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thedensworld · 19 days

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Hold on Tight | Y. Jh

Pairing: Jeonghan x reader

Genre: revenge Au, marriage Au, humor, fluff

Summary: What's started for a revenge and status has developed into something Jeonghan couldn't comprehend. He unconsciously were willing to do anything and it was only for you.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Baby you and me are a twisted Fantasy,

Buckle up and take a seat,

Hold on tight.

As the night deepened, their connection intensified beyond mere touch, brimming with an ardent expression of love and desire. Jeonghan pressed you against the wall, a silent invitation for an embrace that intertwined their figures. Lips locked in a fervent union, reluctant to part even for a moment, as if fearing they might miss each other in mere seconds. A symphony of groans escaped their mouths, echoing the passion that surged between them, while wandering hands sought to intensify the fervor of the moment.

Amidst their escalating passion, a sudden ding from the elevator interrupted their reverie, drawing a smile from your lips even as your groans grew louder, mingling with the occasional moans that slipped past your lips. Undeterred by their location in the corridor, their ardor persisted, oblivious to the world around them.

With your eyes fluttering open, you were startled by the sight of a familiar figure standing before the elevator. It was Choi Seungcheol, his jaw clenched and knuckles taut with tension, his unexpected presence injecting a new layer of complexity into the already charged atmosphere.

"Oh my god..." Your voice, tinged with panic, halted Jeonghan's advances, the realization dawning that the two of you were still in the corridor, under Seungcheol's watchful gaze.

"I'm sorry, Seungcheol. We're a bit impatient here," Jeonghan quipped with a nervous chuckle, his playful tone attempting to mask the awkwardness of the situation as he gently tugged your hand, urging you to move quickly.

As Jeonghan guided you into the room, he made sure to exchange a meaningful look with Seungcheol, silently acknowledging the unspoken tension between them before shutting the door with deliberate force, hoping to convey a message without uttering a word.

Inside the sanctuary of the room, you both let out a collective sigh, the tension dissipating into nervous laughter as your eyes met, sharing a moment of relief and amusement amidst the chaos of the interrupted encounter. With a playful slap to Jeonghan's chest, you couldn't contain your laughter, hastily covering your mouth to stifle the sound, realizing the need to maintain the facade of innocence after the earlier escapade.

"That was fun," Jeonghan stated as he stepped into the room, loosening his tie with a satisfied sigh. You mirrored his relief, already heading for the toilet, eager to rid yourself of the constricting gown and hair accessories. As you emerged, your eyes met Jeonghan's through the mirror, a shared sense of amusement dancing between you.

"Did you see his face?" you said with a wide smile, your voice tinged with excitement. Jeonghan nodded, his own grin widening as he recalled the scene they had just orchestrated in the corridor, a playful surprise for his cousin.

Jeonghan joined you in the hotel room's bathroom, his expression a mix of curiosity and mild trepidation as he observed his face, still adorned with remnants of the powder and makeup from earlier in the day. Sensing his discomfort, you offered him a makeup wipe, showing him how to use it by gently swiping it across his skin, revealing the amount of makeup it effortlessly erased.

"Women use this every day?" he asked, his interest piqued by the simplicity and effectiveness of the wipes.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "More than twice a day," you added, amused by his newfound fascination with the world of makeup.

"Should I start entering the makeup industry? You could help me," Jeonghan suggested seriously, his tone betraying a hint of genuine interest. You rolled your eyes affectionately, realizing that even after months of knowing him, you were still discovering new facets of Jeonghan's personality. His workaholic ass.

"You should rest your mind and have a nice break. Your mom's concerned a lot about you being a workaholic and all," you sighed, your gaze piercing through the mirror, reflecting your genuine worry for him.

Jeonghan scoffed, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Don't be bothered by her," he said dismissively, "she still loves it every time I'm home with branded stuff for her."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his nonchalant attitude towards his mother's concerns, knowing deep down that his family's love and support were constants in his life, even amidst his hectic schedule.

"And also," he paused, his expression turning serious, "I have to support you now. I must work harder."

Your brows furrowed in protest as you insisted, "You don't have to support me," your arms crossed defensively over your chest, a hint of stubbornness in your stance.

Jeonghan, however, refused to let your words slide. Gripping your elbow gently, he pulled you to stand in front of him, his fingers deftly finding the zipper of your dress. Remembering how you had mentioned earlier that it made you feel suffocated, he began to unzip it, silently offering you relief from the discomfort.

You thanked him softly, but your eyes remained fixed on his through the mirror, silently demanding an answer to your earlier statement. Caught in your gaze, Jeonghan sighed, his own eyes reflecting a mix of frustration, knowing that despite your insistence, he couldn't help but feel responsible for looking out for you.

"It's written in our contract. I'm a businessman, Y/n. I do everything written on the paper," Jeonghan stated matter-of-factly, his tone carrying a hint of resignation as he adhered to the terms laid out in their agreement.

You smirked, feeling a sense of satisfaction as you released yourself from the confines of the gown, opting instead for the comfort of a tight tank top and knee-length leggings. "Sounds like slavery," you mumbled under your breath, a touch of humor lacing your words as you sauntered out of the bathroom, leaving Jeonghan behind.

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Jeonghan called out to you, "Please take a shower before you sleep! I couldn't sleep with the smell of sweat disturbing me."

You chuckled at his request, knowing all too well his aversion to unpleasant odors. "I'll take the left side!" you shouted back, a playful reminder of the arrangement they had settled on for sharing the bed.

You and Mingyu were having breakfast, enjoying a delicious meal prepared by Jeonghan's personal cook. You doubted whether Jeonghan had ever tasted his own food, as you had never seen him join you at the dinner table. One detail both you and Jeonghan seemed to overlook was the fact that Mingyu lived with him, completely unaware of the contract you and Jeonghan had orchestrated. Mingyu believed his uncle and his teacher had fallen in love quickly and decided to tie the knot, a story resembling a fairy tale. He remained oblivious to the true nature of your relationship—a contract marriage veiled behind the facade of romance.

According to the contract, circumstances dictated that both of you share the same room. Surprisingly, neither of you harbored any aversion to this arrangement, having never physically encountered each other in the bedroom. It seemed a matter of timing—either you would already be asleep when Jeonghan retired to bed, or you would awaken to find him still slumbering.

As if summoned by your thoughts, Jeonghan burst into the dining room in a flurry, hastily adjusting his tie as he requested coffee from his cook. Your gaze locked with his, and he shot you a questioning look, silently probing for any indication or sign. His demeanor shifted abruptly as he addressed you, his tone cold and indifferent.

"What?" he demanded, his words laced with a hint of hostility, before his gaze flickered to Mingyu, a gentle reminder of their young companion's presence. Softening his tone, he repeated the question, this time with a touch of kindness, though the abrupt change only served to elicit a scoff from you, revealing the underlying hypocrisy of his demeanor.

"Ms. Ji is concerned that you never have breakfast and just drink coffee," Mingyu interjected during his meal, drawing Jeonghan's attention back to you, who was now gracefully eating your salad.

"I'm fine without breakfast," Jeonghan murmured, taking a sip of his coffee as it was served.

"How's your preparation for the province selection?" you inquired, prompting Mingyu's brows to raise in surprise while Jeonghan's curiosity piqued. What province selection? He wondered.

Mingyu nodded eagerly, swallowing a mouthful of food before replying, "It's scheduled for next month. I've been practicing diligently."

Jeonghan, completely unaware of the prior conversation between you and Mingyu, furrowed his brows in confusion. "What selection?" he asked, his curiosity now fully piqued.

"National league's player selection for the province level. I'll be representing Seoul," Mingyu announced proudly, his excitement palpable as he shared his upcoming endeavor with Jeonghan.

Jeonghan's expression softened with pride as he nodded in acknowledgment. "Do you need any assistance while preparing?" he offered, genuine warmth evident in his voice.

Mingyu's face lit up with gratitude at the offer. "Could I have some of the popular energy drink from your company to distribute during practice? I want to show my appreciation to my teammates for helping me train," he asked eagerly, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm.

Jeonghan readily agreed, his pride in Mingyu evident as he made a mental note to discuss the matter with his marketing team. "Just promise me you'll become a national player. I need something to brag about," he quipped with a playful shrug, before taking another sip of his coffee.

As the conversation wound down, you gently reminded Mingyu of the impending school day. "It's time to go to school," you interjected, prompting Mingyu to nod in acknowledgment.

"Alright, Ms. Ji," Mingyu replied obediently, his eagerness to excel both on the field and in his studies shining through in his demeanor.

Jeonghan furrowed his brows in perplexity upon hearing Mingyu refer to you as "Ms. Ji" at home, a subtle but noticeable change in the dynamics that seemed to unsettle him. Sensing his unease, you glanced at him, silently questioning the source of his discomfort.

"Because she's Ms. Ji, my teacher," Mingyu reasoned innocently, unaware of the implications of his words.

Jeonghan shook his head, his tone firm as he interjected, "But she's my wife now." His declaration hung in the air, a definitive statement of the new roles and relationships within the household.

Confusion clouded Mingyu's features as he sought clarification. "So... what should I call her?" he asked, his gaze shifting to you for guidance.

You shrugged helplessly, indicating that you were equally uncertain about the appropriate address in this unfamiliar situation.

Exhaling a sigh, Jeonghan attempted to resolve the matter by posing a question of his own. "What do you call the wife of your uncle?"

"Aunt?" Mingyu ventured tentatively, uncertainty coloring his tone.

Jeonghan nodded, a sense of resolution settling over him. "That's it. She's your aunt at home and Ms. Ji at school," he concluded, seeking to establish a clear distinction between the roles you played in Mingyu's life.

Jeonghan had just wrapped up a morning meeting and was on his way to his office when his phone buzzed repeatedly, signaling the arrival of multiple texts. With a quick glance at the screen, he read the messages from you, his lips quirking up into a smile at the familiar name that popped up.

Ji Y/n: Isn't it great catching up with your nephew? Join us for breakfast starting tomorrow.

Ji Y/n: Regarding Mingyu's request earlier, don't forget to follow up with your marketing team. He was really excited about it on our way to school.

Ji Y/n: I'll share some ideas with you later about the makeup industry we discussed weeks ago.

A sense of warmth washed over Jeonghan as he absorbed your messages, each one a gentle reminder of the connections and responsibilities woven into his life. Despite his efforts to maintain a composed demeanor, a smile threatened to break through, betraying the genuine joy sparked by your words.

He quickly suppressed the burgeoning smile as his secretary approached, maintaining a professional facade as he delivered his schedule for the day. Nodding in acknowledgment, he replied, "I'll be occupied in an hour, so if there's anything urgent, please let me know beforehand."

"And..." Jeonghan paused, turning just before entering his office, his mind still buzzing with thoughts of your messages. "Could you speak to the marketing department about supporting the province and national basketball player selection? I believe it would be a worthwhile endeavor. I'll provide you with the details shortly."

His secretary blinked in confusion, not quite grasping the sudden interest in basketball. "Of course, sir," he replied, making a mental note to follow up on the request.

"And," Jeonghan paused once more, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes, "please arrange for a few boxes of our energy drink to be delivered to my house every week."

His secretary's confusion deepened, his brows furrowing slightly as he struggled to comprehend the reason behind the request. "What are those for, sir?" he inquired tentatively, aware of her boss's recent marriage but uncertain of the significance of the energy drink deliveries.

Jeonghan smirked, a playful twinkle in his eyes. "You'll find out," he teased cryptically before disappearing into his office, leaving his secretary perplexed and intrigued by the request.

Days later, you mustered the courage to walk yourself to the nursery room where your father often spent his afternoons. As you pushed the door open, your heart sank at the scene before you. Seungcheol, seated across from your father, engaged in a game of chess. Both men turned their heads toward you, but it was Seungcheol who held your gaze, your eyes burning with disdain. Hate simmered beneath the surface, threatening to consume you as you struggled to maintain composure.

"My princess! Come join us, Seungcheol came to say hi," your father exclaimed cheerfully, oblivious to the tension in the room.

You entered hesitantly, closing the door behind you with a heavy sigh. The weight of your emotions pressed down on you as you dropped your bag onto the couch, arms crossing defensively over your chest. With narrowed eyes, you fixed your stare on Seungcheol, daring him to answer your unspoken question.

"Why are you here?" your voice cut through the silence, sharp and accusatory, each word dripping with disdain.

Your father rose from his seat, his expression a mixture of concern and disappointment as he watched you treat Seungcheol with such coldness. "How could you say that to your husband? I'm so sorry, my son-in-law," he apologized, his voice tinged with regret.

Frustration boiled within you as your father continued to misunderstand the situation. With a weary sigh, you attempted to interject, but Seungcheol spoke first. "The hospital called me. They said your father was looking for me," he explained, his tone soft yet determined.

You opened your eyes, gazing at Seungcheol with a mix of doubt and resignation. Releasing a heavy breath, you knew there were matters that needed addressing, away from prying eyes. "Let's talk outside," you requested, your voice tinged with weariness.

Turning to your father, you gently guided him towards his bed, the weight of the situation settling heavily upon your shoulders. "Father, Seungcheol and I need a few minutes to talk. Rest for a bit, okay?" you reassured him, though a hint of sadness lingered in your tone.

A small pout formed on your father's face as he reluctantly acquiesced. "Don't take him too long. I was having fun playing chess," he mumbled, a note of disappointment evident in his voice as he settled onto the bed.

As you stepped out of the room, Seungcheol trailing behind you, you halted and turned to face him, your expression guarded. "You should go," you stated firmly, your voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and apprehension.

Seungcheol shook his head, his gaze searching yours intently. "What is it, Y/n? I deserve an explanation," he insisted, his tone gentle yet resolute.

Frustration etched across your features as you crossed your arms tightly over your chest. "You don't hear anything and you don't see anything. You should go," you repeated, your voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

Seungcheol's brows furrowed in confusion. "The hospital called me, saying that your father was looking for me. I didn't even know he had been here until an hour ago," he revealed, his voice laced with concern.

The weight of unexpected revelations crashed over you, leaving you feeling overwhelmed and unprepared. You bit your lip, grappling with the tumultuous emotions swirling inside you. Seungcheol tilted his head, sensing your unease. "What's wrong?" he inquired softly, his eyes searching yours for answers.

Unable to articulate the turmoil in your heart, you shook your head, urging him to leave once more, the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a heavy burden.

"I'll tell you later once the situation is settled, now you should—" Before you could finish your sentence, the shrill sound of the emergency alarm pierced the air, sending a wave of panic through the hospital corridors. Nurses and doctors hurried past, their urgent footsteps echoing off the walls as they raced to the room next to where your father lay.

Caught in the midst of the chaos, you found yourself standing frozen in the middle of the hallway, uncertainty gripping your heart. Without hesitation, Seungcheol reached out and pulled you close, his strong arm wrapping protectively around your back, shielding you from the rush of bodies surging past.

His proximity was unnerving, yet strangely comforting, his familiar scent mingling with the sterile hospital air. You instinctively tried to pull away, but Seungcheol held you firmly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

"Is something happening to your father... that I don't know about?" he asked softly, his voice laced with genuine concern. In that moment, his vulnerability mirrored your own, and you found yourself grappling with the weight of unspoken fears and unanswered questions.

"Ms. Ji?" A voice called out, breaking the tension between you and Seungcheol. Both of you turned as one of the nurses approached, her tone urgent yet professional. "Glad that you came today. I need you to sign some papers before we do an x-ray before the surgery this Monday. Please follow me to the station," she instructed briskly, her eyes scanning the bustling corridor.

You nodded in acknowledgment, torn between the pressing matters at hand and the lingering presence of Seungcheol. With a fleeting glance in his direction, you made a silent decision. "You should go," you murmured softly, your voice barely audible above the din of the hospital.

As you walked away, leaving Seungcheol standing there, a whirlwind of emotions threatened to engulf you. The weight of the revelation about your father, coupled with the strain of keeping up appearances, weighed heavily on your mind. And in that moment of solitude, you found yourself grappling with the tangled web of secrets and uncertainties that had suddenly come crashing down around you.

Jeonghan stepped into his house, a faint smile gracing his lips. The weight of the day seemed to lift from his shoulders as he remembered the promising news his secretary had relayed about the impending board meeting. The possibility of finally being positioned above Seungcheol after the recent wedding buoyed his spirits, each step echoing with newfound hope.

However, his optimism faltered as he caught sight of your figure perched on a barstool at the kitchen island. His brow furrowed at the sight of the whiskey bottle on the counter, his heart sinking as he noticed the glass in your hand. This wasn't the first time he had found you in such a state, but seeing you intoxicated stirred a mixture of concern and frustration within him.

He approached you cautiously, his footsteps slowing as he took in your flushed cheeks and the vacant expression on your face. It was clear you had been drinking heavily, and the realization only deepened his worry. Jeonghan's mind raced with questions, wondering what had led you to seek solace in alcohol once more. The weight of the situation settled heavily on his shoulders, overshadowing the glimmer of hope he had carried moments before.

Jeonghan loosened his tie and approached you, concern evident in his eyes. "Bad day?" he murmured softly as he settled onto the adjacent barstool.

Turning your head toward him, you managed a bitter smile before placing your glass down on the counter, your movements sluggish from the effects of the alcohol. Stretching your arms, you let out a weary sigh. "Where's Mingyu? He's not home?"

You nodded, your words tinged with fatigue. "He has early practice every weekend, so he usually sleeps at the center," you informed him, the weariness evident in your voice not escaping Jeonghan's notice.

Jeonghan motioned toward your glass with a playful glint in his eyes. "Don't want to invite me?" he teased lightly, knowing full well he wouldn't indulge, especially with an important meeting looming the next morning. His playful remark was a subtle attempt to lighten the mood, to distract you momentarily from the weight on your shoulders.

Shaking your head, you mustered a small smile. "I'm done anyway," you replied softly before pushing yourself up from the stool. As you made your way toward the bedroom, your steps were unsteady, and you ended up bumping into the dining table. In an instant, Jeonghan was by your side, his arms wrapping around your waist to steady you.

With an amused yet gentle smile, he guided your drunken figure toward the stairs, offering support as you ascended together toward your shared bedroom.

He gently laid you down on the bed, listening to your unintelligible murmurs with a furrowed brow. "Sleep, Y/n," he urged softly, hoping to coax you into rest despite your resistance.

"No!" you protested weakly, your voice slurred with exhaustion.

As he began to tuck the comforter around your body, Jeonghan paused at your sudden revelation. "Seungcheol met my father..." you trailed off, your words laden with a mix of confusion and amusement.

"Did he?" Jeonghan inquired, his interest piqued as he waited for you to continue.

You nodded slowly, your eyelids drooping with fatigue. "My father asked nurses to call him, thinking that Seungcheol is my husband," you explained, a soft chuckle escaping your lips.

Jeonghan observed you closely, noting the effort you were making to stay awake despite the overwhelming urge to sleep. A fond smile tugged at his lips as he watched you pout and sigh, shifting your body to face him.

"He doesn't know anything about my father's condition," you continued, your words coming out in a sleepy haze. Jeonghan nodded in understanding, recalling the conversation from their wedding day.

"However, his mother came to me two years ago though, offering money for my father's surgery. With the condition that I have to leave Seungcheol. Very funny!" you chuckled again, but this time Jeonghan's expression darkened with concern at the revelation.

The weight of your words settled heavily on his shoulders, a mixture of empathy and anger coursing through him as he processed the gravity of the situation.

Seungcheol's mother was trying to bribe you?

"Is that why you left him?" Jeonghan questioned gently, his gaze meeting yours as you suddenly opened your eyes. Before he could register your response, your hand flew to punch his thigh as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"He left me, you asshole!" The words stung, a reminder of the pain you had endured.

Jeonghan sighed, reaching out to pull the comforter tighter around your body as you shifted into a more comfortable position. "Is that why you had so much debt? You paid for his surgery with all of it?" he asked, his tone laced with concern.

Another punch landed on his thigh, and he winced slightly. "Leave me and my financial issues alone!" you snapped, your frustration evident.

Jeonghan couldn't help but smile at your feistiness, even in your tired state. Playfully, he tugged at the comforter before speaking softly, "Sleep, Y/n. Let's talk later."

"Same goes for you. Sleep," you retorted, your eyes drifting closed once more as exhaustion claimed you.

With a tender smile, Jeonghan watched over you for a moment longer before quietly slipping out of the room, leaving you to rest peacefully.

Jeonghan sat in his home office, the weight of the revelation swirling in his mind like a tempest. Two years ago, tragedy had struck your family, leaving your parents and uncle in an accident that claimed the lives of your mother and uncle. Your father had endured numerous surgeries in order to reclaim a semblance of normalcy in his life.

As he mulled over the details, Jeonghan couldn't help but consider the implications of Seungcheol's departure. The offer of financial assistance from Seungcheol's mother, coupled with the request for you to leave Seungcheol, painted a troubling picture. Yet, the fact remained that it was Seungcheol who had ultimately chosen to end the relationship, leaving behind a whirlwind of unanswered questions.

Jeonghan sighed heavily, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. Despite his efforts to refocus on the task at hand, his mind kept drifting back to you and the weight of your words echoing in his head. Your gentle reminders to prioritize rest and balance in life resonated with him, especially as he grappled with the toll that his demanding schedule was taking on his health.

Glancing at the report laid out before him, Jeonghan felt a pang of guilt for neglecting your advice. It was his habit to meticulously review documents ahead of time, yet tonight, his thoughts were consumed by thoughts of you and the need for a reprieve from his relentless workload.

With a resigned sigh, Jeonghan made a silent decision to heed your wisdom. Pushing the report aside, he rose from his chair, intent on joining you in bed. It was time to prioritize his well-being and find a better balance between work and life, before the weight of his responsibilities crushed him under their burden.

The board meeting concluded with a sense of accomplishment for Jeonghan, as his aspirations had been acknowledged and discussed. As the potential leader, he felt a surge of validation, especially since his concerns about Seungcheol were taken seriously, prompting the board to reconsider their choices. However, amidst the professional triumph, a familial encounter awaited.

Standing alongside Seungcheol, Jeonghan respectfully bowed as his grandfather passed by, a gesture that held both reverence and a hint of tension. His grandfather's inquiry about Ji Kyungyi, your father-in-law, shifted the atmosphere, injecting a dose of personal concern into the formal setting.

Reflecting on the family dinner preceding the wedding, where you were introduced to his grandfather under strained circumstances, Jeonghan couldn't shake the memory. Despite the facade of formality, he knew the truth: you and his grandfather were already acquainted, your past engagement to Seungcheol adding layers of complexity to the situation.

The unease simmered beneath the surface as his grandfather's inquiry hinted at deeper familial rifts and unresolved tensions. Jeonghan's instincts had warned him of this possibility, recognizing the potential for misunderstandings fueled by Seungcheol's parents' influence post-separation.

"Actually, grandfather," Jeonghan began, his tone carrying a weight of revelation, "Y/n's father has a history with you." With a deep breath, he prepared to play a card he had been holding close.

"Y/n's grandfather, Hwang Daekhwi, was your best friend," Jeonghan continued, his words poised to unravel the tightly woven threads of the past, "and her father, Ji Kyungyi, was one of the investors in your first-ever resort project. Do you remember?"

The truth hung heavy in the air, casting a new light on the dynamics at play. Your familial ties to his grandfather's past endeavors unveiled a deeper connection, one that had remained obscured until now. The accident two years ago, a seismic event that reshaped your family's fortunes, added another layer of complexity to the narrative. The loss of your rightful inheritance, coupled with the struggle to navigate the unforgiving terrain of the business world, painted a picture of resilience in the face of adversity.

Jeonghan watched as his grandfather's expression shifted, the realization dawning upon him like a sudden revelation. The lines of recognition etched themselves onto his features, mingling with a newfound sense of empathy.

"I'm so sorry for what had happened to you, dear," his grandfather murmured, the words carrying the weight of regret for past oversights.

As the truth settled, Jeonghan seized the moment, recognizing the opportunity for reconciliation and restitution. "That lawyer in your law firm, Hong Joshua, isn't it? You should help her get her rightful place back," he urged, his voice tinged with a mix of determination and compassion. "Please, make yourself at home."

In that moment, amidst the echoes of the past and the promise of a hopeful future, bridges were built, and alliances forged, as the intricacies of familial ties intertwined with the bonds of compassion and understanding.

Since that pivotal moment, Jeonghan felt a newfound confidence coursing through him. He was certain he could navigate this intricate game and emerge victorious.

"He's recovering very well after his surgery, grandfather," Jeonghan relayed the reassuring news about your father's condition to his grandfather. A nod of acknowledgment and a comforting pat on their shoulders followed from the elder gentleman before he departed, leaving Jeonghan and Seungcheol momentarily alone.

Seungcheol's gaze bore into Jeonghan's, a silent invitation to converse away from prying ears. "Let's talk," he proposed, a hint of urgency underlying his words.

Jeonghan glanced at his watch, his excuse at the ready. "I'm afraid I can't," he regretfully replied, though a knowing smirk betrayed his true intentions. It was a subtle game of manipulation, one that Seungcheol was all too familiar with.

"I just want to know about father's condition," Seungcheol clarified his intentions, yet Jeonghan's attention snagged on the word 'father', a subtle jab that didn't escape his notice.

"Bold of you to call MY father-in-law 'father'," Jeonghan teased lightly, his lips quirking into a smirk that danced with mischief.

Undeterred, Seungcheol pressed on, revealing a piece of information that tugged at Jeonghan's curiosity. "I was called by the hospital a week ago. He's been in a nursing home for almost two years," he disclosed, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

Jeonghan absorbed the revelation with a nod of acknowledgment, his expression solemn as he processed the implications. "What happened to him?" Seungcheol's inquiry pierced through the air, laden with a sense of urgency and genuine concern.

With a heavy sigh, Jeonghan met Seungcheol's gaze head-on, his resolve firm. "I'm sorry, but it's not my place to tell you," he asserted, his words tinged with a hint of regret.

Seungcheol's own sigh mirrored Jeonghan's, a shared frustration at the barriers erected between them. "Y/n didn't want to tell me either," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation.

Jeonghan arched an eyebrow, his gaze probing. "Then there must be a reason, mustn't there?" he remarked cryptically before bidding Seungcheol farewell with a wave, leaving the weight of unspoken truths lingering in the air between them.

Jeonghan had made a mental note to visit your father after his meeting, realizing he hadn't spent much time playing chess with him lately. The obligation to care for their respective families was written in the contract, a duty he took seriously. Ensuring your father received the best treatment for his health was a priority for Jeonghan, a testament to his commitment to family.

While Jeonghan attended to familial responsibilities, you lent your support by focusing on Mingyu and his adolescent struggles. Your efforts in guiding Mingyu through his high school years had yielded noticeable progress, with his behavior towards Jeonghan showing marked improvement. The absence of a mother figure in Mingyu's life had left him craving attention, a void you filled admirably.

Jeonghan couldn't help but feel grateful for your competence in handling Mingyu's upbringing. Your dedication to nurturing his growth was evident, and Jeonghan found solace in knowing that Mingyu was in capable hands.

Amidst familial duties, Jeonghan also juggled professional endeavors alongside Joshua, his lawyer friend. Their collaboration aimed to secure your rightful shares in your grandfather's company, now overseen by the board. It was a challenging task, fraught with obstacles, yet Joshua's expertise offered a glimmer of hope. With their efforts, there was a possibility of securing up to 30% of your rightful shares—a significant victory in the making.

Despite his admiration for your teaching profession, Jeonghan couldn't shake the nagging question of why you hadn't pursued a career in business, following in your parents' footsteps. He saw your potential, creativity, and innovation, yet sensed a hesitation to take risks. Nevertheless, Jeonghan made it clear that he was willing to support any decision you made, even if it meant switching paths to become a businessman.

Reviewing your proposal for the skincare industry—a project he had requested—Jeonghan couldn't help but be impressed by your thoroughness and ingenuity. He teasingly suggested that you join his company instead of continuing as Mingyu's Korean teacher, only to be met with a playful rebuke from you.

"We're all speaking Korean already. Do we really need to bother learning it?" Jeonghan quipped, before being promptly silenced by your playful retort.

You had vented to Jeonghan about the challenges of being a teacher, expressing the exhaustion of shouldering immense responsibility without proportional compensation. Dramatically, you described how the fees didn't match the blood, sweat, and tears you poured into your dedication. Jeonghan listened attentively, though admittedly, he struggled to fully grasp the intricacies of the education system. After all, wasn't Seungcheol the chairman of your school? Why hadn't he raised the teachers' fees?

The thought crossed Jeonghan's mind: perhaps he should start an education foundation and put you in charge. Given your track record and performance, you'd undoubtedly excel in such a role. Yet, as he stood outside your father's nursery room, he shook his head, berating himself for overthinking your future when your marriage was purely contractual. "I must be crazy," he mused inwardly.

"Good afternoon, father. I'm Yoon Jeonghan, Y/n's husband," he greeted warmly as he entered the room, finding your father seated in front of his chessboard.

Your father looked up with a smile, welcoming Jeonghan with open arms. "Oh, Yoon son-in-law. Come join me!" he beckoned, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

A smile automatically spread across Jeonghan's face at the genuine warmth of your father's reception. Despite the complexities of their familial arrangement, moments like these reminded Jeonghan of the genuine connections that transcended mere contracts. As he settled in beside your father for a game of chess, he found solace in the simple pleasures of camaraderie and companionship.

"Is it your first time?" Jeonghan's voice whispered near your ear as you both stepped into the opulent ballroom where the charity event, hosted by the Jeon Family, was taking place. He looked dashing in his navy suit with a baby blue shirt, a combination that perfectly complemented your own attire—a stunning off-shoulder dress with elbow-length sleeves, elegantly matching his ensemble. Jeonghan mentally made a note to thank Jihoon, his secretary, later for selecting such a perfect dress that accentuated your beauty and drew attention to you as the two of you entered the room.

His arm naturally found its place around your waist as you navigated through the crowd to greet the host.

"No, I've been to several events like this with my father," you replied to Jeonghan's question, your voice tinged with a hint of familiarity with such affairs.

"Is he a friend or a foe?" you inquired, your curiosity piqued as you were introduced to Jeon Wonwoo, the host of the evening. Jeonghan couldn't help but chuckle at your straightforwardness. "Where did you learn that question?" he teased gently, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Just answer me," you demanded, your tone firm and unwavering.

Jeonghan smiled, amused by your determination. "Friend of a foe," he replied cryptically, knowing that the complexities of relationships in high society were often difficult to decipher.

You sighed in frustration, recalling Wonwoo's connection to Seungcheol as his college friend. "Right? I knew he's Seungcheol's college friend. I think I've met him," you muttered, feeling a twinge of annoyance at the implications.

Jeonghan nodded in understanding, his gaze lingering on your face with a mixture of empathy and reassurance. "I could tell. He seemed taken aback when I introduced you," he remarked, subtly acknowledging the tension in the air.

Reaching for a glass of wine offered by a passing server, Jeonghan silently offered you some, but you declined with a shake of your head.

"However, who cares, right?" Jeonghan's tone was light, his words carrying an air of nonchalance as he took a sip of his wine, his eyes meeting yours with an assurance that eased your worries.

As if summoned by the mention of his name, Seungcheol strode into the scene, exuding charisma in his dark grey suit. His entrance commanded attention, and your eyes involuntarily darted towards Jeonghan, meeting his gaze. A blush crept onto your cheeks as you realized he might have caught you staring at Seungcheol. Sensing your discomfort, Jeonghan's brows raised in silent inquiry before his arm enveloped your left side, pulling you closer to him. His touch was reassuring, a silent declaration of his presence by your side as Seungcheol approached.

Seungcheol effortlessly navigated the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and accepting handshakes with ease. His eyes found yours briefly, accompanied by a charming smile, before he addressed Jeonghan. "I heard Mingyu will represent Seoul for the basketball national player selection in Busan this week," he remarked, a genuine note of pride evident in his voice.

Seungcheol loves basketball.

Jeonghan nodded proudly, acknowledging his nephew's achievements. "Yeah, really proud of him. Y/n has played a huge role there," he replied, turning his gaze towards you with a soft smile, a silent acknowledgment of your contributions.

Seungcheol's gaze shifted back to yours, his tone casual yet tinged with subtle observation. "I can see," he remarked, a hint of nostalgia coloring his words. "You used to have no idea how amazing Mingyu could play."

Before the conversation could delve deeper, Seungcheol changed the topic, steering towards the subject of marriage. You sensed a subtle shift in Jeonghan's demeanor, an underlying tension that threatened to surface. His gaze, once warm, now held a hint of irritation directed towards Seungcheol, a testament to the unresolved feelings lingering between them.

Smiling reassuringly, you reached out to touch Jeonghan's chest, your gesture a silent reassurance of your unity. "It's wonderful," you affirmed confidently, your eyes locking with Jeonghan's, seeking solace in his unwavering support.

"Jeonghan is an amazing husband," you continued, your voice filled with conviction. "I'm so happy that I married him."

Seungcheol blinked, momentarily taken aback by your assertiveness, before nodding silently. "Great to hear that," he replied, a hint of resignation coloring his tone. "I should greet the host," he added, raising his wine glass in a small gesture of acknowledgment before excusing himself.

As Seungcheol walked away, Jeonghan's frustration boiled over, his eyes narrowing with suppressed anger. "I was near to punch him," he muttered, his voice laced with irritation as he closed his eyes, attempting to regain his composure.

You chuckled softly, sensing the tension dissipating. "I can see you flying over to him and punching him in the face earlier," you teased lightly, a hint of amusement in your tone as you offered a moment of levity amidst the lingering animosity.

The night stretched on, with Jeonghan engulfed in conversations with businessmen, leaving you to navigate the socialite crowd alone, feeling like a fish out of water. Eventually, you found yourself standing outside the ballroom, seeking solace in the quietude of the night and the serene view through the window. Lost in your thoughts, you were startled by the approach of a familiar figure, hands casually tucked into his pockets, his presence both unexpected and unwelcome.

Closing your eyes briefly, you hoped it was merely a figment of your imagination, but the sound of your name being called confirmed his presence.

"Can we talk?" Seungcheol's voice broke through the silence, his words hanging in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions.

