#ch. tonya

[ja3yun]

Melting Point | P.SH | CH.6

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: fluff, angst, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (m. rec), fingering, dirty talk, switch!ynhoon leaning on dom!hoon, mentions of panic attacks and anxiety, unloving mother, confrontation, anything else lmk! ch. 6 synopsis: after sunghoon's injury, you're making it your mission to care for him, but a surprise visits from his mum and shocking revelations lead you to question everything you have ever felt. wc: 16.6k previous | masterlist | next a/n: surprise! i am gifting you this all a day early <3 i have so much to do over the weekend so you can thank my work for scheduling me crazy hours for this early update. ynhoon stans...i'm sorry. this chapter is a rollercoaster so buckle yourselves in. thank you so much for the love on the last chapter, seeing all your reactions to minhee was...yeah. again, likes, reblogs, feedback is always appreciated!

The day after the incident, you finally summon the courage to visit Sunghoon.

You’ve been in an emotional battle with your head and your heart, wrestling with the decision of whether to give him space or to be there for him during this setback in his career. As his girlfriend, you know you should show support when he needs it most, so you listen to your heart. 

However, you’re still conflicted about one thing: whether to reveal Minhee's involvement in the reason for his injury. The whole ordeal yesterday has left a bad taste in your mouth. Minhee and your mum had planned this sabotage but you have no clue why.

You sense there's more to this than meets the eye, something you don't comprehend, so you’re choosing to keep it hidden for the time being. It's not an easy decision because you've never lied to Sunghoon before but your mind rationalises it as a temporary withholding of information rather than a flat-out lie.

On your way out, you double-check you have everything, but while you’re preoccupied with checking your trusted lip gloss is in your bag, you bump into Minhee.

The atmosphere around you is thick with tension as your eyes meet. You’ve spent the entire night going back and forth in your mind as to why Minhee would do this, mostly because you want to believe he’s a decent human being who wouldn’t sabotage someone else for his own success. 

That’s the part you can’t wrap your head around, the idea that this is for his benefit because there is nothing to gain except getting Sunghoon benched for Nationals. 

Would he stoop so low just to get a better chance at winning first place? It’s so out of character for him. Minhee has always worked exceptionally hard to get the things he deserves, which was evidenced only in the last month with the extra hours practising and perfecting his routine. No logical person would put in hours and hours of grafting just to take the easy way out and eliminate their biggest competition. Even when you both watched the documentary about Tonya Harding, he was the first to say how stupid it would be for anyone to sabotage another skater because the ban would never be worth it if you really loved the sport.

Maybe you just don’t know your brother as well as you think you do, maybe this is his true side coming out. After all, he didn’t know about making it on the Olympic team if he skated well yesterday, and since Minhee’s dream is to be placed on the South Korean skating team, getting Sunghoon out of the way is a sure way to guarantee a spot - he could have conjured up this scheme with your mum.

It’s these conflicting thoughts that come to the forefront of your mind as you look him up and down. Regardless of any reason, he still did what he did, so you snub him, walking past in haste.

“Y/N, where are you going? Why do you have a bag?” he questions your pink overnight bag that you use for long weekends away at Rina’s. You ignore him and boost down the flight of stairs to get your shoes on, “Are you going to his?”

The tinge of sadness in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed, it’s similar to yesterday although anger has seemingly flushed from him, replaced with a guilty conscience. 

“You know I am so why are you asking?” you spit back.

“Are you going to tell him?” he queries quietly.

You can practically feel his heart gaining speed as he asks the question. He knows if you tell Sunghoon, his career is effectively over. It’s why you have such conflicting thoughts about telling your boyfriend because until you know the whole story, is it really worth ending Minhee’s future like that so easily? 

Standing up, you grab your coat, “Why shouldn’t I?” The question is posed to let Minhee tell you exactly what is going on, it’s up to him to let you in on the reason for his actions.

He rubs his face in his hands and shuts his eyes, you can see he’s fighting himself, “I…I don’t know.”

“Really?” you scoff, “You aren’t even going to give me a reason not to say anything? Then what was this all for, Minhee?”

He doesn’t answer, hanging his head down in shame. It’s the glimpses of him like this that are what are going to stop you from telling Sunghoon. The look on his face wasn’t just guilt he got caught but for his actions.

“Tell Mum I’ll be home in a few days,” With that, you walk out and slam the door behind you. 

You take two buses to get to Sunghoon’s side of town which takes about an hour if there’s traffic but luckily for you, there wasn’t. As you stand outside Sunghoon's flat, your heart leaps with excitement and concern. The rhythmic beat of rock music in your headphones works as a distraction. Sunghoon taught you this trick when you first started to hang out, the loudness of the base helps ease your mind, especially if it was flooded with any nagging thoughts about Minhee. 

You've come all this way to be by Sunghoon's side, realising that your attention should be on him rather than getting caught up in the complexity of Minhee's situation. You slightly curse yourself for not just being with him earlier, you should have been here as soon as he got home yesterday.

Chapping the door, you wait for someone to answer; It’ll either be Jay or Jake because you know Sunghoon will be resting, or at least you hope he will be, your boyfriend always had a habit of defying instructions. The loophole he found to start this whole relationship was a huge giveaway.

The door opens, revealing Jake on the other side. His eyes are filled with relief as he recognises your face, "Hey," he says with a small smile, "Sunghoon's resting, but he'll be glad to see you."

You nod in understanding, a part of you thought maybe the almost 16-hour silence would have put him in a sour mood with you. As you enter the quaint flat, you remove your earbuds and catch sight of Jay in the living room, absorbed in his reading. The subdued atmosphere tells you that everyone is attempting to retain a sense of normalcy in the aftermath of recent events.

It’s funny, you didn’t consider how his closest friends would have reacted, this must be hard for them too considering the three of them are inseparable, each in their own field of sports; Jake in football and Jay in rugby, all of them meeting in the same major at University. You’re appreciative of them, they could empathise with him in ways you couldn’t.

The short walk to Sunghoon's room feels like an eternity as your mind races with thoughts about how to comfort him. How do you approach this? Especially knowing what Minhee did. 

Why are you always harbouring a secret from someone you love?

You gently push the door ajar, revealing Sunghoon lying on his bed, his leg bandaged and propped up on a pillow. His eyes, heavy with exhaustion, meet yours, and a small smile plays on his lips as he registers your presence, “Baby,” he exhales softly and outstretched his arms. 

Closing the door, you walk over to him and envelop him in a tight squeeze. You let the gravity of the situation sink in as he nuzzles his nose into your neck, it wasn’t just his ankle that was hurting but his heart.

“I should have come earlier, I’m sorry,” You confess, drawing back to sit on the edge of the bed, “I didn’t know if you needed space or not.” 

Sunghoon shuffles to sit up straighter, wincing as his ankle subsequently moves with him, “I get it, Sweets, really. You don’t have to apologise…it’s a weird situation, y’know?” He widens his eyes for a moment, inviting understanding without verbalising the implications. It was a fucked up scenario, Sunghoon hasn’t once had an injury in his whole career.

Interlocking your fingers with his, you ask the dreaded question, “What did the doctor say?”

“I have 4 days to live,” he jokes in an attempt to make the air lighter between you both but you don’t find it very amusing. You know he’s hurting inside and you can’t stand when he hides it. Sunghoon is strong and dependable but he rarely admits any vulnerability unless it’s got anything to do with you.

Slapping his chest, you narrow your eyes, “Shut up, I’m serious, Hoonie.”

Sunghoon sighed and looked down at the damaged ankle, “It was just a twist, I should be okay in 1 to 2 weeks but that can take me right up to Nationals. I can’t be on my ass for that long, Y/N.” Anger seeps into him, almost as if he’s realising the severity of what lack of training will do to his chances at Nationals.

Can he even go to Nationals now? Did Minhee and your mum get what they wanted? Maybe you should just tell him about Minhee, an eye for an eye and all that other stuff. 

But you need to investigate first and figure it all out before you jump the gun on this. It’s difficult considering Sunghoon is in front of you, cursing at himself for not stopping the practice, this wasn’t his fault. 

As his mouth keeps moving, you slowly start to tune back into what he’s saying once his skate is mentioned, “You saw my skates the night before, they were perfectly fine!” he exasperates, pointing to them at the bottom of the bed. Somehow, being confronted with the evidence of your brother’s crime brings a moistness to your mouth as if you could vomit right there.

The way your face goes a little paler causes Sunghoon to stop his rant, his hand bringing your face to meet his, “Sweets? What’s wrong?” You’ve spent so much time with him that you’re starting to curse how he can read you easily. If he catches a flash of guilt or withholding in your eyes, he’s never going to drop it.

Standing up with purpose, you advance over to where the skates are, curling your fingers around them. "I think having these in your line of sight isn't healthy for you mentally. I'm going to put them away," you say, opening his cupboard and tucking them in. In actuality, you feel compelled to throw them away, realising that their main purpose now is to serve as a horrible memory. With your back to him, you muster the bravery to bring up the topic of Nationals.

“Coach Lee said if I rest it and can get back on the ice just before the competition, hammer in a few practice sessions and see how it goes since I’ve already officially qualified anyway,” The perks of being the best skater in the city, you suppose, “But Coach Kim says it’s too risky and that I could break my ankle if I go back too fast.” 

"Did the coaches say anything about Nationals? Can you compete?" The avoidance of eye contact becomes a shield, a method to ease the weight of the question from your chest. The guilt you harbour is overwhelming as if you were the one responsible for shattering his skate.

It seems you’ve not been the only one fighting with conflict.

"What are you going to do?" you inquire, returning to his side, your hand soothingly rubbing his thigh, a silent promise of support regardless of his decision.

He bites his lip, determination sparking in his eyes. "I'm going to Nationals, I don't care," he declares with unwavering resolve. "I need to do this. I've finally rediscovered my passion, and I can't bear to watch it disappear again, Y/N. I know that if I miss Nationals and the Olympics, I’ll lose the love I have for it, I feel it."

Nodding in understanding, you convey your unwavering belief in him, your smile a testament to your faith. Taking his hand, you bring it to your lips, planting a soft kiss on his knuckles, the action makes his heart skip.

For Sunghoon, the past few hours have been consumed by self-loathing, but your presence breathes new life into him. He hadn’t decided to try to get fit for Nationals right after the doctor gave him the news, it was only after he saw you walk through that door. You were the reason he wanted to prove he could do it because you always brought him back to life.

"Can I help with anything?" you offer, breaking the tender moment.

"You can give me a kiss," he cheekily responds, a playful smirk gracing his face.

Rolling your eyes in mock exasperation, you shuffle closer to his side and lean in, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. The synchronicity of your hearts creates a natural rhythm as they engage in their own intimate conversation.

Grabbing your sides, he guides you to sit over his lap, the new angle giving you more leeway to fully capture his lips, melting them with yours. His hands snake under your top, rubbing the skin of your back, grabbing lightly at your sides.

“I love you, Hoonie,” you murmur into his mouth and you feel him smile happily.

“I love you so much more, you’ve got no clue,” he presses your chest flush to his creating little distance between you. As he goes to buck his hips up, the pressure on his ankle makes him cuss and yelp out in pain.

Drawing back, you look behind you, “Sunghoon! Can you watch your ankle please?” You argue with him, trying to climb off but he holds you there in his lap.

"No, don't," he whispers, stealing another kiss, "I need this ankle to heal up quickly." Groaning, he shifts it into a more comfortable position.

"You'll be back on the ice in no time, baby," you offer a reassuring smile, but he looks at you with confusion.

“I wasn’t talking about that. I mean so I can fuck you,” The tender moment takes an unexpected turn as he expresses a different desire. The tone of his voice was offended, Sunghoon didn’t understand why that also wasn’t your first thought. Sometimes, he really is just a man.

His admission catches you off guard, and you playfully chide him, "You can wait, Hoonie." Cradling his face in your arms, you rub his nose with yours.

He doesn’t seem to like that idea.

______

"Hoonie, baby, do you want a cup of tea?" you call out from the kitchen.

You've been taking care of Sunghoon for the past five days, tending to every one of his needs. Part of this is due to your position as his girlfriend, but there is a deeper purpose lurking beneath the surface. You are well aware that your attentiveness is tinged by a desire to make up for your brother's mistake. You don't know why you're carrying the burden for your brother but you're living with it.

As you hear Sunghoon's ‘yes please’ response, you set about preparing the warm brew. The rhythmic clinking of the spoon against his mug becomes a backdrop to the quiet surrounding the flat. 

“Y/N, can you make me one too?” Jay asks while shoving his gym bag on the counter beside you, a flask in his hand. 

Accepting the flask you fill it up with some tea from the pot and add a dash of vanilla milk, just how he likes it.

Living with the three boys for nearly a week hasn’t been as challenging as you once thought. They’re respectable, clean enough, and have created unspoken boundaries to make sure you are as comfortable as possible. Obviously, you knew Jay and Jake before you moved in temporarily to look after your boyfriend but this continuous time with them has made you realise that Sunghoon surrounds himself with only good people, a reflection of his character.

Handing Jay back the flask, he raised it in a silent expression of thanks before walking away, “See you both later. I made extra lunch so eat it before it goes off,” he points to the pot of curry on the stove before he twirls out the door. 

Entering the room with the steaming cup in hand, you find Sunghoon gazing out the window, lost in thought. He has been getting better at a rapid pace, now able to stand confidently on his ankle, albeit not for a long period of time, particularly when he’s standing still, however, the progress he’s making for his recovery is astounding. 

He had a home visit from the doctor at Belmore to check his ankle and he said he might as well be a superhero with how well he is doing. He also said Sunghoon had a high likelihood of getting back in the rink for Nationals, as long as he kept doing what he was doing.

His attention turns from the outside world to you as he graciously accepts the tea from your hands, "Thanks, Sweets," he murmurs, planting a tender peck on your lips before making his way back to the bed. Seating himself at the edge, he glances over at you, curiosity in his eyes as you plonk down on his desk chair.

"Are you going to class today? Jay could have given you a lift," he inquires, taking a sip of his tea, his gaze lingering over the rim as he watches you.

You've willingly abandoned everything - school, work, even Rina and Allen. The neglect of your actual life becomes a mere consequence of your guilt-ridden state; until Sunghoon is better, focusing on anything else seems impossible. You've informed your professors that you're completing all assignments from home, citing an illness that keeps you from attending classes. Another lie to add to your bank.

Shaking your head, “No, not today. I’m all caught up anyway.”

With a sceptical look, he puts the mug down and walks over to you, each of his arms on the rests of the chair, effectively trapping you in, “Sweets, I love you and I love that you’ve taken care of me this week, but you’ve done enough. You can go to University and I promise I won’t break.”

Deep down, you know he’s right but your guilty conscience aside, this was also a lot more fun. The ability to spend everyday with Sunghoon, waking up to him and making him breakfast in exchange for him making dinner, the random shows you’ve both binged and laughed at, learning every intricate detail of him - it’s been the best time you’ve had in years. It gave you a glimpse into the future of what it would be like to live together.

You meet Sunghoon's gaze, your eyes reflecting a mixture of reluctance, "I know," you concede, "but it's been...nice. Taking care of you, being here with you.” 

“Trust me, I appreciate it more than anything, but I’m fine I promise,” Sunghoon tries to give you some comfort by looking into your eyes and assuring you. You can feel his genuine care for you and your own life. He watches your eyes shift as you look away from him, “It’s not just me, is it? There’s something else going on?”

People on Twitter cry out for a man as attentive as him, they crave it because men these days don’t notice anything. Taylor Swift and Adele aren’t top artists on people’s Spotify because men are great at listening. 

But right now you wish he wasn’t so attuned to you, that he didn’t know you so well because you don’t have the energy, nor the words, to explain to him that you know he’ll be fine, you just can’t face going home.

Because that was the real issue here, wasn’t it? 

You can lie to yourself all you want but that house is the last place you want to be. That house is a labyrinth of unresolved issues. Minhee's actions have put you in a difficult position with your boyfriend, secrets linger in the cracks of the house that only he and your mother are privy to, and you feel like a stranger in your own home. Here, in Sunghoon's space, you can simply pretend that the world consists solely of you and him. It's a comforting illusion, shielding you from complicated family drama.

Sunghoon bends down, despite the strain on his ankle, trying to get eye level with you,

“Baby, you can talk to me.”

"You need your eyebrows fixed," you say quickly, seeking to change the subject. His astonished reaction causes you to quickly break into laughter, "They're getting a little wild, Hoonie."

He tilts his head and furrows his brows. "You want me to believe that my eyebrows are what's bothering you, not something a little more serious?"

You eventually stare into his eyes, mentally pleading with him to drop it and accept that your concern is indeed about his brows. The last thing any of you need is for you to reveal the information you're keeping hidden; it might jeopardise the calmness of this week and, potentially, your entire relationship.

His eyes soften and a small but understanding smile tugs at his lips. He relents, knowing you’ll speak to him sooner or later about your worries, “Alright, come on then,” he slaps his palms against his knees and slowly rises, ignoring the shooting pain that courses from his ankle to his knee. It might only have been a twist but fuck did it hurt.

With sparkling eyes and relief, you follow him into the bathroom, excited to get to work on his brows. It might have been a quick scapegoat to change the course of conversation but his brows did actually need to be tidied up. In only a week they’ve become unruly, the true curse of bushy, perfect, luscious eyebrows.

Opening the cabinet door, he reaches for a new hair shaper; you had bought the pack for yourself just in case that one chin hair made an appearance while you stayed here. He goes to hand it to you but yanks it away before you can grab it, “If you even think of shaving them thin I will 100% break up with you,” his tone tells you he’s joking but his eyes are deadly serious.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you say with a lighthearted giggle and stand in front of him, putting a few dollops of his moisturiser on your fingertip before rubbing it on the area you plan on attacking. There aren’t many straggling hairs but his eyebrows are a trademark, you can’t let them sit even the slightest bit unruly. 

Taking the razor you pop the cap off and reach up to sculpt his brows. Sunghoon is tall but it’s never really been an issue until now as your line of sight is constantly covered by your hand, no matter how you angle yourself. With a little pout, you assess your options.

Sensing the struggle, he chuckles and decides to take matters into his own hands, literally. He sweeps you off your feet, lifting you effortlessly and placing you on the bathroom sink, “Is that better, Sweets?” From this elevated position, you now have a perfect vantage point to tackle his eyebrows. 

Nodding, you place one kiss on his nose before beginning your venture into his bushy brows, cautious not to shave too far in or knick him. With each swipe, you concentrate more and more, pleased with your work. A sudden surge of adoration pings in your heart as you see the way he’s looking at you, accompanied by his thumbs tracing over your hips. In times like this, you wonder how you could ever be so lucky to have someone like him love you.

While you continue working, Sunghoon is thinking the exact same thing. It’s so strange how as soon as he started to spend time with you all those months back, a valve opened up in his heart to pour love out, and as he’s observing you now, he realises that he’s now just flooded with emotions all over his body. He’s happier, more patient, less angry, and just filled to the brim with adoration for not just you, but his life. 

You wouldn’t know it because he hid it well but he was losing himself before he met you. The pressures of skating and university, the coldness from his mother, and the constant image of being arrogant and obnoxious that was posted about him in the media, it all got to him more than he let on. Now, none of that matters; he loves skating again, you actually make him study with you so he’s on top of all his assignments, and the opinions of his mother and journalists are no longer an issue for him - he doesn’t care anymore. 

“I really do love you, y’know,” he says out of the blue, just as you begin on his left brow.

A chuckle escapes your lips because it was so painfully obvious he did, you’ve never felt more seen or cherished in your entire life. Fair enough, the bar was way down to the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, but still, he made you feel on cloud 9 all the time. Even if you argue over different opinions, you never belittle one another or get mad, you talk it out rather than fight. It’s a dynamic you’ve not seen in your personal life before - when your dad was around, he and your mum would scream at one another or just never speak, the complete opposite of you and Sunghoon.

“I love you, too, Sunghoon,” you beam at him so widely you’re showing your gums. If anyone saw the way both of you were in the bathroom, giggling messes and smiling at each other like this, they would slag you off easily. But no one else is here, just you and him. If only it could always be like this.

Getting back to the task at hand, you finish up shaving off the last few bits and tidying the brows up, sculpting them like you’re Michelangelo and he’s David. They look good in your unprofessional opinion but it wasn’t yours that mattered, “I’m all done, take a look.”

As you go to jump off of the sink, he holds you still and shakes his head. Instead, he snakes his arms around your figure and pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on your shoulder as he looks in the mirror behind you. The intimate action has you instinctively wrapping your arms and legs around his body, clinging to him.

You feel him move his head side to side to inspect, “They’re perfect, Sweets. How much do I owe you?” he jokes, squeezing you before pulling back. 

“I charge one kiss per brow,” you tilt your head and bite your lip.

“As long as I’m your only client,” he looks at you with that same playful serious stare, “I’ll even tip you,” he smirks, pushing your core against him. 

Since the injury, you and Sunghoon haven’t had sex and it’s not through a lack of trying. Every time you both get into the swing of things, he either puts unnecessary pressure on his ankle or hits it off something. It’s stupid because at the end of the day, it’s his ankle and not his hip but you hadn’t realised how important a working ankle is during the deed. Even when you attempted to give him a blowjob, the tension in his leg went straight down into it. 

He feels confident in his ankle today, there’s no way it can cockblock him for the 5th day in a row. He wouldn’t let it happen. 

His plump lips cloak yours as his hands grip your ass and manually grind you onto him, eliciting a moan from you. Between your pyjama shorts and his gym shorts, there isn’t much material between you, so you feel each other’s need for one another easily. 

Dancing your fingertips along the nape of his neck, he shivers, a grunt coming from his mouth when you grip the bottom of his hair.

Your attempt at intimacy is short-lived however when you hear keys rattling in the door but Sunghoon won’t let his roommate stop him, “It’s Jake, ignore him,” he continues to kiss you eagerly, the grip on your ass is so tight you’re bound to have marks.

However, when an unexpected voice echoes in the apartment, you both freeze, hearts in your throats.

“Sunghoon? Where are you?” His mother bellows, locking the door behind her.

She hasn’t bothered to come see her son since the accident, once she knew he would be fine, she left him to his own devices. So why is she here now?

Panicked, you push him off, the sudden movement makes him stumble over his ankle, “Shit, baby, sorry,” you whisper, quickly jumping down from the unit. You can hear her footsteps exploring the living room and kitchen.

She still didn’t know about you both, and as terrified as you were of Minhee finding out, Sunghoon was of equal measure about his mother, claiming she was psychotic enough to hire a hitman on you for ‘distracting’ him. Your boyfriend said it as a joke but he was genuinely scared of her reaction to the news. 

Cupping your cheeks, Sunghoon gives you another kiss, and then another, and then another, “Baby, stay here and keep quiet. I’ll get rid of her,” he keeps dragging you to the door, placing urgent kisses all over your face as he backs up. You should tell him to stop considering he’s risking it but his lips are so addictive, “Fuck, what if I pretend I’m not here?”

“Go, Hoonie,” you’re acutely tuned into her footsteps coming up the hall. 

Opening the door, he gives you three more short kisses before turning around, bumping straight into his mum. She startles, taking a step back, clearly caught off guard by his sudden presence, "Sunghoon, why didn't you answer when I called?" she queries.

