#things have more weight now and I don’t feel ready or prepared kind of way

[reverie-starlight]

i turn 20 in one week 🥹

#rev rambles #vent in tags I suppose?? #scared but not in a scared of aging way #scared in a holy shit my childhood was already over but now it’s REALLY over kind of way #in a “oh things were already bad but now they’re also very very real and have more weight kind of way #things have more weight now and I don’t feel ready or prepared kind of way #yk??? #i still feel like I’m 17 mentally cause. everything stopped for me that year. basically. #like I feel very behind everyone else my age especially my friends #but also at the same time I’m cautiously optimistic abt what this year will bring #very very cautiously tho. #extremely cautiously tho. #birthdays are always weird for me idk #i get more reflective an ig that’s normal for everyone #but idk 🤷🏻‍♀️ #anywayyyyysssss I promise I’m not actually sad rn lol #just thinking !!

[stllmnstr]

every fragile thing

genre: figure skater au, college au, enemies to lovers, angst and fluff

pairing: park sunghoon x f reader

word count: 12.3k

soundtrack: jealousy, jealousy / brutal / the grudge / get him back! / good 4 u - olivia rodrigio

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

After an ankle injury lands you in weekly physical therapy sessions instead of on the ice where you should be training for regionals, you’re certain you must be the most emotionally volatile figure skater within a hundred mile radius. Park Sunghoon proves you wrong.

or,

every fragile thing has one of two choices: become stronger or shatter into a million pieces.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Silence. One word, two syllables. A fairly straightforward term with a meaning that can be easily deduced from a quick scan of its Merriam-Webster definition. 

But unlike many words, silence is one that’s typically learned through experience. Through stilted beats, pregnant pauses, dreamlike moments in the dead of night while the world around you is at a standstill. 

In the moments just before the music starts, when it feels as if the audience around you is holding their breath. And you stand at the center of it all, blades of your tightly laced skates against ice, chest rising and falling in time with your heartbeat, mind spinning with possibility. In those moments, your long trained muscles take over, following the memory of countless repetitions as your body prepares to do what it knows best. 

There’s a question in that silence. One that’s asked with baited breath. 

Will I land this skill? Will I go home with a medal around my neck, cold weight a familiar comfort against my skin? Will this be my best performance yet? Will they love it? Love me?

That, as you’ve come to learn, is your favorite kind of silence. The kind that’s filled with endless possibility, with the promise of something beautiful or disastrous or some odd mix of the two to come. 

The feeling of freedom, of flying as blade cuts through ice, as your body defies gravity with every jump, every spin. 

But that is very much not the kind of silence that greets you where Dr. Min eyes you warily over the top of his pristine clipboard, a crease forming between his dark eyebrows. Frowning, he glances at the paper once more before returning his gaze to you. 

“You’re sure you’ve been resting? No weight on the fracture at all?”

It takes a good chunk of your willpower not to roll your eyes. Mostly because you’re lying through your teeth, but who’s keeping track? 

“Yes, I’m sure.” Gesturing to the thick black boot the lower part of your left leg and foot have been imprisoned in for the better part of a month, you add, “This thing’s still coming off in two weeks, right?”

Two weeks is pushing it, but you’ve done more with less. Two weeks puts you exactly three months out from regionals, which gives you exactly ninety-one days to pull together the most jaw dropping program you or the judges have ever seen. One that’s certain to land you on the podium and secure a spot at nationals. 

Once again, you thank your lucky stars for Coach Lee. She’s been with you since you were still struggling to lace your own skates, and there’s no one else you’d trust to have you ready for regionals in such a short time frame. No one else you’d bet your fate on like this. 

“That was our original time frame, yes…” Dr. Min trails off, avoiding your gaze in a way that has your stomach dropping unpleasantly. 

“And we’ll be sticking to it, I’m sure.” You hate the way the end of your phrase turns up like a question. 

Dr. Min sighs. “Look, ___, our original time frame was ambitious to begin with, and I hate to tell you this, but your ankle is not healing as well as we’d hoped. Fractures don’t heal overnight, and the best thing for you right now is rest.” 

The argument is already forming on your tongue. “But—”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m not trying to ruin your life, ___. Truly. I’m saying this to you as the parent of an athlete and a former athlete myself. Pushing yourself now will only lead to reinjury in the future and will also very likely shorten your career. Your ankle needs to heal before you skate on it again. It needs to heal before you so much as put weight on it. And you need to let it heal completely.” The sincerity in his voice is hard to stomach when he says, “Believe me when I tell you that you’ll regret it for the rest of life if you don’t.”

And logically, you know he’s right. Know that this will be nothing but a minor setback if you allow it to run its course. If you follow his advice to rest and heal. But skating has never been something you’ve done with the logical parts of yourself. And Dr. Min doesn’t get it. You tell him as much. “You don’t understand what you’re asking me to do. Regionals are in less than four months, and—”

“I hear you. Believe me, I do. But this is your third year of university, which means you have another shot at nationals next year. If you push it and try to skate before you’re ready, you may very well lose that chance.”

“So I’m supposed to do what? Sit around and do nothing until my ankle decides to cooperate?” Even voicing the possibility has you suppressing a grimace. 

But Dr. Min has different thoughts. “Yes. That is exactly what you need to do.”

You don’t avert your gaze. Neither does he. Finally, after a moment, he sighs. “My recommendation at this point is still rest, but—”

“But?” Your excitement is impossible to contain fully. 

Dr. Min levels you with a cautionary look over his clipboard. “But, if you’re going to do anything, our athletics department does also run a physical therapy program, which I think could be beneficial. It would help to retain flexibility, mobility, and agility in the areas of your leg that support your ankle. It could help get you back on the ice faster and maintain the leg strength you’ve built. There’s a group session that runs on Tuesday afternoons—”

“Yes,” you nod, not bothering to hear the end of his statement. “Yes, I’ll do that.”

“I… okay.” As much as you want to hate him for it, Dr. Min has a point. And while you doubt physical therapy will be anywhere near as grueling as your usual workouts, it sounds a hell of a lot better than doing nothing. 

…

You’ve never liked hospitals. The odd juxtaposition of white, lifeless sterility and a culmination of some of life’s most painful moments has always left an unpleasant taste on your tongue. 

It’s one that has you double checking the address Dr. Min forwarded to you as you enter the oddly cheerful building that is apparently home to a renowned athletics physical therapy facility. Despite the medical purpose, there’s a distinct liveliness that envelops the space. 

The woman at reception informs you that this is indeed the right building and the session you’re attending has just begun in the room to your left. 

Pausing at the door, you’re struck with a sudden timidness. A physical therapy group for athletes will obviously be filled with, well, athletes. And although you can’t speak too harshly on that particular subsect of people, being one yourself, they can be intimidating. It must be the competitiveness, you think. The drive to push, succeed, win that gives off such a distinct aura.

Steeling yourself with one last breath, you remind yourself that’s why you’re here. To get back to that version of you that has everyone else feeling a little shier. That version of you that eats, breathes, and sleeps with ice skates laced on your feet and visions of the top of a podium driving your every decision. 

With determination straightening your brow, you push open the door. 

And immediately find yourself grateful for the mental preparation as three heads snap in your direction.  

Hitching your bag up an inch on your shoulder, you try not to melt under the sudden awkwardness. Thankfully, one of them is better at breaking ice than you.

“Hi,” the boy closest to you is the first to fill the silence. He’s all smiles where he gives you a friendly wave, moving a stray hair out of his eyes with a flick of his head as he tells you, “I’m Jungwon.”

You offer your name in return, trying on a smile to match his friendliness. You have a feeling it comes more naturally to him than it ever will to you, though. 

Regardless, he offers an equally cheerful, “Nice to meet you.” Glancing over to where the second boy is moving through a series of stretches, Jungwon makes eye contact, silently telling him he’s up next. 

Even mid-stretch, he acquiesces. “I’m Niki,” the second boy follows. 

“And I’m Jake.” The last boy doesn’t need any prompting from Jungwon. Nodding towards the walking boot that covers the bottom half of your left leg, he glances at a similar one that he wears on his own. “Looks like we’re twins. Tore up my achilles pretty bad in my last soccer match,” he explains. “What about you?”

“Fractured my ankle,” you return, a rueful smile dragging your lips up. “Figure skater.”

“Ah, man.” Jungwon winces. “That sucks.”

You shrug, forcing a nonchalance you don’t feel. “No worse than a busted achilles.” 

“That’s cool that you skate though,” Jake offers. “Kind of a funny coincidence, actually. There’s another—”

Whatever it is, he doesn’t get to finish the thought. At that moment, the door opens again, this time revealing a middle aged woman in a white physician’s coat. Her name tag reads Dr. Kim, and she introduces herself as such to you. 

“Looks like everyone’s here, including our new member.” She gives another cursory nod in your direction. “Welcome again.” Glancing around, the instructor pauses. “Oh, wait. Except for—”

“I’m here, I’m here.” For the second time in the span of a minute, the door behind you opens. You don’t miss the glance that passes between Niki and Jake. You turn to face the new arrival, but his back is to you as he sets his bag down and begins the process of switching his shoes. 

The way the new member enters with a dismissive wave of his hand and lack of proper greeting has you thinking tardiness is not an uncommon trait of his. Even from behind, you can feel the waves of arrogance he exudes. That seems to align more with your preconceived notions of athletes. 

Studying him for another second, a sinking feeling of dread begins to build in the pit of your stomach. Long, dark hair. Unnaturally graceful movements, even if all he’s doing is digging through his bag. Tall stature, broad shoulders, long legs. 

An athlete’s build through and through. Perfectly suited for the ice. 

“Great.” Despite the statement, Dr. Kim’s tone is flat. “Well, we were just getting started and introducing ourselves since we have someone new joining us today.”

“Hi,” he offers, still fixated on his bag, yet to offer as much as a glance in your direction. If anything, it only serves as a confirmation of his identity. “I’m—” You don’t even need to hear him say it. 

“Sunghoon?”

At that, he does finally look up. 

Gaze locking with yours, a moment of confusion is quickly replaced by a furrow in his brow, the slight downturn of his lips. He’s not thrilled to see you either. 

A beat passes. 

Two. 

Neither of you break eye contact. 

The silence extends to the point of discomfort for all four onlookers, each of them hesitant to break the tension that’s rising by the second. 

Finally, Dr. Kim takes a knife to the tension. “Do you two know each other?” 

Park Sunghoon. Renowned figure skater at your rival university. Someone with such a natural knack for carving lines through ice that whispers of prodigy have been shadowing his footsteps since the minute he put them on a rink. 

Someone with his head so far up his own ass you’re not sure how he can see half the time, much less keep his hair looking so perfect. 

Oh, you know him alright. 

“___?”

And it would seem he remembers you as well. 

It also answers Dr. Kim’s question well enough. 

“Ah, good.” It sounds like a question, like she’s hoping your acquaintance will be a positive thing instead of a disaster. You don’t have the heart to tell her otherwise. “The figure skating community is tight knit, I suppose.”

You suppress a scoff. That’s one word for it, you guess. 

You remember when it felt that way to you, too. Before tight knit became too small. Back before university, when it felt like it was you and Park Sunghoon against the world, instead of against each other. Back when the two of you didn’t skate for opposing teams but instead were members of the same club. A time when you took the ice together, skated as partners until he—

You force your thoughts to stop in their tracks. Your blood pressure has spiked enough in the last few days, and thinking back on long days spent with Park Sunghoon will only send it skyrocketing again. 

If anything, you’ll use this opportunity to practice perfecting your poker face for when you inevitably run into him at future competitions. 

And future competitions means you need a healed ankle, not a bruised ego. And certainly not an unpleasant trip down memory lane. 

Turning away from Sunghoon, you’re the first one to answer when Dr. Kim asks if you’re ready to get started. 

“Yes,” you tell her, determination written across your brow, in the set of your shoulders, and perhaps most noticeably, in the way you avoid Sunghoon’s wandering gaze for the next two hours. 

…

Without the rink, days are quick to meld into one another. It may be concerning, considering that you still have a set schedule of classes and homework to follow, but your life has revolved around training for so long that it’s hard to tell Mondays from Wednesdays without a set practice schedule. 

Thankfully, you do still make it back to the clinic at the right time on the right day, this time for another session with Dr. Kim and your fellow band of broken athletes. 

Including him. 

Aside from the glaringly obvious exception, you’re not as bothered at the thought of returning as you feared you might be. 

Jungwon, Niki, and Jake have proven themself pleasant enough company, and Dr. Kim seems to have built an understanding of how difficult it is to be forcibly removed from the sport you love. As such, she’s one of the least aggravating medical professionals you’ve spent time around. 

“Hey,” Niki greets when you arrive. “Did you have a good weekend?”

You shrug. “Good enough. Mostly just catching up on homework.” Setting your bag down and switching out your shoes, you join him on the mat, beginning the series of warm-up stretches Dr. Kim instructed you through last week. “What about you?”

“Not too bad. I got some good news from my doctor, actually.” He switches legs in his stretch, and you’re almost envious of his flexibility. He’s a dancer, and an exceedingly good one at that. One with an unfortunate knee injury at the moment. “My x-rays are looking a lot better. He thinks I might be able to start easing back into regular use by next month.” 

“That’s great,” you smile, even as a pang of jealousy stabs somewhere near your gut. “I’m really happy for you, Niki.” 

“A month still feels like forever, though, doesn’t it?” He sighs. “I can’t remember the last time I was out of the studio for this long.” 

Jungwon slides down onto the mat next to you, joining in on the stretch routine. “Consider yourself lucky, man. They told me at my last check-up that I probably won’t be able to do any jumping or kicks again for at least three months even though the fracture is already mostly healed.” He shakes his head. “No jumping or kicking,” he echoes, sarcasm dripping from every word. “You know, things that are super easy to avoid in taekwondo.”

“If it’s any consolation, I just got told that I’m gonna have to sit out of regionals this year. Which means I’ll have no way of qualifying for nationals.” You wonder how many times you’ll have to admit that particular reality to yourself before the sting starts to fade. 

“That sucks.” Jake agrees, coming down to the mat and occupying the spot next to Niki. “I’ll probably have to sit for this entire season, too. I love my team, but it’s so frustrating watching them play when I know I could be an asset on the field.”

“That’s true.” You’re struck by a sudden wave of sympathy. “At least skating is an individual sport, so the only person I have to disappoint is myself.” 

“Speaking of skating,” Jungwon sounds hesitant as he approaches the subject. “Do you and Sunghoon, uh…” he pauses for a moment in search of a neutral way of framing the unmistakable tension that surfaced the last time he saw the two of you together. “Do you two know each other?”

Grimacing internally, you suppose an explanation was bound to be solicited after your icy reunion. “We skate for rival universities.” Your gaze fixes on a spot on the ground. “And before college we used to, uh, we used to skate for the same club.”

The three boys share a glance. It’s hardly an explanation for the venom you said his name with but before they can press you further, the subject in question enters the room. 

Again, he takes his time setting his bag down, getting his things ready. This time, he also pulls out an obnoxiously big pair of headphones, secures them over his ears before he bothers to turn around. Despite the fact that all three boys offer him friendly smiles and waves, he returns the gesture only with a tight smile, making his way to the mat on the opposite side of the room before he begins his stretch routine.

It’s a message that rings loud and clear. A frown passes between Jake, Jungwon, and Niki. It’s obvious to you, then, that you’re the reason he chose to set himself up as far away as physically possible. 

So be it, you think, letting the slight roll right off of you. It’s not the first time he’s given you the cold shoulder for something he plays an equal part in, and you doubt it will be the last. 

Besides, it will only make your sessions pass by quicker, if the burden of avoiding gazes and minimizing interactions falls on his shoulders instead of yours.

With nothing but a shrug, you adjust slightly, ensuring that the only view he has of you is of your back. 

…

It’s a pattern that continues as physical therapy sessions start to become a regular routine in your week. Sunghoon, with his apparent disdain for anyone’s time but his own, is always the last to arrive. He also continues his habit of picking the spot in the room furthest away from you. 

Despite the fact that you’d like to chalk it up to his social ineptitude alone, that explanation doesn’t track. Although there’s still a certain aura of aloofness that follows where he goes, it’s too often that you see him smiling at a joke cracked by Jake or sharing easy conversations with Jungwon and Niki.  

Hell, he even interacts with Dr. Kim with a level of warmth you didn’t know was possible coming from him. If there’s any disdain in their conversations, he directs it all towards his right wrist. It’s why he’s here, you assume. Encased in a brace similar to the one you wear on your left ankle, his right forearm seems to be the reason for his attendance. 

It’s hard to not be envious. While a wrist injury is nothing to scoff at, it doesn’t necessarily keep you off the ice. Not in the same way a fractured ankle does. 

Refocusing your thoughts, you push the boy across the room firmly out of mind as Dr. Kim helps adjust you into the next stretch.

“How about now?” Dr. Kim pushes your spine a fraction of an inch further, pressure light but demanding. Before, this much flexibility would have been an easy request of your body, but lack of use has your muscles feeling tight. “Any tightness or pain?”

“No.” The bead of sweat on your brow begs to differ, as does the way the negation slipped through gritted teeth. 

But you’re frustrated. Annoyed at the progress you’ve lost, at the new limits of your body, at the way you feel like a stranger in your own skin. 

Across the room, you miss the flicker of annoyance that flits over Sunghoon’s features. Headphones on as always, you imagine you’re nothing more than a blip on his radar, a pesky intruder that’s easily ignored as long as he has his back to you. 

“Hm,” Dr. Kim muses. “You’ve retained more flexibility than I expected.” She offers you a smile. “That’s a good thing, a sign of a quick recovery.”

You suppress a grimace. It should be a good thing. You should be recovering quickly. If only you could get your stupid body to cooperate. 

Stealing another glance at the boy across the room, you can’t help the way a small burst of rage bubbles in your stomach. Prodigy. Why does he always get to be the anomaly, the exception to the rule? His injury is already less severe than yours, and he’s probably recovering quickly, too. Without even having to fake it.

Easing you out of the stretch, Dr. Kim jots down a quick note. “I’ll have Dr. Min run another x-ray at your next visit.” Nodding towards your ankle, she adds, “I think there’s a good chance that things are looking a lot better, and updated x-rays will help guide our next sessions.” She pauses for a minute. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself or get your hopes up, but I think we might be able to start putting some weight back on it soon. Start getting it stronger again.” 

You’re hesitant to let your excitement grow too much. But it would be a lie if you weren’t already counting the days until your next visit with Dr. Min in your head. “Thank you,” you tell her. “I’ll hope those x-rays come back looking good, then.”

“Me too,” she smiles. “I’ll see you next week, then. Hopefully with good news.”

You nod, returning her smile before heading to the door to gather your things. Jungwon catches you on your way out. 

“Hey, ___, hold on a sec.” When you turn back towards him, he tells you, “The rest of us are gonna grab lunch at a place nearby, if you want to join.”