You sighed, turning to face him, the weight of his gaze meeting yours. Despite yourself, a flutter of butterflies stirred within you, though you couldn't discern if it was from excitement or apprehension.

"We're talking," you replied curtly, a hint of defiance lacing your tone.

Seungcheol nodded, his expression reflecting a mixture of regret and uncertainty. "I'm sorry," he began, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I'm sorry that I don't know what happened to your father. I've only heard about the losses you've endured—your mother, your uncle, and the survival of your father."

His confession hung in the air, laden with the weight of unspoken regrets. "I was surprised when your father mistook me for your husband at your wedding, and it's been weighing on me ever since," he continued, his voice laced with genuine remorse.

"When I received the call from the nursery house, I was so confused," Seungcheol admitted, his tone tinged with vulnerability. "But I was grateful for the opportunity to finally speak to your father again."

"I'm sorry because I wasn't there when all of this happened. I'm very—" Seungcheol's words faltered as he struggled to find the right expression of remorse.

Interrupting him, you cut to the chase, your voice tinged with frustration. "What are you trying to say, Seungcheol?"

A pregnant pause hung between you, the weight of the unspoken conversation pressing down on both of you. Seungcheol bit his lip, his gaze dropping as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. With a heavy sigh, he shook his head in defeat.

"I don't know," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, uncertainty clouding his features.

Taking a step forward, you narrowed your brow, your gaze piercing as you studied him intently. "Seungcheol, you're never this confused," you observed, a note of concern creeping into your tone as you searched for clarity in his eyes.

"I know," he replied softly, his admission underscoring the depth of his inner turmoil.

"Why are you so... confused?" You questioned, your voice tinged with a mix of frustration and hurt. "You've always been eager. You weren't this confused when you broke our engagement two years ago. You were very determined to choose your career over me. Why confused now, Choi Seungcheol?"

Seungcheol's response was heavy with emotion, his voice strained as he struggled to contain his feelings. "Because I still care about you, a lot," he admitted, his words hanging in the air like a heavy weight.

"Actually, the feeling is still the same. It never fades," he added softly, his admission piercing through the defenses you had carefully constructed.

You scoffed, a defense mechanism kicking in, but deep down, your heart clenched painfully at his words. Determined to put an end to the conversation, you took a step away, wanting to distance yourself from his emotional turmoil. However, a firm grip around your hand halted your retreat as Seungcheol spoke once more.

"I know you feel it too," he asserted, his gaze searching yours for confirmation.

His words echoed in the silence, reverberating through your thoughts as memories of the past flooded back. Seungcheol's admission of regret pierced through the walls you had erected around your heart, stirring emotions you had long buried.

Closing your eyes tightly, you fought against the tears threatening to spill over, the weight of Seungcheol's words bearing down on you. But just as despair threatened to consume you, a familiar warmth enveloped you, pulling you into a comforting embrace.

Jeonghan's presence washed over you like a lifeline, his familiar scent grounding you in the present moment. His protective stance against Seungcheol's lingering presence provided a shield from the emotional turmoil swirling around you.

"Stop your bullshit or I'll punch you in the face," Jeonghan's voice cut through the tension, his words laced with a fierce protectiveness that made your heart swell with gratitude.

Turning to face you, Jeonghan gently cupped your face in his hands, his touch tender and reassuring. "Let's go home," he whispered softly, his words a beacon of solace in the midst of turmoil, offering you the comfort and security you desperately needed in that moment.

As you arrived home, the weight of the evening's emotional turmoil lingered in the air, casting a shadow over the silence between you and Jeonghan. He watched quietly as you collapsed onto the couch, the exhaustion and frustration evident in the heaviness of your sighs as you kicked off your heels.

Taking a seat across from you, Jeonghan observed your struggles with a furrowed brow, his heart aching at the sight of your frustration boiling over into tears. He despised seeing you in such distress, yet felt powerless to ease your pain.

Your sobs tugged at Jeonghan's heartstrings, drawing his attention with a mixture of concern and determination. Squatting in front of you, he gently lifted your hands away from your tear-streaked face, his touch gentle and reassuring.

"Hey, it's okay. You're with me," Jeonghan whispered softly, his words a soothing balm to your troubled soul.

Uncertain of how to comfort you further, Jeonghan instinctively pulled you into his embrace, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and security. He felt your sobs intensify against his chest, each one a painful reminder of the depth of your distress.

Jeonghan's hand found its way to your hair, his fingers tenderly tracing soothing patterns as he offered a comforting pat on the head. Gradually, the weight of your emotions seemed to overwhelm you, lulling you into a fitful sleep within the safety of his arms.

When Jeonghan awoke the next morning, you were nowhere to be found. Rushing to get ready for work, his mind buzzed with a whirlwind of thoughts, each one centered around you. The events of the previous night replayed in his mind like a broken record, leaving him grappling with conflicting emotions.

Watching you confront Seungcheol had filled him with pride, admiring your strength and courage in the face of adversity. Yet, a sense of protectiveness stirred within him as he remembered Seungcheol's unwanted touch, his instinct to shield you from further harm overwhelming his rational thoughts.

There was a part of Jeonghan that longed to keep your vulnerability to himself, a desire to protect you from the pain of exposing your innermost struggles to others. It was a sentiment he couldn't quite comprehend, yet one that tugged at his heartstrings with undeniable force, leaving him grappling with the complexities of his own emotions in the wake of your shared turmoil.

Later that night, Jeonghan stumbled upon you sitting on the kitchen barstool, a familiar bottle of liquor resting on the counter before you. The sight of the alcohol stirred memories of your first encounter with Jeonghan, a bittersweet reminder of the journey you had traveled together.

Exhausted yet unable to ignore your distress, Jeonghan veered away from the bedroom and approached you instead. Without hesitation, he snatched your glass, draining its contents before disposing of it and the bottle in the sink. You protested weakly, but the effects of the alcohol had already begun to blur your senses, leaving you in a state of intoxication.

"Let's sleep," Jeonghan suggested gently, his voice laced with concern as he sought to ease your troubled mind.

"No!" you objected stubbornly, your defiance evident even in your inebriated state.

"Why? Tomorrow is a long day," Jeonghan reasoned, his exhaustion palpable as he attempted to coax you into rest.

You nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth in his words. "I know," you conceded quietly.

As Jeonghan studied your flushed face, he couldn't help but marvel at your beauty, even in the simplicity of your pajamas. With a tender touch, he scooped you up into his arms, recognizing your inability to navigate the stairs in your current state, and carried you to bed.

Gently laying you down, Jeonghan's fingers traced the tear stains on your cheeks, his heart clenching at the sight of your silent sorrow. "What's bothering you, Y/n?" he inquired softly, his concern evident in his voice.

"Nothing," you replied with a sigh, a sense of resignation coloring your words.

"Then why were you crying?" Jeonghan pressed further, his gaze searching yours for answers.

You hesitated before finally speaking, your words tinged with bitterness. "You won't care," you murmured, your voice heavy with the weight of past wounds.

"I care for you," Jeonghan insisted earnestly, his sincerity evident in the warmth of his gaze.

You scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. "That's what that bastard Seungcheol said. But he still left me. Left me alone and cold," you confessed, the pain of abandonment still raw in your heart.

Meeting your gaze, Jeonghan's eyes softened with empathy. "I'm not Seungcheol," he reminded you gently, his touch reassuring as he caught your trembling finger.

"I don't say you're Seungcheol," you countered, your voice tinged with frustration.

"Stop comparing me to him."

"Then what should I do?" you asked, your voice laced with uncertainty.

Jeonghan's gaze drifted down to your lips, a fleeting moment of hesitation passing between you before he met your eyes once more. "Just take this and forget him," he whispered, his breath mingling with yours in the intimate space between you.

As Jeonghan's intrusive thoughts overpowered his rationality, he yielded to the overwhelming desire pulsating within him. With a surge of longing, he crashed his lips against yours, surrendering to the intoxicating taste of alcohol lingering on your lips. In that fleeting moment, the world around them dissolved into nothingness, leaving only the fiery passion igniting between them.

Your hands instinctively found their way into his hair, fingers weaving through the soft strands as Jeonghan deepened the kiss with fervent determination. What had begun as a mere release of frustration swiftly evolved into a fervent display of raw passion, each brush of your lips against his sending sparks of electricity coursing through his veins.

Jeonghan's rationality dissolved in the heat of the moment, his mind consumed by the overwhelming desire to alleviate your worries and drown out the echoes of your past pain. In this embrace, he found solace in the warmth of your touch, a silent vow to stand by your side and shield you from the storms that threatened to engulf your heart.

For now, there was only the fiery passion that bound you together, a testament to the depth of your connection and the unspoken longing that pulsed beneath the surface. In this stolen moment, Jeonghan cast aside all semblance of reason, allowing his heart to guide him as he sought to erase your troubles with the fervent intensity of his love.

Jeonghan woke up with a hollow ache in his chest, the absence of your warmth beside him amplifying the emptiness he felt. The memory of last night's intimate moments with you lingered, but now he found himself alone in the morning light, as if what you shared had meant nothing to you. His mind wandered back to the first time you met, remembering how he had left you then, and now he understood the pang of abandonment you must have felt when he slipped away after your passionate encounter.

Walking into the kitchen, Jeonghan's heart sank as he realized he was the only one there. The usual morning routine of breakfast with you and Mingyu was disrupted, leaving him feeling even more isolated. "Mrs. Ji and Mr. Kim were heading to Busan early this morning," the emptiness of the kitchen echoed with the reminder of your absence.

Nodding absentmindedly, Jeonghan's hand instinctively reached for his phone, a desperate urge to reach out to you tugging at his heartstrings. But then, a wave of uncertainty washed over him, and he hesitated. Instead of sending a text, he opted to call you, craving the sound of your voice more than anything. Each ring felt like an eternity, his heart pounding in anticipation until finally, he heard the soft click of you picking up the phone, and the warmth of your greeting flooded his senses, momentarily soothing the ache in his soul.

"You two arrived already?" Jeonghan's voice trembled slightly with anticipation as he awaited your response.

"Just arrived, we stopped at the rest area for breakfast. Your nephew is a big eater, he couldn't skip a meal," your voice came through the phone, sounding unchanged, which brought a sense of relief to Jeonghan's troubled heart.

"Okay, update me, alright?" Jeonghan requested, trying to keep his tone casual despite the turmoil swirling inside him.

"Sure... Wanna talk to Mingyu?" you offered, your usual thoughtfulness shining through even in the midst of their conversation.

Before Jeonghan could respond, Mingyu's voice burst through the line, filled with excitement and nerves. "Uncle, wish me luck!"

"You'll do great, buddy," Jeonghan reassured him, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. There was a brief pause, during which Jeonghan could almost feel the weight of Mingyu's uncertainty hanging in the air.

"He sounds genuine... He's never like that with me," Mingyu's voice carried a hint of surprise as he confided in you, prompting a chuckle from Jeonghan.

"You promised me you'd bring that national player home," Jeonghan reminded Mingyu playfully, a warmth spreading through him at the sound of Mingyu's excitement as he promised to fulfill his uncle's request once he returned.

Later that day, you sent him a few photos of Mingyu during the selection, and Jeonghan kindly forwarded them to his parents, wanting to keep them in the loop about their grandson's achievements. However, as the night wore on, you informed him of the heavy rain in Busan, preventing your return to Seoul. Instead, you decided to stay the night in Busan and head back in the morning.

"That's better. Let me know when you're heading back," Jeonghan replied, a sense of relief washing over him knowing you would be safe for the night.

You hummed in acknowledgment, but before you could end the call, Jeonghan heard Mingyu sighing in the background, his voice carrying a hint of teasing annoyance. "I know you two were away, but can you stop being lovey-dovey when I'm around?"

Jeonghan chuckled softly at his nephew's playful protest, the warmth of family bonds soothing his troubled thoughts. However, his curiosity piqued as he overheard Mingyu and you discussing your health check-up results from the hospital.

"You checked too? Why didn't you tell me?" Jeonghan interjected, surprised by the revelation.

"It was Mingyu's idea because he didn't want to be alone. It was supposed to be sent this afternoon. Can you send me the picture of Mingyu's one? I should send it to the committee," you explained, your voice filled with concern and consideration for Mingyu's well-being.

"Hmm... I'll send it. Have a rest, okay?" Jeonghan reassured you, a sense of gratitude flooding his heart for your care towards Mingyu, even in his absence.

Jeonghan hurriedly checked the mailbox and retrieved Mingyu's and your health check-up results. With a quick glance, he opened Mingyu's envelope and snapped a picture of the document before sending it to you. Then, his curiosity got the better of him, and he couldn't resist opening your envelope as well.

As he scanned through your results, a swell of pride filled Jeonghan's heart. The report was a testament to your dedication to maintaining a healthy lifestyle through daily workouts and balanced nutrition. He remembered the strength and vitality he had witnessed in your body, making it evident that you were in excellent health.

However, as Jeonghan continued to read, his eyes widened in surprise. Amidst the obstetric history section, he felt a rush of relief upon seeing that you were not pregnant. Yet, his relief was short-lived as he stumbled upon something he couldn't comprehend, something that made his heart skip a beat as he carefully read through the results.

Jeonghan's mind raced as he read and reread the results, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar term that appeared on the paper. A sense of unease settled in the pit of his stomach as he realized there was something he didn't know about you, something hidden beneath the surface of your seemingly perfect health.

Jeonghan stood outside Seungcheol's office, his hand hesitating on the doorknob. It had been years since he last stepped foot in this place, memories flooding back with each passing moment. With a deep breath, he pushed the door open, revealing Seungcheol's surprised expression.

Seungcheol blinked, momentarily taken aback by his cousin's unexpected visit. "Jeonghan? What brings you here after all this time? Do you have news for me?"

Jeonghan remained silent, his gaze piercing as he met Seungcheol's eyes. There was a simmering anger behind his stoic expression, a resentment that had been brewing for years.

"Have you finally discovered that I was the one who was engaged to your wife before you?" Seungcheol's voice was tinged with a hint of bitterness, his own emotions swirling beneath the surface.

Jeonghan's jaw clenched, struggling to contain the surge of fury threatening to spill over. With a controlled exhale, he hummed in response, his voice laced with restrained anger. "I also happen to know that you were the one who foolishly ended that engagement."

The air crackled with tension as the two cousins faced each other, years of unresolved emotions hanging heavily between them. Jeonghan's visit had reopened old wounds, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting feelings that neither of them could ignore.

"Choosing career over a woman sounds like investing in a risky business when you were already offered a great and amazing business project," Jeonghan remarked, his words dripping with disdain. The resentment in his voice was palpable as he looked at Seungcheol.

Seungcheol felt his anger bubbling up within him, Jeonghan's accusation striking a nerve. His jaw tightened as he struggled to maintain his composure in the face of his cousin's cutting words.

"I'm glad the board is considering the future of the company again," Jeonghan continued, his tone carrying a note of satisfaction. It was clear he took pleasure in the implication that Seungcheol's decisions had jeopardized the company's success.

Seungcheol clenched his fists, his frustration mounting with each passing moment. Jeonghan's presence was like a thorn in his side, dredging up painful memories and reigniting old conflicts.

"What do you want, Yoon Jeonghan?" Seungcheol's voice was terse, his eyes narrowing as he met his cousin's gaze. He braced himself for whatever confrontation lay ahead, steeling himself for the storm that was about to come.

"I personally ask you to stop confronting my wife. What happened at the Jeon Charity Ball is the last time," Jeonghan asserted, his voice carrying a note of finality.

Seungcheol tilted his head, a sly smirk creeping onto his lips. "You seemed annoyed by what happened that night. You're not that confident?"

Jeonghan's facade remained unyielding as he responded with casual indifference, "I don't know what you're talking about."

A knowing glint flickered in Seungcheol's eyes as he pressed on, his tone laced with subtle provocation. "You saw that too, right? She was confused. She also feels the same thing that night."

Jeonghan's mask slipped for a moment, a fleeting glimpse of uncertainty crossing his features before he masked it with practiced ease. "You're afraid if she actually chooses me, right?" Seungcheol's words cut through the tension like a knife, his challenge hanging in the air between them, a silent dare to acknowledge the truth they both knew but refused to confront.

Jeonghan drew in a deep breath, his hand trembling slightly as it reached into his inner pocket. With deliberate care, he withdrew an envelope, the weight of its contents palpable in the air between them.

"No, she hates you. And this explains a lot," Jeonghan declared, his voice tinged with a mixture of accusation and resignation.

Seungcheol's brows furrowed in confusion as he accepted the envelope, his curiosity piqued. With cautious fingers, he tore it open, revealing its contents with growing bewilderment.

"What's this?" Seungcheol questioned, his gaze flicking between the papers and Jeonghan's inscrutable expression.

Jeonghan took a steadying breath before speaking, his voice laced with a hint of bitterness. "Her obstetric history says she's currently not pregnant. And she had one miscarriage."

The weight of Jeonghan's words hung heavy in the air, the truth they carried sinking in with a sickening realization.

"What do you mean?" Seungcheol's voice wavered slightly, his mind reeling with the implications of what he was hearing.

"She was pregnant with your child when you left her," Jeonghan stated matter-of-factly, his words cutting through the tension like a knife.

Seungcheol felt the blood drain from his face as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, the enormity of his actions crashing down on him like a tidal wave.

"Her miscarriage date was after the car accident, which means she could have suffered the pregnancy loss due to the stress of having to face all of that alone," Jeonghan continued, his voice heavy with condemnation.

Jeonghan rose from the couch, his movements swift and purposeful as he buttoned his suit jacket. "I don't want to see you face her again," he declared, his tone final.

Seungcheol's heart sank as he realized the depth of his betrayal, the magnitude of the pain he had caused crashing over him like a wave of guilt and remorse.

"If you confront her again, I could destroy all of this," Jeonghan warned, gesturing to Seungcheol's office, a stark reminder of the consequences that loomed over them both.

As Jeonghan made his way to his office, his phone buzzed with a message from Mingyu. He glanced down to see a photo of Mingyu beaming widely, seated beside you who were driving, with a caption that read, "a photo of a national player and his aunt driving." A warm smile spread across Jeonghan's face, and he immediately tapped the call button.

A cheerful tone greeted him as Mingyu answered the call. Jeonghan wasted no time in asking about Mingyu's whereabouts, and Mingyu kindly explained that he had just left the rest area.

Jeonghan chuckled as he heard you mumbling about his nephew's big appetite agenda. "Are you going to live in the center then?" Jeonghan inquired, curiosity lacing his voice as Mingyu outlined his plans after securing a slot as a national player.

"Yup, starting in a week. I'm glad the center is in Seoul," Mingyu replied, relief evident in his voice.

"You're so full of energy, Mingyu. Tone down a bit for my wife," Jeonghan teased playfully.

Mingyu let out a deep sigh, but a grin quickly replaced it. "Aunt has said that to me a hundred times," he admitted, "but I take it as a compliment." There was a warmth in Mingyu's voice, a genuine affection for the bond he shared with Jeonghan and you.

"Did she rest well last night? She has been super busy with—" Jeonghan's words hung in the air, abruptly cut off by the sound of Mingyu's panicked shout and the jarring noise of cars colliding.

Jeonghan's heart leaped into his throat as he stared at his phone screen, the call still connected but met with eerie silence on the other end. "Kim Mingyu, answer me," he urged, desperation creeping into his voice.

Lee Jihoon, Jeonghan's secretary who sat beside the driver, glanced at him through the rearview mirror, concern etched on his face. "What happened, sir?"

Jeonghan's gaze flicked to Jihoon, his voice strained with worry. "Can you look for a car crash on the Busan-Seoul road? I think my wife and my nephew—" His words trailed off, fear gripping him as he imagined the worst.

"Uncle, uncle," Mingyu's voice crackled through the phone's speaker, cutting through the tension like a lifeline.

Jeonghan's breath caught in his chest as he frantically responded to Mingyu's voice. "We're fine," Mingyu reassured him, his breath coming in short gasps. "Cars in front of us crashed, but aunt managed to avoid it," he explained, relief flooding Jeonghan's veins like a soothing balm.

"Are you guys okay?" Jeonghan's voice quivered with concern, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for Mingyu's response.

There was a brief pause before Mingyu's voice crackled through the phone, strained but steady. "I'm fine," he assured Jeonghan.

"But I think aunt needs help," Mingyu continued, his words weighted with worry. Jeonghan's frustration surged, his mind racing with thoughts of you in distress.

With a determined exhale, Jeonghan clenched his jaw, his resolve hardening. "Send me your location," he instructed firmly, his voice carrying a sense of urgency. "I'll go there." The gravity of the situation spurred him into action, his only thought now to reach your side as quickly as possible.

Jeonghan bolted when he caught sight of Mingyu seated beside you on one of the benches in the rest area. Mingyu sprang to his feet as soon as he saw his uncle, his relief palpable. Meanwhile, you remained seated calmly, unnoticed by Jeonghan, who was focused on his nephew's well-being.

"Are you okay?" Jeonghan's voice trembled slightly as he examined Mingyu's body for any signs of injury. Mingyu nodded reassuringly, but then turned his head towards you, subtly signaling to Jeonghan that the car crash had affected you more than him.

Jeonghan approached you cautiously, his heart pounding with a mixture of concern and guilt. Your eyes flickered with surprise as you realized his presence, and a wave of emotions washed over you – relief that he was safe, worry for your own condition, and a hint of apprehension about what the aftermath of the accident might entail.

Jeonghan squatted in front of you, his hands tenderly cupping your cheeks as he examined your body for any signs of harm. "Are you okay?" His voice was filled with genuine concern, his eyes searching yours for reassurance.

You nodded slowly, grateful for his comforting presence amidst the chaos. With a gentle sigh of relief, Jeonghan pulled you into a warm embrace, enveloping you in his protective arms. "You're okay, I'm here," he murmured softly, his words a soothing balm to your rattled nerves.

Jeonghan instructed his driver to take control of your car while Jihoon, Mingyu, you and he made their way back home. Mingyu observed both Jeonghan and you through the rearview mirror, noticing how you slept peacefully in Jeonghan's arms while he appeared to drift off as well, exhaustion evident on his features.

Curious, Mingyu leaned forward and whispered to Jihoon, "Have you ever seen my uncle like this before?"

Jihoon shook his head, his eyes focused on the road ahead. "Nope, never. This is the first time he's taken a day off, skipped a meeting, and... he looks happy."

Mingyu nodded thoughtfully, a small smile playing on his lips. "My uncle indeed seems happier these days," he mused, feeling a sense of contentment knowing that Jeonghan was finding joy amidst the chaos of everyday life.

Jeonghan had already notified the school about yesterday's accident, ensuring both you and Mingyu were excused from attending today. Meanwhile, he hurriedly sent a text to Jihoon, rearranging his schedule for the day. Taking a day off to care for you was his priority, especially after the harrowing events of the previous day.

As he woke up with you nestled in his arms, a rare occurrence since your marriage four months ago, Jeonghan couldn't help but feel a rush of tenderness. Your serene sleeping face, untouched by the usual stress of waking hours, was a sight he cherished. It was a stark contrast to the survival mode you often found yourselves in when awake.

When your eyes fluttered open and you muttered about your shoulder hurting, Jeonghan's concern immediately surged. He leaned closer to hear you better, his heart clenching at the thought of you being injured. After confirming which shoulder was hurting, he gently examined it, silently hoping it wasn't serious. Your mention of turning the steering wheel too much during the accident only heightened his worry, but he masked it with a reassuring smile.

"You did a great job," he murmured softly, his hand brushing against yours. "Let's have breakfast and then we'll head to the hospital to get it checked."

With a nod of agreement, you both prepared for the day ahead, though the weight of yesterday's events still lingered in the air. As you sat down for breakfast, a mix of relief and apprehension filled the room, knowing that a trip to the hospital awaited.

In the dining room, the morning light cast a warm glow as you and Jeonghan joined Mingyu for breakfast. Jeonghan couldn't help but notice the genuine smile that graced your lips as you patted Mingyu's head, a silent exchange of affection between aunt and nephew. Mingyu leaned into you, a gesture that tugged at Jeonghan's heartstrings. He couldn't shake the worry that Mingyu would be devastated if he ever discovered the truth about your marriage being contractual. But for now, he pushed those thoughts aside, determined to savor the present moment and the happiness it brought.

"We're going to the hospital after this," Jeonghan mentioned to Mingyu, his voice carrying a hint of concern. Mingyu's immediate worry for you only reinforced Jeonghan's resolve to protect both of you from any further harm.

As you explained about your injured shoulder, Mingyu's apology weighed heavily in the air, but you quickly brushed it aside with a reassuring smile, urging him to focus on his practice. Jeonghan couldn't help but admire your resilience, your ability to put others' worries at ease even when facing your own discomfort.

Throughout breakfast, Jeonghan's mind raced with thoughts of the accident and its aftermath. He couldn't shake the memories of past tragedies involving car accidents, each one leaving a lasting scar on his heart. But amidst the turmoil, he found solace in being able to care for you, to ensure your well-being above all else.

After breakfast, you and Jeonghan made your way to the hospital. Entering the waiting room, the atmosphere shifted as Jeonghan engaged in small talk while waiting for your turn. Suddenly, someone called his name, and Jeonghan's demeanor shifted as he rose to greet Mr. and Mrs. Yang. Introducing you as his wife.

"Are you guys here for pre-natal care?" Jeonghan's words hung in the air as Mrs. Yang's assumption about prenatal care caught both of you off guard.

Jeonghan's swift denial masked a deeper discomfort, and as Mr. Yang commented on modern attitudes towards starting a family, Jeonghan's whispered reassurance hinted at a sensitivity he rarely showed.

"Why?"

Your questioning gaze only added to his unease, and his attempt to deflect the topic left you wondering about his sudden change in demeanor.

"It's just sensitive topic. Pregnancy.. For women, at least."

As you sat in the waiting room, waiting for your turn to be seen, the tension between you and Jeonghan lingered, unspoken words hanging in the air. Despite the uncertainty, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for his unwavering support, even in moments of vulnerability. And as you searched for answers in his troubled gaze, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his reaction than met the eye

"Where's my health results?" You approached Jeonghan, interrupting him as he busily signed some papers in the living room. His hand froze mid-signature at the mention of the envelope he had left at Seungcheol's office.

"I read it. You don't need it," Jeonghan replied casually, his attention divided between you and the papers.

You couldn't help but scoff at his dismissive tone. "That'll be for me to decide," you retorted firmly.

Jeonghan's expression softened as he realized the gravity of the situation. "I accidentally threw it in the bin, sorry," he admitted, a hint of regret in his voice.

"You're kidding me. I need it, Jeonghan," you demanded, frustration lacing your words.

Jeonghan let out a small scoff, not entirely convinced. "Don't lie to me, darling. You said you did the check-up for Mingyu."

You shook your head, feeling the weight of urgency pressing down on you. "No, I'm serious. I have to submit a health check-up result for my teaching certification."

A warm smile spread across Jeonghan's face as he realized the seriousness of your predicament. "Then you could redo the check-up," he suggested, his tone gentle and reassuring, offering a solution to ease your worries.

You rolled your eyes and plopped down beside him, refusing to let this go. "You're not stupid enough to accidentally throw it. Give it to me, or I'll just keep bothering you while you work!"

Your childish antics earned a soft chuckle from Jeonghan. Little did you know, your playful behavior stirred a flutter of butterflies inside his stomach. However, beneath the laughter, a pang of guilt gnawed at him. He couldn't bear the thought of revealing that he knew your secret, nor could he admit to confronting Seungcheol about it.

"Give it to me, quickly!" you urged, your impatience palpable.

Jeonghan sighed, feeling the weight of his deception pressing down on him. "It's not with me," he mumbled, avoiding your gaze.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? If it's not with you, then where is it?"

Jeonghan pushed aside the pile of papers in front of him and turned to face you fully. "Don't you want to tell me something?" he asked, his tone serious, catching you off guard.

You were taken aback by the sudden change in Jeonghan's demeanor. "I don't get it," you admitted, unsure of his intentions with the question.

Jeonghan sighed heavily, steeling himself for the difficult conversation ahead. "I read your results and... I found out that... You... You had a miscarriage," he finally admitted, his voice laced with uncertainty, afraid that his words might inadvertently hurt you.

You blinked, processing his revelation. "It's written there?" you asked softly, your tone barely above a whisper.

Jeonghan nodded, his gaze fixed on your face, searching for any signs of how you were feeling. He noticed the glint in your eyes, the subtle shift in your expression as memories resurfaced.

His hands instinctively moved to your side, a silent gesture of support. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions, and nodded slowly, your eyes closed. Your hands moved to your face, wiping away the tears that had begun to flow. Despite your efforts, a chuckle escaped you, tinged with embarrassment at your own vulnerability.

"It's been two years already, but I'm still a coward when it comes to having a conversation about this like an adult," you confessed, offering a glimpse into the depth of your emotions and the difficulty of facing such a painful experience.

Jeonghan tilted his head, his expression softening with understanding. "No, it's okay. Everyone has something they don't want to talk about. I'm sorry for asking you," he reassured you, his voice gentle and comforting. But you shook your head, a need to share weighing heavily on your heart.

"When I met you at that bar for the first time, it was the date when I had my miscarriage," you revealed, your voice trembling with emotion.

"I was having a fancy dinner for myself, and I bumped into Seungcheol's parents. They looked so happy talking about their son's success when they were the reason I lost the baby."

Jeonghan's brows furrowed in confusion and concern. "What do you mean?" he asked softly, urging you to continue.

"When they came to me with money for my father's surgery, I told them that I was pregnant with Seungcheol's child. They were so mad, especially his mother. She... she pushed me so hard that I—" You choked on your words, overcome with emotion, the pain of that fateful day still raw and agonizing.

Jeonghan's heart filled with anger, but his touch remained gentle and soft as he pulled you into his embrace, allowing you to release your pent-up sobs.

He gently lifted your face to look at him, his own heart aching at the sight of your tears and swollen eyes. Tenderly, he cupped your cheeks and wiped away the tears, offering you solace in his comforting embrace.

"I'm so sorry that you've been through this," Jeonghan whispered, his voice filled with empathy and sorrow. He took a deep breath before continuing, his words chosen carefully. "I'm so proud of your progression, facing Seungcheol and being brave in front of him. That's great, Y/n... However, this pain," he said, gesturing to your distressed state, "you couldn't keep it to yourself."

His words resonated deeply with you, and tears welled up in your eyes once again as you felt the weight of his understanding and support.

"I'm here if you need me. Regardless of whether this marriage is contractual or not, we're still husband and wife," Jeonghan declared, his voice unwavering with determination.

"Jeonghan..." you began, feeling overwhelmed by his kindness and reassurance.

Without another word, Jeonghan closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours with a gentle tenderness that sent shivers down your spine. In that fleeting moment, his touch spoke volumes, conveying a depth of emotion that words could never capture. It was a gesture of love, comfort, and unwavering support, wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

As his lips met yours, you felt a rush of emotions flood over you, mingling with the taste of his presence. The kiss was a balm to your soul, soothing the ache of your heartache and offering a glimpse of solace in the midst of turmoil. In that instant, you realized that you weren't alone in your pain anymore. Jeonghan was there, standing steadfast beside you, ready to shoulder the weight of your burdens together.

The kiss lingered, drawing out the moment of intimacy as you melted into each other's embrace. His touch was both gentle and firm, a silent reassurance that you were safe in his arms. With each caress, it was as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of comfort and belonging that you had long yearned for.

In the quiet intimacy of that embrace, the walls around your heart began to crumble, allowing Jeonghan's love to seep in and mend the wounds that had long been festering. It was a healing touch, stitching together the broken pieces of your soul and offering a glimpse of hope amidst the darkness.

When the kiss finally broke, you found yourself lost in the depths of Jeonghan's gaze, seeing a reflection of your own emotions mirrored back at you.

"Why do you always make me worry?" Jeonghan whispered, his voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and affection. "Why can't I stop thinking about you, Y/n? I feel like I'm going crazy."

You gazed into his eyes, seeing the depth of his emotions reflected back at you. There was a vulnerability in his words, a raw honesty that stirred something deep within you.

"I'm so crazy!" he muttered, almost to himself, as if grappling with his own feelings.

Before you could respond, Jeonghan closed the distance between you once again, his lips seeking yours with a fervent intensity. His hand found the back of your neck, holding you close as he deepened the kiss, as if desperate for the connection to never break. Meanwhile, his other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed tightly against each other.

As he laid you down on the couch, you couldn't help but lose yourself in the whirlwind of sensations that engulfed you. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, while his hands gripped your waist possessively.

"If this is what love feels like, then I love you, Ji Y/n," he confessed between kisses, his voice husky with desire.

A moan escaped your lips as his touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You could feel the intensity of his emotions, the depth of his passion, and it only served to fuel your own desires.

"I'm so crazy because of you," he murmured against your skin, his words a whispered declaration of his love and devotion.

In that moment, as you surrendered yourself to the intoxicating whirlwind of emotion and desire, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be – wrapped in Jeonghan's arms, consumed by the flames of passion and love.

As the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, Jeonghan stirred from his sleep, his mind still heavy with the weight of the previous night's emotions. Groggily, he reached out beside him, expecting to feel the warmth of your presence, but his hand met only empty sheets.

Panic seized him as he shot up in bed, his heart racing with anxiety. Frantically, he scanned the room, searching for any sign of you, but the bed was empty, and you were nowhere to be found.

With a sense of urgency, Jeonghan threw back the covers and rushed out of the bedroom, his footsteps echoing through the silent house. He called out your name, his voice tinged with desperation, but there was no response.

His anxiety mounting with each passing second, Jeonghan raced through the house, checking every room in a frantic search for you. And then, just as his panic threatened to consume him, he heard the faint sound of voices coming from the dining room.

With a sense of relief flooding through him, Jeonghan hurried towards the source of the noise, his heart pounding in his chest. And there, in the soft glow of morning light, he found you and Mingyu sitting at the dining table, sharing a quiet breakfast together.

A wave of relief washed over him as he took in the sight of you, safe and sound, your laughter filling the room like music to his ears. Without a word, he rushed forward, pulling you into his arms in a tight embrace, holding you close as if afraid to let you go.

