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melancholy-of-nadia · 2 days

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nuts. (m) | knj

title: nuts. (m) pairing: knj x reader(f) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; neighbors au , age-gap au (reader is 25, namjoon is 30); grad student au summary: Your future is clear. Pass the LSAT. Go to SNU law school. Become a prosecutor, and be successful. At least, that’s what your mother wants. But when you fail the LSAT, you have to come to terms with the fact that your mother’s wishes might not line up with your own. Out sulking in the rain after an explosive argument, help comes in the form of your sex-crazed neighbor, Kim Namjoon - the very man who’s constant moaning and fucking from next door is the reason why you became so distracted from studying! And since it’s his fault things have resulted this way, it’s only fair that he take responsibility, right? note: heavily inspired by the first 4 chapter of the korean webtoon "where the heart is" - 가족이 되어주라 , with minor dialogue and event changes note 2: this is pretty unedited lmao.... so if there are mistakes i'm so sorry. warnings: language, reader is stressed, best friend! taehyung, dialogue heavy, namjoon is cold, very much rpwp joon, joon is half naked a lot, dilf joon, slight angst, a little too relatable to a mid life crisis, a little bit of drinking, kinda rough s*x, CONSENSUAL protected s*x, cunn*lingus, finger*ng, attempted blowj*b, b*ckshots, joon is too smooth, RIDING, n*pple play, french kissing, did i mention this is her FIRST TIME, yeah and first kiss, namjoon is vague about his living situation? drop date: May 28th, 2023, 1:00pm pst word count: 6.9k crossposted on ao3 here —

“Remember, you’re the one that asked me to show you.” Namjoon’s voice is a low, steady rumble, his breath hot against your ear as he pins you down on his bed, his strong hands gripping your wrists.

If you could, you’d give anything to return to that moment. And you really mean anything. On that extremely rainy day, when your neighbor approached you, trudging through the downpour.

That unforgettable day was the first time you had sex.

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚

You pace around your bedroom, frustration bubbling up inside you. The muffled moaning, thumping and groaning coming from the other side of your wall are impossible to ignore. You’re so done! You try to distract yourself, playing some lofi beats softly in the background but no, the noise is relentless, making it hard to focus on anything else.

How are you going to manage to pass your exam to get into law school if all you can hear is the fucking from next door? You need to get into law school and if you don’t, your mom is going to kill you.

With a huff, you throw yourself onto your bed, staring at the ceiling in exasperation. Grabbing your phone from the nightstand, you unlock it and open the KakaoTalk app. You scroll through your contacts until you find Kim Taehyung, your best friend. If there's anyone who can offer some comfort or at least a distraction, it's him.

You begin typing furiously, your thumbs flying over the keyboard as you pour out your endless complaints and rants.

But all of a sudden, there’s a quietness. Huh? What’s going on? Why did the sounds suddenly stop?

You get up and lean your head against the wall, hearing a murmuring from people on the other side. You try to make out the words. Turn… Around…?

Wait. Turn Around?! Your face flushes in embarrassment from hearing these words and thinking about the implications of them.

The ding of a new text from Taehyung yanks you out of the depths of your mind and you yell, dropping your phone on your bed. A few seconds later, your mom opens the door to your bedroom. “Y/N, I brought you some snacks...”

“Mom!” You yell this time, startled by her sudden appearance and taking a deep breathe. “You… scared me.”

“Why are you so jumpy? Don’t tell me you’re looking at something weird again.” She scowls at you.

You grab your phone, faking a phone call with Taehyung. “H-Hey, you don’t have to yell into the phone like that. You startled me Tae!” You can't have her getting suspicious or hearing the sounds from next door.

Her scowl deepens. “You were reading those gay japanese comics again, weren’t you?”

“No, of course not, I was talking to Taehyung..!” you whisper urgently, hoping to divert her attention.

That was one time! Months ago, might you add! You should’ve never left your phone face up while you went to pick up your package from the front door. She doesn’t seem convinced by your excuse and sighs in exasperation.

You get up, head toward the front door of your apartment and slip on your slides. “Mom, I’m gonna step out for a bit and talk to Tae on the phone.”

“Be back in 30 minutes then,” she responds, her tone softening slightly.

You close the door behind you, leaning against it with a sigh of relief. That was close. If your mom ever found out you were eavesdropping on what the guy next door was doing, you'd never hear the end of it. You look at your phone again and check Taehyung's text.

You sigh, walking over to lean against the railing on the veranda, overlooking the city from the 4th floor.

The summer sun is bright and the heat is strong as it hits your skin. It’s been a while since you’ve had such a nice day. You’ve mostly been stuck inside studying. But despite not many people out and about, it’s so noisy. It’s all these cicadas.. And if you’re being completely honest, the noises from next door are nowhere near as loud as these damn cicadas. Your neighbors’ sounds are so faint that you have to press your head against the wall and yet, you’re the one who can’t stop eavesdropping on what’s happening next door.

You look at your phone again as you hear another text notification. You appreciate Tae trying to lighten up the situation, but you don’t want him to make too much of a fuss over it.

You begin to type a response: Nah, it’s okay, don’t worry about it. I’ll try to ignore the moaning… Before your finger hits send, It's in this moment that you hear a creak from a door opening behind you. You instinctively turn to view the source of the sound.

And there he is.

It’s your neighbor, pulling up an unlit cigarette to his lips as he walks to stand against the veranda railing for a smoke break. He wears gray shorts, his short-sleeved black shirt unbuttoned, with a full display of his upper body, abs and all. Wait, his abs? Chest? Oh my god, he’s basically naked.

He looks exactly like one of those dilf or daddy dom characters you read about in manga. Strong, commanding, and ridiculously hot. These men really do exist…

“Huh?” you end up saying out loud, which makes him look at you in confusion.

Fuck fuck fuck. What’s wrong with you? Eyeing your neighbor like this!? In a panic from being caught checking him out, you suddenly lean too far against the railing and feel yourself slowly falling off. Huh?!

You try to grab relentlessly at the air for some sort of hold as a last resort, but it’s useless.

Is this really it!?

You brace yourself, heart racing, but before you can comprehend what’s happening, a strong arm grabs you, pulling you back to safety. You find yourself pressed against someone’s chest, a strong male hand still gripping your arm firmly.

Holy fuck that scared you half to death!! When you turn your head, you see that it is your neighbor who saved you. What? How did he—? Before you can conjure up more questions, your eyes slowly look down and you are against his check. Holy shit… you never realized how broad he is. “Hey. You can move now,” he says, his voice deep and unamused. You nod, your face flushing with embarrassment as you quickly step back, putting some distance between the two of you. “O-Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to… um, fall.” Goddamn it, get it together, Y/N. “Thanks… you pretty much saved my life.” As you fully take a good look at him, you realize you had no idea he was hiding this hot ass body under those baggy t-shirts you always see him wear. But holy shit, he’s ripped. He may be some sex fiend, but no wonder he’s been getting all that action. You don’t realize you are still staring at him, frozen in your spot. But before he can say something, you hear another voice approaching.

“Hyung, when are you coming back inside?” A shorter male with a smaller build and blonde hair appears, his casual demeanor catching you off guard. Huh? A guy? “I’m just going to take a shower,” the guy continues, and this is when you notice he’s also shirtless. What?! “Sure, go ahead. I’ll head back inside after this smoke. Go on in,” your neighbor says nonchalantly, his gaze dropping briefly before returning to you.

No way… does he sleep with men too? Before you can unravel the tangled web of questions in your mind, your phone starts ringing. You check to see the caller ID is Taehyung.

"Hel–” “Hey! Y/N! Why aren’t you texting back?!” Taehyung interrupts, his voice loud and concerned. “Don’t tell me you went over to your neighbor’s place by yourself!” Fuck, not right now! “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about… Sh-Shut up…” You whisper aggressively, pleading to God that he gets the idea that you cannot be talking about this right now! “You’re the one that told me he’s a sleazy fuck boy that has sex with a different person every day!” Taehyung, oblivious to your situation, yells out. Did you mention you were on speaker? … oh.

Oh, fuck.

Without missing a beat and looking back, you hurriedly retreat inside your apartment. Despite not seeing his reaction, you could very well feel his eyes on you. Fuck…this is so embarrassing. Initially, it was just the sounds, and now this? This summer just got a whole lot more complicated. ╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚

After that day, you felt like you were in some kind of spy movie with the way you kept trying to avoid ever seeing the guy next door again. Every time you had to go outside, it was a mission of stealth and timing. Is he out there? Or is he not? You’ve tried to calculate and observe the times you’d hear him leave.

However, four days after the incident, as you walk out the door of your apartment, you find yourself face-to-face with him.

Shit.

There’s a long, awkward silence as you stare at each other before you finally break it.

“Uh, hello.”

No response. He slides a cigarette from the box and places it in his mouth, lighting it up and ignoring you as he looks out at the city, leaning against the railing. He’s on another smoke break, you say to yourself.

The way he can’t even casually say “hello” back to you just once? Be serious!

You groan, turn around, and decide to head to your old college library to get some more studying done before the LSAT in four days.

As you walk away, you catch a glimpse of him giving you a side glance before puffing out a cloud of smoke and sighing. ––––––––––––––––––––

On the day you got your LSAT results, the rain was so heavy that it felt like the raindrops could pierce through the walls of your rickety old apartment building.

The day when everything happened in a flash.

Coming home. Having to tell your mom you failed the LSAT. Having to tell her that you won’t be able to get into law school just yet. “Y/N, you graduated with honors from Seoul National University. There’s no need to be so disappointed just because you didn’t pass your law school exam.” She pleads, squeezing your hands. “You know I’m not asking for too much from you. All I want is for you to graduate from your university’s law school and become a prosecutor. That’s all I hope for, really.” This is pissing you off. She thinks that this is supposed to comfort you when it’s only adding to the pressure. “That’s all you hope for…?” you spat, words laced with bitterness, “You’re the one putting these burdens on me because you couldn’t be the one to do this.” “What…?”

Does she not get it? This was never your dream to begin with. All these years of studying, being the top student, going to the best university in the country, striving to get to law school… it wasn’t what you wanted to do at all. This was something your mom wanted for herself, but she couldn’t do because she got with your dad, gave it up and had you.

“You want me to live the life you would’ve had… for the rest of my life? I never asked for that!” You yell out, tears falling, frustration taking over.

You haphazardly put on your slide and leave out the front door with a slam, not giving your mother a moment to respond. However, she doesn’t chase after you. She stands there, stunned, only looking at the food and broken pieces of glass and plates that scatter your bedroom floor from the fight.

As if anything could make this worse, when you stand outside, you see your terrible and hot neighbor on a smoke break on the veranda. He turns when he hears your door automatically open and lock, then looks at you.

Dammit… He’s the last person you wanted to see you like this. You wipe your tears with your forearm, hoping that it’s not obvious that you’ve reached one of the lowest points in your whole life at the ripe age of 25. This is so fucking embarrassing.

“Hey, your face—” He begins, but you immediately scurry away down the stairs, out of the apartment complex. ╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ You run. And run. Running as far as your legs and your cheap worn-out slides could take you. As exhaustion overcomes you, you stop and glance around. Oh, you’re at a park down the street? You take a deep breath for the first time realizing you don’t know what you’re even trying to achieve. Ha…this is so stupid. You sigh, taking cover under a slide in the playground, shivering as you hug your knees. After the adrenaline rush goes away, your body is now noticing that you’re cold. It’s no wonder since you’re drenched in the rain. You realize your eyes are probably puffy too from the outburst earlier. Things are starting to come back to you.

As you sit there continuing to watch the rain pitter patter against the playground and the sand, you hear footsteps approaching you. When you look up, you see that it’s him. Your sex fiend hot ass neighbor, holding an umbrella.

Your tear ducts start flowing tears once again. “Y-You startled me…” You sniffle, rubbing your eyes with the palm of your hand. “What’re you just standing there for? If you came here to mock me, then go ahead and laugh all you want.” He looks down, seeing your clothes completely soaked. He notices that your white t-shirt has become transparent, letting him see your nipples perking out. Goddamit, he thinks, looking away. “Here.” He places the umbrella next to you, now covering you from the downpour and walks away. “Ah..” Your hand reaches out to his figure as he slowly moves further from you. Something about him calls out to you. You don’t know what, and you can’t explain it. Maybe you should follow him back home for now.

And you do.

You make it back to the apartment and up the stairs to the floor where the both of you live. As he unlocks his door and enters, you call out to him before the door can close. “Hey, wait…” Maybe you should go in and just give back his umbrella. Nah, you shouldn’t go into a stranger’s house. “Close the door if you’re not going to come in.” He calls to you from the inside.

And so, the door clunks shut, and now you’re inside. This is incredibly awkward. “To be honest, I didn’t think you were coming in,” he says, his voice low and slightly hoarse as he wipes his wet hair with a small towel. Droplets of rainwater cling to his skin, accentuating the contours of his jawline and the muscles in his arms. “Guess you changed your mind.”

“Well... I still had your umbrella, and... I can’t exactly go home right now,” you say carefully, fidgeting with your hands before crossing your arms under your breasts. His eyes flicker down for a moment, lingering on your figure before meeting yours again. “Could you lend me a towel, please?” you ask, shivering involuntarily as a chill runs down your spine.

He looks away, his expression unreadable, before sighing and handing you the towel he was just using. The fabric is warm from his body heat, and a faint scent of his cologne lingers on it. “Just use this to wipe yourself off.” Uh, why would he give me the one he was just using? And what’s with the sigh? “I don’t care if the floor gets wet, so you can go sit in the living room,” he suggests before walking into the bathroom, his figure disappearing behind the door. The sound of running water fills the air, mingling with the steady rhythm of the rain outside.

“Alrighty then…”

For the first time since entering his home, you take a moment to observe your surroundings. It’s a pretty ordinary looking small apartment...

No, it’s not. His kitchen table is riddled with bottles of soju and books lying around, their pages curled and yellowed with age. There’s laundry that has gotten stiff on the drying rack from who knows how long it has been there, giving the room a slightly musty smell.

You shouldn’t be so judgmental. It’s not like you live here anyway.

A better observation you note are the several paintings hanging up on the wall. Some look like contemporary Korean art pieces that you recognize from reading art books you enjoy during your free time. One is Sung Yeon-Woong’s “Korean People - I Love You,” 2022. The monochrome colors and bold strokes of the people embracing each other in the nude captivate your attention, momentarily drawing you in.

You’ve always liked art and wanted to pursue it, but those dreams were locked away when…

The illusion of being at an art museum fades, and you’re suddenly reminded of where you are when you feel your wet underwear sticking to you. It feels gross and icky, the fabric clinging uncomfortably to your skin.

You plop onto his living room floor, which you realize is also a makeshift gym area when you spot dumbbells of various weights beside you. The metal gleams dully under the soft glow of the overhead lights, a testament to their frequent use. Your hand moves against something and you notice a card on the floor. When you grab it, you realize what it is. His student ID card from Seoul National University?! He went to the College of Engineering? Or does he still go?

Woah? You’re from different departments, but it’s the same school. What the fuck… You had absolutely no idea. This is also the first moment you find out what his name is: Kim Namjoon.Bachelor’s DegreeCollege of EngineeringChemical Engineering Chemical engineering? He doesn’t look like one. Also why would he just leave his student ID lying around like this?

“Go and take a shower. I can’t have you catching a cold in my house,” Namjoon requests, coming out of the bathroom, his hair still damp from the shower. You slide his ID card back on the floor pretending you didn’t see anything. “Here, change into these clothes after.” “Oh, okay–” Your words are cut short when he throws a gray t-shirt and shorts on top of your head.

You can’t tell if he’s being nice or a complete jerk. When you walk into the bathroom and close the door, you finally notice in the mirror that you’re not wearing a bra.

“AHHHHHHH!” You scream internally over your stupidity and lack of rationality. How could you be this careless? How could you forget that you weren’t wearing a bra! Hold up, did Namjoon notice and not say a thing?! Oh god… This guy isn’t nice or a jerk. He’s a straight up sex machine. A fucking sex fiend pervert.

You can’t believe you just willingly stepped into a minefield. But wait! You can get out of here without any trouble so long as you keep your head straight.

Or not… you don’t have anywhere else to go. You don’t want to burden Tae with your shit. Sigh. Just be cautious Y/N and avoid eye contact as much as possible. You’ll get through this! After your shower and change of clothes, you walk out of the bathroom and see him on his futon bed sipping his beer and watching a variety show on his laptop. You plop down next to him, trying to pretend all is normal, but it’s not. Shit, this is still awkward. How can you become less aware of the situation you’re in? You notice an unopened beer can on his table and crawl over to grab it. Oh! This can work. He’s not going to mind, right? When you do that, Namjoon notices your exposed crotch in the loose shorts he gave you and begins choking on his beer. He can’t believe you didn’t put on your wet underwear again and are just walking around bare like that. Huh? What’s up with him... you think, confused, but not surprised. You crack it open and take a few sips.

You know what, everything will be fine if you keep a clear head. Clear thoughts. Clear mind.

Yeah, you can do that.

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚

She hasn't even finished her beer and already looks out of it, Namjoon thinks to himself, sighing. He reaches over and takes the beer can from your hand. “Hey, you’ve had enough to drink,” he says firmly. “I’ll get you some blankets, so just lie—”

“Honestly... It’s partially your fault...” you interrupt, your voice slurring slightly as you crawl over to him, suddenly pushing him onto the bed. Your movements are unsteady, but you manage to straddle him, arms planted on either side of his head. “...that I flunked my exam.” Namjoon is caught off guard by your sudden action, his eyes wide with surprise. He stares up at you, at a loss for words. “What the hell are you talking about? What did I do?” Namjoon asks, his confusion evident. “What are you on about? Why are you suddenly acting crazy.” “Get off m—”

“Is it fun... to live the way you do?” you interrupt, your tone dripping with a mix of sass and bitterness.

“What?” “If it’s that exciting... then can you show me how to live like you?” Your hands move to his chest, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath his shirt.

“What exactly are you saying?” Namjoon grabs your right arm, but you swat it away.

“Well, you seem so carefree, and all you ever do is sleep with different people every day.” You scoff, your frustration bubbling over. Namjoon chuckles, a humorless sound, as he grabs your wrists and effortlessly flips you over, pinning you beneath him. Now, you’re the one looking up at him from the bed, stunned and embarrassed, and suddenly sobered up.

“I don’t know what’s going through that head of yours, but what makes you think you can say that when you don’t know anything about me?” His words are laced with annoyance. “And just to be clear, I have no reason to sit here and listen to you judge me, no matter what I do. If you’re so unhappy with your life, then do whatever you want. No one’s forcing you to live that way.”

You tremble slightly, anger and humiliation mixing as you look away. “You don’t know anything!”

You smack his chest with your fists, but he doesn’t flinch. “Figures you wouldn’t understand since you do whatever the hell you want all the time!”

Namjoon sighs, clearly reaching the end of his patience. “Does this seem like the home of someone who’s content and living life on their own terms, to you?” He gestures around the room, his hands clenching the sheets beneath you. You have nothing else to combat his question with, so you pout and look away. Namjoon’s not going to let you get what you want though, and grabs your jaw to turn you to face him again. “Fine. If you really want to know, then I’ll show you.”

Keeping you pinned, Namjoon leans in, his lips inches from yours.

Your heart races, and you freeze in place. You’ve never kissed anyone before in your life. But before you can feel his mouth against yours, he notices you flinch and decides to pull back, creating distance between you once again.

“You know what? You should just leave.” He chuckles, feeling the ridiculousness of the situation he’s found himself in. “Haha.. What was I thinking? There’s no way I’m doing anything like that with someone like you.”

Before he has the chance to get off from straddling you, your hands grab at his shirt and push him forward.

“W-Why am I the one who has to live like this?” You start to hiccup, tears streaming down your face once again. Why are you being like this? How many times have you cried today?

“What’re you talking about? Let go.”

This only makes you pull him even closer. “And you!! Why did you stop?! Why? Man, woman, old, young! I know you’ll sleep with anyone... so why not me?”

“The hell are you talking about?! I told you to let go!” He grabs at your wrists, trying to remove their grasp on his shirt gently. “You just… you just feel sorry for me… I know I may not be good enough. I might be a lousy daughter, not as conventionally attractive as other girls, and I’m painfully aware of my shortcomings just as a member of society… but still!”

“You’re driving me nuts here…”

“Fuck… it’s not like I want to live this way.” You cover your eyes with your forearm, sobbing.