Your uncertainty must write itself across your features, because he’s quick to add, “Don’t worry. Sunghoon won’t be there. He’s got a class right after this.”

Slightly embarrassed by the way he read you so easily, you nod. “Sure. Lunch sounds good.” Despite their friendliness with Sunghoon, you’ve come to like the three of them. And it’s been far too long since you broke up the monotony of class, homework, and medical appointments with something as simple as lunch with friends. 

And as long as he’s not there, you imagine it will be nothing but pleasant. 

It doesn’t take long for them to prove you wrong. 

Niki barely lets you get one bite in before he asks, “So, what exactly happened between you two?” Even without the name, the question is obvious. 

Still, after choking on the sip of water you’d been taking, you answer, “Who?”

Jake just gives you a look. 

You sigh. “Like I said, we used to skate for the same club. We, uh, never really got along, I guess.” Avoiding eye contact, you add, “And now we skate for rival schools. I suppose it’s only natural to not like each other.”

Niki doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, that sounds made up.”

Jungwon swallows his bite, parts his lips like he has something to say. Internally, you heave a sigh of relief. If any of the three of them spare you, you have a feeling it would be him. “I mean, it does seem like something else must have happened.”

Or not. 

“You don’t have to tell us,” he adds. “But it’s just… I mean, the two of you can’t even look at each other.”

Sighing, you suppose the circumstances do look odd from the outside. “There was… an incident. Back when we used to skate together.”

“What?” Jake asks. “Did he steal your skates right before a show or something?” 

“No, no.” You shake your head. “It happened on the ice, actually. During a program.”

“Wait,” Niki interrupts. “You said you used to skate together. Do you mean like, as partners?”

The guilt on your face says it all. 

“No way.” Jake says. 

Jungwon’s eyes grow bigger. “What did he do?”

“Yeah,” Niki turns to face you fully. “Wouldn’t being his partner be a good thing? At least on the ice, I mean. I know he can be a little insufferable, but isn’t he some sort of prodigy—”

“Prodigy, my ass.” You’re so sick of that goddamn word. “Wasn’t a prodigy when he dropped me in the middle of our program at junior nationals, was he?”

The way all three or their jaws drop in unison is almost worth the admission. 

But the thing is, he was. No accusatory fingers pointed in his direction after it happened. No one blamed prodigy Park Sunghoon for the mishap. 

No, it was decided fair and square by the jury of public opinion that the mistake was entirely your fault, your burden to bear. And it’s not like you were immune to the criticism. Whispers followed where you went. And you always, always managed to hear them. 

Maybe if you’d trained a little harder, completed the second rotation a little sooner, the skill would have gone off without a hitch, they mused. Hell, maybe if you’d stuck to your diet a little better, those last two pounds would have spelled the difference between a perfect landing and your ass on frozen ground, program music still crescendoing as onlookers watched with horrified fascination.

“Oh,” Jungwon grimaces. 

“That’s rough,” Niki agrees. 

And they don’t even know the worst of it. Don’t know that back then, at sixteen, you’d had a giant, soul crushing, earth shattering, massive crush on your skating partner. That you searched for his approval just as eagerly as you’d sought out Coach Kang's. 

That you’d squeezed in as many extra practice sessions as physically possible for five months leading up to the routine just to make sure you were as close to flawless as possible, just to make sure you were chosen to be his partner on the ice. 

That you giggled, giggled, when you saw the matching costumes the two of you would wear for the first time. 

That you followed where he went with long sighs and lovesick eyes. That you looked forward to the grueling hours you spent on the ice with him, turning perfection into something even greater. 

That your heart skipped a beat every time you ran through your program, every time he caught you with sure hands and a strong grip. 

That Park Sunghoon never made a mistake, never let you fall, not once. 

Not until a spotlight was spinning dreams into reality and you were already anticipating the secret smiles you’d share with matching gold medals around your necks. 

Not until it all shattered in a single moment. 

It was cold, as you laid there on the ice, sprawled out and unable to move from the sudden shock of it all. Luckily, you’d avoided any critical injuries. You had staggered off the ice with nothing but some bad bruising, the worst of it staining your ego and your heart. 

And after it all, no matter how many times you passed him on your way to the locker room, shared the ice with him, or searched for the gaze he pointedly avoided across the room, Park Sunghoon never uttered the two words that just might have made you forgive it all. 

Instead of an apology or even the decency of an explanation, you got a cold shoulder and a lost friendship you were too confused by to mourn. 

In the end, you’d decided to turn it all into a blessing in a very thorough disguise. From that moment onwards, all of your time on the ice was dedicated to you and you alone. Never would you let anything but the sheer strength of your own will, your own goals, motivate you to become better, faster, stronger. 

And you found that victory tasted even sweeter, when the full weight of it could rest on your shoulders alone. When no one could whisper behind their palms that the only reason you stood on the podium was a prodigy of a partner. 

So fine. Park Sunghoon didn’t owe you shit. Not an apology, an explanation, or even a second glance. 

And if he was a prodigy, an ice prince or whatever stupid title he’d earned alongside his medals, well, you’d just have to be even better.

But now, sitting across from new friends with a fractured ankle and a ruined shot at medalling this year, a quiet part of you admits for the first time that maybe, just maybe, part of that resolve is nothing but spite in disguise. Part of the anger you’ve clung to for so long isn’t directed at him, but at yourself. 

That it was embarrassing to fall in front of a crowd, yes, but it was also humiliating to know that he was hearing all those little comments about your inferiority too. To realize that his silence meant he probably agreed. That you were a liability of a partner, unequal in both skill and importance. That he could move on from the incident, from you, completely unscathed. 

That your little crush was entirely one-sided, just like the respect and admiration you’d once felt for him. 

You stare at the half-eaten lunch in front of you, appetite suddenly completely gone. 

“What a coincidence that the two of you ended up injured at the same time,” Jake muses. 

“And in the same physical therapy group.” Jungwon nods. 

“Yeah,” you echo hollowly. “What a coincidence.”

…

When Park Sunghoon speaks to you for the first time in five years, it’s completely by accident.

As the weeks have continued on, you’ve fallen into a perfect routine during your shared physical therapy sessions. A routine of avoidance, ignorance, and as much space between the two of you as physically possible. It’s become so easy that the two of you navigate it with the kind of grace only two elite figure skaters could ever manage. 

If anything, it’s more awkward for the other members of your session than it is for the two of you. Jungwon, Jake, Niki, and Dr. Kim are the ones suffering as they try to stay friendly with both of you without icing out the other. 

It must be why he doesn’t even bother to check who it is that’s standing right next to him as he reaches for his bag on the shelf near the front door at the end of another session. Must be why he says it in a voice so casual you don’t think it’s him at first. “How pissed do you think Dr. Kim will be if I’m late again next week?”

Even though the voice doesn’t quite fit, you half expect to see Jake standing next to you when you turn to the side. 

Sunghoon realizes his mistake at the exact same second you do. You watch as shock flickers across his features, quickly replaced by something guarded, unreadable. Just as completely closed off to you as always. 

It pisses you off, the way he’s so utterly and completely unaffected by you. The way he can brush you off as easily as a piece of dust. Insignificant. Unimportant. Unwanted. It has you freeing the reins on comments you should bite back instead. 

“Hard to say.” Ice and resentment drip from every syllable. “Then again, I’m surprised you care about what she thinks. Doesn’t seem like something that would bother you.”

That at least earns you some of his emotion. Another bout of shock crosses his face before it shifts to confusion and falls finally to anger. You can see it in the furrow of his brow, the set of his jaw. The flare of heat in his eyes. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

If he falls to anger, you’ll rise above it. At least on the outside. There’s no accounting for the way your gut twists in rage. Still, you offer him a smile that’s almost as fake as it is sickeningly sweet. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out if you spend enough time thinking about it.” It’s patronizing, and intentionally so. You hope it annoys him enough to keep him up tonight. 

Reaching for the front door, you take your exit first. The hallways of this building have become familiar over the weeks. Even with anger clouding your vision and a bad ankle, you trace a steady path to the parking lot. You’re halfway to your car when the sound of your name stops you in your tracks. 

You freeze for a moment, turning the sound of it over in your brain, stuck on the way it almost sounds like a plea, a prayer coming from his lips. The sound of footsteps draws nearer. They fall quickly, as if he’s running. Your indecision still renders you immobile. 

“Hold on a second. Did I… Did I do something to upset you?”

If you thought you were angry before, you’re surely seeing red now. How dare he. 

Spinning around, you only hope you sound as outraged as you feel. “Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?”

“What? No.” His brow furrows. “I mean, I know our schools are technically rivals and all, but we haven’t really seen each other in years.”

“Right, because you’ve been so sunny and welcoming since I joined the group.” And because the last time we saw each other ended on such great terms.

“I was giving you space. You practically bolted like a scared cat when you saw it was me.” He runs a hand through his hair. You hate the way it falls perfectly back into place. And you hate the way he looks so good doing it. “But clearly you’ve got something against me.”

The audacity, the sheer, utter audacity. There’s no trace of humor when you say, “You’re hilarious, really.” And there’s no room for debate when you turn away from him again, continuing to walk towards your car. 

“Wait,” he tries, but it falls on deaf ears. “God, ___, would you just hold on for a second, I—”

You turn. To do what, you’re not entirely sure. But before you can decide, the grip he has on his car keys loosens, the fingers of his right hand less dexterous than usual thanks to his arm brace. He still has his reflexes though. With his other hand, he manages to stop them from falling completely. 

“Better take care of that.” You jerk your chin to where he awkwardly fumbles with his keyring, trying to find a better grip. “Wouldn’t want to drop those too.”

His gaze snaps to you, eyes wide, mouth slightly slackened. The keys fall from his grasp, metal clinking delicately on the pavement. A million questions swim across his features, none of which you’ll give the grace of answering. 

Instead, you turn around once more. You make it all the way to your car, all the way out of the parking lot, all the way home. 

And he never says your name once. 

…

The following Tuesday, you are the last one of the group to arrive. And while you would usually never pass up the opportunity to best Sunghoon at anything, including being the latest arrival, competition is not the reason for your tardiness. 

It’s avoidance. That, and the fact that you had to spend eleven minutes giving yourself a pep talk in the car before you could work up the nerve to approach the front doors of the clinic. In the end, it’s a glance down at the boot on your left foot that does it. You’ve let Sunghoon ruin your chance at a gold medal once, and you’ll be damned if you let him do it again. 

Besides, your last visit with Dr. Min was a good one. Your ankle hasn’t healed quite as much as Dr. Kim suspected, but progress is progress, and you’re making plenty of it, according to your most recent x-rays. 

You enter the session with an apology for Dr. Kim and concentrated efforts to not let your gaze wander to the back corner of the room as you make your way over to where Jake and Jungwon sit. Starting your stretches, you assume Niki is over with Sunghoon, but you can’t work up the nerve to confirm that. 

Despite her initial annoyance at your tardiness, Dr. Kim is equally pleased at your latest x-ray results and gives you the green light to switch out the resistance bands you’ve been using for the next level up. Just as you’re reaching for the set of red bands on the shelf next to the treadmills, a set of obnoxiously smooth hands gets there first. 

Turning to Sunghoon with narrowed eyes, you grab the end of the band set he just snatched out from under you, eyes ablaze. 

The little fucker has the gall to roll his eyes. “What are you doing?”

You yank on the band. He doesn’t even flinch, grip steady. “I’m trying to follow Dr. Kim’s instructions,” you inform, tone flat. 

This time when you yank again, he yanks back. Much to your annoyance, he’s able to exert enough force to have you stumbling forward. “You’re trying to provoke me.”

“And it’s working,” Niki whispers to Jake and Jungwon in the back corner of the room. Dr. Kim just shakes her head. 

“Just take the green bands,” Sunghoon suggests. 

“They don’t have enough resistance. I need these ones,” you argue. “Why don’t you take the green ones?”

“Pretty sure if one of us takes the lighter bands, it should be you.” Sunghoon tightens his grip. “Or are you seriously trying to claim that you’re stronger than me right now?”

“I’m using them for my legs, you absolute jackass. Which are definitely stronger than your forearms.”

Sunghoon cocks a brow. “Should we put money on it?”

“You are such a dick. Dr. Kim literally—”

“Has another set of red bands,” the woman in question interrupts. She levels the two of you with an exasperated look as she holds them out in front of her. “There’s another set of every color on the equipment shelf next to the door.”

“Oh, right,” you nod, pulling back a little on your end of the band before you release it, just to hear the small cry Sunghoon lets out when it snaps against the skin of his good wrist. “Thanks.”

And the satisfaction that comes from completing your usual number of reps with a higher resistance is almost as gratifying as when you see Sunghoon rubbing at the still reddened skin on his left wrist as you pack up to leave for the day. 

“Those two are gonna kill each other,” Jungwon tells Jake and Niki as the three of them walk to their cars, brow creasing in concern. 

“Or something,” Jake agrees. 

Niki hoists his bag up on his shoulder. “My money’s on ___.”

A contemplative look passes between Jake and Jungwon before they nod in unison, “Yeah.”

…

You’re in the middle of passing a medicine ball back and forth with Jake the following week when he asks, “Are your school’s finals next week too?”

And although it’s hard to believe, first semester is already drawing to an end as the days get shorter and assignments get longer. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m up to my ass in essays right now.”

“Same,” Jake agrees. “Sometimes it makes me wonder how I do it when I’m training, too.” Although you agree, a pang of jealousy is the only thing his words inspire. Of the skaters on your team that are preparing to compete as you speak. That have already choreographed their routines and selected their music and are spending every waking moment perfecting each and every detail of their program. 

It’s hard. It’s brutal. You’d be the first to admit that. But you miss it all the same, so much it hurts. 

A moment passes before he continues. “Well, anyway, Jungwon, Niki, and I were thinking that since none of us are training right now, we should celebrate the end of the semester like everyone else does.”

You arch a brow. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“Right, sorry,” he apologizes. “Consider this your formal invitation to get absolutely shitfaced with us next Friday.”

The laugh that bubbles in your throat is so unexpected you can’t quite bite it back. While you have your fair share of good, old-fashioned fun, he’s right. Every other semester, you’ve celebrated the end of finals season with a cup of hot tea and an early night in bed. Traded one source of stress for another as you woke up bright and early the next day to hit the ice. 

You send him a smile, tossing the medicine ball back in his direction. “Count me in.”

…

The following Friday night finds you double-checking the address on your phone before tentatively knocking on the front door of what you hope is Jake’s apartment. In the middle of the university district across the city from your own, you can’t say you’re familiar with any of the buildings outside of the athletic complex, which you’ve only ever visited for a handful of competitions. It strikes you then that this is also the university Sunghoon attends. And, stomach dropping, that you never actually asked who all would be attending tonight.

Before you have the chance to spin on your heel and high-tail it down the stairs you just climbed, the door swings open. It’s not Jake. 

“Oh,” you mumble. The boy who opened the door is not Jake, but he is very much attractive. “Sorry. I’m looking for Jake Sim’s apartment.” Your voice turns up at the end like a question. 

“You’re in the right place,” he smiles, and it’s gorgeous. “I’m Heeseung, Jake’s roommate. You must be ___.” He opens the door wider, allowing you space. “Come on in.”

“That’s me.” You offer him a grateful smile as you enter, hanging your coat and sliding your shoes off. 

The interior is surprisingly sophisticated, for a college boy’s apartment. It’s clean, for starters, and as you follow Heeseung down the hallway towards the kitchen, you can’t help but be impressed by their choice in decor. 

“Help yourself to anything.” Heeseung gestures to the impressive spread of snacks on the table. “But first, can I get you something to drink?”

“Um…” Your lack of alcohol-related knowledge is apparent, and the uncertainty must be obvious, because Heeseung just smiles again. 

“I’ve got you.” There’s an undertone of something in his words. Something playful, something bordering on flirty. But it’s too subtle to tell for sure, and you’re not one to bet on losing odds. He reaches for a glass and a handful of ice cubes. “Do you like fruity flavors?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “That sounds good.” Besides, it’s been a minute since you’ve been well and truly flirted with at a college party by a boy that looks like he could spell trouble in his sleep. This could be fun, you think.  

Glancing towards the adjacent living room, you notice the usual familiar faces. Jake and Niki are sitting on the couch while Jungwon chats with a boy you don’t recognize. Eyes tracing the perimeter, you feel your shoulders tense when they land on a familiar silhouette. Sunghoon has his back to you, but his identity is just as unmistakable as it was on your first day of physical therapy. Like Jungwon, he’s talking to another person you don’t know. 

Oh, well. It’s too late to back out now and too early to make an exit. If you and Sunghoon can coexist in a room once a week without starting too many fires, you’re sure you’ll manage to get through tonight just fine. 

Heeseung hands you a full glass. It’s cold where it meets your fingertips. 

“Should we join them?” He inclines his head toward the living room and you nod. 

Following in his footsteps, you wave a quick greeting to Jake before taking a seat next to Heeseung, enough space between you and Sunghoon for you to relax slightly.

“How do you and Jake know each other?” You ask, searching for something to fill the silence, to keep the conversation flowing. “Do you play soccer together?”

Heeseung shakes his head. “No, we’ve been friends since elementary school. But I am on the basketball team, which helps. I feel like student athletes just kind of get each other, you know?”

You do know, and you tell him as much. The crazy schedule, the unwavering commitment. It’s much easier to explain to someone that’s living through the exact same thing. 

“Speaking of which, you’re a figure skater, right? For the university across town.”

You arch a brow. “I’m surprised Jake told you so much about me.”

“Not nearly enough,” he flirts, and this time it’s blatant. 

You take another sip of your drink with upturned lips, weighing a response on your tongue. Before you can decide how many cards you’d like to show, you make eye contact across the room with the one person you were hoping to avoid. 

Sunghoon looks equally—scratch that—even more displeased to see you. Jawline so taught you could cut your finger on it and lips drawn in a straight line, he’s pissed where he locks eyes with you from his seat. Sunghoon is the one to avert his eyes first. Throwing back whatever’s in his cup, he slices through the moment of tension with a knife. 

If Heeseung notices the way your breath splutters, he doesn’t comment. Thankfully, Jungwon chooses the next moment to say his hellos and introduce you to the boys you hadn’t recognized earlier. 

“Sunoo,” he nods towards the boy he’d been sitting with earlier, who offers a friendly greeting. “And that’s Jay, over by Sunghoon. And you’ve already met Heeseung.”

“And you all go to school here?”

“Yeah,” Jungwon nods. “Jay and I live together, and Sunoo is Niki’s roommate.”

“You’re deep in enemy territory,” Heeseung elbows you lightly, teasing. “What are we gonna do with you?”

You lift your now empty glass towards him, grinning. “Get me another drink, hopefully.”