"Stop it!" Mingyu whined. "I told you to stop doing that in front of me."

Jeonghan threw a glance to Mingyu before his focus shifted to you, "i'll drive you work. Mingyu, you're going with driver today." His words were final before he went back to get himself prepare for work.

As you and Jeonghan finished breakfast, he suggested driving you to work, wanting to spend a little more time together before parting ways for the day. You agreed, appreciating the chance to have a few extra moments with him.

As Jeonghan maneuvered the car through the morning traffic, a comfortable silence settled between you. However, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling in the back of his mind about what had transpired between you the night before. He had made love to you, and although he believed in the connection you shared, he wanted to hear it from you directly.

Taking a deep breath, Jeonghan finally mustered up the courage to broach the subject. "Y/n, about last night..." he began, his voice hesitant yet determined. "I know what happened between us, and I believe in the connection we share. But I want to hear it from you. How do you feel about me?"

His words hung in the air, filling the car with an undeniable tension as he waited for your response. He stole a quick glance at you, his heart pounding in his chest as he awaited your answer, hoping beyond hope that it would be what he longed to hear.

You felt a wave of confusion wash over you at Jeonghan's question. Your marriage to him was contractual, a mutually beneficial arrangement that had brought you together out of convenience rather than love. You couldn't deny the undeniable attraction you felt for him, but you also feared getting hurt by allowing yourself to fully invest in something that might not be real.

Taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you turned to face Jeonghan, meeting his gaze with a mixture of uncertainty and vulnerability. "Jeonghan, our marriage may be contractual, but I never regret anything that has happened between us," you admitted softly, your voice tinged with sincerity.

"You've shown me kindness, understanding, and love, and for that, I'm grateful. But I'm also afraid," you confessed, laying bare your insecurities and fears. "I don't want to get hurt, Jeonghan. I don't want to allow myself to believe in something that might not be real."

Jeonghan listened intently to your words, his heart aching at the vulnerability in your voice. He reached out to gently take your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. "I understand your fears, Y/n," he said softly, his voice filled with empathy. "But I want you to know that what we have is real. Our connection, our bond, it's not just a contract to me. It's something deeper, something meaningful."

He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes searching yours with unwavering sincerity. "I care about you, Y/n. More than I ever thought possible. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to prove to you that our love is worth fighting for."

His words struck a chord deep within you, stirring emotions you had long kept buried. As you looked into his eyes, you saw the sincerity and love reflected back at you, and in that moment, you knew that despite your fears, you couldn't deny the depth of your feelings for him.

As you arrived at school and began your day of teaching, your thoughts were divided between your duties in the classroom and Jeonghan. Despite your best efforts to focus on your students and the lesson plans at hand, his presence lingered in the back of your mind, tugging at your thoughts whenever you had a spare moment.

Throughout the day, you found yourself reflecting on the journey of your marriage with Jeonghan. What had started as a union born out of revenge and individual advantages had evolved into something much deeper – a bond forged through affection and mercy for both of you.

You couldn't deny the growing feelings you harbored for him, feelings that had developed despite your initial reservations. You found yourself liking everything he did for you, from the small gestures of kindness to the moments of shared laughter and intimacy.

As you mulled over your emotions, a realization began to dawn on you. Could this be what love feels like? If it was, then you couldn't deny it any longer – you had fallen for Jeonghan as well.

The thought both excited and terrified you, but deep down, you knew that you were ready to embrace whatever the future held for you and Jeonghan. As the day drew to a close and you prepared to head home, a sense of anticipation filled you, eager to see where this newfound realization would lead you both.

As you made your way home, lost in your thoughts about Jeonghan and the newfound complexity of your relationship, a text message suddenly chimed on your phone. With a curious frown, you unlocked your device and opened the message from Jeonghan.

Your heart skipped a beat as you saw the photo he had sent you – a picture of torn papers scattered across his desk, accompanied by a caption that simply read, "I tear our contract. Hehe."

A rush of emotions flooded through you as you stared at the image, a mixture of surprise, excitement, and uncertainty swirling in your mind. Jeonghan's action spoke volumes, signaling a decisive step forward in your relationship and a willingness to break free from the confines of the contractual arrangement that had bound you together.

As you contemplated his message, a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. Despite the lingering doubts and fears, you couldn't deny the flutter of excitement that blossomed in your chest at the prospect of what this meant for the two of you.

With a newfound sense of determination, you quickly typed out a response to Jeonghan, your fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. "I'm on my way home. Let's talk," you wrote, your heart racing with anticipation as you hit send.

As you continued your journey home, the weight of the torn contract and the possibilities it represented hung heavy in the air, filling you with a sense of hope and excitement for the future that lay ahead.

The end.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen scenarios #densworld🌼#seventeen series #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagine #seventeen drabbles #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan smut #jeonghan fanfiction #jeonghan fic #jeonghan imagine #jeonghan au #jeonghan series

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rubywonu · 6 months

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𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 - 𝘅𝘂 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗮𝗼

summary: in which minghao flirted with a woman at an art exhibition without realizing that she was the artist.

pairing: xu minghao x fem!reader

genre: meet cute, museum au!.

warnings: talks about struggles people face in life, kinds sad?

w/c: 0.9k

nia’s notes: i do not know where i was going with this, it may be rushed, idek anymore. but enjoy!!

this is part of cutetober!

if anyone knew minghao it was because of his crazy love for paintings and art museums. so it didn't come as a surprise when minghao decided to spend an entire day at the 'everything falls' art exhibition by yn.

even if someone was slightly interested in art, they knew of yn. so when the opportunity to visit one of your exhibitions minghao rushed to the museum. it always amused him how everyone knew of your name but not your face.

minghao walked inside the museum and just by seeing the hue of orange and brown in his peripheral view, he was sure that today was going to be amazing.

minghao slowly walked over to the first painting, basking in all the emotions. the first painting showed leaves falling from the sky, each of them more dry than the previous one. minghao took a look at the name of the painting, 'as time flies'. it was obvious what the painting was conveying but the way it portrayed the message intrigued minghao.

minghao walked to the next painting and his mouth was wide open. painted on the canvas, was a woman, her back bare as she stared at multiple mirrors, each being broken in different ways and the women in the mirrors being older or younger than another.

now minghao had gone to his share of muesems and exhibitions but they never had such a mind-blowing way to convey one's emotions.

"failed and flawed." minghao turned his head to the woman walking towards him. "it's my favorite painting." it was an understatement to say that the woman walking towards minghao was pretty, in his eyes that woman was drop-dead gorgeous.

"i haven't seen any more of them but this has to be the best one so far." minghao turned back to the canvas and each time he looked at it, a new meaning behind it evoked in him. "what's your interpretation?"

"my interpretation is that this young woman looks at herself through different eras of her life and she remembers all her failed attempts in life and how her life was flawed but they calm down after she realizes the beauty of the falls in her life." you finished still looking at the painting in front of you, minghao's eyes never left you though.

he never thought about it like that and it made so much more sense now that he understood yet another version of it. "it makes so much more sense after having a beautiful woman explain it to me."

if minghao could, he wanted to slap his face. he didn't know why he said that and more importantly he was worried how you would take the spontaneous flirting. to his surprise, you laughed and played along. "i hope so, i don't explain my thoughts about my paintings to anyone, you know."

just as minghao was going to continue, he stopped right in his tracks. "my paintings? what does that mean."

you smiled and turned towards minghao, putting your hand out for him to shake. "im yn, the artist of the 'everything fall' collection."

minghao's mouth for the second time that day was wide open. "oh my god." he rushed to shake your hand.

"you're yn? that's amazing. i love your work. and about the flirting im so sorry. minghao what were you thinking?" minghao started to ramble and it added to your entertainment as you laughed.

"it's alright. i actually enjoyed it, to be honest." you smiled at him, and minghao felt like the world was going to end. you looked like you deserved your own painting, you were stunning.

"if it's alright to ask you, what was your inspiration for such an intriguing collection." minghao asked you the question you tried to avoid for the evening but you wanted to spill it all out to him, he felt comfortable.

"it's ok, just don't sell it to a publisher." you joked around and minghao cracked a smile at your answer. "last year, i took a trip around the country and visited a bunch of villages. during my stay, i met a group of women from different places who told me about their lives and the lessons they learned during their time on this planet. they told me about incidents that changed the trajectory of their lives either for the better or worse. that's why i chose to paint this, i chose to express their grief in brush strokes and paint, i guess while listening to them, i found out about the struggles in my life as well, either i didn't want to confront them or i never knew they existed."

"if you look at all the paintings you can see how mellow the messages behind the paintings get. it starts off rough and dark but as you walk by the pictures you can the gradual calm settling in, it shows the emotions that people feel when negativity strikes their lives. it shows the way people deal with those emotions." you finished your little speech and minghao was awestruck.

you talked about your paintings and minghao felt like he could listen to them forever. although it was your first meeting, minghao felt like the two of you met a long time back, it felt like the two of you shared the same soul.

you didn't realize then but for the rest of your life, you and minghao would go on for hours about your interpretation of paintings. the only thing that changed was that instead of being strangers, the both of you would be soulmates, and the both of you would fall deep in love all because of some paintings.

taglist: @caratlibrary . @caratsland . @kflixnet . @jyiiscool . @readingaddict420 . @pixieskie . @@anemoiant . @horanghae8 . @boooooseun . @wonwooz1 . @xomingyu . @bangchansbae .@weird-bookworm .

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teyamsatan · 1 year

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The Archer | Chapter X: Daylight (the end)

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX

Summary: As Neteyam comes back to life, the two of you have to decide how you want this new chance at a future to look like, and that means leaving some things behind in order to gain others.

Pairings: Neteyam x Avatar!Reader

Word Count: 15,5k words (wtf honestly)

Warnings/notes: it's over :'( , so many feels i'm drowning in them, smut (kinky, filthy smut, 18+ Minors DNI!!!)., cursing, mentions of blood and death.

A/N: 200,000 words later, the Cardigan series has officially come to an end. I have so many things I want to say, but I feel like no words would do justice to how incredible writing this story has been as an experience for me, how much it's meant to me and will continue to. I said in the first chapter of Illicit Affair that this is the first things that I have written that will ever see the light of day, and to see how many people have resonated with it, engaged with it, it has been beyond my wildest dreams (another TS reference, ha!). I will never be able to convey how grateful I am to literally each and every person that has liked, commented, replied, followed, reblogged. I know you probably hear that a lot, but I mean it from the bottom of my heart when I say I love you, and I thank you for giving me a voice, and a sense of community.

I have one more Oneshot I am planning to write for this story, which will be set in the future, and then I will be moving on, and starting new challanges. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and once again, thank you so so much.

I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night

And now I see daylight, I only see daylight

And I can still see it all in my mind

All of you, all of me intertwined

I once believed love would be black and white

But it's golden, like daylight

You were almost on the brink of drowning as you came out of the vision, looking at Kiri, who met your gaze with a mirror of your own, wide and shocked, thrilled and ecstatic, hopeful and joyful beyond any reason. You struggled to keep your cool, to keep your mouth closed, when all you wanted was to open it and scream, scream at the top of your lungs, scream for all the world to hear that you did it. You got Neteyam back. He was dead, but you revived his heart, you restarted his body, you found him in Eywa, you led him home. You never realised how literal his nickname for you would ever turn out to be, but you were grateful, for now and always, to have someone who loved you, who understood you, who shared in your every pain and grief, in your every moment of relief, in your deepest fantasies and happiest hours, who thought of you so profoundly, your being so connected to his own that your existence would be intertwined for life, for all life, for every life you led.

Holding hands, you swam towards the surface and smiled as you saw Lo’ak and Payakan hanging out. Payakan was officially reinstated in the clan and in his tulkun tribe, after heroically helping in the battle against the Sky People. Still, he preferred being with Lo’ak most of the time, and preferred being on his own. It was a hard pill to swallow, but one you were forced to many times, that, in time, you learn to love your chains. You learn to rely on the solitude, to accept it as your own, as a friend and companion, and the imprints of the shackles still dig into your skin even after they are gone. It was a phantom pain, solitude, and even when it was gone, you still felt it, still craved it, still wonder how long it would be before it inevitably came back.

As you surfaced, Lo’ak entire body jolted and turned in your direction, quite literally on the edge of his seat as his legs were hanging off his brother’s fin. His eyebrows were raised and his eyes were so wide, they were emanating light in the night darkness surrounding you, like little beacons in the sea. Both his palms were propped upwards, towards the sky in an inquisitive motion, and you could tell he was dying to know, dying to find out whether he still had a brother. You smiled in his direction, a wide smile that could barely scratch the surface of all the emotions trying you, but it was enough for him to understand, enough for him to jump up, and run laps on Payakan’s back, yelling and screaming in relief, much like you wanted to do, much like you felt you needed to.

“COME ON, come on come on, let’s go!”

You laughed at you brother and you saw Kiri rolling her eyes, but you all had tears swimming like little fish in the sea, and hope in your heart, and as you helped your sister onto Payakan, you knew you had to hurry, you knew there were very few thoughts or words that could encompass what you were all going through.

The tulkun made quick work of the journey, the gentle giant surprisingly fast for his size, and in no time at all, you found yourselves near the entrance of your marui, hearing voices coming from the inside. You stopped still in your tracks, the increase in your heartbeat so quick it made the world spin around you and your knees wobble, until they felt like the tendrils of the Tree of Souls, deep in the Omatikaya forest. Why were you nervous? It was Neteyam… your Neteyam. You’ve been together for a year now, you’ve known each other your whole lives. Seeing him hasn’t evoked this feeling in you since you were 16 and so in love with him your heart thumped at the mere mention of his name, beads of sweat dripping down your body at his mere gaze towards you, electric shocks down your back and to each extremity at any mere touch he bestowed on your body. His presence still evoked these feelings in you, the raw physical reaction you had to him unchanged in time, but you were never nervous around him anymore. Your love was comfortable, evolving from a wild fire, setting everything ablaze in its wake, to a camp fire, providing solace and warmth, providing comfort and home.

Why were you nervous? Maybe because going through those flaps, and seeing him alive would really allow the fact he was gone from this world, gone from your life to begin with, sink in. Maybe it is cause it will bring to focus how close to losing him, to losing yourself, you really were. Maybe it’s because you knew his fluttering eyes and his lips wrapping around each word as they left his mouth would bring you to your knees, would remind you of how your last conversation was a fight, a horrible, insidious fight and that in the meantime, in his absence, you lost so much, including the promise of a baby you knew he wanted more than anything in the world. How were you supposed to tell him? How would he react? Would he ever forgive you? Would you ever forgive yourself?

“Angel, you coming?”

Lo’ak waved a hand in front of your face while he gently shook you with his other one.

“Angel, you ok?”

You gulped audibly, then looked at him with panic deep set in your features. His eyes softened taking you in, and he pulled you into a hug.

“It’s going to be ok. We’re all going to be ok. You did it, angel. You brought him back to life. Now’s the happy part, you know? Now’s the good part. Come on, I’m sure he can’t wait to see you again.” He took your hand in this and pulled you behind him as he walked, and you allowed him to guide you, appreciating the little push, as you don’t know if you would have been able to make it by yourself.

There was chaos in the tent, chaos that tired you, that reminded you how exhausted and depleted of every possible resource you actually were. Max and Norm were busying themselves with machines and medical equipment, no doubt trying to make sure Neteyam’s vitals are alright, that he was alright. Would there be brain damage? Would there be physical consequences for his coma, for his lack of oxygen when he died? You tried to focus on one voice at a time, to allow it to ground you to the moment, ground you to environment around you, as you felt lightheaded and close to collapse. You found the only voice that mattered, the only voice that you would recognise anywhere, anytime, in any plane of being, in any state of consciousness, in any body or mind, in any alternate or parallel universe. The only one.

“I’m alright, sa’nok. I am here. I’m sorry.”

You’re still yet to see him, buried under all the bodies of your family members, all straddling and caressing his arms and chest and legs and feet, clinging to him like they didn’t want to let go - like they couldn’t. You got the impulse, you got how necessary it felt, how demanding a compulsion. You stood cowering in a corner of the marui, allowing them the moment you got in the spirit tree, allowing them to wallow the loss and rejoice the rebirth of their son, of their brother, of their hero.

Your hands settled on your lower abdomen, flat and taut against your palms, that you cradled and caressed softly, imagining it soft and tripled in size, imagining your fingers pressing down on it to meet the little hands and feet pushing from inside it to feel you, to talk to you. You thought sadly about the baby that was gone, your baby, Neteyam’s baby, your little perfect bundle of joy, and looked at the way Neytiri and Jake hugged their son tightly, so much love and gratitude filling the air around you, so many tears and cries filling the silence of your home. You knew then that if that was your price to pay, if this was your burden to carry, you were happy to do it, happy to have been able to be even a small reason why this moment was unfolding in front of you.

A son for a son.

A little synchronised movement between all of them is all it took for you to come face to face with the man you loved more than all the stars in the night sky, all the stars adorning his beautiful body, that stiffened as he took you in, his golden eyes wide as they landed on yours. You held the breath in your lungs and counted. Nothing else mattered in this world, not ever, not anymore. Nothing but those eyes. Nothing but the soul that was reflected so well in them, like mirrors to the depths within him, that nobody knew like you did, like nobody understood in the way you could, just like you knew he knew you. Your twin flame. You melted at the scrutiny of his gaze, that now migrated to your hands, to your lower belly that you were still holding affectionately and his eyebrows raised taking it all in. A small sob escaped your throat at seeing him, finally seeing him, at him seeing you, finally seeing you, exhausted and cried-out and marked in bruises and cuts, in thick loin cloths that were dripping in a mixture of water and blood, all the way down the leg and on the floor of the marui.

The entire family turned around to follow their son’s gaze, and when theirs landed on you, when it shifted in between the two of you, when the air became thick with tension and anticipation, in your grief and fear, in his confusion and hope, you faintly saw Jake motion everyone out of the room. Tuk came hurrying to your side, and you had to break your eye contact with your mate to kneel and take her in your arms.

“Thank you!” She was crying, small hiccups escaping her mouth with every deep breath and her small arms encircled your neck so hard they were hurting you, but you held her, allowing her to cry it out in your presence, that you knew consoled her. You have always been scared of the eventuality of motherhood, scared of your demons getting the best of you and manifesting as bad parenting, scared of the possibility of hurting your child without realising, without meaning to. Scared to be a bad mother. But holding Tuk in your arms, knowing what you meant to her, knowing you were pretty much her second mother and have been for a while now, it put your mind at ease. It helped you deal with the mind-paralysing fear and to some extent, helped you be hopeful of a time when your own child will look at you the same way.

Neytiri got up from where she stood and approached you, her eyes so red and puffy there was barely any identifiable white in them, and your heart constricted in pain at the sight. She’s had to endure so much. She hugged you, so tightly her beaded top and jewellery were scratching painfully on your skin and you smelled the faint smell of metal as blood started pouring out of you.

“You know, when I first saw you, you were the smallest thing I had ever laid my eyes on. So small, smaller than I could ever imagine a baby being. I stood next to your mother while she gave birth, and had to watch her scream in pain, scream so loudly I thought the whole forest would wake up. I was pregnant then, and watching her scared me, scared me for when I would have to give birth to my son. And when you came, you were bloodied, and covered in goo and a little wrinkled, but then, Norm and Max washed you, and I swear I had never seen anything more beautiful in my life. Not just you, but your mother. And the look she had on her face, the love I could feel all around me, the instant unbreakable connection, the unconditional bond that would transcend time and space, would always be more than any words can describe. I loved your mother, my girl. I loved her so much, and I promised to take care of you when she passed.

Imagine my surprise when you ended up taking care of us, instead. I always knew you were special, but to watch you grow up, watch you become the reason my clan is rid of a disease that plagued it for years and years, watch you fight alongside us, complete your Iknimaya, become one of the people. Watch you bring my son back to life… my son, that you have been connected to since before he was born.”

You were both crying as she was caressing your head, pushing your hair backwards and stroking it gently.

“When I was very heavily pregnant, I came to see your mother. We met in the forest, and she brought you with her, you were just a couple months old, and they had just managed to make a little oxygen mask for you, so Marj wanted to show you the forest. We lay on the ground together, just talking, like we always used to do. And all of a sudden, you reached out your little palms, almost like you were searching, and you touched my belly. And you just kept your tiny hands there, on my belly, with a little smile on your face. We laughed about it at the time, but didn’t think that much of it. Until just a few hours later I went into labour, and had Neteyam not too long after.

I thought about that moment since it happened, every time you two were together. Every time it felt like you two were one soul, split in half down the middle, meant to one day reunite and become one again. It was scary, and foreign. You were human, and he was Na’vi. You would never be one of us, I thought. But no one could deny the connection between you, not even the Tsa’hik. When you were young, your mother told me in confidence she is working on an Avatar for you. That she feels like you belong with us, you always have. That you belong with Neteyam. I agreed, but after she died, so did my hope for it.”

She looked guilty and torn as she spoke. “I pushed him, I told him to leave you, to give you space. I told him to find a mate, I thought that’s what needed to happen, I thought it would help you both heal, it would help you move on from a love that couldn’t be, that was impossible. I am so sorry. I had to see you both suffer and know I caused this.” You took her in your arms again and held her, your turn to console her.

“It’s alright, sa’nok.”

“When Norm told us about the Avatar, I was so happy. So, so happy, it felt like this was always meant to happen, this was always meant to be. I knew then that you and Neteyam would always find each other, that I was right from the beginning. That Eywa willed it so. Eywa willed everything so. The Avatar, the impossible to make Avatar happened, and it could only happen to you, because you had to be one of us, you had to guide us, you had to be Neteyam’s light. Your hands brought him into this world when he was born, your light guided him, and then brought him back to this world, when we thought we lost him forever. It was you, always you.

I will never be able to repay you. But I will continue to be your family, your mother, for as long as I still can, for as long as you’ll allow me. I will always love you, and I will always protect you with my life, just like you have continued to for me, for us, for so long. Oel ngati kameie, ma’ ite (I see you, daughter).”

Your mind was at a loss for words at Neytiri’s confession, at her love letter to your mother, to her son… to you. This woman, this incredible, strong, capable, beautiful, intelligent, kind woman has done so much for you, has given you motherly love you thought you would never feel again. She welcomed you in her life, in her family’s lives, she gave you a home and a cause and a reason to get up in the morning, and you never thought you would be able to give her anything that would be able to balance any of that out. You were beyond elated to hear that you did manage to give her something, that something you did helped her, brought her comfort and safety and peace.

“Oel gnati kameie, sa’nok (I see you, mother). You and this family are everything to me, everything. And I will continue to fight everyday to be worthy of it. Of you. Thank you.”

You hugged each family member individually, and thanked Norm and Max for their invaluable contribution to your and Neteyam’s health, for always being such good men in the storm, for being the best extended family you could have ever asked for. You watched as every last one of them left, and, with a deep breath in, you turned your gaze to him, the only person in the world - now and always.

“Hi.”

His smile dazzled you, feeling the dizziness you have been struggling with for a while, the ache deep in your womb come back into focus and knock you to your feet. You walked slowly to where Neteyam was laying, every step a torture, every step a moment in which your body seemed like it was catching up to itself, catching up to everything it’s been through. Ever since your dad’s message, your body fought and fought, it withstood everything that was thrown at it. Fight or flight always did wonders for you, until it was time to crash, until after the world settled around you and the adrenaline, the stress diminished, and you could finally feel the overwhelming pain that was lurking beneath the surface. Neteyam reached a hand out to you when he saw how wobbly you are, but winced when the gesture tugged at the needles of the IV fluids currently flowing inside his body. You grabbed his hand into yours as you plopped yourself to the ground, and he inspected you carefully, sorrowfully, frown lines so deep you thought they would never go away. His eyes fixated on the thick, unattractive loincloths you were dressed in, that were still dripping on the floor from your swim, and his frown somehow deepened at the blood that was clearly visible on the material and that had dried going down your thighs.

Your hands travelled all over his body, from the hand he reached out, up his arm and on his chest, over his every bruise and cut that was way underway to healing, to his navel and over his abs and up again, until they reached his neck and face, his face that clearly showed him awake and cognisant, clearly showed that he was back to you, back into your life that he was violently yanked away from, and seeing his expressions, his eyes, reminded you of the vacant ones he left behind that haunted your every moment, reminded you of his blood on your hands and Neytiri’s wails, of how every ounce of happiness and love just dissipated from you like water on a hot day.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” Your voice cracked in the middle of the sentence, and hearing that voice, so defeated and broken, so much like how you felt inside, was enough to push you over the edge, enough to make you sob aggressively in his chest, grateful to be able to do this again, grateful for the way his arms found their way to your back and hair, that he was caressing gently, his touch everything you have needed for days that felt like years, like lifetimes that you lost, that you would never get back.

“I’m here. I’m so sorry it took me so long, Atan. You’ve always been so much quicker than me, at everything. It always takes me a bit longer to catch up to you, but I am here. And I’m never leaving again, not without you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

It took a long time for Neteyam to manage to calm you down, but eventually your heartbeat lowered to an appropriate rate and your breath stopped feeling like it was burning your lungs and you were so dehydrated from crying that that also stopped eventually.

“I’m so sorry about your dad, Atan. So, so sorry. When I saw him in Eywa…” he couldn’t continue. “I am so sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you, so sorry you had to go through all this by yourself.”

“Neteyam… I am the one that needs to apologise. I have so much to be sorry for, so much that I need to tell you. I -“

“You have nothing to apologise for. Nothing. The fight, what I said, what you said, it was all wrong. It all came out wrong. And you know… when I left you then, I was so sad, so unmoored, like it was a problem that we would never be able to solve, but then, as I watched Lo’ak leave for Payakan and knew that I would follow him into danger once more, no consideration for the consequences, no other thought outside of saving him, I knew it then you had been right to say the words you said. You were right. And if I want a family, if I want us to move forward, it has to come from me. I have to show you what you mean to me, that I’m here to stay, that I will keep myself safe as much as the people I love, so I can live to see my children grow up, the way I’ve always wanted to. So I am sorry. And I will be ready when you are, whenever that is. Whatever it is, we’ll brave it through together, and I promise I’ll be here for you, and I will be more careful.”

You had no idea how much you needed to hear those words until they left Neteyam’s lips, but as you did, your whole heart lit up from within, and the light that shone through the cracks helped mend them, helped heal it, helped put it back together. You would be ok. You and him, you’d be okay. As long as you had each other, there’s no storm you couldn’t weather, including parenthood.

“I need to tell you something. And I fear when I do, you’re going to hate me. And I’m so sorry. I am so sorry that it happened, because it took it happening for me to realise that I am ready, that I am not afraid anymore.”

“What is it, Atan?”

He struggled to sit up so you could be face to face, and despite your wordless protests, you helped, heart throbbing at his proximity, and his presence that enveloped your own like the warmth of a sun, and when it was done, you sighed and continued, feeling soothed by his thumb tracing your lips and the white luminescent freckles on your cheeks.

“When the ship attack happened, the fight with the humans, the effort it took to get my dad away from it all, the stress of losing you, the effort of bringing you back… there was so much pain in me, pouring throughout my whole body, but I thought that was just from all the wounds, both physical and emotional, all the wounds I had to withstand in such a short amount of time. B-but…” You choked on your words, hoping and praying that by swallowing them whole you wouldn’t have to utter them, not have to say them out loud, not to him. Your hand involuntarily went to your abdomen, that you stroked mindlessly, and when Neteyam’s eyes followed your movement, a look of terror grazed his face.

“I found out… I was pregnant. We were pregnant. The little being we wanted, the little bean I was so scared of, it had been there, and I didn’t even know. I didn’t even know until the stress and the pain and all the loss and grief running through every inch of my being took it away, away from me, away from us.”

Admitting this to your mate was somehow even harder than you thought it would be, and you found yourself once again collapsing on his chest, once again pushing out tears from a body that felt like it had very little water left to spare, but still it gave you its last remaining sources for this, knowing you needed it, knowing there was nothing else there, but the tears, to drown the emptiness you felt in your body, in your womb.

Neteyam was reeling at your words, so much shock and pain, no amount of painkillers pumping through his veins could keep up, could ever numb this feeling down. But, as he watched you suffer, convulsing with each sob that escaped you, he realised the grief he felt was for you, for how much you had to deal with, power through, all alone. To know that this is what was happening while he was revelling in a fantasy land with all of his heart’s deepest desires come alive, it killed him. The guilt he felt ate him alive and left only scraps in its wake, enough for birds to peck on until only the bones were left behind. He should have been here, should have helped you through this, you should have been able to mourn the loss together, feel its unbearable weight together. He felt tears gather in his eyes and spill down his cheeks and neck, looking at your thighs that were smeared in your blood, just like your loincloth was, knowing what caused it.

“Please, please don’t hate me. I am so sorry. When they told me, I realised how much I wanted it, how much, despite everything I said to you that day, nothing would have made me happier than to watch myself get bigger each day, than to watch you beam with pride at the thought of being a dad, than to watch us trying to figure out how we’re going to do this, than to know no other baby has ever been so loved, so spoiled, so cherished as ours would have been.”

The tears were unrelenting, hearing your pleas, laced in anguish and terror. He took your face in his hands gently, moving it away from his chest, that was now soaked in your own tears.

“Atan, look at me. Please? Please look at me. You crazy girl, how can you ever, ever think I could hate you? What am I supposed to hate you for? Because you fought on the ship? Because you tried to save your dad? Because you worked tirelessly to bring me back home? What kind of person do you think I am?”

Your sniffles were all that could be heard in this tent that has seen so much, too much, too many tears, too much pain and grief, that would be forever plagued by the Sully’s misfortunes, but that Neteyam was adamant to change. He was adamant that the tides were turning, and that the only cries it shall ever hear again were those of pure, unadulterated, incandescent happiness.

“Come here.”

His hand wrapped gently around your throat and the action made you gasp, but he pulled you towards him gently until your lips met in a kiss that promised to heal you, to mend all these unconquerable torment and reshape it into hope and wonder. He was desperate for your touch, desperate to feel you, desperate to make up for time lost and past gone, but he wanted to wait - you both needed to heal, to mourn together and move on, and right now, you both needed to fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Neteyam woke up groggy in light of last night and all the drugs being pumped in his body, but as he felt your back snug against his chest and heard your soft breaths, his mind cleared and focused, and he was able to notice the rest of the world around him, such as his dad’s snores and Lo’ak’s senseless sleep-talk, as well as Tuk’s little body tucked in yours, as you held her tightly in your arms. He really felt the need to get up, and stretch his legs. He felt the need to see the sea, to breathe in fresh air and watch as the nature surrounded him, as the Metkayina got up and ready for the day. He missed it, he realises. Missed all of it. It was great to be back in the clearing, and have you, and see the two babies, but waking up in your arms, with your pheromones inundating his senses, seeing his family share his space, seeing people exist outside of him and his problems and grief - he missed it and he was happier by the second to be able to experience it again.

It didn’t take a lot of movement on his part for you to stir in your sleep and open your eyes, immediately turning your head to look for him, almost as if you were trying to make sure he was still here with you. He smiled a little at your panicked expression and the frown that melted as soon as your eyes locked, and the smile you gave him, wide and serene, with your fangs poking through, made him finally understand what you meant when you told him humans say being in love feels like having “butterflies in your stomach”.

“Good morning, yawne. God, it feels good to say that again.”

“Do you think we can go outside? Just you and me?”

You looked at him with a flicker of concern, but nodded softly. You turned around and patted Tuk awake gently.

“Tuk-tuk, I need to go, can you please go sleep with your parents, baby?”

Tuk whimpered a little, but almost sleep-walking, made her way in between his mother and father and instantly fell back asleep. You both snickered at the sight and he wished silently he could sleep that easily.

You got up, wincing a little as you did, which Neteyam dreaded, and carefully removed the needles in his body. You held out both your hands to help him get up, and he felt grateful for your help as he realised he could barely move his body by himself anymore, deep pain and numbness throughout his entire being. It took a long time and a lot of effort to get him outside, and he felt ashamed about it, embarrassed at the strain required to do the most basic things. Neteyam prided himself on his physical prowess, something he had worked for his whole life. He was strong, powerful, he was quick and agile, he was fast and limber and right now, he was none of those things.

With a sigh, he lowered himself on the edge of the platform, allowing his feet to dangle in the water, that was warm against his skin, a big difference to the ice cold water of the river in the clearing.

“It’s going to take a while, my love. For both of us.” He noticed your hand moving once again to your lower abdomen, almost a necessity at this point. You did it so often, without even thinking about it. He pressed his hand on you, as well, imagining a little kick meeting his touch, imagining the swell of your belly as life grew inside of you. He was so sad about it, but tried not to dwell on it, as he knew this wasn’t meant to be, and when it was, it would make the experience even more meaningful in light of everything you both have lost.

“Does it hurt, Atan?”

You nodded weakly. “The physical pain I can deal with. It’s everything else that hurts more.”

“I know. But you are the strongest person I know. And if anyone can do this, it’s you. And I'm here. You don't have to do this alone.” He struggled lowering his body so that his head rested on your lap, but when he did, the comfort it provided alleviated any pain and frustration in his heart. He nuzzled his nose against your belly and pressed small kisses all over, and you laughed softly as they tickled you slightly. Your hand found his hair that you stroked rhythmically until he was so relaxed, he was on the brink of slumber once more.

“I think it’s time for you and me to go back home.”

“What?”

Neteyam’s astonished tone made you giggle a little, and you almost didn’t recognise yourself or that sound, having been so long since you last heard it.

“I think we should go home. I think it’s time.”

“Atan… we can’t go home, you know that.”

“Yes, we can. We left because Jake wanted to keep us and the village safe by hiding. But they found us. We’re not safe, and we can no longer hide. And if we’re going to fight, if we’re can’t hide anymore, I’d rather do it back home, where you and I belong, where we’ve always belonged.”