“You’re fine as you are,” Namjoon says softly, the gentlest thing he’s said all day.

“What did you say?”

“I mean you’re good enough. In fact, you’re plenty good enough, okay? So stop crying and let go of my shirt, please.” He says, gently grabbing hold of your chin.

“Then... do you want to have sex with me as well?” Your face reddens, asking boldly.

Namjoon internally fights with himself, thinking about what he’s even supposed to do with you.

“Yeah, I do. Just not today,” he answers.

You turn your head to the side. “Liar. You don’t want to have sex with me.”

“I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret,” he tells you honestly, looking into your eyes.

You glare at him, and for the hundredth time today, he sighs.

“Okay, fine, fine. Let’s do it,” he declares.

“Wait..Really...?”

He looks at you, seeing your innocent expression. “You better not come crying to me afterward.”

Namjoon takes his shirt off, revealing his whole upper body in full view. His skin glistens slightly in the dim light, each muscle defined and firm.

“I’m saying this because it seems like you’re completely misunderstanding the situation, but I’ve already told you ‘no’ like a hundred times.”

You look at him, dazed, mesmerized by his pecs and defined abdominal muscles. As he nears closer to you, you think he’s actually going to kiss you this time, until he moves down, licking your collarbones. His hand squeezes your breasts

And I held back at least ten times, he thinks inwardly.

His right hand lifts the t-shirt, your breast coming into full view, jiggling from the action.

You’re the one that kept provoking me, so this is partly on you.

“Mmph..ah..” You moan out, and quickly cover your mouth.

“What’re you doing?” “Well, they can hear me moan next door…” You say, muffled. Namjoon looks at you as if you’re insane, “Your voice won’t carry through these walls that easily unless you let out a scream.” “Oh..” “Be honest. You were eavesdropping by pressing your ear to the wall, weren’t you?” He begins questioning.

Fuck.

He continues, “Unless there’s another pervert like you living in this building, then you don’t have to worry. No one will hear a thing.”

Oh. This changes everything, actually.

Namjoon suddenly turns you over, removing your shorts and pulling your ass up. “Y-You didn’t have to do that so suddenly! Or you could’ve at least turned the lights off..”

Namjoon stares blankly at your naked figure, then slowly rustles his hands in his shorts to put on an unopened condom he had lying.

“W-What are you doing?”

Is this what you think it is? I’ve only seen them in comics…

What… holy shit..

“W-Wait!” You move away towards the wall.

“What now?” Namjoon groans, but then you leaned back up and start observing the large cock that he just pulled out from his shorts.

Are they normally this big? But then again, you remember reading and watching hentai where the bottom characters struggle to take in a large penis… “Do you want to suck me off?” He looks down at you, overshadowing you as you appear small and curious.

Do I? Should I?

Your tongue peeps out and gives it one lick. Oh. Oh no. Oh god, that tasted gross. You start to cough and gag.

“Don’t you think it’s a little rude to gag like that when you’re giving someone a blowjob?”

“Then how do you expect me to react? The rubber tastes super weird! Have you tried liking one of these? Of course you haven’t!”

“It’s a condom, it’s supposed to taste like that. What, did you think it was going to taste like vanilla?”

“So you DO know what it tastes like…”

“Why would I? You know what? Forget it, what would I expect from you?” He leans forward and pushes you down on the bed again. He lifts your legs up in the air and settles in between them.

“W-What’re you doing?!”

“What do you think? You keep getting distracted. I’m helping you concentrate” He spreads you open on his tongue and licking every sensitive dip and corner he can reach. His tongue is warm and firm no matter where he licks, and only softens up when he goes to lick a flat stripe up your slit, essentially sucking up all of the wet you’re offering him and savoring it through whimpered groans at the way your legs attempt to squeeze around his head.

“Ah.. no! Wait! This is way too embarrassing..”

He pays no attention and continues at his task.

He knew you’d taste good but this is on a whole other level. He can’t help it when he grips your thighs and spreads your legs out further, and he certainly can’t help himself when he prods his tongue into you, trying to taste more of what you have to offer.

“Ah!” You can feel his tongue dipping in, and the way he grips your thighs renders you nearly useless if you were to try and wiggle away, not that you’d ever want to but it almost tickles with how good it feels. Your legs begin to shake in his grasp, and he only spreads them further at that, tilting his head at an angle to suck and lick into you even deeper.

“I kinda figured you weren’t all that into this because you kept going on about stuff like how the condom tastes and feeling embarrassed. But you’re getting so wet I guess you are a little turned on…”

“That’s enough,” You sigh out, reaching down frantically to hold his head in place so that you can grind your hips forward against his stiffened tongue.

“Yeah. Since, both you and me… are getting impatient…” Namjoon’s fingers are instantly at your entrance, sliding in so easily that it nearly makes you forget that you even told him to do it. His fingers are slender, and each joint on the digits are felt against your aching and gripping walls. The sounds of squelching only turn you on even more. “We might as well cut to the chase.”

He takes out his fingers, now moving them to hold his length. “This, might hurt a little.”

You look at him puzzled before you gasp, feeling a sudden pressure from beneath you. “Huh!? W-Wait, it won’t go in! I said it won’t go in!” Your handle trembles, grabbing onto the bedsheets harshly.

“It already is.”

No way.

“Ah… wait, really? It’s all the way in…?”

It has to be all the way in. It’s feeling really tight right now and you can’t imagine how the whole thing can’t be inside. You glance down at your cunt, seeing the point where you and him connect. Oh.

“No. Not all the way in.” He scratches his head. “You can tell me anything if you’re feeling too tired or just wanna call it quits. And I’ll stop.”

Arrogant little…

“I have no idea what you’re talking about! I’m totally fine! I can’t even feel you inside me…”

There, the two of you look at each other for a brief moment before you feel him suddenly start to thrust forward again, sliding his cock further into your drenched core. You let out a whimper.

Then, giving you no time to adjust to his whole size, he takes his cock out and quickly pulls you up and spreads you into doggy style, pinning your hands behind him. Without warning, he roughly thrusts into you, feeling yourself being split apart by his huge, thick cock.

“Ah! Ungh…F-Fuck!” You moan, tears beginning to prick from overstimulation. His hips thrust brutally against your own at a set rhythmic pace, pulling almost all the way out before ruthlessly drilling back into you, it would probably be more painful if it wasn’t for your dripping arousal creating your very own lube and his fat cock hitting the right spot with every thrust.

“I thought. You said. You were. Fine?” He thrusts repeatedly, with each word being punctuated by a thrust.

He comes to a slow stop and you don’t respond, your lips agape as you remain stuck in a euphoric daze from how good this pleasure feels. You’ve never done this before. You’ve only read it in literature, watch it from hentai… but holy shit, does the real thing not compare.

“You’re making so much noise, I bet the whole neighborhood knows we’re going at it.” Namjoon whispers in your ear with a teasing tone.

Fuck!? You immediately cover your mouth and turn to face him, which makes Namjoon chuckle at your cute behavior, grabbing your hand. “No one’s actually gonna hear us with the rain pounding like this”, he thinks internally.

Namjoon takes this opportunity to switch positions and place you on top of him. You sit there with your legs on either side. Glancing down, you notice that his cock is still hard and it rubs against your clit, making you more and more impatient for him to keep on fucking you.

He moves you forward a bit and raises your hips so he can line your entrance with his tip. For Namjoon, he needed to see you come undone. He deserved it after all the nonsense you kept scolding him about. And there’s nothing more satisfying than the moan you let out when the tip is in. His cock stretches you out once again, filling you in all the right areas, making you pant and whine from the girth. He grunts as you sink further down his cock. His hands grip your ass, pushing his cock in deeper and deeper before pulling back up, all in a rhythmic motion. The sheer tightness of his grip on your ass was sure to leave bruises tomorrow, but he was the last person to care.

You gasp when he lifts you up, almost pulling out with only his tip still inside, before bringing you down and slamming back into your cunt. A loud moan exits your lips and you throw your head back from the static of pleasure that shoots through your body. You grip his biceps in an attempt to ground yourself, your manicured nails dug into his skin and leave long scratches.

“Ah!!” You scream as the squelching and thumps get louder, making your pussy tighten around him even more. “Ungh, ah! W-Wait! I feel strange–!”

What is this feeling?! Is it what you think it is... It’s only with one more thrust hitting your cervix that leads you to your answer.

“F-Fuck…daddy!” As if on cue, the knot that had been building in your stomach pops, and your orgasm came crashing down on you. Your cunt clenches around his cock and your mouth flies open in a silent scream, thick and clear cum gushing on his cock.

Namjoon is surprsied by you using the word ‘daddy’, but continues at his ministrations, licking against your chest now and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth as you shake amid your orgasm. You continue your strong hold on his shoulders.

“Agh… I want you to stop squeezing so tightly.” He slowly holds you up and removes his dick from inside you. He removes his condom and discards it in the nearby bin.

“Huh? What did you say…? You want me to what?” You’re completely out of it, your mind fogged by the sex, and perhaps some remnants of alcohol. “Kiss you?”

“Huh? No, that’s not what I—” Namjoon starts to protest, but before he can finish, you gently grab his chin and press your lips against his.

The kiss catches him off guard. Your lips are soft and hesitant, trembling slightly. Namjoon’s initial shock gives way to a moment of stillness, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. For a brief second, he almost kisses you back, but then he pulls away, his hands firmly but gently pushing you back.

“Holy shit, that was my first kiss…” you murmur, panic setting in. “I can’t believe it’s with some older guy like you!”

Namjoon sighs, exhaling sharply. “You’re not even trying to hide it, huh?” He gently grabs your cheeks, squishing them with his hand. “I figured as much, so I was trying to be considerate. And then you went and kissed me first.”

“If that’s what you were thinking, then you should’ve just told—”

“Too late for that,” he interrupts, taking his turn to kiss you. This time, he doesn’t hold back, shoving his tongue inside your mouth. The kiss is intense and demanding, catching you completely off guard.

Your mind blanks out, every thought drowned by the sensation of his lips and tongue moving against yours. His hands move to the back of your head, tangling in your hair, pulling you closer. You can’t help but moan softly into the kiss, the sound swallowed by his mouth.

Namjoon’s kiss is forceful, almost punishing, as if he’s trying to prove a point. You can feel the frustration and desire in every movement, in the way his hands grip your hair, in the way his tongue explores your mouth with a fervent urgency. You try to keep up, but your inexperience makes it hard, and you end up just following his lead, letting him control the kiss.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing heavily. His eyes are dark, filled with a mix of emotions you can’t quite decipher. “There,” he says, his voice rough. “Now you know. Your first kiss isn’t something to take lightly. Understand?”

You nod, still trying to catch your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. The room feels like it’s spinning, and you’re starting to feel more sleepy as the seconds pass.

Namjoon sighs again, softer this time, and releases your cheeks, his fingers trailing down to your neck. “Just… think things through before you act next time, alright?”

You nod again, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and exhilaration. This wasn’t how you imagined your first kiss, but something about it feels right, even if you can’t fully understand why.

He leans back, giving you some space, and you both sit in silence for a moment, the weight of what just happened hanging in the air.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice gentler now, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.

“Yeah,” you whisper, still trying to process everything. “I think so.”

“Good,” he says, leaning back against the headboard. “We can talk more in the morning. For now, just get some rest.”

You nod, feeling a strange sense of relief wash over you. Despite everything, you feel safe with him, and that’s enough for now. As you lie down beside him, the exhaustion of the day finally catches up with you, and you drift off to sleep, the taste of his kiss still lingering on your lips.

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ “I… uh, I’ll wash these clothes and return them to you later,” you say to Namjoon as he walks you to his door. The hallway outside his apartment is dimly lit, casting long shadows that dance across the walls.

“...Don’t. You can keep them or, better yet, throw them away.” His voice is calm, yet firm, as if he’s making a point.

“Um, okay. If you say so. Then I guess I’ll do whatever I want with them. Thanks for letting me stay over. And I’m sorry for saying and assuming things about you.” You glance up at him, feeling the weight of your earlier accusations hang between you.

“The assumptions you made about me being a sex fiend when it was just me inviting my friends over for a gym workout?” He arches an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“What?!” Your eyes widen in shock. Holy shit… were those groans actually grunts from them heavy-lifting those dumbbells and workout gear in the living room? It can’t be. It had to have been something else, right? “Are you being serious?!”

Namjoon chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that makes your cheeks burn. “I’ll see you around, girl next door.” You groan at him shooing you away.

“It’s Y/N...”

“Alright, Y/N,” he says, his eyes meeting yours with a knowing glint.

You realize he still hasn’t told you his name, but you already know it. You nod awkwardly and step back, your mind still reeling from his revelation. As you turn to leave, you hear the door click shut behind you. The rain has stopped, and the cool morning air feels refreshing against your flushed skin. You stand there for a moment, processing everything that’s happened. How the fuck can you go back to your regular life after that? Even Namjoon must think it’s insane that he just got tangled up with his younger neighbor.

You’ve both completely gone nuts.

a/n: ahhhhh the fic made it out of my brain! wow. i had read this webtoon last week right before rpwp came out and i thought how the male character was lowkey namjoon coded. and then when i heard nuts... oh you know i just had to cook this up! though i would like to add that the webtoon i based this off of goes in a completely different direction with different several plot elements added, and it's still ongoing, so this was just inspo from the first 4 chapters. thank you all for the support and for reading!

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist for future works! ➸ check out one of my current ongoing fic series "love u lately"

#bts #bts fic #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon fic #smut #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts smut #fanfic #fanfiction #kpop

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anarchy-and-piglins · 2 days

Note

Woe, Bedrock Bros reincarnation AU be upon you! (And make it dark)

The Bedrock Kingdom's a weird one. Weird, in the fact that it never has to deal with a dispute over who sits on the throne. Weird because it never has to deal with the consequences of a weak-willed or greedy or bad leader.

Because, there is only one of two people on the throne: King Technoblade or King Theseus.

It’s a cycle. When King Technoblade ascends to the throne after the death of King Theseus, somewhere in Bedrock, King Theseus is born again. And a search is immediate to find the newborn prince. When he is found, he is brought to the palace and raised with love and affection until it is his turn to Ascend the throne after the death of King Technoblade. And then King Theseus starts the search for his heir/his friend/his brother/his father/his son.

Round and round the cycle goes. No one knows who was originally the older and who was originally the younger. Not even the Kings themselves. It took a few generations before they started writing things down that they wanted their Future incarnations to know.

Because the Kings don't remember their past lives.

The cycle begins anew when a Young Prince Theseus ascends to the throne. King Technoblade lived a long time this cycle, and King Theseus's prior incarnation had lived the longest of any recorded out of spite because someone said he couldn't.

So, the new King Theseus is young. An adult, but barely in his 20s. He's impulsive and a bit impatient and DESPERATE to get Techno back.

He reads through some of his predecessors’ notes and sees how it can sometimes take YEARS to find Techno and he is enraged by that concept. He is going to find Techno NOW. He will NOT be waiting years.

The search is begun and King Theseus spurs his subjects on to hurry or else and finally there is an infant put into King Theseus's arms and King Theseus beams with joy at finally having Technoblade back, ready to adore him and shower him with all of the love that King Theseus remembered getting growing up.

The baby is not Technoblade.

Techno grows up in some obscure village in the middle of nowhere. His parents have too many mouths to feed and when Techno is 12, he is kicked out to try and make a living on his own. Cruel, but also common in his poor town. Techno does what many from his home do in his situation.

He lies about his age and joins the army.

You can join the Bedrock Army at the age of sixteen. For two years, you are in training. Basically an apprenticeship. At 18, you are a full-fledged soldier. If you are REALLY good, you can even become a Knight.

Techno DEFINITELY doesn't look 16. He looks MAYBE a little older than 12, but that's just because of his height.

However, like I said, its COMMON for desperate kids to be kicked out. The Military is used to it.

They just check it off as all good and let Technoblade in.

And Technoblade is very very good at being a soldier. He picks up a sword and learns at record speed. Like he had done it a million times and just had to be reminded of the controls. His superiors LOVE him. His peers’ jealousy is erased because Techno is just so likable. He can be so quiet one moment and then the next say the funniest thing that has his whole platoon tearing up from laughter. He is well liked.

News from the capital shakes the entire foundation of the country when Techno is thirteen and soon to become an official soldier.

Prince Technoblade was a fake. The nobility tried to insert a false Technoblade in order to steal the crown from The Bedrock Bros. It was only found out because the young “prince” had begun to act off. When King Theseus had looked into it, he found the conspiracy.

No one dared ask what happened to the false prince, but the hangman’s noose was frayed from how many men and women were forced to their deaths.

A Search was called.

Techno's unit was tense. They were aware that many of the kids they let in would be in that age range, though they couldn't be sure how many because they HID their ages. They start taking a quiet audit of their child soldiers while also working as efficiently as possible to gather all of the 13 to 14 year old in their assigned section of the country.

When they start interrogating Techno about his age, he lies.

He says he's one year younger than he really is. His superiors slump in relief, grateful that they don't have to risk giving up their best soldier, the kid who will DEFINITELY become a knight and the pride of their home.

Techno is just grateful they bought it. He very much does NOT want to even be CONSIDERED to be a Prince. Sure, his parents may have named him after the Previous King, but that was COMMON. There were so many Technoblades and Theseus's running around the kingdom. It didn't mean anything.

However, the fact that the Military had to hastily “fire” a ton of soldiers means that they don't have enough to escort the kids to the capital AND protect their stations. So they have to be very efficient on where they place their manpower.

Techno is sent to herd the kids to the capital. He is…very not liking that. He will just stay in the back. Its fine. No one will know he's younger. He is tall enough that as long as they don’t make him take off his helmet, everything will be juuuuuussstttt fine.

They make him take off his helmet.

When they enter the palace, they are not allowed to cover their heads. Technoblade grimaces and bears with it and walks behind the other soldiers, herding the nervous teenagers into the palace. It takes forever. Each child is being examined by the King Himself, before being dismissed and given three gold coins for all the trouble. A pittance to nobility but a treasure to the working class. They go forward in a single file line, some shrinking under the cold blue eyes. Others marveling at the gleaming crown atop a mop of golden curls.

Some of the kids are waved through quickly. Others, the King pauses on before shaking his head. Even fewer get pulled aside and led further into the castle.

Technoblade's entire gaggle of teens is almost through when King Theseus orders them to stop. Techno glances up at King Theseus and sees the man staring at him with narrowed eyes.

King Theseus demands to know Techno's age and he says 16. The King stares at him. The whole room stares at him, really. King Theseus had talked to VERY few in this process.

The King smiles and its sharp and he begins to talk. It seems like pleasant conversation, at first, the King even cracking a silly joke or two. Acting younger than he looked. He then compares the situation to something that happened when Techno would have been young. Techno nods along like “Oh yes, of course I remember that”

King Theseus just smirks and says that there is no way he would remember, because he would have to be older than 16 to know it. Which means he's lying. How much is he lying? Technoblade kind of balks at that, not sure what to say. King Theseus asks again about Techno's age. Royal Knights, not just the soldiers he came with, start to close in on him. Techno can't help but reflexively put his hand on his sword as they approach. Before removing his hand when he sees the number of knights. He cringes before turning to King Theseus and telling him he turned fourteen three days prior.

King Theseus just grins and orders Techno to be taken with the others. Techno is embarrassed as he's led back through the palace.

He is stuck with a group of boys that all…look really similar to him. There are around six of them.

The Royal Knights demand that Techno take off his armor which Techno adamantly refuses to do. He is not going without armor in this place. It could be dangerous. They tell them that it is for the protection of the royal family that he cannot be so guarded. Techno snarks something at them about that, and the knight takes it personally.

Techno is now jumped by around eight royal knights determined to strip him out of his armor like an angry hermit crab. Techno fights and struggles and definitely breaks noses and fingers before the knights get a good hold and finally start peeling his armor off of him.

Cackling draws Techno's eye, even as he is pinned down and a swearing guard is pulling at the buckles keeping his armor on.

King Theseus arrives with a bright smile and too bright eyes. All of the teens in the room bow.

Except Techno, still pinned to the floor and trying to kick the guard attempting to take off his shinguards in the crotch.

King Theseus is certain that the teen struggling on the floor with a scowl is Technoblade. He is CERTAIN.

But he was certain before, as well.

