when she saw his eyes flicker over her face, down to her scars, and almost laughed again at the clearly drastic differences between the mated pair.

She braced herself for the comment.

“Huh. Never noticed you had those septganiums, Wynnie— or should I say, Maestress Wynnie,” he spoke matter-of-factly, saying no more on the simple statement before reaching towards the center of the table and grabbing a handful of bacon.

She blinked at him. Perhaps the Mother truly knew what she was about when it came to these two.

Deciding that she wouldn’t care if he didn’t either, she stepped out of her comfort zone and left herself uncovered. Truthfully, the main reason she even covered herself was mostly out of habit now, for the comfort of others who might feel any disgust or objection to seeing her healed wounds, as some of the priestesses did. 

Eowyn would never forget the day, in her early days of exploration in the library, when she caused a priestess to fall into a fit of panicked breaths, clutching at her chest because the sight of Eowyn’s scars had triggered a memory of her attacker, who bore the same scars.

Eowyn knew it wasn’t her they were rejecting, but the fact that her own exposed trauma could trigger such a disconcerting response had been a penetrating blow to her psyche.

“Cassian, did you see Azriel’s bronze blade?” Gwyn lit up again, still riding the high from having interacted with the surly Shadowsinger that morning after training.

“Yeah, I saw it at the River House,” the General chortled, shoving a handful of berries into his mouth, “I told him to stop letting Mor get him shit he doesn’t like and won’t really use.”

There was a pregnant pause, the space suddenly devoid of air as if the house itself was holding its breath. Gwyn’s chair scraped the floor as she stood, eyes bright with tears. Saying nothing, she simply stepped away from the table and rushed out of the room.

“Good job,” Nesta glared at him, standing up to follow after her.

Eowyn stood up as well, eyes following Gwyn in concern, and despite it clearly being Cassian’s fault for opening his big mouth, she couldn’t help the guilt that bit at her stomach because she knew, she knew, she knew, the blade was not right for him. The color, the length, the feel, of it had been all wrong but she had decided to ignore her nosy little inner voice, reminding herself that those closest to the Shadowsinger would clearly know him better than her. Who was she to him but just another one the many neophytes?

“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to her,” Nesta barely grazed her shoulder with a hand before she was out the door, leaving Cassian and Eowyn alone in the fancy tea luncheon.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” Cassian grimaced, mouth still full of bacon and sweet biscuits.

But Eowyn only quirked a brow at him and began to collect her things. As she went to pull her veil over her face, he spoke again. “You really don’t have to wear that around us, you know? I mean, you do whatever you want, but I just want to make sure you know we don’t see you any differently for any scars you may have. All of us have our own share of them.”

But she did have to wear it, if not for her own comfort than that of others, but she decided against saying so.

“Have you seen scars like mine?” She asked instead, finding herself suddenly curious.

He nodded, “I’ve seen all kinds of scars. If you ever see battle, which I hope you don’t, you’ll see plenty of scars worse than your own.”

Worse.

Her grip on the back of her chair tightened at his brief dismissal. Knew, logically, that he intended to soothe what he assumed were physical insecurities, but that ultimately felt like a disregard to the pain she'd endured to only leave such scars.

She nodded stiltedly, “right. Good afternoon, General.”

“Aw Wynnie, not you too!” He called out after her but she was already out the door.

part four

taglist: @lilah-asteria @a-courtof-azriel

[scintillasofbeomgyu]

⟢ to swallow a star | c.bg

pairing: wizard!beomgyu x apprentice!f!reader. genres: fluff, romcom, fantasy. wc: 1,7k. warnings: this is so silly and unedited 💀. an: i was trying to make a point with the last paragraph but my brain isn’t working, but i am a howl girlie so just pretend u get it 🤣 found the last photo on pinterest with no credits, so credit to the original artist 🫶🏻

it is late afternoon down by lilac lane. the spring sunlight douses the cottage in gold, lighting up the grassy hills and fields, glittering off a nearby rushing creek. it allows warmth to seep in through the windows.