“Neteyam… your last words were ‘I want to go home’. You want to go home, and so do I. Neither of us wanted to leave to begin with. We belong there, with the Omatikaya. Our children belong there. Our children will learn the ways of the forest, they will learn to hunt and shoot a bow and arrow, they will learn to climb the trees and the Iknimaya, they will get their own ikran, just like we did. I love this place, and this clan, I really do, and it will always have a special place in my heart. And we will visit. We will have to, considering our brother will be their Olo’eyktan one day.” You chuckled again at the though of Lo’ak, his newfound love for this clan and the chief’s daughter, and how even in this way, he is a carbon copy of his father.

“Shit. I never thought about that.”

“But our place isn’t with them. And that’s okay. Sometimes growing up is knowing what works for you and what doesn’t, and knowing when to let go of the people you love, for them to be able to grow and evolve on their own, and for you to be able to do the same. You’ve held on to Lo’ak your whole life, clung on to him, and on a quest to protect him, you lost your life. Lo’ak’s always felt alone back home, and he always felt like an outcast, but here, he’s free at last. Having found Tsireya and Payakan, he found himself as well. He’ll made a great Olo’eyktan one day, but in order to do that, he has to not feel like he’s always living in your shadow, in my shadow. So let’s just go, you and me. Let’s go home.”

Neteyam’s mouth was agape in surprise and shock at your words. He struggled to comprehend what you were saying to him. Go home. Their home, their real home. They couldn’t do that… could they? Neteyam resigned himself months ago in knowing his home was a long forsaken dream, that he might never see again. He resigned himself in knowing he will never be truly himself again, in knowing he had to live without an integral piece of what made him who he was, an Omatikaya warrior, rider of banshee, son of the Olo’eyktan and Toruk Makto, future Olo’eyktan himself. You said once humans had a saying, that home is where the heart is, and he felt that way most times, content in life as long as he had his family by his side, you by his side. But he didn’t agree fully to it - home was also where your clearing was, home was where he imagined his children being born and raised, home was in the trees and in the Hallelujah mountains, home was night rides with Seze and Neyn, home was where the Palulukan and Yarik and Talioang and Pali were, home was all of those things and more. And to have a chance to live in it again, have a chance at making his dreams and childhood fantasies come true, it was incredibly enticing, so much so his heart ached instantly just at the fleeting thought of it not happening.

But how would it even work?! How would he ever be able to leave his family, his brother behind? His careless, stubborn, loving, amazing brother that he has spent every day of his life with, that he watched grow up so much in the mere few months they were in Awa’atlu, that finally felt like he had found his place, and Neteyam winced at the realisation him and his baby brother didn’t share the same idea of home. It pained him to admit that you were right, as you always seemed to be. Lo’ak’s home was here. The sea was his home, the sea would be his children’s home, before their birth and after their death, and Neteyam would have to watch from a distance, and get glimpses of the man his brother would grow up to be in time. He felt tears pricking painfully at his eyes. He was happy, so happy for him, that he finally found a place, found a family in Tsireya and Payakan, but he was saddened by the thought that, in the end, that family wasn’t him. Growing pains fluttered through his entire being as he realised childhood was over, and it was time to grow up, it was time to step up and be the adult that was needed, that would be able to take care of his own family, of his children and his mate.

When you were younger, Neteyam saw you read a book that you loved dearly. Neteyam would listen intently as you talked about it, as you read him passages from that book and one of them always stuck with him as he made his way through life. He always wondered what it meant.

“You will find little joy in your command. But with luck, you will find the strength to do what needs to be done. Kill the boy. Kill the boy and let the man be born.”

Now he understood. He finally understood that his death was the death of innocence and childhood, and it was time to let it go, and let new beauty, new life peer through, for new happiness to shine.

“Let’s go home, Atan.”

════════════════════════════════════

It’s been a few weeks, and Neteyam felt himself getting stronger by the day, in no small part due to Norm and Max and their infinite patience in helping him heal, in helping him be able to slowly move his body again, his shoulders and arms. They said the journey to recovery would still be a long and strenuous, but that in time, he should be able to get the full function of his muscles again, and be as good as new. In those weeks, Neteyam watched blissfully as you were getting better, too, the bleeding close to completely gone. It was time. Time to talk to his family and let them know of the decision you two made, that only solidified in his mind in time. It was the right decision, the only decision. He wondered briefly if his parents would think the same.

It was a good as time as ever, as the morning light beamed through the marui and filled it with warmth and patterns moving with the wind on the ground. It’s been a peaceful, calm few weeks and everybody could tell, the atmosphere serene and filled with laughter as his mother and sister were preparing breakfast for everybody. Neteyam saw you give him a pointed look, raising your eyebrows in their direction, and with a small sigh, trying to work up the courage, he cleared his throat and spoke.

“Ahem… everyone, there is something we wanted to tell you.” His heart started booming in his now healed chest as his whole family turned around and watched him intently.

“What is it, ma’ itan?”

He felt comforted by the feel of your fingers intertwining with his and the little squeeze that followed.

“We’ve thought about it for a long time, and Neteyam and I want to go back home, to the forest.”

His father’s mouth dropped, as did the rest of his family’s, and his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration as he sighed loudly and shook his head.

“Kid… we’ve talked about this.”

“No, Jake… we haven’t. We made this sacrifice because we thought it was the only way. We thought we were protecting the Omatikaya, the Na’vi, we thought by hiding we could keep this family safe. It didn’t work. The humans found us, the humans took so much from us. There is no hiding anymore, and we want to go where we belong, where we’ve always belonged.”

“Dad… I know this comes as a surprise. But we are doing this. My whole life, I have spent giving up pieces of myself, pushing down my feelings and my desires, in order to be the version of myself I thought you wanted. The version of myself that I thought this family needed, the clan needed. But I’m no longer a child anymore, and no longer the future Olo’eyktan. I died, dad. My mate lost a baby, my baby, and I wasn’t even there. This will never happen again, I won’t let it. I want to be a good father, a good mate - like you are. I want to raise my kids in the forest, I want to fight for my clan and for my people that have raised me, that I have sworn to protect since the moment I passed my Iknimaya, since the moment I knew I was the son of the Toruk Makto.”

Neteyam looked at Lo’ak, who looked sad and angry.

“I want to make it clear that I don’t expect anyone else to join us. This is something we have to do, but brother, you don’t. You… you’ve grown so much, Lo’ak. I watched as you found your place in this world, as you found your mate… your brother. The sea gives and the sea takes. You taught me that, brother. It took the forest away, and it took me away, but it gave you so much, and will continue to give you… strength, and a purpose… a family. And I will watch you become the man I always knew you could be. And when you become Olo’eyktan one day, I will know you are the best Olo’eyktan this clan has ever seen. A mighty warrior. A good leader.” Lo’ak’s face changed into a misshapen mess, trying to maintain his composure and not let the tears inundating his eyes fall, the way they were threatening to. Neteyam moved closer to him, patting him affectionately on the head.

“I’m so proud of you, Lo’ak. And I’m so sorry if my existence ever made yours more difficult. It’s hard for me to think of you as anything else other than my baby brother, but you are a man now. And it’s time to let you go. And I can’t wait to see you again, and get to see your incredible future unfold in front of my eyes.”

Lo’ak said nothing as he slapped Neteyam’s arm away and pounced on him in a rib-shattering hug, and he was pleasantly reminded of the thousands of times his baby brother has done this when he was younger, back when his love for Neteyam was obvious and manifested itself physically, back when they were inseparable. Neteyam circled his arms around Lo’ak and patted his back and Lo’ak let out his sadness and frustration, years of pent up resentment and anger, years of feeling inadequate and isolated. They both needed this. The rest of his family quickly joined into the hug and Neteyam felt suffocated as his siblings and parents squeezed the life out of him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. It was time for all of them to heal, for all of them to grow.

You took Spider’s hand in your own, the two humans who didn’t quite belong anywhere, but who had a family they loved and that loved them and you watched the beautiful moment unfold in front of you, happy tears slowly falling down your cheeks, your other hand resting, as it always was these days, on your belly, mindlessly caressing it. Being here, in Awa’atlu, surrounded by the endless ocean, has been painful for you, filled with emptiness and grief and loss, but oh-so-necessary. It had been something you all needed to go through, a time of discovery and growth, a time to break and a time to heal. You realised with a small smile that Tsireya was right.

Water connects all things. Life to death. Darkness to light.

You were almost done. Most of yours and Neteyam’s stuff was now safely tucked in Norm and Max’s helicopter, deciding you would give Neyn and Seze some freedom to fly as wildly and freely as their hearts desired. Both of the ikran were playing with each other in the airspace above you, their happiness so clear it was palpable. Seze was hard to budge from Neteyam’s side, so protective and desperate to ensure he wasn’t going away again anytime soon, so much so Neteyam had to order her away to play with Neyn. It turns out, Kiri has also been feeling similar to you and Neteyam, and despite how much she enjoyed being here, how much she enjoyed the water and the new flora and fauna, she too missed home, and her grandmother, and her Tree of Souls. So you watched as she said goodbye to her parents and to Lo’ak and Tuk, and held Spider’s hand as she put the rest of her stuff in the helicopter.

It was a bittersweet moment. The whole clan was here to bid you goodbye, and you started with Ronal and Tonowari, that you owed for eternity for the way they took you in, for the way they give your dad his forever resting place. You approached them slowly and thanked them the best way you knew how, with an “I See You” and a ceremonial bow, that quickly turned into a hug when that felt like not enough to impart all the feelings you held inside. It was strange to them, and a bit out of place, but Tonowari was quick to adapt and reciprocate, while Ronal was ever the stoic, although she did wrap one arm around you in a moment of uncharacteristic affection.

“Thank you. We will both miss you dearly.”

“Don’t be a stranger, nantutetsyìp (little human).”

“I won’t. We won’t. We will be here so often, you will get tired of us.” Tonowari laughed while Ronal rolled her eyes, but a small smirk was still apparent on her beautiful face. You reached a hand over to her belly, that you touched softly.

“I can’t wait to meet this little baby. I will be her favourite aunt, that’s a promise.”

You moved on to Ao’nung and Rot’xo, that you punched affectionately in the chest.

“Take care of my baby brother and sister. Or I will come back and I will show you how us forest people handle conflict.”

You hugged them both, and were surprised to see the hint of sadness in their eyes. You will miss these knuckleheads.

There was no hint in Tsireya’s eyes, as she was full blown crying in Lo’ak’s chest, and you had to pull her away from him so you could look at her and remove her tears with you thumb as you caressed her beautiful face.

“Don’t cry, sister. We will see each other again soon. You have to visit, you have to come to the forest and see our home, you have to climb the Iknimaya with us. And when you come, I will show you the labs, and I will quiz you on all the English that Lo’ak should be teaching you. I don’t want you falling behind on our lessons, ok??”

“Yes, sister. I will miss you so much, I wish you didn’t have to go.”

She gave you two beautiful shells, almost identical, turquoise and dotted in white bioluminescent freckles, just like she was, and placed it tightly in your hand.

“This is for your songcords. Both you and Neteyam have a place among us, you always will.”

“Thank you, Tsireya.”

You turned your full attention to Lo’ak, who was once again, contorting his face so as to not appear weak in front of the girl he loved, and in front of the girl he used to love.

“Take care of her, Lo’ak. And of yourself. You don’t have us to save your ass anymore, so you have to be your own older brother now, and Tuk’s. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Angel.” You were proud of how well you handled it, no tears up until now, but as you looked in the eyes of your best friend, of the boy who got you and your humanness in a way no one else really did, not even Neteyam, who shared your sense of humour and wild streak and your inclination for cheesy old school movies and TV shows, you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Be safe. And visit, ok? And don’t forget us while you enjoy your endless walks on the beach and adventures with your new brother. Me and Neteyam still got dibs on you, do you understand?”

“Yes, Angel. I’ll miss you so much.”

“Me too, baby brother.”

Finally, you moved to Neytiri, Jake and Tuk, who both decided they would move between the forest and the reef, so as to spend equal quality time with all family members. They had no more responsibility, no more weight on their shoulders, no Olo’eyktan or Tsakarem duties anymore. They could just be for a while, enjoying the peace while it still lasted, and you were happy they could finally be free, at least until the humans decided to strike yet again. But the victory at Three Brothers Rocks definitely put a dent in their plans and budget, and you knew it would be awhile until that were to happen. You had time. You all had time.

“We’ll be home soon, ok, kid? It would be great if you could clean the tent for us beforehand, ha!” You rolled your eyes at Jake, but laughed as you hugged him. “Enjoy retirement, pops.”

You moved onto Neytiri, who was so happy to know you were going home, and that so was she soon, ecstatic to see her mum again, to see the forest again.

“Don’t take too long, sa’nok. Mo’at will not be happy to be kept waiting and I can’t live without Tuk for too long.”

“We won’t, ma ‘ite. Be safe. Eat well. Don’t strain yourself, you are not fully healed yet.”

You smiled at her motherly ways that she was never able to fully disconnect from, that you never wanted her to, especially when they were directed at you. “Will do, ma.”

You kneeled on the soft sand to take Tuk in your arms as held her as she cried.

“We’ll see each other again very soon, my baby. Don’t be sad, you know I would never leave you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise, baby. Come here.”

You held on to your mate as you said one final goodbye to everyone, and then climbed onto Neyn and connected your queues, feeling her excitement overwhelming you at the thought of going home. I know, girl. Me too.

You felt your stress and anxiety melt away with every kilometre you got closer, with every tree that came into focus, until it completely melted from your bones at the sight of the forest in the distance. You looked at Neteyam, who was smiling widely, relief so transparent and obvious on his face, and you laughed at how it was mirrored on Kiri and Spider’s faces as well. You felt free. Free at last. You knew they did, too.

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Neteyam woke up like from a reverie, like from the vision in Eywa, back in your tent, in both your tent, and felt like he was floating. He looked at the fabric and counted all the dots in it through which light blinked carelessly, and felt warmth envelop his body as he tightened his grip around your sleeping form. It’s like he never left. Your home looked exactly the way you left it, both of you having spent a few days getting it back to this point. He glanced around, at the bows now back in their stand, at the quivers and the guns, and he hoped it would be a long while before they had any use for them again. He looked at your desk, and smiled to himself at how you did a happy dance at seeing them all again and having it all back, all the books your mother spent her whole life collecting and keeping close to her heart. He peered at the mirror you looked at every morning before you went outside, and the two songcords that were back where they belonged, hung on it, one on top of the other. It was hard to picture the life he left behind, hard to imagine the reef as anything but a dream, a hallucination.

As he pressed a small kiss on the top of your head, he saw you turn to face him, wide golden eyes and pearly whites the only thing he could focus on as he took you in, in all your unbelievable beauty. Your gaze turned primal as you continued to look at each other, need enveloping you both like a thick blanket you wanted to get lost under. It’s been so long, so long since he had you, so long since he took you, so long since he claimed you the way he knew you craved, the way you both craved. You both found solace in each other’s bodies, in the way your individual needs were only met in each other - his need for control, your need to relinquish it. Even in this way, you were perfect for each other, made for each other. You were his match and he was yours.

His cock throbbed in need, in desperate need to fill you to the brim until you were dripping in cum, until you were swollen and sore, until you were begging him to stop while pushing him deeper in you. It drove him mad, your look, the way your pheromones were flooding his nostrils, the way the sound of your pounding heart matched the twitching of his hard member, the way the smell of your arousal was so thick, sweet and floral, he could feel it on his tongue.

It took every scrap of self-restraint in him to not rut into you like a feral animal, but he had other plans and the surprise he had planned had to take precedence.

“Atan… I need you to be a good girl for me and wait until tonight… can you do that?”

You whined as you threw a leg over his hips and started grinding yourself slowly on him.

“I have had to wait for weeks. Weeks, Neteyam. Weeks in which the only thing I could think of is your cock so deep in me I start to see stars.”

Neteyam growled, a deep guttural growl and removed your leg from him.

“You’re gonna make me fucking crazy, Atan. But if you are a good girl for me, I will make it worth your while. And I will indulge your every whim… All. Night. Long.”

You threw your head back and moaned, and after thinking about it for a while, you eventually relented.

“You better make it worth my while, or I’m gonna have to start without you.”

He shook his head and kissed your nose affectionately. “I love you, my crazy, insatiable fiend.”

Your patience was not one of your more formidable attributes, Neteyam thought tiredly as he was helping you onto Seze, a big frown on your face. You were definitely needy and desperate, and have been the whole day, which made it Neteyam’s day hell, having to push you away every 5 minutes, having to keep a level head for the both of you. You’ve been asking him about the surprise the entire day, testing his patience that he felt like he had infinite supplies of at the moment, thankfully. Eclipse finally settled and the mountains glowed with iridescent hues, that Neteyam made a mental note never to take for granted again.

“Are we going to the cave? Or to the clearing? I thought we couldn’t really go to the clearing again?”

Neteyam sighed for what felt like the millionth time today, and got behind you on his ikran.

“You are a pain in the ass sometimes, you know?”

“But I’m your pain in the ass, remember?”

Neteyam made Seze land deep in the forest, in a place that was very familiar to both of you, and he knew you would know where you’re going as soon as you saw it.

“So we are going to the clearing. I knew it.”

He grabbed your hand in his and intertwined your fingers, his other hand moving to your jaw as his lips closed over yours. You moaned and immediately deepened the kiss, to which he laughed.

“We’re almost there, Atan. Come on.”

You growled and threw your head back, but followed him without saying another word.

You knew you were being annoying. You could feel yourself being annoying, but you couldn’t stop, not when you have been unhinged with need the whole day, the whole month, since before that fateful ship attack and all throughout both your recoveries, throughout the journey back, throughout settling back in the forest. You still didn’t know what this was. You knew it was a surprise, but you didn’t know what it was or why it was. You were pouting now, walking pointedly towards your clearing, and you tried to relax and get excited about the fact you haven’t seen this place in so long, way before you even left for Awa’atlu, out of fear that humans might find you here and take you away.

You looked around you, at the beauty of the forest and the glow surrounding you, at how your each step was illuminated by the ground your feet were touching, and the howls and sounds of the nocturnal creatures coming out to play, the soft hum of the insects and the chirping of the birds. You loved all of it, missed all of it so much, a symphony that felt like that background music to your life’s story. As you pushed past the trees into your clearing, you gasped, the breath knocked out of your lungs at the sight. A red woven blanket was placed on the ground, pillows and covers enticingly waiting for you to snuggle in. You stared in awe at the huge holographic screen projected over the river, currently stopped at the introduction scene of Pride and Prejudice, your favourite book, the one you still had by your bed in the tent, the one whose covers were falling apart at the seams.

“Neteyam… what is this?”

“It turns out, believe it or not, that I have been lucky enough to call you mine for a whole year now. Actually, it’s been a lot longer than a year, but our actual anniversary fell at a bit of an inopportune time, since you know… I was dead. And afterwards, we were both reeling, and grieving our loss, and healing our bodies, and when you told me you want to go home, I knew I should wait and do this properly. And so this is what I’m doing.”

“I wanted to thank you, Atan. I don’t think I say this enough, but thank you. For having been my light since the moment I was born, until the moment I died, for guiding me back home, to you, every time I lost my way. For giving me a reason to be better - a better friend, a better sibling, a better son, a better man, a better mate. My whole life, I have looked up to you. My whole life, I saw in you the person I knew I wanted to be worthy of one day. I have watched, in awe, every day, as you became the most intelligent, caring, incredible, beautiful person in this world, a person who struggled so much, and went through so much grief, a person who carried so much darkness inside, and yet managed to emanate only light all around you, in everyone’s life. I have watched you be my sister’s best friend and confidante, my brother’s shoulder to cry on, my baby sister’s hero and my parents’ biggest critic and supporter and every day, I grew more in love with you. I have been by your side my whole life, and not one moment did I not love you, did I not hope that I would never have to be parted from your side, for as long as I lived. You have been the woman I have been madly in love with since I was 15, and the woman I hoped and prayed could one day be the mother of my children. I am so eternally grateful for every moment I get with you, every moment I get to watch you, every moment I get to wake up next to you, I get to look at you and know that nothing will ever change between me and you, between this formidable happenstance we call our love.”

You were sobbing violently at his words, that made you feel so special, so loved and appreciated, that healed every hurt in your soul, that mended every crack in your forever broken heart, until there was only love, the love you felt for him, for your relationship, for the lifetime of memories you have made together, for the lifetime of memories you’re yet to make. He took you in his arms and held you, caressing you gingerly as you cried and sniffled in his chest.

“I have a gift for you. Actually, I have two gifts.”

“I thought this was the gift.”

“No, Atan.”

You removed your head from his chest and waited as he went to the blanket and removed two things from underneath the covers. The first was a book. You took it in your hands with a confused look on your face, that quickly turned stunned as you read the cover. Pride and Prejudice. It was your mum’s book, but the cover was different. It was new. Made of wood, the woodwork detailed and intricate, with flowers and patterns, as well as a carving of the Bennett house as depicted in the movie that was currently paused on the screen.

“This is actually cheating a little. This was the original gift I planned for your 17th birthday, that I never got to give you. I started the covers, but never got to finish them, and after I left, I thought I’d never get to give them to you. When we came back, I thought it would be the perfect time to finish it, and Norm and Max helped me bind the book. I know how much you love this book, and I know how sad you were that it seemed like it was falling apart. So hopefully now it will have a really long life, long enough to pass on to our kids, and their kids after that.”

You always wondered about your life, about how it seemed so out of balance, so filled with sorrow and pain. You realised now, as you’ve always suspected, that Neteyam was the counterweight. Your good karma. He was what made all the sorrow and pain bearable, what made this life worth living, still so unbelievably beautiful, and exciting, and good. It was him. He was your gift, the Universe’s gift for all you’ve had to suffer through. You had no words that could convey what this meant to you, what his words and the gestures and this night will always mean to you, so you just kissed him, hopefully able to convey it to him in this way. He chuckled a little as the kiss came to an end.

“You’re welcome, Atan. Here, your last gift.” He gave you a big cork board, and you recognised it faintly, it was a board that used to be in one of the labs you grew up in. Except now, it was filled with a collage of photos, photos that used to be hidden in your Pandora’s box, back in your old bedroom, where you kept all your secrets, all the things you were too scared to ever deal with. Photos of yourself as an infant, as a toddler, as a child. Photos of you and Neteyam, of your mum and dad, of the scientists, of the Sully family. And new photos, that you were seeing for the first time, of yourself, sleeping or hanging out with your siblings, laughing animatedly with Jake. Photos of you sleeping snug against Neteyam, photos that he obviously took in secret.

“When did you take these?”

“My dad has a camera that I use sometimes when you aren’t looking. Out of every human invention, I definitely think I like the camera the best. It’s amazing to be able to have these moments captured, forever. I have been collecting the pictures for months, and as we came back, I was able to print them in the lab.”

You looked at the gap that covered the bottom right quadrant of the board, and looked at him expectantly.

“That’s for all the new memories we’re going to make. It’s for when our children are born, for when we become aunt and uncle to all our little nieces and nephews, it’s for the amazing life we still have to live. I thought we could hang it in our tent, so you can look at it every day and be proud of everything you’ve achieved, Atan, of this incredible life you’ve led, that is only a tiny speck in the sky of the rest of our lives.”

You smiled up at him, still in shock at everything he did, and all the thought he always put in his gifts, at how much he loved you, at how much you loved him. He took the gifts from your hands and left to put them by the blanket, away from view.

“Do you want to watch the movie? Or… are there better things we could be doing beforehand?”

You looked at him through your eyelashes, your vision blurry from how badly you needed it, how badly you just wanted to be fucked, like it was the first time, the only time.

"I'll take that as a yes."

His eyes darkened, pupils so dilated there was barely any yellow left in them, and he stalked towards you like a predator, like you were his pray to hunt, to take, to kill. You were panting in anticipation, your frilly beaded loincloth soaked in your arousal, that has been continuously pouring out of you all day, so saturated it was trickling down your ass and thighs. You couldn’t believe this man, couldn’t believe he was yours, yours to keep, yours to admire, yours to fuck until you blacked out, forever. He only stopped when he was so close to you, his breath was fawning over your face, and his smell, his musky, woody scent hit you instantly, making your tempestuous need uncontrollable. You raised on your tiptoes to bring your lips to his, but he stopped you, wrapping his long fingers around your throat and squeezing until the air left your body and the asphyxiation made you dizzy.

“No, Atan. You’ve been a good girl so far, you don’t want to ruin everything at the last second, right?”

He let go of your throat and you gasped, the sudden burst of pleasure making you moan and push your thighs tightly together, as the throbbing deep within you was so intense it was starting to hurt.

“Fuck, Neteyam. Please, I just, I need you to fuck me. Please.”

“God, I love it when you beg. It drives me fucking crazy. You drive me crazy. I have needed to feel you, feel that pretty little pussy milk me, squeeze me, drench my cock in your cum for so long. I’m going to make you feel so good, Atan. I’m not gonna stop until you beg me to, until you’ve come so many times you pass out with my cock still deep in you. How’s that sound, mm?”

You were almost done just at his words, the power they held over you unspeakable, the power this man had over your body still astounding you, a year later. You had no words, just moans, but it was not good enough for him. His hand squeezed around you once more and you were gasping for air that wasn’t coming, not until he allowed it.

“I asked you a question, Atan.”

“Fuck. It sounds amazing, i-it sounds so good, Neteyam. P-please. Fuck.”

“That’s my girl.”

The hand that wasn’t tight against your throat went to the back of your head, taking a fistful of your hair and pulling roughly on it, until your head was thrown back, and you felt a dull sting of pain when his canines dug into your throat, until blood came out and you went feral at the feel of his tongue licking over it, at the thought of it coated in your blood. You were reminded that the remnants of your blood were still circulating through his body, another way through which you owned him, you possessed him just like he did you. He kissed you, roughly, tongue darting over your lips and you opened them, drove to the brink by the taste of metal, of your blood on his tongue, in your mouth. You moaned in the kiss and he smirked, and you knew he loved seeing you like this. Panting, begging, mewling like a little bitch, desperate for his touch, desperate to be fucked unconscious.

He lifted you effortlessly off the ground and knelt with you in his arms until he placed you on the blanket, your back loving the feel of the warm, fuzzy fabric. You reached behind you to grab a hold of your queue and brought it forward into his line of sight, and he smirked again as he did the same.

“You want to feel what you do to me? How fucking wild you drive me? How deeply you own me, how badly I need you, Atan? You want me to feel your mind going blank as I bottom out in you, as I lick every bit of the nectar dripping in between your legs? Is that what you want?”

“Yes, fuck. Yes. Please.”

“Good.” He connected your queues and the influx of feelings, of desires, of savage, untamed emotions was almost too much for you to bear, eyes rolling in the back of your head. It was his turn to moan and the noise sounded so much better coming from his mouth, his deep voice reverberating deep within you, driving you one step closer to release.

He skilfully removed your clothes and his own, leaving you with a glorious view of his incredible body, of his defined abs and bulging biceps, of the v-line that lead to his large, beautiful cock, rock hard and so swollen it was deep purple at the tip, slapping against his abdomen, leaking precum that you were dying to lick off it.

“You are so beautiful, Atan. You are fucking perfect. I can’t believe you’re mine. I can’t believe my luck. I promised I would make it worth your while, let me show you I keep my promises.”

He lined himself to your entrance, that was gushing in need, and you mewled as he teased you, slapping his dick against your folds, grinning like a devil. You arched your back and shut your eyes, deep frown lines on your forehead, that was already covered in a thick layer of sweat. He grabbed your jaw and pushed your head down to meet his wild gaze.

“Look at me. Look how I fill you up with my cock, Atan.” Your eyes drifted down to where your bodies met, and you struggled to maintain you gaze as each inch of him was being buried in you, eyes fluttering open and close, the feeling too much, too intense. You felt yourself being stretched to the brim, until the border between pleasure and pain was delightfully unclear, until his tip hit your cervix, until his girth pushed against your g-stop, until your walls were contracting at the sensation you have been deprived of for so long.

“Fuck, you take me so well. So, so good for me, baby.” He didn’t move, and you felt through the bond the intensity of his own feelings, so much love and care, so much need and desire in him and you waited, getting lost in this feeling, getting lost in the pleasure that so good, it was getting unbearable.

“Move, Neteyam. Please, move.”

“I need to feel you first, baby. I need to feel the way my cock stretches your needy cunt, I need to feel the way your walls are throbbing around me, I need to admire the bulge in your abdomen as I fill you up. Look at it.” He pressed where the little bulge formed by his impressive length was visible, and as he did, you somehow felt even fuller, and once again you felt the need to close your legs, to try to get some relief from the torturous wait.

Taking pity on you, Neteyam started a slow, maddening pace and he smiled when he saw tears in the corner of your eyes at how desperate you were. Without warning, he started rutting you like the little slut you were, like the way you have been begging for, and almost immediately your first orgasm washed over you with enough power to knock the air out of you and he didn’t stop, not when it was done, not until you came again, and again, and again, until tears were falling down your face and into your ears at how overstimulated you were.

“Neteyam, I can’t anymore.”

“Yes, you can, Atan. Come on, just one more and then I’ll fill this pretty pussy with my cum. Do you want that? Want me to fill you up real nice? Want to be dripping in my cum, want the whole village to smell me on you?”

At his words, at the picture he painted, you felt the pleasure coil in you again, and you knew this orgasm would hit you like a tidal wave, keeping you on the ground with no power to get back up.

“Y-yes, I want it. I want it so badly. I want your cum, fuck, I want it.”

“You want me to give you a baby? Want to make me a daddy?”

“Y-yes. Yes, I need it, need your cum in me, please.”

“Fuck yeah, baby. Take my cum, like the good little girl you are.”

You both moaned as you came, the liquids in you mixing and spilling out of you, over your ass and onto the blanket. You didn’t know if it was all you’ve had to endure, or how long you’ve been without it, but this was definitely the best orgasm you ever had.

“I agree.”

You laughed loudly, and looked at him affectionately.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I can feel you, Atan. I can feel the pleasure that washed over you, more intense than you have ever felt. I feel the same.”

He pulled out of you, and pecked you gently on the lips. As you were trying to get up on your elbows, he pushed you back onto the blanket and you fell backwards with a soft thud.

“Where do you think you’re going? I’m not done yet. I told you I will indulge you all night long, didn’t I?”

“Neteyam, are you not going to be happy until I pass out?”

“Isn’t that what I told you, baby girl? Did I fuck you dumb already?”

How were you still so turned on? How was your cunt still throbbing in need when you’ve lost count how many times he’s made you come already? You loved it when he was mean, such a stark contrast to the peck from earlier, to his usual demeanour, to his real, day-to-day self. You loved it, it made you squeeze against thin air, feeling the need to be filled once more.

His hands wondered over your whole body, over your breasts that he caressed and pinched until you whimpered, until his fingers were replaced with his tongue, the ministrations making you grind your hips against nothing, the noises coming out of your mouth more unholy with each second that passed you by, each minute that he was sucking and licking every inch of skin he could get his fingers and mouth on, until he reached your folds, still leaking a mixture of both your cum, that he lapped at like he had been starved, like this would cure the drought plaguing his senses. Your senses, on the other hand, were plagued by him and his skilled tongue, and the way it was pushing into you, sucking on your abused clit, until your walls were clenching once more. He pushed two fingers in you effortlessly, curling them to touch that spongy part in you that made you cry out in pleasure, and the stimulation was too much, the coil in you close to snapping again, your hips grinding on his face roughly. The animalistic moan he let out pushed you over the edge, and you squirted on his face, down his chin and nose and he laughed proudly as he licked it all off.

“That’s my good girl.”

“How about we watch a bit of the movie and then I fuck you again?”

You laughed as he made his way next to you and you cuddled up close to his chest.

“Yes…daddy.”

════════════════════════════════════

Your family was in a tizzy today, preparations unfolding all around you for your upcoming trip, that you were supposed to leave for any minute now. It wasn’t going to be a particularly long trip, but it was definitely an important one, one that had you giddy with happiness and excitement. You were already packed, the clothes, gifts and medical supplies once more tucked away at the back of Norm and Max’s helo, both of whom were accompanying you, as well. Although never quite part of the people, both of the scientists were honorary Na’vi at this point, their continuous support, love and care for this planet and all its inhabitants not gone unnoticed, even within the Metkayina clan, who have taken a liking to the two.

“Kiri, don’t forget the thing, the thing…” Jake was pointing aggressively on the floor at something by his daughter’s legs, and you laughed at how nervous he seemed. It was endearing and a little surprising, seeing how Jake was usually quite stoic and well put-together, especially when it came to his two boys. That has changed in the past few months since you returned home, the distance that always existed between himself and either one son or the other softening his rough edges, making him more open and affectionate to both of them. You guess it was true what they said, after all - absence does make the heart grow fonder.

With one last smile in their direction, you quietly exited the tent and got up on your ikran, who cooed softly in your direction. She has been particularly gentle and tender with you recently, and you couldn’t tell if her having laid tiny ikran baby eggs was the reason behind it, or just general happiness and gratitude at your decision to return her to her home. Either way, you were grateful, and so, so excited to meet her babies when they were going to be here, fantasising about the idea that her babies and your own would one day be united, the same way you were.

“Let’s go, baby girl. There’s one last stop I need to make before we leave.”

You got to the Tree of Souls easy enough, having visited so often recently you could make the trip with your eyes closed. You swore it would never be as long as it used to be for you to visit your parents, for you to keep in touch, to see them and talk to them, to make sure they knew they were missed and not forgotten. You wanted them to be part of your journey, in a way they never could before, and you were happy to say that regardless what was happening in your life, you came once a week without fail, nothing able to keep you away.

The cove wasn’t desolate, several Na’vi lost among the tendrils, connecting to their ancestors, to their loved ones, to people they lost. You greeted each of them, all of them looking at you almost in awe, at the girl whose parents came from the stars, who stole the Toruk Makto son’s heart, who cured an illness that pillaged from them, that took away so many Na’vi men, women and children, including some of the people that were being visited today.