His haste had cost him fourteen years with Technoblade. Time spent on a traitorous brat instead of the one who should have been by his side. He won't let his haste ruin things again.

He'll go by the book. As boring as that could be. It wasn't the first time there was a case of mistaken identity for one of the Royals. His predecessors had worked out contingencies for just that occasion.

King Theseus would have HIS Technoblade back.

Techno is given a nice room. Far nicer than the barracks he had lived in. But the way the nicely dressed boy was moaning, you would think they were locked in a jail. So what if they had to share a space? It wasn't THAT bad. Techno just claimed the bed that let him keep an eye on the door and mourned the fact that he was armorless. It SUCKED.

They are then all tested.

There are a bunch of tests, some that he isn't even sure if they ARE tests. The king is at every one. They are things like picking out clothes to wear, or organizing jewels to your preference. Technoblade finds it very boring and, honestly, he tries to fail. He picks out a boring outfit that is COMFY instead of finery. He organizes the jewels by taste, which is bullshit, they all taste like rocks, but he is annoyed that his intentional stupidity doesn't get him kicked out.

He enjoys the wolf dogs. That's pretty cool. Getting to go out and pet the very intimidating growly dogs was neat.

The kid that kicked one dog was IMMEDIATELY escorted out and away. It didn’t matter that the dog bit him hard enough to bleed.

Techno nearly gets out of having to take a different test because he was hidden under dozens of little wolf-dog puppy bodies. He will remember that hiding spot for future use.

There are a ton of tests. The ones trying to stay seem to try and recreate the reputation of the Blood God. King Theseus is known to be the kinder of the kings while King Technoblade has always been quick to anger and ruthless.

(This is bullshit. King Technoblade was the type to quickly mete out justice, but never hold a grudge. King Theseus is VENGEFUL. He burns down whole noble houses when he's mad. Sometimes literally. But most people don't realize that because he is so personable and extroverted.)

Techno doesn't understand why his chill personality doesn't get him kicked immediately when all of these other teenagers are doing their best to imitate rabid dogs.

Technoblade only once nearly gets eliminated.

King Theseus gave them free reign over the library and, out of all of the candidates, Techno was the only one uninterested. Didn't go inside even once. Completely ignored it.

King Theseus himself interrogates Techno on this. Because of nature vs nurture, some things are BOUND to change from lifetime to lifetime. But King Technoblade not being a total nerd about books?

Impossible. Never happened.

King Theseus is a little sad when he confronts Techno, ready to dismiss the kid with a heavy heart. It felt a bit wrong. But he would do what needed to be done. He wanted HIS Technoblade, not another fake.

The reason comes quickly.

Techno can't read.

King Theseus almost sighs in relief at that. He assigns Techno a teacher to learn. Techno is skeptical and takes this as a sign that he should lean into the books=bad mindset so he can go home.

Unfortunately, he finds that he very very VERY much likes books. He is found multiple times at dawn, bent over a book with his hair a mess and dark circles under his eyes. He ends up falling asleep during the other tests, much to King Theseus's annoyance and amusement. They end up having to lock the door to the library at night so Technoblade won't sneak out and hide in there.

It keeps going until there are only two left. Techno and the son of a very powerless noble. King Theseus asks them both a question during dinner, telling them to think about their answer for the night and tell him in the morning.

King Theseus asks them what should be done with an anarchist who wished to overthrow the monarchy.

Techno snorts at that while the other scowls at Techno. King Theseus ask Techno about his reaction.

Techno is VERY DONE with all of the tests and wants to leave. He wants to go back. And, even though it is probably a VERY stupid thing to say to a king, he tells King Theseus that at this point he would give the Anarchist a high-five and then go take a nap. Literally everyone in the room stares at Techno with varieties of horror and rage.

Except King Theseus who is cackling loudly. He dismisses both of them back to their room for the night.

The guards are kinda glaring at Techno for his comment, which Techno is glad for. Aha. He can finally leave! He's in the clear.

As soon as the door closes to the dormitory, the other boy stabs Techno in the back.

The noble boy’s family was told by more powerful families that if they could make King Theseus take their son, then they would bail them out of debt. But, if he wasn't chosen, then they should kill whichever boy was Actually Technoblade. Maybe, if they killed him before he could ascend, then the cycle would break and they could take control.

Which, in practice, WOULD break the cycle.

But Techno was a VERY good soldier.

Even with a knife sticking out of his back, he is able to overpower the other teen. The teen screams bloody murder, yelling for help. Guards flood the room and yank Techno off of the struggling teen. It hurts because thet pin Techno's arms behind his back, even with the knife still in place. The guards help the swearing noble off the floor, many glaring at Techno. Techno scowls back.

King Theseus comes in, scowling just as much and demands to know what happened. The noble kid smirks slightly, before he says he was just giving his answer to the question. What should be done with an anarchist who wished to destroy the royal family? Obviously, they should die.

King Theseus turns to Technoblade, still gripped by the guards and asks him if he has anything to say for himself. Techno glares. At the King. At the Noble. At the guards.

Techno responds that if a King has to stab someone in the back, he was too Weak to rule the country anyways. Might as well let it crumble. Noble kid just scoffs.

King Theseus nods for a moment before he grins, something sharp and cunning in his eye. He walks closer to Techno and Techno refuses to cower in front of the King, meeting his eye as if to dare him to do something.

Carefully, King Theseus wraps his arms around Technoblade and hugs him tight. The knife shifts and Technoblade can't help but gasp.

“Welcome home, Technoblade,” King Theseus would say, before ordering the guards to grab the noble and chop off his hand. He had stabbed the prince.

The kid begs for mercy as Technoblade is led out of the room, quickly down the hall with King Theseus's arm carefully over his shoulder. He is pushed into the Physician's office, who is very surprised to see a knife sticking out of a teen's back. Technoblade is made to lay down. He is given an anesthetic.

He tries to argue with King Theseus about him being the Prince, which is hard with the drugs. King Theseus is just giggling while playing with his hair. Techno makes noises of discontent whenever he is so far gone that he can't make words.

The King assures Techno that even if he finds the King annoying at first, he will learn to love him.

And then Techno spends way too much time trying to run, only for Tommy to find him wherever he hides. The King is Stream-sniping or something. I just have to get back to work so I can't keep fleshing it out. But yeah. King Theseus is going to be VERY possessive of Technoblade.

Anyways, sometimes you gotta make Tommy older. As a treat.

I'm so fucking obsessed with this one, Lenn, you don't understand, it's just dsqhqsdqdskjdssdqHsqkjsqqshqjskhqsksq. I kept needing to stop while reading it to flap my hands with happy stims.

The potential? Techno being so, so hostile and every little act of resistance he shows just makes Tommy coo over him like "aw, that's so Techno of you <3"

Tommy is going to be real obsessed with making up for lost time. Techno has suffered so much without him. He'll need to ascertain Techno has the best, most spoiled life from now on. Whether he wants to or not.

#technoblade #tommyinnit #thoughts #dark sbi #asks #I need a lenn tag for these AU #Lenn takes the mic #there that's a good tag #I'll go back to tag the other ones soon o7

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a-court-of-fics-and-errors · 1 day

Text

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 13

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 1.8k

Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

When the sun rose and light peeked through the gaps in the curtains, you allowed yourself to rise from bed, savoring the feel of the blankets beneath your fingers as you took deep, steadying breaths. Finally, you pulled yourself up and opened the armoire to find clothes Feyre had given you throughout your stay. At the bottom of the closet, you discovered a rucksack filled with clothing for all climates, fresh skeins of water, and various dried fruits and ready-to-make meals. You dug through the bag, wondering who could have left it for you. Nesta, perhaps? You shook your head, smiling lightly as you dressed, pulling out a cable-knit sweater and layering it over a turtleneck. You opted for green cargo pants and a knit blue wool jacket, then pulled on a pair of hiking boots. You tied your hair into a braid, securing the end with the ribbon Anthea had given you, allowing your fingers to linger over the frayed ends as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You slung the rucksack over your shoulder and walked into the hallway, knowing you would need to find someone to bring you to the ground or face the many stairs that would have you walking until nightfall. As you made your way down the hall, you heard indistinct chatter behind a closed door in the common room.

“You’re sure?” a deep male voice asked.

“Absolutely,” Rhysand responded.

“How is that possible?” the deep voice asked.

“When my father was High Lord, diplomatic affairs were very different. There weren’t strict border enforcements, and he and my father were quite close.”

A scoff from the deeper-voiced male.

“So you think it’s possible that he’s her father?” Azriel’s voice interjected.

You paused. They were talking about you.

“I would recognize that voice anywhere,” Rhysand responded.

“She was a child. Who knows what she accurately remembers,” the deep voice replied.

“Where else would she know his voice?” Rhysand countered.

There was a pause as you pressed your ear closer to the door.

“So what do we do?” Azriel asked finally. “Do we tell her?”

“What good would that do?” the deeper voice asked.

“For her safety, we can’t tell her anything,” Rhysand responded.

“So we just sit with this information?” Azriel asked, irritation lacing his voice.

Rhysand shot back, “What would you prefer, Azriel? That we tell her and risk not knowing what will happen afterward?”

“What do you think she would do?” Azriel asked.

“I don’t know,” Rhysand replied.

Azriel’s voice grew louder, “She has no other family. Is it not wrong of us to keep this from her? What if she wants to go to him?”

The deep voice responded, “You want her to go live with them? That messed up family?”

“I don’t think that’s for us to decide,” Azriel shot back.

“You know how they treat their females,” the deep voice responded.

Azriel said nothing.

The deep voice then continued, “Rhys, what do you want us to do?”

“I want you to keep this quiet for now. For all we know, he’s still looking for her.”

Azriel, hesitantly but with a touch of frustration, asked, “What about her mate?”

Your heart caught in your throat.

A pause from all of them. “That is not our concern,” Rhysand responded.

Azriel’s voice grew louder. “She’s running from him, Rhys! We can’t just do nothing. Who knows what he might do to her?”

Rhysand, his voice calm and collected, said, “Az, she doesn’t want to tell us anything about him. We can’t do anything unless she asks for help.”

Azriel, almost yelling, responded, “She’s terrified to say anything!”

The deep voice tried to calm him, “Az-”

“No!” Azriel stopped him. “Rhys, he’s in her head all the time. She screams his name every night. She’s been running from him. Who knows what he’s been doing to her?”

Rhysand replied, “Azriel, we cannot overstep boundaries. I’ve already entered her mind without her consent. If we do anything without her permission, we are causing more harm than good.”

“So we let her go? Let her keep running from him?”

Rhysand paused. “It is her choice what to do with her life.”

“She doesn’t want this!” Azriel yelled again.

“How can you be so sure what she wants?” Rhysand responded.

Your mind raced. Why did it matter who this male in your dream was? Why would they care? Your heart nearly stopped as you considered them knowing your mate existed, suddenly fearing they might call him to come and get you. You started thinking through a story to stop them, but then you heard the sound of a chair scraping against the floor and footsteps approaching. You stepped back, pressing your rucksack against the wall. The door flew open, and Azriel stood before you, his face hot with anger that faded slightly when he saw you.

“Y/N-” he stammered, “Hi, good morning.”

“Good morning,” you responded, taking a step forward slightly.

Azriel looked over his shoulder back into the room and then turned back to you, shifting slightly as he looked you up and down. “What—where are you going?” he asked, his face turning more concerned.

You looked down at your clothes and then back at his face. “I’m heading out. I was wondering if someone could take me down.”

Azriel’s fingers flexed around the door as he seemed to fidget more. “You’re leaving?” he stammered.

“I think it’s just time for me to move on,” you said, shifting slightly in your boots.

As you finished, Rhysand appeared in the doorway behind Azriel, who took a slight step out of his way. “You don’t have to go,” Rhysand noted. “You can stay as long as you like.”

You looked at Rhysand, smiling politely. “You’ve been so generous, but I’m just feeling an itch to move on.”

Azriel started to speak, but Rhysand cut him off. “Of course,” he said. “It’s been our pleasure to have you.”

You looked to Azriel, whose face hardened at Rhysand’s words, but he didn’t speak. From behind Rhysand, another male with Illyrian wings, a much larger frame, and shoulder-length black hair appeared.

“You’re leaving? But I just got here!” his voice boomed.

“You must be Cassian,” you said, smiling at the bright face with a beaming smile back at you.

“So you’ve heard of me? These guys don’t just spend all their time talking about themselves?” Cassian pushed between the two males, coming to stand in front of you, his hand outstretched.

You reached to him, shaking it lightly, his calloused grip hard. “Well, mostly Nesta.”

Cassian smirked. “So you’ve only heard the bad things.”

You chuckled, readjusting the pack on your back. “Just that she missed you.”

“Not that I’m the biggest pain in her ass and that she wishes I’d fly into the side of a mountain?” Cassian smirked back.

“No, nothing like that,” you replied, “just a little.”

Cassian chuckled slightly. “Well, it brings me too much joy to terrorize her day to stop now.”

Rhysand broke back in, “I can take you down. I have to get back home anyway.”

You nodded slightly, noticing how Azriel’s face tightened to the point where you thought his skin might snap.

Cassian gave you a kind smile. “It’s been nice to meet you, even if you’re so rudely leaving.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not my fault you’ve been avoiding me.”

Cassian turned, walking down the hall towards Nesta’s room. “Someone has to work around here,” he threw his hands up and continued through the doors at the end of the hall, calling over his shoulder, “Good luck out there, kid!”

Azriel’s fingers loosened and gripped the doorframe again. Rhysand reached out his hand to yours. “Shall we?”

You looked between Azriel and Rhys before taking a few steps forward and wrapping your arms around Azriel’s neck. “Thank you,” you whispered to him.

Azriel seemed stunned momentarily before he wrapped his own arms around you, resting his chin on your head, one arm coming around your shoulders, pressing his fingers into your shoulder, the other coming around your waist.

“Of course,” he whispered back.

You took in his scent, mist and cedar, breathing him in deeply as you clenched your eyes shut. You couldn’t figure out why, but you felt a deepening sadness when you pulled away. Azriel seemed reluctant to let go. You pushed onto your tiptoes, pressing a kiss onto Azriel’s cheek. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Take care, Azriel,” you said to him.

“You do the same,” he responded, opening his eyes, and letting one hand take your own. He rubbed his scarred thumb over the back of your hand as you stepped back, taking Rhysand’s hand in yours.

When you let go of Azriel’s grip, the world spun in black and gray, and you felt a single tear slip down your cheek.

When you landed, you found yourself standing in the middle of a busy cobblestone street near the large gates to the entrance of Velaris. Fighting off the nausea, you leaned forward, and Rhysand placed a comforting hand on your back.

“Does that ever get less disorienting?” you panted.

“I’ve been doing it for about 400 years. I don’t think I’m the right person to ask,” he laughed.

You took a few more gasping breaths, trying to steady yourself. As you did, the familiar scents of your childhood city filled your senses—the sweet smell of baking bread and the yeasty delight wafting from the baker's square. You stood upright, peering around at the gray stone buildings with the banners of the Night Court flying high above their spires. Your heart felt suddenly full as you envisioned yourself walking through the streets with your mother, seeing the world from so much closer to the ground. You tried not to let your mouth fall open in awe.

Rhysand gave you a light smile. “You recognize this?”

“I spent a few years here in my early childhood.”

“It’s a pretty magical place to grow up,” Rhysand remarked, looking around.

You nodded slightly.

Rhysand’s gaze landed on you. “You don’t have to leave, you know? You can stay here. We can find you a place to live.”

You shook your head, smiling politely while looking at your feet. “It’s alright. Somewhere else is calling me. I just need to find it.”

Rhysand nodded. “I understand. Sometimes we have to carve our own paths.”

You nodded again.

“If anything happens, or you need anything, you will always have a home here,” Rhysand assured you.

You tried to push down the tears and the lump forming in your throat as you smiled at him. He gestured to the gates. “This is the closest I can get you to the exit without putting you outside.”

“It’s perfect,” you replied.

“You have everything you need?” he asked.

“More than enough,” you responded.

Rhysand nodded lightly, reaching out his hand to shake yours, but instead, you took a step forward and wrapped him in a hug. He hugged you back. “Thank you,” you said.

“Of course,” he responded as you pulled back, turning and walking toward the shining steel gates.

“Be safe,” Rhysand called.

“I will,” you called back, before stepping outside the gates of Velaris and into the wilderness, immediately feeling a hole forming in your stomach as you walked farther and farther from that wondrous, shining place.

To my readers, much love. Be prepared for what's to come, we're getting serious out here. @thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt @romantacyreader28 @caroline-books @slytherintaco @sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2 @405rry @sleepylunarwolf @acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba @julesofvolterra

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thedensworld · 16 hours

Text

Bucket of Happiness | J.Ww

Pairing: Businessman! Wonwoo x reader ft. Mingyu

Genre: Angst, fluff, friends to lovers

Summary: After the divorce settled, you immediately moved to Canada for your treatment. Meanwhile, Wonwoo has to run away from his parents who couldn't stop forcing him to get married.

Here's the part 1 | part 2 (Falling Flowers Series)

Wonwoo couldn't believe his own eyes when he saw a familiar figure step into the elevator. Both of them froze, realizing they could meet each other even after traveling thousands of miles. Awkwardly, Wonwoo bowed his head in greeting as you entered the elevator, the tension palpable between them.

Neither dared to say a word, letting only the jazz music fill the silence. When the elevator stopped at the 8th floor, you bowed your head before stepping out, revealing that you lived right behind his floor. Wonwoo sighed with the revelation, realizing you were in Canada, the same country as him.

It had only been two months since Wonwoo drank with Mingyu, his friend, right after Mingyu's divorce with you was settled. It wasn't a celebratory drink, Wonwoo assumed, but Mingyu didn't say anything about why he was drinking like a madman after his divorce request was accepted. Wonwoo didn't dare to ask, but he always sensed that something was up.

Meeting you in this country was a surprising revelation for him. He hadn't expected to encounter anyone he knew from Korea after deciding to leave the country for a few months following a huge fight with his parents. Leaving his business to his workers wasn't the same as being there himself. His trust had decreased, with too much monitoring, and he felt alone. He craved solace but not solitude.

Mingyu and Seungcheol had been calling him since he landed two days ago. He wanted to tell them he had safely arrived in Ottawa, the capital city of Canada. However, he didn't want anyone to know his whereabouts after the controversy his parents caused at their charity ball two weeks ago. They announced a future wedding for Wonwoo with a woman he had never met, without his consent.

Now, he was taking a risk by leaving everything behind in South Korea, choosing to live his life in peace here.

As the doorbell rang at 8 p.m., Wonwoo, engrossed in monitoring files sent by his secretary, stood up and opened the door. His eyes widened in shock as he saw you standing there with plastic bags filled with vegetables and a portable stove in your other hand.

"Hi..." you said, and Wonwoo nodded in response, his gaze shifting from you to the items in your hands, then back to you.

"I remembered Mingyu mentioned you like hot pot, want to have some?" you asked, raising your hands higher to show him what you brought.

Wonwoo, surprised but curious, accepted the offer, taking everything from your hands and inviting you inside. He stepped aside to let you in, and you followed, heading straight to the dining table and starting to prepare the ingredients for the hot pot.

Wonwoo assisted with the portable stove, marveling at your deft hands as you worked quickly. No words were exchanged beyond simple requests for utensils or ingredients.

Feeling the silence stretch, Wonwoo finally asked how you knew his unit. "The elevator," you explained simply, and Wonwoo nodded in acknowledgment, realizing you must have seen it stop at the floor above yours earlier that day.

"Enjoy the meal," Wonwoo said as you both sat down to eat, and you nodded, smiling.

The two of you enjoyed the food in a calm and quiet atmosphere, and once it was finished, you tidied up together before leaving his apartment, no words exchanged between you.

Wonwoo saw you again after a week. He was reading by the window when he saw you walking on the other side of the street with a few bags in your hands. Wonwoo's lips lifted at the sight; for a petite figure like yours, you were indeed strong. It reminded him of Mingyu's words about how you were physically and emotionally strong.

However, Wonwoo noticed something different about you that he couldn't quite tell. He watched you until your figure was out of his sight. "Did you cut your hair?" he thought. He was sure your hair was pretty long the last time you met. What he saw earlier was you with shoulder-length hair covered with a cap, making you appear younger. "A little appearance change might be good after a divorce," Wonwoo thought.