“Sorry mum, I was having a piss” 

You roll your eyes as you hear him from outside. There had to have been a better way to say that. Their voices get distant as they walk into his room across the hall but you can still hear them enough with your ear pressed against the door. Is it morally wrong to eavesdrop on the conversation between mother and son? Yes, but you’re nosey and none of the three boys keep magazines in the bathroom for light reading.

As Mrs. Park surveys the room, a disapproving huff escapes her lips, exhibiting her dissatisfaction with its current state, "How are you?" she asks in a monotone voice.

Sunghoon shrugs, “Fine, I guess. What are you doing here?” His arms are crossed defensively and his eyebrow quirked, “And where did you get a key?”

Of all the years he’s lived with Jay and Jake, his mum hasn’t so much as stepped foot into the flat so this was a weird situation he’s found himself in. 

She turns to inspect the shelves of his room, running a finger to collect dust, crumbling it away in disgust, “I made a copy one of the days you were training,” Twisting back to face him she continues, “And can’t a mother drop by to see her son when he’s injured?”

Sunghoon, clearly sceptical, could almost burst into laughter, "I got injured almost a week ago, and I could have easily texted you about my condition," he retorts, his narrowed eyes reflecting suspicion.

“I might have been busy rescheduling your appointments but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, Sunghoon,” she doesn’t flinch and neither does he.

The relationship between them is spread thin at this point, merely a transaction of small talk and managerial duties, he acknowledges this and so does she, so the act she’s putting on right now isn’t fooling anyone, “Mum, we’re not exactly known for heart-to-heart chats. What’s the real reason you’re here?”

Scoffing, she matches his stance, crossing her arms, subsequently closing herself off, “I think it was sabotage.” 

You wish you weren’t listening now. Does she know it was Minhee? There’s no way she could, maybe she’s just a sceptical person…or perceptive.

The tension in the room rises as Sunghoon tries to process her words, “Mum, this isn’t one of those bad dramas you watch during the week, my skate snapped, that’s all it was. Plus, no one hates me enough to do that,” he barters with her, the idea that this was anything more than a freak accident made him laugh. 

In the bathroom, you’re freaking out and regretting all your decisions to keep it a secret. If you had just told him, he would have had some respect for you but you know for certain if she does know that it was Minhee and tells all to her son, he’ll lose every ounce of regard for you. 

This is bad.

His mum shakes her head, dropping her arms and going back to snooping around his room, “I think it was Minhee…or Y/N. She is always around that rink when she can’t even skate, that’s a bit suspicious, no?” 

The accusation makes Sunghoon’s blood boil. You have been the one to look after him throughout all of this and his mother dares to think for a second it was your doing he’s in this position. All the care and love you’ve shown him this week alone is enough for the insinuation to filter in one of Sunghoon’s ears and out the other. 

Paying him no mind, his mother continues to the other side of his room, “The whole family is bad news but her? She’s up to something, far too quiet that one,” look on her face only grows with more disgust as she spouts her words.

“You’re ridiculous! Y/N wouldn’t do that. You don’t know shit about her,” he protests angrily, his fists balling by his sides as he tries to remain some sort of composure. Sunghoon would be dead before he let anyone speak badly about you. 

“Fucking stop it. What is your obsession with the Kangs?” He knows he shouldn’t have asked considering you’re in the bathroom and could probably hear every word of this conversation but it was more rhetorical than genuine curiosity.

However, his mum will take any opportunity to slander your family, “Her mother sleeping with the judge to get that scoundrel of a boy a higher ranking at Junior Regionals is enough of a reason. Her whoring around nearly cost you the final.”

Junior Regionals, 2018, the year your dad left because of a rumour your mum had slept with one, possibly two of the judges. Of course, it wasn’t true, Minhee worked incredibly hard to get high scores that year but Mrs. Park couldn’t accept that your brother almost knocked Sunghoon off the top spot. The rumour spread so fast that it almost tarnished everything that Minhee had worked for, there were investigations and everything - judges got fired, your dad divorced your mum, and it was a rough time for everyone in your family.

Sunghoon swallows down what he actually wants to say, “Is it really that serious? It was like what? 5 years ago and so what if I did come second to him? Would it be the end of the world?” 

“If her little plan had worked the way she wanted it to, you wouldn’t have had the opportunity to work with Mr. Son and get the sponsorship that propelled you to fame, you’d be a nobody like Minhee.” 

Rage, unfiltered, pure toxic rage overcomes you. She can say anything she wants about you, even your mum but never Minhee. He has done nothing but grind on that ice for years to prove himself as a main competitor since the accusations. Minhee is top of his league for a reason, he is just as good as Sunghoon is. Did he work on his humble and modest persona to make brownie points in the press? Sure, but his talent can never be questioned.

Reaching for the knob of the door, you’re about to barge in and tell her where to stick her opinion when you hear Sunghoon, “Are my talents not good enough? Did you ever think that Mr. Son wanted to work with me because he saw my skating and thought I’d make a good ambassador?” His voice is pained.

"Be real, Sunghoon," his mother says dismissively, and a heavy silence falls over the room. Your heart hurts for him, and your hand falls to your side, the weight of their conversation temporarily overriding your desire to intervene.

The admiration you’ve held for Sunghoon’s skating since you were little was a testament to his skills. His fluidity and grace were unrivalled, and he was seen as an embodiment of potential by everyone. It's frustrating to witness his mother's lack of faith in his talents. It feels completely unjust that the one who should champion him the most fails to recognise the kind of athlete Sunghoon is.

Sunghoon's shoulders drop, the weight of his mother's doubts and lack of belief in his talents crashing down on him. He lets out a deep sigh as he struggles to find the words to express his disappointment and dissatisfaction. "Don't you get it, mum? All of my years of training, sacrifices, and everything, were all done to prove something. To prove that I can be more than what you expected,” he lets out a bitter laugh, looking up to the ceiling as if to hold in tears, “But I’ll never be good enough for you, will I?”

The room echoes with the heaviness of Sunghoon's emotions, the unspoken tension hanging in the air like a dense fog. As you listen, a profound empathy washes over you, recognising the pain of a son seeking validation from a parent who seems drastically out of reach. He was always so good at comforting you with your lack of self-esteem instilled by your mum because he knew. He knew how it felt to be seen as less than from your flesh and blood.

His mother remains motionless, her stare unwavering and detached. "Sunghoon, the world is cruel. How can you expect to survive if you can't handle critisism? You are skating on thin ice, both literally and figuratively. Your National top spot is up for grabs, this is serious, I don’t have time for your pity party.”

Sunghoon's jaw clenches, a mixture of frustration and resignation etched on his face. He had hoped for understanding but what did he expect from a mother like his? He gathers himself, not letting her words hinder him anymore today, “I’m fine, just go. You’ve checked in and laid your conspiracies on the table, you can go now.” 

Her gaze remains icy. "Fine? Is this what you call 'fine'? Being 20 years old, living with two delinquents, and a twisted ankle to boot? I came here to tell you about the sabotage to spur you on and give you a reason to get better for Nationals. Don’t you want to show up the person who tried to end your career?”

“No one tried to end my career, you’re fucking delusional!” He raises his voice and it makes you jump, the anger portraying in his voice is similar to when he beat up that guy at the party for touching you. Sunghoon never gets angry, not seriously, so you know he’s had enough, “You seem to have a lot of opinions about people I care about, just so you can justify your weird allegations.”

She raises a brow, “You ‘care’ for the Kangs? Is that what I’m hearing?” 

To be fair, it does sound strange if you don’t know the whole context, Minhee and Sunghoon don’t strike anyone as buddies and you and Sunghoon apparently haven’t spoken two words to one another. 

Sunghoon is so overcome with emotions he doesn’t stop himself, “Yeah, I care about them, Minhee is actually a decent guy who I just don’t see eye to eye with. And Y/N, she…she isn’t even any part of this, so keep her name out of your mouth, okay?”

Mrs. Park looks at him with scepticism, “I’m curious, Sunghoon, how you’ve suddenly become so protective over Y/N. What is she to you?” 

You can feel your heart ripping through your chest as your name bounces between their lips, you never wanted to change your name so much in your life. As your palms get sweaty, you hear nothing but silence.

The question hangs in the air, challenging Sunghoon to define the nature of his connection with you. For a moment, he seems caught between the impulse to reveal his true feelings and the desire to shield you from his mother's wicked ways.

“She’s someone who you don’t know and are making wild accusations about, sorry if i have some morals,” he states firmly, eyes unwavering as he stands his ground. He doesn’t want to add you further into this family drama, you’ve been dragged through it enough at no fault of your own.

Despite his best efforts to swerve you out, his mother drags you back in, “You like her, don’t you?” When Sunghoon doesn’t say anything, his mum cackles, “I should have known, all those nights at the rink were to see her, weren’t they?” 

If she wasn’t basically figuring out your secret relationship with her son, you would have given her some props - the woman is smart. 

Sucking his teeth, Sunghoon nods, “Yeah, so what? I’ve been seeing her and we’re happy, doesn’t that just prove your mad theory about her sabotaging my skate null and void?” 

Her eyes flash in disbelief for a moment before she finds her resolve, “You don’t know her, she could have done it. She would do anything for Minhee.”

You want to argue but she’s right, you would do anything. You’re literally hiding in a bathroom as they argue about someone deliberately breaking his skate knowing fine well it was your brother.

“I know her, mum.” 

"What could you possibly know about her?" she responds sharply, the scepticism written across her features

"I know she loves me, and I love her. She wouldn't do that," Sunghoon says firmly, his voice carrying a confidence that fills the room. In the long silence that follows, you can almost imagine his mother's jaw dropping, either that or she’s fainted.

Staring sternly at Sunghoon, she tightens her jaw, a silent attempt to regain control of the narrative slipping through her fingers, “You’re an immature child, Sunghoon, you don’t know what love is.”

“And you do?” he spits back.

For a while, you don’t hear anything except your heartbeat and the air coming through the toilet vent. It's as if the world around you has vanished, and stepping out of this bathroom will transport you to a reality similar to a dystopian movie where there are no survivors left.

This was not an argument meant for your ears, which weighs hard on your conscience. Guilt flows through you like an electric current, yet ironically, it's a conversation that is entirely about you and your family.

Frustration etches deeper lines onto Mrs. Park's face as Sunghoon doesn’t budge. She clicks her tongue and strides towards him, “Fine. But just know your father would be highly disappointed in you right now,” she pushes past him and storms out of the flat, leaving a heavy atmosphere in her wake.

Sunghoon’s heart wrenches at the thought, he feels sick. He’s only ever wanted to make his father proud and now his mum said that. He stands frozen, his gaze fixed on the ground. The weight of his mother's words hangs in the air like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over the room and Sunghoon's heart.

Shock doesn’t even begin to describe your state right now. There is no way she said his dad would be disappointed in him, she said that to spite him because he won the argument, it’s pitiful. Mrs. Park is supposed to be the adult in the situation, yet she handled it like a child. You hate her.

Turning the door handle, you ease your way out of the bathroom, careful not to startle your boyfriend. There’s not a lot you can do for him, her words are a wound that can’t be healed by hugs and kisses. But you have to try.

Tip-toeing into the room, you gingerly place a hand on his arm, “Hoonie?” He jumps slightly but doesn’t lift his eyes to look at you. As you circle to the front of him, you see the water in his eyes and his jaw clenched, holding in anger and hurt.

You reach up to touch his face, stroking his cheek in an attempt to loosen it up but you fail. He is trying to be so strong and not let his emotions overwhelm him but even if he’s fighting them on the outside, inside he is breaking.

“Baby, please don’t listen to her. She is so incredibly wrong,” you speak softly.

His eyes flicker to yours for a split second but it was a mistake, he can see the sympathy in your eyes and it makes him feel weak. He shouldn’t be affected by his mothers words so much, not after he vowed to stop caring about her opinions but the way she spoke so easily about his dad’s disappointment boiled him over the edge, not to mention how she dragged you through the dirt. He felt ashamed for some reason, “Look at me, Sunghoon.”

Pleading with him falls on deaf ears however because he doesn’t dare, knowing he’ll breakdown. Sunghoon has always held it together, even that day he sat rubbing your back on the bleachers, when you hit a nerve he switched from sad to joy in the space of a second, something he’s been so good at his whole life, so why is this influx of sadness any different.

Because she mentioned the two most important people in his life and how the relationships were stained with something negative. Sunghoon obviously knows you wouldn’t corrupt his career like that and he knows his dad won’t be disappointed in him but he can’t help his mothers words poisoning his brain. 

Exhaling slowly, you withdraw your hand from his face and trail it over his heart. It’s beats are irregular, swapping between a regular pace and missing a few pulses completely, his lungs are moving at a faster rate yet his nose and mouth are still.

“Sunghoon, hey, listen to me, okay?” You try to guide him to the chair behind him so he can sit but his feet remain sturdy, “Please, Hoonie, I think you’re going to have a panic attack or something so can you sit down for me?”

All the signs are there. Panic attacks are different for everyone and he might just be going through the motions, but you’re better safe than sorry. 

His entire attention is distant, absorbed in the chaos of his own mind. You can practically see the internal fight in his eyes, the conflict between the emotions and listening to his body. It’s scary because you’ve never seen him like this before.

Sunghoon finally relents, allowing you to guide him to the chair. You crouch down in front of him, placing your hands on his knees, trying to establish a connection. "There we go,” You learned about bringing people down from panic attacks in a mental health first aid course you took years ago. Granted you’ve never used any of the steps on anyone other than yourself, so now would be the perfect time to use it.

Knowing your boyfriend well, he loved it when you lay on top of him, the weight of you calmed him down if he was nervous about something, so, you figured he could benefit from deep pressure touch and if not, you’d try something else. Anything to stop him from hurting like this.

Straddling his lap on the chair, you bring him into a hug, tightening your arms so it is snug and not uncomfortable and hold him, soothing his back and whispering positive affirmations beside him.

You sit with him like that for about 15 minutes before he finally moves, his arms circling your waist and his face buries into your neck. He doesn’t sob or break down, he just holds you with the same force you are giving him. He finds some serenity in your touch and he can’t thank you enough. 

You wish he would just let it all out, to cry because he needs it, but you can’t push him - he copes in his own ways.

“I’m sorry you had to hear all that earlier,” Your heart tears as he mutters the words into the nape of your neck. He is the one in pain right now yet he’s apologising for your feelings that got hurt. Pulling back you see his sullen face as he finally looks at you, “She had no right to accuse you or Minhee like that, she was out of line.”

A lump forms in your throat but you force it back down. You can’t tell him now, not while he’s like this but fuck do you feel like a piece of shit right now. Every fibre of your body wants to tell him and relieve yourself of the burden on your shoulders, but now is not the time for that.

You plaster on a gentle smile and place your hands on his cheeks, “And she had no right to tell you your dad would be disappointed in you because I know for a fact that he isn’t. That man worshipped the ground you walkrd on, he still does. You’re everything he would want you to be.”

The words hit Sunghoon a little too hard, the ducts of his eyes filling again but he quickly blinks them away and clears his throat, shaking his head as if to rid him of any thoughts in his brain.

“Thank you, Y/N. For everything and I don’t just mean right now,” he pauses, collecting the correct words, “I mean for the past few months. I feel so…I don’t know, I can’t even describe it. I just know I’m lucky to have you.”

You jutt your bottom lip out and nod. Of course, you understood what he meant because you felt it too. His mum was certainly wrong about Sunghoon not knowing what love is, he’s experiencing it in ways people can only read about in books. You cherish each other as best friends, as lovers, as soulmates.

Tucking your hair behind your ear, he smiles genuinely, “Never leave me, yeah? You’re all I’ve got.”

You look at him, your eyes silently convey the depth of your care and commitment to him, “Unfortunately, you’re stuck with me for a long, long time, all my snoring included,” both of you laugh, the tension and animosity that still lingered from the confrontation with his mother slowly but surely dissipating, “I am going to tell Jay and Jake about how you said that though. They’ll be highly offended.”

The joke settles in Sunghoon’s smile, “What can I do to keep you quiet?” 

You pretend to think, mockingly looking up at the ceiling as if to contemplate, “I think I’ll take the same toll as my eyebrow-shaping services. Two kisses and your secret is safe with me.”

If Sunghoon could imprint a single vision to his brain, it would be you right now with the loving smile you have adorning your face, “You drive a hard bargain, Sweets but I’ll pay up,” Leaning forward, he kisses you tenderly, holding your back for support. Your bodies melt together, any tension in your persons now evaporating as you lose yourselves in one another. 

His tongue makes its way into your mouth, licking you softly and with so much affection. You loved this side of Sunghoon, it proved to you that men could actually be soulful. He’s a ruby in a diamond world, you’re certain.

“You know, I never did give you my tip for your services earlier?” He wiggles the freshly shaped eyebrows.

“Seriously? After all that went down, you’re still horny?” You ask confused. 

Nodding he dips his hands down to your ass, “I have been cockblocked for a month-”

“5 days,” you interrupt.

“Whatever. Doesn’t matter how long, I just know I need to feel you,” There’s a playful glint in his eyes but underneath lies a strange vulnerability as if he just needs to be loved, to be wanted. You can understand that; you felt the same way when you were upset after the party, desperate for a genuine connection. 

Lifting you, he carries you to the bed and lays you down gently, yet, with enough urgency to relay his needs to you. He is so desperate for your touch and your love that he’s already kissing down your neck and hands roaming under the borrowed shirt that you’re wearing. 

But you stop him suddenly, using all your strength to push him away and push him to sit up against the headboard. 

He had to feel the pleasure this time and as much as he would tell you that getting you off was enough for him, you wanted to return the favour.

Sunghoon has a terrible habit of just diving into making you feel good that often your night antics are one-sided with him doing most of the work and you get all of the reward. Tonight, you can’t let it follow the same routine, no matter his protests. 

You start rubbing over his cock that is concealed by his sweatpants and boxers. The imprint of his size is already making your pants stick to your pussy.

You sit on Sunghoon’s legs, anchoring him to his bed as you play with the toggles of his sweatpants.

Licking his lips in anticipation, he watches you pull back the strings and let them go, allowing them to snap and send a shock to his already desperate cock. The way you’re just as eager as him makes his blood pump straight down, helping his member to stand to attention.

There is still an apprehension in you to continue; the last time you attempted to suck him off, it ended in his feet digging into the bed and his ankle swelling back up. This time, however, he was in tip-top shape, or at least he would rather be in pain than not have those beautiful lips of yours wrapped around him

Pulling the bands of his bottoms down slightly, you expose his semi-hard dick, drooling at the sight. It looks as pretty as ever, the tip blushed with a hint of pink already from arousal.

Sunghoon rubs your thighs, the pads of his fingers trickling along your skin, setting your body alight. Even the simplest of touches from him is enough to get the blood in your veins to stir. He sees the effect he has on you and smugly licks his bottom lip, “Are you sure you don’t want me to…” he trails off, his right fingers ghosting your heat, giving you just enough to tease but not to please.

“No,” you shake your head with conviction, determined not to fall into his trap, “I want to do this.”

You honestly do feel bad for the lack of give compared to take, but Sunghoon has an addiction to taste you, to feeling your essence on his lips and tongue. He gets lost down there so long you, making you cum however many times he pleases that sometimes you’re too fucked out to even think, never mind give him anything in return.

Your hand is cold compared to his warm shaft, so when you grasp it softly, it jumps in your hand as Sunghoon gasps, “Jesus fuck,” he whispers as he shuts his eyes, his hand gripping your inner thigh.

You slowly drip your spit onto his cock, gathering enough to coat it. You begin to move your hand up and down slowly, spreading your saliva over him, squeezing periodically where you knew he was most sensitive. 

Rubbing your thumb over his head, you apply special pressure to his slit with each passing which Sunghoon obviously loves, his face being the number one indicator; his jaw is tense, eyebrows scrunched together, and his nose is breathing out harshly. You're driving him crazy with lust.

“Baby, please don’t tell me you aren’t going to use that pretty mouth of yours,” he pleads to you while his hips thrust up further, trying to get as close to your mouth as physically possible from the position he’s in, “I want your mouth so much.”

“You want what?” you tease, bringing your lips down to the tip only to spit on it once more, denying him what he craves.

Sunghoon doesn’t take the teasing well, gritting his teeth from aggravation and pleasure. Although he’s desperately seeking the warmth of your tongue sliding up and down his cock, he can’t deny how good your palm feels stroking him like this.

Both of you are as bad as one another, teasing while still giving something. Usually, it’s Sunghoon and his soft kitten licks to your folds when all you want is his fingers inside you. 

It was nice to be in control like this.

Pumping him faster, you watch as he struggles to speak, chest rising and falling with your hand, “Just…fuck…don’t make me ask again,” he pushes out, tone laced in flames. It’s almost cute how he thinks you’ll give up so easily, this is your time to get him back for every time he tortured you.

Bringing your face back down to his head, you lick into his slit and circle his head slowly. As soon as he thinks he’s won, you sit back up straight, smirking as he grinds his jaw in frustration, “Like that?” you ask innocently, fluttering your lashes at him.

“Y/N, c’mon, this is supposed to make me feel better,” he pouts, trying to hide a smile. You falter for a moment, thinking about his words carefully.

You suppose that this was to make him feel better after what just happened with his mum, he needs to feel loved and appreciated, to feel that someone actually cares about him and backs him through everything.

But you know him, and that glint of playfulness in his eyes tells you everything you need to know, “You can’t use the pity card to get what you want, Hoon,” you laugh and continue to work his cock.

Losing his despaired expression, he clicks back into his cheeky self, huffing while he rolls his eyes, “It was worth a shot.” he mutters disappointedly. He really thought that would work.

“I can’t believe you’re trying to guilt trip me into giving you what you want,” you sigh, feigning annoyance. Your hand starts to slow down, “Should I even give you this much?” The confidence in your voice wavers once you look into his eyes.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Sweets,” he challenges you, those menacing fingers from before now pressed exactly where your clit is. You jerk at the sudden touch, loosening your grip on him just slightly. His expression is smug, a wide grin plastered all over his face.

He rubs on your bud causing a chain reaction of events; you fall forward a little, mouth slack open, and with one swift push of your head, he’s gotten exactly what he wants.

Gripping your hair tight with his free hand, he forces you to take him deep into your throat, holding you there as you gag on him, the vibration sending a shiver through his entire body.

Despite his force, he’s left you enough leeway to come off if you want to, but now that you’re down here, mouth stuffed with him, you don’t really feel the need to. Instead, you hollow your cheeks and give in.

His fingers finally slip into you, not even bothering to wait for you to discard your underwear. Curling his two fingers inside you provokes a high-pitched moan to rise from your chest and onto his entire length.

You clasp your hand around his wrist, holding his hand still, grinding on his hand of your own accord. It feels so good you pop off his cock, leaning your head on his shoulder as you get swept away in the goodness.

Your boyfriend tuts mockingly before whispering in your ear, “Baby, I’m starting to think you only want to make yourself feel good,” his voice is embedded with amusement, not a trace of annoyance to be heard. 

Sunghoon’s greatest pride is making you feel good, and as much as your mouth feels fucking unreal, he’ll take hearing your cute noises of need over getting sucked off any day.

You know he doesn’t mind but you want to give him more, something just for him. Regaining your thoughts, you quickly push him to lay flat on the bed, withdrawing his hand from your pussy.

Confused, he raises his eyebrows, “Baby, what are you-holy fuck!”