Sending you a wink, he takes the glass from your outstretched hand before standing from the couch. “On it.” You watch his back retreat into the kitchen, oblivious of the second one that follows it a handful of moments later. 

Jay, as it turns out, is not an athlete, but does play guitar for a local  band your friend has been raving to you about for ages. He’s already promising you two sets of complimentary tickets to every one of their upcoming shows by the time you realize Heeseung’s been gone for a while. Too long. 

Excusing yourself, you head toward the kitchen. And it’s just your luck that you find the person you’ve spent the evening avoiding, instead of the one you’re searching for. Even with the buzz of your first drink fading rapidly, your inhibitions are feeling low. 

Sunghoon barely has the chance to register your presence before you’re laying out accusations. 

“I know you don’t like me, but do you really have to spend the whole night glaring at me like that? In front of everyone?”

Sunghoon’s shoulders tense, a confirmation that he hears you, but he says nothing. Instead, he just swallows the remainder of his drink in one large gulp. His eyes are still flaring, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you did something to piss him off. 

But it’s just like him, to avoid conversations he doesn’t want to have with the end of another drink. To treat you like someone not even worthy of a response. You don’t know why you expected anything different. Scoffing, you notice the full drink sitting on the counter. Heeseung must have had the chance to refill it before disappearing. 

You move to step around Sunghoon and reach for it when he finally says, “I’m not glaring at you.”

The gaze you level him with is incredulous. “Do you think I’m stupid? I have eyes—”

“For all I know you are stupid!” Sunghoon sighs, drags an open palm down the length of his face. “I mean, are you really gonna let some guy you just met pour your drinks all night?”

“Heeseung?” You’re confused why all of his rage seems to be directed towards something so insignificant. “He’s Jake’s roommate”

“And a complete stranger to you.”

It’s infuriating, the way he assumes his opinion should hold any weight in your life. The way he thinks he has any say in your decisions. “So should I avoid all the food now too?” You’re being petty now for the sake of it. “I mean, since you’ve been in here unsupervised for quite a while now.” You take another step towards your drink and he moves, blocking your path with his body. 

When you look up, you find his eyes already trained on you, and there’s no ice in them now. Just pure, unadulterated heat. Fire. Flames that lick the base of your spine. “You’re so fucking agitating, you know that?”

“I’m agitating?” You take another step forward, hoping the proximity will force him away. It doesn’t. If anything, he leans into it. Into you. 

You reach for the drink again. This time, he stops you himself. Fingers of his unrestricted hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Yeah.” His words are low, voice a caress even as it drips venom. You feel his breath ghost across your cheekbone. “Real fucking agitating.”

Your eyes are still locked on his, and you search them for a hint of something coherent, something that makes sense. Every bone in your body drawn taught, it’s as if muscle memory reverts you to the last moment you were like this, the last moment he held you this close, body entwined with his own in a familiar embrace. Your wrist slackens in his grasp. 

Last time, he dropped you. Sent you scattering across ice until the only thing you could taste was the bitterness of defeat and the sharp sting of humiliation. 

Last time, he let you fall. 

You have no idea what he’ll do now. 

In the end, it’s the sound of approaching footsteps that has the two of you springing apart, your wrist falling from his grip. In the scramble, you remember your original target. 

Despite the long melted ice, this drink feels even cooler in your grip, a stark contrast to the simmering heat just beneath your skin. 

When Heeseung enters, he’s tucking his phone into his pocket with an apologetic look. “Sorry, I had to take a call. My brother gets chatty at the worst times.” Nodding to your hand, he smiles, “You found your drink.” 

“Yeah, I did.” You take a step closer to the living room, closer to Heeseung. Further from Sunghoon. 

Glancing between the two of you, there’s a hint of uncertainty when Heeseung asks if you want to rejoin the others in the living room. 

You put his worries to ease and your questions to rest when you agree easily, not even bothering to give Sunghoon a second thought. 

You do seek his gaze one last time, though, before you follow Heeseung back to the party. Looking directly at him, you raise your glass in a mock toast. Without breaking eye contact, you bring the cup to your lips, swallowing half the drink in one long sip. When you do finally turn away, it’s to find the empty seat next to Heeseung. 

The rest of the evening passes in a pleasant blur, trading stories and laughs with the people around you while Heeseung keeps the seat at your side warm. Sunghoon does you the favor of disappearing from sight after your stand off in the kitchen.

It’s easy to relax into the company of everyone else, so much so that you don’t see Sunoo until you’re running right into him, the contents of his cup saturating the front of your shirt. 

It’s a problem Heeseung is quick to solve, and the gray hoodie he offers you is cozier than any of your own with a scent that’s almost addicting. 

He’s sweet, you think. Sweet and charming and forward in all of the right ways. It’s solidified when he offers to join you on the porch when you tell him you’re stepping outside for some fresh air. It’s cemented when he accepts your refusal with nothing but a smile and the request that you “come back quick.”

Stepping outside, it takes you a moment to realize that you’re not alone. It would appear that your earlier assumption that Sunghoon must have gone back to his place was wrong. There’s no drink in his hand, but the way he sways with the gentle midnight breeze makes you think he’s still working through everything he downed earlier. 

Silently, you glance up at the cloudless night sky, at the way the stars seem to wrap around you. Gaze returning to Sunghoon’s back, you suppose the simplest course of action would be to leave before he realizes you’re here. You turn to do just that, to make good on your promise to Heesung, when the sound of your name stops you in your tracks. 

Or at least, you think that’s what he says. It’s hard to tell, with the way his syllables and sounds slur together. Turning back towards him, you find him already looking at you. He repeats your name, and this time around, it’s a bit clearer. 

His eyes trace a downward line from your face to your change in clothes. Something in his face crumples, withers. 

“‘M sorry,” he slurs, words not lining up quite right through the inebriation. 

“What?”

“That day.” The sudden onset of sincerity in his tone makes him seem more sober than he is. “I should have caught you.”

The stars in the sky suddenly don’t seem so far away. You must have heard him wrong. A crease forms between your eyebrows, eyes scanning over his features. They’re laid open in their honesty, no trace of deception. 

“I wanted to catch you. I tried to.” He sighs. “Was my fault.”

“I…” You search for words, for the vindication you’d always imagined you’d feel at his admission. In its absence, you find only confusion and an odd pang of regret. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. 

“Sorry for what? Why are you bringing that up?”

He just shakes his head, eyes falling to his feet. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again. Like a broken record. His pain is wrapped up in there too, trapped in a loop time has never quite let it escape. 

When you return to the party, it’s with a jumbled excuse of needing to check on a pet cat you don’t have. 

In the haste of it all, you forget to so much as exchange numbers with Heeseung. But you do find the time to pull Jake aside on your way out the door, to make sure that he helps Sunghoon get home safe. 

…

The next morning greets you with a pounding headache and an unfamiliar hoodie draped over the back of your desk chair. It takes a moment of searching through hazy memories before recollection of that particular string of events finds you. 

With a sigh, you head out in search of water and Advil, sending Jake a quick message that you’ll stop by his apartment later to return Heeseung’s hoodie. 

Even a handful of hours later, you can’t decide if you hope Heeseung is home or not. It’s a Saturday afternoon after a long night, so you figure the odds are high. But you still can’t pinpoint whether that feeling in your gut is excitement or dread. 

In an effort to delay the inevitable, you take a detour before visiting Jake’s apartment again. Your rival university’s sports complex is just as nice as you remember it, large, pristine buildings that hold everything an athletics department could dream of. Fondly, you remember the first time you skated in this stadium, back in middle school. It had felt so big, then, so special, to be skating for such a large crowd. 

It felt even more special to be sharing the ice with someone who put dreams in your head and butterflies in your stomach. Still fairly new to pair skating, the two of you had put on a program with a less than favorable amount of deduction. 

But still. It was yours. It was special. It was shared. 

You wonder if he knew then, that one day he would be the reigning king of this very same rink. 

Probably, you think. Park Sunghoon never had the habit of letting things feel impossible. 

Looking down at the boot on your foot, you miss it, all of it, all at once. The late nights. The early mornings. The bruises and cuts and aching muscles. The determination after defeat. The elation after glory. The feeling of flying every time blade touches ice. 

The sign posted next to the stadium is an advertisement, a reminder, of the upcoming regional championships. There’s a pang of loss, a moment of grief, for your program that will have to wait for next year. 

But your x-rays are coming back better every time, and Dr. Kim is sure you’ll be back on the ice by the time spring comes. 

For the first time in a long time, you think it’ll be okay. You know you’ll be okay.  

In front of you, the stadium door opens, and you realize you’re standing right in front of the exit. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, quickly moving to get out of the way, but then you take a closer look. “Coach Kang?” you ask, just as she says your name with the same air of disbelief. 

It’s an odd feeling of synchronicity, to stumble into your childhood skating coach just as you’re reminiscing on the past. 

“It’s been so long,” she beams, pulling you in for a warm hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Just visiting a friend. What about you?”

“Coaches’ meeting,” she explains. “Trying to see if I can get some of my junior skaters in to watch a few practices before regionals.” Nudging you with her shoulder, she adds, “Speaking of which, how’s your program coming along? Are you getting excited?”

You shake your head. “I’m actually off the ice for this one.” Glancing down, you lift your booted foot in explanation. “Ankle fracture has me out for the rest of the season.”

“Oh, no.” Coach Kang places a consolatory hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry. That has to be so hard.”

“It’s okay, actually.” You don’t know who’s more surprised, her at your admission, or you at the fact that you actually mean it. “Everything is healing up nicely, so I’m looking forward to an even better program next year.” 

“Well look at you, all grown up.” She smiles. “I can say that thirteen-year-old you would not have had such a good attitude about it. Honestly, I’m surprised a fracture was enough to stop you. You were always so stubborn about things. You and Sunghoon.” She lets out a short laugh as your shoulders tense at the mention of him. “I was just thinking about you two the other day, actually. We had a skater fracture his tailbone and argue until he was blue in the face that he still wanted to compete.” Shaking her head, she adds, “It reminded me of that time Sunghoon insisted on skating even though he’d just sprained his wrist.” She shakes her head again, releases a small laugh. “Never could keep you two off the ice.”

It all checks out, the stubbornness, the determination even when it was stupid. But you’re hung up on one detail. You’re sure you could list every one of Sunghoon’s skating injuries just as thoroughly as he could. But before the current one, you can’t recall any wrist injuries. “What? When did he sprain his wrist?” 

Coach Kang waves her hand flippantly, like the sinking feeling in your gut isn’t intensifying with every passing moment, like she isn’t about to confirm a realization you’re already dreading. “Oh, you remember. It was just a few days before nationals that one year.”

That one year. She skirts around it, for your sake probably. But you know exactly what she means, when she’s referring to. 

And suddenly, you’re falling through air again, plummeting towards ice as a hand makes a desperate attempt to catch you. As sheer will alone is no match for injury weakened bones and ligaments and muscles. As you’re sliding across frozen ground and he’s gripping his wrist with pain on his face and terror in his eyes. 

As your head spins, spots clouding your vision from the force of the impact. Before the world goes black, your eyes search for him. 

And in those last few moments of consciousness, you watch as his mouth moves to form words you can’t hear. 

“I’m sorry.”

…

Raising your fist, you pound at the door again. One, two, three times. At this rate, your knuckles will be bloody before you get a response. 

But before you can start your assault on the wood in front of you again, the door swings open slowly, revealing a familiar frame. 

“You absolute idiot.”

“Well hello to you too.” Rubbing at his eyes, you appear to have just woken him from a nap. If his head is feeling anything like yours was this morning, you almost feel sorry. 

But there are more pressing matters at hand. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“That I’m an idiot? Probably not.”

“That you sprained your wrist three days before nationals? That you skated anyway? That you attempted to catch a person quite literally spinning through the air with a wrist injury?”

A beat of silence passes. 

And then another. 

Sunghoon suddenly looks wide awake. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. What the hell were you thinking?” There’s fire in your eyes, an anger that’s directed towards him but not in the ways he’s used to. 

He pauses for a moment, eyes searching your features for another beat. Finally, he sighs. “Would you have let me skate if I did?”

It’s not the answer you expect. And it’s just like him, to answer a question with one of his own. “I… what?”

“You heard me.” His eyes don’t leave yours. “Would you have let me get on the ice if you knew I was hurt?”

And what is it, him and his habit of asking ridiculous questions like they don’t have obvious answers. “What kind of question is that? Of course not. No one in their right mind would have let you do that program with a wrist sprain, much less your partner. And I love Coach Kang, but I’m about to file a negligence suit against her, because what the hell kind of—”

“Stop talking.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry,” he grimaces, and you’re still getting used to the way apologies sound on his lips. “That came out wrong. What I was trying to say was that you… Well, I… I mean…” He trails off for the third time, casts a tentative look at the way your eyebrows only raise higher and higher every time he stops a train of thought in its tracks. His gaze falls down, somewhere between your nose and chin. An exhale passes through parted lips. Something in his resolve slips. “Oh, fuck it.”

And then he’s kissing you. 

Lips against lips and hands in your hair. It’s messy and awkward, and you can’t quite get the timing right. 

Sunghoon pulls back a fraction of an inch, catching his breath and letting you do the same. 

“What are you doing?”

There’s heat in his eyes and fondness too, a soft sort of expression that only melts further every time he looks at you. But now there’s anxiety in the mix, a crippling fear that he’s misjudged everything entirely, done something horribly wrong. 

“I’m sorry.” Before today, you could count his apologies on one hand. Now, you’re running out of fingers. “Did you not want—”

This time, it’s you that pulls him down, hands lacing around the nape of his neck, exhaling a soft sigh against parted lips that sends his mind spinning. 

And it’s only the second time, but it’s already better. Already a natural rhythm that the two of you seem to fall into with a little more grace. 

The expanse of his door is cold against your back when Sunghoon finally pulls you into his apartment using his good hand, and he’s a quick study. Attempt number three is an even greater improvement as hands search for new skin to discover and things start to fall into place, one at a time. 

Reaching for Heeseung’s forgotten hoodie, Sunghoon breaks the kiss only to toss it somewhere outside your current plane of existence. In this moment, you exist only within the space the two of you occupy, everything else an afterthought. 

And you have the feeling attempt number four will be your best yet. 

…

epilogue

“Are you ever gonna join me or do I just have to stay out here looking stupid forever?”

You don’t even take a moment to consider. “The second one.”

“Come on,” Sunghoon pleads, skating back towards you where you remain planted firmly to the bench on the perimeter of the rink. He moves towards you with a grace that used to inspire a raging, stomping green monster of envy. Now, you just admire the way he cuts across the ice with the agility of a dancer. “It’s fun out here, I promise.”

Avoiding his gaze, you let your eyes fall to your feet instead. They’re already laced up in your favorite pair of skates, black boot all but forgotten since you had it removed at your last visit to Dr. Min’s office. Since he gave you the green light to return to the thing you love most. 

You had been ecstatic then. Brimming with so much extra energy Sunghoon had to physically intervene to prevent you from accidentally knocking over an elderly lady on your way out of the hospital. But now, with the opportunity you’ve been dreaming of for long, hard months at your fingertips, something in you hesitates. 

Sunghoon says your name, and suddenly he’s serious. “This is all you’ve been talking about for months.” Sliding down onto his knees in front of you, you’re suddenly at eye level. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He casts a doubtful glance. “Really, I just…” It’s hard, to speak your fears into existence, to let them take flight. Even if the boy in front of you makes it a little easier. “What if it’s not what I imagined?”

It’s a million little worries wrapped up in one. What if your ankle isn’t the same? What if it’s never the same? What if you’re not as good as you were? What if you’re not good enough? 

Sunghoon hears them all, and puts them to rest with a smile, a gentle touch as he rests his forehead against yours. “You and that big brain. Always worrying about the wrong things.”

“Hey! I—”

“It won’t be what you imagined.” He draws back a few inches, and your eyes have nowhere to land but on his own. “It will be different. It will feel weird, and your legs will feel wobbly, your muscles will feel weak, and your ankle might give out.”

Your lips flatten into a thin line. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re doing a terrible job.”

Sunghoon just pinches your cheeks together, forcing your lips to purse. “So you’ll show up. Over and over again. Every day until your skates start to feel like a second pair of feet and the ice starts to feel like home again. Until your ankle and your muscles and your stamina are all built back up, in a way that’s different from before but will feel familiar before you know it.” He presses a single, delicate kiss to the tip of your nose. “Until I’m dragging you off the ice instead of onto it, because your boyfriend needs attention and is feeling a little jealous of all the time you’re spending here instead of with him.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re so needy. It’s gross.”

Sunghoon only smiles. “Only for you.”

This time, when he gets back on his feet and extends a hand, you take it. You follow him onto the ice and headfirst towards your insecurities feeling a little bit like a newborn deer, a bike without its training wheels. 

He laughs when you stumble and brushes hair out of your face when you pout. 

After an hour, you’re already feeling more solid than before. After two, that feeling of flying is starting to return. 

It’s somewhere just before hour three when Sunghoon says, “Remember how I told you earlier that you’re worrying about the wrong things?”

“Yeah.” You drag the word out slowly, not liking the hint of deviousness in his sudden grin. 

“This is what I was talking about. Instead of worrying about getting back on the ice, you should be worrying about how long it will take you to be able to beat me on a lap around the rink.”

“You absolute asshole. I fractured my ankle!”

Already halfway around the rink, Sunghoon just laughs. 

…

outtake—five years ago. 

Sunghoon’s vision is blurry. It’s a terrible combination of things—the exhilaration of the spotlight, the pain in his wrist, the grief of an egregious error. The sudden onset of tears that sting in the corners of his eyes and fall without his permission. 

Despite all of it, he finds his way back to his dressing room. Choking back a sob, he reaches for the glass of water he’d left out earlier. It tastes acidic on his tongue, burns like regret on the way down. 

Stupid, he was so stupid. His hands tangle in his hair. He wants to pull it out. Wants to scream until his throat is raw and he can’t anymore. 

It was a terrible enough decision to gamble his own fate on an unhealed injury, but as the reality of the situation comes crashing down around him, he realizes he’s done something much worse. 

Eyes open, eyes closed. It doesn’t matter. All he can see is you, sprawled out on ice, limbs bent unnaturally, eyes dazed at the impact. 

The unexpected impact. Because you trusted him. You trusted him so much that of course you’d never considered what you would do if his hands failed, if his wrist gave out. If he decided to risk your program, your fate, you, all on a whim, on an inflated sense of self-importance and a lack of regard for the injury he was so certain he could power through. 

He couldn’t imagine it, three days ago. Telling you that he was injured, that he couldn’t skate the program. He couldn’t imagine watching as the features he bashfully considered so, painfully pretty twisted into disappointment. Into anger. 

So he turned his shame into resolve, into determination. One that allowed him to catch you with a fractured wrist in every practice run. Every time, except for the time that mattered. Biting back grimaces and cries of pain all for the fool’s hope of seeing you smile in a few days’ time, a gold medal around your neck. 