You chose a part of the tree than was unoccupied, and connected your queue to one of the mauve tendrils swinging gently in the breeze. You were immediately transported in a place you were now very familiar with, your mother’s old house back on Earth. The humid heat hit you instantly, as did the smell of the ocean and the cold breeze that pushed sand into your nose and eyes, and you took a second to take it all in, as you always did, the beauty of Earth, so different and yet so similar to Pandora, always a treat, always worth the extra few minutes of reflection. You pushed the fence door and made your way to the house on the broken cobblestone path, and smiled as the sound of a piano playing could be faintly heard from inside. You didn’t bother to knock, and took your time walking through the narrow hallway, looking at all the photos that were hanging on the walls, a lot more than you remembered from your first visit, including new ones, one of you, human and grown up, in between your two parents that were smiling widely at the camera. Photos of you in the living room you were currently walking towards, playing piano and dancing with your father, propped with your feet on his as he swung you around. Photos of your mother rolling her eyes as she was caught mid-cooking, and a photo of your parents kissing on the beach, taken by you (you assumed) without them knowing. They were beautiful, so beautiful, just like they were.

“Bunny! You came!” Your mum got up from the couch as soon as you entered and ran to your side, hugging you loosely so as to not hurt you.

“Of course I came. Don’t I always come?”

“Yes, but we expected you in a couple of days.”

“I can’t come in a couple of days, ma. We are leaving for Awa’atlu soon, remember?”

“Ah, yes!!” Your mum face-palmed herself and you laughed at her. She was a little ditzy, you realised. You never realised that as a kid, but it was blatant now, more so by the week. Your dad joined in the laughter and came by your side, placing a small kiss on your cheek.

“Hi, love. Are you excited for the journey?”

“Eh, not for the journey, but definitely for the occasion. Thank you for the gift idea. He’s going to love it.”

“Of course, bunny. How often does Lo’ak get to take his Iknimaya and become a man?”

“Well, hopefully just the one.”

They both laughed in unison at your joke.

“I can’t believe how much he’s grown. God, he used to drive Jake crazy when he was a toddler, he would just run and run and crawl through tight spaces, where Jake could never fit through. He was an angel when Neytiri was around, but as soon as she left, he terrorised his dad. Poor Jake hasn’t had a good night sleep since the second Lo’ak came out of Neytiri.”

“Well, that hasn’t really chanced. But he’s bigger now, so he’s easier to catch.”

The laughter was music to your ears, and you dreaded knowing you’d have to leave soon and not see them for at least a week.

“Where’s little, puny me?”

“Don’t call her that.” Your mum frowned at you, and you snickered at her face. You and… well, you, got along fine most of the time, but you realised that you were incredibly annoying and having to see yourself every week made you more appreciative for Neteyam and his never-ending patience.

“She’s taking a walk on the beach. She loves doing that. She’ll be sad she missed you… and this little belly… I could just eat you, you know?”

“It’s not that little anymore.”

You placed your hands over your mother’s on your belly that was becoming exponentially larger by the day, and she squealed when she felt kicking meeting her palms.

“Oh my God, do you feel that?”

“Of course I feel that, mum.”

She scoffed at you, but she was too excited to rebut, too busy taking your dad’s hand and placing it where hers was. The baby kicked again and you winced, and felt the sudden urge to pee.

“I need to go. We have to leave soon. I’ll be back as soon as I can, ok? Tell her I said hi, and that she better catch up on all the songs I learnt after I died.”

“Bye, bunny. Say hi to Lo’ak and the rest of the family for us.”

When you came out of the vision, you felt arms circling you, and you smiled as Neteyam’s familiar scent filled your every sense.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Atan.” He was pressing small kisses down you neck, while his hands wandered on your body, from your breast, now full and barely covered by your increasingly small tops down to your belly, and he gasped silently when he felt the same kicking your parents did.

“He’s kicking! Oh, Great Mother, he’s kicking!” He took you by the shoulder and spun you around and you laughed a little as the action made you dizzy.

“We don’t know it’s a he yet, yawne.”

“I know.” You raised an eyebrow at him, but said no more, and watched as he lowered himself to your belly and looked at it in adoration, like he was venerating it, venerating you.

“Hi, ma ‘itan. Be gentle to your ma, deal? We don’t want to hurt her.” He showered you in kisses until you melted in his touch, and by the time he reached your face, you were panting and in need. Neteyam groaned as the smell of your arousal hit him.

“Atan, we have to get going, my dad’s already out of his mind with worry and excitement, and my mum keeps packing food, to the point the ikran are going to drown in the sea because of the overbearing load. We are the only sane ones in the family now, we have to act like it.”

You threw your head back and laughed heartily, at his words, and at his tone that sounded serious, not an ounce of humour in it.

“Fine. But when I’m hot and bothered for three days during the trip there, I don’t want to hear you complain.”

Suffice it to say you were late to get going.

════════════════════════════════════

As you spotted the familiar island of Awa’atlu, you heard the beautiful horn announcing your arrival, and felt emotion overtake your being at the thought of seeing your brother and Tsireya, as well as the leaders of the clan after so long. It’s been a few months since you have left, and although Neytiri and Jake have come here in that time, you have not. You were excited to see Lo’ak’s reaction at your news, and excited to watch him become a man, be born again as a member of the reef clan, that was now his forever home.

You saw him before making out anybody else, his deeper blue skin sticking out like a sore thumb among the Metkayina. You jumped off from Neyn before she even landed, and you heard Neteyam and Neytiri both hiss at your recklessness. You were too busy to care, running as fast as you still could and wrapping your arms around Lo’ak’s neck in a tight hug. The younger man was too stunned to say anything, so stunned that his arms remained motionless by the sides of his body.

“Hug me, you skxawng.”

“Angel…what?!”

You scowled at him until his eyebrows dropped and his eyes softened, his open mouth curling in a soft smile, one you knew too well, one you loved so much.

“Hi, Angel.”

“Surprise?”

He pushed you a little and kept you at arms length as he inspected you, placing a hand on your belly.

“How long have you been gone? You look like you’re about to pop.”

“You’re such a dick, Lo’ak.”

“I’m kidding, Angel. I can’t believe this. I’m so happy. So, so happy. This is the best present you could have ever gotten me.”

“Oh, ok, then, I guess I’ll just leave the solar-powered projector loaded with all your favourite movies and tv shows in the helo.”

“WHAT?! ARE YOU SERIOUS?”

“Why are you more excited about that than being an uncle??”

“Can I use the baby as a projector? Didn’t think so.”

“Sing for us, Angel. You didn’t bring your guitar all this way to keep it by your side all night.”

“Fine, but only if after, Tsireya can translate everything I sing.”

“Ha, she’ll kick your ass, you’ll see.”

“Hey, I might be pregnant, but I will still kick your ass if you keep annoying me.”

“I see the glow of motherhood didn’t do wonders on your temper.”

“Lo’ak… she will hurt you if you keep going.” Neteyam sighed, rolling his eyes in his baby brother’s direction.

“Fine, fine. Just sing, Angel, please?”

You looked at your mate who was eyeing you lovingly and strummed a song you knew he’d know, you knew he’d love. You saw his eyes go wide and then settled on a look of wonderment and euphoria, a look you’ve seen a lot of recently. You gave him a wink before you started singing.

We were in the backseat, drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar

"I rent a place on Cornelia Street”, I say casually in the car

We were a fresh page on the desk, filling in the blanks as we go

As if the street lights pointed in an arrowhead, leading us home

I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

It was a sweet reunion, one you desperately needed, and as you spent the night catching up by the fire, Neteyam’s arms wrapped around you and the sounds of your family laughing and chatting away filling your ears, you felt lucky for everything good in your life, that overwhelmingly outweighed the bad, and hopeful for the future and all the beauty it would bring with it.

Thank you again for this amazing journey. I love you all x

Taglist (thank you ily x) @changing7 @erenjaegerwifee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @winchestertitties @puffb4ll @rebeccao03 @ultimatebluff @cottoncandy23 @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @n3t3y4msm4t3 @loquatious-josephi-krakousky @eternallyvenus @fresh-new-yoik-watah @lu-the-ghost-reader @@miawastakens @mm0thie @fanboyluvr @amortencjja @lovekeeho @trixscarlett

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orangeboulevard · 13 days

Text

The Comforts I Find In Your Shadows

(Rick x Gojo, Gojo x Aragorn, Aragorn x Rick)

I can't even say I was double dog dared to do this because I wasn't. Also I haven't watched jjk I watched one video of Gojo for this amazing opportunity.

Words: 842

In a world ravaged by the undead, Rick Grimes had learnt that good things don't often come by but when they do, you better hold onto them.

Gojo Satoru was his good thing. Gojo was his best friend, his support through the hard times -when they were starving and dehydrated, burning under the summer sun, when Lori died and when they were being threatened and attacked by The Governor.-, he had saved his life countless amounts of times back when Rick was still a naive and wide-eyed sheriff from Atlanta and he was what was keeping him up in the dead of night. Those blue eyes stirred hot feelings in his lower abdomen, they were in his mind when he was gasping and whimpering, they were in his mind when he felt disgusted with himself afterwards.

He shook himself from his thoughts, they served him no purpose besides conjuring painful feelings of want and desire in his chest, and clambered out of bed, he was due for patrol around the perimeter of Alexandria in about twenty minutes which left him with just enough time to brush his teeth, change his clothes and grab a bite to eat before leaving the house. He rubbed at the stumble that was starting to break on his jaw as he breathed in the fresh air, this was something he had missed and would never take for granted again- waking up to a beautiful neighbourhood and feeling somewhat secure.

He greeted the few people that were awake and about their business at the early hours of the morning, one of these such people was Aragorn. Rick offered a friendly smile that was met with a respectable nod. Aragorn.... Aragorn was a tricky subject to approach, the poor man did not speak English nor any other language the residents of Alexandria spoke.

His steely grey eyes were aged by years beyond him, Rick guessed that they were around the same age- late thirties, early forties-. His rugged countenance was emphasised by his choices of clothing, archaic looking trousers and shirts- when he'd first arrived, he was wearing a cloak, an actual cloak. Rick figured that either when the apocalypse had started, Aragorn had been at a fancy dress party or Aragorn was some sort of LARPer, it made some certain degree of sense, the man did bear a sword on his hip at all times and his mannerisms were entirely bizzare- it may just be a mental disorder, however.

Rick found himself forced from his musings by a gentle touch against his lips, he flinched back as his eyebrows raised in shock and confusion. Aragorn was holding a strawberry to his lips with an expectant look. Rick couldn't help but break out in a smile, sure the man was... odd but he was sweet and he took his job as a gardener in Alexandria very seriously. Rick closed his lips around the strawberry as he took a bite, he missed the way Aragorn flushed and had to look off to the side.

Rick's eyes closed and he let out an involuntary sound of satisfaction, it had been too long since he'd savoured the sweet taste of a strawberry- another good thing he'd better hold onto. He opened his eyes to see Aragorn gazing at the ground beside him, Rick offered him the last of the strawberry and tried to convey how good it was with his bright grin. Aragorn pushed Rick's hand towards his mouth, taking the rest of the small fruit. Aragorn let a small smile paint his features, making him look a lot younger than he did normally.

Rick patted the man's shoulder before continuing on his journey to Alexandria's gate, he missed the way Aragorn's disappointed gaze followed his shrinking figure.

Gojo was there to greet him at the gate and Rick hoped to God his best friend couldn't hear how his heart sped up at the sight of him, the traitorous creature that it was.

"Rick! My student, there you are! I was starting to wonder if I'd somehow been scheduled for a double shit," Gojo joked as he ran a hand through his platinum locks, his eyes locked onto Rick's own behind his dark shades.

"Ahah, sorry, got caught up back there by Aragorn. Didja' see? He's got some strawberry plants goin' on, real ripe," he swallowed, why did every word seem to stick to his gullet and refuse to come out?

"Aragorn?" Gojo's voice became slightly higher, "No way! I gotta get some of those."

"Uh, yeah but befo-"

"Sorry, Rick, I'm just gonna go see Aragorn, I'll see ya later, buddy," Gojo playfully punched Rick's shoulder and Rick just grinned and nodded, hoping his disappointment wasn't too evident on his face.

Rick sighed as Gojo practically skipped off, he decided to concentrate on the task at hand: boring, monotonous walking around the whole of Alexandria.

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sheep-from-rad · 2 years

Note

Hi! So I just read sagau: a safe place and I had an idea. What if the creator/God reader have an abusive parents but they are still in the real world. Like the reader is playing genshin impact in secret. It's the readers only happiness when suddenly the abusive parents come into their room yelling insults at the reader or even hurting the reader while they were still playing genshin impact and acolytes can hear/see everything happening what would be their reaction ? You don't need to answer this ask immediately. Just an idea I had

SAGAU: One Way or Another Note: Hello again Hewos! Thesis is over and my body went shut down on me (literally made me sleep for 14 hours straight and I woke up even more tired). We’re back to writing! As per usual, requests are open. The inbox is open 24/7. I should probably change glasses as well, it only makes my head hurt now. Warnings: abusive parents, language and themes. Masterlist

Teyvat is never blind to whatever is happening around. It might be a silent, blissful ignorance to others but those who are connected with the divine don't feel the calm the normal citizens feel. Old scriptures described their god as someone with a voice that conveys reason, eyes that show kindness, and heart that brings forth warmth to all creatures around but the waters of Luhua pool shows a different kind of thing.

Their god bears blank eyes, devoid of happiness. Their voice, oh they have never once heard their voice clearly. It always comes out shaky and forced, as if they try to be silent to avoid whatever is around them. The waters of Luhua are sentient and because of that, it is able to feel the emotions the creator has. The acolytes were expecting it to flourish and bear living creatures but the waters only grew murky. The acolytes presumed that it was the abyss’ doing, trying to disconnect them from having awareness but an Abyss Lector named Enjou came from and asked why the waters in Enkanomiya are growing dark.

The acolytes’ word only grew and grew. They knew that scriptures from time to time could lie because of their own people’s beliefs (recalling Havria’s tale) and word of the mouth is not really trustworthy all the time. They tried finding problems to be solved in Teyvat but to no avail. It wasn’t until night fell in their creator’s world and some things started to make sense.

You pushed your sleeves higher in your arm as you finally finished all the assigned chores. One day those assigned chores will just end up being endless seeing how they just grow gradually everyday. One day for sure you’re just going to drop because of exhaustion and those tasks will continue to pile up. You checked the door once more, making sure it is not locked because it will cause more trouble if it is. You have your phone’s notifications and all sounds off so you can hear footsteps coming, if someone decides to barge at your door of course and then you can hide your phone.

The game finally loads, you hope that you can play a lot. You were greeted by your main dps that seemed to smile at you. 20 minutes, that is all that you need to finish all the commissions today. Ever since you reached the current AR ranks, your commissions became closer to each other and became more convenient and saved your time. Midway the third one, your door slammed open making you drop the phone to the ground.

“Didn’t I tell you to take out the trash?”

The acolytes who were gathered around to watch the pools were suddenly wide awake as a foreign voice resounded. It was a loud and angry one followed by the creator’s device falling down. It seemed to crack and it echoed like thunder. Thoma immediately noticed the atmosphere getting heavy and coaxed the children away from the pool.

“But I did, earlier.” Their creator’s timid voice replied.

“ARE YOU RAISING YOUR VOICE AT ME?”

With the help of Cloud Retainer, the view on the pool managed to be fixed showing their creator’s arm being held tightly by the perpetrator who bears the loud voice. “Talk to me when I ask you. Are you raising your voice at me?” They repeated firmly gripping the creator’s hand even tighter.

“I’m not.”

Their voice came out no louder than a whimper. The perpetrator sneered before letting go and slapping the creator’s arm harshly. “Pick up the trash you forget to take out and prepare ingredients for tomorrow’s guests. You will not get food until tomorrow’s dinner for insolence.”

The person left the room, leaving the creator standing there stunned. The acolytes’ question was answered and it was one of the answers that they didn't want. Their back is still turned from the view but they can see them slowly raising their hands up to their face. Are they crying? Teyvat knows these acolytes will wage war if they are.

You wiped the lone tear off your face before kneeling to pick up your phone. It had a crack on the side but the game continued on playing. Guess you can play later as you close the game and tuck the phone under the mattress.

As the view at the pool faded, Albedo found the traveller looking at him before nodding. If the traveller can invade their world, surely there’s a way to take their creator to Teyvat right?

Taglist: @chihawari @zurithegalaxywolf

#sagau x reader #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau #sagau brainrot #genshin cult au #self aware genshin #genshin self aware au #genshin impact cult au

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obwjam · 7 months

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HERE ME OUT- SPY KIDS G/T:

Ik me and you were talking about it and I may or may not have written something 🫣 it’s Giant Floop x normal size fem! Oc. For the reference, here’s the scene I kinda based it on except this happens way before- just imagine he’s in the room longer. Here’s the scene: https://youtu.be/qiJ-MsmpyXE?si=paXlpO9FTGQEIgly

Ngl hope y’all like this, enjoy ! :)

Alysia had embarked on a daring mission to infiltrate Minion's lair and rescue Ingrid and Gregorio Cortez. Her spy skills were legendary, and she had spent hours planning the intricate details of this operation. Silently, she moved through the dimly lit corridors, her steps soundless and her senses heightened.

Finally, she reached the door to the jail room where Ingrid and Gregorio were still held captive. She had carefully picked the lock, her nimble fingers working deftly, when suddenly the door swung open with a creak. Alysia barely had time to react before strong hands grabbed her, yanking her into the room.

Minion, with his sinister grin, loomed over her. "Impressive, Agent Guerrero," he hissed, his voice dripping with malevolence. "But did you really think you could outsmart me?"

Alysia's heart raced as she realized she had been caught. Ingrid and Gregorio, still trapped in their cell, looked on with a mix of hope and fear in their eyes. She had come so close to freeing them, but now, they were all in grave danger.

Minion's henchmen, the menacing Thumb-Thumbs, surrounded her, their mechanical thumbs whirring ominously. They seized her by the arms and held her firmly in place, her escape now impossible.

Defiantly, Alysia met Minion's gaze. "I won't let you win," she declared, her voice unwavering.

With a sinister chuckle, Minion gestured to his henchmen. "Into the virtual reality room with her," he ordered. "Let's see how she fares in there."

The Thumb-Thumbs dragged Alysia towards the digital portal, her struggles futile. She knew that Minion's virtual reality room held unpredictable and perilous challenges, but she had no choice but to face them head-on.

With a sneer, Minion tossed Alysia into the virtual reality room with brutal force. She tumbled through the digital portal and fell hard onto the virtual ground. Pain shot through her body, and disorientation washed over her as she tried to get her bearings.

As Alysia struggled to her feet, her surroundings began to shift and morph. The digital world around her seemed to come alive, and she felt a growing sense of unease. She knew she was trapped in Minion's sinister game, but she was determined not to give up.

Then, suddenly, she heard a massive, thunderous sound, and her gaze shot up. Floop, who had been imprisoned in this virtual world for reasons of his own, appeared before her, his giant form towering over her.

Alysia's eyes widened in astonishment and apprehension. Floop was nothing like the villainous image she had heard of. Instead, he seemed almost gentle in his demeanor, his expression carrying a mix of curiosity and concern.

Floop extended a massive hand toward Alysia, offering her help to rise. She hesitated for a moment, still unsure of her new surroundings and this unexpected ally.

As Alysia found herself in the virtual reality room after Minion's harsh toss, she was not only disoriented but also overwhelmed by the sudden appearance of the giant Floop. Fear coursed through her veins as she gazed up at his towering figure.

Terrified and taken aback, Alysia instinctively started to backpedal away from Floop. Her heart raced, and her breaths came in rapid gasps as she tried to put some distance between herself and this unexpected, colossal presence.

Floop, sensing her fear, took a step back, giving her the space she needed. His expression remained gentle, and he offered a reassuring smile, trying to convey that he meant her no harm.

Alysia's wide eyes remained locked on Floop, her mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. In this strange and unpredictable virtual world, she had encountered something beyond her wildest imagination, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and trepidation in the face of this towering giant who seemed so unlike the villainous tales she had heard.

As Alysia backpedaled away from the towering figure of Floop, her fear and uncertainty were palpable. She felt trapped and vulnerable in this unpredictable virtual world, and her instincts were telling her to keep her distance.

Just as panic threatened to engulf her completely, the ground below her feet started to crack and crumble. Alysia's eyes widened with terror as she teetered on the edge of a digital abyss. The virtual landscape was shifting beneath her, and it felt like the very ground was betraying her.

With a gasp of fear, Alysia stumbled backward, her footing giving way. She was on the brink of falling into the virtual void when, in a split second, Floop's massive hand shot out with lightning speed. His enormous fingers closed securely around her, preventing her from tumbling into the abyss. His grasp secure, but gentle.

Alysia's heart pounded in her chest, and her breathing came in heavy, ragged gasps as she lay in Floop's hand. She looked up at him from her precarious position, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and gratitude. Tears welled up in her eyes as she realized that he had saved her from a potentially disastrous fall.

"I... I'm so sorry," she stammered, her voice trembling with emotion. "I didn't know... I didn't trust you at first. Thank you for saving me."

Floop's expression softened even further as he gently cradled Alysia in his palm. He understood her initial fear and mistrust, and he nodded in understanding. With a warm and reassuring smile, he replied, "It’s ok Agent Guerrero, I’ve got you."

As Alysia lay in Floop's hand, her body trembled with a mixture of fear, relief, and uncertainty. The near-fall into the digital abyss had left her shaken to the core, and her entire being quivered with the intensity of the moment.

Her breaths came in shallow, rapid gasps, and her heart continued to race. Her wide eyes remained fixed on Floop, her gaze seeking reassurance in his massive, gentle presence.

Floop, understanding the depth of her fear and the physical toll it had taken on her, maintained his steady and reassuring hold. He offered her a warm and comforting smile, his immense hand cradling her with care against his chest.

"It's okay, Agent Guerrero," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm. "You're safe now. Take your time to catch your breath."

Alysia nodded shakily, her trust in Floop growing with each passing moment. In this digital world filled with unpredictability, she had found an unexpected ally and source of strength. As her trembling gradually subsided, she knew that together, they would face the challenges that lay ahead, fortified by their unique bond and their determination to confront Minion's sinister plans.

“Hey Floop? You can call me Alysia.”

😭😭😭 you are such an amazing writer it's INSANE this is so good. queen of soft and calming handhelds i'm thinking

#seriously your submissions give me LIFE #i love when we can talk about an idea and you just write a masterpiece about it 😍#read this three times already ahhhhh #asks

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sxxlol · 3 days

Text

the current ﹒⪩⪨﹒ 4/24

˗ˏˋayla's writing corner ´ˎ˗

sxxlol on ao3! go check out my cynonari fic, linked below.

working on: "and any way you choose me, you'll break instead" (cynonari longfic)

status updates: hihi! currently on chapter 5 of 'you'll break instead!' still in the drafting stage, i am on the first draft as of now.

chapter excerpt: "His strange, hollow laughing quickly turned to sobs, grasping at the red sand beneath him for any sense of stability, but even the ground here sifted uselessly through his fingers." (chapter 5)

announcements: BETA READER POSITIONS OPEN!!! ARABIC TRANSLATOR POSITION OPEN!!! please please reblog so i can reach more valuable candidates!!!!!

: ̗̀➛ i am opening up two beta reader volunteer (unpaid) slots! this is for a cynonari fanfiction, from cyno's pov in third person omniscent. it is a suuuper slow burn from strangers to lovers! scenes range from action/fighting to soft and intimate moments. the story is heavily lore based and i quite literally make shit up as i go... although i do have a general outline i would provide to interested candidates. now here are some requirements: > general knowledge of genshin impact lore, though willing to set it aside in some aspects as i have planned all of cyno's lore previous to the 4.6 update, when his second story quest comes out. > general knowledge of ancient egypt, as my story has very heavy egyptian themes and i am often researching niche details to make it accurate. do not worry about understanding everything, but a general idea of how ancient egypt worked is definitely required. > wide ranging vocabulary- i often use archaic words in my writing to convey a sort of ancient aspect to the story. i promise im not trying to sound like some elitist i just enjoy writing things like this. i take inspiration from madeline miller's writing because of how beautifully she portrays the ancient world, and this is something i hope to achieve as well. it would also be helpful if you could suggest synonymous words in your reviews! > insensitive to possibly triggering topics, which include the following- graphic depictions of violence, blood, death, physical abuse, verbal abuse, and subtle racist remarks (disclaimer: I AM NOT making racist remarks about any of the characters. I am writing about racism in the setting, because there is clearly animosity towards desert-born in the sumeru storyline. i want to explore every possibility, every topic- not because i enjoy writing about racism, but because issues like racism are prevalent even where they are not most obvious, and i want to expose that. i want to introduce moral conflict and image issues with the characters, because it makes it more realistic and relatable, especially for underrepresented groups). > this might be obvious, but a sincere enjoyment in the characters, fandom, and themes is definitely a requirement. if you lack enthusiasm in some of the topics, please do not send in an application. more info and any questions you have will be discussed after you send in a short application in discord dms (my user is sxxlol). just tell me a bit about yourself, including information like your pronouns, name, etc, so that i can properly speak with you! after that just include a brief description of what you like to write about, words to describe your writing style (optional), and your past works or current wips. please also provide excerpts or links to favorite works that YOU have written, which can include anything from a poem to a fanfiction. any other info pertaining to writing you have done or things you'd like to share, feel free to include it in your message! thank you so much, and that is all!

: ̗̀➛ i am opening one volunteer (unpaid) position for an arabic translator position! description: this position is super low demand! it is for a cynonari fanfiction i am writing, same as described above, and linked above. you do not necessarily have to have any knowledge about the fanfic, fandom, topics, etc. I just need an occasional title or phrase translation, which will be not too often. if it is possible to include the romanized- or in english lettering- version along with the arabic lettering that would be great. please though, only fluent speakers in both english and arabic apply for this position! i need to be able to communicate with you accurately. please message applications to me on discord dms (my user is sxxlol). thank you!

goodbye! ﹒⪩⪨﹒

#genshin impact #cynonari #cyno #tighnari #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #creative writing #beta reader #writers on tumblr #ao3 writer #female writers #i am tagging anything at this point because i am majorly desperate #sumeru

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deaenvs3000w23 · 1 year

Text

Me! An Interpreter?!

I believe an “ideal” interpreter be many things. It truly is a multi-disciplinary role; they must inspire what nature means to a wide variety audience! They are well-rounded in traditional knowledge and stories and have a role to guide and inspire others to think about nature! They captivate their audience, appeal to them, give facts and tell stories to encourage imagination (page 82-84).

My role as an environmental interpreter, ideally, would be to exit my comfort zone and post my photography, to inspire others to ask questions and use a different lens to view nature! I keep most of my photographs hidden, just for myself to see, but I feel photography could strike conversation about what I capture… nature. Afterall, a picture is worth a thousand words! I always took on ‘traditional’ science roles (research and learning), but never have I told a story accessible to the general population! This audience may not be trained to read these complex and sometimes confusing articles that are meant to be interpreted in the same way between individuals and don’t “help [a vast majority of] people understand the unusual and curious places […], trying to impart a sense of wonder in the mind of the perceiver” (page 90). I find many scientific articles are less about striking wonder in a variety of audiences and more about reporting findings. Although it is important to continue to learn and grow beyond classroom hours, I believe that my ideal role would be to move from fact and knowledge, to seeking patterns in nature and conveying theme in my work. Photography is a very powerful tool that can be seen by many who don’t necessarily speak the same language as me or who are less interested in academic jargon, thus allowing my “zone of tolerance” to be ultra-wide, provoking a large range of thought (page 87-88), helping people gain new perspectives, grow skill, and perception (page 90-91).

'Traditional Science' Research Lab

Photograph at my cottage on Rose Island

Tools that will help me as an environmental interpreter are factors that will help with my credibility, mainly confidence and diversity of vocabulary, AKA persuasion theory (page 93). This will influence the audience engagement. Communication is also a key component! Of course, I wouldn’t be able to just post photos, but I could also include facts, which avoid any controversial topics… politics and religion (page 94), that provoke thought and immerse my audience into photographs! I understand that there’s many ways an individual can learn so by achieving a multidisciplinary delivery of information and experiences, this widens my audience! I’m still working out how to include those who learn audially through photography (I’m open to anyone’s ideas!). The most important skill I may need, in my opinion, would be the ability to guide audiences to ask questions and inspire them while also still learning yourself!

Where? I hope around the world to capture moments of nature that can provoke conversation! I’m also loving blogging so far, so perhaps I could continue using this platform or try creating an Instagram profile and including captions on my work! I find that most of my photography are landscapes, but I would love to include more animals in the future, perhaps including their interactions with the landscape! Mainly, I would love to travel across Canada as I find great connection and beauty!

Until next time folks!

References

Beck, L., Cable, T.T., & Knudson, D.M (2018). Interpreting Cultural and Natural Heritage for a Better World (1st ed). Sagamore Venture.

#nature #learning #unit2 #photography

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coghive · 2 years

Text

The Worship Initiative’s John Marc Kohl To Release ‘Still’ October 7

Still, the full-length debut from Dallas-based singer/songwriter, worship leader and multi-instrumentalist John Marc Kohl, is set to release October 7 from The Worship Initiative. Hallmarked by a range of genre-spanning influences, Still delivers deeply vulnerable, autobiographical themes grounded in the promises of God’s unyielding faithfulness. Co-produced by Kohl and Will Hunt, with two tracks produced by Bryan Fowler (TobyMac, Newsboys), Kohl penned or co-penned the entire 12-song set, collaborating with such acclaimed songwriters as Fowler, Shane Barnard, Mike Donehey and The Worship Initiative’s Aaron Williams, among others. “The album is a remembrance of the faithfulness of God through various points of my life,” Kohl says. “The themes that have emerged are dependence, struggle and faith, and I hope people can get to know me through these songs. My story—warts and all—points to Jesus. Oh, how He loves me, still. In spite of habitual sin, still. In the midst of doubt and depression, still. When I succumb to my pride and a false sense of superiority, still. There is no fault, sin, or failure too great, too deep, or too wide for the perfect blood of Jesus to cover.”

Project opener “Tapestry” is a soulful pop groove celebrating God’s goodness. “A few years ago, I went through a very dark season of what I would call a spiritual depression,” Kohl shares of the inspiration behind “Tapestry.” “While it felt like a breaking to my core, much beauty and good came from the suffering. We won’t always understand pain, but I know that God doesn’t waste it as He weaves a beautiful story of mercy and grace. We see glimpses of His faithfulness now, but how I long for the day when I can see the entire picture of His goodness, the wonder of His tapestry.” Further exploring the thematic arc of God’s response to human pain and suffering, the album’s forthcoming single, “Desert Places” (feat. Demi Pyle), is slated to hit streaming platforms September 23. The poignant piano ballad conveys a desperation for renewal and healing as Kohl sings, “You meet me here/in the wilderness/You draw me near/and I’m comforted/I’m surrendering to Your embrace/seems You work best in desert places.” In addition, the emotive title-track showcases a Savior who never tires of pursuing His children. “’Still’ was one of the first songs I ever wrote about Jesus,” Kohl recalls. “I remember staying up until 3 am, crying and struggling through the writing of it. I was so angry with myself because of persistent sin in my life, and I felt like I deserved more punishment. I really couldn’t believe that Jesus would still love me after all the messes I’ve made; the wreckage of sin in my life; and the people I’ve hurt. I’ll never fully understand the persistence of His love for His beloved.” https://youtu.be/Qb5q7oRBhMw John Marc Kohl is a veteran worship leader, songwriter, and multi-faceted musician dedicated to glorifying God through music. An artist in residence at The Worship Initiative, Kohl and his wife, Lila, reside in Dallas. Founded by Shane & Shane’s Shane Barnard and Shane Everett—leading influencers of corporate worship around the world for nearly two decades—The Worship Initiative is an equipping ministry which features a library of hundreds of popular worship songs; team training materials; instrument tutorials; and song-based devotionals, among other offerings. The Dallas-based organization has released more than 30 albums to date, and its unique community of artists, songwriters and theologians seeks to be a catalyst for musical and spiritual growth in the Church. Read the full article

#TheWorshipInitiative

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lunaastoir · 3 years

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Hi! I really enjoy your writing so is it alright if i request xiao, diluc, childe with an idol s/o where one of their old stalkers come back or they just recently had a stalker in general but with how busy they were since they’re an idol they don’t even notice? And something bad happens (i cant think of anything</3) Thank you very much !!

hi anon!! a million apologies since this is so late but i hope you like the fic <3

there also aren’t any explicit details for anything bad happening - i briefly touched on subjects that you may not have control over, i hope that’s ok!

warning (?): struggled a bit on this prompt so i apologize in advance if this isn’t my best work LMAOO

gn! reader

tw: hints of assault, slight angst, very light abuse if you squint

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

xiao

now xiao is a very observant man but he's also extremely busy keeping liyue safe

he makes it a point to always come to your shows even if you don't actively see him bc he cares a lot abt you and he enjoys listening to your music ‼️

it's normal for him to sometimes get lost between his own world of demonslaying and the world he shares w you

so one night, he's hanging on the rafters of a house with the perfect view of your singing

everything goes smoothly, he sets his spear down while lightly swaying his head to the music

the concert ends and fans disperse after you say your farewells

a night like this is rare since for once, xiao can walk home w you back to the inn sweet boy really cleared out his schedule for you huh

you're unsurprised when you see him materialize next to you, opting to flash him a smile and a hello

his cheeks are lightly flushed as he crosses his arms before talking quietly about how well you did

he relishes in the wide smile you give him as a result of his praise and he lets the corners of his lips curve upwards slightly

the quiet bustle of the harbor seemed to slow down as the night grew longer

since this was a fairly large concert, you had boxes among boxes of equipment so xiao decided to make your life easier by quickly flying them to their appropriate locations

when he got back however, he was surprised to see you talking animatedly with someone

he didn't think anything was wrong until he saw the person trap you between the stage and words filtered into his ears

your back was painfully pressed against the stage wall as you defiantly met their gaze. after xiao had left, they had immediately come over to you: first introducing themselves as a fan and making amiable conversation, before divulging in personal details of your life that made your skin crawl. you weren’t helpless, you always had your weapon on hand regardless of whether you were performing or not. the way they pushed you against the wall however, made it near impossible to summon your sword should you need it.

they leered down at you while balancing an arm against the wall next to your head. you had dealt with things like this before so you weren’t overly worried; you could defend yourself. you almost felt pity for the person in front of you as they asked for your number with a sadistic grin, disgusting words tumbling off of their lips. however, that was before you felt their cold fingers idly make their way to your stomach and you felt your breath hitch. oh no

the telltale sound of whooshing alerted you of xiao’s presence, and the press of the tip of his spear against their jugular brought you relief.