He stops his question mid-sentence as you take him back in your mouth, this time focusing on sucking his red tip, alternating between licking and slurping.

Grasping at the sheets below him, Sunghoon’s knuckles turn white and his legs tense under you while you give him head, probably with the most vigour you’ve ever shown. He doesn’t know how long he will last with each passing of your tongue over his slit, the accidental dips of the tip of your muscle making him jerk forward.

“Fuck, baby, do that again,” he asks pleadingly, desperate to feel that good again. And you oblige, flicking your tongue into his hole once again, and again, and then once more before you start to taste his precum on your tastebuds. 

As much as he is enjoying this, the idea of splattering his love over your face and tongue, he could think of somewhere else he’d rather have it. Ever since that first time without the condom, you quickly hopped on the pill and never looked back, both of you obsessed with how it felt to fall apart raw like that.

Yes, it was irresponsible, chances of still getting pregnant at a staggering rate but it felt too good and looked even better. Sunghoon still hasn’t got the image of the first time his cum leaked out of you, the sight is the closest thing to heaven as far as he is concerned.

You feel the pulse in his cock thump against your tongue, signalling that he’s close, ready to erupt; however, your hair is yanked to pull you off, the control from each strand to your brain acting as a puppet string as Sunghoon moves you to crawl forward and kiss him, his tongue dancing in your mouth. 

It’s not like him to deny himself release so you know he wants you on him quickly. If his free hand shoving your underwear down wasn’t indicator enough, his little moans certainly were. 

Freeing yourself of your bottoms and pulling his off at the same time, you hover over his angry cock, crying out for your cunt. But that doesn’t mean you can’t cause one more bit of torment. 

Sliding his cock along your wetness, you pretend that you're just gathering enough of your natural lubricate to easily slip him in, but in reality, you keep going; every time his head touches your entrance, you slide it straight back out. 

Clenching his jaw, he shakes his head once you’ve done it one too many times, “Fuck this,” he says lowly. Both of his hands grip your hips tight and once his dick is close enough, he forcefully pushes you onto him, engulfing his whole cock. The sudden action ruptures a loud, porn-like moan from you, the tip of him sitting right at your cervix.

“Isn’t that so much better than being difficult?” he asks cockily, kissing down your neck as you adjust to him, “Remember when you used to be so well-behaved with me?” His words flutter in your tummy, the raspyness of his voice spinning your head around. He must be reading those books you leave at his place, his sex talk is getting a little too good.

He rocks your hips to test the waters for any discomfort, and when he doesn’t see anything but pleasure on your face, he keeps going, “What happened to my good girl? Hmm?” he licks a long strip up your neck before nibbling your earlobe.

This damn praise kink will be the end of you because now all you can think about is him telling you how good you are for him, “I’m sorry, Hoonie. I just wanted to tease you,” you confess, face red from lust and embarrassment at how easy it is for him to get you surrendering.

It’s not a power play, he does it because he knows if you give in and just be your good little self, you enjoy yourself more. You physically shudder at every word of praise and touch of love, why wouldn’t he want you to just surrender to your desires? When you feel good, he feels good; it’s a win-win.

“My beautiful girl, teasing me after saying you wanted to look after me?” he tuts mockingly, smooching along your jawline, “You still want to make me feel good, don’t you?” 

The question makes your pussy walls hug him tight, eyes shut as you quickly nod, “Yes, yes I want to look after you, for the rest of my life,” you utter the words so tenderly that it catches Sunghoon a little off guard. 

When you’re both close like this, having sex, fucking, making love - whatever anyone wants to call it - you are always so vulnerable and honest with him. He wonders if you know you do it or if it subconsciously slips out.

Pickling your hips up, he guides you gently up and down him, the bell of his cock bumping each part of your canal perfectly, “Feel how my heart is beating? That’s because you always look after me, you don’t need to do anything other than be here with me, that’s enough,” he places your hand on his chest and you feel his heart accelerating.

Sunghoon speaks with genuine love, like he’s trying to tie both of you together for an eternity, and you have no reservations about that. You love him so much that even though you can’t see down the tunnel of your future with one another, you know you want to be with him until the end of the line.

Nodding, you smile brightly, “Still, I would like to actually finish giving you head at some point,” you joke, lightening the mood a little.

“I’ll think about it,” he mirrors your expression, nuzzling his nose with yours gently, “For now I think I’d really like to cum inside my girl.” 

You’re convinced you’ve just cum already, the bluntness of his needs only fueling your own. There’s nothing you want more than his cock - which is currently fucking you gently - to fill you up.

It gives you the motivation to move your hips in rhythm with him, pressing your palms on his chest while you pick up speed. Your g-spot is being satisfied each time you fully sink onto him, bringing you close to the edge.

“Fuck, you’re so good, such a good girl,” he echoes loudly. He wants to buck up faster but his ankle has an annoying twinge in it, telling him not to push it too far, so he puts all his strength into his other foot, using that as his anchor to fuck into you deeper.

“Sunghoon…right there,” you whine, your mouth collecting drool as he fucks you dumb. 

He heeds your words and keeps drilling into you, fighting through the discomfort so you can climax. Reaching his thumb up to your mouth, he wipes the saliva formulating at the side of your mouth but he quickly stops when you suck on it, eyes boring into his as you do. 

Your plump lips look delicious while your tongue swirls around, giving him something to think about for the rest of his life. Grabbing your chin, he pulls your mouth open which you do obediently. 

“You’re so close, Sweets, I can feel you,” he states, swiping his thumb along your bottom lip, smearing your spit all over your mouth and down your chin, he grips you a bit tighter to keep you staring at him, “You’re gonna cum, and you’re going to keep looking at me when you do, okay? Do you know why?”

Without hesitation, you agree, staring straight into him, “So I know who makes me cum so hard,” It’s a little embarrassing to admit it, but it turns you on so much. You wonder if you could convince him to go full dom on you at some point, you know he has it in him.

“Good girl, you can cum whenever you want,” the huskiness in his voice pulses into your heat, making you clench around him again. The motion only makes him smirk, “I need to feel that perfect pussy fall apart so bad.” The confidence in his voice wavers as his dick spurts a little. He’s trying to hold it in until you cum but it’s proving more difficult than he anticipated, your core just clamping down on him too deliciously.

“Cum with me,” you say, cradling his face, “I want to cum with you.”

The suggestion doesn’t come unfounded, you know he’s holding back until you climax, “Let me milk your cock.”

Okay, you might have to seriously cringe after this because who do you suddenly think you are? Dirty talk isn’t something that comes as naturally to you as Sunghoon so every time you initiate or say something like that, you have to stop yourself from shrivelling up.

What you fail to see is how Sunghoon’s whole body shuts down, the dirty words falling from those angelic lips put his head in a tizzy and cock on the very brink of shooting into you. The drive he has now is exhilarated, his hips snapping into you, weight on both his ankles but he couldn’t care less, he had to feel you coming undone.

You try to keep up with his pace but he’s going so fast you don’t even have time to comprehend how you could add to the situation. His length is pistoning into you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again, “Sunghoon! I’m cumming,”

“Cum for me. Milk my cock, Y/N,” he echoes your words but they don’t sound as good to him when it’s not your voice. 

Snaking his hand down to your clit, he rubs it, just helping to push you that last bit over the finish line, and it works like a dream. Your walls contort around him, your body tensing as your orgasm flushes over you. 

With your pussy tightening, Sunghoon spurts his seed into you, filling you up. The way your body is responding to your climax squeezes his cock clear of any cum, his balls deflating as he keeps shooting his sperm into you. 

He doesn’t stop for what feels like minutes, his dick jumping inside of you with each rope, only adding to your pleasure. Sunghoon’s thumb slows down but doesn’t stop giving your clit attention, making sure you get to ride out every remnant of your orgasm. 

Panting, you collapse on him, smooshing your face into his chest and kissing his heart softly, it’s your weak attempt to help him come down. 

Sunghoon wraps his arms around you, the rest of his body going limp as he cherishes the time with you on top of him like this, his cock still buried deep inside you, “You accomplished your goal,” he says into your hair, laying a kiss on your roots, “I feel so much better.”

You look up at him, leaning up slightly, “I never want you to listen to your mum again. She’s wrong about everything, you’re so perfect in every way, shape, and form,” your voice whisps over his face as you try to instil some assurance into him.

There was the little issue of saying this knowing full well she was kind of right about the skate being sabotaged. It gnaws at you, wishing you could tell him what you know, but you don’t want to hurt him, or your brother.

“I promise, I mean it when I say you’re the only one I need,” his fingers trace hearts into your back as you both bathe in the love that fills the room. 

The connection you have to Sunghoon feels surreal like it’s too good to be true. 

______

After the few days you’ve spent nonstop with Sunghoon, you decide you need to go back to your normal life, you can’t stay in your comfort cocoon forever. You’ve been back at classes, hanging out with Rina, and returning to work. However, you still haven’t been home, opting to spend the nights with Sunghoon. 

Minhee has texted and called you a few times, leaving messages asking if you can meet up but you ignore him. His messages punctuate your days like soft knocks on a door you are scared to unlock. 

Each time he contacted you, there was a little angel on your shoulder telling you to hear him out and let him explain what’s been going on. You have been telling yourself that the whole reason you refuse to tell Sunghoon about his skate is because you want to find out the truth; so why aren’t you trying?

Instead, you listened to the devil perched on your other shoulder, telling you to ignore him because it was still wrong even if there was an excuse to be had regarding the sabotage. 

Maybe it would have been easier to go back and forgive him if you hadn’t seen Sunghoon struggle to even stand in the shower.

Your boyfriend also got back to normality, he got his boots fixed in spite of you recommending new boots altogether, he’s determined to keep the old ones, claiming them lucky and ‘crucial to his National win’. 

He’s healing well, you wouldn’t even know he had an injury 9 days ago if you hadn’t been by his side. You knew his recovery was going well when he walked to his uni campus and back with no complaints. Well that and how he made up for the lost time and starting fucking you anywhere and everywhere just like before.

As you make your way to the rink to study, you see Sunghoon’s car in the parking lot which is strange because he said he had classes this afternoon. You shrug it off however, it’s probably just a health checkup he forgot to mention. 

Miss Barbara greets you, a beamer of a smile on her face but not like her usual happy to see you smile, more like an ‘I know something you don’t’ type of smile. You want to question her on it but you’re too curious as to what the rink has in store to wait around. 

The sound of multiple skates resounds off the arena walls, it’s just gone 3:30pm so it’s not an unusual occurrence, the junior skaters usually have afterschool training on a Tuesday anyway. It’s the bellow of Coach Lee’s voice that causes you confusion.

“Take it easy okay, don’t walk before you can run,” Strange. He doesn’t take the Junior class anymore, not since most of the parents complained that he was ‘far too harsh’ on their children. Of course, that’s not how Coach Lee saw it. 

As the rink comes into your sight you see the children standing to observe the skater on the ice as he lands a triple axel.

Sunghoon.

What on earth is he doing here, specifically, what is he doing skating like nothing happened?

You aren’t the only one who has a distaste in your mouth due to Sunghoon’s showing off. Coach is crossing his arms and tapping his foot in annoyance because his star skater has just defied his advice, “Sunghoon! Get off the ice. Now,” His tone indicates that he is in no mood for Sunghoon’s showboating.

Slowly, you make your way to the side while Sunghoon hops off the ice. Knowing your boyfriend, you can see his frustration with his coach, the slightly pouty lips and narrow eyes are a dead giveaway. 

He hasn’t noticed you yet, too busy begrudgingly taking his skates off. To be honest, you’re a little surprised that he doesn’t have some form of PTSD or at least apprehension about getting on the ice again; it would scare the shit out of you never mind doing tricks as if you didn’t almost have a career-ending fall.

“Listen to me, if you want to make Nationals next week you need to calm down with the aerials, alright? We need to build up to it,” Coach reasons with him.

“You saw me, I was perfectly fine,” He mumbles, tying his trainers in a strop. Sometimes he acted just like a kid but you found it endearing, probably because you’re never on the other side of the tantrum.

You now stand next to Coach Lee with a dissatisfied look on your face, “Hoonie, if you don’t listen to Coach Lee, you’ll end up injured again and I am not looking after you again,” Your voice is playful but coach points to you and nods, his eyes still on Sunghoon.

Whipping his head up at your voice, the bratty attitude melts from his body and is replaced with pure happiness. He stands up and brings you in for the tightest hug, his hand placed behind your head as he scratches your hair. 

Now that everyone in your immediate lives knew about you and Sunghoon, there wasn’t really any need to hide it. Both coaches were a little perplexed, wondering how your relationship started considering you both looked like you never spoke a word to one another. Little did they know you’ve spoken and fucked in every room of Belmore, including their office but you’ll omit that information if they ever ask. 

You don’t actually know if your mum knows but rather just assumed she would, either the coaches or Minhee have told her. If she’s anything like Mrs. Park, she will not take it well. 

As you’ve come to realise, your relationship with Sunghoon isn’t that controversial, it’s just two people falling in love while their families go at one another’s throats, like Romeo and Juliet but way, way less dramatic and hopefully no death. Although, if you had gotten a hold of Mrs. Park the day she came to visit Sunghoon, there might be one casualty in it all.

Coach Lee leaves you both, heading into his office. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, still unaware as to why he’s skating.

Leaning back to look at you, he smiles, “I got the all-clear from the doctor. He said I must be some bionic mutation because it’s basically fixed itself,” You’re sceptical, knowing his doctor would usually be a little more cautious than just telling Sunghoon he’s good to go.

Unwrapping your arms from his waist, you raise an eyebrow, “He just…said you can go back to skating? Perform your intense routine at Nationals like it was nothing?” He senses your apprehension and dubiousness and looks away, whistling. He isn’t slick and he knows it, “I guess I’ll go ask him.”

“No! Wait!,” He pulls you back as you go to walk away, a guilty smile plastered on his face, “Okay, maybe he told me to take it easy, skip Nationals and rest up for a few months.”

The look on your face is incredulous, how can Sunghoon and his coach possibly justify letting him back on the ice? 

Sunghoon fails to tell you that the doctor also said if he goes back too fast then he risks tearing a ligament and possibly putting him out of action for the foreseeable and with his age, he doesn’t have a lot of time left in competitive competitions.

That’s why he’s taking the risk. He’s 20 now, which is young in anyone else’s mind but for him, he’s too aware of the fact that in ten years maximum, he’ll either be doing exhibitions, coaching, or not skating at all. He had to take the chance, he had to make it to the Olympics and experience it.

“Sweets, I know what I’m doing, I know my body better than anyone,” He bargains with you, trying to help you see it from his point of view, “If I skate at Nationals, rest up for a bit before the winter Olympics, I’ll be all set. Trust me, baby.”

You do trust him, but you're also acutely aware of his stubborn nature. "Sunghoon, this plan might look good on paper, but it carries serious risks. You could really get hurt," you express, unintentionally letting a hint of begging slip into your voice. The mere thought of him sustaining another injury is unbearable.

Admittedly, there's a selfish reason you don’t want him to skate too soon. You don't want him to risk injury because, deep down, you fear that Minhee would have technically ended Sunghoon's career, invoking the butterfly effect.

“You also said that about us, that we’re good on paper but it couldn’t work. Look at us now,” Using your own words and relationship against you is a low blow, he knows that but it’s the only way you’ll understand. 

With a slow nod, you reluctantly drop the argument. "Just please be careful. I don't want you to cause yourself more damage, okay? If you see my side, at least consider it."

Sunghoon intertwines his fingers with yours, leaning down to kiss you. Instead of responding with words, he lets the kiss convey his gratitude for your concern for him. He knows you’re only looking out for him at the end of the day, just like always.

For a moment, you both get lost in each other, almost forgetting your surroundings. The usual nagging in your brain about the need to be discreet fades away, allowing you to revel in the affection. It’s the joy of telling the world about your relationship.

However, before the moment can linger, your name is angrily shouted from the entrance door, shattering the intimacy. "Y/N, what on earth do you think you're doing?" Your mum storms over to you and Sunghoon, his protective grip on you tightening in response. 

If she didn’t know about you and Sunghoon, she did now. Minhee tries to reach for your mum to calm her down but he isn’t quick enough.

“Mum, I-”

Before you can finish your sentence, she cuts you off, lifting her hand to silence you, “Don’t ‘mum’ me. I have been worried sick about you. You disappeared with…him for almost two weeks, not so much as a phone call to anyone.” She’s furious, if she was a cartoon you would see the steam coming from her scalp.

Sunghoon scoffs, bringing you to his side as a way to stand by you against her, “It’s a bit late to care about her now,” he mutters under his breath like he’s saying it to himself but it doesn’t go unnoticed from your mother.

“Excuse me?” She challenges Sunghoon, her posture hardening to match her stern gaze, “Do not involve yourself in our lives, I know what you’re up to,” her voice is accusatory. 

Yanking you away from your boyfriend, she roughly shoves you to Minhee’s side who catches you. This is the first time you’ve seen him since the morning after the argument and he looks horrible, his entire expression is sullen and his dark undereyes showcase the lack of sleep he’s had. Your heart hurts, wishing you had picked up the phone at least once.

That’s the thing, everything is easier when you shut people out. You haven’t given much thought about how Minhee would be feeling since the incident because you didn’t have to face him.

He gives you a sympathetic look, genuine remorse in his eyes. 

“Don’t speak and listen very carefully,” your mum looks at you, turning her back on Sunghoon to dismiss his presence entirely, “I didn’t want to believe the rumours about you two but it ends now. You will not see him again, that family is cruel and evil and I will not let you continue this relationship any further. Do I make myself clear?” You know she’s angry because she’s speaking clear and concise to get her point across. 

“Not Sunghoon, mum, he’s not a bad person,” 

Pleading with her falls short, her manner never wavering. You look to Sunghoon who shakes his head in disbelief at how brazen your mother was being by talking about him so poorly while he was right there.

She huffs, clearly irritated by your defiance. "Sunghoon is especially toxic."

"Mu-"

"He's using you to get to your brother."

The entire arena seems captivated by this unexpected drama, like it’s an episode of  Maury and the DNA results are about to be revealed. Minhee and Sunghoon exchange perplexed glances, but all you can muster is laughter.

The idea that Sunghoon has ulterior motives for dating you seems utterly ludicrous, "Mum, Sunghoon and I are together, and we're happy. Why can't you just leave us be?"

Ignoring your plea, she digs into her handbag, determined to prove her point. As she scrolls through her phone, you seize the opportunity to exchange a glance with Minhee, who can only offer a shrug, equally taken aback by the unfolding spectacle.

Finally finding what she's looking for, she hands you the phone, revealing screenshots of text messages between two individuals. "I did some digging once I found out about your little relationship. He's been texting his friends and making a mockery of you."

As you peer at the phone, Sunghoon's name is at the top of the screen, and the messages depict Sunghoon boasting about sleeping with you and how easy you are to get into bed, all it took was playing on your ‘mommy issues’.

The stress in your body builds, lying heavily on your shoulders. Despite the initial shock, the rational part of your mind takes over. Nowadays, anyone can make a fake text. The absurdity of the situation dawns on you, and you suspect that your mother is creating drama for her own sick pleasure.

"Mum, anyone can fake text messages. This doesn't prove anything," you assert, hoping to inject some reason into the escalating confrontation. 

Sunghoon still hasn’t seen the messages so he doesn’t know the severity of the allegations being made about him but he knows it can’t be good. Although you’re ninety percent convinced that it’s fabricated, he can see the ten percent of you arguing that they’re real.

With a dismissive wave, your mum takes back the mobile, “Thought you might say that. Texts can be faked, but voices? They don’t lie.” 

You suddenly have a sick feeling that’s rising from your stomach to your throat. What else could she possibly have? It won’t be substantial, it can’t be.

Out of your eyeshot, Minhee and Sunghoon are exchanging a look of curiosity, both wondering what Sunghoon could possibly have said about you that would elude to your relationship being made from lies.

Opening a file on her phone, your mum plays an audio clip, the sound of Sunghoon’s voice fills the tense air.

"All I gotta do is keep her hooked until Nationals. Once Minhee catches wind of me messing around with his little sister, he'll be too wrapped up in that drama to think about anything else. Can't have him messing with the Olympic team, you know?...

…No, she doesn’t have a clue. I practically have her doing anything I say. Seriously, sex whenever I want! I missed my opportunity to be an actor because how i’ve been pretending to be in love with her makes me worthy of an Oscar….

I just used lines from those movies that girls watch, read a few Twitter threads, I did my research man c’mon.”

In the wake of the phone call clip, a heavy burdening silence hangs around the rink, suffocating you. Your mum adorns a victorious smile, proud of her revelation. 

She’s the only one who was happy in this situation.

Minhee balls his fists, face going red and stature in fight mode, ready to knock everyone out of the way so he can lay his hands on Sunghoon. He isn’t even upset that he was planning all of this to sabotage him but rather that he hurt the one person most precious to him. You.

You find yourself at a crossroads, torn between the person you’ve come to love and the evidence presented to you. Sunghoon wouldn’t do this to you but the proof is right there, clear as day. The weight on your shoulders is unbearable as you contemplate the idea that maybe the Sunghoon you thought you knew, the one you love, actually isn’t who he says he is.

Sunghoon’s mouth hangs open and his eyebrows merge together as he processes what he just heard, “Y/N, I swear I didn’t say that, I have never…I wouldn’t…” He can’t even finish the words, still perplexed by the audio.

“Oh? But isn’t that your voice?” your mum says. It’s sick how much she seems to be enjoying this, almost like this will be the most gratifying ‘I told you so’ in history. 

“Well…yeah but I did NOT say that,” he walks towards you, hands on his chest, “Baby, please believe me. I love you, I wouldn’t use you,” Sunghoon’s voice wavers with anger and sadness, conflicting feelings fighting one another as his mind bats them around.

The weight of humiliation and deceit bears down on you, threatening to shatter your composure. A storm of emotions swirls within, but you stubbornly refuse to let it consume you, denying anyone the satisfaction of witnessing your breakdown.

With determination, you storm out, deaf to the desperate pleas from Minhee and Sunghoon. Your singular focus is on escaping the prying eyes, sparing yourself from the judgment and pity.

How could Sunghoon betray you like this? You gave each part of yourself to him, only for him to throw it back in your face.

But it was so real, the connection you have with him, even from the start, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before so how could it all be a lie? The way he made you feel was otherworldly, it’s hard to believe for a second he would have manipulated you like that. 

Was every whispered promise and affectionate moment just a ploy to damage your brother's chances?

As you push open the double doors, your mind is filled with conflicting thoughts that drown out the background noises of the outside world. The confusion envelopes you like a thick cloud and the cold air hits you like a slap in the face, a dramatic contrast to the hot chaos left behind in the rink. 

Stumbling slightly, you make your way through the car park, the weight of betrayal and inner struggle increasing with each step.

Tears threaten to spill, but you clench your hands, determined to maintain composure. The weight of embarrassment, uncertainty, and sadness pushes over your chest, making it difficult to breathe.

“Y/N! Wait!” Sunghoon’s cry finally infiltrates its way through your ears, “Sweets, please talk to me,” his voice gets louder as he catches up, attempting to grab your wrist but you harshly pull it from his grasp.

You’ve had too many arguments in this car park for your liking, whoever runs the CCTV must sit with some popcorn every time you trudge out of Belmore.