Instead, he got to see you spinning through the air, slipping through his fingers, landing with a sickening thud. He wants to ask what hospital they took you to, wants to ignore the pain in his wrist a little longer and run there himself, just to make sure that you’re okay.

But then he imagines the way you’ll look at him when you see him. The way all that disappointment and anger he’d wanted to avoid so desperately will surely be all you have to offer him. 

He understands. He does. He wouldn’t want to see him either. 

Turning away from the mirror, he tucks away his shame for the future. But that only leaves his gaze landing on the bouquet of flowers sitting on the table. The one he’d spent nearly an hour agonizing over, the one his mother had assured him a dozen times you would love. The one he made sure had all of your favorite colors. 

He snuck his own favorite in there too, in hopes of what exactly he can’t be sure, but he knows he likes the way they look together—your favorite color and the deep blue irises that represent his own. 

It seems so stupid now. After everything, after this, he can’t imagine you want his flowers, and even less his favorite color. He can’t imagine that you want anything to do with him. 

So he doesn’t seek you out. Not in the hospital that day, not when you’re cleared to practice and back on the ice again, not when chance has the two of you colliding five long years later. 

Not until he watches you walk away from him with all that anger and resentment and disappointment he’s been so avoiding for so long. Not until it strikes him in the face and he realizes that he can’t live with it, can’t let bygones be bygones and hope time and the absence of him in your life have healed you for the better when it still hurts to even look at you. 

On a dressing room table, five years in the past, a bouquet of flowers wilts. 

And Sunghoon learns that with love and patience and a little bit of sunlight, beautiful things, even the fragile ones, bloom when you water them. 

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

#enhypen fanfiction #sunghoon fanfic #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon #enhypen fic #enhypen ff #sunghoon fluff #enhypen x you #enhypen x reader #oh look! another sunghoon figure skater au how original #everyone point and laugh

[onyourhyuck]

Bad Habits. | H.RJ

— Prologue: “You have no idea, how long I’ve been wanting to do this.”

— Summary: Your boyfriend Renjun offered to blow dry your wet hair, what could go wrong?

— Genre: Smut. Smut. Smut. Boyfriend!Renjun. Kind of cute. Renjun has an obsession to kiss y/n’s neck. Blowdrying hair. Protected sex. Renjun’s love for y/n’s chest. Teasing. Soft mild choking. Fingering receiving (f) Consensual. many many climaxes. Nickname used ‘Baby’ a lot.

— Notes: I might be in my renjun smut era rn.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You let the hot water run down your back all the way from your short thick hair. You enjoy the warmth and the steam building in the bathroom. It’s always nice to come home and have a relaxing evening showering especially after such a stressful day at work. Your boyfriend, Renjun, prepared the shower for you actually. He let it ran so you can have the hot water running. He even got the towel and clothes ready and then he left to let you have your own privacy and time to shower properly. Renjun loves to do a lot of things for you even though you don’t ask him to do anything he just ends up doing it for you anyways.

You tend to appreciate these small gestures the most whenever you’re feeling drained and tired. You don’t really like to show or express that you’re having a hard time. So when your boyfriend can sense your feelings through your moods you find it easier to show you’re struggling.

Your job can be very time consuming which then puts a slight strain on your relationship with Renjun. He wants to do many things with you but your job tends to prevent that. You’re a very dedicated worker to your job.

You may love your job but sometimes it can be hard to keep up with it. Even if it is just paperwork. It’s still a lot to do even if people assume at first thay papers aren’t that much of a hard thing to do. It’s more or less time consuming.

Either way you’re home now and you don’t want to think about work anymore so you finish your shower and head out with the towel wrapped around you. You would change in the bedroom. You take your time applying body lotion and then your own skin care routine on your face. You need to moisturise your skin with the products you bought. Once the pyjamas embrace your beautiful curvy figure you sat down on the bed looking in the mirror. You feel refreshed from the shower. Renjun really was right it did help you feel better. As if the weight was lifted off your chest.

The bedroom door opens with Renjun peeking in a little and when he saw you and your damp hair he tilts his head a little. “You still haven’t blow dry your hair Y/n. You’ll get sick if you leave it like this.” You heard him say with a small nagging voice but you didn’t mind it.

You knew he cared for your well-being slightly more than you do for yourself. You gently roll your eyes. “I’ll get on it now then.” You stand up to get the box out with the hairdryer however a hand stops you from moving any further from the bed.

Renjun shakes his head. “I’ll do it for you.” He then said getting the box out putting it next to you on your bed and you look up with a little smile. He really doesn’t want you to work too much at home knowing you’re tired. “Can i blow dry your hair for you?”

Now he was asking you with something glistening behind his eyes and you’re not sure what that was. It almost resembles a fallen star in his eyes that you saw glisten away. Your expression of surprise makes Renjun feel like his words took you to another level of comfort and happiness when he asked if he could blow dry your hair for you. It’s like you didn’t expect him to go the extra mile for you. Renjun would do anything if it can mean you didn’t have to do anything. Heck. He would do everything and you can just be taken care of like the princess you are. Renjun wouldn’t want it any other way for you.

You take a while to figure out what to say but you reckon you can just give him a nod and he would take it as a yes. “Sure you can.” You say with a small shy smile. You never really had anyone drying your hair for you so this might be an experience you think. Renjun saw your permission and his face lit up.

It’s like he’s been waiting to do this for you before. Renjun plugs everything in. The blow dry device powers up and Renjun softly runs his hands through your wet short damp hair. He enjoys to run his hand through it because of how silky and thick it feels when it’s dry. But when it’s wet it’s a clump that he still find’s beautiful. Every inch of you feels responsible for the way his love grows for you even more. Renjun was only bewitched when the cold wet hair slides down the fingers as he starts to now turn on the hairdryer. The hot air blows your hair in different directions, his hands slid up to your roots and down the edges of your strands.

Your eyes close in the pleasant breeze that feels like a valley passing in your mind. The sensation of someone else stirring the arms rotating around the hot air to your damp hair as their fingers slip like growing spring around your scalp makes you feel some type of way; relaxation? Maybe. Perhaps it was the fact that you feel like you are being treated with care. The way your boyfriend’s wrist was so gently when it moved and pushed your hair aside to get every part of your hair to dry up and not be wet from your shower.

It felt too good. You never thought a simple thing like this could make you feel even more at home than you already were feeling like.

Renjun might be your home. Maybe he makes home feel like home to you now.

Your boyfriend smiles when he saw your smiling expression as your eyes were closed shut enjoying how his hands feel around your scalp trying to massage every area so they can dry up. He doesn’t want you to go to bed with damp hair at all. It’s not the most comfortable thing either. Nor is it healthy. Renjun’s smile mimics yours and he cannot help but watch and observe you. He takes every chance to admire you no matter what even when you’re not looking at him, that’s when Renjun takes his opportunity the most.

The eyes fell down like a marble stone falling on the ground between two drainages pipes when he saw the sight of your beautiful glowing neck. In his eyes he feels like this was his favourite part of you. Your neck. Renjun might have a slight admiration for it to the point it might be like he has a massive crush on it. Not because of how beautiful it looks. It’s because he knows how much it gets you going with a rollercoaster of emotions.

The most simplest of touches he could do to your neck would feel like he had you pinned against a brick wall. That’s how much you react whenever your neck comes into contact with something.

Renjun love it though. He can smell your hair and your body lotion you applied from your neckline. He was very close and it makes his heartbeat a little knowing you’re relaxing right now and he’s here trying to not get any urges and thoughts right there and then.

You look too irresistible to not be kissed though. Renjun eventually said screw it in his head and when your hair was a little more dry now, his lips found a way around the back of your nape and placing a small kiss on it. The small kiss was very soft and noticeable. It feels like lavender sprouting from the roots.

Then the kiss on the nape turns into more kisses on the sides of your neckline and then eventually spreading even more across your neck to the front which had your heart skipping a beat from the first pointer kiss he did.

Your voice came out a little better though slight hitch to the tone which your boyfriend took heard notice of. “Renjun…?”

It was a mixture of confusion and surprise. Renjun kissed now a little more deeply but still keeping the relaxed vibe you guys are in. The whole bedroom had a very chill atmosphere and he wasn’t doing anything too much to scare you off. He knows you’re tired. Renjun can feel it on your body muscles. They’re finally relaxed and no longer tense, he wouldn’t want to do anything else than to have you feel loved in the moment.

All Renjun was thinking about was how pretty you sound when he continued to kiss you. He travels up kissing your jawline as he’s still sitting behind you with the warm hairdryer on his lap attached to the nearby plug on the wall next to your bed that you both are on.

He whispers to your ear as he gently and lovingly placed a kiss on it too. “You have no idea, how long I’ve been wanting to do this.”

Your boyfriend drag alongside your neck his lips whispering series of sweet nothings. The sequences had you rolling your tongue at the top of your mouth roof when he pressed another sweet and peppering kiss on your smooth skin. “To kiss and to be close to you like this… I’ve missed you.”

Your body betrays you quickly knowing it was your boyfriend making you feel this way, so out of breath as if you ran for miles upon miles. It was one of those things that your body could never get used to. Renjun’s kisses, words, the way he spoke to you with the tone of his voice. It’s too much you found yourself loving it all too well.

You found yourself giving in too quickly than you’d like to imagine. It wasn’t long till Renjun’s lips kissed the corner of your lips which then made you fully engulf yourself in kissing him back now. You closed your eyes and breathed in as he lets out a sigh practically groaning now that you kissed him. It felt so foreign to him nowadays. It’s been too long than he’d like to admit since he kissed you like this. You pull yourself around and Renjun’s hands slither round your waist dragging you across the bed as you let him pull you down on your back, the kiss never once breaking away.

It’s been too long because you swore you neglected him to the point he didn’t give you a single break from the kiss. It was too long that it had your face feeling like you might melt like magma. Or until the point you’re seeing stars written on the ceiling. Renjun nibbles quietly on your bottom lip while finally he pulls to give you a fresh new look on his face as he saw your eyes closing to regain back your view. You were too close to nearly passing out from the lack of oxygen he stole from you.

But he pulls at the right minute to keep you asking for more. To keep you guessing for more. Renjun lowers himself down just above your chest as he kissed your cheek now beginning to ask you. “Baby do you think i have to stretch you out? It’s been too long since we did it.” He lets his eyes practically eat you alive when he’s watching your body like this. You let out a soft groan, his hands run down your spine and under your shirt ready to strip it away from your wonderful figure.

Renjun’s bad habit is definitely not being able to be patient enough for you. When he wants something he needs it immediately. You’re one of those things that Renjun cannot be patient for enough because he wants to experience it with you. And let you experience him as much as possible too. This might be the result of his feelings for you however, they’re far too intense you can barely stand in front of him.

You groan in reply. “Maybe stretch me out with your fingers.” Your hands slip off your lower pyjamas and Renjun took the host pleasure to position his finger around your straps to the panties and slid them down to your ankles. He smiles looking down at your pussy region as he strums his thumb on your clit before pushing in the index finger now. He saw you bite your bottom lip already and Renjun can feel how tight you are. He definitely needed to stretch you out. It felt too much already that you feel like consuming all of Renjun’s pleasure. Renjun didn’t stop until he at least give you one orgasm by his fingers. He never continues and puts you above himself too.

Even though he is very impatient he’s never impatient when it comes to putting you first above his own pleasure and needs.

You felt your eyes clench around the ceiling above as you’re feeling the pleasure reach to your own bones. It pulses you to leak and now your own high washed over you. Renjun was satisfied to hear you moaning his name and practically plead him to already take you. He whispers reaching with his face to kiss your own mouth again. “You did so well for me, baby.”

You’re so weak to him and his praise.

Your boyfriend slips himself inside your folds and your heat once he put on the condom wrapping around his shaft that pumps inside and outside of your velvety bars has him feeling like he was on cloud nine. Your expression was scrunching up as you reach enlightenment with your boyfriend thrusting inside and outside of you in such graceful ways. Renjun’s pelvis reaches your inner thighs as he grabs around your waist wrapping his arms on your back as he pulls you closer to the lavishing light he caused your body to feel. This feeling couldn’t be described in words just like how Renjun cannot describe such a perfect girl like you beneath him getting her hole fixed with his cock deep inside you looking so incredibly beautiful.

How can anyone compare to you? No one can.

Renjun vows you’re going to get him hooked more and more. Your folds squeezing and squelch which has his eyes roll and your boyfriend slips out a groan between your perky breasts as he licks round his tongue teasingly around the very top. “Do you feel good baby? Is this what you needed after a long day of work?” He spoke so kindly though his body wasn’t matching it. Your body was squished between his ruthless thrusts.

You neglected him for too long because you can feel this was almost like his way of releasing all the pent up frustrations.

You bury your head further into your pillow as your spine arches like a bridge. Renjun loves when you do this between his fast and jabbing thrusts. It feels like you were feeling everything tan times more intensely. Your lips fell apart like ice. “S-So good… oh please don’t stop.” You now plead.

You’re not sure why you’re pleading because your boyfriend wasn’t planning to stop anyways.

You must’ve been seeing stars when your many orgasms has been approaching. Perhaps you already came too many times you didn’t even realise it. It was so good that Renjun must’ve had your hole screaming at him to slow down but he couldn’t as he was taking everything in too fast with his brain.

Your hands clench in a balling fist and your toes curl when Renjun whispers to your ears. “You know this is your fault I’m acting like this.” Your eyes widen when he told you it’s your reasoning for all of this happening and you wanted to speak, but the many moans you swallowed came out.

He trails down the kisses from the forehead and down your temples. “You wanna know why? Because you’re my Bad Habit.”

Your neck was looking too good from the angle he was in pushing inside of you deeply where he knew you had limitless space. His hands sweep their way in holding and caressing your neck as he continues to thrust within your pussy that you find yourself getting addicted to how his cock was making you feel; utterly weak and high.

You are the very bad habit he has. Renjun cannot do anything without you anymore and it’s all because of you making it hard not to fall in love with you even more.

He blames you for this, he cannot get enough now. It was like a trap all along and Renjun was your fallen victim. You clench around his shaft as he said this. He reminds you how deep his love is for you and your eyes dilate when you feel his member twitch deeply within your folds.

Through the condom fabric you sense a filling packet now and you just knew he had a sudden climax when Renjun hung his head between your shoulders. He took a moment to final thrust within you and his voice was breaking like a broken tape on record player.

He grunts and you feel his hands tighten around the embrace has you inside as if you were his precious jewel.

“Fuck fuck fuck…” You heard your boyfriend say quietly as the voice was trembling by how good you consumed him all.

You feel Renjun letting out a deeply mournful sigh full of enchanting pleasure when he pulls out off you with the condom. You watch him wrap it up and he looks back at you finding your gaze to be watery and dilated pupils, it makes you look like a princess in his eyes though.

He could tell he did a good job pleasuring you and it makes him proud. And your beauty never leaves no matter what state you’re in.

You whisper. “I’m your bad habit?” You let out a little giggle though because you find yourself liking that you’re his bad habit in a way.

Renjun grins leaning down. “Mhm that you are.” You watch him hover above your figure now as you guys were resting now with your steady heartbeats returning to their normal pace. He looks down at your kissable lips and so he lowers down only a little to give it a peck. You hear him speak as he did this. “You’re all my Bad Habits.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! Reblog this Fic and Follow me for more it helps a girl out. <3

#nct fanfiction #nct smut #nct x reader #nct u scenarios #nct hard hours #nct series #nct fic #nct recs #nct scenarios #renjun smut #renjun drabbles #renjun fluff #renjun fanfic #renjun x reader #huang renjun #renjun hard hours #renjun x y/n #renjun imagines #renjun hard thoughts #nct 127 smut #nct fanfic #nct dream smut #nct masterlist #nct masterpost #nct u smut #nct u imagines #nct u moodboard #nct dream hard hours #nct hard thoughts #nct dream fic

[alicanta77]

NCT Dream Reaction: You sitting in their lap

Mark:

this boy gets stressed

like properly stressed

he needs you often after a long day at work

and that comes in the form of cuddles

just place yourself on top of his and hold him tight

extra points if you play with his hair

you’ll probably hear some happy grumbles from him he purrs like a cat

as he feels like all the weight he carries around is completely lifted

and the relaxation suddenly takes over his being

another of his favourite times for this

is if you visit him at practice

just settle yourself in his lap during a break

and mark will curl up into you

relishing his short break

before you know it he suddenly has more energy to finish his practice

motivated by spending time with you once he’s done

you better have more cuddles ready for later

Renjun:

he likes hugs and moments like this

but probably not for a prolonged time

he’d rather you cuddled into his side if you were going to stay in that position

even with that being said

every now and then he will just wordlessly reach over and pull your onto his lap

just needs comfort

and that means he needs you as close as you could possibly be

so squeeze him tight

and definitely loves it if you pair it with a kiss on his forehead

one of the positions where he will just dissolve his “tough guy” act

and let you take care of him and baby him as much as you like

you could squish his cheeks together and kiss the pout that forms and he’d love it

something about this just makes him all mushy

Jeno:

definitely one of the ones who likes this the most

happens most often when he’s gaming

he really loves it when he’s gaming and you just come in and sit on him

that way he can cuddle you as well as play his game

like both of his favourites ways to relax at the same time

video games and you

you’ve accepted his love for games by now

in the habit of placing soft kisses on your temple in between levels/rounds

likes how protective it makes him feel about you

you just curl up into him as he holds you close

though jeno would never admit it

he adores moments like that

feelings as though you trust him enough to fall asleep on him

leaving it to him to care for you

he would do it willingly for the rest of his life

Donghyuck:

if you sit on his lap he will not be letting go part 1

this makes him so smug

like LOOK AT MY BABY THEY’VE CHOSEN ME THEY LOVE ME

10000000% will wrap his arms around you and bury his face into you and swing you from side to side

honestly you think he’s gonna accidentally throw you off him

but he never does

and whenever you bring it up he always says the same thing

“i would never let you go”

like jeno

loves when you sit on his lap when he’s gaming

it stops him from raging out if he loses or dies so that’s a plus

as are the unlimited kissed and cuddles he gets to give you

and by god he takes advantage of that

peppering kisses all over your face in between levels and stopping just as suddenly

but when he’s done gaming he’ll just sit there cuddling you

you’ve fallen asleep like this many times before

Jaemin:

if you sit on his lap he will not be letting go part 2

sit on his lap and you’re stuck there until he says so

and no you are not allowed to disagree or complain

and if you try you better be prepared cause you will get hit with the BIGGEST puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen this boy produce

jaemin needs physical contact of some kind at all times

preferably he would be completely stuck to you but that’s not possible

so he adores the moments when he can be close to you

so having you sit in his lap allows him to wrap his arms around you and pull you into him

it doesn’t matter if you’re facing him or facing away from him

he just wants you sat in his lap so that he can hold you

will probably make sure all the other seats around you have something or someone on them

just so he can say:

“don’t worry y/n you can sit here”

and pull you onto his lap with a smile and kiss

Chenle:

this would probably be very playful between the two of you

like he’ll pull you onto his lap and tickle your sides

he just loves to hear the genuine laughter that it pulls out of you

like the snorts and voice breaks kind of laughter

and he loves that he’s the reason for that

or he’ll pull you in then nuzzle into your neck

moving his nose around and holding you tight so you can’t escape

once again to hear your laughter

chenle is very fond of affection but he rarely takes it serious

he fully believes that laughter is the best medicine

so all his cuddles will result in you laughing in some way or another

whether that’s through corny jokes or tickles he will make you laugh

it’s through these giggles though that you’ll catch him whisper his affections of “i love you”

and it makes the moment even more perfect

Jisung:

he would prefer it if this only happened in private

mostly because you both know you would be subjected to an enormous amount of teasing if it happened around the boys

but he loves cuddles like this

he’ll be sat on the edge of the bed and just pull you onto him

wants you to be facing him so that he can look at your face as well

wrap your legs around him as well and he will just melt

i mean this boy will become putty in your hands

he also tends to completely lose track of time

i mean he could probably live like this if it was possible

correction

he would give literally anything for moments like this to last forever

while he can struggle with physical affection at times

this comes so easily to him

it’s almost become second nature to reach for you and pull you close to him

#nct dream reactions #nct dream #nct dream reaction #nct reactions #nct reaction #nct dream imagines #nct dream imagine #nct imagines #nct imagine #mark lee #huang renjun #lee jeno #lee donghyuck #na jaemin #zhong chenle #park jisung #nct x reader #nct dream x reader

[reveluving]

Damn ive never seen you earlier, you write graves just amazing :(

Idk if you are still taking requests but how do you think graves approached his shy gf/wife in the first place? Is he persuasive?