When Wonwoo decided to go for a run, he noticed another bag hooked onto his doorknob, just like the other day. Today, it was filled with fruits, the same ones you had in your hands earlier. Last time, you had given him a homecooked meal with a note to warm it before eating, which he found kind and thoughtful. Perhaps you had heard about what happened to him back in South Korea.

The other day, it was a salad bowl. Wonwoo intended to reciprocate the gesture. On his way back home, he picked up some sour bread and left it on your doorknob with a note of thanks, hoping you would know it was from him. This exchange continued, each giving to the other, until Wonwoo found himself constantly thinking about what he should get for you, even while he was away in another city.

It had been a month since he moved to Ottawa. He explored most of the city by running and taking public transportation, using stops at coffee shops to make calls and emails for his business. Despite the change in scenery, he remained a diligent businessman, ensuring every investment was worthwhile.

Now, standing in front of the liquor store, Wonwoo pondered whether to get you a bottle of whiskey or wine. He couldn't recall Mingyu ever mentioning your drinking habits. In fact, Mingyu rarely brought you up in conversation unless it reminded him of Nari, their best friend who was now married to Seungcheol.

This reflection brought Wonwoo back to the time when Mingyu mentioned that you reminded him of Nari. Indeed, as Wonwoo got to know you when you and Mingyu were still married, he noticed the physical similarities and the same calm and peaceful vibe you both emanated. You and Nari shared a protective nature towards others, seeming to care deeply about everyone else above yourselves.

Despite the exchange of gifts, you and Wonwoo hadn't met or exchanged words since the hot pot that night.

Wonwoo was just about to place a box of wine in front of your door when it swung open, revealing your figure, which shockingly appeared thinner than before. He momentarily mistook you for someone else, taken aback by your hollow cheeks and thin frame. Quickly dismissing his thoughts, Wonwoo retrieved the box and handed it to you personally.

"I just got back from Quebec for business. They said this is their best," Wonwoo explained.

You accepted the wine with a nod of thanks. "You don't have to," you said softly.

Wonwoo shook his head, insisting, "How could I not? You've been so thoughtful to me. Thank you so much, by the way."

You offered him a polite smile, and Wonwoo noticed two large trash bags filled to the brim sitting in front of your door. Without hesitation, he asked, "Are you going to recycle? Want me to help?"

"No, no, it's okay!" you refused, but Wonwoo insisted on helping.

Walking side by side with you, Wonwoo lifted both trash bags, not allowing you to carry them. "Have you had dinner?" you asked him, and Wonwoo shook his head. You then kindly offered him a meal as gratitude, and Wonwoo nodded, glad that you were starting to engage in conversation.

While waiting for the budae-jjigae to cook, you locked eyes with Wonwoo, causing him to bite his lip nervously. After a moment of silence, he finally mustered the courage to ask, "How are you?"

You took a moment to respond before saying, "better than before?" Wonwoo couldn't help but wonder what Mingyu had done to elicit such a response from you.

"And how about you, Mr. Jeon?" you asked in return.

Wonwoo shook his head. "Please call me Wonwoo. You're not Seungcheol hyung's secretary anymore," he said, smiling. "I'm great. I feel comfortable here, despite being far from home."

You mentioned that Nari had told you about his disappearance and how everyone was searching for him. Wonwoo's smile turned bitter. "So you heard about that," he said, nodding as you bit your lip.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you. Your parents... They were in the wrong, and I understand your decision to seek peace," you said softly.

Wonwoo took a deep breath before exhaling. "Are you doing the same thing here? Seeking peace?" he asked.

"I don't know. I came here for another reason, but I have found some peace," you replied with a smile, noticing that the meal was ready.

"Please, help yourself," you offered.

Wonwoo smiled and lifted his spoon and bowl of rice. "Thanks for the meal," he said warmly.

Wonwoo found relief after talking with you that night. He called his mother and informed her that he was doing well in Canada. Following your suggestion, he calmly explained his feelings about the marriage agenda his parents had been pushing, expressing his disappointment about the last event. After that call, he never felt so light-hearted.

He continued to get you things, whether it was food, cake, or books. Sometimes he saw you bringing home stacks of books, so he assumed you liked reading just like him. Tonight, he had just returned from meeting an old friend. As he walked to the elevator, a crew of medics rushed in. When they pressed the button for your floor, his heart sank.

"Is something happening to someone in that unit?" Wonwoo asked one of them.

"Do you know her? She was dialing an emergency call before she collapsed," one of the medics replied.

Wonwoo's brows furrowed in concern. He immediately followed them after they gave him permission, explaining that he was a friend of yours. With the help of the building's staff, they opened your door and entered your apartment. There you were, collapsed on the floor with your phone lying beside you. He felt a wave of relief knowing that you had managed to dial the emergency number.

As you arrived at the nearest hospital, Wonwoo offered himself to be your guardian. Holding his phone tightly, he felt an urge to call Mingyu, but he hesitated, wanting to respect your privacy. He couldn't help but notice the loss of your radiance after your sudden weight loss, and he couldn't shake the thought that it might be a result of the divorce.

When Mingyu informed him of his intention to divorce you, Wonwoo wasn't surprised. There had been signs that something was amiss in your marriage with Mingyu. It was a Friday night when Mingyu decided to stay at Wonwoo's house.

"You don't want to come home?" Wonwoo asked, puzzled by Mingyu's decision to stay the night.

"I'm divorcing Y/n," Mingyu blurted out.

Wonwoo stopped in his tracks. "Why?" he asked, unable to comprehend Mingyu's reasoning. "Is it because of the rumors?" he continued, pressing Mingyu for an answer.

Mingyu shook his head. "I intended to divorce her long before the rumors," he confessed.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow. "Is it because of her miscarriage?" he asked.

Mingyu was silent for a moment before exhaling heavily. "It wasn't a miscarriage," he began. "She aborted them."

Wonwoo remembered how Mingyu had cried after confessing his intention to divorce you. However, months later, after the divorce was finalized, Mingyu called him for a drink, and Wonwoo could see regret in his friend's eyes. Many questions remained unanswered. Did Mingyu still love you? Was Mingyu happy during your marriage? How did you feel about the divorce?

"Y/n Ji's guardian?" Wonwoo was called, prompting him to swiftly make his way to the nurse station. He listened attentively as they briefed him on your condition.

"Ms. Ji's condition is stable, but she'll need to stay in the hospital for a few days. Please fill out this form and send it to the administration station," the nurse instructed.

Wonwoo nodded, but before taking the form, he inquired, "May I know what happened to her?"

"Nothing serious. She collapsed due to exhaustion and is undergoing medical treatment. It appears she may have taken the wrong dose of medication. The doctor will explain in detail," the nurse replied.

After handling the administrative tasks, Wonwoo accompanied you to your room. The doctor informed him that you had taken an incorrect dose of medication, causing you to lose consciousness. The doctor also mentioned that you would need to remain in the hospital until your chemotherapy appointment, which caught Wonwoo off guard. Chemotherapy? Were you ill? Did Mingyu know about this?

"I'm sorry to have caused you trouble," you said weakly, but still grateful.

Wonwoo shook his head. "No need to apologize. I'm just glad you're okay. You did well to dial the emergency number."

Handing you back your phone, he said, "I've put my number in as your emergency contact. Please call me if anything happens."

You accepted the phone with a weak smile. "Thank you."

There was a pause before Wonwoo cautiously asked, "Are you sick?" He didn't want to offend you with his question.

You smiled, not directly answering, but Wonwoo understood. Yes, you were sick, and it seemed serious.

"Are you here for treatment?" he asked, and you confirmed it.

"Have you told Mingyu?" Wonwoo inquired, and you nodded.

"So you're still in communication?" he assumed, but you shook your head.

"Mingyu knew. He knew before we were officially divorced," you revealed.

Wonwoo scowled. Mingyu knew about your illness and still went through with the divorce?

"Is it serious, your illness?" he asked with concern.

You thought for a moment. "I don't know, but it could be life-threatening. I've worked hard to get to this point," you explained, mentioning that this hospital was the only one with the procedure for your cancer.

"If you're wondering why Mingyu still divorced me despite knowing this, it's because I asked him not to stop the divorce process," you added, answering another question in his mind.

Wonwoo shook his head, his worry evident. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

You smiled. "No need to apologize. You're Mingyu's friend, so it's natural for you to wonder. I understand."

"It was the best decision for both of us. In fact, it wasn't difficult to divorce," you said calmly.

Wonwoo sighed, feeling a pang of sadness. You had no idea how much Mingyu had loved you when you were still carrying his child.

Wonwoo took a moment to absorb Mingyu's flurry of questions and colorful language, a mixture of relief and amusement washing over him at his friend's outburst. After two months of silence, he couldn't blame Mingyu for being a tad dramatic.

"I'm in Ottawa, enjoying my life here," Wonwoo finally replied, a smile evident in his voice despite the distance.

There was a brief pause before Mingyu dropped the unexpected bombshell. "Y/n is in Ottawa as well."

Wonwoo's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Actually, I live right above her apartment," he admitted, his tone tinged with intrigue.

Mingyu's chuckle resonated through the phone. "What a small world, right?"

The conversation lulled into silence before Wonwoo decided to break it. "Hey, would you like to know how she's doing? I see her around quite often."

Mingyu's response was immediate, tinged with a mix of concern and uncertainty. "Yeah, please... Is she alright?"

The conversation shifted, and Wonwoo could feel Mingyu's apprehension when he broached the topic of your well-being. It was clear that you held a special place in Mingyu's heart, even if you were no longer together.

Mingyu's next question caught him off guard, stumbling over his words in typical Mingyu fashion. "Um, is she... still the same? I mean, does she still look the same? Gosh, I know this is a stupid question—"

"Yeah, she's doing great," Wonwoo reassured him, sensing Mingyu's relief on the other end of the line.

"She's improving, Mingyu," Wonwoo answered, understanding Mingyu's concern.

"She looks thinner, but her health is improving. She cut her hair. It falls easily after a month of chemo," Wonwoo informed Mingyu, his voice gentle yet tinged with concern.

Mingyu's response was subdued, his words trailing off as if lost in thought. "So, you know..."

"Yes," Wonwoo replied softly, choosing not to divulge the full extent of your recent struggles, not wanting to burden Mingyu further.

"Thanks... Please take care of her for me," Mingyu requested, his tone heavy with a mix of gratitude and resignation.

"Why don't you come here and do it yourself if you really care about her?" Wonwoo wondered, unable to suppress the hint of reproach in his voice.

"I... I don't deserve her," Mingyu confessed, his admission laden with regret and self-doubt.

"What do you mean?" Wonwoo's eyebrows furrowed in surprise, puzzled by Mingyu's sudden self-deprecation.

"Hyung..." Mingyu's voice cracked, and to Wonwoo's shock, he could hear the sound of Mingyu sobbing through the phone, his heart sinking at the raw emotion in Mingyu's voice.

"Hey, don't cry... Are you at the office? Home?" Wonwoo asked, concern flooding his tone as he worried about Mingyu breaking down in public. The revelation of Mingyu's vulnerability added another layer to their conversation, deepening Wonwoo's sense of responsibility towards both Mingyu and you.

"Home, I took the day off," Mingyu admitted.

Wonwoo sighed heavily, his heart aching as he realized the depth of Mingyu's inner turmoil. He knew all too well that Mingyu rarely took days off, throwing himself tirelessly into work as a way to distract himself from the pain of loding Qp your unborn child.

"I just don't deserve her. I'm an asshole! So please... Take care of her for me," Mingyu pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion.

Wonwoo shook his head in disbelief, struggling to comprehend Mingyu's self-condemnation. "Mingyu..."

"She did indeed have a miscarriage. She kept our baby, but she miscarried because of cervical cancer," Mingyu revealed, his words weighted with sorrow and regret.

Wonwoo's eyes widened in shock at Mingyu's revelation, his mind struggling to process the gravity of the situation. "What?"

"I was about to cancel the divorce request, but she insisted." Mingyu confessed, his voice heavy with guilt and remorse.

As the truth sank in, Wonwoo felt a surge of empathy for both Mingyu and you, realizing the complexity of the emotions swirling beneath the surface. The weight of Mingyu's confession added another layer of complexity to their friendship, leaving Wonwoo grappling with the tangled web of love, loss, and regret that bound them all together.

Wonwoo closed his eyes, his hand unconsciously going to his heart, feeling a sharp pain in his chest as if something inside him was being torn apart by Mingyu's confession. The weight of Mingyu's words hung heavily in the air, suffocating Wonwoo with a mixture of sorrow and disbelief.

"I'm sorry I told you this. I couldn't think straight after the divorce. I can't stop thinking about how much I hurted her," Mingyu admitted, his voice laden with remorse.

Wonwoo didn't say a word. He couldn't find the right words to express the turmoil raging inside him. With a heavy heart, he ended the call, tears streaming down his cheeks unchecked. His chest felt like it was being crushed under the weight of Mingyu's confession, his heart shattered into a million pieces.

As he sat alone in the silence that followed, Wonwoo couldn't shake the feeling of overwhelming sadness that engulfed him. He had thought you didn't deserve Mingyu, but now he realized that it was Mingyu who didn't deserve you. The depth of your love and the pain you had endured only served to highlight your strength and resilience in the face of adversity. Wonwoo couldn't help but feel a profound sense of admiration for you, realizing that you deserved nothing less than the world.

Seungcheol introduced a woman he brought to Wonwoo's birthday as his new secretary before Wonwoo could jump to any assumptions about her relationship with Seungcheol. Having just broken up with Nari before she went abroad to continue her studies, Seungcheol was keen on avoiding any misunderstandings. So, when Wonwoo saw a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Nari accompanying Seungcheol, he almost blurted out, "You have a type, hyung."

"This is Jeon Wonwoo, a friend of mine," Seungcheol introduced Wonwoo to you, offering his hand for a shake.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Jeon," you said, your voice resembling Nari's, causing Wonwoo's eyes to widen as he shot a glance at Seungcheol.

Seungcheol then left you to enjoy the party while he engaged in conversation with Wonwoo. "How did you find her?" Wonwoo inquired.

"She applied. She used to be an intern at JIS Corp," Seungcheol replied, knowing that Wonwoo's mother had connections to JIS.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow. "Did she graduate from JIS as well?"

"I can't recall, but she did attend JIS Senior High School. She's a Seoul University graduate, though," Seungcheol recalled.

Wonwoo chuckled. "You've found yourself quite a catch, hyung."

Seungcheol nodded in agreement. "She's exceptional, and it's only her first month."

As Wonwoo scanned the room, his eyes sought out your figure once more. He observed you engaging in conversation with an older guest, wearing a smile that seemed all too familiar. Suddenly, a face from his high school days flashed in his mind—his long-time crush.

Wonwoo never knew her name; she was just a girl he had noticed during his final year of high school, the year he was preparing to apply for college. In truth, Wonwoo had never spoken to her, never heard her voice. It was simply her beauty that captivated him, locking his gaze onto her whenever she came into view.

She was a quiet girl, content to smile and nod in the company of her friends. Wonwoo's first real interaction with her occurred during a volunteering event at the Foster Home. There, he saw her engrossed in a book, surrounded by children hanging onto her every word. Her pretty eyes sparkled with each motion she made while reading to them, and in that moment, Wonwoo couldn't help but fall for her.

He wished love were that easy, that it wouldn't be as complicated as his parents' strained relationship, held together by financial ties. He wished it wouldn't be as tangled as Mingyu's feelings for Nari, who loved Seungcheol instead. He longed for love to be as effortless as breathing, as simple as yawning.

Yet, as he grew older, Wonwoo watched those around him experience divorce, breakups, and constant quarrels. He began to lose hope, yearning for nothing more than peace. All he wanted was tranquility amidst the chaos of love's complexities.

Mingyu often sought Wonwoo's counsel regarding your rights within your former father's company, a topic that shed light on your background. Wonwoo was surprised to learn that your father was Ji Sunggi, the former president and founder of JIS Corp. Despite the shock, Wonwoo couldn't deny a sense of expectation; your association with such a prominent figure hinted at a background far from ordinary.

At another one of his birthday parties, doubling as the launch for his label JW Entertainment, Seungcheol brought you as his plus one. After years of dedicated service as Seungcheol's secretary, Wonwoo witnessed your brilliance firsthand as you seamlessly assisted Seungcheol throughout the event. With your quick and comprehensive briefings, you ensured that Seungcheol was always well-informed, making him the center of attention and admiration.

From his vantage point, Wonwoo observed you gracefully mingling with the other guests, your presence exuding a natural elegance that could rival even the most seasoned conglomerates. However, amidst your confident demeanor, Wonwoo couldn't help but notice moments of discomfort, subtle signs betraying a vulnerability beneath the facade of confidence.

As he watched you navigate the social landscape with poise and tact, Wonwoo couldn't shake the feeling of admiration that stirred within him. Despite any insecurities you may have harbored, your ability to shine in the spotlight was undeniable, leaving Wonwoo marveling at the depth of your talent and resilience.

As Wonwoo exited the restroom, he inadvertently overheard two women engaged in a hushed conversation about Mingyu and another person, presumably you. Their expressions were tense, and their whispers carried hints of disdain and resentment.

"How could she talk to us like that?!"

"She thinks she's better than us?"

Wonwoo, with a soft smile on his face, politely approached the two women. "Good evening, ladies..."

Startled by the unexpected presence of the party's host, the two women grew flustered, their demeanor shifting uncomfortably under Wonwoo's gaze.

"I'm so sorry for disturbing, but the person that you're talking about," Wonwoo motioned towards Mingyu and you, "are my friends. So I would appreciate it if you refrained from discussing them in such a manner."

The women scowled, clearly displeased by Wonwoo's intervention.

"Who is she?" one of them dared to ask, emboldened by Wonwoo's calm demeanor.

Wonwoo let out a soft chuckle, his hands slipping into his pockets as he considered his response. "She's related to Choi Seungcheol from Choi Corp. Didn't you receive an invitation as a plus one from their company?"

With that, Wonwoo left the women behind, his steps quick as he made his way towards you. However, before he could reach you, he noticed Mingyu approaching, his hand reaching out to pull you closer to him from Lee Jaewook. The intimate gesture caught Wonwoo's attention, sparking a flicker of concern in his mind.

Did he just see Mingyu pull you into his embrace?

Wonwoo sighed, a mix of disappointment and apprehension clouding his thoughts. Whatever intentions Mingyu harbored towards you, Wonwoo couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach.

As Wonwoo glanced around the room, his eyes fell upon a picture hanging on the wall, drawing his attention with a sudden pang of curiosity.

"Who's this?" he asked, pointing to the photograph.

You turned towards him, your movements graceful as you approached, a soft smile playing on your lips. "That's me and my high school friends," you replied, your voice a gentle melody that seemed to stir something within Wonwoo.

"Which one is you?" Wonwoo inquired, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned in, his heart racing with anticipation.

Your finger delicately landed on a girl with a ponytail, her smile radiant as she was hugged by a friend. Wonwoo's breath caught in his throat as he turned to look at you, seeing a resemblance between the girl in the photograph and the person standing before him.

A sudden realization washed over Wonwoo, and he couldn't help but chuckle softly. You tilted your head in confusion, unable to comprehend the amusement dancing in Wonwoo's eyes. Little did you know, Wonwoo had just uncovered the reason behind his inexplicable attraction to you since the moment you first crossed paths. In you, he saw echoes of his first love, a connection that had been unknowingly tugging at his heartstrings all along. It was you after all.

"Let's go, I'm ready," you said, flashing a bright smile at Wonwoo, who couldn't help but admire the resilience and courage shining in your eyes. It had been your wish to have your picture taken before losing all your hair due to chemotherapy, and Wonwoo was more than willing to accompany you, grateful for the opportunity to spend time together outside of their usual routine.

As Wonwoo watched you pose for the photographer, his smile grew wider, his heart swelling with admiration for your strength and positivity in the face of adversity. He couldn't resist capturing the moment himself, pulling out his phone to snap a picture of you, a small gesture of appreciation for the beauty he saw in you.

Unexpectedly, the photographer suggested taking a picture together, catching Wonwoo off guard. It wasn't part of the plan, but when you nodded and motioned for him to join you, Wonwoo couldn't bring himself to refuse. There was a spark in your eyes and a genuine warmth in your smile that melted his defenses, reminding him of the feelings he harbored for you since high school.

As the photographer snapped a few shots of the two of you together, Wonwoo couldn't shake the surreal feeling of standing beside his long-time crush, realizing just how much you meant to him.