“Was this your plan, huh? To use me like this?” This was your chance to find out why he did it, why he tricked you so easily, “Was all of it a lie? When you told me you loved me, was it all fake?” you batter question after question out to him, word vomiting your inner thoughts in hopes of some clarity to the situation.

Standing in front of you, Sunghoon’s expression reads more anger than hurt, “Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. Don’t fucking diminish my feelings like that,” he argues back. It instilled a fury within him that you could even elude to his love being a lie.

“Oh? So what, getting under my brother’s skin was the plan but then you started to fall in love with me as time went on like one of those bullshit Rom Coms. Is that really the angle you’re pulling here?” You can hear your voice getting louder and you have no desire to lower it. 

Sunghoon is a mirror of you, anger rising but it’s not aimed at you, it’s the situation he’s furious with, “Y/N I swear on my life I didn’t say any of those words back there. I…I don’t know what’s going on,” his shoulders raise as he fights internally with himself. 

“That was your voice, Sunghoon. YOU. I hope you get your fucking Oscar, I’m sorry it was so hard to pretend to be in love with me, isn’t that what you said?” It’s not like you to scream at someone, however, the love you have for him is like a clutch in your heart, a burden you once thought was a privilege. 

Tightening his jaw, he has a tough act on in front of you but his wavering voice gives him away, “I love you, Y/N. I love you so fucking much you can’t actually think for a second any of this was fake to me.” Sunghoon groans and slaps his cheeks lightly, a habit he has when he’s frustrated, “I don’t know how to prove to you I am not fucking lying. Y/N, you’re my whole world and you know it. Why are you believing your mum when she couldn’t give two shits about you,” he barely pushes out the last sentence from pure agitation. 

Weeks and weeks have gone by and he has listened to you tell him stories about your mother and how she’s a horrible person. Now you’re standing in front of him suddenly believing her over the one person that has shown you all the love you’ve been missing. It’s enraging him to another level he didn’t even know he was capable of.

“Why shouldn’t I believe her? She literally has stone-cold proof of you admitting that you used me,” you argue.

He takes two long steps to stand in front of you, invading your bubble. His big hands hold your cheeks as he forces you to look into his eyes, “I didn’t say it. I didn’t send any texts. I haven’t got any friends except Jay and Jake and they would be on my ass if I pulled something like this. I love you so fucking much. Are you really going to believe a shitty audio clip instead of seeing what’s right in front of you?”

Either he’s telling the truth or he’s really committing to the role. The sincerity in his eyes clashes with the damning evidence, leaving you torn between love and reason. 

Pushing him back, you shake your head. You can’t rationalise anything, the red you’re seeing clouding over your judgement. His love that poured through the words was evident but even on the call he said he faked being in love with you, maybe he was just a natural talent in the art of deception.

“You’re just like my brother, y’know, literal carbon copies of each other. You’ll do anything to win, to top one another in this stupid rivalry. First, it was him with your skate and now this, using me like I’m some pawn in your game.”

A weird silence fills the air as Sunghoon takes in your rambling, “What about my skate?” 

Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

As if the icy air just took over your body, your blood runs cold at your accidental admission. This isn’t how you wanted to tell him, truthfully, you didn’t want to tell him at all but if you did, you wanted it to be a bit gentler than this and well after you figured out what Minhee was thinking.

“Did Minhee fuck up my skate that day?” Sunghoon can’t believe it, his face going a paler shade as he takes in the gravity of your words, “My mum was right? You both had something to do with it?”

He is seething, his body shaking as he comes to terms with your words. Sunghoon has never felt more fury coursing through his blood as he does right now, never in his life did he ever think you could make him this angry.

“Of course, I didn’t, Sunghoon. Believe it or not, I was actually in this relationship for real, not pretending,” you spit back at his accusation.

“You knew he did this to my ankle, you listened to me argue with my mum and defend both of you to the point she won’t speak to me anymore and it was true?” The hurt in his voice drains some of the anger from you, making room for guilt to sit shallowly at the surface. 

There wasn’t anything you could say right now that would make you look better in this scenario. You fucked up, you knew when you found out about the skate, you knew it while you cradled Sunghoon in your arms as he broke down, and you know it now.

What you did was fucked up. Lying to him was bang out of order.

However, since the guilt is only taking about a 1/8th of your body, the anger suffocates it, choking it down, “You’re turning it on me but I can’t control Minhee’s actions.”

“You kept it a secret, that’s just as bad,” he shouts, veins popping from his neck.

It hurts, the way he says it. He sounds so betrayed.

But he betrayed you, he’s been lying this whole relationship and now he’s getting angry at you for keeping one fact to yourself. You know it’s wrong to try and compare the two, to find a way and dilute the severity of your lie but you’re livid at him right now. Once you’ve calmed down you might be able to see clearly, that won’t be today though.

“Okay, fine. I should have told you but you’ve also been lying to me, and for a lot longer,” you retort back, staring into his eyes.

Stunned by your confession, his mind temporarily short circuits. You lied to him, after everything you saw him go through with his ankle, you neglected to mention that it was Minhee. He practically disowned his mother in honour of not just you but your brother…for it all to be true. And to top it all off, you still don’t believe him as he tells you that he loves you, that somehow that audio is fake.

Before Sunghoon can gather any words to say back, Coach Lee has a firm grip on his arm, the man’s eyes flicking between you both. It’s clear that even without hearing the conversation, your relationship was essentially over and Coach Lee didn’t want to meddle.

“Y/N, go home. Sunghoon, come with me.” His parental voice is switched on as if he’s telling his kids to stop playing with their food or drawing on the walls. 

You and Sunghoon stay stagnant as you watch each of your worlds crumble beneath you. All that you knew and loved got swept away on a random Tuesday afternoon.

And you just let it happen.

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

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen angst #enha angst #melting point #aj writes #sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader

[ofallplaceswhythis]

tcoptp thoughts pt.9

i didnt think it was possible to hate lyall more.

I love remus and tonya and tomny and lee i just- <333

god the awkwardness

Why pay for therapy when you can read ch 45 again and again

'he could have been an album cover' say that again but slowly..

these miles things are really confusing me so im just gonna ignore and hope no foreshadowing is stuck between those lines

Istg im gonna punch barty gbskuhbfsdhbfshf

I want to punch regulus but at the same time i feel so bad for him

those 'im okay's hit harder after pjo so make it count

THE MARAUDERS (and how does sirius have a poker face)

mickey cheated on lottie? seems fitting considering hes a fucking rat who looks like a character from a fucking cartoon rgkfgdfg

peters finally getting the appreciation he deserves (avoiding canon like the plague)

is this valentine chapter just filled with remus being jealous? because i am not complaing

no remus did not bring up his mother noo [ugh why do they have to fightttt ughhhhhhhhh sirius just pls communicate]

the wolfstar is wolfstaring

I literally cant stop smiling ilt fic

Every good marauders fic has to have a great 'dating/snogging' bet

i love sirius but sometimes i just wanna carve his head for thanksgiving like a turkey

k wolfstar is nice but their friendship too>>>>>

shit things are getting personalllll

no tonya you can't die is this FORESHADOWING

#the cadence of part time poets #sirius black #remus lupin #my thoughts

[totallytonyavlogsyoutuber]

[wannabeauthorclive]

The Survivor character intros and moodboards!!

(I would have made a image banner but tumblr has a 10 image max)

First up, Silver Sterling and Captain Black moodboards cause I want them with the rest of the moodboards!

Everyone else is under the cut cause there’s a lot.

Ironside

Real Name: Salia Crotchet 

Crew position: First Mate and Quatermaster

Role in story: important side character

Sexuality and gender identity: lesbian and ace (she/her)

Likes and personality: loves music, plays violin, kind but not weak, will not resort to violence until it’s the last option, loves to travel and see the world, has a huge sweet tooth, 22 years old

Short backstory: her father was a lord and was super strict and wanted her to marry a man and have a heir so his blood line would keep going. She was completely opposed to that and ran away at 14 (she was gonna be married by 15)

Braveheart

Real Name: Anita Nyzio

Crew position: sailing master

Role in Story: important side character

Sexuality and gender identity: bisexual, genderfluid (he/him, she/her and they/them), and asexual

Likes and personality: mapping out journeys, planning, black belt in karate, will always get back up after falling, supportive, looks mean but is a softy, compassionate, 21 years old

Short backstory: Their father was a mapper and was working on mapping out the world, and brought them along to learn. Before Black was Captain, they were captured to help the previous crew sail at night and find the quickest routes,  but after Black became Captain, they became apart of her family. 

Soberski

Real Name: Sam Soberski

Crew position: gunner

Role in Story: important side character

Sexuality and gender identity: straight cis guy (he/him)

Likes and personality: he hides everything behind a smile and laugh, loves to swim, super sharp aim, knows how to use almost every weapon, funny, tries to cheer everyone up, hardly ever knows what he’s doing, 21 years old

Short Backstory: He was a weapon maker and hated it, and when Black and her crew came to port, they bought swords from him and he bargained and asked if he join their crew. He had to fight Braveheart and Ironside, and if got back up again and fought well, he could join. She also put him at gun point and he put her at gun point in return and that was that. If he had the guts to put her at gun point, he could join. And so he did. 

Lakoma

Real Name: Milja Lakoma

Crew Position: Cook

Role in Story: Important side character

Sexuality and gender identity: pansexual and non-binary (they/them)

Likes and personality: bubbly, super nice and welcoming, big ball of joy, dessert is their favorite thing to cook, they love the colors of the sky and the sunset, realistically optimistic, friendly, loves and is amazing at throwing knifes, super smart, 20 years old

Short Backstory: They tried to be a baker, but when nobody bought anything, they had to close down shop. But when their last bake sale happened (to get ride of all the desserts), Ironside bought everything and offered her to be their cook on the ship, with a decent kitchen and food options, Lakoma said yes. 

Tonya 

Real Name: Tonya Gilliespie

Crew Position: Boatswain

Role in Story: important side character

Sexuality and gender identity: pansexual, aromantic, and trans women (she/her)

Likes and personality: always focusing on the then and now, loves jewelry, especially necklaces and anklets, does gymnastics and she jumps on ship masts a lot, RBF, gives super good advice, doesn’t care what others think of her, makes a lot of her own jewelry, 21 years old

Short Backstory: Her parents kicked her out of the house when she told them that she wasn’t a guy. She had to go live at a friends house, but then her friend couldn’t live the pressure that her parents put on her. Her friend ran away and was found dead. Having no where else to go, she sneaks onto a ship parked in port. Lakoma found her hiding in the pantry and told Black. Black was gonna make her walk the plank, but decided against it when she saw the marks on her wrist. Tonya quickly became family. 

Canta

Real Name: Camilla More

Crew Position: Surgeon

Role in Story: Important side character

Sexuality and gender identity: pansexual and polyamorous (she/her)

Likes and personality: loves reading, healing herb potions and medicine, very laid back, loves fall colors, has an autumn personality, will do anything to save someone else, loves her twin brother even thought they fight and bicker, 22 years old

Short Backstory: Her and her brother, Forester, grew up with their parents. Their mother was a surgeon and their father was a carpenter. But they died in a fire and they became orphans. They weren’t able to find work despite their skillset. Walking down the docks, they find Soberski bleeding out. Canta goes into panic mode and starts to stitch him up and heal him. After that, the obvious choice was to let her join the crew. 

Forester

Real Name: Jasper More

Crew position: Carpenter

Role in Story: important side character

Sexuality and gender identity: aroace (he/him)

Likes and personality: He loves adding intricate designs into his carvings, he puts lots of work into everything, he loves the smell of wood, believes that you can fix almost anything with a little bit of time, building and sculpting are his passion, he loves Canta and the rest of the crew as his family, trustworthy, levelheaded, 22 years old

Short backstory: He grew up with his parents and twin sister, Canta, until their parents died in a fire. They would have lived on the streets if they didn’t find Soberski bleeding and if Canta didn’t help him. He only joined the crew cause his sister did and they needed someone to patch up their boat after a big fight. 

Ira

Real Name: Ira Flexor

Role in Story: Important side character, Silver’s love interest

Sexuality and gender identity: lesbian (she/her)

Likes and personality: loves hiking and nature, believes in true love and soulmates, gives off a childish personality but is super mature, enjoys manipulating people, she dreams big, loyal, formal, and encouraging