Aww babe!! That is so nice of you to say! 😭 Sorry it took a bit of time ‘cause I admit, I’ve never thought of this, not deeply, at least! Please enjoy ‘cause I know I did 😘💗

Includes: tooth-rotting fluff!

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

The possibilities of meeting Graves for the first time are endless, but I have two in mind!

The first scenario is a typical but well-loved meet cute at a café, or a bookstore or better; a book café! With you and him standing in one corner of the counter, waiting for your drinks. Graves has zero problems in offering you a polite smile, only for his amusement to grow when you return the smile, albeit a smaller one, before immediately averting your gaze. 

The barista’s taking a while to make your drinks, so after some time, he thought of just striking up a conversation.

“They’re sure takin’ their sweet time.” Was the first thing he said to you. A lighthearted comment—you would’ve been more worried if he was more gruff about it, and you weren’t even a worker there.

You nod, huffing in amusement while looking at the dishevelled teenager, “They don’t usually take this long.”

Graves nods along and though he asks you some things, such as if you were a regular customer or if you had any recommendations, regardless of whether it was sweet treats or any novels you may have stumbled upon (even if he’s not a fan of reading, he may or may not like the way you slowly yet surely open up with him), he keeps them a bare minimum. He doesn’t want you to feel forced, especially since he began the conversation.

Soon, the barista finally completes your order, but unfortunately, it’s prepared wrongly. 

Yours were hot while Graves was iced. The complete opposite of what you and he asked for.

He was perceptive, seeing you grimace but also ready to just accept whatever was offered, Graves spoke up.

“Excuse me, kid, but I’m pretty sure you got our orders mixed up,” You would’ve panicked if it wasn’t for his cordial approach. Disappointed or not, he had no problem hiding it. And even so, you couldn’t help but feel bad when they heard the dreadful words. They must’ve faced a harsher customer in the past. 

Graves was quick to reassure them, even telling them to take the mistaken orders and share with a colleague, much to your surprise. Of course, you weren’t expecting him to lash out, not right away, at least, but you weren’t blind to his… lifestyle. Just from the way he carried himself, you knew he must be some kind of a ‘man of the hour’. That, and the way he dressed/his items i.e. his laptop bag, phone. 

And yet, you never saw him as one of those unapproachable degenerates. Thinking they were high and mighty, maybe even cause a ruckus and gain some kind of benefit out of it. He was confident, sure, but he could’ve just ignored you the whole time, much like now. 

“Thank you.” You thanked him softly when the barista, with the weight seemingly lifted off their shoulders, went back to make you and Graves’ orders again. 

“It’s no problem. Thought y’might need a little help.” So he did notice. You wanted the floor to swallow you whole for not hiding your emotion better, but something about his smile, his lack of judgement, it didn’t make you feel too bad about it all. 

Plus, you couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t easy on the eye, either.

Bonus if you decide to take a leap and accept his offer of sitting together at the window seat, especially if it’s during the lunch rush! The two of you may become regulars at the café and soon enough, you exchange numbers!

The second scenario is actually part of a mini-series that I’m working on (read: collecting dust), with you being a florist! While I won’t spoil a whole lot, it involves our beloved Shiba Inu. By now, we all know Kai is extremely playful, borderline mischievous if it means being a loving pain in Graves’ ass. 

So, after looking away for a moment, only to find Kai making a mess out of some flower shop owner’s potted flowers, he’s initially more disappointed (but not surprised) than worried. But nothing a little Southern charm and a bit of reimbursement can’t solve. 

That is until he sees you.

And while this revelation wouldn’t leave him to tuck his tail between his legs, I can see him going like ‘oh’, turning away for a second to swear under his breath before putting on his award-winning smile. But in all honesty, there’s a tad bit of guilt in it, especially after he overhears you forgive Kai, who, surprisingly, is whimpering in front of you, despite your soft tone.

Oh, how Graves could never forget your voice. 

Upon approaching you at the front door, he immediately apologizes, and unlike other times where he’s trying to rush the conversation so it could all be said and done, he’s very patient with you, partially praying that you were with him, too. There’s just something so magnetic about you that he doesn’t want the conversation to end so soon. But with your bashfulness, he knows not to overwhelm you either, which was funny, since he never particularly thinks about that with others.

And from there, he has an inkling that you may be one of the few people he’s willing to learn more about while considering his own personality. So, while he doesn’t shy away from showing you his romantic side, and spoils you a whole lot, too, he also lets you know about his more ‘disliked’ personality. On days when you and he are more heart-to-heart with each other, he tells you about the side of him where he has to play offence to be the person that he is. He wants to be as transparent with you as possible, so you won’t catch a ‘whiplash’ with how he treats you versus how he treats others.

Whichever the cases may be, while he is persuasive, knowing that you’re one of a kind, he knows this is something he has to be patient about, and frankly, he’s more than fine with it. If you have a history of bad dating experiences, then you best believe that he’s willing to show you just how much you mean to him, and hopefully, vice versa. Graves isn’t one to think about a committed relationship, mostly because he never found one and with his line of work, it’s a lot to think about, but he is more than willing to adapt to the new changes (and finally spoil ‘the one’) for you.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

#— reve's reverie 🌹 #— reve's asks 🌹 #eyes locked hands locked series #phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves x f!reader #phillip graves x you #graves x reader #graves x f!reader #graves x you #cod graves #commander graves #commander graves x reader #commander graves x f!reader #commander graves x you #commander phillip graves #cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #cod mwiii

[javier-pena]

mine

Pairing: Wolverine/Logan x f!reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You are ready for a cozy evening in front of the TV - until Logan discovers something about you.

Warnings: breeding kink (this means unprotected p in v sex) | stereotypical gender roles but in a sexy kind of way | mention of food | use of body weight to restrain someone | rough sex | hair pulling | biting | very slight choking | creampie | a little bit of cum play

Notes: So, I was (re)watching all the X-Men movies in a very confusing chronological order and I couldn't help but notice how many times people call Wolverine an animal. Paired with his apparently great sense of smell it made me want to write a breeding kink story because Wolverine deserves to be a dad and live a happy life. Big thanks, as ever, go to Dani @alexturner​​ who forced me to do better with this than I had done.

***

The heat of the day is coating your neck in a sweaty sheen, a gust of warm evening air sends a cooling sensation down your spine. You straighten your back and stretch, relieving some of the tension that has been building while you were tidying up the cushions on the couch. The Canadian summer evening is still too warm for manual labor, but you want the house to look pretty for Logan.

For dinner, you’re preparing a salad and some homemade bread. All the fresh vegetables are cut and mixed, the bread is in the oven, slowly rising, a light brown crust stretching across the soft delicacy waiting inside. Now all that’s left to do is wait for your husband to get home from work. You spent all day preparing for this moment, running errands and fixing some minor things around the house. There is no special occasion justifying working through your list of chores other than wanting to spend a relaxing evening cuddled up on the couch, watching a dumb movie and sharing jokes. He deserves an evening of rest and relaxation.

Even though your senses have been on high alert for half an hour now, even though your hearing is focused on the sound of his truck tires outside of the house, your whole body brimming with anticipation, you don’t notice him coming in. But there is a presence behind you now. Something in the room is shifting; the air is thicker than before, everything is denser suddenly, and there is this tension, this strain, like a storm is about to break loose. You want to turn around and greet him, but before you get a chance, his strong, solid body is right behind you, so close you feel the warmth radiating off it. Even though he’s not touching you, you know you’re trapped, forced to stay close to the back of the couch, your gaze directed out the window opposite it, and at the mountain top you can see from here, bathed in that strange, everlasting summer glow.

Something is different tonight.

He touches you with a sudden urgency. His large hands cover your hips and part of your thighs as he pulls you back into him and you let him hold you while he towers above you. Nose buried in your neck, he breathes you in, the air tickling your warm skin. His grip is unrelenting, hard as steel – he makes it obvious that freeing yourself is not an option. But you don’t want to, not when he runs his lips over your shoulders, not when he pulls you even closer with a soft growl.

“I could smell you from halfway up the mountain,” he finally says, voice gravelly with want. And then he presses his clothed, hard length against your backside. “Did you wear a sundress on purpose? Did you leave the windows open on purpose? Admit it, you just wanted to distract me, lure me inside.”

You laugh airily, trying to downplay your confusion. “Logan, what are you talking about? How am I distracting you?”

He stops moving behind you and you can feel the tension rolling off him, you can feel how he’s holding back in the strain of his arms, in the way he gives you a tiny bit more space. Your breath catches in your throat, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep from whimpering. Yes, something is definitely different tonight.

When he speaks again, his voice is so deep it sends a jolt of pleasure down your spine. “Gorgeous thing like you, completely oblivious …,” he whispers, making you hold your breath, “it’s a good thing you have me to take care of you, sweetheart.”

He pulls you back into his chest, nose nudging your jaw and neck. Before you can get lost in the sensation, he cups one of your breasts and squeezes tightly, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you. And while he doesn’t allow you a single second to compose yourself, it dawns on you. It’s not easy to do the math when he’s all over you, but once you counted and recounted there can be no doubt. The rest of it isn’t important. You don’t care about the rest. Not when he’s pulling up the hem of your dress to grab handfuls of your ass. Not when he’s kneading it, pulling on the flesh, squeezing it. Not when he doesn’t stop until you both hear it – the lips of your pussy parting with a wet sound, and you grab the backrest of the couch to steady yourself. You know you’re adding fuel to the fire, but you can’t stop yourself from moaning his name, from trying to assure him you want this, from begging him to continue because you’re so wet for him all rational thought is impossible. Those few sounds are all he needs.

Those few sounds make him feral.

The next thing you hear is the sound of your dress tearing. He doesn’t care about ruining your clothes, not tonight, not when he’s guided by some ancient, animalistic instinct. Tightly wrapping the shreds around his hand and curling it into a fist, he presses it into your back to push you forward, make you lean over the backrest of the couch you just tidied up so nicely. Your breath comes in short bursts, somewhere between gulps and quiet moans, little pleas of anticipation. Another tear follows as he gets rid of your panties, pulls them off you and discards them carelessly. You’re starting to feel dizzy from how shallow you’re breathing, and you barely manage to remain standing, even though you have the couch to lean on. And then he unbuckles his belt.

You developed a Pavlovian response to that sound long ago, to the thick leather gliding through the hard metal holding it in place. But tonight, you don’t need it. Tonight, he already has you leaking in anticipation. You just close your eyes and wait for him, for the press of his thick length against your folds, for the way he will claim you with sure thrusts.

He makes you wait for it though, leaning down again, pressing his chest against your back, pushing you harder against the couch. The way he has trapped you now makes it impossible to escape. He breathes you in again, nose pressed against your neck. With his free hand, he lifts your hair, pulls on it to force you to expose more skin, holding it tightly wrapped around his fist once he’s satisfied. And then he bites down, hard, so fucking hard, that you know you’ll wake up a marked woman tomorrow. The feeling of his teeth digging into your soft flesh, the pain it brings you, makes you scream in surprise and need. You try to shift, to get just a tiny bit of friction against your clit because this is becoming unbearable. Your arousal is dripping down your thighs, and if he smelled what time of the month it is for you from outside the house, he’s definitely smelling that.

He pushes himself off you with a grunt and lets go of your hair. You barely have time to catch your breath before you feel his full, heavy cock press against your exposed ass. He runs it down to your soaked folds, teases you, gives you just enough to make your blood boil. And then he finally pushes inside of you, not slow and gentle like he usually does, but with one short, hard thrust that makes your fingers dig harder into the backrest of the couch as you hold on for dear life.

He gives you two more thrusts, almost experimentally, as if he’s trying to determine the right angle and the best amount of force to use, and once he’s satisfied, he grunts, “You’re taking me so well, sweetheart.” And then he lets go of the last bit of restraint that was still holding him back.

The couch beneath you shakes with his hard thrusts. It’s already too much, you feel on the verge of an orgasm, so you force yourself to focus on the way he feels inside of you, on how he’s stretching you open.

“I want to fill you.” It sounds like a promise.

He leans down again, which changes the angle slightly and makes you push yourself up on your tiptoes to accommodate him. Once more, he buries his teeth in your shoulder, worries the flesh between his teeth until tears shoot to your eyes.

“I’m going to make you take my cum over and over again until you’re swelling,” he growls right next to your ear, “until I can see it leak from your pretty cunt, until it takes.”

You struggle against him, but not to escape him. Pushing yourself back onto his cock until he’s buried to the hilt inside of you, you want to tell him how much you want this, but before you get a chance, he pushes himself back up. There is one tiny indulgence you allow yourself though, one glance across your shoulder at the man who has you in his grip, at your husband, the father of your future children. Your gaze lands on his eyes clouded over with feral lust, his flushed neck, his shirt stretched tightly over his chest, as he struggles to keep breathing.

“Please, I want it to take,” you whisper. “Please fuck me harder, please make sure it stays inside of me.”

You roll your hips forward then backward, letting your head fall down between your straining arms. Again and again, you push and push, desperately fucking yourself on his cock while he tries to match you. All that is audible between the two of you are the sounds of your shared desperation. And it’s not enough.

“Please fill me up,” you beg. “Please … I – I want to ride you afterwards.”

You’re not sure if it’s too much, if it goes beyond what he wants to do tonight. He lets go of your dress, but grabs your hip to still you, and for one wild moment you’re sure it was too much. It’s only the hard, frenzied way he starts to thrust into you over and over again that disabuses you. His other hand finds its way to your neck and closes around it, not hard, but definitely strong enough to keep you in your place.

“You’re going to look so fucking beautiful and full when it takes …” He’s out of breath now. “And don’t worry, it will take.” That thought alone, that image of your belly growing big with his child, makes your head spin. After a beat, he adds, “Everyone will know you belong to me.”

It immobilizes you. You let him fuck you like this, rough and fast, so hard every thrust pushes you into the couch and pushes the couch along the floor. He’s so strong, stronger than anyone you know, and you couldn’t wish for a better protector for you and the child he will give you. But then any thought, any feeling, any stirring at all is fucked out of your head and heart when he tightens his hold on you and his thrusts become frantic, animalistic. It feels like he doesn’t care if he breaks you, all he cares about is breeding you. Your pussy clenches tightly around his cock, fighting to keep him inside of you, and with that little bit of extra friction he comes, emptying himself with a low grunt.

You can feel his spend coating your walls, and that is what pushes you over the edge. You join him, whimpering desperately, clenching and clenching until he has given you every last drop. He pulls out roughly and you whimper more; the feeling of being used by him like this makes the edges of your ebbing orgasm flare up again. The sound you hear when he drops to his knees behind you is dull, the sound you hear when he pushes a hand between your legs is wet.

He gathers some of his spend leaking out of you on his fingers, then shoves them up between your legs roughly, trying to keep it all inside of you. You let him, even though you’re overstimulated, and every touch makes you push yourself away from his ministrations. He grips your hip again to hold you in place, pushes two fingers inside of you, and you whimper loudly, unable to escape the onslaught.

“Mine,” he growls, as he watches his fingers coated in your joint arousal disappear inside your swollen folds.

***

wolverine/logan taglist: @paintlavillered​

permanent taglist: @amneris21​ | @aurelacmoon | @chronic-nosebleed​ | @din-jarhead​ | @harriedandharassed​ | @littlemissthistle​ | @martellthemandalor​ | @nyfeeer | @nobodys-baby-now​ | @od-ends​ | @pedrorascal​ | @radiowallet​

#logan x reader #wolverine x reader #logan x you #wolverine x you #logan #wolverine #x men #fanfic #yes i did have a look at some sexy lumberjacks for this lmao

[bestworstcase]

anyways. enough spitballing

i was so right abt fun parent tai

YANG: Do you… wonder why he’s not here? With everybody else? I know Qrow said he’s on assignment, but what’s more important than here? RUBY: Maybe we don’t have the full picture. YANG: I don’t know. Some things you just need to be there for.

first. there are two possibilities: if qrow knows what this “assignment” is, he hasn’t filled in his nieces and the old guard backslid HARD after team rwby fell—the exclusion of ren and nora from the secret meeting in B1 also points in that direction, so it feels quite plausible; on the other hand, if raven knows where tai is and what he’s doing, it seems strange that ruby and yang would not also know, unless the girls haven’t asked her about summer at all (in which case i’d believe that they’re just not really on speaking terms).

like if raven had a conversation with ruby about summer, i can’t see her hiding ‘the full picture’ with regard to tai if she knew about it, even if qrow wanted her to. maiden of knowledge, begrudging oz his secrets, and all.

on the other hand. if the girls know everything qrow does, that would imply that tai’s “assignment” is either an ozpin secret (and oz hasn’t been keeping his promise to be honest, which feels incongruous with him actively fighting his curse now) or a taiyang secret, in which case i am one hundred percent sure it isn’t to do with the crown of choice.

