#Ray's series “Are We Too Young For This?” | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sukirichi · 5 months ago

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[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 018 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. angst, infidelity, defamation, forced incest (please read the chapter first before you come at me 😭), reader uses a gun, alcohol consumption, emotional manipulation, toxic characters and toxic relationships, iris pov (just for a short part), mentions of murder, car accidents

notes. YOOO can you guys believe we are so close to the ending!! thank you guys so much for being so sweet and supportive to dtd! even though ik most of the readers are away and busy with school now (as am i) i still hope you guys enjoy this update hehe. the next chapter drop should be around the regular dtd tuesdays <3

wc. 13k

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[ EIGHTEEN ] no matter how easy things could be if I did, and no matter how guilty I still feel saying it. I wish I hated you.

In hindsight, the day began like any other day in the glorious kingdom of Inarizaki.

The early morning sun cast its golden glow over the streets that bustled with people, the shops opening with smiles and greetings to the familiar faces of loyal customers. The air was filled with the aroma of freshly baked bread and brewed tea, the distant chime of church bells signalling the start of a new day.

But beneath this serene facade, a storm was threatening to blow – one that would shake the very foundations of the already fragile throne. Iris knew this, too – she could feel it, could extend her hand and have her fingertips brush against her inevitable end.

As the first rays of light filtered through the windows of homes and cafes, Iris watched as the kingdom’s most widely read newspapers hit the stands. The headline had been bold and dramatic, splashed across the front page in large, black letters enough to garner heads turning its way. Who Is The Real Iris Amari? it read, accompanied by a series of photographs that left little to the imagination.

The citizens of Inarizaki began their mind-numbing routine, unaware of the bombshell waiting for them in the morning news. It started slowly, with a few early risers picking up the newspaper and gasping in shock. Unsurprisingly, the scandal spread like wildfire.

The younger ones scrolled through their phones, stopping in their tracks as the news popped up on their screens. The article quickly went viral, shared across social media platforms in the speed of light. It seemed that everyone had something to say about the explosive revelation – Iris’ official portrait decorated on it all.

In a cafe Iris had once loved visiting when she was still a teenager, where morning coffee was usually a time spent with light-hearted chatter and gossip during a faraway era when she still had friends, the atmosphere grew tense and charged. She could’ve been one of them, she thinks, a group of young people huddled together, their voices hushed but urgent. “Did you see the news about Princess Iris?” a woman whispered to her companion, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Her mother involved in a murder? I can’t believe it?”

“Now that they mention it,” mumbled the man next to her, stroking his chin in thought. “It was rather odd that she got married to the Second Prince out of nowhere.”

All across the Kingdom, people gathered in small clusters – their faces a mix of shock, outrage, and disbelief. The photographs shown in the article were damning, capturing moments that painted a grim picture of Princess Iris’ past. One image showed her mother, Kate Amari, in a heated argument with the Late King. Another depicted Iris herself at a lavish party, her expression one of defiance and rebellion.

She’d remembered that party, could recall how the events went crystal clear. She’d been so young, barely nineteen and out of high school, when the impending doom of her fate grew ever near. A few years from now, she would’ve been forced into a marriage with a Prince whose affections she could never win. And what better way to accept her fate than make her mother outraged? So she’d partied, drunk herself to nearly the point of no return, and stumbled back home crying because she’d known. Her fate had been decided from her the moment the Late King slipped from her mother’s grasp, and into the arms of another woman.

She could have never escaped it.

She was nothing but a painful reminder of what her mother could’ve had. I could’ve been his concubine, her mother would cry herself to sleep, screaming those words over and over. Glass would shatter on the walls as she threw another empty bottle of wine over Iris’ head. He said he loved me! He said he would take us home and we would be together as a family!

Such dreams were shattered in the blink of an eye. No matter how much she wailed, and ran after the Late King, it never changed the fact that her mother was the daughter of a lowborn servant, and the Late King had always been majestic from the day he was born.

We were in love, she would tell Iris, brushing her hands through her dark locks – the same shade as the King’s. He’d always loved me, you see. Before the Crown forced him to marry her, you know? The Queen? The one who never smiles? He doesn’t love her, my dear, but he has us. You and me, his precious girls.