Short backstory: She grew up with rich parents and met Silver when they were both around 10. Silver stole from her parents and Ira saw but didn’t do anything. They met again and again until they actually talked to each other when they were around 14. As soon as she could, Ira left home and joined Silver on her adventures. 

~~~~

After I wrote this, i realized how many people were ace and aro. Look who’s imposing their sexuality onto their characters and is going to have them be a found family -- not me. I would never. Never. That’s exactly what I’m doing. 

I absolutely LOVE how the moodboards came out!! And I have an overall theme for all of them and I’m all for it! The quote that is by itself or whatever, is their motto/quote thing that I wrote and is going to be referenced all through Over Land and Sea!

WIP Taglist: @baguettethebooklover @a-completely-normal-girl @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @hysteriwah @tiredlittleoldme @the-writing-avocado @vellichor-virgo @radiomacbeth @wildwrites @crowewritesstuff @crystallized-ink​@strangerays​ @authortango (please send an ask if you want to be added or taken off, it’s really hard for me to look through everyone’s tags to see if they asked or not. Thanks!)

#wip. over land and sea #character intros #the survivor crew #ch. captain black #ch. silver sterling #ch. ira flexor #ch. forester #ch. canta #ch. tonya #ch. lakoma #ch. braveheart #ch. ironside #ch. soberski #OLAS

[kazablanka96]

15 years of Sebastian Stan (2006-2020)

#sebastian stan #sebastianstanedit #bucky barnes #buckybarnesedit #mcu #marvel #destroyer chris #we have always lived in the castle #charles blackwood #endings beginnings #i tonya #lance tucker #clay appuzzo #tj hammond #jack benjamin #the covenant #blaine hot tub time machine #mine #my gif set #seb ch

[anyajoyed]

MY FAVORITE MARGOT ROBBIE'S FILM & TV ROLES

#margotedit #mrobbieedit #bbelcher #chewieblog #margotdaily #userstream #mine #gifs #tv: pan am #ch: laura cameron #ch: harley quinn #dc: bop #m: ouatih #m: twows #m: bombshell #m: focus #m: zfz #m: i tonya #p: margot robbie #margot* #0820 #500

[darter-blue]

So- I’ve been going through your blog for a few weeks now and reading your fics, but I just watched Endgame. I watched it yesterday and I need some comfort fics where it’s soft and the boys are in love because I feel attacked by the Russos and extremely disappointed 🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 any fics you can recommend for a poor lost soul????

Hey there gorgeous Nonnie,

Oh, endgame will leave you in a nasty place for sure, but yes honey, I have a few fics that will put you right.

Here is a little list of fluffy fun for you, read and get your happy stucky vibes back. And let's pretend that other nonsense never existed, shall we? Good bub.

Becs fluffy recs:

they're gonna send us to prison for jerks by napricot

This is mostly inspired by this tumblr post and Sebastian Stan's hilarious look for I, Tonya in general. This was supposed to be a short lolzy undercover/mistaken identity type thing, but whoops. Now it's 24k of lolz and feelings!

Effects of Obliteration by geneticallydead

I wanted to write a Winter Soldier recovery fic, but with some kind of spin where there isn't the inherent angst of the Soldier, you know, trying to flat out murder Steve on several occasions.

So um, ta da?

*throws fic at you and runs*

Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail by MusingsOnBuckyBarnes, owlet

The mission resets abruptly, from objective: kill to objective: protect

(Always rec this fic for comfort reading)

Sweater Weather by odetteandodile

hi all, i was in the mood for some lighthearted fall-themed shrunkyclunks and here's where we ended up!

enjoy some awkward flirting, banter, puppy-eyes, and fluffs.

The Right Wrong Number by giselleslash

Steve's one night stand blows him off with a wrong number, which just happens to be Bucky's number...

Steve Rogers. Cheerfully Slutty. by relenafanel

Steve Rogers. Cheerfully Slutty. But not going to take your shit about it.

Bucky Barnes. Voted most likely to fall in love first.

Red Carpet Rescue Mission by darter_blue

Just in case you, like me, are in the mood for adorable stucky shenanigans, I present this little bit of fun, based on the cutest anecdote I've heard in forever:

Irish presenter, Angela Scanlon, doesn't recognise Steven Spielberg at the BAFTA's

Subliminal Advertising by Kalee60

Hello and welcome to this absolute ridiculous story 

This came about from an actual visit to the supermarket when I not so proudly caught myself staring at a very nice looking man who may have had a wonderful shoulder to waist ratio that made me think of Steve... 

Love in Aisle Four by ixalit

When Bucky needs to swing by the supermarket after a long, hard day of work, the last thing he expects is to meet a cute grocery clerk named Steve…

When you say nothing at all by becassine

Sometimes the best conversations are never spoken aloud.

aka Bucky remembers some of his & Steve's more memorable kisses throughout their years.

Compatible - A Romantic Science Fiction Thriller in Four Parts by the1918

This fic was born into the world as a disgusting, smutty PWP plot bunny full of every a/b/o trope in the book. Then I watched it accidentally grow a plot and even sprout some world building. I apologize for what I have created.

night by the_gods_wife

Ch. 1: Steve and Bucky have to work together to neutralize a threat.

Ch. 2: Bucky is forced to defuse a tense situation

Stucky Tumblr Drabbles by TrekChik

A collection of Stucky drabbles, really a series of Meet-Cutes with an occasional high-context relationship, all about 1000 words or less.

Crash and Burn by HaniTrash

When you're the most feared assassin in the international spy world, who happens to also be an Omega, it's not exactly easy to scrounge up a willing partner. After all, everyone assumes you're an Alpha based on your size and generally grumpy nature. The website is an online matching service that seemed doubtful to his skeptical mind, but all he's looking for is a cock to ride out his heats with instead of doing all the work himself. Should be simple enough, right?

💗💗💗

There you go nonnie, lots of juicy fun fluff and smut for you to sink your teeth into. As always, mind the ao3 tags and ratings and enjoy!!!

#bec answers #fic recs #stucky fic recs #fluffy stucky fic recs #endgame should be stricken from the record #it no longer exists #dont speak its name #i love my anons

[mrsarnasdelicious]

The Prophet [V]

Thank you, my dear Tonya, for helping me with this.

August x Self Fic. Self serving, I do this for me.

Ch 1 - Stuck on you Ch 2 -  Burning Right Through Me Ch 3 - Delayed Gratification Ch 4 - Kiss Me With Your Torture

Chapter 5 - Killing Me Softly

August carries me back to bed. I am sobbing into his shoulder. “Hush now, darlin’.” He murmurs.

He lays me down and crawls in beside me. He gathers me in his arms and holds me for a while. I do my best to calm down, but it is just not working. I am stuck in a meltdown and I’ll have to ride it out for as long as it will last.

August does the only thing I absolutely wouldn’t have expected of him. His fingers part my folds and search out my clit. He languidly strokes me while holding me tightly against his torso. I nose into his chest hair and whimper.

His fingers dip lower to test my wetness and I moan a little louder. He then helps me wrap my leg around his hip. And he lines up.

I cry out in pleasure when he lodges himself inside me. “Hush now, everything is okay.” I hear a falter in his voice and wonder why. Why is August suddenly insecure? Is it because I cry? Does he not know how to comfort me, other than with his cock?

It is what I need though. His cock deep inside me is sufficient distraction from my autistic distress. It is better this way. Having him inside me completes me.

I slowly start to lull my hips. I am still crying a little, but my meltdown is dispersing. Slowly, August moves with me. Barely a sound passes between us. Only choked off grunts and whines of desperation. My desperation to convince myself I can go on without him. His desperation to comfort me, with a skillset that is not made for it.

I arch up to kiss him. It is a sloppy and mindless kiss. He groans, I whine. Something unspoken passes between us. His mouth becomes more possessive. I curl my fingers into his hair and he groans against my lips.

His thrusts become firmer and he topples me over. He pounds into me without mercy. I have stopped crying by now. All I can think of is August and the moment. This moment in which we are one, it is all I want.

For a split second I wish to myself that my pill fails me.

The thought of it arouses me so much my core clamps down on August’s cock and then releases a gush of wetness. The sheer thought of August knocking me up is enough to draw me impossibly close to my orgasm.

“I am going to cum soon.” I whimper. “Me too.” August whispers. My core gives another clench. “Together.” I whisper. I hold onto the thought of his seed taking root inside me. I can taste my climax on the back of my tongue.

August ploughs me like it is his only way of survival. I squeal and surrender to the pleasure. “Oh fuck!” August groans loudly. He spends himself deep inside me and I once again foolishly wish for his seed to take root.

“We are going to eat something now.” August says firmly. “Yes please, I am starving.” I whisper. I clamber out of bed and head to the kitchen.

I shudder when I feel his seed drip down my leg. I am taking this way too far, but I enjoy it far too much.

I open the fridge and start poking around for something I like. “You still have bread?” I ask. “I must have, let me find it.” August replies. I grab cucumber, lettuce, tomatoes and avocado, to build myself something healthy.

August finds the bread and together we make some club sandwiches. I try not to talk, for fear I say something wrong. August is silent too. It is not the good kind of silence.

We eat and I go back to my writing.

“Darlin’..?” August sits down by me, on the sofa. I look up from my tablet. “Are you … alright?” He asks. I nod, but say nothing in fear my voice might betray me. Gently August takes my tablet from my hands. “Come here.” He says firmly.

I crawl into his lap, curling against his chest. “Good girl.” He murmurs. He places a kiss atop my head. He strokes my face and holds me close. I heave a sigh and press my face against his neck. I inhale him, letting his warmth leak into my skin. I savour his embrace.

He gently grabs my chin and tilts my head back. “K-kiss me.” I whisper. “I just need you to kiss me.” I mutter. August smiles a small wain smile and closes the distance between us. The kiss is searching and robs me utterly of my breath … and my mind. It is exactly what I want from him now.

I caress his face and play with his curls. I want so desperately to savour everything about him. Tomorrow is my last day here. I need to make this count. I need this to be good! I need him to never forget me!

I lick my tongue into his mouth. August groans softly and runs his fingers down my side. I whimper softly in anticipation. I need his touch more than I need the oxygen in my lungs. I need his touch so much I might combust. I part my legs, inviting him to pleasure me.

August obliges, running his fingers down my belly, to my cunt. I whine the moment he touches my folds. “So needy.” August whispers against my mouth. One finger dips into my wet core and I moan softly. “Dirty fox.” He spanks my thigh with his free hand. I moan louder.

His thumb finds my clit. “Oh … oh yes.” I whisper. Tenderly August rubs me, contrasting the ministrations with the occasional spank on my thigh. It works quickly in reducing me to a sopping wet mess.

“Please fuck me.” I whine. I kiss at August’s jaw to appease him.

August gets up and carries me into the bedroom. It smells like sex and sweat in there. Our sex, our sweat. I love that fact.

He lays me down and crawls on top of me. Fiercely he kisses me as he hooks my legs around his hips. It takes two experimental thrusts for him to push inside of me. “Thank you.” I whisper against his lips. “Thank you sir.” I know not what else to do or say right now. All I need is to be one with him.

August stays still inside me. He leans in and slowly kisses me. I stroke his face and kiss him back languidly. “Don’t thank me yet.” He whispers against my lips. “I thank you for every second I still have with you.” I reply. He gathers me in his arms. “And I will make every second a gift.” He whispers.

Then, he fucks me so hard it almost hurts.

Rain begins to fall. I hear the clatter of it against the windows as I lay in August’s arms. I cuddle closer against him, inhaling the scent of him, of us. I groan softly. “I should change the sheets.” I whisper. “You are my guest here, you don’t have to do that.” August replies. “But it's started to smell a bit.” I mumble. “We smell, too.” August says. I titter a soft giggle.

“We showered this morning, maybe we should change the sheets tomorrow.” I mutter. “That seems wiser.” August agrees. He lays prone in the sheets, gazing out of the window at the rainy city. I press a kiss against his neck and close my eyes. I might sleep, I might just drift in my own thoughts for a good while.

August can’t lay still for long. He slips out of bed and puts his robe back on. “I am going to make a phone call. Stay here.” It is an order. “Yes, I will.” I mumbles. I curl my arms around his pillow and turn away from the window.

August leaves the room. I am once more alone with my desperation. I feel empty without August. He is like a drug to me. I want forever more. I am greedy for his touch and his mouth and his cock. He is all I can think of. He is in my brain and in my heart, in the very fibers of my being.

I need him.

I wait in tense anticipation for August to return. Minutes seem to pass by as though they are hours. I get impatient. But I know better than to seek August out. Instead I roll myself into the sheets and fantasise about him. I absentmindedly touch myself.

I feel so empty without him. I keeningly moan, needy for him! “Please August, please.” I chant softly, as if praying. Hoping, begging that it brings him to me. Folly, of course, August won’t come upon being summoned like that. He is a man, not a Patronus.

But then, he does burst into the bedroom. “What did I hear?” He asks sharply. I prop myself up on my elbows. “I was merely crying out for you. I feel so lonely without you.” I murmur coyly. August tuts, but he comes over to the bed all the same. “I am so empty without your cock inside me.” I pout, sending him doe eyes.

He sits on the edge of the bed. “If I could forever be buried inside you, I would.” He says. “I wish you could.” I reach out for him, trying to motivate him to lay down with me. “But I can’t.” He muses. He does not lay down. He only looks down on me. I begin to grow insecure. Doesn’t he want me now?

“August?” I whisper. “Yes?” He replies in a murmur. “Won’t you kiss me, please. I’ll be good, I promise.” I try to appease him. “I know you will be.” August says softly. He cups my face and traces my lips with his thumb. “I know you will be.” He repeats.

I playfully flick my tongue at his thumb. “I’ll be very very good.” I whisper coyly. August chuckles softly. “Will you now?” He purrs. “Yes, sir.” I cooe. “Will you obey every command?” He asks. “Yes sir.” I bite my lip, trying to be seductive.

“Then be a good girl and kneel for me.” August says. “Here, on the floor, sir?” I ask. “No, on the bed.” August answers. “Yes, sir.” I quickly move to my knees. “There is a good girl.” August smirks.

He just looks at me for a while. My upper legs start trembling a little, so I lower my bum onto my ankles. “I did not say you could do that.” August snaps. I stretch back out. “I am sorry sir.” I mutter. Damn, he is not kidding.

He lets me sit on my knees for a few minutes more.

“You can sit down now.” He tells me at long last. I slowly sink down, my butt on my ankles. “You almost succeeded.” August taunts. “You can’t blame me for not knowing how you like it.” I disagree. As a reward I get a firm spank on each thigh. “And you will thank me for it.” August says. “Thank you sir.” I say obediently.

“Put your arms behind your back.” He orders. I do as he says at once. “Good girl.” August says. He crouches beside the bed and pulls a box out from under it. He takes out a set of leather cuffs and sits down behind me. He binds my hands behind my back. “Thank you sir.” I purr coyly. “You are learning fast.” August purrs. He leans over to kiss my shoulder.

“Now open your legs.” He orders. “Yes sir.” I whisper. I obey right away. August grabs me by my shoulders and pulls me down. I yelp and do my best to not make my legs bend in impossible ways.

August pulls my pelvis into his lap. “Now, you are going to be quiet. Not a peep from now on.” He says firmly. I nod in reply. “Such a good girl.” August chuckles.

He begins with gently massaging my thighs. I try to get comfortable, despite laying on my arms. August tisks softly. “I should do something about your arms.” He says. He slowly let’s my pelvis slip out of his lap. He reaches underneath me and undoes the cuffs.

“Put your arms above your head.” August orders. I oblige swiftly. He smirks down on me and cuffs my hands to the headboard. “There, much better.” August chuckles. I send him a small pout, but I say nothing. August smirks down on me. “You look so beautiful like this, so vulnerable. So completely at my mercy.” He purrs. At the tone of his voice, my core gives a little clench.

He sits down again, my pelvis in his lap. “Now, let me make you feel good.” He murmurs. I nod in reply. I wonder how well I am going to do at keeping silent once he starts touching me. Probably not very well.

August rubs my clit very carefully, with his thumb. I bite the inside of my lip to not make a sound. It is very hard. August knows exactly how to touch me and it feels so good. And I am the type of person to give voice to my pleasure. He smirks down on me. Of course he knows I am already struggling.

“You’re being very good.” He praises. I bite the inside of my cheek. I have to do my best not to reply. He is making it very hard though. The way he rubs my clit is almost too much to handle. There is sound building up in my throat. It will need to come out.

I whimper ever so softly. “Don’t!” August warns me loudly. But I just can’t help myself. Little moans spill from my lips. “I said, don’t.” August growls. He spanks my thighs, first left then right. “Oh fuck!” I cry out. “Keep quiet. I’ll keep spanking you if you don’t.” August hisses. He spanks my thighs several more times. They turn red and feel hot. I moan with every slap. It is just so good.

Wet arousal leaks heavily from my core. “Fuck.” August hisses. He clasps a hand over my mouth. “I’ll make you be quiet.” He growls.

He presses two fingers into me. I moan against his hand. “You just can’t stay silent, can you?” He asks sharply. I shake my head, I have never been able to be silent during sex. “I’ll have to be harsh on you, you know that?” August whispers. I nod in reply. “I’ll accept the consequences of my disobedience.” I can’t obey, not while he is pleasuring me the way he is.

August fucks me harshly with two digits. I arch off the bed, whimpering rather loudly. “You are such a dirty little fox.” August growls. I can’t formulate a reply, only whining in intense need. The need for him, the need to cum… the need to be fucked.

“M-more.. Please.” I whisper. August peers down on me, his eyes narrowing. “You know you should be silent right now, don’t you?” He asks. I nod in answer. “Then why did I hear you talking?” He growls. “Because I need more.” I whimper. August shakes his head. “You are not getting more until you obey.” He hisses. “Then you are going to finger fuck me until I am bleeding. That does not sound like a good plan, now does it.” I cooe, as innocently as I can. August gives me a dark look. He arches his fingers against that weak spot inside me. I whine loudly.

My muscles are slowly tensing on his fingers. “Oh .. oh gods.” I whimper. I am so close to cumming I can almost taste it. August ups the ante by rubbing my clit with his thumb. He keeps his hand clasped over my mouth. I whimper loudly. “Cum for me, now!” August growls. I whine, unable to obey right away. I need a little more.

August removes his hand from my face and gives me a spank on my thigh. “Oh gods!” I cry out. In one fell swoop, I reach my climax. My core flutters harshly around August’s fingers.

But he tutts, all the same. “You came a little bit too late.” He growls. I heave a blissful little sigh. I don’t quite care. I got what I wanted, after all. And I had it proven that August can’t be hard on me, even if he tries to be.

“Don’t look so satisfied.” August says. “But I am. You satisfy me.” I purr. That obviously mollifies him, because he smiles at me. “There we go, you are so handsome when you smile.” I tease. August chuckles. He leans in to slowly kiss me.

“Fuck, look what you are doing to me, woman.” He growls, his face millimeters away from mine.

He leans over to release me from my bonds. Then, he handily flips me over. He spanks me swiftly on the ass. I moan lewdly. “I will fuck you now. Try to be as quiet as you can.” He growls. He pulls me onto hands and knees. “I’ll try.” I cooe.

He rubs his glans teasingly against my core. I whimper ever so softly. “Do it.” I look at him over my shoulder. August smirks at me. He grabs firmly at my hips and thrusts forward. He sheaths himself all the way home. I cry out, loudly. So much for trying to keep quiet.

August wraps my hair around his hand. “Fuck, I am not going to get enough of you.” He snarls. He nips at my ears and shoulders. Carefully he pulls my hair. “Oh fuck.” I whine. “You dirty, dirty woman.” August growls. “And you love it.” I retort. He chuckles and hums in affirmation. “I love it, indeed.” He leans over to nip at my shoulder.

He ploughs me without an ounce of self control. He fucks me, hard and fast. My head is spinning and I cum on his cock.

It is all we do, really, fuck.

Fuck and sleep and eat. Shower, then fuck some more. Pathetic if you really start to think about it. But August is so fucking addictive. It is so good to be with him. To let him have free reign of his lust for me.

The things he does to me are unlike anything I have experienced before. He shows me a whole new world. Fuck, he makes me sappy, too.

But I know that it is not to be. August is from a different sort of world than I. I am going to have to leave him behind.

The moon shines down on him through the tall window. I sigh and watch him sleep. He looks so peaceful yet so powerful, like a Norse God in slumber. I’ll miss him. I won’t ever forget him. No one will ever compare to him.

Tears trail down my cheeks again. I curl into him and sob into his chest hair. August groans and wraps an arm around me. “Don’t do this to yourself.” He rumbles. “I can’t help it. I can’t help what I feel.” I reply. “Mind over matter, darlin’.” He rumbles. “Small mind, big matter.” I huff.

August makes me look at him. “Your mind is not small.” He growls. “You are clever and capable.” He tells me. “And yet.. and yet my heart wants what it wants.” I whisper.

August huffs and rolls me onto my back, hovering over me. “Don’t, please. For your sake and mine.” He rumbles. He closes the distance between us and kisses me greedily. He says I should not be in love with him, but he still kisses me like he wants me to be.

Maybe he does…

I kiss him back, trying to convince him of the same. That he should be in love with me, too. August groans into my mouth. Maybe… just maybe he is in love with me. Maybe I am not just being overly quick to attach myself to him. Maybe I am not misinterpreting his signals.

He fucks me, again.

And again and then one last time.

I whisper that I miss him, once he’s asleep again. Once the sun has started peeking over the buildings.

I manage to fall asleep again.

When I wake up, he’s gone. There is a note on the bedside table. I sit up and reach out for it. August’s handwriting is neat and blocky.

I have a meeting, sorry I can’t be there when you wake up. You are beautiful when you are waking up.

Grab yourself something to eat and make yourself at home. I’ll be back. I can barely wait to fuck you again.

AW

Sadly I can’t wait around for him. I have a plane to catch.

I turn over August’s note and scribble down my own message.

I am sorry I am not here to let you indulge in my body. I have to go home.

I will never forget you.

Call me, maybe…

+316xxxxxxxx

TS

I dress and pack up what little stuff I have brought here. I feel exposed and vulnerable in only the dress August bought me, as I take the tube to the Hotel. It is fortunately not too far.

Once at the hotel I shower, dress in my most comfortable hoodie, pack up, and leave.

I am early at the airport, but it gives me time to wander the stores and get myself a bite to eat. I settle down on a bench and try to write some. But I can only think of August. Emptiness starts to gnaw at me. Emptiness in my heart and in my core. I miss him so much.

I do my best not to cry. “Ma’am, are you okay?” I look up to a man with a cheeky smile on his face. “Yeah, I am fine.” I say curtly. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now. I wouldn’t even want to talk to Reza if he magically appeared. I can’t. Not crying takes enough energy out of me as it is.

I board three hours after arriving at the airport.

I flop down by the small window and take out my tablet. I do my best to write, but everything I type up is drivel.

Soon enough we take off. I fasten my seatbelt and feel my heart leave my body. It is still there, in that silk sheeted bed that smells of sex and sleep. It is still in that penthouse, waiting for August.

I fall asleep during the flight. It is not a good sleep. It is fitful and I wake up more tired.

Once on Heathrow I walk to baggage claim like a fucking zombie. I grab my case and zombie shuffle my way over to the tube station.

After half an hour of public transport, I am home.

I am greeted by my sweet tripod baby. She purrs loudly and hobbles around my legs. I drop my case and pick her up. “I missed you Stitch.” I whisper. She mews and nuzzles my face. “I love you.”I mutter. I begin to sob.

Stitch mews sweetly and licks my face. I plop down on the sofa and wail at my empty house. My heart aches for August. I need him so badly it hurts. But I left him behind with no way for me to contact him. What a fool I am! A fool in love.

I cannot mope around forever.

Reza comes over to London and we hang out as though we see each other every day. We watch stupid video’s on youtube and grab lunch at Golders Green. I stack up on Asian snacks from the small Korean store and we laugh like we used to do.

I don’t tell Reza about August. It is too private. It is only between me and August. None of Reza’s business…

I go back to work when Reza heads back to The Netherlands, and pick my life back up. I work on my book and go to my favourite places in London.

#August Walker x Self #August Walker #Henry Cavill #mission impossible

[adz]

in case you were needing it, here is my attempt at creating a comprehensive, mostly chronological list of every song sufjan stevens wrote/released as a solo act

A Sun Came We Are What You Say A Winner Needs a Wand Rake Siamese Twins Demetrius Dumb I Sound Wordsworth’s Ridge Belly Button Rice Pudding A Loverless Bed (Without Remission) Godzuki Super Sexy Woman The Oracle Said Wander Happy Birthday Jason Kill Ya Leil A Sun Came Satan’s Saxophones

Eye of the Beholder All Delighted People

8.21: A Blue Bunny Compilation Woman at the Well Far Physician’s Son

Seen Unseen Damascus

Enjoy Your Rabbit Year of the Asthmatic Cat Year of the Monkey Year of the Rat Year of the Ox Year of the Boar Year of the Tiger Year of the Snake Year of the Sheep Year of the Rooster Year of the Dragon Year of the Rabbit Year of the Dog Year of the Horse Year of Our Lord

To Spirit Back the Mews God’ll Ne’er Let You Down Bushwick Junkie I Can’t Even Life My Head

Michigan Flint All Good Naysayers For the Widows in Paradise Say Yes! To M!ch!gan! The Upper Peninsula Tahquamenon Falls Holland Detroit Romulus Alanson, Crooked River Sleeping Bear, Sault Saint Marie They Also Mourn Oh God, Where Are You Now? Redford Vito’s Ordination Song --- Marching Band Pickerel Lake Niagara Falls Presidents and Magistrates Wolverine

Hope Isn’t a Word Borderline

Metaphysics for Beginners How Can the Stone Remain?

Seven Swans All the Trees The Dress Looks Nice on You In the Devil’s Territory To Be Alone with You Abraham Sister Size Too Small We Won’t Need Legs to Stand A Good Man Is Hard to Find He Woke Me Up Again Seven Swans The Transfiguration --- I Went Dancing with My Sister Waste of What Your Kids Won’t Have Illinois Concerning the UFO Sighting The Black Hawk War Come On! Feel the Illinoise! John Wayne Gacy, Jr. Jacksonville A Short Reprise Decatur One Last “Whoo-Hoo!” Go! Chicago! Go! Yeah! Casimir Pulaski Day To the Workers of the Rock River Valley Region The Man of Metropolis Prairie Fire That Wanders About A Conjunction of Drones The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades They Are Night Zombies!! Let’s Hear That String Part Again In This Temple as in the Hearts of Man The Seer’s Tower The Tallest Man, the Broadest Shoulders Riffs and Variations Out of Egypt

NPR single The Lord God Bird

The Avalanche The Avalanche Dear Mr. Supercomputer Adlai Stevenson The Vivian Girls The Henney Buggy Band Saul Bellow Carlyle Lake Springfield The Mistress Witch from McClure Kaskaskia River Inaugural Pop Music No Man’s Land The Palm Sunday Tornado The Pick-Up The Perpetual Self For Clyde Tombaugh Pittsfield The Undivided Self

Mews Too Opie’s Funeral Song

Songs for Christmas ---I We’re Goin’ to the Country! It’s Christmas! Let’s Be Glad! ---II Put The Lights On The Tree Only at Christmas Time ---III Come On! Let’s Boogey to the Elf Dance! That Was the Worst Christmas Ever Ding! Dong! All the King’s Horns ---IV Hey Guys! It’s Christmas Time! Did I Make You Cry on Christmas? (Well, You Deserved It!) The Incarnation ---V Get Behind Me, Santa! Christmas in July Jupiter Winter Sister Winter Star of Wonder The Winter Solstice

The Believer In the Words of the Governor

The BQE Prelude on the Esplanade Introductory Fanfare for the Hooper Heroes Movement I: In the Countenance of Kings Movement II: Sleeping Invader Interlude I: Dream Sequence in Subi Circumnavigation Movement III: Linear Tableau with Intersecting Surprise Movement IV: Traffic Shock Movement V: Self-Organizing Emergent Patterns Interlude II: Subi Power Waltz Interlude III: Invisible Accidents Movement VI: Isorhythmic Night Dance with Interchanges Movement VII (Finale): The Emperor of Centrifuge Postlude: Critical Mass --- The Sleeping Red Wolves

Single: Sofia’s Song

All Delighted People All Delighted People Enchanting Ghost Heirloom From the Mouth of Gabriel The Owl and the Tanager Arnika Djohariah Side D

The Age of Adz Futile Devices Too Much Age of Adz I Walked Now That I’m Older Get Real, Get Right Bad Communication Vesuvius All for Myself I Want to Be Well Impossible Soul

Silver & Gold ---VI Lumberjack Christmas The Midnight Clear St. Benjamin the Bearded One Barcarola ---VII Christmas Woman Happy Family Christmas Mysteries of the Christmas Mist Behold! The Birth of Man, the Face of Glory Ding-a-ling-a-ring-a-ling Mr. Frosty Man Make Haste to See the Baby Eternal Happiness or Woe I Am Santa’s Helper Even the Earth Will Perish ---VIII Christmas in the Room Particle Physics The Child with the Star on His Head ---IX X-mas Spirit Catcher ---X Happy Karma Christmas Justice Delivers Its Death Christmas Unicorn

Carrie & Lowell Death with Dignity Should Have Known Better All of Me Wants All of You Drawn to the Blood Eugene Fourth of July The Only Thing Carrie & Lowell John My Beloved No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross Blue Bucket of Gold

One Night Stand #1 Harsh Noise

Exploding Whale single

The Greatest Gift Wallowa Lake Monster The Greatest Gift The Hidden River of My Life City of Roses

CMBYN Singles Mystery of Love Visions of Gideon

Tonya Harding single

Lonely Man of Winter single

The Ascension Make Me An Offer I Cannot Refuse Run Away with Me Video Game Lamentations Tell Me You Love Me Die Happy Ativan Ursa Major Landslide Gilgamesh Death Star Goodbye to All That Sugar The Ascension America

Live Only Majesty Snowbird The 50 States Song Many Guides Maple River

#please let me know if you notice anything i missed OR mistakenly included #sufjan stevens #some letters are bolded in the post but not in the editor so i can't fix it? whatever lol

[jj-lynn21]

Take a seat ch 2

Warnings: teasing, flirtation,  

Notes: Some movies mentioned are contenders for 2021 Oscars according to Golden Derby predicts Hollywood races. I will link each movie to its IMDB page in case you want more information. 

Song: Adona - Hit me with your Best shot from Birds of Prey: And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn 

ch 1 ch 3  ch 4

You are given a small earpiece to hear when they want you to move and where to go. Also, there will be escorts to help you find tables you should sit at. Your current escort seats you at a front table. The small card at the table says, The 5 Bloods.  No one is seated at the table with you yet.

You haven’t heard of this movie or maybe you have. You are still excited for the actors to start showing up. Other seat fillers are seated around the room in various places. A production assistant makes a few tests with your earpiece.

“Raise your right hand if you can hear me perfectly fine,” She said.

You raise your right hand.

“Good,” She whispered lower. “Can you still hear me? go to the table behind you and sit down.”

You do as you heard. You do hope the person speaks loud and clear during the time you need to move.

“Thank you,” She said in a normal louder tone. “Just stay there until we tell you where to go next.”

You look at the small placard that said, Ma Rainey's Black Bottom  . It is about five in the evening when actors start streaming in the door to find their seats. George Clooney walks towards the front tables with his wife Amal.

You hear in your earpiece, “Go to your last location.”

You go sit where you were at first. Spike Lee sits down with his wife Tonya and other crew and caste. But when Chadwick Boseman sits down across from him with his girlfriend Taylor Simone it takes effort not to speak.

Taylor breaks the ice by politely saying, “hello” to you.

You politely say, “hello” back.

“Hey, there,” Spike notices you as not one of the people in his movie. “You our first seat filler for this evening?”

“Yes, I am,” you smile.

“You doing this because you’re an actress, writer or just fan?” He asked.

“I’ve been an extra in a few movies.” You answered. “I enjoyed that.” You were trying to act completely casual as the camera passed over the table. It would be rude not to answer his questions.

When he asked you what productions you have been a part of, you answer politely. He was familiar with the movies you tell him. You hear in your earpiece,  “Excuse yourself. Walk to your right of the table if you face the entrance. Kenny will show you where to go next.”

“Excuse me.” You smile as you get up, “It was nice chatting with you.”

After you take a few steps in the direction you were supposed to go, a guy with blond slicked back hair offers his arm, “I’m Kenny. We will be taking you up to what will look like a standing room only section in front of the stage. Make sure to act extremely excited for the performance.”

“No problem,” You whisper.

You had no idea who the musical act would be, so you were really excited. Margot Robbie stepped out on stage a bit right of the area they put you to stand. Entry music plays.

Robbie smiles, “Welcome to the 93rd Oscars everyone.” She pauses for clapping. You clap along jumping up and down a little bit. “I did a movie called Birds of Prey: And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn.” People start screaming and clapping so you do also.  “Our first singers are here to Preform the Oscar nominated song written by Eddie Schwartz Hit Me with Your Best Shot.   Here are Adona with the original Rock Goddess performer of the song Pat Benatar  in a one-time only Oscar moment. 

She walked off stage as the curtain came up to the two women with microphones sitting in chairs. The slow melodic music plays in the background. Adona starts singing, Pat Benatar echoes the chorus. The camera falls over where you are watching like a deer in headlights adoring what you are hearing.

The music crescendo by the second chorus. They both stand as the classic guitar riff of the original song plays. Benatar jumps into the lead with a more powerful vocal while Adona echoes the chorus with her smooth sound. It sounds amazing. Everyone is screaming, dancing and clapping including you.

During the reset you are escorted over to the table to sit by George Clooney while his wife is away. Other than a small head nod of acknowledgement from Clooney the table pays no attention to you. It is still entertaining to listen in on their conversation as you pretend not to.  

Brad Pitt, Gena Davis and Susan Sarandon come out on stage to some rousing applause.

          Sarandon: It has been thirty years since we worked together in Thelma                                and Louise and we are still looking damn Hot. 

The crowd cheers.

         Sarandon: Still one of the hottest men in this room Brad.

She leans back looking at his ass. Pitt blushes.

        Pitt: Thanks Susan, it was a memorable acting experience. And you young                 ladies look fabulous.

        Davis and Sarandon: Thank you Brad.  

        Davis: Tonight, we are here to present the award our film won Once Upon a                   Time in America. 

Brad Pitt and audience including yourself laugh at the Pitt movie reference joke.

          Davis: The nominees for Best Written Screenplay Directly for the Screen                        are, Ironbark written by Tom O’Connor,

           Sarandon: The Northman written by Robert Eggers and Sjon Sigurdsson

           Pitt: And Nine Days written by Edson Oda

           Pitt, Davis, Sarandon: And the winner is Nine Days written by Edson Oda

Everyone claps. As Oda makes his way to the stage you hear in your earpiece. “Stand and walk around the right of the table to your handler.” You do what you are told as Amal comes back to sit with her husband.

You are escorted over to sit at The Northman table while Nicole is absent. Bill Skarsgard is harassing his brother Alex about being in the first winner’s film. Alex pretends to choke him out as the camera captures the moment when Oda thanks Bill and the other actors for all their work on the film.

Alex notices you, “Hey, I think Nicole shrank or something.”

You and Bill laugh.

“Hey, Keith.” Alex gets Nicole’s Husband’s attention. “What do you think about your new shorter wife? You won’t have to look up so much anymore.”

He shrugs. You are laughing hysterically.  

“Maybe she is just our new Princess,” Bill suggests with a smile.

You can’t help but smile back at him and decide to add to his narrative, “Yes, my Lord.” You bow your head.

Alex looks between you and Bill and smirks. “Is that right?” Alex  rubs his newly shaven chin looking at you as if trying to tell if you are worthy.

You get a message on the earpiece. “Get up and go to the right around the table to your handle.”

You stand and bow again, “Excuse me my Lords.” You go around the table.

Bill stands and takes your hand kissing the top, “You are welcome in our Kingdom any time Princess.”

You blush and giggle, “Thank you my Lord.”

Your handler waits for Bill to sit down before he escorts away from the table.

#fantasy #fanfic #fan fiction #being an extra #being a seat filler #awards #alex skarsgard #bill skarsgard #original story #au #creative writing #writing

[ofallplaceswhythis]

tcoptp thoughts pt.11

tbh i dont even remember where I left off but i do know that 'padfoot' was born, sirius broke up chasity, james can hear colours [and he ISNT drunk while doing that] and.... (???)

but anyway - now im at 61, so, ig whatever was before that and after ch 59 is what i read (pretty sure but idec anymore)

holy fuck barty actually talks with his dad wowwwww

'your own closet is turning a bit see through' ily sirius

Why was bartyy so touchy about the whole 'liking remus' thing.....

'better then bad teeth' remus ily

stop stop stop i dont want angst PLS :(

yknow what, i didnt think it was possible, but I actually hate someone more than snape. FUCK YOU BARTY JUST YOU WAIT IM GONNA WRITE A 10 LINE INSULT ABOUT YOU TOO YOU SLIMY LITTLE GIT

Sheila and Remus are like Remus and Harry and thats-

....atleast they love each other?? :)

I mean the prank is great but wtf is happening [pls be brothers]

no no no no no not the swim, sirius please whyyyy

PLEASE TELL ME YOU GET THAT REMUS PLEASE

everytime i see sirius going 'too far' i break down. like why would you cause me this much pain on a Wednesday???

Im not reading this. sorry, but no. no fucking way. im a coward and im proud of it so its only the aftermath for me :<)

tbh it was kinda predictable that remus got doused in gore

no shut up the 'im a black through and through' will break me you don't understand

ooo personal memories sharing #2

fluff is the greatest thing in the world i literally cannot stop smiling thank u

SIRIUS IS PLAYING THE PIANO. YEYDGYG

remus saying 'youre glorious' to both tonya and Sirius saying that to him :")!! BUT Remus said that as a way of saying 'i love you', so does Sirius say that in the same way?? Am i analyzing too much?

THEY WERE GONNA DO SOMETHING!! THEY WERE GONNA DO SOMETHING AND IT GOT RUINED!! NO :(

#the cadence of part time poets #my thoughts #sirius black #remus lupin #regulus black #lily evans

[we-are-only-halfway-home93]

Come and Lay the Roses 8- Anyone Who’s Ever Been Lonely- [Ivar x OC]

Summary: Preparation for the wedding puts things in perspective.

Characters: Ivar x OC, Bjorn x Torvi, Ubbe x Margrethe, Hvitserk x Thora, Sigurd x OC, Ragnar, Lagertha

Warnings: Arranged marriage, language, violence, sex, torture

Word Count: 3321

Ch. 7

Author’s Note: Today has been busy! I had plans to get this posted sooner but it’s my mom’s birthday tomorrow and we celebrated today. We went to the Farmer’s Market and then we had tickets to a baseball game and then we had dinner and between all that I didn’t have time to post this until later. Anyway, Chapter 8 of “Come and Lay the Roses”. Also, the next chapter is the wedding!

“Strength and vulnerability are not mutually exclusive. Give yourself permission to experience both.” ~ Tonya Renee

It wasn’t even a month after the engagement party and the wedding was around the corner. Aaline and Ivar had not discussed the events of the engagement party but it had put a strain on their fragile friendship. Aaline had been tightlipped and tense around Ivar and he had been scarce around the house. Sibylle had asked Aaline what had happened but she kept her mouth shut. As frustrated as she was at Ivar, he was still going to be her husband and she wasn’t going to air their dirty laundry for all to see. Especially because Sibylle was married to Sigurd and everyone knew how Sigurd despised Ivar. He would just use their engagement party as another thing to taunt Ivar with. Aaline wouldn’t let him do that.

She had taken to releasing her frustrations at the gym like she usually did. Ivar had not joined her in several weeks. She assumed he was either angry or frustrated by her attitude during their engagement party. She wasn’t sorry. He should’ve been grateful that she didn’t follow through on her promise. She had warned him during their first meeting that if he ever touched her without her permission she’d cut his balls off. He was probably off somewhere nursing his wounded pride.

She glanced up when a presence made itself known at the doorway. Ivar was staring at her, his hands held in front of him wrapped in white tape. He was massaging the palms of his hands with his thumbs, switching back and forth between left and right as he stared at her. She took a deep breath through her nose and went back to the punching bag.

She didn’t let up when Ivar came around to the other side. She continued to ignore him even as he took hold of the bag and held it steady. She glared at him but his face remained impassive. She felt a tide of frustration rising in her. She didn’t know where it was coming from but she knew it was directed at him. His stupid opinions about them, his stupid preconceptions of her, his stupid attitude, his stupid face.

She delivered a solid hit to the bag that was centimeters from his face. He jerked back and swore, releasing the punching bag. “What do you want?” She panted. She could feel the heat in her face and little trails of sweat rolling down her face. She set her hands on her hips and waited for him to speak.

He licked his bottom lip and tucked it between his teeth. Aaline ignored the knot that clenched in her belly when he did that. He sighed and shook his head. “If this is your way of apologizing for the way you treated me the other night, I don’t accept.” He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t apologize.” He said. She nodded, her eyebrows high. He rolled his eyes again and looked away.

She waited for him to speak, to say anything to make up for his behavior. She didn’t have to know Ivar well to know that apologizing was not something that he did. Ever. She had it in her mind that none of the Lothbrok men apologized for anything. They didn’t seem the type to do things and feel sorry about them. She wasn’t sorry for the way she acted at their engagement party and she didn’t think Ivar was either.

She turned away from him and back to the punching bag. She was setting up her stance when he spoke. “Hvitserk says that the best way to get around this,” She turned to face him when he cut off. He was gesturing in front of him, circling his hand in the air, trying to come up with the right word. She didn’t think there was a word to describe their situation. “Setback,” he looked at her for confirmation and she nodded once for him to continue. “He says we should talk about...life.” He made a face when he finished speaking, almost as if he thought the idea itself was ludicrous.

She snorted and rested her hands on her hips. “What, like, my life? Your life? Life in general? What does that mean?” Ivar rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t know but I don’t think he’s wrong.” She straightened and stared at him, gauging his expression.

He appeared open and honest. He didn’t look like he was trying to be difficult. He genuinely looked like he was making an effort which was saying something. Ivar was not one to try at something if he didn’t think he would get anything out of it. If she was honest, she knew she would be more difficult if there wasn’t common ground. The two of them individually would make the others life miserable if they really wanted to. Ivar didn’t even really have to try to be difficult. It was truly just in his nature to make life unbearable for those around him.

He was an ambitious man and he knew what he wanted and he wasn’t afraid to go after it. He didn’t believe in beating around the bush or pulling his punches. Life was easier for everyone if you were just honest and that was something that Ivar lived by. He didn’t believe that anyone benefitted from lies and he made it a point in his life to tell people the truth.

Now, a drawback to this particular way of life was that Ivar was painfully honest to the point where people were offended. Honesty was Ivar’s preferred method of communication, however, he was not particularly kind when delivering his honesty. He generally got joy out of watching people’s faces change colors when he told them the truth. He would deliver his opinion in a way that both told the truth and offended so as to see how many different shades of purple he could see across a person’s face.

Aaline found the trait both annoying and endearing. A part of her thought it was callous and childish while another part of her thought it was humorous and refreshing. It wasn’t very often in the business world that someone had the balls to tell the god's honest truth.

She shook herself and turned away from, reaching down for her water and towel. She had straightened back up and was headed out the door when Ivar spoke again. “When I was a child, my father tried to kill me.” Aaline stopped at the threshold. She circled her tongue inside her bottom lip, her thoughts racing through her mind, trying to settle on one. She turned back to face Ivar.

He was staring at her, his face blank and his eyes unfocused. “I was born with Developmental Dysplasia of the Hip, DDH, for short and my parents didn’t do anything about it. My mother blamed my father and my father blamed my mother but neither one of them thought to do anything about it.” He was recalling facts and events like they happened to someone else. It was almost like he was explaining someone else's life events to her.

“My father noticed that I hadn’t started crawling like the rest of my brothers. He watched me after that, to see if I was just behind but when I should’ve been walking and wasn’t he figured something was wrong.”

He shifted his weight and Aaline glanced down at his legs. Looking at them now, she didn’t see anything wrong with them. They were tanned and corded with muscle. At their first meeting, Aaline had noticed that he favored his left side and walked with a slight limp. Nothing that was too obvious but Aaline knew to look for it.

She brought her eyes back up to his face when he pressed on. “My father had been on a business trip and just returned the night I was conceived. He woke my mother and she told him of a dream she had. She said that Ragnar was not to touch her for three days or the child she would conceive would be damaged, broken.” He shook his head and glanced down. She wasn’t sure if he was looking at his hands clasped in front of him or the toes of his trainers but she didn’t have time to linger before he spoke again.

“My father didn’t listen to her and they were overjoyed when I was born and they saw nothing wrong with me. It wasn’t until I was old enough to be walking that Ragnar knew something was wrong. He approached my mother and, according to Ubbe, she raged at him and shouted that nothing was wrong with me, I was just as the gods intended.” He snorted and shook his head, a self-deprecating smile gracing his face.

“For days they argued over what to do with me. Ragnar thought that having useless legs was no way to live life. Aslaug argued that there was nothing wrong with me and it was my father’s fault if there was. She told him the consequences of laying with her that night and he didn’t listen and if there was anything wrong with me, it was his fault.

“Well, Ragnar decided that modern medicine couldn’t fix me so he took me out to the woods behind the house one night and left me there. He figured the elements would take me or the animals would.” He laughed without humor and looked away. Aaline felt such a rush of sympathy well up in her chest, tears stung her eyes. She held them back though and continued to watch Ivar. He shifted his weight and she could tell that it pained him.

“My mother followed him and found me by a creek, still swaddled in my blanket. She took me back inside and wouldn’t let my father touch me. It was actually Lagertha who suggested they seek medical attention. I was, maybe, two years old. The doctor’s revealed that I had DDH.” He gestured to his hip and turned slightly to face her. “The ball of my femur was removed from the socket joint and had been for some time. I was too old so they had to do surgery.”

He tugged on the waist of his shorts and she could see a thin, white scar on his hip that was roughly six inches long. “After the surgery, I had to wear a cast for three months and then I started learning how to walk. It wasn’t until I was in high school that I noticed pains in my hips and knees. Mother thought my DDH had returned but father wasn’t so sure. Turned out just to be Inflammatory Arthritis of the Hip.” He gave an indifferent shrug and met her eyes.

“There’s no cure so I just have to manage it. Björn started teaching me to box. Activity helps alleviate some of the pain so I try to stay active. It’s worse in the morning but eases up throughout the day. I just take ibuprofen throughout the day and that usually helps so…” He stopped and looked up at her from beneath his brows. It was like his version of “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours”. She rolled her eyes and cleared her throat.

She wasn’t ready to reveal her darkest stories. She didn’t feel like she knew Ivar well enough to go into those details. She tried to think of something that would put them back on even footing. She glanced up at him and took a deep breath.

“My father killed my mother.” She heard him suck in a sharp breath and she looked up. His chest expanded rapidly and his eyes were shrouded in darkness. His face turned down and he looked angry. “I was seven when she died.” She shook her head and looked away. She kept her eyes on the window high in the wall that filtered in the sunlight. “They were driving home from some benefit that supported my father’s company. He’d been drinking apparently and thought he was fine. Well, he wasn’t.”

She took a deep shuddering breath and licked her lips. Her mouth was dry and she couldn’t bring herself to speak louder than a whisper.

“He swerved and ran off the road into a ditch. The car flipped three times before it stopped. My mother was taken to the hospital where she was pronounced DOA and my father blew a blood alcohol content of .10. He was arrested and charged with driving while intoxicated and negligent vehicular manslaughter.

“I don’t know if it was because I was so young or because it was his first offense. Maybe it was because he had money, I don’t know.”

Aaline crossed her arms over her chest and clasped her elbows. She felt small all of a sudden. She hadn’t felt like this since she was in high school and she didn’t much like the feeling.

“Either way, he got ninety days, time served, and a ten thousand dollar fine that was like pocket change to him. The next fall I was shipped off to my first boarding school and saw my father when I was causing problems so,” She looked up at Ivar and he had a calculating look on his face. She wasn’t sure what he was trying to calculate but she pressed on, ready to be finished “showing him hers”.

“So I caused problems. It didn’t matter anyway. He stuck around long enough to see me off to the next boarding school and then he was gone again. By the time I was old enough to understand why I didn’t care anymore.” She nodded and felt her chest expand to a distance she hadn’t felt in a long time. She looked up at Ivar in confusion. He seemed to sense the same kind of weight leaving the room and he nodded once toward the punching bag.

“Go again?”

.

The rehearsal dinner started much the same way that the engagement party had. She and Ivar greeted guests at the front door and kindly directed them towards the sitting area in the backyard. The brother’s and their wives led guests towards empty seats and mingled to keep them occupied.

Aaline was surprised to see Ecbert waltz through the door like he owned the place. She hadn’t seen him at the engagement party but she knew he had been there. Aethelwulf’s presence had been enough of a clue but she wasn’t sure why he’d been invited to the rehearsal dinner. She felt that it was another show of power or even a show of position. Either way, she didn’t ask, and Ivar didn’t tell her if Ecbert was invited or if he was just crashing.

Everything was fine up until the actual rehearsal of the ceremony. Lagertha said that Ives would be walking Aaline down the aisle and she refused. Lagertha stopped and stared at the back of her head. Sibylle was doing her hair again for the rehearsal dinner and her hands had frozen in Aaline’s waves as soon as she’d spoken.

Torvi, Thora and Margrethe were already outside, waiting for Aaline to appear so they could begin the procession. “Aaline, he’s your father. It’s his job to walk you down the aisle.” Aaline was firm on this decision. “For the last few weeks, he’s simply been another member of my board. As far as I’m concerned, he hasn’t been my father for years.”

Lagertha made eye contact with Sibylle who shrugged and continued working her fingers through Aaline’s hair. She heard Lagertha sigh and leave the room. Sibylle wove her fingers in and out of Aaline’s hair, twisting the braids around each other.

“He is your father, Aaline. It’s his job to walk you down the aisle.” Aaline leaned forward, pulling her hair from Sibylle’s adept fingers. Sibylle dropped her hands and met Aaline’s eyes in the mirror. “It doesn’t matter what his job is. It’s his job to love me and he’s been doing a bang up job of that, hasn’t he.”

.

“I don’t understand why I have to wear a suit. It’s just the rehearsal dinner.” Ivar was adjusting his tie again as he and his brother’s waited for the women to start the procession.

Lagertha had just whisked the women off to the far corner of the back patio and was whispering in hushed tones. Whatever it was, it had severely messed up her plans and she looked like she was scrambling to find a remedy.

Ivar had to keep himself from snorting out loud. She had spent the last several months planning this wedding down to a T and if Aaline did anything to bungle her plans, he would kiss the ground she walked on.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Lagertha. She was his father’s first wife and she was incredibly loyal to him. He never cared for the way she treated his mother. Granted, Aslaug had been the other woman and, essentially, usurped Lagertha from her place beside Ragnar but Ragnar had wanted to marry them both. It was Lagertha who chose to leave and divorce him.

Ivar never liked the way that Lagertha looked at Aslaug. It didn’t help that she attended the funeral and didn’t cry. Everyone else was weeping but Lagertha had stood next to Ragnar with her head held high and a smile on her face. He had felt a resentment so profound that he knew it would never leave him. It had faded over time but he still harbored a deep resentment towards Lagertha and her place beside his father, no matter how misplaced.

He stopped messing with his tie when Torvi came over and pushed his hands out of the way. She reached up and adjusted the knot, loosening it. She stared at his throat when she spoke. “Aaline refuses to let her father walk her down the aisle and Lagertha wants you to try to convince her.”

Ivar quirked an eyebrow. He waited until Torvi looked up at him before responding. “I don’t blame her. He’s a right prick.” Torvi’s eyes widened near to bursting and Hvitserk snorted. Björn cleared his throat and pushed his wife gently to the side. “What do you mean, Ivar?”

Ivar tilted his head back a little and went back to pulling at his tie. He undid the knot. “If I could, I would kick him off this property and kindly ask him never to return.” He tugged on the tie and it whipped through the air, snapping against his collar so sharply that it startled Ubbe and Sigurd. He sent a shark-like smile towards them and wound the fabric around his knuckles. “After all, he is the reason her mother is dead.”

Torvi gasped almost imperceptibly but Ivar heard and offered her a placating smile. She took a step back and looked up at Björn. Her husband offered a comforting hand.

“Let Ragnar do it.” Ivar huffed. He finished curling his tie around his hand before sliding it inside his jacket pocket. He looked up at the stunned faces of his brother’s as he undid the first two buttons of his white button-up.

“He already calls her a daughter of Ragnar. At least this way he’ll actually get to walk her down the aisle instead of watching from the sidelines.” He said to Torvi. He set his hands in his pockets and nodded towards Lagertha. He watched her whisper to the older woman before she jerked her head to look at him. Ivar’s smile was threating.

She disappeared back inside the house and not five minutes later, a visibly nervous Sibylle appeared followed quickly by Lagertha and then his father and his fiance. He turned to face the altar and clapped his hands together once.

“Let’s get this show on the road.”

tags: @funmadnessandbadassvikings @jay-bel @bcarolinablr 

#ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar x oc #bjorn x torvi #Bjorn Ironside #Ubbe Lothbrok #ubbe x margrethe #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk x thora #sigurd lothbrok #sigurd x oc #Ragnar Lothbrok #lagertha #vikings #crime #modern au #mafia au #arranged marriage #slow burn #come and lay the roses

[wannabeauthorclive]

[Image ID: Dark blue banner of the ocean with four pirate ships saying “Over Land and Sea” with “Camp NaNo WIP Update” underneath. End ID]

I’m I allowed to do one of these? I know it’s only day 2 of nano, but I really want to do one. So here I am.

Project — Over Land and Sea

End Goal — 30,000 words

Daily Goal — 1,000 words

Total written — 3,879 words

After today, I will do one of these weekly and not daily. I think that would be overwhelming for the all of us if I did one daily. Unless y’all want me to do one a day, cause I totally will! But for now, every Sunday!