“maybe we don’t have the full picture,” says ruby, thinking about what the blacksmith showed her and what the blacksmith said. that’s the big lesson she learned in the tree, not to jump to conclusions on incomplete information. so that narratively links tai’s mysterious “assignment” to summer’s mysterious “last mission,” which was a “summer secret.” if tai stayed behind in vale to deal with a taiyang secret that not even oz knows about… it’s summer. lol. it can only be summer. if it were the crown, oz would know because ozpin would have given him that assignment in the first place; if it were defending people hiding in mountain glenn, there’s no reason for it to be secret.

but if he knows summer is alive and well and with salem, and he’s trying to, i don’t know, turn her against salem (or ‘save’ her)… well. maybe we don’t have the full picture indeed.

second. oouuugh the weight of what yang doesn’t say. back in v4 she forced herself to put on the prosthetic before she was ready and white-knuckled her way back to functional so she could go find ruby because her dad said he hadn’t gone after ruby because he had “some stuff to look after” at home, and yang thought he meant her; that the only reason he wasn’t out there with ruby was because he had to be here with her.

so she removed herself from the situation—left to find ruby herself—and tai… stayed at home. it’s been months, now. atlas fell and everyone is regrouping in vacuo, trying to prepare for an attack they know will come sooner or later, except tai, who is “on assignment.” what’s more important than here? what’s more important than being here with both his daughters, at the end of the world? if qrow knows, what’s so important that he has to keep them in the dark? if qrow doesn’t know, then it can’t reasonably be to do with the relic at beacon—which is the only thing that could arguably be more important than joining the vacuo coalition.

“some things you just need to be there for,” says yang. my dad just kind of… shut down. and then dad was always busy with school and ruby couldn’t even talk yet; i had to pick up the pieces. i had to keep things together, alone. ruby starts to reminisce about coming to this place with tai when they were kids, and it’s a fond memory for yang too…but one undercut with all of this. the outings were fun—they slowly increased from once a month treats to twice-a-week because ruby got so excited—(ruby is over the moon when she sees the boba shop; yang spends half the walk there second-guessing herself and downplaying the surprise; both reactions speak to their experiences of these outings in childhood)—and why isn’t he here now? why is it, once again, yang trying to pick up the pieces alone while he’s busy with something else more important?—and this time it isn’t even that he’s going to work to put food on the table and make sure bills get paid, he’s just “on assignment” doing… something. that qrow either won’t tell or doesn’t know.

and that feeling is what incites her to talk to ruby about her own failings, and the first thing she says is i don’t need an explanation, because she doesn’t want to make ruby’s crisis about herself but also because she’s about to apologize for not being attentive enough or present enough or aware enough to Be There when ruby needed her.

which is not untrue (surprise! parentified children don’t make good parents for their two-years-younger siblings!) but also. back in v5 when she confronted raven, yang compared herself to raven (you’ll give me the relic and run because you’re afraid of salem; i’m afraid of salem too but i’ll be here waiting for her when she comes after me).

and that’s what yang is doing here with tai (he was physically there and provided for their needs and took them on fun outings sure, but he wasn’t there, when yang looks back on her childhood what she remembers is a sense of overwhelming responsibility and isolation because her dad wasn’t present, and now he’s not even here; she let ruby down in a similar way, being around without really seeing what ruby was going through, but she sees now how she failed and knows what she needs to do to make up for it and she will, she promises, she already is.)

#they are not uh. kid gloving tai at all

[chimielie]

Iwaizumi // moving back to Japan, leaving you in the process

He’s snoring slightly.

You’re propped up against the headboard of your shared bed, hands folded over your middle, skin tingling where his arm is thrown over you. Even now, his fingers twitch slightly, an unconscious attempt to pull you closer while sleep and shut-eyed inaccuracy weaken him. You look down at him, resisting the urge to kiss his cheek, knowing the movement will wake him.

He’s always such an active sleeper, snuffling often but never quite forming distinct words, rolling around in search of you if you separate from his unconscious body. You’re long since used to the tossing and turning, the soft noises that lull you to sleep better than any white noise machine. You could record him, sell it. People would love that kind of thing—from him, especially.

Tomorrow (in a few hours, you remind yourself), Hajime is leaving. He’s done it before. You’d been nervous, but your relationship had survived a week, then two, then three months. Five years in a row, you had waved goodbye to him and wished he were back as soon as he left your line of sight. Two years ago and the last, you’d gone home with him, but that had been only two weeks of blissful touring of Japan, and he had visited on his own five more times besides.

In a few hours (you check the clock. Two hours to go, but he’ll wake up an hour early because he loves to be prepared) he’ll kiss you awake and buy you Starbucks cake pops in lieu of breakfast while you tease him about being a terrible nutritionist for it. Both of these will taste like an apology. His uncle will pick up the both of you and drive you to LAX, and you’ll hold hands in the backseat and listen to the city waking up.

Then: before he checks in, he’ll take you aside. He’ll say, I didn’t want to do this in public, I know this is sudden, and I want you to know you can say no. Just like you heard him practicing on the phone with Tooru. And Hajime will offer you something irresistible. He’ll tell you that he can’t stand the thought of these circumstances pulling you apart, that he knows you’ve already agreed to split up but that he wants to fight for this, that he’ll be grateful if you give him any chance at all.

And you will say yes.

This, you think, eyes stinging as you stare into the dark, is the whole problem.

You love Hajime, enough that you could be happy, FaceTiming him and falling asleep to the sound of his tinned voice and paying a fortune for the price of love. You’ve loved him so much for years now; a younger you would have bought a plane ticket on the spot. You’ve loved him so long you know: when he’s in Japan, Hajime will forget you exist.

You don’t blame him for it, necessarily. He isn’t an online person, his itinerary is always packed when he visits, he’s awful at calculating the time difference. Every trip starts off with a daily call and ends with days of radio silence before he shows up back home, ready to wrap you in a bear hug and make all your worries go away.

You trust Hajime, and you can live with short bursts of this. You can’t extend that to indefinitely, maybe forever. Hajime’s life—his dream job, his family, his friends, mostly—is in Japan. He loves his home.

You love California. It’s many things to you, including the place you met Hajime. This state is love to you.

Your paths must diverge here, and if you let him—if he asks you, strong voice gone shy, rough features softening for you, you’ll look into his beautiful stupid face that you love and agree without thinking, because who needs a brain when you have a heart? Your heart, the heart he holds, cannot be shattered six months down the line, when he wakes up and realizes that he hates the string tying him to the golden coast.

The light grey hour before dawn lets in a little light, and you wonder at the way the early morning makes everything feel unreal and distant. You’re grateful, though. You need this to do what you’re going to do.

You lift the dead weight of his arm, slide out of the bed, socked feet hitting the cold floor. You drop your phone when you unplug it and freeze, looking back to see if the sound woke him. Three even breaths later, you relax, a little too much. You break, you give in, and you bend over him, a wet teardrop shining in the air between you before landing on his face. The track looks nearly natural, though there’s a peaceful smile on his face as he sleeps. You brush a thumb softly beneath his eye, wiping away the evidence of it, and you can’t help it. You kiss his cheek, hoping he can feel your love like this, hope that he knows that you’re saving him from yourself.

He rouses slightly, eyes bleary and barely open, dark and pleased and perfect. You can’t look at them too long.

“Just getting some water,” you murmur against his warm skin. “Go back to sleep.”

He makes a noise deep in his chest and his eyes shut. You linger for a moment, tell him you love him and call him by name for the last time, and slip away as the sun rises.

part two here

#this is my favorite hajime angst ive written also i hate myself now #my baby </3 #if u have questions ab logistical aspects of this fic i have answers to fill the plot holes #ask n answer #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu!! angst #haikyuu!! x reader angst #hq x reader angst #shorts!

[naraven]

HSR ACTOR AU

summary: everything is the same but honkai: star rail is just a tv show, nothing is wrong so nothing is actually the same, but!! i was brainrotting over this with @faesther and i think we both learned: we are both the most delulu people on this planet 😋

wc // 945

tw // the tingyun neck snap is kind of glossed over but not that detailed

[dan heng/dan feng]

A shaky camera records what seems to be a phone focused on a young man, and muffled giggling comes from behind the camera. The recording shows a greenscreen background and a set of what appeared to be ruins. The camera zooms in toward the man, hanging out alone. Literally. 

“C’mon, Dan Heng, do the thing! Do the magical girl transformation!” Cheers an energetic girl behind the camera, and one could assume she was the one holding the phone. Another girlish laugh joins in behind the camera as the camera shakes with each laugh. 

“They picked the worst time to be taking a break. I can’t feel my left rib cage when I’m not moving.” The man dubbed ‘Dan Heng’ grins at the camera while swaying back and forth two feet off the floor. On either side were wires holding him up, and unintentionally or not making him sway. A gray haired young woman pushes him slightly and the three laugh hysterically as he swings even more.

The camera pans to ‘Blade’ and ‘Yanqing,’ who were staring at the script before their mini break ended. The teenage boy idly twirls his sword around, almost hitting ‘Blade,’ before noticing the camera. He jogs over and opens his mouth to pretend eat the camera.

“Are you even in this scene?” He joins ‘Stelle’ in pushing ‘Dan Heng’ back and forth. 

“Doesn’t matter! Are you even ready for your big scene with Magical Girl Dan Feng?”

“For the last time, I am not a magical girl.” The man being swung around protests, and the camera does nothing to help the unflattering way his legs swing like pendulums as he continues to be assaulted on both sides.

The group continues fooling around before time is called, and ‘Yanqing’ goes back to join ‘Blade’ to start the scene once more.

“Oh no not the sword again…” ‘Dan Heng’ sighs, “I’m already heavy enough alone, do we really have to add another weight on here?”

“Don’t be a baby, it’s gonna slip out soon anyways!” The voice behind the camera cheers.

‘Yanqing’ goes over his lines once more, watching as ‘Stelle’ stops ‘Dan Heng’ from swaying any more. The camera shows the teen whining as he has his own wires to worry about now. ‘Blade’ and ‘Kafka’ head over their own spots in the scene.

“We really bullied a teenage boy in this scene, didn't we?” ‘Dan Heng’ mutters as ‘Blade’ helps relieve his sore sides.

“Not you, it’s the other you.” 

“Same difference.”

~~~

[horn-y]

“Surrender!”

‘Dan Feng’ deftly swam through the air, swerving swords whizzing past his ear. ‘Yanqing’, for his young age, was firmly in the zone. He prepared a counterattack against the boy and he spotted ‘Blade’ preparing an attack of his own. His laughter echoes around the entire set, sending chills down ‘Dan Heng’s’ spine. 

‘Dan Heng,’ not wanting to be one-upped, goes through the motions that he had practiced with the other two on the set. He turns around, focused and in the zone himself. He could feel the eyes of off-set actors and staff and the cameras pointed at him, as ‘Dan Feng.’

Everything pauses for a moment. He and ‘Blade’ make eye contact, and rush the young boy. ‘Yanqing’ braces himself and prepares to parry the both of them, and ‘Dan Feng’ has to commend the younger actor for his confidence.

‘Blade’ brings back his weapon, swinging down at ‘Yanqing-’

“Cut!”

‘Dan Feng’ pauses, the sudden strident sound catching the attention of everyone. Before he could ask what happened, ‘Blade’ leans toward him.

“Oh, your horn.”

‘Blade’ bends down to pick up a branch-like prop, and it looks very similar to what he put on for his ‘Dan Feng’ outfit.

He brings a hand to his temple, and sure enough, there's a lack of horn on the right side of his head. He groans, leaning onto the wire in frustration.

“Nooo, we were doing so well…” He cries, covering his face with both hands.

‘Blade’ reassures him as he helps him put his horn back on. His praises are kind and well-meaning, but he can’t help but feel bad about the whole thing. If only he had noticed this stupid horn falling off earlier…

~~~

[sister snapped]

*SNAP!*

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT-”

“AHHHHH WHAT ON EARTH!”

‘Welt,’ although hiding his own shock, turns to scowl at his fellow members of the Astral Express, “Didn’t you know this was going to happen?”

“NO??” ‘March 7th’ snaps her neck just as quickly as ‘Tingyun’ did, and ‘Dan Heng’ worries she might need to be reminded how to properly do such a stunt safely.

“Sorry, sorry, I forgot…” ‘Stelle’ calms down quicker but still has to swallow thickly. ‘March 7th’ clings onto her costars arm, the tension loosening as she pets her head.

Staff were on set, offering ‘Tingyun’ a towel. They asked, concerned, if she needed a break, and she insists that she could do a couple more takes. She turns to her ‘benefactors’ with a sly smile on her face.

“Sorry, I scared you that bad, huh? Just make sure your reaction isn’t too genuine in the real take.” She boops ‘March 7th’s’ nose, to which the girl blinks at.

“Phew, yeah, alright, I’m ready now! I won’t freak out too badly the next time for sure.”

‘Stelle’ sighs, “You sound like you’re talking more to yourself than to her.”

The director calls for the scene to start once more. ‘Welt’ pats both ‘Stelle’ and ‘March 7th’s’ head before going over to his spot on the scene, “Just remember not to yell that loudly again. You got this, you two.”

“Thanks, sir…”

#hsr #honkai star rail #star rail #dan heng #stelle #march 7th #tingyun #welt yang #hsr actor au #!!! #more is definitely to come

[lockes-woods]

Stuck Chapter 6

“So, it wasn’t a sex thing, but sex isn’t off the table?” Sanji asked Himiko as they make their way back to her apartment to meet up with Vivi and Nami. They had just finished their opening shift at the café.

“I guess; that part wasn’t super clear. Mihawk made it clear that if we were to have sex that it wouldn’t affect any of their payments to me. So, it wouldn’t cause the payment to stop, increase or decrease.” Himiko said as they paid their fare and waited for the train back to her downtown apartment.

“What did Shanks say?” he asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot impatiently.

“Um, he said that it was pointless for them not to admit that they find me attractive. And that sex would only happen if I wanted it.” she replied shyly.

“So, Shanks was up front with it, but Mihawk was more round about with it.” Sanji asked.

“I guess so? Mihawk did not confirm or deny whether or not he found me attractive or if he wanted to sleep with me.” Himiko answered as they entered the packed subway car. Himiko and him found a spot to stand in the corner. She quickly grabbed a strap before the train jerked into motion. She envied Sanji’s ability to keep balanced and hold a drink carrier with three full hot drinks without spilling a drop. She was struggling to keep her tote bag on her shoulder and hold her iced latte at the same time.

 “Just because he didn’t explicitly say it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to be with you.” He pointed out as he relaxed into his stance.

 “I guess; If I’m being honest, I still can’t believe they are willing to pay that much money to hang out with me when one of them is busy.” Himiko said.

 “Would you also have to hang out with them when they’re together?" he asked.

 “I don’t know; I was kinda blind sided by the proposition as a whole to ask any follow up questions.” Himiko started, “It kinda all just sound too good to be true.”

 “I don’t know, I’m not saying you should throw caution into the wind and go for it,but this may be a once in a lifetime opportunity to get your degree. I’d drop everything if I got a chance to like that.” Sanji said honestly. “If you don’t go for it, I might have to throw my hat into the ring,” He joked. She just rolled her eyes at him as they made their way up the three flights of steps to her place.

“It’s not like I’m completely ruling it out I just need to talk out my options before I agree to this kind of arrangement.”

“I know, I know. I just can’t really think of any downsides to an arrangement like this. It’s not even like they’re creepy old men. They’re both super hot.”

 “How do you know Shank’s hot?” Himiko laughed as she fished out her keys.

 “Oh, I’ve been cyber stalking them since Thursday night.”

 “Really?” Himiko asked as she opened the door.

 “What? If my besties entering into a sugar daddy situation, I want to know all the facts first. Also, it’s partially his fault for having a public Instagram.” Sanji said, defending himself.

 “Is this even considered a sugar daddy situation?” she asked as they made their way into the apartment.

 “Oh, it’s totally a sugar daddy situation.” Nami called out from the kitchen.

 “I thought you had to be having sex for it to be labeled that.” Himiko asked confused.

 “Sugar daddy refers to a relationship between older men and younger women where gifts are exchanged for company or sex,” Vivi answered, reading off of her phone.

 “You just had that at the ready?” Himiko laughed while the four of them made their way into the living room.

 “You say that like she doesn’t have a whole ass power point prepared.” Nami said with a smile.

 “There’s a power point?” Himiko asked confused.

 “I mean yeah. When Nami asked me to look into them I took it seriously.” Vivi said slightly embarrassed.

 “Why’d she asks you to look into them?” Sanji asked. Himiko was equally confused until she remembered-

 “Because her major is in homeland security.” Himiko answered now feeling dumb.

 “Oh, I always thought you were majoring in cyber security.” He said, handing Vivi her drink.

 “That was my major until I found out that they offered a homeland security major; I’m now minoring in cyber security.” She answered as she took a seat on the couch next to Nami. Sanji circled round the coffee table and took the last spot on the couch leaving the armchair for Himiko.

 “Anyway, I gave both of them a general background check as well as combing through their social medias.” Vivi started as her power point popped up on their TV.

 “Is this all really necessary? It feels like an invasion of privacy.” Himiko asked slightly flustered.

 “Hey, if you’re going to be financially dependent on these guys, I want to make sure everything is on the up and up.” Nami answered seriously while Sanji nodded his head in agreement.

 “Okay, I guess you can start whenever you’re ready Vivi.” Himiko said as she got comfortable in her seat.

 “Overall neither of them has a criminal history, or any habits that may become debilitating. They have been married for the past four years; it’s unclear when they first got together. They are both openly queer; Shanks post about their relationship more often than Mihawk does. That being said Mihawk post less overall so their proportion of post about their relationship is about the same.” Vivi states before clicking through the title slide to a picture of them together on a tropical beach somewhere. Sanji lets out a low whistle that Himiko rolls her eyes at.

 “Alright so I’ll start off with Shanks,” she said clicking through to the next slide. “He graduated from our university’s undergraduate program at 22 summa cum laude. He majored in political science. Two years later he graduated summa cum laude with a master’s in law. After graduation he immediately started working for the Oro Jackson law firm.” Vivi said clicking to the next slide that showed a younger Shanks shaking hands with Gol D. Rogers.

 “God damn,” Sanji said checking out the photo on the screen.

 “Really?” Himiko asked exasperated as she threw a pillow at his head.

 “What, I have eyes and that man is fine at any age.” Sanji defended himself as he rubbed the spot where the pillow hit him.

 “I mean I’m gay and even I have to admit that they’re both super hot.” Nami said while Vivi nodded in agreement.

 “Can we just continue?” Himiko narked.

 “Gladly,” Vivi said clicking to the next page labeled Career Cont. “He worked his way up the corporate ladder and made partner when he was 31. He regularly works pro bono and is heavily involved in the firm’s community outreach. It’s rumored that he will be starting his own law firm in the next couple of years.”

 “Damn he’s hot and has a good heart,” Nami said while she put down her drink and settled into the couch. Sanji nodded in agreement looking at the picture of him dreamily.