Iris thought his mother was delusional. She knew all about it, of course. She’d read her mother’s journals, the love letters the King had penned. She hadn’t been lying that he loved her, once.

The King, merely a Crown Prince at the time, aged sixteen when he first crossed the borders and paid an official visit to the humbler towns of Itachiyama where he met her mother. They’d been young, and foolishly in love. And her mother, illiterate and innocent, had captured the Prince’s heart. He thought her an ideal woman; unstained by ideals, untainted by the law. She knew only how to love him, and for once in his life, he’d felt more of a boy than he was a Prince. He’d made promises he couldn’t keep, promises of running away to the ends of the earth where they could be together.

Like a fool, Iris’ mother held onto his promise. She kept her loyalty even after he’d married the current Queen. She kept chasing after him even after the First Prince – a bastard child – was born. She’d loved him, through and through, until he returned to Itachiyama and made her believe he’d returned for her, only to stumble in the same sheets as Kiyoomi’s mother.

Her mother hadn’t been the same ever since.

She grew obsessed with revenge, throwing herself into a path where redemption couldn’t exist. She’d studied, made a name of herself, and flew to Inarizaki the moment the King had drunkenly put a child into her belly. Not that the King could remember – hence why he never accepted Iris as his own.

But she’d find herself amongst her true family. That was Kate Amari’s promise before the Queen betrayed her, and put her behind bars.

On the busy streets of the capital, pedestrians paused to check their phones, their reactions intense. Some stared in disbelief, while others shook their heads in disgust. A few young people, who had grown up admiring Princess Iris, felt a deep sense of betrayal. “I always thought she was different,” a teenager muttered to his friend. “But this... this is something else.”

The Palace was thrown into chaos as the news spread.

Inside the grand halls, staff members whispered amongst themselves, casting anxious glances towards the royal chambers. Courtiers and advisors rushed to convene emergency meetings, their faces pale and drawn. The Queen, upon hearing the news, simply sat down and pressed her lips into a thin line.

In the markets and town squares, debates broke out as people tried to make sense of the allegations. Some defended Princess Iris, arguing that the writer was anonymous, and the photographs could be doctored. “You can’t believe everything you read,” a shopkeeper insisted, waving his hand dismissively. “This could be a plot to discredit the royal family.”

The others were not so easily convinced. “Look at the evidence,” a customer countered, pointing to the newspaper. “The photographs, the timeline – it all fits. How can you ignore that?”

The debate raged on, with emotions running high on both sides. Some citizens called for Princess Iris to be stripped of her title and brought to justice, while others urged caution and a thorough investigation before jumping to conclusions. It was evident that the Kingdom stood on the brink of a social and political upheaval.

Even as the palace attempted to manage the fallout, the scandal showed no signs of abating.

News channels broadcasted special reports, experts weight in with their opinions, and social media buzzed with speculation and outrage. The Kingdom of Inarizaki had never seen such a scandal, and it seemed that everyone had been swept up in the maelstrom.

In the midst of the chaos, Princess Iris remained secluded within the palace walls, shielded from the public eye as she held a hand to her belly. But the damage was done. The question on everyone’s mind was how the royal family would recover from such a devastating blow – a question not even Iris had the answer to.

She knew one thing, and one thing, only.

She was a Princess, and she’d do anything to keep her place within the Palace walls.

Iris stood by the window of her – your – lavishly decorated room, staring out at the gardens she had once found solace in. The vibrant flowers, the meticulously trimmed hedges, the majestic fountains – all of it seemed like a distant memory now, a world that no longer belonged to her. Instead, a hollow numbness settled deep within her chest, a void where her hopes and dreams once resided.

When Iris first laid eyes on you on the day Rintaro picked you out in a crowded room, she’d thought you were harmless. Dull. Plain. You spoke only what needed to be said, and made no unnecessary movements. Stiff, and boring. She would’ve never thought, or seen it coming, that her damnation would come from the hands of a poor, lovesick girl who’d been lied to.