normally, on a cozy sunday such as this, you would be curled up on the soft upholstery armchair in the sitting room, with tabby purring in your lap and a volume of the Wizard Howl’s Why One should Not Swallow Stars series between your fingers. But today you were not, and it vexes you greatly to think of it. rather, you are standing on the tips of your toes, leaning over the sink, to squint through the kitchen window.

a great deal of time had passed since you saw the Wizard Beomgyu, under whom you were serving an apprenticeship. he had disappeared into the fields behind the cottage earlier that very afternoon, promising to teach you a new charm once he had returned. and this promise had pleased you.

for the first few weeks in his care, you and beomgyu had gotten along remarkably well. he would teach you spells and enchantments, you would prepare meals and you would share chores and tending to the cottage equally. in your free time you would tag along on his jobs in town, or you would read and he would paint.

but in the next few weeks that took you up to the current third month at the cottage, his behavior had changed drastically. the good-natured, occasional prankster of a man had reverted to a sulking, misbehaving teenager who had not taught you a thing in days.

so the thought of his unhappiness being cured and him now having the time to teach you, enlivened the witch in the exasperated nurse you had become. but that excitement had long since met its end. and as the clock struck five o’clock, your blood boiled.

a flash of green sweeps through the open window and you drop onto your heels. tabby lifts her head from where she had sat napping between the potted plants near you on the sink, one eye opening slowly to follow the squawking bird.

“toto,” you say, relieved to see the wizard’s familiar. you follow him into the sitting room, where he glides around once more before taking his perch. “where have you been? where is your master?”

he squawks. “miss (y/n), master requests your presence at poppy hill.”

“poppy hill?” you say in surprise, “i thought he was in the fields. is something the matter?” then your eyes shine, “is it time for my lesson at last?”

toto lets out a nervous squawk. “you should take your leave before last light, miss.”

“will you guide me to him, toto?” you ask politely. the parrot nods his head before hopping from his perch and sailing through the kitchen window once more.

you tighten your boots quickly, pausing only to check on tabby. “are you coming, girl?”

her countenance was such that, if she were a person, you’d imagine she would sigh unenthusiastically. but she nevertheless hopped off and ran after you at your heels.

you follow toto deep into the fields and up onto poppy hill where the Witch Karina grew and nurtured her genus of wild flowers. it pales you to imagine he had spent the entirety of his afternoon here, but you perk up when toto leads you down the windward side of the hill.

you come to a stop as you find the Wizard Beomgyu seated amongst red common poppies, the last light catching his features and making them glow. the gentle breeze brushes through his long, golden brown hair as he soaks it up. when the light disappears behind the mountains at last, toto settles atop his head and his eyes flutter open. he greets toto with a smile, then turns to you and his eyes light up. you gulp.

“(y/n)!” he says, climbing to his feet. as his hands clear the grass and dirt from his trousers, he starts toward you and continues, “i’m glad you could make it. i was just talking to karina and—”

you fix your hands on your hips and a severe expression on your face. he stops, fear in his eyes. you march toward him and he shrieks. “where have you been! you promised you would teach me today, beomgyu! what is the meaning of this!” you say, poking a finger into his chest.

“i was—”

“i have been patient! so patient with you these weeks and you go and leave me at noon until evening! what have you to say for yourself, sir!”

his frown morphs into a smile and you are simply flabbergasted. but before you can berate him further, he takes your hand into his gently. he presses his lips to your knuckles and then rubs his thumb over them gently.

“i have left you? why, i could never do such a thing my dear,” he says and your face burns red.

“wha– wai– i beg your pardon!” you exclaim. but he maintains his hold on your hand and leads you further down the hill until you reach the middle of the slope. “do you think you can treat me like those swooning ladies in town!”

the sky is now dark and the stars are twinkling above, the moonlight shimmering silver against the blades of grass beneath your feet. you try and use the fragrance of the flowers and the earth to distract you from how warm and soft his hand feels, but then he takes your other hand and pulls you toward him.