~~~

Day 1

Words: 2,271

Notes: For not being able to write the past week and a half, I was really glad that I had a good first day of writing! I really wasn’t expecting that so it was a nice surprise! I also got to start on chapter 1 with Silver Sterling and Ira and I love writing them! 

Excerpt:

“Ahh, yes, and as I’ve said before, we could get quite a few pieces of gold if we turned ourselves over.” It was a grand adventure that the two of them went on to become fugitives of the biggest kingdom in Algotos. A grand one indeed.

“And as I’ve said before, what’s a few pieces of gold when we have millions? I don’t know why you’re complaining. Haven’t I kept you content here in Pelek?” Silver questions lightheartedly.

“Of course, my love, but a few more dangerous adventures here and there have never hurt anyone.” Ira rebuts, her eyes shinning in humor.

“I don’t think you know the meaning of danger if you believe that it’s never hurt anyone. We’ve been on more dangerous adventures than I have fingers and toes.” Silver laughs.

“We’ve been on more dangerous adventures than you have gold,” Ira places a kiss on Silver’s forehead. “I’m just saying that a few more… would be quite an adventure.”

Day 2

Words: 1,064

Notes: Today wasn’t as good of a writing day, but I still hit my daily goal so it was good! Captain black is such a different character than the sophisticated Silver Sterling so it was a big jump to go from someone always posed to a pirate. But I loved the jump anyway!

Excerpt:

She heads leaves the stern and crosses the main deck to find Tonya. On her way, she passes Braveheart where — she checks their wrist, no bracelet — he is keeping all the ropes in place. “Aye, Captain! Where you off to? Forester is manning ship.” He calls, pulling another rope and opening the sail so they can gain more speed from the light wind. Black doesn’t worry that Forester is at the wheel, just as long someone is, all is well.

“I’m looking for Tonya!” Everyone on the ship talks loud, there’s a lot of noise on sea, with lots of enthusiasm. “You know where I can find her?” Braveheart just smiles, points up, and continues working. Black looks to where he pointed, and sure enough, Tonya is up on the spar doing a handstand.

Seeing Black waving from the main deck, Tonya does a backflip and lands on a lower part of the mast and continues to work her way down. Black is always in awe when she sees Tonya up there, flipping and balancing. She could never do that, and it impresses her every time.

“You called?” Tonya asks as she hits deck.

Black grins, “I don’t remember calling.”

“Well hurry with what you have to say, the sun’s out and the wind is low.” She points skyward, “I should be up there.”

I know I’m only just starting my first draft of this novel but I am loving it! All my characters are amazing and yes, I am straying a bit from my outline, but all is well and I like it better this way!

Taglist: @baguettethebooklover @a-completely-normal-girl @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @hysteriwah @tiredlittleoldme @the-writing-avocado @vellichor-virgo @radiomacbeth @wildwrites @crowewritesstuff @crystallized-ink​ @strangerays​ @47crayons @ladywithalamp (ask to be +/-)

#wip. over land and sea #zofija rambles #olas excerpts #my writing #wip excerpts #ch. silver sterling #ch. captain black #ch. ira flexor #ch. tonya #ch. braveheart

[kazablanka96]

“You have license in front of the camera to do things, feel certain emotions that you don’t get to in real life. It can be addicting.” - Sebastian Stan

#happy birthday Seb you talented romanian prince #Sebastian Stan #sebastianstanedit #sebstanedit #Bucky Barnes #buckybarnesedit #charles blackwood #we have always lived in the castle #destroyer #i tonya #lance tucker #blaine hot tub time machine #seb ch #mine #my gif set

[insanityclause]

Yikes on the whole Ch and hulk Hogan movie.