The heavy footsteps of the guards echoed in the corridor outside, growing louder with each passing second. She knew they were coming for her, to escort her out of the Palace for the last time.

The ornate mirror on the wall showed a reflection Iris could barely recognized – the same as her mother’s eyes had now lost their spark, a face that aged overnight from the weight of the scandal.

The door opened with a creak, and the guards stepped in. She felt their presence more than she saw it, their stern faces and impassive conveying the gravity of her situation. They waited silently, giving her a moment to gather herself, but there was nothing left to gather. Her spirit felt fragmented, her resolve shattered. Now, all she felt was anger hidden underneath a layer of numbness. Don’t look at me like that, she wanted to sneer, I am your Princess. I am the King’s only daughter!

She turned from the window, her movements slow and deliberate, as if she were in a dream. Her heart was a heavy stone in her chest, each beat a reminder of the life she was leaving behind.

The corridor stretched out before her, each step echoing with a finality that was almost suffocating. The opulence of the palace, the tapestries, and gilded frames, all seemed to mock her now. She had once walked these halls with confidence and grace, but now, every step felt like a march towards her end. It was all hers – all could’ve been hers – if you never stepped in and took it all away from her.

As she descended the staircase, the memories of simpler times haunted her. The laughter, the never-ending banquets and stock of wine, the promises of a future that had been her birthright – they all seemed like a cruel illusion now. She could feel the eyes of the palace staff on her, their pity and curiosity cutting through the numbness like a knife. Still, she kept her head high, determined to maintain her dignity in these final moments.

The guards flanked her as she reached the main entrance. The heavy doors were already open, revealing the world beyond the palace walls. The bright sunlight was almost blinding. She paused at the threshold, taking one last look at the place that had been her home, her prison, and her battleground.

With a deep breath, she stepped out into the light. The doors closed behind her with a final, echoing thud, sealing her fate. The guards guided her towards the waiting vehicle, their hands gentle yet firm on her arms. She climbed inside, her movements robotic, her mind still struggling to process the enormity of what was happening.

As the carriage began to move, the palace slowly disappeared from view, replaced by the bustling streets of the city. She saw the faces of the citizens, some curious, some indifferent, and a few sympathetic. But none of it mattered anymore. Her life as Princess Iris was over, and what lay ahead was a life she never deserved.

The numbness returned, a merciful shield against the overwhelming reality. She leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes, letting the gentle sway of the carriage lull her into a state of detached calm. The future was uncertain, but for now, all she could do was endure.

Summoned by the royal advisors and members of the council, Iris made her way to the council chamber. As she approached the large, intricately carved doors, two guards pushed them open, revealing a room filled with stern faces and accusatory eyes.

The room was a stark contrast to the rest of the palace. It was dimly lit, with long shadows cast by the flickering candlelight. The heavy wooden table at the center was surrounded by the kingdom’s most powerful and influential figures, all of whom had been convened to address the scandal that had erupted overnight.

“Princess Iris,” one of the senior advisors began, his voice cold and devoid of empathy. "Do you understand the gravity of the situation? The article has not only tarnished your reputation but has also brought disgrace upon the entire royal family."

Iris stood before them, trying to maintain her composure. Her eyes met those of the advisors, seeking any hint of understanding or compassion, but finding none. She nodded, unable to trust her voice to remain steady. She’d already figured this would happen.

“We have no choice,” another advisor interjected. “The people demand accountability, and the council has decided that you must be stripped of your title. This is a necessary step to restore faith in the monarchy.”

The words hit her like a physical blow. Stripped of her title. The enormity of the situation began to sink in, and she felt a wave of humiliation wash over her.

“You can’t,” she croaked out, her throat growing dry. “I-I am married to the Second Prince, and my title is secured. You cannot separate us as divorce is illegal, and if you do so... that would be saying the Prince loses his title, too.”

The advisors shared a look with one another, processing the gravity of her words. “While what you say is indeed true, this is one of those occasions where we must make... necessary adjustments,” the senior advisor said, his glasses pushed up to his nose. “We have already taken measures to fact-check the article and–”

“And?”