“there is going to be a meteor shower tonight.” he says excitedly, as if it explains anything. but you are much too distracted by his closeness and his touch and his prettiness to argue. “i have planned it all with Karina. she will—“

you finally manage to yank your hands from his. “i do not care to be in your presence now, sir. you refuse to explain your behavior! i am your apprentice, you are supposed to teach me. if our arrangement— if my company is not to your liking anymore simply say so and I will take my leave.”

you start your walk back up the hill, which, being now by your full senses, proved to be a lot more taxing than the journey down it. it only aggravates you more. but you gather your dress in your hands and push on. he rushes after you.

“i will swallow a star!”

you stop in your tracks. you turn to him. “what?”

“i will swallow a star,” he repeats, folding his arms across his chest with a resolved expression on his face. “so that i may compete with that pretty boy you like so much.”

you blink. “compete? with that pretty boy? who– The Wizard Howl? Pendragon?”

he does not answer, but turns his face up to the night sky with a pout. your jaw drops in absolute bafflement. then you burst out laughing. his cheeks turn pink.

“oh, beomgyu,” you sigh, taking his face into your hands and turning it to you. “howl’s books are about why we should not contract deals with demons for power; his own autobiography. and you are a powerful wizard of your own accord, why should you need to be like him?”

toto squawks. “that is what i told him, Miss.”

“you shut up,” he snaps, swatting his familiar away. when your hands drop from his face, he returns them to their place and he leans into your touch, still pouting. “but you like him so much. you’re always reading those things and talking to tabby and mrs rochester from the bakery about him.”

you grin, a blush glowing in your cheeks. “beomgyu, the wizard howl is a happily married man with a sweet two-year old son. the story of his life is remarkable to me, so I read about him.”

he stills. “really?”

you drop your head and giggle. when you look up again, he is watching you with a look in his eyes that makes your chest flutter.

“and what about you?” you say, fixing your hands on your hips again. “what were you doing all day with Miss Karina?”

he perks up. “oh! i spent the afternoon trying to convince her to let us borrow her field for the evening. she agreed on the condition that i promenade with her in town tomorrow.”

you glare at him and smack his shoulder. “And you said yes? i cannot believe you! courting couples promenade together! i—“

he hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you flush against his chest. “i am a cunning wizard, darling. i may have pulled one on her,” he shrugs, “besides. how could i dream of courting anyone else when you are right here.”

then his eyes flit to your lips, asking, and when you nod, he takes them between his own in a sweet kiss.

when you break apart your breath is shaky and you think that if he should remove his arm from your waist you would fall straight to the ground. he smirks, as if he reads your mind.

“sh- she’s going to curse you once she figures it out. d-do you not know of howl and the witch of the waste?”

at that moment the meteor shower begins, like glittering diamonds shooting across the heavens. you stare up in awe. tabby meows and rubs her head against your legs, while toto perches on beomgyu’s shoulder.

he gently takes your chin between his fingers and draws your attention back to him.

“do you know of the wizard beomgyu and the apprentice who stole his heart?” he says softly, bringing your face closer and closer and closer. “they say she was was vivacious,” he kisses one corner of your mouth, “unyielding,” then the other, “a powerful witch in the making who was not wise of what she was doing before it was far too late.”

your breathing is heavy and your eyes hooded, “w-what happened to them? the wizard and the apprentice?”

his lips curl into a soft smile. “the apprentice and her wizard’s fates became inseparable, and they were destined to love one another in this and every lifetime.”

he pulls you in once more, this kiss much different from the first. he holds you impossibly close, a hand buried in your hair and the other lifting you up to his lips. it is enrapturing and toe-curling and your insides melt.

you decided then and there that the Wizard Howl Jenkins Pendragon was a charlatan. for if this is what it felt like to swallow a star, to give your heart to another and share a life, you would choose it with beomgyu, every single day.

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