“back away” he tightly growled while his golden eyes narrowed into slits. they stared at him in shock before holding their hands up and moving to step a foot away from you.

“farther” he motioned with his spear before stepping in front of you as you attempted to collect yourself.

“ok ok, i’m far away can you put your spear down now?”

“no.”

you mentally cursed as you watched the two of them glare at each other. this was supposed to be a carefree night but this unfortunate twist made the air thick with tension. you could feel the anger radiate off of xiao in waves and in an effort to deescalate the situation, you spoke.

“i’m glad to meet such an...avid fan but i’m sorry the two of us must get going now” you hastily said before attempting to grab xiao’s hand and walk off past them.

the next words had you halt your steps as they divulged their secret.

words painted in careless arrogance with hints of violet overconfidence flew out of the person’s mouth - “judging from the weeks i’ve been following you, it didn’t seem like you had a boyfriend”

at the mere mention of prolonged stalking, xiao immediately lunged to pull you behind him. god, he didn’t kill mortals but he swore if he plunged his spear into this human being right here, no one would even blink twice considering how low of a person they were.

“if i ever see you near them again, i will not hesitate to kill you. i won’t blink twice, i already have blood on my hands.” he ground out.

at the threat, the person grudgingly turned their back to you before leaving the two of you alone in the quiet harbor.

you carefully reached a hand out to touch your boyfriend’s shoulder, but stopped after you saw the expression on his face. the mix of rage, sadness, and anguish imprinted his features as you watched his chest rapidly rise and fall - a result of his emotional battle.

“i’m sorry i didn’t notice them before. i should’ve been paying more attention to you” he whispered before silently striding away from your grasp

you knew that no matter how many reassurances you gave him about how, “it’s not your fault xiao, i didn’t notice them either” he would still blame himself.

he was supposed to protect you right? so why couldn’t he sense the danger beforehand? what would’ve happened if he wasn’t there?

it’s still a learning process for him to realize that things happen, and he inevitably couldn’t be there to save you from everything. he needs time to understand and adjust. you’re willing to wait, patiently helping him through it. why? because love is worth it.

god im sorry this ended up kinda sad whoops

diluc

i swear everytime i say i’m a childe simp diluc kinda wrecks me

ahem anyways onto the hc!

he’s kinda never around but similar to xiao he will overwork himself to clear out an hour or two just to watch your concerts

he’ll always stand off to the side too so if you tilt your head while you’re singing you can spy his red hair

you always flash him the sweetest smile and this man blushes like CRAZY before quickly lifting his hand up to give you a thumbs up

everyone watching the both of you like 😍😦

people think it’s the cutest thing i swear like c’mon the elusive “bachelor of mondstadt” being seen in public supporting you??? wow pls can we share him

he walks with you back to the winery, the entire time linking his hands with yours while gushing about your performance

1939248/10 it’s literally the sweetest thing

the next day however, adelinde brings you a pink letter addressed to you

he doesn’t pry because it’s addressed to you and it’s your business but as the letters start coming by everyday, he starts to grow curious

one day he straight up just asks you about it

“hey, you know those pink letters you keep getting? who are they from?”

you laugh slightly at his bashfulness and respond with a “just some overexcited fan” and he smiles before kissing your forehead

he loves that people are noticing your talent

loves it! until you get stalked by the same person who wrote you those letters while you were shopping!

diluc knows something’s wrong when you rush into angel’s share panicked after not returning his usual smile.

“darling? are you ok?” he asks worriedly before quickly setting down the glass he was cleaning to move towards you.

the widening of your eyes as you looked behind you at the sounds of someone else entering was all he needed to swiftly step in front of you, blocking their gaze of your face.

the slightly panicked look in your eyes before you hurriedly whispered, “they’re following me” made diluc glance at them subtly out of the corner of his eye. he watched as they walked over to find a seat next to the bar, seemingly ready to order a drink. he quietly asked if you would like to sit in the room reserved for the employees, away from their prying eyes. your hasty nod was all the confirmation he needed for him to let you access the door behind him.

the night went by fairly smoothly with kaeya’s usual teasing and venti’s usual begging for alcohol. diluc’s eyes narrowed however, when the person seemed to ask him questions regarding you. things like, “i heard you’re dating y/n... they’re amazing, how long have you been together?” and “do they live with you at dawn winery?” diluc answered these questions as short as he could, trying to convey with his body language that he truly did not want to talk to them.

everything was going well until he made the mistake of leaving the bar unattended. he had briefly forgotten about your residence in the room behind him as his mind immediately gravitated to breaking up a brawl. when he returned, the half drunk glass of liquor combined with the person’s absence from their seat, caused sparks of worry to light up inside his chest.

turning to the door, he knocked once.

“is everything alright in there love?”

the sounds of things rustling about and the occasional muffled voice had him opening the door quickly. he saw you with your arm being held tightly in their grasp, your mouth muffled with their hand, while you strained against them by pulling at your arm.

diluc immediately made his way over to you, quickly pulling your arm away before letting you enter into his embrace.

“get out.” the venomous words clawed their way out of his throat as he looked at them with eyes that screamed hatred. his blood was boiling as his mind replayed the scene; your scared expression and their greedy eyes.

diluc didn’t need to repeat himself twice as they ran out, trying not to trip over crates of wine. he made a mental note to find out who they were in order to make sure they never came near you ever again.

he quickly looked down at your form, relaxing slightly at the sight of your tentative smile. “my knight in shining armor” you joked before softly nuzzling your head into his shoulder. the anger had yet to dissipate from his veins, and although he knew you were still shaken up, he was sure you would be fine.

a pink letter placed on the table next to you caught his eye, and he made sure to quickly pocket it as he led you out, gently jesting with you about the “unnecessary amount of wine barrels in here, diluc this is a safety hazard!”

he would deal with this person later.

childe

ayo AYO ITS THE TOY SALESMAN

ok tbh he’s very rarely around so he unfortunately cannot make it to all of your shows

dw tho, he will try his hardest to be there for the ones he’s in town for bc what is he if not your number one hype king???

ok kinda creepy! alert

he’s tasked two of his subordinates to keep watch over you whenever he’s out of the harbor

it’s not anything creepy,,, he just gets extremely worried abt you and wants to make sure you’re safe

sO when he gets a ransom note??? he’s understandably confused but also very much freaked out

bc did they not know who he was??? the fact that they thought they could get away with holding you captive was quite honestly kind of funny to him

very stressed and angry tho - hides it behind a facade of smiles but he’s raging

takes him only a few hours to track you down bc he had everyone and i mean EVERYONE looking for you

the note crunched in his hand as the harbinger made his way towards windrise. his pace was erratic, long legs rushing towards the small cave his agents had found. they were bordering the perimeter of the enclosure, careful to not alert you or your captor of their presence. childe’s subordinate head had calmly stated that childe need not come out to rescue you, the situation was under control and they could do it for him. however, childe’s sharp gaze along with his sickly sweet words of “thanks but no. i’m coming out to see this sorry asshole for myself” had the agent backing away apologizing. he wanted to see the look on this person’s face before he shoved their sorry ass into the abyss himself.

as he reached the opening of the cave, he glanced over his shoulder at his head agent; a silent warning to keep the area sealed. his blue eyes glinted with a thirst for blood before making his way into the cave, sealing off the exit with his body.

“well well, playing games with the love of my life are we?”

his teasing words reached your ears as your eyes immediately found the face of your boyfriend. you weren’t horribly scared, just a little shaken up and sore from the bindings on your wrists. relief coursed through your body at the sight of him. you needn’t put in your plan of getting out of these bindings to fight your captor yourself anymore.

childe’s eyes quickly scanned over your frame, making sure you weren’t hurt. at the state of you completely unharmed, the harbinger let his heart calm down slightly. you were completely ok.

“wait a little longer, love? i promise this will be over soon”

the wink he sent you had you lightly rolling your eyes at his antics before he directed his attention back to your kidnapper. if your captor wasn’t scared before, they were certainly shaking in their boots now at the sight of childe’s twin hydro blades rotating playfully in his hands.

“listen, all i want is the money-”

“and all i want is your head”

your boyfriend smiled after cutting them off. the severity of the situation truly seemed to sink in at that moment before pleas of mercy fell from your captor’s lips, desperate to escape the bloodthirsty gaze of the harbinger. childe’s eyes flickered over to yours where you sat there, with your head ferociously shaking. a silent “no.” he sighed before swiftly bringing his arm up to hit your captor on the head, effectively knocking them out cold.

his hands worked at the ropes holding you and he gingerly rubbed at your bruised wrists. you silently thanked the archons he could never say no to you. archons forbid what would've happened if you hadn’t said anything. while you were explaining what happened, the young man quickly scooped you up in his arms before walking out of the cave.

you playfully hit his shoulder while muttering “drama queen” but you stopped when you saw his face morph into an expression of seriousness. you had informed him on the situation about your captor revealing themselves to be a recent stalker of yours, completely oblivious to the look of frustration on his face as he freed you from your bondages.

“i was scared you know.” he quietly divulged. “i knew that it wasn’t anything extremely serious but i... i was still scared”

you swore as you looked at him in that moment, he had turned ten again. the youth of his face betraying his vulnerability.

you quietly hummed before tangling your fingers in his hair. “i hope you know it wasn’t your fault. it wasn’t anyone’s fault. not even the two fatui agents who you sent to stalk me while you were away.”

he quietly laughed at that before mentally filing away a reminder for a lecture to those two agents in the near future.

“i’m just glad you’re safe. i know you can save yourself but i’ll always be here. i still wish you would let me take care of your asshole kidnapper myself though.” he pouted jokingly.

“i’m sure the millelith will lock them up for a long time.” you laughed sweetly.

his usual smile reappeared at your antics. maybe he didn’t get to beat your captor up and do...much worse. however at the end of the day, your smile was still intact regardless of what happened. that’s all he wanted.

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Burden

Characters: Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,261

Warnings: None

Premise: Xiao fell in love with your goodness, with your selflessness and generosity towards others. Perhaps, however, in doing so he had misunderstood your own complexities.

In which the reader feels they are a burden.

Author’s Note: I feel like I should note that there are going to be some relatively extreme emotions, mostly negative. I don’t feel like it’s enough or specific enough to be given a warning, but if anyone wants to tell me to tag it for something I will gladly. That being said I’m pretty proud of this one

Xiao

Ever since your first interaction you had been helping Xiao. It had seemed so natural, even then, even when nothing seemed natural about interacting with a human, those strange people from who Xiao must always be separated. Yet there you were, asking if this perfect stranger was alright. And there Xiao was, suddenly seeing his world opening up before him.

Perhaps it was for this reason that your relationship had developed in the way it had. To Xiao your selflessness, your never ending kindness, the fact that you would stop to help someone regardless of circumstance, all of that was normal. It was innate in your personality, and perhaps that was why Xiao never questioned what effect having that kind of personality might have on you. It is easy to assume that a kind and selfless person is also one with a short memory. After all, how could they stand it otherwise?

So when the first, barely noticeable, traces of that burden which Xiao saw so often began to swirl around you the yaksha’s initial reaction was that of utter panic. Was this not the exact reason that Xiao had chosen to disconnect himself from humanity? Was this not proof, right before him, that the chains he carried could not be contained. Though Xiao generally thought of humans as vaguely useless, deserving of protection because Rex Lapis proclaimed it be so, the idea of harming any one of them with the legacy of his own sins, it was something that he could never stomach, no matter how many times he feigned apathy. That you should be the person upon who his burdens should be transferred, how could he bear it?

Of course a small, more logical, part of him urged the adeptus to stop and think. The miasma that Xiao attracted in such high concentration was everywhere, and humans were not exempt from this burden by themselves. After all, did humanity not channel great evil as well as good? Did not the most ordinary human, dejected by their lot in life, become swarmed by little wisps of evil? Yet those were other, ordinary humans. Ordinary humans couldn’t understand the sheer capability to love that you seemed to possess. No, if Xiao could sense such a miasma around you then it was surely his fault.

Still the idea of leaving you was something quite painful to Xiao, to the adeptus who had so recently learned what it meant to love someone wholeheartedly. He told himself that it was best to leave immediately, best to disappear with the wind and never look back. Yet a part of him couldn’t seem to bear the idea; and that was the part that won out as Xiao approached you later in the day, as if in a desperate last attempt to prove himself wrong.

“Are you alright?”

“Xiao!” You jumped slightly, having evidently been lost in thought. Smiling widely you shook your head. “Of course I’m alright! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I…” Xiao paused for a moment as the idea of telling you what was going on flitted through his head. Almost immediately the thought was squashed. After all, would the knowledge not worry you more? “I was just asking.”

“Well thank you Xiao, it’s very kind of you to think of me.”

“It’s my duty.”

“Still,” your smile never faltered. “You deserve thanks for what you do nonetheless.”

Xiao tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach, tried to block out the emotions that crashed over him like great waves as you leaned in to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. Was this not a good thing? After all, if Xiao was what cause this miasma to float around you, then was that not your salvation? Xiao knew how easy it was to drown in the burdens that one must shoulder. He knew how easy it was for humans to sink to the bottom of their despair and never once more emerge for water. Why should it not be a blessing that you would never have to fight to keep your head up, to keep yourself from a life full of burdens? Why, why did it hurt so much?

During the night, Xiao would leave during the night. After all, you deserved one last evening of happiness, if the yaksha could even believe that he brought you happiness. Or maybe it was for his sake that he refused to leave before the world was plunged into darkness. Maybe it was simply that Xiao could no longer imagine a world without you, and that such nightmares came out easier at night. Lying on top of the roof, eyes closed, ears focused on the familiar tread of your feet, Xiao willed himself not to think. He could regret when he was far away from you, when you were once more safe. For now he could only follow that ritual which had so long kept him sane, kept him from joining his brethren. For now he thought only of the contract he had once made.

The sound of your feet on the ground below came all too soon, as the sun finally began its descent across the heavens in earnest. Keeping his eyes closed, as if to stall the darkness for a little longer, Xiao took a deep breath in. He needed to steel himself for this evening; if not, well, Xiao had no wish to cry for the first time in a millennia.

Only once these thoughts finished flitting around in his head did the yaksha finally recognize the change in your footfall. Usually you were very light on your feet, dashing this way and that, stopping to ask Goldet or Yanxiao some mundane question, inquiring after the old lady who had basically set up permanent residence on the bottom floor of the Inn. This time, however, you seemed to drag, as if you were indeed carrying something very heavy. Alarm flashing through him, Xiao willed himself into perfect stillness. He wished to hear more, wished to understand what had caused such a change in you.

What he certainly hadn’t expected was the labored breathing of someone seconds away from tears.

The moment Xiao heard the door to your room close the sobbing began in earnest. Though you certainly seemed to be trying your hardest to hide your tears the sound of your muffled sobs rang through Xiao like a siren, flaring up every bit of alarm he had to offer. Jumping off of the roof Xiao catapulted his way through the hallways of the Inn, not bothering to hide his presence to the few, very confused, residents that were out. Reaching your room he didn’t allow himself a moment’s hesitation before grabbing the knob and opening the door.

Your head snapped up, eyes a mixture of dark emotions as you stared at him. For a moment you seemed ready to flee, to run and hide somewhere, or perhaps to throw him out. However almost immediately you seemed to sink back into yourself, and though Xiao could still sense your distress, at least the initial shock of his arrival seemed to have passed as quickly as it would otherwise.

“Xiao! I, I didn’t expect you. I, could, could you leave? I don’t, I don’t want, I don’t want to be seen right now.” It was all you could get out before another round of sobs wracked through your body.

Trying to remember what you had done for so many people, for himself, Xiao grabbed the pitcher that sat at one of the tables in the room. Pouring some water into a glass he crept towards you as softly as possible, hoping that he could convey his worries in these odd, brusque actions. He knew that he didn’t have the talent you had to comfort people, knew that all his gestures of kindness inevitably came out cramped and awkward. Nevertheless he shoved the glass into your hands, staring just past you as you tentatively downed the water. Taking the glass from you Xiao then reached out one of his palms to you. His relief when you placed your own palm on top of his was indescribable.

“I guess you probably would like an explanation,” you rasped out.

Xiao said nothing, waiting for you to act on your own. If he knew anything the yaksha knew that attempting to force the truth out of anyone would never worked. Hadn’t his own years as a pariah taught him that.

“It’s just,” you finally continued, taking in deep, labored breaths. “It’s just so hard. It’s so hard Xiao, I can’t stand it anymore!”

“Stand it?”

“Stand the… the hurt!”

Your eyes filled with tears, and you went to grab the handkerchief that you left on your nightstand. You always needed one with you, as your eyes stung terribly whenever you began to cry. Xiao said nothing as you sobbed once more, only moving to draw small circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

“It hurts so much, to see other people. To hear their problems. Not that it’s their fault, or that I don’t want to help them. I do, I really do. I look at all the people suffering near me and I just want to take all their burdens and give it to myself, after all they don’t deserve all their sufferings. But it’s so hard Xiao, it’s so hard to take on people’s burdens, even a little bit. And I feel so selfish when I think that, so selfish and so worthless. How can I say that? But it’s true, it’s really, really true. And when I think about that, when I think about all the other people suffering worse than me, it just makes me feel so horribly selfish. Like, like all my problems are so stupid and selfish and telling others would only hurt them, and didn’t I want to take everyone else’s burdens away? I’m so stupid. And it just, it hurts.”

Xiao sat there quietly once more, waiting as you cried. At one point you seemed to collapse in on yourself, leaning against his shoulder as if to support yourself. Only then did Xiao allow himself to move. Carding his hands through your hair he said nothing, he merely waited.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. You already have enough burdens, I know. I shouldn’t be complaining to you of all people. I, if you want you can tell me if something is wrong. I mean, you always can, I, just. I don’t know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“My burdens are my own,” Xiao replied softly, finally letting the emotions swirling through him try to string together as words. “It has nothing to do with you. It never will. You, you should come to me when you feel burdened.”

“But then I’m only passing my problems onto you!”

“I told you, my chains are my own. They are the payment for my contract. They aren’t what you tell me or push on me. If you feel these burdens then give to me. That is my duty.”

“But Xiao, I, I don’t want to. I don’t want to be a problem.”

“How can you say something so stupid,” Xiao scoffed. Bringing his hand to your cheek he sighed softly. “You will never be a problem. You will always be dear to me. Let me help you. You help so many humans. I want to help you.”

“I, I don’t know,” you spoke, voice faltering.

Though Xiao could still feel the tension in the air, could still see the miasma which swirled around you, there was something fragile about it. It was as if Xiao could reach through the tangled threads and pull them away, if only he could find a way to do so. Stroking your cheek softly Xiao pressed his forehead to yours. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath in. After a few moments he heard you do the same.

The rest of the evening Xiao stayed vigilant by your side, listening as you finally let yourself say all the things that had been weighing down upon you. It was painful, listening to you. Xiao constantly had to fight the urge to tell you how wrong you were, how much you mattered and how far he would go to bring you all the happiness he could possible gather in his stained hands. Still he said nothing, for if you had taught him anything it was that simply listening could do infinitely more than promising to fight or trying to shoulder each burden as you lay them out in the daylight.

Eventually you grew exhausted, a combination of the crying and the talking and the reliving. As Xiao listened to your breath even out, softly shifting your head from leaning on his shoulder to resting in his lap, the yaksha thought about all that had happened.

Xiao had assumed that you were somehow above all the humans around you. Purer, gentler, kinder. He hadn’t stopped to think how that might have affected you. Now that he knew that wasn’t true, now that Xiao knew how deeply you felt, how sometimes your mind too chased after darkness or found itself struggling to keep above water, he couldn’t help but feel as if he’d missed something before. Perhaps you shouldered these burdens and perhaps you were just as human as the rest. You were still kind, kind and selfless and utterly beautiful. And Xiao still loved you in a way that continued to burn brightly through his soul.

#genshin impact #xiao x reader #xiao #alatus #genshin impact fanfiction #requested #oneshot #my writing

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binniesthighs · 3 years

Text

telepatía | reader x binsung

a/n: hi cuties! hope ya’ll are are staying seggsy and cozy! ;) this piece is 100% self indulgent (hehe) as well as my first time writing a poly r/ship! since i’m new at it, any and all feedback is super super appreciated!! <3

telepatía | changbin x reader x jisung

~aka, my love note to binsung~

Pairing: self insert, seo changbin x female reader x han jisung

Genre: fluff n’ smut

Tags: poly relationship, long distance r/ship au, established r/ship au, inspired by a song au, comfort fic, lil bit emotional but that’s bc they are in looove, idiots in love, softdom!binnie, hardswitch!reader, softsub!jisung, mentions of food, explicit language, masturbation (f), dirrrrty talking, hehe soft love makin’, lowkey size and corruption kink, unprotected sex, oral (m&f), face sitting, penetration (piv and anal), double penetration (f), nipple play (m&f), fingering (f), squirting, marking, multiple orgasms, creampie, ahhh soft n’ intimate body touching, cockwarming, shower aftercare, i am so sorry i got sooooo carried away teehee

Word count: 7.9k

Recommended listening: telepatía by kali uchis

Two months. Two months that had felt like eternity.

Your pen tapped at the table to your desk as you watched the minutes pass by. To your right, your desk calendar with your little countdown smiled at you with the little doodles had drawn along with the stickers that you had decorated there.

Five more days!

The golden hour of the day passed by outside your window upon the city that you had been calling home for the past two months. It was gorgeous. Unreal even. Studying abroad had been harder than you had expected--although it was often exciting at other times too. There was not a day that passed when you had regretting doing it, but there were other days when you had wished you could just transport yourself right back home; even if it meant it would be for only a couple hours of so.

During nights like these, your cramped little studio felt even more empty than usual. The colors of gold and pink would smear in the skyline along with pale pink clouds that looked softer and lusher than anything else in the world. In the springtime, the budding and green trees lined the outside of the apartment complex and birds twittering past would flutter their wings outside of your window cracked open slightly. As the days went by, the air warmed and became more humid, and smelled of luxurious primrose and hyacinths.

Your room was dimly lit by your desk lamp, and you hadn’t bothered to turn on any other light. Pages wrinkled, and your sense of loneliness came creeping in like the cold winter that the new season had now just chased away. You didn’t want the feeling to linger, but you couldn’t help but let it.

The sheets of your bed were cozy, much like the rest of the way that you had decorated your studio. The cream colored covers felt like silk on your legs, but where nothing compared to the touch that you craved.

Your phone clicked on with it’s blue-white light, showing your screensaver: a beautiful sunset image of that last walk that you had taken of the two of them before you had left.

If it were possible, you imagined that missing one person was enough to shatter a heart, but two people?

You hugged your phone to your chest, feigning some semblance of a hug to the two of them. Your nose sniffled as it grew more stuffed, and you let your suppressed sobs fill up the space of the room.

You were convinced that you must've been the the luckiest or the unluckiest person in the whole world: two loves of your life, two people to share it all with had been like a dream come true. It was finally something that felt like it made sense. But, to be so closely tied to two people, meant that being away from them hurt two times as much.

You imagined them with you in your room: they loved to sandwich you in the middle of them. This was their favorite place to have you. Nothing had been warmer and safer than that. Arms and legs would be all tied together in a way that made little sense, and both of their quiet breathing would tickle at the skin of the back of your neck and your forehead. If there was anything that you had guessed you missed most, it would be falling asleep with them. “I love you’s” would be whispered, and all space between you dissapear once the down comforter would be pulled to your noses.

No matter how hard you pretended that they were there, it was never the same.

[it takes three to make a thing go right] binnie, sungie, me

binnie: have you had dinner yet? please don’t forget!

jisung: [see image] this is what we’re having for breakfast! we wish you were here with us!

With shaking fingers you opened the picture to view Jisung’s attempts at cooking. He had been getting into it these days. You had almost wished sometimes that you had been there to try whatever he had concocted--even if it didn’t taste the best. Today it looked like he had tried to make fluffy pancakes with strawberries and cream...but they didn’t end up as fluffy as they should’ve been. Changbin was in the background of the picture making a couple finger hearts. Undoubtedly Jisung had asked him to do it for the picture: Changbin was more of the no-nonsense and stoic type with somewhat of a goofy edge. You and Jisung always knew how to make him melt. “You two are my weaknesses you know?”

sungie: don’t stay up too late either! finish strong before you come back, okay?

binnie: we really can’t wait to see you, five days can’t come soon enough.

You sniffled, sitting up. Had they been there then, they wouldn’t have liked to see you cry. Although your heart stung with a sharp pain seeing them so happy together, you brought yourself back together. You knew exactly how it would’ve been: Jisung would dry your tears gently, then cuddle right up under your arm to nuzzle into your shoulder. Behind the both of you, Changbin would spread his arms wide so both of you could be wrapped up in him.

me: i really miss you both. i miss you so, so much. i can’t wait to see you on Friday. don’t have too much fun without me until then :)

binnie: you kidding? we’re miserable without you!! i think that we’re both going crazy.

sungie: he’s right!! it feels so weird, it always has been these past months.

we’re not complete without you, y/n. we miss you too sooooo much.

and you know that bin gets crabby sometimes. when it’s just me around...

bin: hey! the hell you mean crabby?! i’m a frickin angel!!!

The way that you could read each of their messages in their voices brought you comfort, and you giggled a little reading the words.

sungie: relax! i’m just trying to make her laugh. did i succeed?

me: you did sungie. :)

bin: you forget that i’m sitting right next to you sung, you’re playing a risky game.

sungie: ooooh he talks such big talk, are you seeing this y/n? do you see what i mean? plz come back and save me!!!

bin: HEY

me: binnnnn go easy on sungie.

bin: i do!!!

i only go rough when he asks me too ;)

sungie: w o w

While it did make you laugh, it still hurt a little thinking about how even with you missing, their lives still went on, they ate meals together, went to concerts, movies, out to eat, and, at the end of the day, they still had eachother to cuddle up with to sleep. It hurt even more thinking about how they still had eachother to satisfy other comforts. Of course, you were still involved over the phone and video calls too, but with thousands of miles of distance, your hands alone could never feel as mind-blowing as theirs.

binnie: there will be plenty of that when you get back too y/n ;) sung has maybe had it too easy.

me: hmm too easy?

Jisung send a series of emoji stickers that all conveyed about the same message: oh my god i’m in trouble.

binnie: anyway, jokes aside, we are really looking forward to friday. sungie and i have been talking about it and we think we just want to spend the night in if that’s okay with you? you’ll be tired too.

As always, your boyfriends were the most considerate people in likely the whole world. You didn’t really want to be anywhere else, but just with the two of them; as close as you possibly could be.

me: that sounds perfect. <3

sungie: get some rest tonight!! in the morning get yourself something nice for breakfast, i can send you some money hehe

binnie: boyfriend of the year award over here ! !

sungie: hey, we’re both boyfriend of the year! duh, she loves us the same???

me: that’s very true.

binnie: pffff

sungie: don’t make me tackle you seo changbin, i am sitting right next to you

binnie: is that a promise?

me: boys, boys stop fighting, you’re both boyfriend of the year.

binnie: see? y/n, we’re a mess without you.

sungie: changbin, you’re my boyfriend of the year too. does that make you feel better?

binnie: maybe.

sungie: we’re keeping y/n from getting dinner. we should shut up now.

anyhoo!

we love and miss you a lot a lot. take care until friday! we’re almost there!!!!

binnie: BUT I LOVE HER MORE

sungie: bin, i love you, but please, shut up.

binnie: i’m joking!! sungie i’m joking. this is an equal relationship obviously.

By now, their usual antics had left your tearstained face dry, and the corners of your mouth sore from how hard you had smiled.

binnie: see you soon! goodnight y/n!

sungie: night y/n <3

You clicked your phone closed, then let your weight drop down to your pillow that held the smell of the evening air.

“It’ll be sooner than you think.” You sighed.

It was much too nice of a night to be doing homework, so you decided to push it off for just a couple more hours, flicking on your dinky TV set to a local station where they spoke in the language that you had been teaching to yourself for the past couple months. Here and there you could recognize a few words, but you mostly liked it for the noise.

You pulled your thin sheet over your bare legs, merely enjoying the simplicity of the feeling over your whole body.

there will be plenty of that when you get back home too.

we love and miss you a lot a lot.

Two months for imagining...and you had learned to hone your skill especially, even if it didn’t feel the same. Even though missing them hurt, you could still feel the love from them from thousands of miles away. They had said themselves that they didn’t feel complete without you.

The silky feeling sheets tickled at the hairs on your arms as your hand teased down your stomach, then toyed with the elastic of your panties under cotton shorts. You blamed it on the night being especially pleasant, or maybe it was just what you and needed at that moment.

You wondered how much they had missed you, if they thought of you when their hands would run over each other, or perhaps even if they would imagine that you were there with them when they hold each other close, tiny gaps and moans stick on their lips while they would pleasure each other too. You in fact had thought of them: Jisung’s pretty moans and the way that Changbin liked to suck little bites into his neck.

That spring air hushed into your window with the softness of a song, and curious fingers dipped into your folds and twitching bud which was wet to the touch. Your body jolted at the feeling of your fingers on your suddenly needy clit. Your mind ran wild thinking of the way that both of them had looked beside you, one of their hands dipping under the fabric of your panties and the other lightly twisting at your nipples too. Absentmindedly, your own hand reached to mimic the action on your breast while you remembered. Careful kisses would be pressed into your cheek and neck while they whispered adoring little praises in your ears.

“You’re so beautiful baby, like nothing else.”

“We love you so much. My princess, such a good girl for me, hm? You like how our hands look on you?”

Your body shivered at the memory, and you rubbed circles into your clit, gathering your own sticky slick to rub over the sensitive bud.

“Yes,” You whispered to the empty room.

The golden setting sun reflected fractals of tiny rainbows into your room--just as your prism had done hanging in the window back at home. It would reflect on the stucco walls, and the colors would streak on the ceiling. You would catch sight of them laying tangled up in scattered sheets with both of their bodies prowling over you in bare skin. You could trace the curves of their shoulder blades like the edge of perfectly crested waves. A faraway warmth swelled over your body, and you rubbed harshly at your bud craving more and and more. Your legs squirmed under the sheets: much like they would when they would bow their heads to tease at your clit with interweaving tongues, sandwiched between your thighs which they would pull back with starving fingertips. You could almost hear it: the way that your slick would drip over your pussy, and how they would taste it too on each others lips in between.

Your back arched recalling their praise. They would pull you between them once again, and fill your mouth with adoring kisses covered with multitudes of their love. Jisung would mewl little whines into your mouth, shaking from your hand wrapped around his cock, and Changbin kissed you like you were his reason for breathing: slow, languid, purposeful. He’d sigh out watching the way that you marked up Jisung’s body while pumping himself all the while.

“Binnie. Sungie.” Their names became your anchor while your rubbed wider, then slower, then faster. Your soaked fingers plunged into your pussy while your head danced with the memories of them filling you up, rolling their hips in as deeply as thye could, kissing into your chest or the crook of your neck. You curved your fingers to tease at your g-spot, but your clit was even more impatient.

“Do you want to cum for us princess?”

“I’ll cum for you...” Your breath hitched in that room all by yourself.

Your fingers wiggled back up to your clit, now hypersensitive from its lack of attention. Instantly, your orgasm built violently behind the twitching bud, and you threw your free arm back to grip into your pillow to steady yourself. Sweat had gathered on the underside of your thighs and on your back: it was a feeling so dirty that it only made your head feel lighter. It was as if they were in the room with you and you could see them clearly: enamored eyes dipped in lust that ate up your form until there was nothing left.

“C-close.” You shuddered, now with pruned fingers encircling until you drew yourself right to the brink.

You came with a forceful heat that swept over your whole body and sent your hips jerking up into the air and toes digging into the bed. Your incisors bit harshly at your lip, and you stifled your unsteady and high pitched moans the best you possibly could. In your apartment complex, the walls were thin enough for there to be little left to the imagination.

Your chest shook as you came down and you teased your bud, edging on overstimulation for as long as you could take it. Jisung had liked the way that you would convulse like this and Changbin would relentlessly give little slaps to your aching bud. Once you could take no more, you drew your hand back from the elastic, then you let the euphoria sweep over your body for a few moments of silence and tranquility.

Yes, you had done it to yourself, but without their help, there was no way that you could’ve shown your body the same kind of fervent love.

It was as if they could make love to you telepathically, even on this night when the sun was setting, and your bed was empty.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You hadn’t expected yourself to feel nervous meeting them at the airport. Still, your heart pounded in your chest with a ridiculous rhythm. It wasn’t like you had a completely different face or had changed anything about yourself remotely that would’ve shocked them. Still, a sense of anxiety swelled in you that was unexpected and unwarranted. Perhaps it was because it was so surreal.

There was something odd about the airport, it was likely how industrial it all felt with chairs that were lined with thin upholstery and carpets that held all kinds of mysterious stains. But, while it was a bit of a undesirable area, it was teeming with excitement. There were patrons at the magazine stands busying themselves flipping through books and laughing at the outrageous titles, people sitting joyously at the little restaurants and several hyper children tugging the hands of exasperated parents with neck pillows clinging to their strained necks. Further down the way, there was the sign illuminated pointing to the pick up area past baggage claim.

The air smelled overly filtered, but it was still as exhilarating. You took two escalators down and one moving walkway, then the light of the outdoors flooded the area with conveyor belts and the screens above them.

“Y/n? Y/n!!!!” Jisung’s voice called over the busy sounds of baggage claim filled to the brim with his excitement.

Before you got a chance to figure out where his voice had come from, your adorable boyfriend came charging at you with arms outstretched and an inhumanly large smile on his face. He scooped you up holding you so tightly that you had to teeter on your tip toes. While Jisung had a bit of a tiny frame, you never would’ve guessed from the scale of his hugs.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” He giggled out the words with a sense of disbelief, and he swung your body back and forth. “Oh my god I missed you sososo much.”