The senior advisor glares at her for interrupting. The entire change in attitude was impalpable; now that she’d been scandalized, everyone suddenly lost respect for her. “–And we found that everything written in it was true, just as the photographs are real. We also found records confirming that your mother, Kate Amari, was imprisoned years ago for murder. The King’s murder.”

A bitter, sardonic laugh bubbled from her throat. “I do not deny that, but did anyone ever investigate why she killed him?” A round of gasps echoed through the room at the revelation. “I am willing to bet on my whole life that none of you know how important I am in the royal family, that if it weren’t for me, all of you would be losing your positions and jobs as we speak! It was I who kept all the secrets, the one and only reason you are all able to live your pathetic, worthless lives because none of you know anything! You don’t even know that the Queen you worship reverently is–”

The grand doors of the courtroom creaked open, and the air seemed to grow heavier with each passing second. All eyes turned towards the entrance as the Queen, clad in a dark, regal gown that seemed to absorb the light, stepped into the room. Her presence commanded an immediate, oppressive silence, freezing everyone in their places.

Her gaze, cold and calculating, swept across the assembly, landing on each individual with the weight of her authority. The air was thick with tension as courtiers and officials alike dared not to breathe too loudly, lest they draw her scrutiny. Iris felt her heart seize in her chest, her earlier numbness replaced by a paralyzing fear. The Queen’s entrance had turned the room into a tableau of silent dread, each person awaiting the inevitable judgment that her arrival heralded.

“That is enough,” her cold, heartless voice sweeps across the room. “The final decision has been made. You are no longer allowed to speak another word unless I, the Queen, permits it.”

“Traitor,” Iris sneered, baring her teeth and lunging at the Queen when the guards held her back. “You’re a traitor! This isn’t what we agreed upon!”

The Queen, unfazed, sighs. “Take her away from here.”

Before Iris could protest further, a pair of strong arms escorted her to the grand hall for the public ceremony. The grand hall, usually a place of celebration and state affairs, was now filled with a somber and judgmental crowd. Nobles, courtiers, and even some members of the public had gathered to witness the spectacle. The air was thick with anticipation and whispers.

The whispers grew louder with each step she took. She walked with her head held high, determined not to let them see her crumble.

The queen, stood at the front of the room. She held a scepter in her hand, a symbol of the authority that was about to be wielded against Iris. The ceremony was swift, almost mechanical in its execution.

“Princess Iris,” the queen began, her voice echoing through the hall. “You have brought dishonor to this family and to this kingdom. By the power vested in me, I hereby strip you of your title and all the privileges that come with it.”

With those words, the queen raised the scepter and tapped it on Iris’s shoulder. The symbolic gesture felt like a final, crushing blow. The murmurs in the crowd grew louder, a mix of shock, satisfaction, and pity. Meanwhile, Iris stood, her eyes drawn to the ground as she fought back against the tears that threatened to fall.

She couldn’t believe it. The Queen had broken their agreement, turned back on her word like she did with her Mother. She’d promised her mother to place her within the royal family, then banished her overseas without another word. Now, she betrayed Iris too – arranging her marriage with Kiyoomi, her brother, and took it away from her.

The queen continued, her voice unwavering. “You are no longer Princess Iris of Inarizaki. You are hereby banished from the royal palace, and your marriage to Prince Kiyoomi is annulled.”

The crowd gasped, the severity of the punishment sinking in. Iris raised her head, unable to stop the tear slipping down her cheek. Quickly, she wiped it away. She had to remain strong, if only for the sake of her dignity, because what could she say now? That she was pregnant, and Kiyoomi had to continue with the announcement of ‘the happy news’? She couldn’t – she was stuck in a dead-end corner, and judging by the slight smile playing on the Queen’s lips, she’d already calculated this potential move.

She’d known Iris would never bring up the baby to save herself. Iris would never subject herself to an unwanted pregnancy, keeping up this pretend of sickening act of husband and wife with her brother any longer. If she did, the Crown would pressure her to have another child – one with Kiyoomi this time around, assuming that Rintaro would be disposed of soon enough.

Iris couldn’t go that far.

The Queen, as always, got what she wanted and won.