Hulk Hogan really? I truly believe everyone can be a better person. After committing a big mistake once people can properly apologize & make amends. But I generally don’t like the idea of making a biopic for one who is still alive. These films tend to be used to boost that real person’s career. I didn’t like the premise of “I, Tonya,” and as I expected Harding was brought to Oscar parties. Waiting for CH posting his selfie with HH everywhere, smiling prettily, ignorantly. HH will feel so proud.

Lord, Hogan will work as an exe producer. It will never be a “critical” assessment of a controversial figure. It will be a narcissistic representation of a pathetic old man whose muscles & racism we have better leave alone for a good while. CH is producing too. I assume he knows full well what he is doing, rather than what his agency tells him to do. This is what I don’t like about him. He does what HE wants for HIS fame & money, without thinking much about the possible harm(s) he can make.

First, let me say that I loved I, Tonya - though I can also cringe at Tonya going to Oscar parties. But it was, at least, looking back at her career/relationships in a critical way, as the last anon mentioned. The same way I’m looking forward to the Zac Efron Ted Bundy movie... (and yes, before people jump in, I do know all his victims’ names, and have for years) because I think it will be a critical look at him and at the threat that charm/charisma bring with them.

That being said, I’m fully in agreement with the last anon here -- it looks like it’s going to be a comedy (?) that covers none of the more recent bad (the time frame is the 80s/rise of Wrestlemania) while putting HH in a good light. And that, I do find problematic. It’s kind of the opposite of the other movies I mentioned. 

[write-havoc]

This Is How I Disappear Ch. 55

Summary: A girl named Chuck finds herself in the exact place she doesn't want to be, living with violent men in a desolate nursing home. After her former gym teacher finds her, will he be the savior she was looking for?

Fandom: The Walking Dead AU

Pairing: Negan/Original Female Character

Status: Ongoing

Contains: swearing, violence, sexual assault, blood, smut

Intended for readers 18+ of age only

Masterlist

Some time passes at The Sanctuary. After Negan and Chuck finally get back home, they get back to their normal lives. Though there are a few changes.

Negan orders extra guards to stay upstairs on the fifth floor. In addition to Sam and José, Arat and Laura are added to the rotation. José and Sam keep their same post on the stairwell while Arat and Laura cover the freight elevator on the other end of the hall, making it so there are always two guards on the floor at all times. That is, when Chuck is upstairs.

When Chuck is downstairs, the woman on duty follows her like a bodyguard. It annoys Chuck at first, but she understands why Negan asked them to do it. And Laura and Arat do their best to be unobtrusive, which Chuck appreciates. They stay just far enough away that Chuck has her space, but close enough that they could step in if need be.

Even though Negan is true to his word and doesn’t leave the gates, he still has to do his job around The Sanctuary everyday, which leaves Chuck completely alone upstairs. For the first time in her life, she actually doesn’t enjoy being by herself so much. She figures it probably has something to do with being locked up in that room at Eldritch’s compound, completely alone for most of the day. Or maybe it’s just that she’s changing to be more open to people. For the first few days back, she would walk the hall outside her and Negan’s apartment. She’d start at one end and talk to either José or Sam, then walk to the other end and talk to Laura or Arat, whoever was on duty. Then she’d turn around and do it all over again.

But that is still too claustrophobic. So instead, she starts to walk around The Sanctuary. For hours she would just walk and observe everyone around her. People would talk to her pleasantly, but they’d also fuss about her. Asking her if she’s okay, if she needs to eat or needs water, coming up to her with chairs so she can “rest”. She knows they mean well, but it’s still kind of annoying.

She visits with the former wives in all their different rooms, too. Sherry has taken to working in the kitchen full-time and living with Dwight. And Chuck admits that Sherry looks happier with him. Kayla and her boyfriend Felix have gotten more serious, so she decides to permanently move in with him. Though she still makes routine visits to Chuck to check up on her and the baby when she’s not on shift in the infirmary or checking on Amber, who is nearing the end of her pregnancy. Frankie and Tonya get their own room on the third floor, their relationship together more than official now. Tonya spends her days at her chair in the marketplace giving haircuts and Frankie has her massage table set up nearby. She tells Chuck that business is good; there are always people willing to spend their points to feel a little better.

Chuck decides that she needs something to actually do with her time, so she starts teaching the kids music again. When they seem so genuinely happy to have her back, Chuck swears that her heart swells. She enjoys teaching the children so much that she starts giving lessons in the afternoon to anyone that wants it, no matter the age. Some people that come in have absolutely no music experience, but some actually do. Class time is divided up into teaching those that need it and jamming out with those that can play.

That, too, fills Chuck’s heart with joy. They’re all in a place now where those little things, like music and art and fun , can come back. People aren’t just worried where the next meal is coming from. Or whether or not they’ll get attacked during the night. People are actually living.

Everyone is also enjoying the cemented alliance between the groups and the ease of passage between them. Negan and Rick have doubled down on fencing and barriers at the borders of the entire area, keeping the biters out. It’s not exactly free of the dead, but Negan’s domain is much safer than it once was.

The “dead zones”, as Negan calls them, are serving their purpose. The noise making devices that Eugene engineered are doing their job of drawing the dead into places that they can’t get out of, thus making the surrounding areas clear without any extra effort from Negan’s or Rick’s men. And once the temperature dips further, thus freezing the biters, all of them will be taken care of.

Because there are daily journeys between the groups, there is a freer exchange of goods and services. Alexandria has stopped needing support from The Sanctuary, so their relationship is based more on equal trade, just like everyone else. If someone at The Sanctuary needs metal goods, they trade for that with the blacksmith at Hilltop. If someone at Hilltop needs new clothes, the seamstress at Alexandria will oblige. And they all have unofficial areas that they scavenge from so there are always new goods to trade. Alexandria gets the north, Hilltop gets the west, and The Sanctuary gets the south and east.

Though Hilltop is still “owned” by Negan, it’s mostly autonomous. Negan trusts Jesus to  run the place well, and he has been. He gives Negan updates everyday and Negan gives his advice, but that’s pretty much the end of his involvement there. Nevertheless, Negan takes credit for their success under him, and no one is inclined to question him.

Though Chuck has been spending time downstairs, she does enjoy the occasional quiet day in her room with her cats lounging all over the place. Negan moved the animals back upstairs pretty much immediately, though he stipulated that they were not allowed in the nursery. Ever. Chuck conceded as long as she could cuddle with them in their bed. And despite what Negan says about the “furry bastards”, he still lets Moe curl up on his lap every time he sits in his office looking at the inventory sheets.

One day, while Chuck is walking around the marketplace, she sees a large whiteboard and gets an idea. After asking Arat nicely to carry it upstairs and help her put it up on the wall in the nursery, Chuck gets to work on it. Just as she’s finishes up, she hears Negan come home.

“Come in here, Negan,” she shouts. “I want to show you something.”

Negan steps into the room and gives her a kiss before turning to Chuck’s creation on the wall. She has turned the large whiteboard into a calendar, starting with the month of November (the current month) and ending in April with important days like Thanksgiving, winter solstice, Christmas, New Years, Easter, and the first day or spring all highlighted. But the most important day is more prominent than all the rest. April 2.

“You got my fuckin’ birthday wrong,” Negan says casually.

“What?” Chuck scrunches up her face in confusion. “I don’t have your birthday on here at all. I don’t actually know your birthday, I guess.”

“Then what’s that?” He points to the extra special date.

Chuck smiles wide and rests her hands on her belly. “That’s the due date.”

“Oh, shit!” Negan places his hand on Chuck’s belly, too and turns back to the calendar. “April second, huh?” He chuckles happily.

“When’s your birthday?” Chuck asks, realizing that she probably should’ve already known it.

“April seventh ,” he responds with a smirk. “We’ll be celebrating two fuckin’ birthdays in one week.”

“The baby might not come on that day exactly. She’ll decide when she’s ready.”

“Well, we’re gonna have a big fuckin’ party, regardless. Might be a dual birthday party.” He moves to stand behind Chuck and wraps his arms around her belly.

“So, how old are you gonna be anyway? Fifty......eight?” Chuck teases.

“The fuck you talking about, little girl? I’m not fuckin’ fifty eight!”

Chuck can’t help but laugh hard at her joke.

“I’ll be forty seven, for your fuckin’ information,” Negan fakes offense, causing Chuck to giggle more. “You know, you shouldn’t be laughing, Chuck. You’re the one fucking my old ass.”

They both pause then start to laugh together as Negan’s words sink in.

“Get your mind outta the fuckin’ gutter, perv,” Negan jokes. “I didn’t mean it that way.” He pauses. “Though I’m not opposed to the idea,” he tacks on with a smirk.

Chuck turns around in his arms and smacks his chest. “Negan!” she chides, but she’s still laughing.

He chuckles then shrugs his shoulders innocently. “What? You know, I’m pretty sure we got some strapons in storage you could use.”

“Why on earth would you have strapons in storage?”

“The guys ran across an untouched sex shop and brought the whole fuckin’ thing back a while ago.”

“Really?” Chuck asks a little incredulously.

“Yeah. That shit’s just been sitting there this whole time. But it did come in fuckin’ handy, I guess.”

Chuck scrunches up her face trying to think of how stuff from a sex store would be handy in any other way but the obvious one.

Negan chuckles at her, apparently picking up on her confusion. “When we destroyed Eldritch’s shit, I had the guys suit up in latex sex suits so they could gut up and get through the fuckin’ biters without getting sick.”

Negan had never told Chuck the details about the assault on Eldritch’s compound and she never really asked. The details aren’t important. The only thing that Chuck cares about is the fact that Eldritch isn’t a threat anymore.

“Latex sex suits?” Chuck asks in confusion. She’s never heard of such a thing.

Negan laughs again. “Yeah. Suits made of fuckin’ latex so it covers all your skin.”

Chuck tries to picture it. “How is that sexy? One of the best parts of sex is feeling your skin on mine. I don’t think I could do it all covered up. With latex, no less.”

Negan just smiles at her for a moment.

“What?” she asks.

“You’re just so goddamn cute.” Negan leans in to kiss her.

Chuck can tell by Negan’s movements that he’s going to want more, but she has something else she wants to talk to him about. “Wait.” She pushes him away slightly. “Before we get too far, I want to talk to you about something.”

Negan groans.

“It’s not bad.”

“It means we’re not fucking right now, so, yeah, it’s bad.”

Chuck gives Negan an unimpressed look, which makes him let out a sigh. He moves to the doorway and holds his arm out, gesturing for Chuck to cross the threshold back into their bedroom. She walks forward and sits on the edge of the bed. Negan follows suit, sitting beside her.

“So, what’s on your mind?” Negan asks.

Chuck takes a deep breath and lets it out, nervous about what she’s going to talk about. “I love the nursery,” she starts.

“Okay...?” Negan responds. “Is that it? Can we fuck now?”

“Negan,” she bites back.

“Okay, okay. Sorry.”

“I just wanted to say... I love that you got all those pictures of my family for our daughter to see. Because she’ll never get the chance to meet her grandparents, but she can still know their faces. She’ll still know my family. Where she came from.”

“Yeah,” he replies softly. But there is some confusion behind it.

Chuck continues tentatively. “But she didn’t just come from me. She comes from you, too. A-And I know you have those pictures and things in your closet. I’d like to frame some of them and put them-“

“I don’t have any pictures of my family, Chuck. My father was a fucking monster and... I don’t have any pictures of my mom.”

“Lucille was your family. And Simon, too.”

Negan just stares back at Chuck. “Why would you-“ He stops and rakes his hand through his hair.

“Lucille was a big part of your life. I don’t want to hide that from our daughter.”

“Do you realize-“ He huffs out a breath. “You want our kid to know I was a piece of shit husband?”

Chuck doesn’t know how to respond to that. “I just want her to know your past. My past. Our past. She’s not gonna live the kind of life we had. She’s not gonna have high school dances and field trips. Go to college. It’ll be completely foreign to her. But I want her to know about it. And, no , I don’t particularly want to tell her about your... indiscretions. But I don’t want to hide your whole life either.”

Negan stands and starts to pace slowly without saying anything.

“There has to be good memories in that box, too,” Chuck says quietly. “Memories you’d want to share with her.”

Negan turns back to Chuck, but again, he doesn’t say anything. He slowly moves over to the closet and finds his memento box. He sits back down beside Chuck with the box in his lap.

“I really don’t know why I even took this shit. It was... right after me and Simon got this place cleaned up. Before we had any other fuckin’ people here. I decided to go back to my house by my-fuckin’-self.” He starts to root through the box. “The place was fuckin’ trashed. Nothing of use was left. Pantry was empty. My tools, gone. My fuckin’ Impala, gone. Handgun I kept in the closet...” He shakes his head. “I shoved all my personal shit everyone left behind in a bag. I just... I don’t fuckin’ know. I didn’t need this shit. But I had found a fuckin’ place to live and I just...”

“You wanted part of your old life with you,” Chuck answers for him.

Negan nods slightly. “When I was rooting around the fuckin’ closet, I found my old  baseball bat. Lucille bought it for me when I first got the job at the school.” He sighs. “She said I was gonna ‘Knock it outta the park’.” He chuckles sadly.

“That’s ...Lucille?” Chuck questions softly.

Negan nods. “Barbed wire came a little later. When more people came. The name came later, too. I don’t fuckin know why I did that. It’s fucking insane, isn’t it?”

“No.” Chuck smooths her hand over the back of Negan’s head. “You were hurting. Processing everything.”

Negan finds a picture of him and Simon. They’re teenagers, probably fourteen or fifteen, and it looks like they’re just hanging out in the woods. But they’re laughing.

Negan looks at the picture and starts to talk. “Simon’s family lived next door to the first foster family I stayed with after my mom died. Me and him were fast fuckin’ friends. Never experienced anything like it before or since. We just got each other immediately. Shit, I spent more time at Simon’s house than where I was supposed to be. I guess that’s why my foster family got rid of me. Said I wasn’t ‘bonding’.” He shrugs. “I moved across town after that. But me and Simon still fuckin’ hung out. Got ourselves into trouble more than once.” He chuckles.

“I bet you got into trouble,” Chuck comments with a giggle.

Negan’s face turns more somber. “Simon was really the only person I fuckin’ cared about after my mom died. Before Lucille, anyway. I lived with six different families before I turned eighteen.” He chuckles humorlessly. “But the whole fuckin’ sob story of my life got me some kickass grants and scholarships. That’s pretty much the only reason I even went to fuckin’ college.”

Chuck feels a sadness with what Negan has said. He never had a real family in his life. That fact is probably why having a child is so important to him. He wants to make the family he never had.

Negan pulls out his college diploma. “Look at this shit.” He opens it up so she can see. “What a fuckin’ waste.”

“It wasn’t a waste. You taught a ton of kids for a long time because of that. It meant something.” She takes it from him and sets it down beside her. “We’re putting it up in the office.”

“We are?”

“Yes.”

Negan finds a picture of him standing in some sort of museum and shows Chuck. “Baseball Hall of Fame. Me and Lucille took a trip to New York for our ten year anniversary. She wanted to see Wicked.” He shrugs a shoulder. “It actually wasn’t too fuckin’ bad.”

“So you made her go to the baseball museum because she made you go to a play?”

“Not at all. Lucille fuckin’ loved baseball. Her dad was a goddamn nut about it. Took her to games all the time when she was a kid. Baseball was the only thing me and him could fuckin’ talk about. He hated my goddamn guts, otherwise. But when we talked baseball... It was like he forgot he hated me so much. He even showed me his baseballs signed by the fuckin’ greats. Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle, Joe DiMaggio, Cy Young, Willie Mays,” he rattles off.

Chuck listens intently, but can’t manage to mirror Negan’s enthusiasm about the men he’s talking about. Especially because she doesn’t know who they are. “I recognize some of those names...” She grimaces a little at her lie. “One of those names.”

“What?!” Negan responds, shocked at her lack of baseball knowledge.

Chuck shrugs. “You know I’m not into sports.”

“You should still know the fuckin’ greats!”

Chuck giggles. “You’ll have to teach me.”

After going through some other pictures and keepsakes, he finally pulls out his wedding picture, though he doesn’t really look at it.

“It’s okay, Negan,” Chuck whispers as she rubs his back. “I know this isn’t easy.”

Negan takes a deep breath and looks at the picture, staring at it in silence for a few minutes. “I’m glad you made me fuckin’ do this,” he says quietly and touches Lucille’s face in the picture.

Chuck is shocked. She expected him to fight her on this. And definitely not be happy about it. “Really?”

“Yeah. I never wanted to think about... Lucille... because all I could see was her in her hospital bed. Or the look on her face when I’d come home from fucking some other girl. But you were fuckin’ right. There are good memories here.” He lets out a sigh. “I just gotta let myself remember them.”

After a moment, he pulls out a picture that Chuck recognizes. It’s the picture her mother took of her and Negan at her graduation.

“This,” she takes the picture from his hand, “This was in my house, wasn’t it?”

Negan nods. “I didn’t want to put it up. Thought maybe it made me look like a fuckin’ pedo.”

Chuck laughs. “It’s an innocent picture!” She looks at it closely. “It’s pretty much the only picture of me I ever liked. I took a copy of it with me to college. And then to my apartment in the city.”

Chuck studies the picture then looks back up to Negan. The smile on her face falls when she sees that his own face looks sad.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“I should’ve kept in touch with you.”

She casts her gaze downward. “It’s okay, Negan. I didn’t expect you-“

“You kept this photo with you? At college? After?”

“Yeah,” she answers, a little confused at why Negan is questioning it.

“Did you have any fuckin’ friends after high school?”

Chuck shrugs, not wanting to admit that she really didn’t.

Negan lets out a huff and shakes his head. “You wouldn’t’ve held onto that damn picture if you had anyone else.”

“I was fine, Negan. I did four years of college in three, so... I was busy. I didn’t need friends.”

“Goddamnit, Chuck,” he mutters. “I should’ve kept in fuckin’ touch.”

“What would we have done together? I was a teenager and you were... married ! With a job and a house. I couldn’t exactly relate. And would you have gone to frat parties with me?”

“We could’ve-“ he scratches his cheek. “I could’ve taken you to goddamn baseball games. Made sure you were doing alright. Made sure you were happy. I shouldn’t have just dropped you.”

“Well, why didn’t you keep in touch?”

Negan lets out a heavy breath and starts to answer Chuck’s question.

  ——— Negan’s POV ———

— Seven years ago —

“You all ready, honey?” Lucille says to me as I walk toward our front door. She’s got her fuckin’ coffee cup in her hand, just about ready to leave herself. She’s got a house to show in an hour.

“Yeah,” I kiss her on the cheek when she walks to me. “I should be back for dinner. At least I fuckin’ hope I will. If this thing goes long, I might just fuckin’ kill myself.”

She laughs at me. “Come on! This is a good thing.”

I guess she’s fuckin’ right. I got invited to this goddamn “Sports and Education” conference because my baseball team went pretty fuckin’ far last year. Almost won the division. And there’s gonna be coaches and educators from all over the state there.

But I hate shit like that. It’s just guys fuckin’ jerking themselves off to the crowd and saying how fuckin’ amazing they are. I don’t have to talk about winning to show that I’m fuckin’ successful. I fuckin’ win and that’s that.

However... the school kinda lost their shit over it, thinking that my appearance at this stupid ass conference will translate into more money for the school. So I was gently persuaded to attend. And by “gently persuaded”, I mean Principal Addams told me that she’d personally kick my ass if I fucked this up. And she probably would. She’s a fuckin’ hard ass.

That means I gotta fuckin’ schmooze the right people. Which I fuckin’ hate. But whatever. I gotta do it.

And I may have a little bit of an ulterior motive in wanting to go there.

This conference is at the University of Virginia in Charlottesville. My own alma mater. And it just so happens to be the college that my former fuckin’ favorite student attends.

Chuck.

I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately. I don’t fuckin’ know why. The last time I fuckin’ saw her was months ago right after she graduated. But recently, she’s been on my mind for some reason. And I can’t really do much about it without looking really fuckin’ weird. I can’r exactly fuckin’ call her up outta the blue. “ Hey, barely legal former student. It’s me, the guy that fuckin’ taught you. Yeah, I’m still twenty years older than you and really have no business talking to you anymore. How’s things? ”

Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.

I’ve seen her mom a few times out and about and I always casually ask how Chuck is. She says she’s good, so that’s all I really know. That should be enough for me to know. I mean, I’ve seen former students before. I’ve asked about them, what they’re doing. And, sure, I wanna know they’re doing good. In a friendly sorta mentor kinda fuckin’ way.

But Chuck is different. And it’s really fuckin’ confusing for me.

This is a fuckin’ recent thing, too. And I don’t know why exactly shit changed. Chuck was my student. She was my student . And that was it. It always was. But now when I think about her... it’s just... confusing .

I don’t want to fuck her. I mean, it’s not like I would hate to fuck her. But... Shit, I shouldn’t even think about it. She’s got that fuckin’ baby face! But that body of hers...

Goddamn, only a fuckin’ perv would think that way.

No, it’s not like that! ...Is it?

No. It’s not like I think about burying my dick in her like I do with most women. Yeah, I know, that’s fuckin’ sexist. But I can’t help it. I love fucking women. And women love fucking me. But eighteen is way too fuckin’ young. Shit, I haven’t fucked an eighteen year old since I was... twenty two, probably. And I sure as hell ain’t twenty two now. I’m pushing fuckin’ forty!

It’s ...different with Chuck, anyway. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s... like I said, confusing .

I’m just hoping seeing Chuck again will answer some fuckin’ questions. If I immediately wanna fuck her brains out, then I guess I’m turning into a perv in my old age. That’s not ideal, but I guess I can fuckin’ deal with it. Not that I’d try to fuck her, really. I mean... I don’t know. It just seems wrong. If I see her and it’s just the same protective, teacher/student shit, then that’s that. I’ve just been fuckin’ thinking about her because I’m worried and haven’t seen her in a while. Then I can stop freaking the fuck out about it.

It’s been fuckin’ weird these last few weeks. I don’t wanna tell anyone about it. Everyone at school is completely fuckin’ out. If I say I’ve been thinking about a female student, even a former one, shit would get investigated. And I’m a little too ashamed to tell Simon. He’s got a niece Chuck’s age; I don’t want him thinking I go for girls that young.

Lucille... I can’t fuckin’ tell Lucille. How the fuck could I? “ Oh yeah, Lucille, I’ve been constantly thinking about some girl. Wanna discuss it? ” Yeah, no. She hasn’t even talked about Chuck since... probably the last time we fuckin’ saw her. Like, not at all. I don’t know if maybe she knows...? Nah. She can’t. I haven’t fuckin’ talked about Chuck either, so why would Lucille think something’s up?

The drive to Charlottesville takes about two hours, but it feels like fuckin’ forever. I just keep thinking about what I’m gonna do when I get there. Should I look Chuck up? That seems weird. Should I just walk around campus and try to run the fuck into her? Like it was an accident?

I let out a huff and turn the radio up in my truck to try to drown out the thoughts. “I’m fuckin’ horrible,” I mutter to myself.