Another set of arms peacefully wrapped around you and Jisung and squeezed you in even tighter. In one of his hands, the cellophane from a bouquet of pink roses crinkled. “It’s so nice to have you back.” Changbin cooed, then reached to pat your head with his free hand.

You blinked back your happy tears the best that you could. The three of you broke, and you looked at both of your boyfriends right in front of you for the first time in what felt like forever. Changbin squeezed Jisung’s shoulder while the boy wiped a couple tears for the corner of his eyes.

You were biased, but they really were the most beautiful people in the world.

“I-I missed you both too, more than you can imagine.”

The two boys beamed, then presented you with your flowers.

“‘Hope you like pink ‘cause that’s the last color that they had left.” Changbin chuckled, and you nodded profusely.

“They’re gorgeous.”

You decided, after two months of not seeing the damn loves of your life, you deserved to kiss them--fuck the glares that you would get.

First you grabbed Changbin by the cheeks to press a smiling kiss right into his surprised mouth, and kiss him like you were a high schooler starved for attention that was forbidden to them. Still, your boyfriend grabbed your face back, rubbing tenderly into your own cheeks.

You winked to an equally shocked Jisung, “You next.”

You kissed the stutters away on his lips, and then ran giddy lips over his which cracked with a smile so wide it made it a little hard to kiss him. He wrapped both of his arms around you to pull you in close and you ruffled up his caramel blond hair the best you possibly could. Beside you, Changbin chuckled out proudly.

You had closed your eyes to kiss both of your boyfriends like they deserved. If someone had stared, well...you didn’t see it.

Jisung was out of breath after your parted, then pushed up his glasses in his surprise.

“That was....”

“--Lets get home!!” You shined with a smile, then took off in front of them. “Are you coming or not??”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Jisung decided not to subject you to his home cooking, regardless of the fact that you had said that you wanted to try it. You had ordered take-out, and ate it picnic style on the floor to your living room in front of the TV playing a movie that none of you payed attention to. Regardless of the fact that your jet lag had hit you like a truck, your pure adrenaline upon seeing them kept your eyes from becoming weary.

The normal questions had been asked: how are you classes, how is the food there, what are the people like, what is your apartment like, have you made friends etc. You asked Changbin about how his classes were going, and how Jisung’s part-time job at the café was and about the silly little things that you used to do as three, but they now had to as two. The consensus was that doing anything as two was strange and even a little awkward at times because they had gotten so used to having you around.

Changbin cleared the dishes, making space for you to make up your little pillow fort that you would do at times. “It felt like there was a piece missing from us. It was...really hard sometimes too.”

“It was for me too. Out there all alone...I had never realized that a bed meant for one person would be like, the saddest thing that there is on this earth.”

“Small bed no more!” Jisung piped, then proceeded to wrap both his arms and legs around you the best he could. “Also small shower no more.” He nuzzled into your chest.

One of the selling points of the apartment that you shared was actually the comically large shower that it came with. During the first few weeks after you had moved in, it was as if the three of you were physically incapable of taking a shower without the others being there. Changbin joked that it was as if they had made it just for the three of you in some kind of destined way.

“Hmmm well, I think that we should make use of that as soon as possible.”

Jisung let out a happy little hum in agreement then angled himself up to plant a couple quick kisses on your mouth and nose. Changbin threw down your array of pillows and other blankets, draping them over chairs to make a little tent like the three of you were toddlers hidden away in your secret place.

“Sungie sandwich!!!” Jisung suddenly gasped out, “Binnie come on!!”

Changbin scoffed, “I guess it has been a while...can’t say no to that.”

Jisung squealed and the two of you made space for your boyfriend to come slide himself on the other side and make a proper “Sungie sandwich.” He kissed careful lips into the crook of Jisung’s neck which made the other boy giggle out in a tizzy: not only was he sensitive there, but it would tickle him too. You reached your arms over to tangle your fingers up in Changbin’s dark locks which were just as soft as you remembered.

“This feels so amazing.” You sighed into Jisung who had crept his hands up your shirt.

“It does.” Changbin agreed. “We’re complete again.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Small bed no more was right.

Jisung patted the middle spot, wearing only a white tee and his boxers.

“Your spot awaits you princess.”

“Don’t mind if I do!”

Changbin sauntered over while he brushed his teeth, abandoning the idea of a shirt all together.

Your eyes widened, “...Bin--”

“--What?�� He smugly smirked. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before?”

“N-no.”

Your other boyfriend scoffed, “He certainly knows that he’s hot, doesn’t he?”

“He sure does.” Changbin dished out a prideful wink.

With sarcasm laced in your voice, you turned to Jisung to say, “I’m so sorry you had to deal with that while I was gone.”

Changbin’s voice echoed from the bathroom “HE LIKED IT!”

Jisung waved him off, settling to beckon you under the thick and cozy comforter that you had daydreamed of more than once.

“Are you comfy?” He hushed.

“Mmhm! Comfiest I’ve been in months.”

Just as he always would, Jisung would wrap you up so tight that it might’ve been a little suffocating--but it wasn’t like you minded in the slightest. The top of his poofy hair smelled like grapefruits somehow, and you hadn’t realized how much you had missed it. The feeling of your bare legs intertwined, and there was nothing that came close to such a perfect feeling.

Your other boyfriend clicked off the light, then engulfed the both of you with his rather strong and intimidating arms. You knew for a fact that they were nothing but cuddly and harmless. Being like this with them was what you had missed most, and it was finally yours for the taking.

“Are you guys asleep yet?” Jisung whispered after approximately five minutes of silence.

“No,” Changbin murmured. “What is it?”

“I-I dunno, I can’t fall asleep, I just keep thinking...”

You flopped over to face him, “What is it Sungie? Everything okay?”

Your adorable boyfriend stammered, then shied under the comforter in the dark of the room. “I-I don’t know if now is the right time, but...” It was noticeable how his tone had changed; you and Changbin knew it well. Jisung’s pitch would raise and his voice would crack when he wanted something.

Changbin leaned over to click the light back on. “Sung, you don’t have to be so coy about it. I think that Y/n and I know you better than you know yourself.”

Jisung’s eyes widened in his embarrassment, “You what??”

Your headstrong boyfriend sighed, “Use your words Sungie.”

His cheeks turned rosy, then he peeped, “It’s just that it’s been a really long time and I can’t stop thinking about it, and...Bin and I didn’t really do anything for like a week cause--”

Your head whipped in Changbin’s direction, “What?”

Changbin nodded solemnly saying, “Let him finish.”

“--C-cause I wanted us to wait for when you came back so it could be like, extra special? Or...something like that.” He threw the blanket over his head. “It sounds so dumb when I say it out loud.”

You really didn’t deserve someone like Jisung. Not in this lifetime or the next. You felt your limbs practically turn to jelly to hug your shy boyfriend.

“It’s not dumb!! Not at all!! I think that it’s so sweet! You wanted to wait for me? Oh, baby...”

With the blanket pulled back, you held his glistening eyes with yours. He really was irresistible when he would get like this.

“I’m assuming that you wanna stop waiting, hm?”

Changbin joined you in leaning over the shiest of you three, then shrugged down the cotton of your loose t-shirt to paint kisses into your shoulder. In the chill of the room, the warmth contrasted beautifully.

“Yes or no Sungie? Because I defin--”

“--Yes! Uh--I mean, yes, but--only if you aren’t too tired or if you want to.”

“Sungie, how can I say no to you?” You bowed your neck to press loving little kisses into his lips which still tasted faintly of mint. He immediately give into you, grabbing out to hold your neck firmly as you did so. His hips squirmed slightly, as did his legs--he always was such an impatient baby.

Changbin scooched in closer to caress down your back as you filled your boyfriend with every single kiss that you had been waiting months to give him.

His voice was as soft as velvet, and full of his immense love for the two of you. Seeing both of you like this made him swell with such as sense of admiration, it was as if it was a high for him. “We’ll take care of you Sungie, we’d love to.”

Even from Changbin’s praises, Jisung’s whole body would shiver, and you could feel it on your tongue too when you had politely asked for him to allow you entrance.

Jisung set to work pulling your shirt up over your arms once you turned to Changbin to kiss over him roughly. He had liked it more that way: a collision of lips and teeth grazing over the softer parts of your mouth, gasps getting caught in between and the heat of tongues twisting as if you were as sweet as honey. As soon as you were rid of your shirt two sets of hands greedily crept up your body to twist and pull at your nipples which had hardened in seconds. Your head fell to Changbin’s shoulder while they teased and flicked at your sensitive buds until they hurt.

“She’s so pretty, isn’t she?” Changbin growled, then cradled your head to lay you down.

“The prettiest.” Jisung agreed, then hooked his fingers under the lacy part of your underwear that you might’ve worn with the purpose of them not staying on you for long. In return, you tugged at both of their waistbands for them to do the same. Cloth hit the bedside floor, and all that was left was Jisung’s shirt which you pulled off yourself. You only had a couple moments to look in the dim lighting of the room, but both of them had already dripped lightly with pearly drips of pre-cum and their hardening dicks throbbed against the mattress. Not only was it a heavenly sight to behold, but you knew that both of them were entirely for you.

Changbin leaned down to flick his tongue around your hardened bud, then used his hand to kneed at your other breast with his powerful grasp. Jisung pulled your face towards him with hungry little whimpers that tickled your bottom lip, so you returned the favor by pulling his with your teeth. He recoiled beautifully from the feeling, and you saw your prefect window to slither down his body and wrap your hand around his pink cock. At first, you grazed your thumb over his slit roughly.

“Did you miss my hand on your cock Sungie? Look at you...so hard for me, so worked up...do you want it that bad, baby?”

“Y-yes, p-please...”

Changbin kissed his way up your neck from your breasts sparkling from his saliva, then sucked love bites onto your collarbones and the soft parts of your neck. “Angel, I want to see you with Sungie’s dick in your mouth, can you do that?”

You nodded, reveling in Changbin’s instructions. There was something about being told exactly what to do that made you feel so pliable. Changbin knew it well. You then worked kisses down your boyfriend’s body, pausing for a moment to flick your tongue over his nipples in the way that made his whole chest flush with pink. He laughed out in his pleasure with an airy breath too. You kissed gently at first, teasing your lips over, then sucking harshly with a trailing of teeth. His back arched, and he let out a delightful “ah-fuck!”

You finished by peppering other little marks on his chest which faded from pink to violet in a matter of seconds.

“Babyboy, you wanna taste my cock too?” Changbin greedily rose to kneel, then pumped his fist with tiny trailing breaths.

Jisung’s eyes turned into full moons at the sight, then nodded excitedly while angling himself correctly. You and your boyfriend exchanged prideful little glances over the other’s eagerness. The pads of your fingers traced down Jisung’s thin frame, ghosting over his flaring abs and drawing little scribbles into his ribs. Your perfect position was set between this quivering thighs which welcomed you easily, and you took his deliciously pink cock in your hand to tease at him with thick stripes. You gathered saliva on your tongue so he could feel it, then used another hand to pump at him too.

Jisung flattened out his tongue to swirl it around his boyfriends angrily red tip and maintained eye contact as Changbin preferred. As the smallest boy dipped his head in closer, Changbin entangled his fingers with those gorgeous caramel trellises. He sighed out at the feeling of his cock hitting the back of Jisung’s throat, and groaned out lowly once he heard the other choke on it lightly.

“Fuck baby. Just like that..”

You then took in Jisung’s length as deeply as you could: and it was no easy feat. Where Changbin dominated in girth, Jisung made up for in length. The action sent Jisung whining helplessly on Changbin’s dick, which only drove the other boy further into his passion.

“You take me so well Sungie.” He cooed, and pulled out for Jisung to catch a few desperate gasps.

Your saliva gathered in the corner of your mouth, and you licked it up and down the sides of Jisung’s cock-- but only for a few moments. You swallowed him down, pushing down the back of your throat just as you had long learned how to do. Merely feeling the weight of him in your mouth sent your pussy throbbing and your legs twisting for some kind of sensation. Of course, Changbin had noticed.

“Open your legs sweetheart.”

You did as you were told, and his thick fingers came journeying through your soaked folds, and he toyed with your clit and slicked his fingers with your arousal. His index and middle finger circled around you: it was a sensation that you had dreamed of endlessly.

“Mm, Bin...” You moaned onto Jisung’s cock.

“Pretty pussy of yours must’ve missed this, hm? My fingers fucking your wet little cunt? I missed it too...”

You tried your best to maintain your strength once you had returned to sucking off Jisung’s dick, but you only seemed to unravel further. He rutted his hips into your mouth needily--an action which teased at your gag reflex, but you were stronger than that.

Jisung’s own slobber fell down the side of his neck which Changbin held, just so he could feel the way that he filled up his boyfriends throat. With his other hand, he dipped it further inside your pussy, fucking you slowly at first. You knew that he loved the way that your slick sounded on his fingers. In response, your helpless moans vibrated on your boyfriend’s dick.

“Y/n, I want your mouth too.” Changbin asked gravely with hooded and darkened eyes. You knew what you had to do next. His fingers slipped out from you, and you loathed feeling so empty, but you weren’t one to disobey him either.

Changbin made space for you to lay on your stomach next to Jisung and then tapped his wetted dick on your lips as well, leaving Jisung gasping next to you.

“Fucking show me how much you missed me.”

You took him in, and you had nearly forgotten how sizeable he really was. It was startling, and as soon as you took in his full length, you had to fight back tears over how thick he really was. Regardless, the way that he could stretch you out like this was purely addictive.

“Oh...fuck--baby...” Your boyfriends voice dropped several decibels. “My babies suck my dick s-so good don’t they?”

Jisung nodded in his wonder at you, and Changbin dipped his thumb into his mouth afterword. Jisung always did love the taste.

Changbin caressed your full cheek, “Don’t forget to share.”

You took a deep breath, then let Jisung take his turn again. As he did so, you resumed your work at jerking off his dripping tip, and he reached to slide between your folds with long fingers.

With both of your adoring glances, you and Jisung kissed and lapped up the sides of your boyfriend’s dick and his eyes rolled back at the ethereal sight.

“H-holy sh-shit--”

Your hips buckled once Jisung let his fingers plunge inside of you and high pitched mewls sent you clawing at Changbin’s hips for balance.

“W-wait...” Changbin pulled himself away, and you knew that he must’ve been practicing the best restraint he could. “Sungie, you wanna taste her pussy too? Taste how sweet she is?”

Jisung smiled widely, despite being a bit of slobbery and tear-stained himself.

“I’ve been waiting for months to!”

You looked to Changbin for approval.

“Sit on his face then sweetheart? Wouldn’t you like to ride his face for me?”

You nodded in your thrill, and the bedsheets crinkled under the sound of the three of you shifting your bodies back into the proper position.

As it often would, the windows to your room fogged with steam--even though it was a beautiful spring evening. Pillows were strewn everywhere, and some of them nearly fell off the bed. Nevertheless, you had never been cozier wrapped in the clean threads and with your sweating skin pressed against heated bodies.

Jisung firstly kissed at your wet lips, teasing and humming happily into them. He grabbed onto both of your thighs to open you further then pulled your folds apart to kiss directly on your bud--an action which sent you nearly screaming over how intense it all felt.

“You can be loud for us baby. There’s nothing to be scared of here.”

It was as if a switch had flipped within you, and each and every lap of Jisung’s tongue felt like the most euphoric sensation you had ever experienced. He looked utterly adorable under you with his pink and juicy tongue running stripes over your clit. Merely watching him like this was enough to bring you to your first orgasm.

“D-don’t stop S-sung...” You rolled your hips over his lips.

Changbin had snaked himself farther down Jisung’s body which glistened with a thin layer of sweat. He clicked the bottle of lube, then smoothed it over his length, finally aligning it over the smaller boy. Your hands grabbed out for something to hold onto: one of them within Jisung’s hair, and the other squeezing painfully into the headboard.

“Rough or slow Sungie?” Changbin laughed out wickedly.

“R-rough...” Jisung moaned onto your pussy, “H-hard...”

Changbin entered your boyfriend carefully, and both of them shuddered at the feeling. The room was full of all of your eroticism, and Jisung groaned out loudly at the connection. From the sounds your orgasm drew itself out too, and it was heightened even more when Jisung moved to pump his fingers deeply into you as well. He curved his fingertips in the way that grazed your cervix, and then sent you quivering pathetically over his face. Lower, Changbin dug his fingers into his boyfriends hips slamming into him without pause, and panting haphazardly.

“C-can yo-you cum for me??” Jisung whimpered in a way that was much too cute for his own good.

“Yes.” You answered, then fucked your hips over his plush lips and you clenched your teeth hard against your lip “Mm-fingers, Sung--please...”

Jisung did as he was told, and maintained his pace stimulating your g-spot then, and begging an orgasm out of your body. He himself whimpered like a puppy while he was fucked out. Had you not been focusing on your orgasm, you wished you could see it all happen.

“Ji--fuck--” Your hips violently shook, and you came with a searing heat that locked your walls tight around his fingers and dripped even further down your shaking thighs and splattered into his delicate features. It didn’t startle him at all, but he merely licked his lips free of your slick.

“B-Bin--” He gasped out, then you fell down in your aftershocks to watch the way that Changbin spread out your gorgeous boyfriend with sweat dripping down his chest and from his brow.

“Ride him, baby.” Changbin immediately ordered. “I want you to cum all over his dick, got it?”

With grabby hands, Jisung pulled you right into his chest once you had straddled him. He played with your nipples for a few fleeting moments as you got situated pushing his cock into your pussy still trembling from your last orgasm.

It was beautiful how he could fill you up like this. It was intimacy incomparable a closeness that only you had shared with him. In fact, he had actually been somewhat of a virgin when the three of you had met, and both you and Changbin were his first time. Knowing that he had only shared this part of himself with you and your boyfriend felt intoxicating in a way.

You flicked your hips over his length, and focused your strength on fucking him slowly compared to how relentless Changbin kept his pace at.

“I love you baby. Jisung, I love you so much.” You held his gaze.

Two tears fell from his cheeks--not out of sadness, but of his pure love for you.

He begged with a quivering lip, “Please kiss me.”

And you did. You kissed Jisung like he was as fragile as flower petals that could break with the smallest tear. You kissed his lips as sweet as candy and you kissed the last bits of your arousal away on the corners of his mouth.

Still, “Harder...” He begged, and your hips dipped lower and quicker over him.

“Want me to fuck you harder babyboy?”

Changbin threw his hands on your shoulders, then ran them down your spine to feel the way that you moved over Jisung’s dick.

“Want us to fuck you until you can’t say any more?” You tutted.

“Fuck, Sung, you feel so--”

“G-gonna make me cum-ngh!”

Changbin angled the boys hip up a bit further, and the sound of skin on skin filled the room.

You sang out the phrase, “~I didn’t hear you say it Sungie~”

Jisung’s face screwed up, and he gasped out loud enough for the neighbors to likely hear, but that didn’t matter in the slightest.

“Fuck me please.”

The thickness of the air in the bedroom clouded, and you fucked your beautiful boyfriend with your tightening walls as hard and as fast as you could, right until you brought yourself to the brink of another trembling orgasm, right over his dick. Changbin gifted a stinging slap to your ass then bit kisses into your shoulder right as you came undone for the second time, and Jisung’s eyes rolled to the back of his head once he came inside you at the very same moment. Your velvet walls tightened around his ribbons of cum inside and you collapsed against his gasping chest to warm him after his release.

Changbin set himself loose, groaning out loudly as he came too, and shook with delighted laughter that was mixed up in his happy little “oh’s.” and the hitch of his breath. His restless hands caressed every inch of your body that he could as he brought himself down, finally bowing down to kiss right into your shoulder blades and back. Jisung called out his boyfriend’s name too while he shook around him.

You coaxed yourself free of Jisung’s dick and Changbin wondered in the way that Jisung and made a creamy mess of your pussy. He then did the same watching how his seed spilled out of Jisung as well.

“Wow.”

The three of your sweating bodies clambered flat onto the mattress and the room fell quiet, leaving space for your breaths and the way that the spring evening sounded outside of your window: distant car horns, the hush of the breeze, the ebb and flow of the early arrival of cicadas.

“Are you okay?” Changbin asked the both of you with worried hands running over both of your sweating forms.

“Y-yeah. I am.” You smiled.

Jisung shied his flushed face with one of the bedsheets. “Me too.”

“I think...if you’d like, maybe the three of us could kind of, sorta, I dunno, stay connected for a little bit?” Changbin smoothed down the little hairs on your arm with the gentlest touch.

“If Y/n wants to?”

You exhaled peacefully into both of your boyfriends arms, and gave them a little hum to say yes. Changbin carefully wetted his dick with your slick, then guided himself into you pussy with his half hard dick, and it felt like a dream. Jisung too took a bit of lube in his hand as well, then pumped his dick with a shiver to then slide himself into your ass. The two of them swept over your body with light and fleeting kisses to your neck, shoulders, cheeks, nose and lips. You stayed the same: wonderfully full, and so close to them that it must’ve been unreal. While it hurt a little how they had stretched you out, you wiggled your hips still to feel even more of it. Your boyfriends sighed out at the feeling.

“Sweetheart, you do that any more and you’re gonna make us want to fuck you again.” Changbin scoffed.

“What if I want you to?” You traced the way that his deep brown hair curved over his ear. “What if I want you to fuck me like this...close...slowly...?”

“Sung?”

“If she wants to, I want to as well.”

Changbin held your hips firmly under the blanket, then started his slow thrusts into you with his dick that indulgently grew hard once more.

He whispered the promise over your lips, “We can do that for you baby.”

You don’t know how long the three of you had remained as such. Time became nothing of your concern as the night slipped on and both of them took every ounce of their time with you, slowly fucking up into your pussy and ass, the sounds of your slick renewed filled up the room. They brought out a couple more shaking orgasms from your core, each of them followed by careful kisses to soothe your shaking body.

“Such a good girl for us.” Jisung nibbled into your ear. His hand got tangled with the sheets too where he reached around to twist your nipples between his fingers.

“How do you want it baby? Do you want it inside?”

Changbin’s skin filled up your palm, then you slung a leg over his hip so he could hit your g-spot perfectly.

“P-please?”

“Of course. Sung?”

“--Mm-m’ close too.”

A few more moments of your symphonic moans, and you unfolded between them: one last orgasm that was so encompassing that you had slipped right into a space so safe, that you felt as if nothing in the world could touch you. Changbin finished off with unexpectedly adorable sounding grunt, and he throbbed within you to the tune of Jisung doing the same.

“Shit.” Jisung giggled, then nuzzled his head right into the nape of your neck.

“How was that angel?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

The three of you found solace in the skin on skin of it all: three people, three bodies that could be closer than two bodies ever could.

“Ready to clean off in our big-ass shower?” Jisung wiggled you in his giant hug.

“Small shower no more.”

“The problem is, who’s gonna get up first to get the water running?”

Condensation dripped down the windows, and the curtains blew softly with the spring air invading the room and carrying the smell of flowers and the mist lingering in grass.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Water dripped like rain over the pink of muscles and intermingled with the iridescent drops of soap bubbles which held little rainbows in and of themselves. Hair slicked to the sides of faces, and transparent streams coursed down the simple breaths on rising chests. Steam filled up your lungs, a reminder that it was all real.

You were here with them. It wasn’t some kind of dream that you had painted while in that room alone with yourself and the buzzing of a TV speaking in tongues that you didn’t know.

Even though they said nothing, but rather touched your body down, you could hear their thoughts like a melody.

They loved every bit of you, and it was written on their faces times two.

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @julesinthesoop

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anyoneseenadam · 3 years

Text

The Moon Spirit - three

Dorian x reader, Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)

Description: When you’re taught to be a queen from such a young age, nothing could go wrong. But when the king starts to fear your growing power you find yourself thrust into a world of faeries, evil magic and powerful men, learning to stand on your own can be harder than it seems.

warnings: Fenrys being cute, badass reader but like a shit ton of angst, allusions to sexual assualt (Fenrys canon stuff), mentions of weapons? idk if that counts

word count: 4.4k

a/n: so this took a while but it’s finally done, please comment it genuienly keeps me going cause it’s super easy to get unmotivated, hope you enjoy <3

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After he left you, Fenrys begrudgingly found himself back at the palace, bowed on one knee in front of Maeve. She looked cruelly beautiful as always but there was something more sinister sparkling in her eyes today, remaining quiet as he stood back to his full height, meeting her gaze with wavering confidence.

“Who have you been with?” she finally broke the silence and he cursed himself for thinking he could ever get away with that.

“I just walked a young girl home, she was new, and I was afraid someone may take advantage of her if she was alone,” he spoke truthfully, allowing Maeve to push into his mind as she searched for a hidden lie.

He watched as she drew in a sharp breath, something like fear flickering across her face before her tightly drawn lips spread into a wide smile.

“Come here,” she commanded, and he went to stand in front of her, close enough to smell her sickening perfume and to see the flawless texture of her skin. “Do you love this girl?”

He shook his head, no, and she ran a hand down his face in a motherlike way. “Good, you will be recruiting her.” His eyes widened and he had to put his energy into not flinching away.

“What?” he spoke with an incredulous tone and Maeve glared at his lack of respect making him bow his head. “Sorry your majesty, I’m just slightly confused. She was just a young girl and didn’t seem to have any former training.”

“And that’s why I’m in charge, you men are too foolish. That was a powerful girl, and I would rather she remained on my side than any other.” He frowned, powerful? She had seemed kind, lost and strong enough to hold her own – but not powerful.

“I need you to see her again, convince her to join.” Fenrys physically felt the command go through him and he stood taller again, nodding gruffly as she waved her hand in dismissal.

Your first few days of work had been harder than expected, and you had gone home with aching muscles from lifting books and sore cheeks from plastering on smiles. Albert had made your days easier, drinking hot tea with you as you slowly revealed more and more about your past to him, his kind, old eyes lulling you into a comforting state.

But you didn’t receive rest when you got home. Ploughing through books on spirits and practicing using the limited magic you had found until the early hours of the morning, getting barely two hours of sleep a night unplagued by nightmares. By your fifth day Albert had handed you a pot of cosmetic product to hide the circles forming, commenting on scaring the customers away as you stuck your tongue out at him but smearing some on regardless.

On the second Saturday after your arrival you had a day off and used it to venture into the market, your empty shelves no longer sustaining you, let alone Amaris. Your basket soon filled with colourful fruits and vegetables, and you were browsing the fish section when a shadow fell over you.

“Let me take that for you,” you turned to see Fenrys standing over you with that same easy smile, his head tilted slightly. You rolled your eyes, trying to block out the feelings expanding in your chest at just the sight of him.

“And here I thought I had lost you,” you muttered, and he laughed, taking your basket from you, and paying for the wrapped salmon you had just been passed. “You don’t need to do stuff like that,” you told him, and he took your arm as he led you out of the market.

“Can’t help myself, I see a pretty girl in need and boom, I have to help.” He joked and you laughed lightly.

“Oh yeah, the damsel in distress disease, I’ve heard that’s a nasty one to cure,” he smiled down at you with a sparkle in his eyes.

“Not really, all I need is a kiss,” he tugged you closer and you squealed, shoving him away as he laughed.

“As I said, nasty.” He dramatically put a hand to his heart, throwing his head back in distress.

“You wound me darling,” he complained, and you laughed, hating how much you genuinely enjoyed his company. You reached your apartment in no time, and he stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to your door.

“So no invitation of tea, a glass of wine, a home cooked meal?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes,

“I’m afraid I reserve that for people I like,” he raised his eyebrows, hopping up the steps two at a time.

“Even if I have genuine cause to talk to you?” he asked and the sincerity in his eyes made a shot of fear run through you. He couldn’t know, could he?

“What is it?” you asked, and he smiled softly, a little pain shining through his loving eyes.

“The queen has a proposition to make.” His voice quietened and you straightened your posture, your entire demeanour switching in a second.

“Come in.” you opened the door and stepped in, allowing him to duck as he followed.

The first thing he noticed was how barren your apartment was, a simple kitchen, connected to a room with a pale blue sofa and worn coffee table. Your shelves were bare, and he sneaked a look into your room as he passed the open door, your mattress on the floor covered by only a thin blanket and a few cushions, one incredibly expensive looking gold dress on the floor, stained dark red. But before he could venture further in he heard you cooing in an impossibly soft voice.

He turned the corner and blanched at the sight he saw, “What the?”

You turned from were you were feeding small bits of salmon to a pure white bundle of fluff that hissed as soon as it saw him. “Amaris, be polite!” you scalded, and he surveyed the cat with a wary look, untrusting of the small creature.

“You have a cat.” He stated, suddenly completely unsure of his taste in women.

“No he’s actually a spider,” you deadpanned and Fenrys pouted.

“But I thought you’d be a dog person,” he complained, and you laughed, moving to throw open the curtains in the room before you started putting away the food you had bought, boiling a pot of water over your stove.

“I just like animals, why does it matter?” you asked, and he threw his arms up before transforming into his wolf form. You gasped and Amaris meowed loudly, scampering to hide behind your legs.

“You’re a wolf.” You stated and he turned back with a smile.

“No I’m a spider,” you flipped him off as you turned to put the rest of your food away.

“I prefer you as a wolf, they’re one of my favourite animals,” you told him and he smiled, sticking his tongue out childishly at Amaris who just sauntered of to doze on a pillow.

“So, what does the queen want?” you asked, pouring the hot water into a pot you had prepared, and he sat down on your worn-down sofa, cringing as it creaked under his weight. You followed suit soon after putting the pot and two mugs down, curling your feet underneath yourself as you looked at him.

“Well, she has told me that you’re actually extremely powerful and because of this she wants to recruit you. She wants you to join the Cadre.” He spoke surely and confidently but his eyes shone with wariness.

“Okay first of all, I’m not at all powerful, secondly how would she even know if I was, which I’m not! And third, what is The Cadre?” he laughed slightly and moved forward to pour himself a cup of tea.

“Well you clearly are because she recognised you and always knows these things, trust me. She’s never wrong about this. And The Cadre is a group I’m in, elite soldiers sworn to protect Maeve.” He explained and you shook your head.

“Fenrys I barely know basic self-defence, I’m not a soldier. And I don’t want to be sworn to royalty.” Your hands were shaking slightly at the thought of being sworn to another tyrant, “Plus in all honesty I only found out I was Fae on Monday, so I’m not exactly well versed in this shit.”

“How did you not know before?” he asked – frowning.

“The country I… come from, there was no magic. The king wiped all magic out years ago.”

“Why?” It was an understandable question but still made you panic, he couldn’t know.

“I don’t know, all I know is he did, so those alike me – with magic but born into a magicless world – never got to know.” You were good at concealing emotions, that much Fenrys could see. You seemed to have iron walls built into the clouds around your heart, protecting it as fiercely as you would Amaris.

“Well, Maeve wants to meet with you soon, so let me know when you decide gorgeous,” he stood, and you smiled at him gratefully for not prying further.

“I’m really sorry Fenrys I just don’t think it’s a good idea. As I said I’m not a soldier.” He nodded but his eyes still conveyed a sense of worry.

“Well keep in mind you would get to train with me, probably shirtless.” He joked as you opened the door for him, grinning when you laughed loudly, shoving him through the door.

“Bye Fenrys,” you said, eyes sparkling as he waved, whistling his way down the street comically.

You closed the door as your smile fell, a weight settling on your chest as you already knew why he looked so wary – Kings and Queens didn’t understand the word no.

You practically ran to the library the next day, opting to bring Amaris with you as he peeked out of the small handbag you had found stuffed into the back of your closet. When you flew into the library you instantly sought out Albert, who took one look at your flushed, shining appearance and abandoned the pile of books he was putting away, motioning for you to sit down.

You sat quickly, huffing out a breath as Amaris crawled out of his makeshift home and started exploring the new territory of the small backroom reserved for staff only.

“What bothers you child?” Albert’s voice was steady as always and his dry, warm hands grasped yours gently as your eyes filled with unshed tears.

“I just – I needed to talk to someone,” you stuttered out, your breath coming in harsher pants as he shushed you.

“Take a minute and allow yourself to breathe first dear,” he commanded, and you pressed a hand to your heart as you tried to slow its pounding. “Start from the beginning, tell me what’s wrong.”

“The man I loved, his- his name was Dorian, Dorian Havilliard.” You said quietly and Albert let out a small chuckle.

“I presumed as much, I visited Adarlan once, and an old man never forgets the face of a princess.” You looked at him through blurry eyes, confused.

“You knew?” he smiled sadly at you.

“I was 90% certain, but I would never have pressured you to reveal secrets like that.” He passed you a tissue, “But I sense that’s not all that weighs heavy on you?”

You shook your head, “Queen Maeve has made clear that she wishes me to join the Cadre.”

Albert’s face changed with the clear shock, and you bowed your head, shamefully.

“And what did you say?” he asked slowly.

“No, of course! I don’t have any desire to be another monarch’s puppet.” You stated and he shushed you again.

“You need to remember that people always listen.” He scolded, repeating one of the first things he had told you when you started working. “I agree that you should be cautious, but perhaps gaining the queens protection would be beneficial. Plus you would become an extremely skilled swordsman.”

“I am not a man, nor do I wish to be.” You said through gritted teeth, “And I vowed that I would become skilled on my own and go back to Dorian.”

“Yes but if you join, you will be more skilled than ever before,” Albert reasoned and you shook your head, tears welling up again.

“I thought you’d be on my side for this, you are the one who told me to be careful around powerful people.” You felt unjustly betrayed as he spoke and his shoulders slumped slightly, sighing before grasping your hands lightly again.

“I am dear, and I urge you to do what you think is best. But I am simply reminding you that if you truly want to beat this king you are being offered power on a silver platter right now, and perhaps it would be foolish to deny yourself it.” You let his words run around your head as you worked overtime trying to figure out a plan.

“Say I joined – what do I need to do to ensure I don’t become another puppet?” you asked, and he smiled at you.

“First of all, she will offer a blood oath and you must refuse it with everything you have in you – she came to you remember you hold the power. On that note you must summon all those queenly powers of yours and ensure when you speak to her, she is meeting you and she is trying to win you over. Never the other way around.” You nodded, pocketing the information in your head. “When in the palace you are always being watched, always being listened to, so keep your wits about you. But I’m sure you’re used to that by now.”