As the ceremony concluded, Iris turned and walked out of the grand hall. The heavy doors closed behind her with a resounding thud.

Her mind raced with thoughts of what to do next. Where would she go now? Her mother was gone, and she had no allies, made no friends. Maiko could’ve been someone to run to, but even the foolish kid had been too enamoured with you to ever have any loyalty for her. But she refused to let it end like this. She had to clear her mother’s name, to reveal the truth about the queen’s crimes.

She wasn’t going to let it end like this.

With her title stripped and her future uncertain, Iris vowed to fight back. She would uncover the secrets buried deep within the palace walls, expose the queen’s treachery, and reclaim her honor. As she walked away from the palace, the whispers of the crowd still echoing in her ears, Iris walked onwards with newfound resolve. She might have lost her title, but she had not lost her spirit. The battle for her mother’s honor and her own redemption had only just begun.

She would take back what was hers.

The palace was sent into a whirlwind of chaos after Iris’ deposition.

You and Kiyoomi stood in the hallway of Belleview Manor, observing the frenzy. Servants moved like automatons, their faces set in grim determination as they hauled the remnants of Iris’ belongings out of her quarters, tossing her clothes and personal items into hastily arranged piles.

You watched as delicate dresses were carelessly bundled, precious trinkets thrown aside, and keepsakes unceremoniously discarded. Your eyes fell upon a particularly cherished item – a framed photo of a younger Iris and what appeared to be her mother. Their faces were lit into smiles, Iris’ smaller hands held tightly within her mother’s. It struck a chord of guilt within you, and you stepped forward, halting a servant who was about to toss it aside.

“Leave it,” you mouth silently, taking the photograph from the bewildered servant’s hands. Clutching the frame, you held it tightly to your chest, looking up at Kiyoomi with wide eyes.

It’d been less than a week since the news spread of Iris’ abrupt leave. The Queen had stripped her off her title, and the entire Kingdom had been harsh in their glee over it. It was ruthless, needless to say, how easily they turned on Iris – who was once their Princess – the moment the article had been released. She went from being adored to being shunned to the point that even Itachiyama had closed its doors on her.

But wasn’t that what you wanted?

You’d been so desperate to keep Kiyoomi away from her grasp. Now, you’d succeeded. Iris had left, your room was now yours again, and any traces of the brunette finally disappeared.

And yet... why did none of it feel good? You weren’t proud, weren’t happy.

Outside, the commotion was no less intense. The air was thick with whispers and hurried conversations, the scent of scandal permeating every corner of the palace grounds. Meanwhile, Kiyoomi watched it all unfurl with a cold dispassion, as if he was merely an observer.

Your heart ached with a pang of pity as you glanced at him, but there was no time to dwell on it. In the span of forty eight hours, he’d lost his wife, and was pushed to being another pawn again. That part you hadn’t thought through – Kiyoomi may have been freed from Iris, but who was to stop the Queen from marrying him off to another woman? The political crisis between Itachiyama and Inarizaki was temporarily resolved the last time he’d went there, when you went there, but that had been months. And now, with the recent issue of Itachiyama being shamed for having such ‘lowborn people’ like Iris, none of it was getting better.

A small voice in your head urged you to find Iris, to offer some semblance of comfort or understanding. Gripping the photograph tighter, you make your way to your car, wondering where Iris might have gone after experiencing such a public humiliation.

Just as you were about to open the car door, a firm hand grabbed your arm. You turned to see Kiyoomi right behind you, his face etched with a mixture of confusion and concern. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I have to find Iris.”

“No,” his grip tightens with urgency, already slamming the car door shut behind you. “You shouldn’t go anywhere. It’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous? What’s going on?”

“She’s not going to let this end,” he murmurs silently, pulling you into his chest as he looks around warily. He didn’t need to elaborate; the gravity of the moment was clear. The scandal, the disgrace, it was spreading like wildfire. There was no telling where it would end or what further damage might be done.

“Kiyoomi... Did I do the right thing?” you ask him, brow furrowing as your palms grew sweaty. “I-I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I know it would’ve gotten your marriage annulled with her, but... I don’t know what they’re going to do her, Omi. Will she be alright out there?”