After the photoshoot, as you approached to review the results, Wonwoo stepped aside, feeling a pang of sadness tugging at his heart when you joked about wanting a good memorial picture. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, reminding Wonwoo of the fragility of life and the preciousness of every moment spent with you.

Wonwoo and you stopped at a cozy coffee shop before heading home. You sipped your hot coffee while gazing out the window, lost in thought. Wonwoo watched you intently, noticing how you seemed to grow thinner day by day.

"How's the treatment going?" Wonwoo asked gently, breaking the silence and for the first time broaching the subject of your cancer treatment.

You put down your cup, a faint smile playing on your lips. "It’s just started. The doctor said I might start losing a lot of hair after the next chemo session. She suggested I cut it shorter to make it easier."

Wonwoo nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "It’s just started?" he repeated softly, trying to gauge how you were truly feeling.

"Yes," you replied, your voice tinged with a mix of resignation and courage. "The hurting phase is about to happen." You smiled bitterly, your eyes drifting away from his to the pedestrians passing by outside. The vibrant life beyond the window contrasted sharply with the quiet battle you faced, making Wonwoo's heart ache for you.

Wonwoo bit his lips, lowering his head as he gathered his thoughts. "You shouldn't pass away," he murmured, his voice filled with emotion.

You turned to him, puzzled. "What?"

Wonwoo sighed deeply. "I heard your conversation with the photographer earlier. You should live for a long time," he said softly but with conviction. "A lot of people care about you. Seungcheol hyung, Nari, Mingyu... I care about you too. So, please, don’t give up."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips. "Wonwoo, if I had given up, I wouldn't be here," you joked lightly. "Getting treated was my decision. When Mingyu asked for a divorce, I realized the only person I could rely on was myself. That's why I'm working hard to get healthy again."

You paused for a moment, the weight of your thoughts heavy on your mind. "But," you continued, your voice trembling slightly, "I don't know, Wonwoo. I might die tomorrow."

Your gaze dropped to your fingers resting on your lap, tracing the lines absentmindedly. "I just want to spend my life doing the things I want," you said softly.

Wonwoo cleared his throat and immediately straightened his posture. "What do you want? Let's do it," he declared with enthusiasm, prompting a soft laugh from you.

"I want a baby," you said, your eyes twinkling mischievously.

Wonwoo blinked, taken aback. "I can't help with that one," he responded, stepping back slightly and giving you a startled look.

You laughed at his reaction, shaking your head. "Adopting. I was thinking about adopting a child."

Wonwoo sighed in relief, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "That sounds great. But are you sure though? I mean, with all the treatment and... taking care of a child..."

You blew out a breath, nodding thoughtfully. "Right, I didn’t think about that."

"Actually," Wonwoo began, his tone shifting to a more hopeful note, "my mother has been fundraising for a foster home in Seoul. We could pay them a visit if you want." He pulled out his phone, scrolling to find the pictures, and showed you an image of the foster home he was referring to.

Your eyes lit up as you looked at the photos. "That sounds wonderful, Wonwoo. I’d love to visit."

Wonwoo’s heart warmed at your response. "Great! We can plan a trip soon. It’ll be a nice break for both of us," he said, already thinking about how to make the visit special for you.

However, he noticed the color of your face change. He raised his brows, questioning your condition just in case you felt under the weather. He had mentioned that you should wear something warmer.

"Are you okay though? I saw the news," you asked him carefully, bringing up Wonwoo's situation that had brought him to Ottawa in the first place. Where media has been focused to Wonwoo since he left Seoul.

Wonwoo nodded in acknowledgement. "You saw it," he mumbled. "You might have heard about my parents. They're pretty particular about everything, including my love life. They kind of crossed the line," he explained in a subtle manner, not wanting to overshare his sudden engagement announcement that made by his parent months ago.

You could sense the weight of his words, the tension behind his calm exterior. "I'm sorry to hear that. It must be tough dealing with so much pressure from family."

He sighed softly, appreciating your empathy. "It is, but it's something I've gotten used to. Still, it helps to have someone who understands."

There was a silence from you before you stated, "It's better than having no family at all, right?" You pointed to yourself, eliciting a smile from Wonwoo.

Wonwoo knew about your family situation. He knew how you were adopted, how you lost your father, and how your stepmother had abandoned you.

He nodded thoughtfully, the smile lingering on his face. "You're right," he said softly. "I guess we both have our own struggles with family, just in different ways."

You gave him a small, understanding smile. "Yeah, but it makes us who we are. Stronger, I suppose."

Wonwoo's eyes softened. "Exactly. And it's good to have friends who get it."

Then Wonwoo raised an eyebrow. "Are we friends, though?" he asked playfully.

You rolled your eyes and dramatically gasped, placing your hand on your chest. "I can't believe what you've just said. You're paying!" You motioned to the coffee and desserts on the table.

Wonwoo smiled widely and stood up. "Alright, alright." He grabbed his wallet and walked to the cashier. As he did, he felt a sense of relief and happiness wash over him, knowing you were a true friend now—not just a crush like it used to be.

In two weeks, both you and Wonwoo flew to Seoul with a clear decision to visit the foster home Wonwoo had mentioned. Your decision to adopt a child had been wavering, but you knew you were mentally ready, and Wonwoo had been an incredible support system for you. Wonwoo mentioned that Mingyu missed you and wanted to meet, but you decided to visit your mother first after going to the foster home.

Upon arrival, Wonwoo greeted everyone warmly and politely. The staff remembered him fondly, mentioning that he often visited the foster home from high school through college. It was heartwarming to see how much he was loved and respected there.

"Why?" you asked him, wanting to know the reason.

Wonwoo shrugged, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips. "I had good memories visiting here when I was a kid. I remember always thinking it was fun to play with the kids," he explained, before running off to join a group of children, his laughter blending with theirs.

Walking through the halls of the foster home, you could feel a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. The children's laughter echoed through the building, filling it with a sense of hope and innocence. You exchanged a glance with Wonwoo, who squeezed your hand reassuringly, reminding you that you were not alone in this journey.

As you met the children, your heart swelled with emotion. Their bright eyes and genuine smiles touched you deeply, and you felt a connection you hadn't expected. The idea of adopting one of these wonderful children began to feel less daunting and more like a calling.

"Do you remember how you were as a kid?" Wonwoo asked as the two of you waited for the director.

You thought for a moment. "I don't really remember much, but I think I was pretty cheerful. My father used to say he loved hearing my cheerful voice whenever he came home from work."

Wonwoo chuckled, his eyes softening. "I can tell. You do have that cheerful side sometimes," he retorted, and you raised your brows in confusion.

"Really? When?" you asked, genuinely curious.

However, Wonwoo didn't pay attention to your curiosity, as his focus shifted to an elderly woman, seemingly in her 70s, approaching both of you.

"Long time no see, ma'am," Wonwoo said, bowing politely to the director of the foster home.

"This is Ji Y/N. She's from Canada and has been wanting to visit here," Wonwoo introduced you to the director.

You smiled and bowed at the director, but what you gained from her was something unexpected.

"Y/N? Is it really you?" she asked, her eyes widening in surprise and recognition.

You blinked, taken aback. "Have we met before?" Your eyes shifted to Wonwoo, silently asking for help. However, Wonwoo looked as clueless as you felt.

The director, named Kim Jaewha, approached you, holding your arms with eyes that showed disbelief. "Are you really Y/N? The girl who was adopted by the Ji family?"

Wonwoo's eyes widened at the revelation, questions flying through his mind. "Were you raised here?" he asked, his voice tinged with shock.

Ms. Kim's eyes softened as she continued, "Do you remember me? I'm Ms. Kim, your nanny!"

You shook your head, struggling to recall any memories from before you were adopted. "I barely remember anything from that time," you admitted.

Ms. Kim's expression grew tender. "You were so young when you left. It's understandable that you don't remember much."

A flood of mixed emotions washed over you—surprise, confusion, and an unexpected sense of connection. You glanced at Wonwoo, who offered a supportive smile.

"How's your mother?"

Wonwoo had insisted on driving you to your mother's house, but you preferred to take a cab. It had been an emotional roller coaster earlier, and you didn't want to burden him any further with your tears and disappointment. Not toward your stepmother, but your real mother.

Kim Jaewha, who used to be your nanny, had dropped a bombshell that you had never heard before, and you were ready to confront your mother about it. All the revelations from the two-hour visit to the foster home had brought back the childhood memories you had lost due to a car accident.

On your way to your mother's house, the cab driver occasionally glanced at you through the rearview mirror as you sobbed in the back seat. You stepped out of the car and immediately walked up to the house.

"I'm sorry, but Mrs. Ji has requested no guests today," the maid said firmly.

You sighed, trying to steady your voice. "I'm no guest. I'm her daughter."

A quarrel ensued between you and the maid, your raised voices echoing through the hallway. The commotion caused your mother to step out, her expression stern as she took in the chaos.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I warned her about no guests today," the maid apologized, bowing deeply.

Your mother ordered her to leave with a sharp glance. As she approached you, her eyes scanned you from head to toe, a mixture of curiosity and irritation on her face..

"It's been half a year since your divorce, and only now do you decide to visit me?" your mother said, her tone laced with the usual disdain, as if your presence disgusted her.

You gulped, trying to steady yourself. "It's not your business," you replied, hearing her laugh—a cold, hollow sound.

"It is my business because your ex-husband, Mr. Kim, got involved in my business to secure your rights in the company," your mother retorted. She walked to her desk, grabbing the phone to call her secretary. "I need Mr. Yang for Y/N's rights administration. It's past the due date, so make sure he handles everything."

You looked at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes. "Your ex-husband saved my business on the condition that I grant you your rights after a year."

You blinked, processing this information. You thought it was supposed to be two years. What had Mingyu done behind your back?

"He was an amazing man. I don't understand why you two divorced," your mother mumbled.

"Anyway... I heard about your condition," she said, sitting on the couch and watching you from three meters away.

"Which condition?" you asked, your tone more defiant than you felt. She seemed surprised by your courage to talk back, but you noticed her face almost softened as she observed your changed appearance.

"Your health," she said after clearing her throat..

You took a deep breath before deciding to sit in front of her. "I also heard something about your condition," you started. "That you abandoned me at the foster home."

Your mother’s eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing.

"Was that why you tried to kill me after finding out the girl your husband had adopted is the daughter you had abandoned?" you asked, finally letting out the revelation you had just discovered.

You watched her tense up at your confession. "I always disgust you, right?" you asked, your voice trembling.

"As a woman, I pity you," you continued, your tone steady but filled with emotion. "Having to raise a daughter that you got from a man you couldn't marry before you abandoned her. Fate is so mean to you."

You paused, swallowing the lump in your throat. "However, as a child... I hate that you had to ruin mine just because yours was ruined."

You stood up from your seat. "I refuse the rights," you declared firmly.

"Let's not meet each other after this. Let's act like strangers, like you always wanted. Let's act like we have died to each other," you said, your voice breaking slightly as you turned and walked out of the house.

As you stepped outside, the weight of your words hung heavily in the air. The confrontation, painful and necessary, marked the end of a chapter that had caused you so much pain. You felt a strange sense of liberation, knowing that you had finally stood up for yourself and set the boundaries you needed.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you walked towards the gate. You saw your mother's figure standing at the door, her eyes filled with a mix of regret and resignation. She had started to chase after you but stopped, knowing it was too late. She had abandoned you long ago. Letting you go now wouldn't be difficult for her.

As you neared the gate, you spotted a familiar car parked by the side of the road. Wonwoo stepped out and immediately came to you, his eyes widening in concern when he saw you crying. He knew he should have been there to support you from the beginning.

He walked to you slowly, his eyes softening as he took in your condition. You looked into his eyes before leaning into his embrace, finally letting yourself cry harder on his chest.

"I'm so sorry for what happened to you," Wonwoo whispered, his voice filled with empathy and regret. "I'm so sorry..."

His arms tightened around you, providing the comfort and support you so desperately needed. In his embrace, you found a moment of solace, knowing that despite the pain and revelations, you weren't alone.

Wonwoo sat on one of the couches in Mingyu's office, guilt weighing heavily on his chest. Mingyu had greeted him excitedly earlier, offering him drinks and meals, and had even canceled his plans for the day to spend time with Wonwoo. Wonwoo felt restless; Mingyu shouldn’t be going out of his way like this.

"How are you? Is Ottawa nice?" Mingyu asked, his tone warm and curious.

Wonwoo nodded casually. "The lifestyle there fits mine. No difficulty in adapting," he explained simply, and Mingyu nodded in acknowledgment.

There was a pregnant pause before Mingyu asked about your condition. "She's fine, right?"

Wonwoo raised his brows and immediately nodded. "Yes, she's great. She visited her mother yesterday. She said she's going to meet Seungcheol hyung and Nari today."

Mingyu smiled weakly. "How's her treatment? Has she ever shared anything about that?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

Wonwoo sighed. "Why don't you ask her yourself?" he suggested, but Mingyu took a deep breath and shook his head.

"I told you, hyung. I couldn't face her after what I found out," Mingyu explained, referring to the miscarriage you had suffered while married to him. "I miss her, though."

Wonwoo's mind wandered to your confession about knowing Mingyu's feelings for Nari, Seungcheol's wife and Mingyu's first love. How much guilt would Mingyu bear if Wonwoo revealed that fact?

"Trust me, she's doing great. Treatment, life—she's even taking a writing course," Wonwoo informed Mingyu, which lifted a slight smile on Mingyu's lips.

"She always loved writing," Mingyu murmured, his eyes distant as he thought about the past.

Wonwoo watched Mingyu, feeling the weight of unspoken truths between them. He wished he could ease Mingyu's guilt, but he knew that some wounds had to be dealt with in their own time. "She really is doing well," he reassured softly, hoping it would bring Mingyu some peace.

Mingyu nodded, but the sadness in his eyes remained. "Thanks, hyung. It means a lot to hear that from you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Wonwoo watched the younger man, a mix of emotions swirling within him. "You loved her, didn't you?" he asked playfully, trying to lighten the mood.

Mingyu chuckled softly. "Of course, I married her because I loved her."

Wonwoo leaned closer, searching Mingyu's eyes. "Did she know it?" he asked.

Mingyu nodded. "I told her every day. That I loved her."

Wonwoo took a deep breath, his mind replaying your confession about knowing Mingyu's feelings for another woman. His head spun with the complexity of the situation. "She's really like Nari, isn't she?" Mingyu asked, his voice tinged with wistfulness.

Wonwoo could only nod in response, feeling the weight of the comparison. While Mingyu always thought that you resembled Nari, Wonwoo couldn’t see it that way. When he saw Nari in the past, she reminded him of his first love, the girl with the ponytail from high school—who turned out to be you. But when he looked at you, he saw no trace of Nari.

Was Mingyu experiencing the same confusion? Was it right to compare?

Wonwoo couldn't answer that. The lines between past and present, love and memory, were too blurred. He sighed deeply, feeling the burden of secrets and unresolved feelings between them. "It's complicated," he finally said, his voice heavy with meaning.

When you were still married to Mingyu, Wonwoo couldn't shake the jealousy that simmered in his chest at the thought of Mingyu being the one to have you. Your graceful movements, your soft-spoken tone, the beauty that radiated from your face—it all stirred a tumultuous mix of emotions within him.

Wonwoo could only watch you from afar whenever you attended events with Mingyu. His heart broke when he caught sight of the baby bump under Mingyu's hand as he walked you around, introducing you to his friends.

He couldn't explain the depth of his worry when he saw you running around in heels while pregnant during his visit for Seungcheol's wedding preparation. He remembered calling Seungcheol, pleading for him to involve you less, knowing the strain it could put on your health.

"I was surprised to hear you were the one who asked, not Mingyu," Seungcheol had remarked.

Wonwoo chuckled at Seungcheol's words. If only he knew the truth. "Mingyu asked me to ask you. Do you think he would have the guts to ask himself?" Wonwoo had replied, trying to be diplomatic.

If Mingyu weren't his best friend, Wonwoo would have been tempted to confront him when he visited to discuss your rights at your father's company. He had seen the baby items being moved from Mingyu's house, followed by your tearful attempts to stop them. It was then that Mingyu had confessed about your abortion plan.

"So your feelings are the only ones that are valid?" Wonwoo froze when he overheard your conversation with Mingyu that night. He knew he should let Mingyu know he was there, but he couldn't bring himself to interrupt.

"You don't know the kind of sorrow I've been hiding until they turned into anger," he heard you say to Mingyu, your voice rising for the first time.

Feeling like an intruder, Wonwoo discreetly retreated, watching as you stormed out of Mingyu's office. He heard you speak to one of the staff, requesting to have your bed prepared separately from Mingyu's.

As he stood there, grappling with the weight of the emotions he had witnessed, Wonwoo couldn't help but feel a surge of protectiveness towards you. He knew that despite the complexities of your relationship with Mingyu, he would always be there to support you, even if it meant standing silently in the shadows.

Wonwoo sighed heavily, the weight of his unspoken feelings pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. He loved you so much that it hurt him to see you suffer, especially while Mingyu lived his life seemingly unaffected.

"If Seungcheol hyung and Nari suddenly separated, would you marry her?" Wonwoo asked Mingyu, the question seemingly coming out of nowhere.

Mingyu frowned, taken aback by the unexpected inquiry. "Don't talk like that," he warned, but Wonwoo persisted, assuring him it was just a hypothetical scenario.

"If Seungcheol hyung and Nari, for whatever reason, had to separate, would you ask to marry Nari?" Wonwoo pressed again.

After a few moments of contemplation, Mingyu nodded with determination. "I'll marry her," he affirmed.

Wonwoo nodded in acknowledgment, his mind swirling with questions. 'If I marry Y/n, will it be okay?' The thought lingered in his mind, unspoken yet ever-present.

Unable to contain his impulsivity any longer, Wonwoo blurted out, "Can I take care of Y/n?"

Mingyu's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden request. "What do you mean?" he asked, trying to comprehend Wonwoo's intentions.

Wonwoo swallowed nervously, feeling exposed and vulnerable. "I mean... things didn't work out between you and Y/n... I want to be there for her. I want to take care of her," he explained, his voice filled with sincerity and longing.

Mingyu studied him for a moment, sensing the depth of his emotions. "Are you sure about this, hyung?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

Wonwoo nodded, his heart pounding with determination. "I've never been more sure about anything in my life," he confessed.

As the weight of his confession settled between them, Wonwoo braced himself for Mingyu's response, hoping against hope that he would understand and support his decision.

After marrying Mingyu, you never purchased a house or an apartment. So, Wonwoo generously offered you a room in his penthouse while you were staying in Seoul. To ensure your comfort, he even gave his staff time off so you wouldn't feel uneasy about your presence, especially when you were in the kitchen preparing a meal for dinner tonight.

As you were setting the table, the sound of someone stepping into the penthouse caught your attention. Assuming it was Wonwoo, you softly called out, "Dinner's ready," while meticulously arranging the silverware. However, when you looked up, your heart skipped a beat. It wasn't Wonwoo standing there, but his mother.

You froze and almost dropped the pot in your hands. Wonwoo's mother looked as surprised as you. Her eyes widened, and her steps halted as she saw a familiar woman wandering around her son's house.

"You! You're Mingyu's ex-wife, aren't you?" Mrs. Jeon exclaimed, her finger pointing directly at you. The rings on her finger sparkled under the chandelier's light, and her clothes exuded an air of wealth and sophistication. Her presence made you feel small and vulnerable.

"Yes," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You bowed your head respectfully, hoping to convey deference to the older woman.

A tense silence filled the room as you stood there, feeling the weight of her gaze. The memories of your past with Mingyu and the uncertainty of your current situation with Wonwoo surged within you. You could sense Mrs. Jeon's scrutiny, as if she were measuring every aspect of your being.

You watched her face closely, unable to discern whether it was disgust or confusion that twisted her features. Perhaps it was a mix of both.

"What are you doing in my son's house?!" Her voice was loud, startling you. Before you could respond, the sound of the elevator arriving filled the room. Moments later, Wonwoo appeared, breathless as he approached both you and his mother in the kitchen.

"Mother, I told you not to visit," Wonwoo exclaimed, quickly moving to pull his mother away.

She shrugged off his hand and chuckled bitterly. "What is this woman doing in your house? She's your friend's ex-wife."

Her voice faded as Wonwoo forcefully guided her towards the living room, their words growing muffled with distance.