 “He has an excellent credit score and co owns two properties; a penthouse in uptown and a lake house an hour outside the city. He also has an impressive investment portfolio.” Vivi said as she clicked through the slide listing his fiscal qualities before she continues, “To rap up Shank’s portion the only semi red flag I could find was the amount of time he spends at your bar per week, but that may have more to do with you than his drinking habits.” Vivi finished. Himiko can feel her face heat up at Vivi’s comment as she avoided eye contact and played with the tassels on the throw pillow she was hugging. Now that she thought about it, he normally only had one or two drinks when he wasn’t celebrating a win. On the quieter nights he would opt to sit at the bar and talk. Sometimes alone or sometimes with fellow partners from the firm.

 “Mihawk is one year younger than Shanks but graduated the same year from the same university.” Vivi continued snapping Himiko out of her train of thought; her head shot up to continue to follow along with Vivi’s presentation. “He also graduated summa cum laude with a degree in microbiology. He went to a graduate program out of state before returning to the city to start his internship at center city hospital. He is currently an attending physician in the surgical department; his specialty is in neurosurgery. He is being primed to take over as chief of surgery when the current chief retires.” Vivi pauses to take a sip of her drink before continuing. “He shares the same fiscal portfolio as Shanks. As far as I could tell there are no red flags for Mihawk. He appears to be more of a home body than Shanks is.” Vivi finished as she clicked through the end of her slide show.

 “Thanks for putting all this together,” Himiko said turning from the TV back to facing the couch.

 “Oh, it was nothing.” Vivi said slightly flustered, “Honestly it was good practice.”

 “I think you did a great job babe,” Nami said beaming at Vivi. Vivi returned a shy smile.

 “Okay, so I’m not seeing any downsides to this.” Sanji said glancing around them to see if anyone disagreed.

 “I mean my only hang up was possibly outing them or for this to be a beard kinda situation, but if they’re already both out I don’t really have any concerns.” Himiko said.

 “I honestly didn’t find anything sketchy and they’re definitely making enough money to support you without it breaking the bank.” Vivi commented.

 “I feel better about this than I did before the presentation, but I still not a hundred percent there.” Nami said honestly.

 “Would you feel better if you met them?” Himiko asked, “You, Luffy and Vivi are the only ones that haven’t met either of them.”

 “Maybe, I don’t want to stain your relationship with them while it’s still forming.” Nami answered.

 “I don’t think either of them would mind meeting them. If they did that would honestly be a red flag I’d like to know about.” Himiko said as she pulled out her phone to text the Dilf’s group chat.

  “If you’re okay with then yeah, it’d make me feel better to know who you’ll be spending your free time with.” Nami nodded. Himiko opened up her messenger app and started typing.

Himiko: Hey, I’m almost done deciding,

Himiko: sorry it’s taking so long.

Himiko: Can my sister meet you before I decide?

Shanks: You have nothing to be sorry about.

Shanks: We want you to be confident in your decision.

Shanks: Mihawk is most likely doing rounds right now but he should be free in about an hour. Do you and your sister want to meet up at the botanical garden then?

 “When do you work today?” Himiko asked looking up at Nami.

 “Um one sec.” Nami says pulling out her phone, “I work at 3:30.”

 “Are you okay with meeting up with them in like an hour in center city?” she asked.

 “Yeah, that’ll work.” Nami nodded. Himiko nodded and sent a text confirming the time and place.

***

 “Why do I feel nervous?” Nami laughed as they ascended the subway steps up to center city.

 “I don’t know this feels pretty low steaks to me; you’re basically just doing a vibe check.” Himiko responded.

 “Yeah, but what if I mess up the vibe check and cost you this opportunity; or worse I think they pass the vibe check and then they do something awful.” Nami said with a concerned look on her face.

 “I think you’re overthinking this. Even if you make the wrong call, it’s in no way your fault. If they do something bad it’s solely on them not you.” Himiko said comfortingly as they stopped at the entrance to the garden.

 “Ready?” Himiko asked looking at Nami.

 “Ready,” Nami confirmed with a smile as they make their way to the center of the garden. Himiko immediately spotted the back of Shank’s head as they approached behind him. She didn’t see Mihawk yet, but they were early.

 “Is that him?” Nami whispered, nodding in Shank’s direction. Himiko nodded as they got within shouting distance of him. Shanks turned his head at the sound of crunching leaves and greeted them with his breath-taking smile.

 “Hey, Himiko early as always.” He teased as he got up from his seat on the bench.

 “You say that like you haven’t been earlier than me both time’s we’ve met outside of work.” Himiko laughed.

 “That’s only because my lovely husband likes to nag me into being early to things.” He joked, “Ah, speak of the devil.” Shanks said nodding behind them. Nami and Himiko turned to see Mihawk coming towards them in long strides.

 “Sorry for being late,” he said as he came into their cluster, “You must be Nami,”

He said holding out his hand to her. Nami exchanged a small smile and returned his handshake.

 “I don’t think you were late,” Himiko said checking her phone, “We were all just early.”

 “I suppose so, but I’m still sorry you had to wait.” Mihawk said as they turned to face him in a circle. After a pause Shanks broke the silence by greeting Nami.

 “I’m Shanks by the way,” he said holding out his hand. Nami shook it before he continued. “You’re sisters?” he asked glancing between them with a quirked brow.

 “Oh, she’s adopted,” Nami said in a mock whisper as she blocked her mouth’s view from Himiko with her hand.

 “You say that like you’re not also adopted.” Himiko says exasperated causing both men and Nami to laugh.

 “So, is it just the two of you living in the city?” Shanks asked.

 “Yeah, we moved here for a fresh start after our mom passed away a few years ago.” Nami answered.

 “We actually have a third sister, Nojiko, she’s the oldest out of the three of us. She decided to stay home in Florida. She co-owns and runs a tangerine grove.” Himiko adds on.

 “I didn’t realize that you were from the south.” Mihawk said tilting his head.

 “Oh, I’m not I was born in the northeast. My dad and I moved around a lot while I was growing up. We just happened to be in Florida when he passed away and Bellemere, Nami’s mom, took me in.” Himiko filled in.

 “I’m sorry to hear you had so many losses so close together.” Shanks said sympathetically.

 “I appreciate that, but we’re alright; it’s not like we had to go through it alone.” Himiko responded.

 “Yeah, we always had each other.” Nami nodded, bumping shoulders with Himiko as they shared a smile.

 “Now that we’ve met is there anything in particular you would like to know about us?” Mihawk asked looking down at Nami.

 “Not really, I mostly came here as a vibe check, and you both seem fine. I was really more making sure you two weren’t psycho murderers.” Nami answered honestly, before turning to Himiko. “Even though you don’t really need it, you have my blessing.”

 “Thanks Nom.” Himiko said

 “Anytime Ko,” Nami said before looking down at her phone, “I should head to work. It was nice meeting both of you.” Nami nodded at the two men before heading off.

 “No pressure, but have you made your decision yet?” Shanks asks turning his attention back to Himiko. She bit her lip and nodded.

 “Yes, I’m in.” She answered.

 “That’s great!” Shanks said with a smile, Mihawk nodded in agreement.

 “When would you be able to start?” Mihawk asked.

 “It’ll take two weeks for my schedule to change at work. After that I would be able to do this part time until the semester ends.”

 “Alright, I guess we’ll plan to start on the 3rd of December?” Shanks asked.

 “That sounds right,” Himiko nodded, “I should be able to see you in between that time depending on my schedule.”

 “Alright, I’m glad we were able to work this out,” Mihawk starts glancing down at his watch, “I should head back to work.” He said before pecking Shanks on the lip and nodding at Himiko with a small smile. He turned and headed back to the side door he came out of.

 “Can I walk you back to the subway?” Shanks asked smiling down at Himiko.

 “Sure,” she said returning the smile. Their hands brushed every few steps as they made their way back to the street.

MASTER LIST

#slow burn #modern au #sugar daddy au #surgeon mihawk #dilf mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #dilf shanks #red haired shanks x reader #red haired shanks #red haired shanks x dracule mihawk #bisexual reader #red haired shanks x dracule mihawk x reader #cross posted on ao3 #mishanks x reader

[qdbs-writes]

Can i have a fic with shang tsung training with his s/o and they accidentally faint during the training sesh. (Probably from exerting themselves too much because we all know we'd be stubborn with shang hee hee)

Gender neutral pronouns is fine.

Impact - Shang Tsung x GN!Reader

Words: 727

Shang Tsung paced up and down the target range where you were training, hands folded neatly behind his back. “Harder! Do you think the enemy will be as kind as I am? Do you think they will be patient as you fail?” he scorns. Training under Tsung wasn’t easy, but frankly precious little ever is. You’d had a late start today, only waking up at 5am. In order to make up for your blatant disregard for discipline, you had begun practice immediately to avoid your master’s ire. It was now midday, with the high Sun beating down on you from overhead. Sweat pours into your eyes as you try to blink it away, you almost can’t hear what Tsung is saying. “Their annihilation must be swift and uncompromising. Every moment you do not succeed may be your last. Harder!” he points to the slowly crumbling target opposite you. But you could never bring yourself to regret Shang Tsung’s instructions, your training was far from just physical, you were also formally educated in nearly every aspect of magick he considered important (which was all of them). He also made sure to train you in formal dinner etiquette and to practice the art of talking, moulding you into a charming and charismatic conversationalist. Although charisma was currently last on your list of priorities, your body aching in all the most unpleasant ways. Your vision was beginning to flicker, and you could hear your heartbeat loudly in your ears. It takes all your concentration to prepare even a single strike on the target. You hear a mumbling that sounds like Tsung’s voice, but before you could make the words out; everything goes black.

The next thing you know is that you’re horizontal and you’ve got one hell of a headache. You blink your eyes open to a blurry ceiling, unable to make out the intricate wooden carvings. You hear the sound of dripping water before a damp cloth is draped over your forehead, with smooth fingers coming to cradle your temples. You pull your eyes up only to be surprised to see your master’s face hovering above your own. Tsung stokes your hairline gently, his gaze remaining calmly fixated on you. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?” he asks in a steady voice.

You take a breath only to realise that your head is currently resting in Tsung’s lap. You swallow your nerves before responding “A little sore. What happened?”.

“You fainted during practice. It was not the softest landing. I’m sorry, I pushed you too hard, I didn’t see that you were so far beyond your limit.” His thumb shifts to stroke your cheek, as he mournfully turned his gaze elsewhere.

You reach up to hold his wrist in your hand, “No, I wanted to push myself. I wanted to be stronger for you, I wanted to make you proud…”.

Tsung lifts your hand in his and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, “How stubborn of you. Don’t you realise that you need never suffer for my pride? Your pain wounds me more than the sharpest of blades, dearest, I cannot stand to see you hurt.” He grips your hand earnestly.

“I’m sorry…” you mumble.

“Enough of this. You will have a week’s rest from physical training, and—"

“What? No!” You interrupt him, sitting up from his lap and whipping about to face him, clasping your head, “No, Master, please, I’m ready for more, if you’ll just let me—”

“Enough! No begging will sway me, I refuse to encourage more of your recklessness. And that is final!” he asserts. The echo of his words off the walls revealed the anger with which he had shouted. A guilty shame came across his face, “I’m sorry I yelled. But you must understand that your safety is paramount.” He gives you a pointed look, piercing you with his sight alone.

“… Yes, master. Of course.” You double down, the weight of your swallowed ambition sinking into your chest. Perhaps if you had been honest with Tsung, you wouldn’t be in this situation.

A relieved warmth returns to his face, “Thank you. Now please, come have some soup, I had it made specially for you.”.

You decide it’s worth placating Tsung for now, as you’d already upset him. And besides, you got some good soup out of all this.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat headcanon #mortal kombat x reader #mk x reader #shang tsung #shang tsung x reader #impact fic #qdbs-writing

[rotationalsymmetry]

Ways a little knowledge can be dangerous (or at least kind of misleading) with health at every size and intuitive eating, individually and/or collectively:

It’s not about new rules, or doesn’t have to be. Try things and see what works for you. keep what works and let go of what doesn’t.

sometimes people can get weirdly intense about intentional weight loss being bad. Is it counterproductive in the long run? Sure. Do people get to choose what they do with their own bodies? Yes. Is fatphobia primarily perpetuated via iwl? No. It’s primarily perpetuated in other ways: workplace discrimination, medical discrimination, media portrayals and harmful stereotypes, government anti obesity campaigns that lean hard on fat shaming, etc.

half-assing it is not necessarily going to go great, in the sense that if you decide to try this approach and then bail the moment the number on the scale goes up that’s not going to go well. Like yeah my first point still stands, but I mean working for you in a weight neutral way. Yeah your weight might go up. Either find a way to make peace with that or you are not ready for a weight neutral approach to health. Intuitive eating is not a way to trick yourself into losing more weight, it’s a way to relate to food that is not at all about trying to lose weight or avoid gaining weight. (Some people do lose weight or stay the same weight with this stuff. Lots of people don’t. It’s better to come into it without expectations/being prepared for a “worse” outcome weight wise.)

can you eat all the brownies you want? Sure. If you’ve haven’t given yourself permission to eat an entire tray of brownies recently, you might be surprised how quickly you realize you don’t want any more.

if you are the sort of person who will literally eat an entire tray of brownies, and you feel miserable and out of control the entire time, you probably want professional help through the process rather than DIY-ing it. Likewise if you already know you have an eating disorder. No shame. Some people have some stuff to work through around food, it happens.

If you are the sort of person who loses interest in the brownies before eating the entire tray, don’t sweat it if you eat more brownies than you think you should. Do you physically feel bad after? That’s useful information going forwards. Do you think you would have felt as satisfied if you’d stopped at one brownie? Try that at some point and see what happens. But part of IE is in fact you do have blanket permission to eat brownies, you don’t have to justify it.

people eat food for reasons other than hunger. This is ok and not a thing you have to overcome. If you’re stopping when you’re satisfied most of the time, it’ll work. Doesn’t need to be 100% and you don’t have to opt out of social/cultural thingeys.

However, it’s worth considering whether you want to eat for reasons other than hunger. Sometimes a thing looks like it tastes good but then kinda tastes like poster boards. Sometimes people get caught up on the idea of not wasting food, which is a good general goal but it’s worth questioning whether eating food you aren’t enjoying is in fact not wasting it. Maybe the best way to not waste food is to learn you didn’t like this food or didn’t want this much of it and modify your behaviors going forwards. Not wanting to hurt someone’s feelings by not eating a lot of their food: probably not a huge deal now and then, but it can be good to practice how to show concern for a loved one’s feelings in ways other than finishing what’s on your plate, especially if this happens a lot.

as mentioned in previous post: hunger is usually more subtle than being ravenous and fullness is generally more subtle than feeling stuffed to the gills, it’s ok/good to take a guess at whether you’re hungry/full and see what happens. Does eating one cracker make you want to eat more? Probably you were hungry. Does stopping eating now make you hungry again in two hours? Maybe you weren’t full. Try things and see what happens. (Sometimes you can be done with one particular type of food but want a different type. This is ok. Different types of foods serve different roles.)

likewise IE is perfectly compatible with regularly scheduled meal times. Chances are being a tiny bit hungry is a state you can exist in for some time before urgently needing to eat and you get to decide when in that period you’re going to eat. If you’re starving, eat, but also make a note for yourself that you probably should have had a scheduled eating time before you got to the point where you felt ravenous.

don’t eat food you don’t want to eat. Seriously. Not even if it’s vegetables. Refraining from eating healthy food that doesn’t appeal is good practice and in the long run better for you than practicing eating food that you don’t really want.

[teenyweenyeenymeeny]

I know u csn obviously tell who this is ;3 but who in ur opinion is the most to least CG coded of the phantom thieves im very interested to see what u think bc i cant decide

WELL you have definitely come to the expert. ough this will b difficult though. this will be. Biased especially since it has been soooso long since I actually played the game

Number one ummm Haru 🥺 mostly because of nepotism I will not deny that… but waaa mommymommymommy just imagine having tea parties with her… she would have lovely stuffed animals that she would let you cuddle all you want… even though she was the type of kid to keep her toys so neat and tidy you’d think they are brand new even now so maybe you would b worried about messing them up but she would not mind! she knows how to wash them without damaging them if they are properly messy and if they are just getting to look “well loved” she thinks that is sweet!! oughhhgh imagine wearing the sweetest little outfits she picks out for you… I love her sooo much waaa

Number two… is Makoto probably! She is more obvious I think than Haru? Because Makoto is the responsible one! She’s mama friend! She is good at planning and making sure everything goes well! Like she will make sure she always has some of your baby things with her even if you are big Just In Case and she prepares cute lunchboxes! You can go on picnics nd stuff with her or maybe they are for school :0 nd also. Buchimaru. Friend to you both. I like it when cgs like cute things as well 🤍

Number three is Ann iii am trying so hard to not be too biased I would put her higher if I let myself be more biased. She just ouuughg waaa she is so sweet 🥺 I’m SO sorry that I can’t have a coherent thought about her. Mmmmm sharing lots of desserts! Spoil. Each Other >:) even though uh oh sometimes you end up with tummy aches together also </3 cuddle all better 🥺 nd mmmm Ann does dress up with you waaa she is good at. Fashion so you know when she says you look soso cute then t means a lot!!

Number four is Ryuji ough he’s like. Big brother most EVER he deserves to be in a rank together with Ann I think together they r like. Cool big brother and sister who let you join in on their big kid games but r soso patient with you if you don’t get them. SO so sorry to Ryuji to not say as much about him as th girls I promise I lovlovlov him it is just. Hard to Organise My Thoughts the longer I spend writing this hdkdjdjd I like him so much

Number five is Yusuke ough he does. Arts and crafts with you mainly like ough wht f he draws a picture and then you colour it in… obviously fingerpainting. Nd mmm he can paint your face like your favourite animal if you want! You make a picture for him and he goes oh your attention to detail is exquisite little one and then he puts it somewhere special 🤍 he doesn’t put on a baby voice for you at all he doesn’t get the appeal

Number six is Akira I’m SORRY the only reason he is so far down is because he’s way more baby to me 🥺 I know this is not a cg → baby ranking but. It Does have an effect on his ranking. Although just a teeny one because if I didn’t have to give them all their own numbers they would all be number one 🥺 mmm he is good at caregiving but not a caregiver you know. Like he is. Thoughtful and kind and lovely but he’s also just a baby it is like a little kid with a hamster like… yes he is so good at taking care of it but maybe don’t leave him unsupervised for too long. You know. Like especially if you are doing something fun while little he will start to feel little as well 🤍

Number seven is Morgana I’m sorry but he is. Kitty adjacent. He cares for you as much as a kitty can!! He can cuddle with you and be a weight on your chest and nuzzle into you but he cannot make a bottle or be cuddled INTO or help you get ready for bed. He tries his best though 🥺

Number eight is Futaba I’m SO SORRY I like her SO MUCH and she is not BAD at caregiving she is like Akira… she is lovely at caregiving she just needs to also be reassured throughout or she would worry she is doing it wrong 🥺 she regresses too but like. Not quite baby she is like tween and perhaps then is when she does best with littler regressors cuz she can feel like a cool big sister and show off all her cool stuff

Number nine is Akechi. I’m sorry except I am not because this guy is the only person I am confident on the placement of. He is either the fussiest grumpiest baby or he is easily irritated by kids. If he is trying to take care of someone he would not SHOW that but. You know

Sorry to Sumire enjoyers. I do not remember her well and I don’t think it would be fair to her to rank her

#baby’s first ask 🥺 #🖍️ #📝 #🪴 #🐼 #🍰 #🍜 #🎨 #🃏 #🐈‍⬛ #🎮 #persona 5 age regression #persona 5 agere #persona 5 #persona #haru okumura #makoto niijima #ann takamaki #ryuji sakamoto #yusuke kitagawa #akira kurusu #persona 5 morgana #futaba sakura #fandom regression #fandom agere #fandom age regression #agere #sfw agere #sfw age regression #ask

[ruhorih4ra]

We go back to past! So much angst, I love it. ( ˘ ³˘)♥

This fic contains:

The same things that the previous parts.