The conference... confers , I guess. And I schmooze all the right people, so I don’t have to worry about getting my ass kicked tomorrow by a sixty year old woman when I go back to work. The whole thing was enough to distract me, but now that it’s over, I’m back to kinda freaking the fuck out.

I walk around campus aimlessly, sorta hoping that I’ll come across Chuck randomly. That seems like the most fuckin’ organic way to... I don’t know, get this shit started. But I don’t run into her. I’m just about ready to throw in the towel and find a student directory when I see her walking a ways away.

She looks exactly the fuckin’ same. I mean, I guess it’s only been less than a year that I saw her last. That red hair of hers put up in those two buns she always wore. She’s dressed in tight jeans and a baggy hoodie with her backpack slung over her shoulder.

She must be done for the fuckin’ day because it looks like she’s headed back to where the dorms are. I start to walk quickly to catch up with her, but still trying to look fuckin’ casual.

My fuckin’ phone starts to ring, so I pull it out of my pocket without stopping. Lucille’s picture fills the screen and I push the button to silence the ring. But then something just fuckin’ tells me to answer it. So I do.

“Hey, baby,” I say as I slow a little, but don’t stop walking. Chuck is still in my sight, and I want to get to her before she gets to her dorm. Following a college girl to her room seems like a bad fuckin’ idea.

“ Negan? ” Lucille’s voice sounds weird.

I stop in my tracks. “What’s wrong.”

She clears her throat. “ I’m in the hospital. ”

“What?! Are you okay? What the fuck happened?”

“I-I collapsed at the house I was showing. The clients called the ambulance.” She lets out a breath. “The doctors are doing tests.”

“I’m leaving right the fuck now.” I turn away and walk in the opposite direction of where the fuck I was headed.

The whole ride to the hospital, the only thing I could think about was that I probably already know what the doctors are gonna fuckin’ find when I get there.

———   ———

  “Her cancer had come back,” Negan explains with his head cast down.

“I’m sorry, Negan.” Chuck grabs his hand and holds it in her lap.

“She fought it so fuckin’ hard. And I was there every step of the fuckin’ way. We thought we beat it a few times. But...” He shakes his head. “I focused on Lucille then. I didn’t step out on her. Didn’t even fuckin’ think about it. That’s why I didn’t...” He lifts his head to look at Chuck with tear-filled eyes. “I could’ve still called you, at least.”

“No.” Chuck wipes his cheek. “You were exactly where you needed to be. You did right by Lucille in the end.”

“If I had kept in touch... I could’ve had you with me. You wouldn’t’ve gone through all that shit you did.”

“Negan,” Chuck shakes her head, “don’t feel guilty for things you had no control over. And just...” she cradles his face in her hands, “look to the future with me. The past is the past.”

Negan nods then wraps his arms around Chuck, holding her tight until long after the sun sets.

  Because everyone had such a good time on Halloween, people ask for more holiday celebrations, the next one being Thanksgiving on November 26th. The community meal is all planned with as many traditional dishes they can manage. The most important dish, of course, being the turkey.

Max and his hunting party are very successful and manage to get about forty good sized turkeys, enough for everyone at The Sanctuary and the outposts to have some. There is even enough to send the excess to Hilltop to feed them. When Negan tells Jesus that he is going to be sending turkey his way, Jesus says that the Hillfolk would return the favor by making pumpkin pies. They get the pies all ready and send them along with some saviors to be cooked in The Sanctuary’s industrial ovens.

The day before the holiday is very busy for the kitchen, making sure that all the food is ready to be cooked the following day for the community meal. But Negan assures the kitchen workers that they will be rewarded with extra points for their extra effort.

The day is also busy for another reason. Amber goes into labor in the early afternoon. She requests that Chuck be present in the infirmary to help out with the delivery, and Chuck obliges, though she more often than not just stands back and allows Carson and Kayla to do their thing.

Chuck thought she was prepared for the experience, having read all the books that Carson had provided several times each, but she definitely was not. And it most certainly didn’t look like any childbirth she had seen from tv or movies. But of course, it’s all worth it in the end. It takes about two hours, but Amber births a healthy baby girl.

After the baby is cleaned and has some bonding time with her parents, Amber hands her new daughter to Chuck to hold. The baby fusses for a moment, but soon settles in Chuck’s arms.

“She’s so perfect,” Chuck whispers in awe, never having held a newborn before. “Look at those big blue eyes.” Chuck runs her hand over the soft tuft of hair on the top of the baby’s head. “And blonde hair, too.”

“She’s beautiful,” Kayla comments as she looks at the child.

Chuck doesn’t linger too long, knowing that Amber and Mark would like time alone with their baby. When she gets back upstairs, she’s delighted to see that Negan is cooking dinner.

“How’d it go?” he asks, still standing at the stove preparing their meal.

Chuck lets out a sigh of relief as she sits down at the the counter, thankful to get off her feet. “Really good. Everyone’s healthy.”

Negan turns back to peek at her. “You look fuckin’ tired.”

“My back just kinda hurts. And I’m starving.”

After they eat, they curl up on the couch and watch old dvds of The X Files.

“Fuck, Gillian Anderson was hot.”

Chuck shoots him a look. She is leaning on the opposite arm of the couch with her legs curled up beside her while Negan has his legs kicked up and crossed on an ottoman.

“What?” Negan glances at her and chuckles. “You know I got a fuckin’ thing for redheads,” he teases.

Chuck stretches out her leg to kick his thigh lightly.

“Oh, I’m not allowed to say some actress is hot?” he asks incredulously.

Chuck just shrugs, already aware of where this conversation is going to go.

Negan puts on a higher pitched voice. “‘God, Chris fuckin’ Whatevers-worths abs are ridiculous! Dean Winchester has jaw bones for days!”

Chuck can’t help but giggle at his impression of her, but she’s trying to look mad, even though his point has been made. She knows she does talk about various actors a lot.

He continues. “That dude from that shitty Superman movie is gorgeous .”

Chuck steels herself to give him her most serious look. “I’ll have you know, Dean Winchester does have jawbones for days,” she deadpans.

“Come here,” he teasingly growls and grabs her feet to start tickling them in his lap.

Chuck laughs uncontrollably. “Stop! No tickling!”

“Alright, alright.” He stops, but doesn’t remove his hands from her feet. Instead, he starts to rub them. “You know, I don’t say shit when you talk about all those fuckin’ hunky guys.”

“Well, it’s not like you have anything to worry about.”

“And you have to worry about Gillian Anderson circa 1996 coming here?”

Chuck laughs at the absurdity. “Point taken.”

He continues to massage her feet. “You know I got the biggest fuckin’ boner for you anyways.”

She giggles. “My husband, the poet.”

“What? That’s romantic as shit if you really think about it.”

The way Negan is rubbing the soreness out of her feet has Chuck thinking about what she did today. “Did you ever watch an actual birth?”

“I saw a video in college. It was kinda fucked up.”

“I know, right! Like... I felt really bad for Amber’s vagina.”

Negan laughs. “It seems fuckin’ insane that you’re gonna push a baby sized thing out of your tight ass pussy.”

“It kinda freaked me out. Like, there were all kinds of bodily fluids going on. And Amber was screaming in pain. It was just kinda intense. And I’m gonna experience all that, too.”

“You’ll get through it, baby girl. You’re tough as shit.”

“Amber’s baby is really cute, though,” she comments with a smile.

“They name her?”

“Yeah. Skyler Alice. Amber said Alice was her sister’s name.”

“Shit. I guess we should get on finding a fuckin’ name for our kid.”

Chuck shrugs a little. She’s been going over that very thing in her mind for a while, but she’s been a little worried that Negan won’t like the name she wants.

Negan looks up like he’s thinking. “It’s gotta be something cool, like ‘Negan’, but something cute like ‘Chuck’. Hmm.” He hums, still thinking.

“Uh.” Chuck clears her throat. “How about... umm. Well... I think I have a good name.”

“Well?” he prods when Chuck doesn’t actually say it.

“Madeline Rose.”

Negan’s face instantly drops, but he says nothing.

Chuck can feel her blood pool in her cheeks. “You don’t like it,” she says more as a statement than a question.

He just stares for a moment longer before speaking. “Madeline was my mom’s name.”

Chuck waits for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. And his reaction makes Chuck not want to admit that she knows that that’s his mother’s name. “So... you don’t like it?”

“I... didn’t say that.”

“I just... uh. I liked it. And I thought of ‘Rose’ for the middle name for my mom. ‘Cause she always smelled like roses. And also... you know, for Lucille, too. Since you said roses were her favorite.”

Negan still doesn’t say anything. He just blinks like he has to process it.

“But also, I wanted ‘Rose’ so I could call her ‘Rosie Cotton’.”

Negan finally cracks a smile. “It’s fuckin’ perfect.”

“Really?” Chuck exclaims. “You really like it?”

He smiles wide. “I fuckin’ love it.” He moves to lean over Chuck’s belly. “My little Madeline.” He softly strokes the baby bump with his fingers. “Our baby Maddie.”

  The cafeteria is, of course, a little crowded because the entire Sanctuary is there for their Thanksgiving dinner. The whole thing goes off without a hitch, though. Each table of six is given a half of a turkey so they can carve it themselves, which made it easier on the kitchen workers.

Negan, naturally, is the one who carves the turkey at their table, which also includes Simon, Patty, Sherry, and Dwight. But before that happens, Negan stands to give a speech to the packed room.

“Today is fuckin’ Thanksgiving! And in the time before all this shit, we used this day to watch football, lounge around, and eat our fuckin’ weights in food. And, yeah, it was fuckin’ nice to get a few days off from work, but that’s not what the day was supposed to be about. This day was supposed to commemorate one group of people being fucking selfless enough to help another group just because it was the right thing to do. Those pilgrims were fuckin’ thankful on that day because they were starving and the Native Americans gave them food. And because of that, on this day, we are supposed to fuckin’ think about everything we have.

“We got food, we got a place to live, we got people and safety. We got families . Including the newest member of The Sanctuary that was just born fuckin’ yesterday.”

People in the room clap at the mention of the new baby, which makes Chuck smile. Despite the fact that there are a ton of people that live here, it still feels like everyone cares about each other. It’s a real close knit community.

“So,” Negan continues, “I am very fuckin’ thankful that we are all here. We went through a bit of a tough time, we lost some good people, but we are still. fucking. here! So, this may be our first Sanctuary Thanksgiving, but it sure as fuck isn’t gonna be the last! Let’s eat!”

The meal is absolutely perfect. The food is all delicious and conversation flows easily. Even though it isn’t in a family dining room, it really feels like a family meal to Chuck.

  After Thanksgiving, the temperature turns colder fairly quickly. And it’s not only the change in weather that has Chuck needing new clothes. Her baby bump is continuing to expand in the weeks that pass.

Chuck finds out quickly that Negan absolutely loves taking care of her. It’s not like she didn’t already know that, but the further along in the pregnancy she gets, the more evident it is.

Negan practically forbids Chuck from putting on her own shoes. Plus, nightly foot rubs become the norm. Those foot massages always come after their nightly baths, where Negan gently washes Chuck’s skin and hair while she just relaxes. And, of course, Negan keeps her fed with homemade meals everyday.

Chuck certainly doesn’t mind the royal treatment.

As the days pass, people start to talk about Christmas. Four Christmases have passed since the world unofficially ended. Three of of those while The Sanctuary existed. People had told Chuck that some people had always celebrated Christmas, or whichever holiday they celebrated, but it was never widespread. This year, though, more people are looking forward to that special time of year.

Including Chuck. Even though she knows that this Christmas won’t compare to next year’s one, because that will be “baby’s first Christmas”, she’s still excited to spend it with the man she loves.

Chuck’s mother had always made a big deal of Christmas. Her family wasn’t exactly religious, but her mother had said that Christmas was about family and being with the ones you love. Those words had always stuck in Chuck’s mind every Christmas after the turn. After she lost everyone she had ever known.

And that last Christmas at the nursing home... It had almost broken her.

But now, she had Negan. And everything is perfect.

“Baby’s awake!” Chuck calls out from her seat on the couch. She has been feeling the movement in her belly pretty consistently, but Negan has yet to feel it. Chuck keeps telling him that it’s not uncommon, but she knows he’s disappointed.

Negan walks into their bedroom from the office. “Still kicking?” he asks as he sits beside Chuck on the couch.

“Yup.”

Negan sneaks his hand under Chuck’s shirt and places it on Chuck’s belly. He stays still for several moments, trying to feel the movement. “I can’t feel shit,” he comments dejectedly.

“You will, Negan. It might just be my uterus, you know. But you’ll be able to feel her eventually. Couple more weeks, tops.”

He sighs and pushes himself back into the couch.

Negan looks so sad that Chuck wants to make him feel better. “I’m sorry,” Chuck breaks the silence.

Negan turns his head to her. “It’s not your fault, sweetheart. I just wanna feel her.”

Chuck’s eyes flick to movement outside the window behind Negan. “It’s snowing!” The snowflakes reflect the light coming from the window and almost shine against the dark backdrop of the night sky.

Negan turns his head to the window. “It won’t stick. Still too fuckin’ warm.”

“We might have snow for Christmas, though.”

“Hmm,” is his unenthusiastic response.

“You’re not excited about it?”

“I’m not fuckin’ religious.”

“Neither am I, but I still can’t wait.”

Negan just shrugs.

“It’s going to be our first Christmas together,” she comments quietly.

Negan nods. “You’re right. We can have a nice and quiet fuckin’ Christmas together.” He pulls her into his side. “Just fuckin’ lounge around and not do shit. But fuck, maybe.”

Chuck giggles. “We have to watch Die Hard, though.”

Negan laughs. “Fuck yeah, we will! Die Hard is the shit!”

Even though Negan is a little blasé about the holiday, Chuck is determined to get him the perfect gift. That proves to be difficult in a time where there are no more stores. But Chuck has an idea.

She goes around and finds someone who used to be an artist, a woman named Sara. Arat is actually the one that pointed her out to Chuck, having known and worked with her for some time. The artist is a savior and has her own room on the fourth floor, which Arat leads Chuck to.

“Do you think you could draw a face of a person if I described it to you?” Chuck asks the woman, who is in her early thirties, thin, with a sleek black bob reminiscent of the ones from the twenties.

“Yeah, sure!” Sara responds enthusiastically. She moves over to her shelf and grabs a notebook and some pencils. “Is this for Negan?”

‘Yeah,” Chuck answers. “So I kinda need you to be discrete about it.”

Sara puts her hand up. “Say no more. This is a special commission and won’t leave this room.” She gestures to a desk in the room and Chuck sits on one chair as Sara takes the one next to it.

“So, um, can we do it like 8x10 so I can put it in a picture frame?”

“Yeah. You want it just black and white or color. I have colored pencils and pastels, too.”

“Uh... color,” Chuck decides. “That would be nice.”

Sara sets up her page and pencils. “So tell me what you want.”

Chuck goes on to describe the picture of Negan’s mother that she had seen once before in his office back at school. Though Chuck only saw the picture once, she never forgot the woman’s beautiful face. And she is fairly easy to describe because she pretty much looked like a feminine Negan.

Chuck knows that Negan loved his mother very much, but doesn’t have any pictures of her. When Chuck had Negan go through his mementos, she had hoped that the picture she saw all those years ago was there so they could hang it in the nursery, but it wasn’t.

Chuck couldn’t think of a better Christmas gift than to give Negan the chance to see his mother’s face again.

It takes a while, but in the end, Sara gets the rough picture finished. She tells Chuck she’ll work on it more and add the colors. Chuck makes sure to pick out the color of Negan’s mother’s skin, eyes, and hair, so Sara can get it right.

The day before Christmas, Negan is busy making sure everything is done that needs to be done. Though there won’t be a big community dinner like there was for Thanksgiving, Negan tells The Sanctuary that anyone that wants the day off to get together with friends and family can take it off and still get half pay. Anyone that still wants to work will get double pay. A lot of people decide to take the day off, so much of The Sanctuary won’t be working on Christmas.

Chuck uses Negan’s absence to her advantage and asks Simon and Laura to help her get a fake Christmas tree and decorations up to Negan’s office. She spends all day setting up the tree and putting the ornaments on it, though she saves the star for Negan.

Negan comes in just before dinner time and immediately stops in the doorway as he looks at what Chuck has done. Chuck, who has been sitting on the couch in the office waiting for Negan to arrive, just casually turns the page of the book she’s pretending to read, acting like she doesn’t know anything about the fully decked out Christmas tree.

After a moment, Negan finally closes the door and walks into the room. “What’s all this, sweetheart.”

Chuck stands up to meet him. “I don’t know. It just appeared,” she teases.

“Oh, did it, now?” Negan wraps his arms around Chuck and kisses her head.

“Yup. But the star still needs hanging.” She picks up the star and hands it to Negan. “I couldn’t reach.”

“I thought mysterious beings set this shit up.”

Chuck shrugs. “I guess they couldn’t reach either.”

Negan places the star on top and steps back to look at the tree. “Just tell me you didn’t carry all that shit up here by yourself.”

“Of course not.” She turns to look at him. “So you don’t like it?”

“Yeah, I like it.”

“Well, you’ve just been so... not in the Christmas spirit. I thought if I did this...” She gestures to the tree.

Negan hangs his head. “I’m sorry, baby girl. Christmas has always been fuckin’ rough for me. When I was a kid, the only thing I could look forward to on Christmas morning was a goddamn beating.”

Chuck kisses his cheek and hugs him. “I’m sorry, Negan.”

“My mom...” He clears his throat. “My father killed her in December. So, I’ve never really cared for the whole fuckin’ month, really.”

“Oh, Negan...” Chuck holds him tighter. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Negan wraps his arms around Chuck to hug her back. “I didn’t want to fuckin’ ruin it for you. But I just... I’m trying, but it’s fuckin’ hard, baby girl.”

“Well, next Christmas is gonna be completely different. Because were gonna have a little girl to spoil. It’ll all be about her.”

Negan smiles at that. “Damn right.” He gives Chuck a quick peck before heading off to the kitchen to make dinner.

After the meal, the couple cuddles up together back on the couch in the office in front of the tree, admiring the twinkling lights in the dim room. They sit there for hours, just talking easily and laying with each other. Negan shifts so he’s laying beside Chuck across the couch, his head turned down to Chuck’s belly and his hand placed softly atop it.

“You doing okay in there, Maddie?” he coos.

“She likes hearing your voice,” Chuck comments.

“Really?”

“She seems to move around more when you talk to her.”

Negan shifts so that his mouth is even closer to Chuck’s baby bump. “Come on, Maddie. Give daddy a good kick so I can fuckin’ feel it.”

Chuck places one hand on Negan’s head and the other on his hand on her stomach. “She’s not moving yet. She might be sleeping.”

Negan makes a disappointed noise, but doesn’t move. “When will she wake-“ Instead of finishing his sentence, he lets out a gasp.

At the same time, Chuck feels a strong kick. “Did you feel that?”

Negan looks up to Chuck with wide eyes and a huge smile. “I fuckin’ felt that!”

“You did?”

“Yeah!” He looks back down to her belly. “Do it again, Maddie.”

After a moment, the baby kicks again making Negan giggle. And that’s a noise Chuck has never heard come out of Negan before.

Chuck flicks her gaze to the clock on the wall. “Hey look.” She points to it and Negan follows her hand. “It’s past midnight. It’s Christmas.”

Negan laughs slightly, his grin still spread ear to ear. “This is the best fuckin’ Christmas I’ve ever had already.”

Negan keeps his hand on Chuck’s belly until the baby stops moving around. Chuck tells him that she probably really is sleeping now. With the excitement over, the couple gets ready for bed. While Negan is in the bathroom brushing his teeth, Chuck takes the opportunity to slip back out into the office and place her gift to Negan under the tree.

When Chuck wakes up the next morning, she finds Negan laying curled around her with his ear pressed into her belly.

“Morning,” she rasps, her voice heavy with sleep.

“Can I hear her heartbeat?” Negan suddenly asks without moving.

Chuck giggles. “I don’t know. Can you?”

“I mean, is it fuckin’ possible?”

“Yeah.”

“I can hear... It sounds like a fast fuckin’ heartbeat?”

“That’s her.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit. I can hear her heartbeat,” he says, his voice filled with wonder.

Even though Chuck is excited to give Negan his present, she lets him listen to their baby’s heartbeat for as long as he wants. When he finally sits back up, Chuck jumps out of bed and pulls him out with her.

“What are you so excited about?” Negan teases.

Chuck continues to pull him out to the office. “I want to see if Santa came.”

When Chuck gets to the tree, she sees two wrapped presents sitting underneath it, the one she put there last night and another one. She whips around to look back to Negan.

He shrugs. “Santa must’ve fuckin’ come.”

Chuck just stares back at him. She really didn’t expect him to get her anything, let alone surprise her with it. He must’ve put the present there this morning before she woke up.

“Well,” he gestures to the tree, “you wanna see what Santa got you?”

“You first.”

“No, you-“

Chuck cuts him off. “You first,” she says more forcefully.

Negan chuckles. “Okay, sweetheart.” He goes to the tree and picks up both presents, which are similar in size, handing Chuck’s to her before they both sit on the couch.

“I hope you like it.” Chuck smiles at him, but she’s nervous.

Negan seems to pick up on that fact and gives her a quick kiss. “I love it already.”

She giggles. “You haven’t even opened it, yet.”

“Doesn’t matter. You gave it to me so I fuckin’ love it.”

Chuck laughs again. “Open it.”

Negan rips through the wrapping paper and turns the picture frame around to see what it showcases. Chuck can’t immediately tell what he thinks of it; his face has so many emotions going on at the same time.

“What do you think?” Chuck asks, nervous about how he’s going to answer.

His mouth is agape as he stares down at the picture in his hands. “What- How...” He finally looks up to Chuck. “How did you get this?”

“I, uh... Back... in high school, I saw a picture of your mother in your office. And... I knew her name was Madeline because it was written on the back. That’s why I wanted that name. I didn’t tell you...”

Negan looks back down to the picture. “It’s...” He runs his fingers over the picture. “It looks just like how I remember her.”

“I thought we could put it in the nursery. If-If you wanted to.”

Negan lets out a soft sob and brings his free hand up to cover his face.

Chuck, thinking that he hates the picture so much that it upsets him, tries to take the picture out of his hand to get rid of it.

Negan doesn’t let her, though. He brings the picture tight to his chest as tears stream down his face.

The sight has tears welling up in Chuck’s eyes. “Are you okay, Negan? I’m sorry. I didn’t want to upset you.”

He breathes in a deep breath and wipes his face. “It’s so fuckin’ perfect,” he chokes out. “Thank you.” He wipes her cheek, too. “Thank you so much for this.”

Chuck gives him a little smile. “You like it?”

“I fuckin’ love it so goddamn much.” He leans forward to kiss her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He clears his throat and composes himself. “Shit. I think I need to get you a better gift.” He laughs.

She picks up the box. “No. I’m gonna love it.” She pulls the paper off of the box and sees that Negan had gotten her a box set of the show Firefly including the movie Serenity.

“I remembered you liked it and I never fuckin’ watched it so... We can fuckin’ watch it together.”

Chuck smiles. “I love it.” She wraps her arms around Negan and hugs him tight.

Negan pulls her into his lap and hugs her back. “This is my most fuckin’ favorite day yet and it’s all because of you,” he whispers. “Merry fuckin’ Christmas, Chuck.”

She giggles. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

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