Left alone in the kitchen, you felt a wave of emotions crash over you—embarrassment, confusion, and a tinge of sadness. The warmth of the meal you had prepared seemed to dissipate, replaced by a cold knot of uncertainty in your stomach. You sank into a chair, trying to process what had just happened, wondering if your presence here was more of a burden than a gesture of kindness.

The muffled argument between Wonwoo and his mother continued in the living room, the tension palpable even from the kitchen. After what felt like an eternity, you heard the front door open and then close with a decisive thud. The silence that followed was heavy, almost suffocating.

Wonwoo returned to the kitchen, his expression a mix of frustration and remorse. "I'm so sorry about that," he said, his voice laden with sincerity. "I didn't expect her to show up unannounced."

You looked up at him, trying to muster a reassuring smile despite the turmoil inside you. "It's alright, Wonwoo. You don't have to apologize for your mother."

"But I do," he insisted, taking a seat across from you. "I never wanted you to feel uncomfortable here. This was supposed to be a safe space for you."

You sighed, glancing at the meal you had prepared, now feeling like a symbol of the awkward situation you had inadvertently caused. "I appreciate everything you've done for me, Wonwoo. But I can't help feeling that my presence here is only causing trouble for you."

Wonwoo shook his head, his eyes earnest. "You're not a burden. You've been through a lot, and you deserve a place where you can feel at ease. My mother's reaction was out of line, and I'll make sure she understands that."

You appreciated his words, but doubt still lingered in your mind. "I don't want to come between you and your family. Maybe it’s better if I find somewhere else to stay."

Wonwoo reached across the table, gently placing his hand over yours. "Don't make any decisions based on one uncomfortable encounter. Please, stay. Let me handle my family. You have a place here for as long as you need it."

You looked down at his hand resting on yours, feeling a comforting warmth that you hadn’t felt in a long time. Slowly, you pulled your hand back, your heart heavy with a mix of gratitude and hesitation.

"I appreciate your kindness, Wonwoo," you said softly, avoiding his gaze. "But I'm not ready for this. I've just faced a divorce, and I'm still dealing with my treatment. Everything feels so overwhelming right now."

Wonwoo nodded, understanding flickering in his eyes. "I get it. You’ve been through so much. I just want you to know that you don’t have to go through it alone."

You gave him a small, appreciative smile. "Your presence has been a spark of hope for me, but I need time to heal and to figure things out for myself. I don't want to lean on you too much or become a source of conflict in your life."

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "You’re not a conflict. You’re a friend who needs support, and I'm here to offer it. But I respect your feelings and your need for space."

The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, and it touched you deeply. "Thank you, Wonwoo. For everything. I’ll stay, but I need to take things one day at a time."

He nodded again, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "That's all I ask. We'll take it one day at a time, together."

"Now," Wonwoo said, glancing at the table, "let's not let this dinner go to waste. It smells too good to ignore."

You chuckled softly, feeling a bit more at ease. "Alright, let's eat."

As you both sat down to share the meal, the conversation flowed more naturally, the earlier discomfort slowly fading into the background.

Mingyu’s secretary almost tripped over himself when he saw you walking toward his desk that afternoon. The last time he had seen you was almost half a year ago, when you and Mingyu were officially divorced, and he had assisted with the administration alongside Mingyu's lawyer. You didn’t appear as vibrant as you used to, but he didn’t want to speculate on the reasons. Not that his boss looked any better; he often thought about how you two had seemed so happily married.

"Good afternoon," he began hesitantly, "Ms. Ji."

You smiled faintly and asked if Mingyu was available. Unfortunately, he was in a meeting with the directors that would take another hour to finish. You told him you would wait, and he offered you a drink or snack, which you politely refused. He escorted you to Mingyu's office and left you alone, immediately running to the meeting room to inform his boss that his ex-wife was here.

Mingyu abruptly concluded the meeting upon hearing the news. He stood up and walked quickly to his office, not bothering to knock before stepping in unannounced, startling you.

He observed you in silence for a moment, his expression a mix of surprise and concern. After a deep sigh, he bit his lip, seeing you standing a couple of meters away from him.

"Please, sit," he said, his voice strained.

You chuckled softly, the sound tinged with a hint of nostalgia and sadness. "Don't speak to me as if I'm your client or something," you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Mingyu managed a small smile, though his eyes betrayed the turmoil inside him. "Old habits," he said, gesturing to the chair. "What brings you here?"

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the past months pressing down on you. "I needed to talk to you, Mingyu. There are things we never resolved, and... I need closure."

He nodded, taking a seat across from you, his demeanor shifting to one of earnest attention. "I understand. I've been thinking about our last conversation too."

For a moment, the office seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you and the unspoken words that had lingered since your divorce. You felt a lump in your throat but pushed through, determined to find some semblance of peace.

"I’ve been struggling, Mingyu," you confessed, your voice trembling. "Not just with the divorce, but with my health. I’m still undergoing cancer treatment, and it’s been... difficult."

Mingyu's expression softened, his eyes filling with regret and concern. "I'm so sorry to hear that. I wish I had known sooner."

You shook your head, tears threatening to spill. "It's not your fault. I just... I needed to tell you. To clear the air between us."

He reached out, his hand hovering uncertainly before finally resting on the table between you. "I'm here now. Whatever you need to say, I'm listening."

"I'm refusing my rights to my father's company," you confessed.

"Why? We fought so hard for that," Mingyu said, disbelief evident in his voice. Refusing your rights?

You nodded. "It's complicated. I want to say thank you for everything you did. You fought for me, but I took it for granted by refusing it. So, I'm sorry."

Mingyu was silent, deep in thought, before finally speaking. "There's nothing to apologize for. I believe you have your reasons. But what about your future? Is the divorce allowance enough for living abroad and for your treatment?" His concern was evident as he tried to be realistic.

You sighed. "That's also what I wanted to discuss. I don't think I can take it, Mingyu. It's too much for me, and there's no need to provide for me... We don't have a child together." The last sentence hung heavy in the air, still breaking your heart every time you thought about it.

Mingyu shook his head, unable to believe what he was hearing. "No, you deserve it. It was written in our prenup that I'm going to provide for you until you find someone else."

"I won't stop the allowance," he continued, his voice firm yet considerate. "But if you're overwhelmed by the amount, I'll decrease it."

His consideration touched you deeply. "Thank you, Mingyu. I appreciate your understanding."

"Y/n," Mingyu called your name softly. "I've been thinking about the reason why you insisted on divorcing, even after I wanted to cancel it." He let out his thoughts, gulping as he faced the harsh reality.

He cleared his throat, recalling a conversation he had with Wonwoo the other day. Nari... you... Mingyu couldn't shake the feeling that you knew about his feelings for Nari. It was obvious, Wonwoo had said. But deep in his heart, Mingyu wanted to deny it. He was certain his feelings for you were sincere. However, he couldn’t escape the thought that you would always remind him of Nari, his first love.

"You..." Mingyu hesitated, "you knew about my feelings for Nari, didn't you?" He guessed, but you remained silent.

Mingyu felt a wave of nervousness wash over him. He prayed you had no idea, hoping it would ease his conscience. But then you smiled—a bittersweet smile that told him everything.

"I couldn't act like I didn't know, Mingyu," you finally said.

"I'm sorry, Y/n."

"Don't be..."

"No, I’m so sorry that you had to think our relationship wasn't worth fighting for because I loved someone else."

You smiled bitterly and said, "You always loved her." Your words broke Mingyu's heart.

"You deserve someone better, Y/n," he whispered, his voice filled with regret.

"I know," you replied, your voice steady despite the pain.

For a moment, the air between you was thick with unspoken emotions. Mingyu's regret and your quiet acceptance mingled in the silence. It was a painful truth, but acknowledging it brought a sense of closure.

"Thank you for your honesty," you said softly, breaking the silence. "It hurts, but it's something I needed to hear."

Mingyu nodded, his eyes filled with sadness. "I hope you find happiness, Y/n. Real, genuine happiness."

"And I hope you do too, Mingyu," you replied, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "We both deserve it."

As you turned to leave, there was a sense of finality in the air. This conversation had been long overdue, and while it was painful, it also brought a sense of release. Both of you could now move forward, carrying the lessons of the past but no longer burdened by it.

As you both stood up, there was a moment of shared understanding and mutual respect. It wasn't just about the financial arrangements or the company—it was about acknowledging the past, making amends, and moving forward with as much grace as possible.

Mingyu walked you to the door, his hand lingering on the handle for a moment. "Take care of yourself. And if you ever need anything, you know where to find me."

"I will. Thank you, Mingyu. For everything."

As you left his office, you felt a bittersweet mix of emotions, but also a sense of relief. The conversation had been difficult, but necessary. It was a step towards healing and a chance to look forward to the future with a bit more hope and strength.

You arrived at Wonwoo's place late at night, the streets of Seoul still bustling with life even in the darkness. Throughout the evening, you had roamed the city alone, visiting familiar spots from your past, meeting old colleagues, and reminiscing about the times you spent working with Seungcheol. Wonwoo was still awake when you arrived, sitting alone at the bar and sipping on what looked like wine, patiently waiting for you. You realized your phone had died, leaving him unable to reach you.

"Want to join?" he asked, gesturing to the glass in his hand. You shook your head, reminding him that you were on prescribed medication. "But I'll keep you company," you added, taking a seat beside him and undoing your coat and bag.

"Where have you been today? Seems like quite the journey," he remarked, noticing the bookstore bag you had placed on the counter.

"I met Mingyu," you replied quietly.

Wonwoo nodded in understanding. "How was the meeting?" he inquired, genuine curiosity in his voice.

You hesitated, searching for the right words. "It went well... But I wish I hadn't said anything stupid."

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow. "You? Say something stupid? That doesn't sound like you."

You chuckled at his remark. "I did say something unnecessary. But overall, I'm relieved the meeting went well. We found a closure that we both needed," you explained, recalling Mingyu's heartfelt wish for you.

'I hope you find happiness, Y/n. Real, genuine happiness.'

"That's great, then. I'm proud of you," Wonwoo said sincerely, reaching for a cranberry juice box on the counter and handing it to you. He motioned for you to cheer with him, and you chuckled, following his lead.

As you clinked your juice boxes together, a sense of gratitude washed over you. In Wonwoo's company, you found comfort and understanding, a reminder that even in the midst of uncertainty and closure, there were still moments of warmth and connection to cherish.

"How about you and your family? Is everything settled?" you asked him, genuine concern in your voice.

"It'll take time, I believe. But I'm patient enough to make sure that everything will be fine in the future. My family is important to me, but myself is my priority at the moment. So... I gotta prioritize my wants and my needs," Wonwoo replied, his tone tinged with a hint of resignation.

You smiled softly. "You're doing a good thing. I'm glad that I became your friend, Wonwoo."

"And I'm glad I became your friend too, Y/n," Wonwoo confessed, the alcohol in his system encouraging him to speak his mind. "It's better than lingering on the first love term."

You looked at him, confusion evident in your expression. "What's the first love term? Am I your first love?" you chuckled, not fully understanding his words.

Wonwoo nodded, a vulnerable smile playing on his lips. "Yes."

His admission hung in the air, a moment of raw honesty that caught you off guard. You felt a surge of emotions, a mixture of surprise, disbelief, and a hint of warmth at the thought that you had held such a significant place in Wonwoo's heart.

"I... I didn't know," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

You met his gaze, seeing the sincerity and affection in his eyes. In that moment, the barriers between you seemed to melt away, leaving only the shared connection and understanding that had grown between you over time.

"When we were at the foster home, director Kim showed us your old stuff, right?" Wonwoo began, his voice soft with reminiscence. "There was a photo when my family visited for the first time, and I remembered having a bad day. But there was this little girl who came to me and asked what was going on. I ended up sharing my day with her—failing tests, parents nagging at me, getting bruised after falling from my bike. And she said she wished I could be happier that day."

You listened intently, feeling a sense of familiarity creeping in as Wonwoo's story unfolded.

"And the girl I met was you," Wonwoo continued, his smile warm yet tinged with sadness. "We met again on my last year at JIS Senior High School."

"You had just entered high school, and I was planning on studying at State. I had no chance to talk to you, but we met again at the foster home for volunteering. Do you remember?"

Your heart skipped a beat as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, realizing the significance of those chance encounters.

"Is that why you asked about my high school photo back at my house?" you asked him, the revelation sinking in.

Wonwoo nodded, his gaze earnest. "Even after Seungcheol hyung introduced you, I still liked you. If loving my best friend's wife is a sin, then I must be a sinner for a long time. But... I love you, Y/n... What should I do?"

His confession hung in the air, heavy with emotion and uncertainty. You felt a whirlwind of emotions—surprise, confusion, and a hint of warmth at the realization of Wonwoo's feelings.

Taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you reached out and gently placed a hand on his. "Wonwoo, I... I don't know what to say."

He looked at you with pleading eyes, his vulnerability laid bare. "I understand if you can't reciprocate my feelings. I just needed to tell you the truth."

You met his gaze, feeling a surge of compassion and understanding. "Thank you for being honest with me, Wonwoo. Give me some time to process everything."

Wonwoo nodded, a flicker of hope in his eyes. "Of course. Take all the time you need."

As you sat together in silence, the weight of Wonwoo's confession lingered, but so did a sense of possibility—a chance for both of you to navigate the complexities of love and friendship with honesty and care.

Wonwoo was visibly stressed as he tried to get Sora to sit still and eat her lunch. You had stepped away for a brief break with Minseo just two hours ago, leaving Wonwoo to handle the lunchtime routine on his own. However, Sora, their spirited four-year-old daughter, seemed more interested in playing with the toy house Wonwoo had bought for her the night before than in eating her meal.

Four years ago, after you had completed your treatment, you and Wonwoo had made the decision to start dating and settle down together. It had been a tumultuous journey, marked by highs and lows, but through it all, you had remained steadfast in your commitment to each other. When the time came to expand your family, you both knew adoption was the right path for you. Wonwoo had eagerly embraced the role of husband and father, supporting you every step of the way.

Sora had come into your lives when she was just six months old, a bright light in the midst of uncertainty. As she approached her second birthday, you and Wonwoo had faced numerous challenges as parents, but your love for each other had only grown stronger. As a mother, you had made it your mission to give Sora the love and care you had longed for as a child, and in doing so, you had helped to heal Wonwoo's own inner child.

Watching Wonwoo spend time with Sora—playing, talking, tucking her into bed—had always brought tears of joy to your eyes. His unwavering love and devotion to both you and Sora had filled your heart with gratitude and pride. And whenever you found yourself overcome with emotion, Wonwoo was always there to wipe away your tears, his presence a constant source of comfort and reassurance.

On Sora's fourth birthday, she surprised you and Wonwoo by asking for a sibling, a request you hadn't anticipated. While you and Wonwoo had discussed the possibility of expanding your family, his response was unexpectedly cautious. He expressed contentment with just you and Sora, masking his deeper desires. You knew he longed for a child of his own, one with your eyes and smile, but he was too considerate to voice his true feelings.

Deep down, you shared his yearning for another child, but the prospect of pregnancy brought with it a sense of unease. The doctor had warned you of the risks, hinting at potential complications that made Wonwoo worry for your health.

Five months ago, your fears were realized when you collapsed while waiting to pick up Sora from daycare. It was a terrifying moment for Wonwoo, his concern palpable as he hovered over you in the hospital. Despite your reassurances, he couldn't shake the fear that something was seriously wrong.

Then came the unexpected news—the doctor's confirmation that you were eight weeks pregnant. It was a moment of shock and disbelief, followed by overwhelming joy and relief. Wonwoo's face lit up with a mixture of emotions, his worries momentarily forgotten in the excitement of impending parenthood once again.

As you and Wonwoo sat in the hospital room, the news of your pregnancy still sinking in, a whirlwind of emotions washed over both of you. Wonwoo's initial joy was quickly overshadowed by worry and uncertainty, his brow furrowing with concern as he looked at you.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with anxiety.

You nodded, trying to muster a reassuring smile despite the lingering fear in your heart. "I'm okay, Wonwoo. Really."

But Wonwoo wasn't convinced. "But what about the risks the doctor mentioned? What if something goes wrong?"

His questions echoed your own fears, the uncertainty of the future looming large in your minds. Yet, amidst the worry, there was also a sense of certainty—a belief that together, you could weather any storm that came your way.

"We'll take it one step at a time," you said, reaching out to take his hand in yours. "We'll face whatever comes our way together, as a team."

Wonwoo looked at you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of fear and determination. "I just want you and the baby to be safe," he said softly.

"I know, Wonwoo. And we will be," you reassured him, squeezing his hand gently. "We'll make sure to take all the necessary precautions, and we'll lean on each other for support every step of the way."

As the weight of the news settled upon you both, you found strength in each other's presence, a reminder that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you were in this together. And as you sat there, hand in hand, a sense of peace washed over you, knowing that with Wonwoo by your side, you could face anything that the future held.

As the news of the pregnancy settled in, Sora's reaction was nothing short of ecstatic. The thought of having a sibling filled her with joy, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she listened intently to her mother's words about the new addition to the family. With each passing day, she seemed to hang onto your every word, eager to learn all about what it meant to be a big sister.

However, as much as Sora embraced the idea of becoming a sister, her attitude toward Wonwoo didn't quite resonate with the same enthusiasm. Despite his attempts to share in her excitement and involve himself in her daily activities, she seemed to distance herself from him, preferring instead to cling to you, her soon-to-be mother of two.

Wonwoo couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment at Sora's behavior. He had dreamed of sharing this special moment with his daughter, of watching her excitement grow as she prepared to welcome her new sibling into the world. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to break through the barrier that had formed between them.

"Sora, let's eat your lunch. You need a lot of energy to take care of your little brother later," Wonwoo said, trying to coax his daughter into eating as he sat beside her.

"Sora," he called her again, his tone serious. For a brief moment, she paused, her fingers hesitating before she continued to ignore him.

Feeling stressed and unable to watch his daughter starve herself, Wonwoo reached out to you for help. You immediately rushed home with her favorite food, and he watched with relief as she eagerly savored every bite.

"I'll talk to her about this," you reassured him, your words a balm to his worried heart.

The next day, after a long and busy day, Wonwoo finally returned home to you and Sora. As you greeted him, he couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at the sight of your growing belly, a visible sign of the new life you were both eagerly anticipating.

After changing into more comfortable clothes, Wonwoo settled in beside you and Sora, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him. When you asked Sora to show him her drawing from school, he eagerly accepted, a smile playing on his lips as he admired her artwork.

But as he examined the drawing more closely, a sense of confusion washed over him. It was a drawing of him and Sora, but you were conspicuously absent. Aren't you her favorite? The question lingered in his mind, casting a shadow over what should have been a joyful moment.

As he struggled to make sense of his daughter's actions, Wonwoo couldn't help but wonder what had caused this sudden change in her behavior toward him. And as he looked to you for answers, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach.

"Sora, tell dad what you told me earlier on our way home," you whispered to your daughter as she approached you affectionately.

Sora shook her head vehemently, her little hands clinging to you as she refused to meet her father's gaze.

"You tell dad," she mumbled, her pout adorable even in her sadness.

You smiled at her innocence before turning to Wonwoo, who looked on with curiosity. "She's sad," you began, your voice gentle.

Wonwoo's attention sharpened as he listened intently, his heart already bracing for what was to come.

"She's sad because she thinks you might love her brother more since he's going to be your child," you explained, your words heavy with emotion.

The weight of your revelation hit Wonwoo like a ton of bricks, shattering his heart into a million pieces. How could his precious daughter ever think such a thing? What had she heard or observed that led her to believe that her father's love could be divided?

As he looked at Sora, his heart ached with guilt and regret. He had never meant to make her feel this way, to doubt the depth of his love for her. And yet, here she was, bearing the burden of her own insecurities at such a tender age.

As both you and Wonwoo opened up to Sora about her adoption, you wanted her to understand that love could transcend blood ties. You emphasized that family was about the love and bond shared, not just biological connections. Sora seemed to grasp this concept well, embracing the idea that love could be varied and strong, extending to both her adoptive and biological family members alike.

However, despite her understanding, Sora couldn't shake the nagging doubt that had been planted in her mind by her friend's mother. The idea that the baby inside her mom would be her father's "real" child troubled her deeply. Was she not "real" enough for her dad? Without realizing it, she began to distance herself from Wonwoo, fearing that his love for her would diminish once her brother was born.