You laughed under your breath, “It’ll be just like going home,” you commented, and he smiled.

“Sadly yes, now take this money. Go but a new dress and tomorrow you will take a carriage, you can’t walk there.” You thanked him softly, placing the gold in the purse you held, “You’re a kind girl, that is what makes you strong and that’s what will make you a good queen. Don’t let them take your heart.”

Your throat tightened and you nodded due to the lack of trust you held for your voice, standing, and collecting your bag in one hand and Amaris in the other. Albert stood to take you to the door with a smile, and a gentle pat on the shoulder.

“You can have tomorrow off work as well, however I feel our work together is already coming to an end.” You smiled softly, allowing him to pet Amaris’ head softly before he kissed your cheek gently, ushering you out the door.

“Have a good night Albert,” you said, turning to see him watching you with sorrowful eyes.

“Remember what I told you dear, don’t let them take your heart.” Your smile was sad as you spoke,

“I won’t.” You both heard the lie but, neither of you decided to correct it. Not tonight.

Of all the things Fenrys expected to see the next morning, you were the one he hoped for. But as he looked around at the powerful men surrounding the room he felt white-hot panic seize him as he realised what you were about to do. You hadn’t even looked at him when you walked in, keeping your eyes trained solely on Maeve, not even dropping them as you dropped in a low curtsy.

He was even more shocked by the blood red dress you adorned, the v-neck deep and skirts long with a slit up either leg, high enough to reveal the halter you wore with a silver dagger and a ruby encrusted hilt secured into place. Every man, woman and mouse watched as you walked through the room – head high and shoulders back, revealing enough to entrance everyone in the room but covering enough to keep them wanting more and he felt his anger grow as he watched you.

You waited with a soft, but condescending, smile on your face, allowing Maeve to regrasp some power by speaking first – every movement so calculated and precise. As he watched you he saw the power and understood the fear and lust building in the room.

“So I guess you heard my offer.” Maeve finally said, drawling low with relaxed posture.

“I did.” Your statement was short, to the point but you saw it grate Maeve’s nerves and smiled as sweet as spun sugar, “Your majesty.”

“And?” he watched as Maeve grew more agitated and was surprised she hadn’t killed you yet, usually not standing for even an ounce of insubordination.

“I am willing to accept on one condition – I’m not taking a blood oath.” He had to fight jumping in the air with glee as you spoke, so afraid you were going to get tangled in the mess he was in. Maeve’s face grew dark, but you held your ground, never letting your eyes stray lest she see your weakness.

“Well that’s simply not viable,” she stated, glaring you into the ground but you just smiled again, nodding with a polite laugh.

“I see, well this was a lovely meeting, gentlemen.” You raised your hand politely as you moved to leave, your eyes finally flittering over him and the rest of the cadre. You bowed once again to Maeve, making to leave when Maeve raised her hand.

“We are not finished.” She stated.

“Well I’m terribly sorry your majesty but I’ve made my terms extremely clear, and since you refuse to budge - I believe we are done.” Your voice was still sweet, but he watched your face change slightly, every bit a queen looking down upon her people. He couldn’t help but wonder were you learned to speak this way, but Maeve simply laughed.

“Yet here you are,” she spoke with a mocking tone, and you smiled with your teeth this time.

“Need I remind you that you sought me out, if I have terms it should be in your best interest to meet them if you wish me to join your miniature army.” Fenrys heard Lorcan snarl lowly next to him but gripped his arm in warning.

“Oh your training is impressive princess, but I’m afraid it will be of no use.” Your face didn’t budge as Maeve spoke, but Fenrys watched as something flickered through your eyes, “You see, I learn of misdemeanours in other courts very easily and I wish to show you what I learned of Adarlan.”

“There’s nothing you could show me that I won’t have seen before,” you said, and he watched the two of you laugh like you were mingling at a party instead of standing of in a court.

“Oh I’m afraid this is relatively new, you might reconsider your terms after this,” you stood straight as Maeve walked down the steps and moved to whisper something the rest of them couldn’t hear in your ear, her hand pressed lightly to the base of your neck.

She pulled away after a few minutes and he took in your now shaking hands, eyes filled with tears you clearly refused to let fall. You took in a steadying breath before speaking, “You’re lying.”

“Oh I wish I was princess, but I can only show the truth and it appears your prince had moved on rather quickly, what use is there going back to a country where you can no longer rule.” She stroked your hair condescendingly and you chewed the inside of your lip as it quivered. “But here, here – under my control – you have power of your own. Men will no longer hold onto you like a prized pony, you will become something they fear, you will be my perfect princess, the daughter I never got to have.”

Fenrys inhaled sharply, he knew Maeve never planned to relent the throne, especially not to a woman from another country. She looked at you like you were a doll, something for her to reshape and change. You must have seen it to, but through your blurry eyes everything had changed.

“Okay,” your voice was smaller than before, and he wanted to tear Maeve limb from limb for having broken you down so harshly with just a few words. She smiled cruelly at you as she cut a small line along her forearm and you bowed your head in pain, before falling to your knees – graceful even as pain consumed your entire being. You brought your lips to her wound and drank as she repeated the words that he remembered all too well.

When you rose your lips were sparkling red, and your eyes were glistening with tears still unshed – but you raised your head like a queen and Maeve smiled.

“I believe you have already met Fenrys, he will be training you as the training you have received is not proficient, I’ll have all your belongings brought to a room here.” Maeve waved her hand to some guards, but you stopped her.

“I only need Amaris brought here; the rest can burn.” You muttered.

“And for your new wardrobe?” She asked and you smiled looking down, wiping your mouth slowly.

“Make it red.” You finally met Fenrys eyes, and he stepped forward, desperate to drag you far, far away.

“Shall I escort her to her new room?” he asked Maeve and she flitted her eyes to him, then to the hand he had pressed to your back.

“Yes and then afterword’s come find me,” she smiled cruelly at him, and he felt you stiffen under his hand, but he just nodded and began to lead you out of the room.

He led you through the corridors and up the stairs in silence, angry at you for accepting and at himself for not putting up more of a fight. When he reached the room he presumed would be yours he opened the door for you, following you in as you sat on the bed, your usual lightness replaced by the weight on your shoulders.

He watched you bow your head and came to sit beside you, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise; this was my choice.” You said and he reached an arm around your shoulders, but you quickly shrugged him off.

“I shouldn’t, we shouldn’t, if you and the queen are…” you trailed off and Fenrys bowed his head in shame.

“It’s not like that, she, she makes me,” he muttered, and you inhaled sharply, turning to him with those watery eyes.

“I had no idea, I’m sorry,” you whispered, instantly looping your arms around him neck and holding him tight. “She’s a monster.”

Fenrys huffed a laugh, pulling away, “You’re telling me.”

He reached a hand for your face slowly, wiping under your eyes where a tear had escaped, “how did she change your mind?” he asked, dark eyes searching your face for clues as your bottom lip quivered in pain.

“She showed me home,” was all you said, and his shoulders dropped. He would leave it for now, you were young and clearly not ready to speak – and now, they had all the time in the world to speak.

“Sleep tight, training starts at seven tomorrow,” he stood and kissed your head lightly and you nodded, words getting caught in your throat. He left quietly, walking away as quickly as he could to avoid hearing the soft sobs that erupted as soon as he closed the door.

You could barely contain your tears until you got to your room, repeating rule thirteen over and over in your head, crying in public is only appropriate at funerals and weddings. But as soon as Fenrys left your room you sobbed into your hands, wailing, and crying like a child throwing a tantrum as you let out the emotions, the screams that have been locked inside of you for so long.

You had done everything for Dorian, changed every part of yourself and become the perfect princess, girlfriend, fiancé – and he, mere weeks after you had to run, was already moving onto a new girl.

As hard as you tried you couldn’t get rid of the image of him and the blonde girl out of your head. How he kissed her softly, his hand on her lower back where it always used to rest on yours. The smile when he pulled away, the way he laughed with her, the way Chaol smiled at his brother when he was happy. You had been forgotten, replaced, almost instantly, the warmth you used to feel when you thought of home, of your princes’ arms replaced by a tight chest and a cold feeling encompassing your heart.

“I’m sorry Albert,” you whispered into the air as you stood looking out on your balcony, gripping tightly to the rail as you feared your legs would give out, “She already took it.”

You were interrupted by a quiet knock on your door, wiping your eyes as you opened it – taking Amaris from the tall guards’ hands as a flurry of women pushed in, filling your drawers with clothes and cosmetics, candles and hair pins, books and plants, a million supplies for Amaris and then some. You smiled politely at them as they left without saying a word, in and out extremely quickly as you stared at a knot in the floor.

Another knock sounded soon after and you turned your head to see one of the Cadre staring in with piercing green eyes. You motioned for him to come in and stood, tilting your head up to meet his gaze as he took in your messy, tear-stained expression.

“You’re the first female member of the Cadre, ever.” He stated and you blinked slowly.

“Lucky me,” your tone was sarcastic, voice rough from the crying but the man smiled.

“I’m Rowan, it’s good to meet you.” He reached out a hand and you met it, allowing him to kiss the back gently.

“(Y/n)” you returned, with a slight curtsey.

“I look forward to fighting with you (y/n),” he stated, releasing your hand and turning to leave, stopping right before he reached the door, “Oh, and don’t lose that dagger, you’ll find a shocking number of men dislike powerful women.”

“First I’m hearing of this,” you deadpanned, and he chuckled.

“Goodluck kid.”

#fenrys moonbeam x reader #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys x reader #dorian havilliard x reader #dorian x reader #dorian havilliard #throne of glass #tog #rowan whitethorn

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weelittleweasley · 3 years

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Amnesia (p1) | Draco x Reader

Prompt: The Battle of Hogwarts was one that was hard on everyone mentally and physically. During the war, you took a brutal fall, hitting your head, which caused you to lose your memory, amnesia if you will. You forget a solid chunk of your life, specifically your last few years at Hogwarts and the relationships you made with certain people, including your romantic relationship with Draco Malfoy. What happens in Part One of this multipart series?

Warnings: language, violence, blood, memory loss, death, mentions of PTSD, anxiety

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: This story is not about romanticizing mental health issues. These are serious conditions and this story is not meant to romanticize or fantasize these topics. It’s used as a vessel to convey a different story. That being said, please take care of yourself and sending everyone lots of love. Enjoy part one :)

Flashbacks told in italics!

War, chaos, violence, and then silence. Peace. The rubble had fallen, the chains had been broken, and the dust had settled. But things weren’t over. No, quite the opposite. This was just the beginning of it all.

Hogwarts, as you knew it, was falling to the ground. Everywhere you looked around you saw stones falling, students running, flashes of light and fire, the echoes of screams, yet the only thing on your mind was finding him. Finding the blonde boy who you loved so much your bones shook and you heart ached. You ran through the halls, dodging falling stones and avoiding spells, curses, and hexes from wands. Your breath was uneven as you ran down the stairs, screaming at the top of your lungs, your throat burning, “Draco!”

As you ran down the hall, your body collided with that of your closest friend. “(Y/N), you have to run, get out of here, Draco is gone, there’s no use searching for him,” Ron grabs your face in his hands, desperately trying to shake some sense into you. He searched your eyes for any sense of hope; he needed it now more than ever. His face was covered in dried blood and fresh blood, his hands covered in dirt and his eyes full of panic. He needed you to survive this war, if it was the last thing he could do. “Listen to me,” he shakes you as you let a sob escape your lips. “Draco is gone. Okay? He left.”

You shake your head ferociously. “He wouldn’t do that, he’s here. He’s waiting for me. He told me he would wait for me and he’d see me at the end of this,” you yell at Ron, your ribs aching and knees weak. You’d recall when Draco furiously kissed your lips hours before this all dissolved into madness, telling you to stay where you were and he’d come back for you. Draco promised that you both would run away from this and go somewhere you couldn’t be found. Away from his father, away from the Dark Lord, away from magic, away from it all. He wanted to escape just as badly, if not more than you. “I need to find him,” you pushed Ron off with all the might you could muster in your frail body. “Draco!” you scream again, your voice cracking, too weak to echo anymore.

Ron grabs you by the waist now, pulling you away as you kick and scream in his grip, demanding he let you go. “I’m not letting you get killed!” Ron yelled. “I already lost Fred and I’m not losing you too!” he screams, his voice cracking with anger and fear. “Hermione, help!” Ron calls to Hermione who grabs your fists that pound on Ron’s chest.

“Let me go!” you sob, breaking down under the grip of your two close friends, completely losing yourself to your emotions. “I need to find Draco,” you manage to speak in between sobs, choking on your own tears and cries. “He could be dead for all I know! Please let me find him,” you grab onto the collar of Ron’s shirt, begging him, staring into his eyes as tears pour out of yours. “I need to find him. He could be out there, looking for me, calling for me. I need him, Ron, let me go, let me go find him!”

Hermione wraps you in her arms, trying to get you to stop crying as they pull you behind a wall. She whispers in your ear that you needed to protect yourself. You couldn’t worry about Draco anymore. He was a lost cause. But how could you forget about him? This was the man you loved so violently that you would die before you let anything bad happen to him. He was your one and only and you knew that the day he kissed you for the first time. “You need to stay here. Right here. You understand me? This is a matter of your life and death, do you understand?” Hermione scolds you. “Under no circumstances do you run for anyone. You run for your life if someone tries to kill you. You fight back. But under no circumstances do you do anything else, do you understand me?” she yells at you, needing you to understand that you needed to survive this.

With a shaky breath, you nod. Hermione looks at Ron before Hermione runs back to the chaos, flicking her wand, sending beams at Death Eaters, protecting the students. Ron looks at you, tears still in his eyes as you hold back your sobs. Ron engulfs you in a large hug before pressing a firm kiss to your forehead. “I need you to live. Please,” he begs you, clinging onto every last bit of hope he has. “I’ll find you at the end of this and we’ll be okay.” You shake your head, giving him a tight hug again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you tell him before he joins Hermione, running off protecting her and fellow students.

So there you stood behind the concrete wall, looking around as others fought and got struck. People were getting killed all around you and you were being suffocated by the sight. Why were you just standing here not fighting back? Deliberately disobeying Ron and Hermione’s orders, you run from the wall, flicking your wand swiftly, pushing back Death Eaters, defending yourself and other students. You stood proudly beside your fellow classmates, slashing your wands, casting spells and fighting the good fight.

As you fight alongside your classmates, you turn your head, keeping a 360 on the area. But that’s when you see him. His blonde hair covered in dirt, his concerned face looking behind him as his mother and father guide him away from the scene, across the bridge. From a distance, you see him look in your direction as your heart sinks. He was leaving without you.

“Draco,” you whisper, forgetting about everything in the world and focusing on him. “Draco!” you scream with every last fiber in your body. You launch yourself into a run down the stairs and towards the bridge. You push people out of your way in a beeline for your love, hoping that he’ll stop for you, but he doesn’t. His parents keep an iron grip on him, pulling him along the bridge. Draco turns around, seeing you run as he tries to writhe out of his mother’s grip. His face is full of concern, but he can’t escape. His father puts his body in front of Draco’s as Draco screams out in pain and fury. “Draco!” you yell.

Your feet carry you as fast as possible as you run toward the bridge, trying to get to him as quickly as possible before it was too late. Draco claws at his father, trying to get past him. As you run you feel your breath becoming short and your lungs burn, but you ignore the sensation and push. You need to get to him. He needed to get to you. You needed to save each other.

But that all came to a screeching halt when you name being yelled out in horror by Draco. “(Y/N), watch out!” someone screams a blood curdling scream as you look up to see a large rock come crashing down.

And that’s when it went white. Your hearing gave out. You went numb. There was silence. Deafening. Palpable. The silence screamed for a million years and then a million more.

But then there was a roar. Your ears rung and yelled. Your brain thumped against your skull, your lungs burned like you swallowed ash, and your mouth tasted of metal and dirt. You repeated told yourself to open your eyes, but you couldn’t. You tried again and again, but nothing. All you could sense was ringing in your ears and muffled voices. Who was it? Who was talking? You couldn’t understand anyone or what they were saying. It all sounded like a different language. What happened?

Even though your brain was running at a thousand miles an hour, you crashed. Your senses gave out and the silence was back. Deafening. Palpable. The silence screamed again for another million years.

But this time there was a roar and your eyes shot wide open. You sucked in a large breath like you couldn’t breathe before. Your lungs swelled with oxygen, but hurt when you took deep breaths. It took you a second before you felt the rupture of pain that carried from the back of your head to the front. You sucked in a sharp breath, placing a hand where it hurt the most.

As you looked down, you noticed the white sheets covering your body and the small hospital bed you lied down in. Thin hospital robe on your body and on your arm stuck out multiple IVs and monitors. You heard your heart rate monitor picks up speed as your anxiety grew with every passing second. What happened to you? Why were you in the hospital? Who brought you here?

When you try to remember what happened to you, you can’t recall a single thing. You can’t even pinpoint what your last memory was, they all just mesh together. Before you can think about what is going on, the door opens up and a Healer’s assistant walks in. “You’re up,” she smiles. “Hello, (Y/N). How are you feeling?” she has a bright grin and calming eyes. This puts you at ease.

“My head hurts,” you respond.

She gives you a knowing smile. “I’m sure it does. You got severely concussed a few days ago,” she grabs a clipboard from the side table and starts scribbling down notes and checking your vitals.

Your eyes go wide, “A few days ago?” you speak bewildered.

The Healer’s assistant takes your temperature with a muggle thermometer before handing you a glass of water. “Yes, a few days ago,” she confirms. “You were in and out of consciousness a few times before you woke up today. Just to put your mind at ease, you have a few broken ribs, that’s why it may be a little hard to breathe and a sprained wrist. We administered you a healing potion, so you should be fully recovered in a few days, but you should still monitor yourself. Your brain, however, is still bruised.” She places down the clipboard and walks back to the door. “Let me tell the Healer that you’re awake. In the meantime, I think there are some people who want to see you.”

You sit up in bed and patiently wait for your visitors. The door swings open and in floods your mother and father. “Mum, Dad,” you smile as they both have tears in their eyes when they see you. They hurry to your side, crying into your hospital gown, kissing your face, thanking Merlin that you were alright. You hold onto them tight, afraid to let them go, as you let a few happy tears fall from your eyes.

“We thought you were dead,” your mother looks at you as you wipe her tears away, holding onto her and your dad’s hands. “Thank Merlin they got you to the hospital as fast as they could. Madam Pomfrey had taken good care of you before they brought you here,” she tells you. “I can’t believe you are alright.”

You spent a few hours with your parents, the Healer coming in a few times, speaking about how you had to take it easy and how you are lucky to be alive. Your father and mother, however, were acting a little strange whenever they spoke to the Healer. One would get up and speak to him in hushed tones as the other distracted you with conversation, but you couldn’t help but be curious as to what they were leaving you out of. What was going on?

“Mum?” you ask her as your dad whispers to the Healer. “What are they taking about?” you question. She just brushed it off and says he just wants to know how quickly your recovery would be. You knew she was lying, but rather than implore for answers, you let it be. You were tired.

A few more hours past when the Healer’s assistant from earlier came back in. “Hi, (Y/N), visitor hours are almost done, but you have a few more people who came in to see you,” she tells you as you furrow your brows. She motions her hand to let the visitors in.

When the visitor’s step in it takes you a second to register who they were. Your brain was trying to put names to their faces. You knew that you knew them. You felt your excitement grow when you saw them. You could tell that you had a deep connection to them because when they saw you, both of them started sobbing tears of joy. The girl with fluffy brown hair covered her mouth to conceal her sobs, but a large smile was on her face. Beside her the ginger boy stood, taller in stature but tears running down his face as he silently cried when he saw you. “You’re alright,” he whispers.

Your parents give you and these visitors some privacy, leaving the room so it’s just you three. You stay silent, but a smile is on your face. What are your names? The boy slowly approaches your bedside, sitting next to you, and gently grabbing your hand. He squeezes it and brings another hand to brush the hair out of your eyes. His touch was loving and delicate, handling you with the utmost care. That’s when it hit.

“Ron fucking Weasley,” you laugh as he joins in, pressing his forehead against yours. Ron laughs and cries against you as you cup his cheek gently. It felt like forever since you saw him. You give his hand a squeeze before pulling away and looking at the girl. “Thought I forgot about you, Granger? Get in here,” you speak as she laughs and joins the small group hug, still making sure not to hurt you. The three of you sit and cry and laugh for what feels like hours. “Where have you all been?” you ask with a smile.

Hermione laughs, “Well, for starters, you’ve been out for four days since your injury.” She rubs your arm. “We’ve all been really worried about you. Harry, too, but he’s also in recovery right now. You’ll see him as soon as you’re discharged from the hospital.”

You nod, the image of Harry Potter popping up at the mention of his name, significant memories flooding back into your brain of him. You think of year four when you had a crush on him briefly during the Triwizard Tournament and you smile at the memory. You also remember Ron teasing you about it after that crush died out, Harry laughing along with you both. Then a question pops up in your mind. “You guys,” you start. “How did I get injured? The Healer told me it’s mostly a head injury, but I don’t remember it. Did you see it happen?”

Ron and Hermione uncomfortably shift in their seats as Hermione shakes her head to Ron, letting him explain what happened. “During the battle, you were running for Draco when a piece of rubble came crashing down and hit you in the head,” Ron explains gently and slowly, making sure not to disturb any trauma that could be sprung up from the horrific scene. Ron recalls watching it unfold and the wind being knocked out of him as it happened. Ron remembers running to your side, screaming for someone to help pick you up and get you to Madam Pomfrey. Ron shakes the memory away and breathes in deeply. Recalling the day was too emotional for him and it happened to recently for him to relive it. He was careful with his words, stroking your hand as he explained what happened.

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Wait, hold on,” you laugh. “Battle? Is that like a new name for a quidditch match or something? I know that I play quite aggressive during games, but I didn’t think it was going to hospitalize me.” As you attempt to crack a joke, Hermione and Ron’s eyes go wide before they look at each other in fear. It was worse than they had thought. “What?” you asked, the concern raising in your voice. “What are you hiding from me?”

Hermione gulps, “Do you not remember the war?” The scoots closer to your bed, seeing if you were playing a joke on them, but you were deadly serious.

“War?” you repeat. “About what? Is He back?” you question, wondering if the Dark Lord was back. You remember Cedric Diggory’s death like it was yesterday, Harry yelling on the field over his dead body that the Dark Lord had returned. Hermione and Ron stutter, trying to find the words. “What’s going on? Are you guys playing a sick joke on me?” you start to frantically ask. “Did Fred and George put you up to this?” At the mention of Fred’s name, Ron instantly tenses and his breath hitches in his throat. Hermione rubs his back, comforting him, holding him close to her as if something happened to Fred. What was going on? Confusion darted through your brain. “I need to go take a breather for a second,” Ron sighs, rising from his chair. “I’m glad you’re awake, (Y/N).” Ron kisses your forehead before walking to the other side of your hospital room, opening the window for some fresh air.

Hermione looks back at you and grabs a hold of both of your hands. “(Y/N), I need you to be completely honest with me like I am being with you right now. What do you remember from Hogwarts? List out the last few things you remember. I need to know,” she pleads, looking deep into your eyes searching.

Your breath picks up as your lungs fill with oxygen, burning from the rapid movement. Your heart rate sky rockets and the back of your head starts to tingle in pain again like it did when you first woke up. Trying to recall your memories, your brain feels like it’s being squeezed. Not much comes up. “I don’t know, ‘Mione,” you tell her. “I remember Cedric’s death, I remember going home for the summer that year, I remember coming back to school and Harry being on edge because no one believed him about the Dark Lord, I remember that twat Umbridge,” you tell her, “but after that the rest is a blur...” Hermione looks at Ron who’s eyes are wide in disbelief. It was much worse than they thought. “What in the bloody hell is this war you’re talking about?”

Ron looks to Hermione and then looks to you and says, “(Y/N), what year of Hogwarts are we in?”

You take a second to think. If your memory and your timeline serves you right, you were in year five. “Year five...it’s 1995...why?” you respond. Wasn’t it obvious?

“Bloody hell, this isn’t good,” Ron runs his hands through his hair. Your eyes widen and your heart rate picks up, lungs burning from the rapid inhalations you were breathing in and out. Your head was pounding now. What was happening? Were you wrong? You were sixteen, right? How could you be mistaken? Ron paces back and forth as Hermione remains deadly still. Did your parents not tell you?

The more you think, the more your head hurts. “Wait a second,” you stop the small chatter between Ron and Hermione. “You said I hurt my head because I was running to Draco Malfoy?” you ask as your close friends shake their heads. “Why? I’ve had a total of four conversations with him. Why would I be running after him?”

And that’s when the severity of the situation hit Granger and Weasley. “Go get the Healer,” Hermione commands Ron as he dashes out of the room. “You are being honest with us, right?” she asks as you rapid shake your head. Why would I be lying? “(Y/N), you cannot freak out about this, okay?” she looks at your heart monitor as it beeps quickly, picking up the pace with every passing second. “Okay,” she breathes out. “Listen to me,” she grabs your hands, squeezing them. As she does so, Ron enters back in with the Healer from before. They observe what Hermione does. “(Y/N), you are eighteen. Hogwarts had a battle against Voldemort where many people died and sacrificed themselves for the greater good. That’s where you got injured. You were running to Draco to find him because he-”

“Hold on,” the Healer stops Hermione. “Don’t overflow her with information, she can have an aneurysm from the anxiety and overstimulation.” Hermione rises from her chair as the Healer replaces her seat. “(Y/N), I need you to look at me and breathe. Try to relax yourself.”

At this point you are hyperventilating. “What is going on? Did I miss two years of my life? How long was I asleep for? What war happened? Is this what you and my parents were talking about before? Are you all lying to me?” you start to panic. You look around, needing to get out, out of this room, out of this gown, out of your own head. You felt like you were being tortured from the inside out. “Get these fucking tubes out of me,” you claw your arm as the Healer grabs your hands in attempt to cease your manic movements.

“I need you to listen to me, I will give you the answers you want, (Y/N), okay?” he attempts to reason with you as you try to wiggle out of his grip. “I will tell you what you want to know. Hermione and Ron will be with you the whole time. None of us are lying to you, okay? You just need to trust us,” the Healer speaks slowly as not to rile you up.

Slowly, you let your breathing even out as you lay back in bed, looking at Ron and Hermione. You give them scared looks as Ron grabs your hands, giving them a squeeze, Hermione sitting herself next to you on the bed. “Okay.”

The Healer takes a deep breath in and starts. “You are eighteen, recently graduated from Hogwarts. Hogwarts went through the second wizarding war, which you fought in very bravely. In the midst of it, you saw someone you loved and you ran over to him and got a nasty head injury. The head injury has caused you to have something called temporary amnesia or memory loss. That being said, you can’t remember the past two years of your life,” he tells you.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. You don’t know what to say or do. You just sit in shock as your mouth goes dry. You feel like you’re going to vomit, pass out, scream, cry, or all of the above. How could this just happen to you? You just forgot everything that happened over the past two years? So much could have happened and yet you couldn’t recall an ounce of it. You only remembered up to year five and then your brain just shut you out. Your body was working against you. “What?” you ask breathlessly, tears starting to pool in your eyes as the Healer gives you the sorriest look you have ever seen. “I-I-I don’t understand how can my brain just forget?”

“I’m so sorry you are going through this,” the Healer tells you as you look to Ron and Hermione who are starting to cry now. This couldn’t be happening. “But that being said, this amnesia is temporary. It will wear off, but we don’t know when. It can just come back one day and that can be scary, I know. But you have great resources and friends and family and a boyfriend who will help you navigate through this. I will give you a minute to talk to your friends,” the Healer squeezes your arm before leaving the room.

As the door closes behind him, you erupt into sobs. Hermione cradles you in her chest as violent sobs rippled through your body, causing pain to shoot through every fiber in your body, but you didn’t care. Your brain didn’t work like it should and that was a horrifying thought. Why you? Why you of all people? Why was this happening? Who did this to you? How could this happen? Who let it happen? Too many questions danced in your head that you were unable to answer.

Ron pulls your head up to look at him. “We’re going to get through this,” he tells you. “You have me, you have Hermione, you have Harry, you have your parents, you have our friends,” he smiles at you.

“What did the Healer mean when he said I have a boyfriend? Who? Why can’t I remember him?” you speak through sniffles. You had a feeling that your boyfriend was a certain someone, but the thought of him being your romantic interest made your stomach churn.

Your two friends gulp, trying to figure out how to navigate this situation. “You know how I said you ran over to Draco Malfoy when you got hit?” Hermione says. “It’s him. Draco Malfoy is your boyfriend.”

That’s when you think your heart is going to fall out of your stomach. You could only pinpoint a few memories of him throughout what you can remember. You remember Draco being cruel and mean to you and your friends. He called Hermione a mudblood, he teased Ron relentlessly, he always had a bone to pick with Harry, and he made fun of you until you cried multiple times. How could you love someone like him?

Almost as if one cue, the Healer’s assistant came back in and said, “(Y/N), visitor’s hours are over in twenty minutes, but there is someone in the waiting room for you. He insists that he knows you and he’s your boyfriend. The name is Draco Malfoy.”

Everyone and the air freezes. He was here. He came to see you. He didn’t forget about you, but you certainly did with him. Although he was one of the last people you wanted to see right now, there was a feeling in the pit of your stomach that told you to let him in. He may have the answers you need. Ron and Hermione insist that she turns him away, but you halt their demands, you saying, “Bring him in. I want to see him.”

She nods and leaves the room as Ron and Hermione just look at you shocked, knowing that this is not going to end well for anyone. “Why did-”

“Because I want to know if he has answers,” you simply state, eyes not moving from the door. If Draco really was your boyfriend, then he should know you better than yourself. Maybe Draco could bring back your memory. Maybe he could help you recover quicker. Then his nightmare would be over.

The door swings open and there he stood, in all black, hair disheveled, a worried look on his face. Draco looked sick. He was pale and looked thin, almost sickly. When his eyes meet yours, tears fill his eyes and a soft smile appears on his face. “Darling,” he breathes out as he steps closer to you. Ron and Hermione instinctively stand up to protect you as he looks over to them, at first angry, but then he sees the looks on their faces and that’s when his fear worsens. He understands with just a look. The situation was worse than he had thought. He thought you would wake up and you would pick up from where you left off. He had explaining to do, but he was ready to work it through with you. But this situation was one he was not prepared for. Draco looks back at you and says, “You...don’t...”

“No,” you shake your head. “I’m sorry, Draco, but I don’t know you like you think I do.”

In that moment, all of Draco’s memories of you flooded his mind. The first time he remembered thinking that he liked you. You were in the room of requirement when Umbridge busted Potter and you had a horrified, yet angry look on your face. As you left the room, you pushed Draco out of the way, looking at him with a disgusted face.

“You’re despicable, Malfoy,” you spit at him.

Draco let a smirk appear on his face as he bit his lip. “If you want me that badly, (Y/L/N), you should just come to my room tonight,” he spoke, eyes raking you up and down, knowing it would annoy you.

You rolled your eyes before stomping on his foot, him wincing in pain as the boys around him laughed. “If you want to get slapped next time, you should have just asked,” you mimic him. “You’re deplorable.”

Although the memory was not a happy one, Draco was fond of it because he knew you were hard to get and Draco lived for the chase. He knew you could hold your own and not depend on him for everything; you were independent and he found that irresistible. It wasn’t long after that that he had asked you on a date, starting a rollercoaster of relationship. You were there for him in his darkest times, in the hours where he felt himself slipping away, but you were always there to pull him back out and show him the light to which he was forever indebted to you.

Draco knew that he had no greater love than the love he had found with you and if he had to fight like hell for it, then he would, the rest of the world be damned.

So there he was, standing in front of you in a hospital bed, the sight already making him sick to his stomach. He looked over to Ron and Hermione as if to ask them to give him some alone time with you. Your two friends looked back at you, to which you nodded, them giving your hands a squeeze before leaving the hospital room.

Now you were alone, staring at the boy in front of you who you were supposed to know everything about and him to you. But instead, your mind drew blank. You couldn’t remember anything about him besides what you had known up to year five. You got no feeling of excitement when you saw him in comparison to the reaction you had when you saw Ron and Hermione. You didn’t feel like you had a connection with him. You just felt numb. Tingling from exhaustion and burning with pain in your head and lungs. So badly you wanted to close your eyes and go to sleep, hoping that this was a sick dream and when you woke up things would be okay.

“You remember nothing?” he asks, blue eyes like the ocean brimming with tears that threatened to pool over, but disappeared when he took a deep breath in, his attempt to remain strong in front of you.

“I remember up to year five,” you correct him. “I don’t remember any of our relationship,” you confess.

This makes Draco’s heart plummet into his stomach, but he tries to not show it on his face. He slowly tries to approach your bed and reach for your hand, hoping that his touch would make you remember something, anything. But when he extends his hand out to touch you, you pull away, looking at him way too confused and scared to touch him back. You barely know who he was, why would you want to touch him? As if this whole situation couldn’t get any worse. He had run away from his mother after his father was taken to Azkaban, in hopes to find you and fulfill the dreams that you two had of running away from this place and magic to start a new life together. A clean slate. But his dreams came crashing down from around him. Now Draco had to pick up the pieces and build everything back up exactly as it was. Or else he didn’t know what he’d do. Draco had poured everything into this relationship of yours just for it all to be thrown away due to a nasty head injury. This had to be a sick joke crafted by his father in some way shape or form. But he wished it was that simple.

Draco shakes his head, “Right.”

You look at the deeply broken boy in front of you and you feel sorry for him. Even though you cannot remember anything about your romantic history, your heart aches for him. This must be difficult to go through. Someone you love not know who you are. What kind of sick torture. “I’m sorry,” you tell him. “I wish I could remember.”

He offers you a sad smile, “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.” You just nod your head as the two of you stay in this silence for a moment. “It’ll come back, right? Your memories?”

Nodding gently, you speak, “That’s what the Healer said.”

Draco sits in that moment, knowing that there was hope for you and your relationship. But it was just a matter of if he was willing to fight for it.

To be continued

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