Grammar mistakes (╥﹏╥)

Gn!Mc

"Black🐑" and "👿Red" JAJAJA

Chapter 4. ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ

Chapter 5 [Past]

"The voice from the Attic"

"How long has it been?"

You hummed while drinking a black coffee. Something in your demeanor had change, you felt more...angry? You kept repeating Belphegor's attempt to murder you and everytime, you would break something, a pen, a mug, whatever was on your hand at the moment.

Someone knocked the door but you didn’t answer, you merely waited for the person to walk away.

"Mc?"

You remained silent. Lately, you could recall every single bad memory of the brothers, Lucifer was not an exception.

"Hypocrite bastard"

He broke the lock, entering with a confused face.

"Why didn't you answer? What's wrong with you?"

"...I didn't hear you."

"Are you... Is everything alright?"

"I should be the one asking that."

"We... Yes, the situation is controlled."

You smiled. "Liar"

"My brothers are preparing everything on the house of lamentation. Are you ready?" He said, offering his hand.

You stayed still looking to his hand.

"Do you remember that time when you nearly broke my hand while we were dancing?" You asked, still watching Lucifer's hand. "It hurt for days."

Lucifer tensed, confused and ashamed.

"...you're angry. I understand you wanted to help but we couldn't possible put you on danger."

You laughed.

"Do you remember it? It happened, you know. You have quite the talent of forgetting."

Lucifer frowned and was about to say something when Lord Diavolo walked through the door, your gaze still on Lucifer.

"Mc!! It's been some time! How are you?!"

"Perfectly fine! How about you, my lord?"

"Mc, you don't have to be so formal. We're great! Let's go, everyone is waiting."

He offered you his arm and you took it, knowing that Lucifer would notice. You wanted him to suffer in any way but what is better than continually hurting his pride.

"I feel better now, Diavolo."

You said in a overly shy tone.

***

"Surprise!!"

A collective scream was heard, it was nothing too fancy and, truth be told, everyone looked tired. You smiled, it was comforting to see how screwed they were, how utterly weak and...

"Mc!! I'm back too!!"

A young and very happy angel said, hugging you and sending a chill all over your body, as if you were allergic to his presence. You felt a heavy weight leaving your chest, regainig some control.

"Luke!! Oh, I missed you!!"

You hugged him back, smiling.

"Oh! That's not fair!! Is it because my skin?! Why didn't you hugged me like that?" Asmo pouted.

"I just arrived, Asmo. Come here."

You said, hugging him and putting a quick kiss on his forehead.

"I missed you guys, I apreciate your effort doing this welcoming but you look tired. You should rest."

Beelzebub gave you a bear hug, murmuring a quiet 'thank you'.

"You are welcome, Beel." You said, laughing.

"Mc, let's take a nap together..."

Your blood froze and you could feel rage fogging your mind. The youngest of them all was clinging to you, half asleep.

"Kill him, he deserves it."

You reached for a strand of hair, carefully taking one from the bunch between your fingers. You were ready to pull as hard as you could when Mammon took your hand.

"Hey! Don't get too close with him! You should stay with me instead! I'm on charge of taking care of ya!"

You felt a gaze, Satan was looking at you with confusion.

"Are you tired, Mc?"

The room grew silent until you sighed.

"Uh, yes. I'm kind of sick, I didn't want to worry you!"

"Mc, you should have told me! We should do an anime maraton, I-I can take care of you like you know a..."

"Levi, you look incredibly tired, we'll probably fall asleep as we watch it."

"I guess you're right."

He said, visibly disappointed. You took his hand, smiling.

"But we can give it a try."

"YES!"

"Hey! I'm joining!"

"Shut up, Mammon, we're all joinning" Satan said.

"Hahaha! Happy as ever, don’t they? Then We'll be taking our leave. Have a nice night, Mc."

"Thank you, Diavolo."

Barbatos looked at you with a stern glance, you couldn't decide if It was worry or anger, maybe a mix of both, something was clear, he was confused.

"Mc, we’re leaving too! Don't Let those demons take advantage of you!"

"I won't Luke, thanks for coming!"

"You can count on us, Mc, always."

Simeon said and Solomon nodded gesturing a ‘good night’.

"I know guys, thank you. Good night!"

You saw the brothers from some distance, apparently trying to get Lucifer to watch anime too. You remembered what you said before and felt remorse.

"Where was this feeling before, uh?"

The more you thought about it, the more guilty you felt. To be fair you didn't say anything false, he never acknowledge the things he did but you're closer now and maybe that was too blunt of you.

"Maybe don't befriend those who try to kill you, they feast on your kindness"

Lately your thoughts don´t feel like your own. You walked straight to Lucifer, taking his arm.

"I-I'm sorry for what I said before... I don't know why I brought out that but please forgive me!" You said without meeting his eyes.

You heard him sigh, he took your chin and lifted it up so you could see his eyes.

"We'll talk about that later. Now, let's rest..." Everyone looked at him with puppy eyes. "Watching some...ugh, Anime."

***

You couldn't sleep, everyone was peaceful sleeping but you. Mammon was clinging to your waist as well as Levi, you removed their grip as careful as you could.

"Someone…anyone, please…"

You tensed immediately, it was Belphegor's voice but he was sleeping, you saw him laying next to Beel and his mouth was firmly shut.

"Come…this way, Mc."

You knew what was happening but you followed the voice anyway, you walked in silent avoiding the utterly tired brothers, you went up the stairs until you arrived to the attic.

"I knew you were the one person who’d be able to find me."

Your fist conversation was playing again, you gulped.

"I’m a human, just like you."

"You are Belphegor, the Avatar of sloth, you're a demon."

"Right, you caught me."

"You lied to me."

"I didn't lie when I told you that I want to fix things with Lucifer."

"Oh but you did lie. Why?! I just wanted to help!!"

"You're so naive, come on, open the door and give me a hug. You know what comes next..."

"No..."

But it was futile, the door opened and you entered the attic, standing in front of him.

"Oh Mc, you’ve set me free! You’ve released me from this prison!"

"No, please... stop this, I can’t."

Belphegor opened his arms to hug you.

"What, you don’t want to hug?"

You felt sicker and sicker with each passing minute. You were shaking and air was hard to breathe.

"Hehe, well…that’s not very friendly of you."

Belphegor's moved fast enough to cage you, his hands choking your neck, taking the air from you.

"Does it hurt? Finding it hard to breath? I’m sure it must be very unpleasant."

"Are you gonna let him do that... Again?" Astazath spoke. The pale demon had a serious expression and his eyes were glowing with hatred. "How many times are you willing to die?"

"Not ever again." you said.

You felt your arms strengthen with power, you took away one of the the hands holding your neck and threw a fist to the demon face. You saw Belphegor's face turn to one of surprise and horror. You punched him again without him putting resistance, and when he was laying in the floor you took his neck with both hands, squeezing as hard as you could. Your nails digging into his skin and spilling blood in your fingers.

"Mc..." Belphegor tried to speak.

"Kill him, human. Before he kills you."

"MC, STOP!!!!!!"

You felt someone pushing you away.

"Belphie?! Belphie!!"

Belphegor coughed, trying to ease the pain in his throat. And just as he did that you finally understood, it wasn't an ilusion, you... You tried to kill Belphegor. Your eyes grow wide, still on the floor you backed until your back was hitting the wall.

"I'm fine, Beel, don't worry."

You quickly got up and ran to the exit, Beel was too shocked and confused to do anything but as you were rushing to your room Mammon appeared, blocking your way.

"Mc? I heard Beel screaming... What's wrong?" His gaze fell down to your fingers covered in blood, but he was quick to recognize that it wasn't yours.

"I-I don't know... I just..."

"Mc calm down, okay? Come here."

You were afraid, afraid of them and you. The sensation of Belphie's neck on your hands, you were so close to finishing him off.

"Mc? S-stop smiling like that..."

"What? I wasn't."

"MC!" The Avatar of sloth screamed, trying to reach you.

"NO!! STAY AWAY FROM ME!"

The pact did its work and Belphegor stopped in his tracks. One by one the brothers appeared, Lucifer was the last.

"What's happening here?" The eldest questioned.

You were afraid, ashamed, intoxicated.

"Mc had a nightmare. They accidentally hit me."

You watched Belphegor nonchalantly lie. Beelzebub was looking at you with caution, a mix of sadness and confusion.

"Those marks in your neck are more than a hit."Satan said.

"They were sleepwalking."

Everyone looked at you, waiting for an explanation.

"I… I heard Belphie's voice, like the first time... And I..."

"Like the first time?" Asmodeus softly asked.

"I tried to kill him because he kill me before and I am too weak to forgive him" that's what you wanted to say but couldn't bring yourself to.

"I understand, Mc."

Belphie said, tears forming in his eyes.

"You don't." You yelled. "You don't because I didn't succeed."

"Why? Why did I said that?", "Because it's the truth."

You ran to your room and nobody chased after you, not knowing what to do or say.

Next part. ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ

#obey me fanfic #obey me #obey me mc #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #obey me solomon #obey me lucifer #obey me gn!reader #obey me beelzebub #obey me Satan #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Luke #obey me angst

[violetueur-archive]

GRAVE SUGGESTIONS ASK MEME » ACCEPTING

@kunokata​ asked:  ‘  some days it’s easier to just stop fighting it  &  succumb.  ’ + ‘  sometimes,  you’ll find it hard to keep going,  but you always will.  ’ ( mmmm pain- )

It’s an unexpectedly heavy sentiment, coming from the flame hashira himself ( someone she, admittedly, admires ) and Nicolette does not take for granted the way it sounds like a confession, almost. He seems to be speaking from experience, and her heart breaks for him. ❝ Are you sure you’re talking about me? ❞ It’s her best attempt at turning the attention back on him, but he does not bite. He leaves her no room to escape, as the words are not said for his sake— they are said for hers, and that only makes her wish to turn away and refuse them. She cannot stand the way they cling to her, or the knowing look in his wide eyes that says ❛ I understand ❜, because he doesn’t. How can he? 

People love him. People ADORE him. He’s the man that puts everyone at ease just by breathing. He’s had parents that cherished him, and family that he can still turn to. He’s not alone. Not like she is. Has Kyojuro ever felt so unwanted, so utterly worthless, as she has? Has he ever had to come face to face with the realization that any care for his wellbeing comes from his position as a demon slayer, and nothing more? Has he had to fight tooth and nail from adolescence just for the opportunity to live? The blood on her hands remains, the only evidence of the first choice she every truly made for herself— perhaps it was the only one. Even that decision to go to Final Selection, wasn’t truly her own. Fighting and killing demons, that was never her choice, yet it was the only thing she knew how to do, in the end.

How could he understand any of that?

So much of her life has been filled with pain. Nicolette thought for a long time that it was undeserved, but maybe she was wrong. Maybe she was meant to be hurt. She’s a bad person, isn’t she? Even now, she’s thinking such awful, cruel things about a man who has been nothing but good and kind to her. To everyone. All at his own expense. What does she even know about him, really? He’s as much of an enigma as she is, and yet it’s so easy to assume she understands him, just because he wears a kind smile so easily. She doesn’t. She doesn’t know him at all... she doesn’t even know herself.

❝ I don’t know... ❞ It’s a whisper, one she doesn’t even realize is coming from her own lips until she speaks again, ❝ I don’t know if I can. ❞ It hurt so much. This loneliness. This anger. She’s exhausted, frankly, but how can she say any of that to someone whos’ working twice as hard? He’s not broken like her, is he? He knows how to love others, and how to be loved, in return. He’s the man with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and yet here she is, ready to crumble of the weight of her own worthlessness. She’s weak, isn’t she? No matter how hard she works, how strong she gets, she’s only human, at the end of the day.

She wants to be loved. She wants to be cherished. She wants to be held. She wants to be comforted. But she doesn’t know how to accept it.

Isn’t that pathetic? 

❝ It’s funny... I could have my arm cut off and probably laugh it off without much problem, but— ❞ The wry smile on her face is hallow, and it does not reach her eyes. She cannot meet his gaze, either. ❝ Everything else... it feels fucking impossible to endure. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that, though. ❞ Another attempt to deflect, but it’s not nearly as manipulative as the first time. The bitter understanding with which it is said, is sincere. She wants to tell him she wants to give up. That she’s tired. That it hurts. Yet, the words do not come. Selfish as she is, Nicolette can’t bring herself to seek the comfort she’s so desperate for— not from him. After all, while she might agonize over being alone, Kyojuro suffers from something she will never understand.

He’s the man that saves everyone. The man that everyone looks towards. Always prepared to put on a smile and speak kinds words, if only to put others’ hearts at ease. He does not ask for help. He doesn’t ask to be saved. Maybe in some strange way, he feels alone too. She cannot bear to put the weight of her suffering onto him, as everyone else does, just as he is unlikely to share his burdens with her. She can’t blame him. Why would anyone trust their heart to someone like her, anyway?

❝ I guess it doesn’t really matter, though, does it? People like us... we don’t have the luxury of giving up when it gets tough, do we? There’s no choice but to keep going, so there’s no point in worrying about it, right? ❞

#kunokata #[ UUUUUHHH UMMM FUCK ] #[ I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY ] #[ MORE SAD NICOLETTE INTROSPECTION MY CHEST HURTS SO BAD ] #[ WHAT THE FUCK!!! THEY'RE HURTING ME BRO ] #↳ ASKS ❛ since you’re lookin i’ll put on a fuckin show ❜ #↳ VERSE ; KNY: SLAYER || ❛ every time i break theres just more pain to burn ❜ #long post

[zangyo]

@dayrisen said (inbox):

[ before he returns to be a sorcerer hehehe ] ❛❛ Kento - kun ? ❜❜ To call out to his form, fingers fall forth, seeking 'pon the depth of his shaded suit. Fingers curl, holding him from continuing away. He will surely recognize it is her ; even as she wears this black wig, scattering down the expanse of her spine, nigh 'pon the ground below. Even as every callus & scar is concealed within cosmetics & makeup. Even with the absurdly deeply colored kimono, which matches her not, far from the bright shades she carries. A disguise to hide away her true face during a mission, which has just been finished. Surely, he will know her still ; he has never not known her. She relaxes slightly as she gazes 'pon him, even as his boss turns, drunk by the night of filling drinks ( he was surely forced here, Kento, for he hates overtime & such parties most certainly feel such a way. ) She watches as his boss gives him a grin & a pat before joining his group that scatters away, laughing. She returns her gaze 'pon him ; he looks so tired. Such dark circles ---- she worries if he has lost weight. She swallows softly, she should not keep him long. She, too, is tired beyond measure ( but it's nice, seeing him ; it has been a few months, work has parted them except for texts that she sends, always checking upon him. ) Fingers lift, gently pressing 'pon his cheek, rubbing gently at the dark circles. She hopes they don't ache ( her own do, it's an irritating feast. ) Slowly, she tugs her palm away, stepping back. ❛❛ I thought that was you, hehe. Well, I should let you go. I need to catch the last train, I have a two hour ride home, you know. ❜❜ Warmth dapples among the heart of features, head tilting slowly. ❛❛ I'll cook you something to bring for lunch for a few days, okay ? ❜❜ Something healthy ----- it doesn't matter if she'll lose more sleep to prepare it for him. She'd do anything for his well health. ❛❛ Bye bye. Be safe on your way home, okay ? ❜❜

      TO SAY HE WAS miserable would be an understatement. There was nothing worse than being forced to attend a ‘party’ you held very little interest in. However, though it was not mandatory, as his boss put it, the answer was clear: missing it was not an option. Even if one’s child had a play they wanted their parents to attend, if their boss specifically said you were to be at the bar at this time, most would call this spouse and tell them they wouldn’t make it. Such was simply the way of things, and thus, here he was, sake in hand and attempting to enjoy this unwanted bonding experience with his coworkers. Glad to not be within his boss’s scope of interest at the moment, he lifted his glass to down his third drink for that night when he felt another’s hand touch his own. His fingers twitched, hand near tugging away instinctively. He turned his attention downwards, confusion present within those dark greens until familiarity dawned on him. Was this…Koto? Even wearing that wig, he had known her for far too long to not notice. What in the world was she doing here? Did she work here…? Nanami couldn’t picture her as the type to quit being a sorcerer.

     She loved people too much.

     Cared too much.

     If someone was in danger in front of her, even if ordered to stand down, Koto would have rushed into battle with blade at the ready to save that poor, unfortunate soul. That was merely the kind of person she was. Though he had nearly opened his mouth to speak, for a moment, he had to turn his attention back to his boss. ❝We’re heading off for the night. Make sure you don’t drink too much. Work will be busy tomorrow, after all!❞ He laughed, patting Nanami on the shoulder before taking his leave with the others; just as loud as they were when they had been downing glasses and enjoying their meals. Finally. Peace and quiet…

     Now he can speak.

     ❝I wasn’t aware you worked here. Some part-time job?❞ Seemed ridiculous when he thought about it. Not so much the fact that Koto might want to make more money, but just imagining her wandering about serving drinks to others seemed…odd. Pausing, he was surprised by the mention of food – surprised in general, he supposed, by this…everything. Seeing Koto, being invited to eat – none of this was what he had expected on this night. ❝I wouldn’t want to be a bother, but if you’re offering, I’d accept it.❞ Such would be rude otherwise, after all. Despite how quickly their conversation went, he still watched as she walked away, nostalgia a complicated thing in the complex feelings it brought him then. Still, regardless of that fact, seeing her did lift the cloud that had hovered over him, if only a little. ❝Be safe as well, Koto.❞

#dayrisen #;dayrisen : koto #;v: purify the impure #answered #;;inbox