Seeing the pain in his daughter's eyes, Wonwoo approached Sora with a heavy heart. "Baby, I'm sorry that you had to feel that way," he whispered, his voice filled with regret.

"You know that I love you and your brother equally. We talked about this," he added, his words a gentle reminder of the conversations they had shared about love and family.

The touch on Sora's back prompted her to voice her deepest fears. "But people said I'm not your real child," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

You exchanged a tearful glance with Wonwoo, both of you sharing the same pain and frustration at the hurtful words that had wounded your daughter's heart.

"No, baby. That's wrong," Wonwoo said firmly, his voice trembling with emotion. "You're my daughter, and you will always be my daughter."

With a gentle tug, Wonwoo pulled Sora close to him, his arms wrapping around her trembling form as tears streamed down her chubby cheeks. Sora buried her face in her father's chest, seeking solace in his comforting embrace.

"You'll always be my oldest daughter, baby," Wonwoo whispered, his voice filled with love and reassurance. "You're my first child, and nothing will ever change that."

Desperate for reassurance, Sora looked up at her father with tear-filled eyes. "Promise me that you'll never treat me differently?" she pleaded.

Wonwoo's heart ached at his daughter's plea, and without hesitation, he vowed, "You know that I would never do that, even without a promise."

In that moment, as father and daughter held each other close, the bond between them grew stronger than ever. And as you looked on, tears of gratitude and love filled your eyes, grateful for the unwavering love and support that surrounded your family.

As the day of the delivery approached, tension hung heavy in the air, a palpable mix of excitement and apprehension swirling around you and Wonwoo. Despite the joyous anticipation of welcoming their son into the world, there was an underlying sense of worry that gnawed at Wonwoo's heart.

With each passing hour, his anxiety grew, his mind plagued by fears of the unknown. He paced the hospital corridors, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallways as he anxiously awaited news of your condition.

Hours stretched into eternity as the labor progressed, each moment feeling like an eternity as Wonwoo's worry deepened. He felt helpless, unable to do anything but wait and pray for a safe delivery.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the moment arrived. The sound of a newborn's cry filled the air, and Wonwoo's heart leaped with joy and relief as he caught sight of his son for the first time.

But his relief was short-lived as he watched the medical team spring into action, their urgent movements betraying the gravity of the situation. You were in unstable condition, and the room was filled with an air of urgency as the medical team worked tirelessly to stabilize you.

In those agonizing moments, Wonwoo felt his heart constrict with fear, his mind racing with a thousand worries. But as he stood by your side, holding your hand tightly, he found strength in your unwavering resilience.

With your delivery behind you, Wonwoo's focus shifted entirely to your recovery. He hovered anxiously by your bedside, his eyes never leaving your face as he waited for any sign of improvement.

Days blurred into nights as Wonwoo remained steadfast by your side, his presence a constant source of comfort and support. He held your hand gently, offering words of encouragement and reassurance as you fought to regain your strength.

Each small improvement filled Wonwoo's heart with hope, a glimmer of light in the darkness of uncertainty. He celebrated every milestone, no matter how small, knowing that each step forward brought you closer to full recovery.

But as the days stretched on, Wonwoo's patience wore thin, his worry mounting with each passing moment. He longed to see you healthy and strong, to hold you in his arms once again without the specter of illness looming over you.

After what felt like an eternity of uncertainty, your recovery from the delivery was a slow but steady journey. Each day brought small victories, from sitting up in bed to taking a few steps around the room with Wonwoo's supportive arm around you.

Wonwoo remained by your side throughout it all, his unwavering presence a source of strength and comfort. He tended to your every need with care and devotion, never once faltering in his commitment to your well-being.

As the days passed, your strength returned, and with it, a renewed sense of hope and gratitude. You marveled at the resilience of your body and the love that surrounded you, knowing that you had weathered the storm together with Wonwoo by your side.

And when the day finally came for you to leave the hospital and return home, it felt like a triumph. With Wonwoo's hand firmly clasped in yours, you stepped out into the world, ready to embrace the new chapter of parenthood with gratitude and joy. And as you looked ahead to the future, you knew that with Wonwoo by your side, there was nothing you couldn't overcome.

"Are you happy?"

"Like always, i'm happy."

Then, it's the end.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #densworld🌼#seventeen scenarios #seventeen series #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagine #mingyu imagines #wonwoo imagines #seventeen wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo angst #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fanfic

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hl-obsessed · 2 days

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my first fic rec ever! faves from the faves: ✨ and fics i would die for: 💎✨

Have I forgotten how to love; remind me once again by Harrystylesisgod24

(M, 108k) After a serious accident, Harry suffers from a case of retrograde amnesia where he hasn't only forgotten the fact that he is a part of the world-famous band, One Direction, but his fiancé, Louis Tomlinson, as well. Despite being immensely grateful for Harry being alive, Niall, Liam, Zayn, and especially Louis, struggle with accepting that Harry might never remember the many things they experienced together; hell, even their friendship is forgotten. And Louis can't quite push away the crippling fear of Harry not remembering that he loves Louis with all he got. Not that any of that is going to stop Louis from reminding him over and over again.

There You Are by lovelarry10

(E, 82k) Harry’s entire life has fallen apart - in one night, his carefully planned future is suddenly uncertain.

Then he meets Louis.

where the tide takes you, i will follow by @pinkcords

(E, 54k) There’s no way around his departure, their inevitable fate. Harry will leave and he will return to London and when he sits in his new flat, wherever it might be, he will think of this summer and the warmth the sun brought him and the way it felt to be loved. He will compare all his future relationships to Louis and when they fall short, he will be disappointed. Harry knows this.

Or, Louis lives in Gloucester and Harry tries to find a way to stay.

waiting for the tides to meet by @nauticalleeds

(E, 60k) Louis lets out a deep breath, thinking about Harry’s soulmate. Thinking about how Harry’s soulmate is probably as beautiful as Harry, some person that Louis cannot compare to, and how the universe has chosen them to be Harry’s. Fuck the universe. “Fuck you,” he calls out to the universe. He’s aware of how crazy he sounds.

Maybe he is crazy, with how he’s falling for Harry. And fuck that, too.

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly.

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somewhere in between lightning by @nauticalleeds, @shiningdistraction, jassy117

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💎✨ Take My Breath Away by @realitybetterthanfiction

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technicolor by @creamcoffeelou

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The slow-burn, hate-to-love, crime au where Harry is a psychic, Louis is a detective, and the world is against them.

This Wicked Game by @cherrystreet

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Twenty-eight-year-old Alpha Louis Tomlinson aims to change that.

Let Our Hearts Collide by @crinkle-eyed-boo

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A While You Were Sleeping AU

💎✨ Love After the End of the World by @mercurial-madhouse

(E, 162k) “Wait. Just so I’m clear in me fucking noggin,” Niall says. “An international worldwide takeover is well under way and the only thing standing between having hot showers and a second end of the world is us five fuckers?”

***

Society shattered when all electricity suddenly cut off across the globe, plunging the world into darkness. Now, Prometheus Industries is the sole remaining supply of power, a saving grace to those who survived Lights Out. As fugitives in no-man’s land struggling to break into Prometheus HQ, death lurks around every corner for Louis and Zayn. Things get complicated when a routine recon falls apart and Louis collides with Harry and his mates Niall and Liam, survivors with their own agenda.

When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong.

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Gemma's Dad (Could Use A Guy Like Me) by @lululawrence

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Of course, Louis wasn't planning on getting home and learning that Gemma's dad had gotten the house in the divorce and was dealing with things by focusing on work, the house, and his newly planted garden. It becomes obvious early on that Harry is a bit lost and Gemma is worried about him. To help both of them, Louis is more than happy to help Harry find himself again.

As the summer goes on, the adventures and day to day happenings allow Harry and Louis to spend a lot more time together than either of them ever anticipated and Louis finds it more difficult to keep his growing feelings in check than he ever thought it would be. After all, there wasn't a chance that Harry would ever be interested in Louis... right?

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(TNU, 133k) "I’ve never told anyone," Harry murmurs, voice so soft no one else would be able to hear, if it wasn’t just the two of them.

“But you’ve told someone,” Louis says firmly. “And that’s not gonna fucking happen around here. You don’t speak a word of it, or someone’s going to kill you, and we can’t let that happen.”

a dystopian au in which harry, an ex-soldier who’s escaped from his government run camp, accidentally stumbles across the biggest rebel movement in the country, and louis, one of the rebellion’s mysterious leaders who appears to hate him, seems to simultaneously have an obsession with keeping him alive. or: harry is wanted for treason, niall hasn’t changed in four years, liam is always smiling, and louis is angry. like, really angry.

another dream but always you by @nobodymoves

(M, 66k) Harry is a Dreamwalker; he has the ability to visit people in their dreams and help put them on the right path. He's assigned to Louis, who's struggling after the break-up of his band. It's an unusual assignment from the beginning; Harry has a crush on Louis, and Louis's subconscious immediately decides Harry is the love of his life. When Dreamers cast Harry as their love interest, he can usually redirect them, but Louis is insistent on being Harry's boyfriend, and despite knowing they have no future, Harry wants to keep up the charade.

Shake Me Down by @agreatperhaps12

(NR, 208k) Harry's new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.

Nameless Night by green_feelings

(E, 155k) For their 18th birthday, every person receives a letter that reads a simple date. That is the date you'll meet your soulmate.

Harry and Louis have different beliefs, live in different worlds and have different dreams, hopes and fears. Yet, they're not so different from each other when it comes to love. When their paths cross, there is no doubt they belong together. Except for that one, essential difference: they didn't receive the same date.

Or, a fic about differences that make no difference at all: Harry and Louis are soulmates. In every way possible. Featuring Niall as a role model, and Liam and Zayn as a different kind of role models.

Light, Spark and Fire (series) by green_feelings

(M, 239k) Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

Jump Before We Fall by green_feelings

(E, 114k) Louis and Zayn's lives revolve around running a hotel by the sea, Harry is a student who wants a life far from home for just a little while, Niall doesn't know where life leads him and Liam thinks he has already found all purposes in his life.

✨💎 my heart is breathing for this moment in time by usedtothebeach

(E, 160k) When Louis first saw Harry at the 2010 X Factor Auditions, he thought he was watching a peculiarly special stranger. But Harry has known Louis ever since he was five years old.

Because Louis has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to Time Travel to important moments in his past and in his future - and to Harry, always to Harry. When they're put into a band together, it seems like everything Harry has been waiting and wishing for has finally come true. Except for the small fact that Louis doesn't know that Harry is in love with him- that Harry's always been in love with him. Fate, it would seem, is just getting started.

A story about growing up and growing together, and the impossible love that makes it all worthwhile.

✨ you were in my dream by @harruandlou

(E, 59k) Louis woke up after having a sexy dream about his best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend resolved to never think about it again. He hardly knew Harry, so what difference would it make? But when they are thrown together only a few days later, Louis had to admit, his subconscious might have been onto something.

Desperation Was My Sanctuary by @insightfulinsomniac

(E, 102k) As a PhD student and transplant to New York City, Louis is struggling for both money and companionship. His roommate, Zayn, introduces him to a friend who is involved in New York City's sugar bowl. Reluctantly, he signs up for a sugaring app knowing he’s probably the least conventional sugar baby on the market. If he can find a sugar daddy who will pay his bills without asking him to sacrifice his own preferences and boundaries, he might just be willing to earn a bit of extra cash by faking a relationship with a millionaire.

At the age of 35, Harry’s spent his entire adult life devoted to his career as a fashion designer. With his label, Eroda, steady and flourishing, he finally has time to settle down. When he reflects on his adult life, he realizes that he’s never been in a relationship and therefore feels behind. Shy and insecure in his inexperience, he turns to a sugaring app to manufacture a “test relationship” on his terms.

Turns out, they’re both looking for something unconventional.

A smutty, non-traditional strangers-to-lovers story about finding yourself, friendship, safety, sexual discovery, and an unexpected collision with tender, profound love.

Of Mates and Men by bananaheathen

(E, 630k) In which, Louis and Harry meet as best men for their best friends' wedding... well... sort of.

Or, the one where Harry's just moved back from New York and Louis doesn't believe in romance.

Or, I guess... the one where Zayn and Liam are getting married.

✨ Next to your Heartbeat (where I should be) by jaded25

(M, 130k) "We were meant to be but a twist of fate made it so we had to walk away"

All it takes for them to fall in love is one night. All they have to do is wait one year to see each other again.

Yet, when Louis returns after his year abroad, the boy who's got his arms wrapped around Harry isn't him. It isn't a stranger either, which should make walking away all that easier. After all, friend's don't lust after their mate's boyfriends.

Technically, doing the right thing should be easy - but when has Louis ever been known to taking the easy way out?

✨ For As Long As I Can Remember (It's Been December) by green_feelings

(E, 128k) After recovering from a severe accident that causes Harry to lose his memory of three years, he moves to London to start his life over as a star chef. Little does he know that when he falls in love with Louis at first sight, it’s not the first time they meet.

Featuring an unintentional game of hot and cold, Harry chasing memories that won’t come back, Louis burying himself in work to try and forget what he can’t forget, Liam being torn between two of his best friends, Zayn as a moral compass and Niall saving the day with good music and brutal honesty.

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skywalker1dream · 3 days

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Title: The uncertain future

note: im sorry if i hurt anyone.... believe i cried while writing this too.... i wanted happy ending but.....yea..dont hate me pleas.

Summary: As the sister of Lewis Hamilton, you watched the friendship between him and Nico Rosberg flourish and then crumble. Your heart, however, has always belonged to Nico. Now, with old wounds reopened and hidden feelings exposed, you find yourself torn between the love of your life and the brother you adore. In this tragic love story, you must make a heart-wrenching decision that will change everything.

Warnings: Angst, emotional conflict, family tension, panic attack

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

The sound of engines roaring in the distance was a constant reminder of the world you lived in. The world where your brother, Lewis Hamilton, was a star, and where your heart had silently but steadfastly clung to Nico Rosberg.

You were standing at the edge of the paddock, watching as Lewis and Nico avoided each other, the tension between them palpable. It had been years since their friendship had broken down, and yet the pain was still fresh. You could see it in Lewis’s eyes whenever Nico’s name was mentioned, and you could feel it in the pit of your stomach whenever you saw Nico.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The three of you had grown up together, sharing dreams and ambitions. But as Lewis and Nico’s rivalry intensified, so did the cracks in their friendship. You were caught in the middle, torn between the love for your brother and the hidden feelings you harbored for Nico.

Nico spotted you and walked over, his eyes softening as they met yours. “Hey, can we talk?” he asked quietly, his voice a blend of hope and hesitation.

You nodded, your heart pounding. “Sure, let’s go somewhere private.”

The two of you found a quiet corner away from the prying eyes of the media and the team. Nico took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t keep this to myself anymore. I know it’s complicated with Lewis and everything, but… I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Nico, I… I’ve felt the same way. But Lewis… he’ll never accept it.”

Nico reached out, taking your hands in his. “I know it’s not fair to ask you to choose, but I can’t pretend anymore. I need to know if there’s a chance for us, despite everything.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked into his. “I want to be with you, Nico. But I don’t want to hurt Lewis. He’s my brother, and he’s already lost so much.”

“Then what do we do?” Nico’s voice was barely a whisper, his eyes searching yours for an answer.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I don’t know how.....how to choose between you two.”

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

The next few days were a blur of races, press conferences, and strained conversations. You avoided Lewis, knowing that your face would betray the turmoil inside you. But you couldn’t avoid him forever.

One evening, Lewis cornered you in your hotel room, his expression a mixture of confusion and hurt. “What’s going on with you and Nico?” he demanded, his voice tight with emotion.

You sighed, feeling the weight of the secret you had been carrying. “Lewis, I didn’t want to tell you because I knew it would hurt you. But… I’m in love with him. I have been for a long time.”

Lewis’s eyes widened, and he took a step back, as if physically struck by your words. “You’re in love with Nico? After everything he’s done?”

“It’s not that simple,” you pleaded, tears streaming down your face. “I love him, but I love you too. I don’t want to lose either of you.”

Lewis shook his head, his expression hardening. “You have to choose, [your name]. You can’t have both. If you’re with him, you’re betraying me.”

Your heart shattered at his words, the decision you had been dreading now laid bare before you. “Lewis, please don’t make me do this.”

“I’m sorry, but you have to,” he insisted, his voice cold and final. “It’s him or me.”

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

That night, you met Nico in the hotel lobby, your heart heavy with the decision you had made. He looked at you, hope and fear mingling in his eyes. “What did he say?”

You took a deep breath, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “He said I have to choose. And I.....I choose him, Nico. I’m..... I’m so sorry.”

Nico’s face crumpled, and he pulled you into a tight embrace. “I understand. I always knew it might come to this. I just… I wish things were different.”

You clung to him, the tears flowing freely now. “So do I. More than anything.”

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

The days that followed were a blur of pain and heartache. You watched as Nico moved on, his eyes losing some of their spark. Lewis, too, seemed more distant, a part of him closed off forever.

You had made your choice, but the cost was more than you could bear. In choosing your brother, you had lost the love of your life. And in losing Nico, you had lost a part of yourself.

As you stood alone at the edge of the paddock, the roar of the engines a distant echo, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had made the right choice. But some choices, once made, can never be undone.

One particularly grueling day, the weight of your decision bore down on you more heavily than usual. Every interaction felt hollow, every laugh forced. You felt like a ghost of yourself, drifting through life without purpose. The pressure built until you could no longer hold it back.

You were in the paddock, surrounded by the familiar noise and chaos of race day, when the panic attack hit. Your chest tightened, and it felt like you couldn’t breathe. The world spun around you, and your vision blurred. You stumbled, clutching at your chest as you tried to draw in a breath, but it felt like your lungs were being squeezed by an iron fist.

Lewis was the first to notice. He rushed to your side, his face etched with worry. “[your name], what’s wrong? Talk to me!”

You couldn’t speak. All you could do was shake your head, tears streaming down your face as you fought for air. Lewis wrapped his arms around you, his voice a soothing murmur in your ear. “It’s okay. Just breathe. I’m here.”

Gradually, the world came back into focus, and you managed to draw in a shaky breath. But the relief was short-lived. The emotional dam broke, and you snapped.

“This is all your fault!” you screamed, pushing Lewis away. “You....you made me choose! You made me give up the love of my life!”

Lewis’s face fell, hurt and confusion mixing in his eyes. “[ your name], I didn’t want to hurt you. I thought I was protecting you.”

“Protecting me?” you spat, the anger boiling over. “You tore my heart in two! You made me choose between you and Nico, and now I’m broken. I can’t....I can’t live like this anymore, Lewis. I can’t live without him.”

Lewis’s expression crumpled, and he reached out to you, but you stepped back. “I need to fix this. I need to be with Nico.”

Before he could respond, you turned and fled, your heart pounding as you made your way to Nico’s home. Every step felt like a race against time, a desperate bid to reclaim the happiness you had lost.

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

When you arrived at Nico’s door, you hesitated, your hand hovering over the doorbell. What if it was too late? What if he had moved on, leaving you behind in the wreckage of your choices?

But you had to try. Taking a deep breath, you rang the bell.

After a few moments, the door opened. But it wasn’t Nico who stood before you. It was a woman, her expression one of polite curiosity. “Can I help you?”

Your heart plummeted. “I… I’m looking for Nico. Is he here?”

The woman hesitated, glancing over her shoulder before looking back at you. “He’s not here right now. Can I tell him who’s asking?”

You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears. “Just… tell him [your name] stopped by.”

She nodded, offering a sympathetic smile. “I’ll let him know.”

As the door closed, you stood there, feeling the weight of the world crashing down on you. It was too late. Nico had moved on, and you were left standing on the doorstep of what could have been.

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

The drive back was a blur. You felt numb, the pain of your decision and the realization of its consequences settling like a leaden weight in your chest. When you arrived at your hotel, Lewis was waiting for you, his expression a mixture of concern and guilt.

“Did you find him?” he asked quietly.

You shook your head, unable to meet his eyes. “He’s not there. He’s with someone else now.”

Lewis stepped closer, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, darling. I never wanted to hurt you.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you finally looked at him. “But you did, Lewis. And now I’ve lost everything...”

He pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly as you sobbed into his chest. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”

But as you clung to him, the void inside you remained. The love you had lost, the life you had given up, all of it weighed heavily on your heart.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #fanfic #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #sir lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #nico rosberg x reader #nico rosberg x you #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fanfic #brocedes #brocedes fic

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lovenonymously · 2 days

Text

the importance of well-written stories

watching Lovely Runner was like watching 4 K-dramas at once lol

well-written stories are so rare, you only understand that when you watch something exceptional. something unique. a once in a lifetime experience of watching it for the very first time.

this show gave me so many feelings. in truth, it was an experience. I'm glad I put aside my fear of sad endings and watched as it aired. for once, I took the leap and discovered that's exactly what this drama wanted me to learn.

usually, after finishing really good K-dramas or stories in general, I hit a slump where I cannot function. everything feels dull and boring. a different kind of grief at realising this was just fictional.

but not this time.

all I feel is light and happy. like I'm floating. I want to carry this feeling and runaway. I want to remember how this felt and hold onto it when I get down or get bad days.

lifetimes lived.

Sol was sunlight. bright and unwavering and unforgettable. 💛

living vicariously through Im Sol, from feeling her pain in the beginning to her sunny hope that Sun Jae gave her. all her struggles as she jumped through various lifetimes, loved and lived and loved again. crying with her, laughing with her, rooting for her despite all odds. it was a journey.

beyond her love for Sun Jae, Sol's choices changed her family's life too. they were less hurt and much happier in the future she helped them create. even giving her grandmother a chance to return to the past and relive her fondest memories.

Sun Jae was midnight rain. the comfort of a sudden shower in the middle of summer. 💙

apart from being a complete loser in love, Sun Jae was in love with Sol for a total accumulated time of 45 years.

yep. my reaction exactly ^

I won't lie, when they pulled the "he fell first" trope in Episode 2, I was wary. one, because if the writers were willing to pull such a twist in just the second episode, then who knew what else was in store for us? my guess was pretty spot on, the twists that followed had me gasping and yelling out loud. this show was unpredictable from beginning to end.

and two, because I was worried that Sun Jae's character might get reduced to just him being in love with Im Sol.

in that case, I'm glad to say,

I was completely wrong.

despite Sun Jae's love for Im Sol, he had a grounded personality of his own. whether it was OG Sun Jae (ep 1), who lived in the guilt of what happened to the girl he loved, or Timeline 3 Sun Jae (ep 15), who never fell in love at all, he was positive, kind, decisive and striving to live.

and i love that about him.

for two characters whose stories are so deeply interwoven together, having shaped aspects of each other's lives, Sol and Sun Jae displayed their unique traits exceptionally well as individuals.

I cannot emphasize how happy this makes me. Sun Jae is his own person, Sol is her own person, and they are destined to be together. beyond their desperation for each other's safety and well-being, Sol and Sun Jae are genuinely good people who deserved to be together. even fate and time bent to their will to make it happen.

"As you wait for the rain to stop, live another day."

when a story makes you feel happy, hold onto that feeling. bottle it up. write it down. come back to it on the days the world feels against you and when the times feel too bleak.

fictional though it is, for what it's worth, at least the story exists. it means there are still people out there writing and bringing such stories to life. it means artists and creators like you and I haven't yet forgotten what it's supposed to be like to live. it means there are still people who connect to such stories and learn good things from it.

and as you wait for more such great stories, live another day. perhaps, if you get bored, write the story you want to read.

in the end, it's quite simple.

as for me, I'll be here. crying, laughing, screaming, giggling and kicking my feet while being up to my eyes in second-hand embarrassment (because goodness, these two idiots are COMPLETE LOSERS IN LOVE) throughout these past 8 weeks was the highlight of my year ✨ I will always remember that I watched a beautiful modern fairytale romance in the summer of '24 that reminded me that I was young and full of love to give.

good stories truly do make a difference 🤍

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delulustateofmind · 3 days

Text

Potions & Shadows (Part III)

Summary: An old neighbor of Feyre's is revealed to be not who they seemed when Feyre was a child. Leading to Feyre needing the once-village apothecaries' help. Inspired by Frieren: Beyond Journey's End.

A/n: I LITERALLY could not stop writing this part. No joke, all I could think about at the gym was writing this. I seriously love Nesta and her character in the series and have always wanted to write about her. I hope you all enjoy!

part one, part two, part three, part IV

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: Mentions of loss, more trauma dumping, healing!

Taglist: @cherry-cin, @sassybluebird, @aehllitas-blog

The House of Wind loomed before you, an imposing structure carved into the mountain, exuding an air of ancient power and mystery. The stone walls were cold and unyielding, reminiscent of the dungeons you had once frequented, but there was a certain warmth to the wooden accents that softened the overall austere appearance. Tall ceilings stretched above you, adorned with faelights that cast a gentle, magical glow throughout the vast space.

As Azriel guided you through the grand doorway, you could feel his presence behind you, a silent but reassuring shadow. The house was immense, its scale almost overwhelming. Natural light poured in through the large, curved windows, illuminating the interior with a serene, ethereal brightness. Outside, you could hear the ever-present rustling of the wind, a constant whisper that seemed to caress the edges of your awareness without ever breaching the sanctuary within.

As you moved further into the house, you couldn't help but marvel at the blend of the natural and the mystical, the way the architecture seamlessly integrated with the mountain, creating a haven that was both formidable and welcoming.

Feyre was the first to greet you, her arms wrapping around you in a warm hug as soon as you stepped inside. "I’m sorry I haven’t had time to visit since you arrived. Things have just been so busy with preparations and such," she said, offering you a small, apologetic smile. Feyre seemed to embody the essence of the fae effortlessly, her dress shimmering like it was woven from starlight, enhancing her natural grace and beauty.

Before you could respond, you saw Nesta making her way down the hallway towards you. Unlike Feyre, Nesta was the Archeron sister you were closest to. She had often sought your company, and you had come to appreciate her fierce spirit and unyielding strength. As she approached, it was evident that fae life suited her even more profoundly than it did Feyre. Nesta had always carried a regal presence, and now it was even more pronounced.

However, as she drew nearer, you couldn't help but notice the stark changes in her appearance. Dark circles framed her eyes, and her cheeks were hollow, hinting at self-neglect or something more troubling. The once bright and lively child you remembered now had a cold fire in her eyes, a guardedness that spoke of hidden pain and secrets. She resembled a drake, fiercely protecting something deep within.

A pang of guilt struck you. If only your wards had been stronger, perhaps the tragedies that had befallen them could have been prevented. The weight of those thoughts settled heavily on your shoulders as Nesta reached you. She gave you a nod, her expression guarded, but there was a flicker of recognition and relief in her eyes at seeing a familiar face.

"You're here," Nesta said simply, her voice lacking the warmth it once held but carrying a strength that hadn't wavered.

"Yes, I suppose I am,” you replied softly, searching her face for any sign of the sister you once knew so well. "It's good to see you, Nesta."

The three of you stood there, an unspoken understanding passing between you. Feyre, with her gentle grace; Nesta, with her steely resolve; and you, caught between the memories of the past and the uncertain future. Azriel’s presence at your back was a steadying force, a reminder that you weren’t alone, that you were being watched.

Nesta finally spoke again, lifting her chin as she peered down at you. "So you’re not fully human. Your stories were true," she whispered, her voice tinged with disbelief. As children, she and her sisters had listened to your tales, thinking them nothing more than fairy tales. Now, faced with the truth, the reality of your adventures seemed to dawn on her.

You analyzed Nesta as she stood before you, noticing how both she and Feyre towered over you. For children who had once been on the brink of starvation, their height was remarkable, a stark contrast to your own shorter stature. A slight bitterness flickered within you at the thought, but you quickly pushed it aside.

"Why would I tell you stories that weren’t true?" you replied, smiling at her. You saw the way she fought a smile, and it warmed your heart. Feyre watched the interaction with a look of mild shock, perhaps surprised by the rapport you shared with her sister. The dynamics between the sisters were complex and often strained, each one embodying a different personality.

"And Elain? Where is she?" you asked, hoping to see the gentle sister as well. Nesta's gaze hardened. "She’s different now, you could say the least." You simply nodded, understanding that there were likely painful changes and experiences that had affected Elain. You decided to leave it at that, hoping you might see her later that night.

As Feyre continued chatting with you, you both moved toward the dining room. The table was laden with various dishes, a feast that was both inviting and overwhelming. Nesta slowed her pace to walk beside you, glancing at you with softened eyes. Perhaps your presence brought a sense of normalcy to her, a reminder of simpler times before their lives had been irrevocably altered.

When you glanced behind you, Azriel was gone from sight. Perhaps he had other matters to attend to. A pang of disappointment hit you, a small ache at the absence of his steadying presence. A strange feeling that you have never felt before.

As you reached the dining room, Feyre gestured for you to take a seat. "Please, make yourself at home," she said warmly. "We have plenty of food, and I hope you find something you like." Feyre went off to grab the others, though you could not sense the fae or scent them. You assumed you would be meeting Feyre’s mate this evening and the rest of the important members of the court.

Nesta settled into a chair next to you, and you noticed a faint smile tugging at her lips. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Moments later, Elain made her way into the room, offering you a shy smile as a greeting. You weren’t the closest, but she would often come to you for seeds or advice on helping her plants. Elain had always been an ethereal beauty, but now she seemed like a haunted beauty, as if her mind was plagued with thoughts that nobody could understand, perhaps not even herself.

Nesta flashed Elain a worried glance before glancing at the doorway. That was when you noticed a large Illyrian male entering the room. It was as if the doorway was made specifically for him, his hulking size filling the entire archway as he made his way to take a seat across from Nesta. While Azriel was classically handsome, this Illyrian male seemed rougher but equally handsome, with a sun-kissed glow on his tan skin. You noticed Nesta stiffen in her chair, glancing away from him.

His booming voice broke the silence in the room. "You must be the new healer. I’m Cassian. It’s a pleasure to meet you." Your gaze met his. He was handsome, with the same golden eyes as Azriel, though Cassian’s had more specks of brown. As Azriel’s eyes revealed the predator behind them, so did Cassian’s. Your eyes shifted to the red siphons that matched Azriel’s blue siphons, an Illyrian tradition to control their magic.

"Pleasure to meet you as well, Cassian," you said softly, before noticing Azriel had entered behind him. Azriel dipped his head in greeting to you, a subtle yet reassuring gesture. You acknowledged him with a nod, feeling a sense of relief at his presence.

You noticed Elain’s gaze shift to Azriel, her posture stiffening and becoming more refined. There was an unmistakable tension in the air, a complex web of emotions and unspoken words binding everyone in the room. The dynamics between them were intricate, layered with history and unhealed wounds.

As Mor and another small fae entered the room, the atmosphere shifted slightly. The small fae didn’t seem completely fae, as if a darker presence lurked behind that delicate exterior. Mor greeted you with a warm smile and a hug, her bubbly nature unchanged since you last met her.

"Good to see you again," Mor said brightly, her cheerfulness a welcome contrast to the otherwise tense atmosphere.

The small fae, whom you now had a name for was Amren, took a seat across from you. Her piercing gaze felt like it was analyzing your every move, reminiscent of a tiger ready to strike. She swirled a glass of blood in one hand, a clear indication that she was not truly fae. You caught her knowing look and the deadly smirk that played on her lips, a gesture that went unnoticed by everyone else at the table but you two.

Amren's smirk deepened slightly as she realized you understood her true nature. It was a silent acknowledgment, a mutual recognition of the other’s hidden depths. You held her gaze for a moment longer before turning your attention back to the table.

Feyre walked in with Rhysand, their hands clasped together as they entered the room. Rhysand's piercing violet gaze locked onto you, a reminder of the dangerous power he wielded. If anyone here posed a threat to your life, it was him. You sat in a room full of predators, their eyes revealing their true natures. A part of you wanted to sink into your chair, but you fought that feeling. If you had succumbed to fear every time it reared its head, you wouldn't have made it this far. Fear was fuel for growth after all. You kept your heartbeat calm even as every bone in your body urged you to leave. Perhaps this was the human part of you speaking.

Feyre and Rhysand took their spots at the head of the table, and Rhysand gestured for everyone to begin eating. You felt a subtle pressure at the back of your mind, like claws scratching at the surface, but your shields held strong. You were aware that trust in this court had to be earned, and you wouldn’t expect anything less. You pretended not to notice the mental probing as you filled your plate, focusing on the idle chatter at the table.

The conversation flowed around you, a mix of light-hearted banter and more serious discussions. You listened attentively, trying to piece together the dynamics and relationships between the members of the Inner Circle. Feyre and Rhysand's connection was palpable, their bond a solid anchor for the group. Mates you thought, what an interesting concept.

Nesta remained guarded, but there was a softness in her eyes when she glanced at you or Elain. Elain, still ethereal and haunted, seemed to sink into her chair as she stared at her plate. Cassian's boisterous presence added a layer of warmth to the gathering, his laughter and teasing lightening the mood. Mor’s cheerful demeanor and Amren’s enigmatic aura balanced each other out, creating an intriguing dynamic.

Azriel, though quiet, was a constant presence. His eyes frequently met yours, and a part of you hated this new emotion you felt every time you looked at him. Your heart wanted to leap from your chest at every glance, a sense of a tug, a longing to be closer. You watched his lips as he brought a glass of wine to them, the deep red liquid staining them the color of blood. You broke your stare away, as did he, with a subtle tug of his lips.

After dinner concluded, Nesta walked with you to the balcony. Feyre watched you both walk away, perhaps sensing that this was the comfort Nesta needed, someone familiar. Neither of you noticed the shadow that trailed behind you.

“Do they always look at you like that?” you murmured, leaning against the cool balcony railing as the wind rustled through your hair. Nesta joined you after shutting the door, her gaze cool and distant as she looked out over the city below, where the lights mirrored the twinkling stars above.

“Like I’m the cruel viper that I am?” Nesta snapped, her expression clearly signaling she wanted to drop the topic. But you pressed on, curious to see how she would respond.

You pursed your lips before continuing, "No, not like that. More like they’re waiting for you to strike, or maybe just trying to understand you."

Nesta let out a breathless laugh, her eyes narrowing slightly, an edge to her voice. “Understand me?” she echoed, her voice sharp. “I let my younger sister wander into the woods alone at fourteen. They see me as the villain in her story.”

You turned to face her fully, the city lights mixed with the starry night casting a soft glow on her features. “Perhaps they do, Nesta, but I think it’s because you make it so damn hard for anyone to get close. Even as a child, your words were sharp like a blade; you are strong like one too. I hate seeing you shrink under their gazes. Maybe it’s my lack of human emotion, but I don’t understand your guilt. You were a child too.”

Nesta’s eyes flashed with something raw, a mix of pain and defiance. "Maybe I was a child, but I was the oldest. I should have protected Feyre. Instead, I watched her struggle while I did nothing."

"Doing nothing can be a form of protection too," you said softly. "Sometimes, it's all we can do to survive. You can't change the past, but you can decide what to do now. Shrinking away helps no one, least of all you."

Nesta looked away, her jaw tightening. "It's not that simple."

"Of course it isn't," you agreed. "Life isn’t simple, especially an immortal one."

She was silent for a moment, the wind tugging at her hair. "And what about you? Why do you leave for years on end? Your eyes have always looked like you're lost in another world."

You sighed, leaning against the railing. "Let me give you some context. Elves don’t have human emotions—we lack the need to love, to be happy, to feel sad. I’m only half-elf, but I don’t experience emotions like my human side. So, I joined a guild to learn how to be human. That led me to buy a house in a human village, mimicking their emotions, hoping that one day I could learn to love.” Another sigh escaped your lips. “What I want you to understand, Nesta, is that being immortal is both a blessing and a curse. You have an eternity to be hard on yourself, but you also have that time to be kind to yourself as well."

You could tell that Nesta closed her walls once more. You read her too well, and she pushed you away. You were fine with that; you got your message across. It wasn’t until in a small voice she asked, “You can’t feel emotions?” her gaze shifting to you. You shook your head and with a laugh said,

“While we're out here speaking trauma, for eighty years, I locked myself away from any form of contact. Stories came about in villages nearby that a lone elf lives in the woods. It was true. For eighty years, I did not know what to do with myself. My mentor, who was human, had passed away from old age. As a child, I watched her grow wrinkles; when I turned nineteen, I stopped aging, but she continued.” You sucked in a breath before continuing, “On her deathbed, she taught me a spell - to create a field of flowers. Her last request was on her grave; she wanted a field of wildflowers and apologized for only teaching me revenge magic. You see, she taught me how to be a weapon, how to suppress my mana, and made me into the mage I am today. When my mentor passed, the only thing I did was create a field of flowers and live by myself in the woods. I did not shed a tear or feel any sadness. Then one day, I woke up and did my usual routine, and a human found me in the woods. He said he needed a mage for a dungeon raid his party was going on, a simple request. That’s when I began to learn to be human.” You shifted your gaze to look at her.

Nesta listened intently, her expression unreadable. “So, you spent eighty years alone in the woods, without feeling anything?”

“Exactly,” you confirmed. “It was a strange existence, to say the least. But it taught me a lot about myself and the world. And it’s what eventually led me here, to this moment, standing on this balcony with you.”

Nesta nodded slowly, processing your words. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like. To live for so long without feeling anything.”

“It wasn’t easy,” you admitted. “But it made me who I am today. And I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

There was a moment of silence between you, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Then, Nesta spoke again, her voice soft.

“Thank you for sharing that with me.”

You gave her a small smile. “Thank you for listening. It’s not often I get to talk about my past. One of my biggest fears is that I would be forgotten from the world.”

She nodded, a hint of understanding in her eyes. “We all have our demons to face, I suppose.”

“Indeed,” you agreed. “And immortality is a long time to face them head-on.”

As you stood there together, the night air cool and calm around you, you felt a sense of connection with Nesta. It was a small step, but an important one. You reached over and on your tip toes, pat her on top of the head.

“I will always carry you in my memories Nesta, even if nobody else will. Just remember that I will carry your memory.” You murmured in a soft voice. That trailing shadow slithered away into the dark abyss to report the newfound knowledge.

“I hope you get to learn how to love, Y/n. Perhaps I will too” Nesta said as she walked away back into the House of Wind with you trailing behind.

Azriel greeted you with a gentle hand extended, his voice soft as he inquired, "We have a meeting tomorrow. Is it alright if I escort you back?" Though he felt a pang of guilt for eavesdropping on your conversation with Nesta, it granted him a deeper understanding of you. You, a three-hundred-year-old who had never experienced love, mirrored his own plight in a way. While Azriel knew how to love, it was a sentiment never reciprocated.

Why did he always find himself lost in such thoughts around you?

As the members of the inner circle bid you farewell, Nesta remained silent but gave you a knowing glance. Azriel then lifted you into his arms, igniting a flurry of sensations that made your heart race. You silently prayed that he wouldn't notice the warmth flooding your body under his touch, or the thunderous rhythm of your heart. Azriel was grateful for your lack of fae senses, unaware of his attraction towards you, and the yearning to draw closer to you.

With a powerful beat of his wings, he took flight with you cradled in his arms, disappearing into the night sky. His wings stretched wide, their flapping a symphony against the backdrop of darkness. His shadows danced around you, their caresses like silk, and their whispers of praise enveloped you. They dubbed you a pretty little mage, prompting a blush to grace your cheeks.

Azriel's internal conflict surged as he carried you through the night sky. His thoughts swirled with a mixture of guilt, desire, and uncertainty. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was treading on thin ice, dangerously close to crossing boundaries that should never be breached.

Every beat of his wings seemed to echo the rapid pace of his heart as he held you close, feeling the warmth of your body against his. He couldn't help but wonder why he always found himself tangled in such thoughts around you. Was it because you were unlike anyone he had ever met? Or perhaps because there was a vulnerability in you that resonated with his own?

As he glanced down at you, he couldn't help but notice the faint blush on your cheeks, a sight that sent a jolt of something indescribable through him. He had to remind himself to maintain a facade of composure, to keep his emotions in check, even as every fiber of his being longed to delve deeper into the connection he felt with you.

The whispers of his shadows only added to the turmoil within him, their words a constant reminder of the forbidden desires that threatened to consume him. But despite it all, he couldn't deny the pull he felt towards you, the magnetic attraction that seemed to defy reason and logic.

As he soared through the night with you in his arms, Azriel couldn't help but wonder what this pull to you was. Only time would tell, but one thing was certain: he couldn't shake the feeling that you were destined to change everything.

#azriel x reader #acotar #azriel x you #azriel #acotar azriel #shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #nesta acotar #feyre acotar #rhysand acotar

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