Kiyoomi’s lips press into a thin line. “She will be, but I can’t guarantee things will stay the same,” he pauses, as if hesitating, then reaches to comb his hair back. “Listen. Iris is not going to take any of this lightly. There’s no telling what she will do next, but I can guarantee that none of us are safe here.”

You bite your lip, pondering it before you decided, “I still need to go.”

“Where will you go?” Kiyoomi lets go of your hand, not wanting to stop you, but not entirely willing to let you leave either. Instead, his shoulders sagged, his eyes pleading. “Just... Stay here with me. Or at least let me accompany you.”

You shook your head. You’d just freed Kiyoomi from the ties that bound him; if you dragged him with you again, then this would never end. This was something you had to solve for yourself, but if Iris couldn’t be found , then you had to start with him. “I need to find Rintaro. He still has a child with her, Omi. We don’t know how he’s handling the situation right now.”

Kiyoomi’s lips pressed into a thin line. Sighing through his nose, he seemed to have an internal debate before he closes his eyes. “Okay. I��ll come with you.”

“No, it’s...” you insisted, “I think you should stay behind.”

Silence stretches between you both. For a moment, it looks like Kiyoomi wanted to say more, but chose not to. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt you – the way he closed off on himself, his walls put up so high you could barely look past it. But what could you do? And Kiyoomi, too, must’ve known this was a losing game. Forcing a smile on his face, he nods.

“Call me if you need anything.”

You smile at him gratefully, photograph still clutched to your chest before opening the car door. Then, you sped out of the driveway and called Rintaro, unsurprised that it went straight to voicemail. You tried asking the twins, even Kita, anyone who might’ve known where your husband was. But alas, none of them had the slightest clue. The last they saw of him was just before Iris was taken away by the guards, hovering behind her with an impassive look on his face.

He’d shortly disappeared after that. None of your texts and calls came through.

Jaw clenched, you turned on the location tracker you’d placed on his phone that time before you left for Itachiyama, mindlessly turning on the radio in case there’d been any reported sightings. You tuned in, letting the music fill the space in the air.

You gripped the steering wheel, your knuckles stiff with tension. You’d been driving for what seemed like hours now, eyes scanning the roads and alleys, searching for any sign of Rintaro. Fatigue weighed heavily on you now that the sun had long set, your eyelids drooping and your body aching from being sat for so long. Still, the tracker on your phone remained stubbornly blank, offering no direction to head in.

Just as you decided to turn back, the car radio crackled to life. The unmistakable voice of Iris filled the vehicle. You immediately went still, your heart pounding in your chest. You quickly pulled over to the side of the road, your breath catching as you listened intently.

Greetings, citizens of Inarizaki. It is I, Iris Amari, your former Princess and representative of Itachiyama. As you all know, I have recently been stripped of my titles now that the history behind my mother’s sudden disappearance has been uncovered.

A short pause.

I confess that I am guilty of manipulating the Crown Prince out of my boredom. The truth is, I was in a loveless marriage with the Second Prince, and I was lonely in the Palace when my husband would leave me to entertain myself for weeks, sometimes months on end. A lonely woman could only endure so much, and the Crown Prince was always there – warm, welcoming, and as lovely as he’d been when we met during our school years. I couldn’t help but seek out his company, even when he’d already married the Yuzuru heiress. After all, I knew my marriage with the Second Prince was hopeless. He would never speak to me, much less look my way – an arrangement I was satisfied with as long as it meant I could remain being a Princess.

You leant back in your seat, gnawing at your lip as you hung on to every word she said.

Now, to answer the question everyone has been dying to know: how did a no-name foreigner like me marry into the Royal Family? The truth is simple. I am the King’s only daughter, and Her Majesty the Queen manipulated my desperate, lovesick, and heartbroken mother to do her bidding. They’d both been victims of the King, their hearts toyed with until they were fueled with anger.

Your grip on the steering wheel loosened. Glancing at Iris’ photograph on the passenger seat, you stared hard at her features – green eyes, loose and dark wavy hair, almost with the same pattern of Kiyoomi’s curls. Looking at her now, Iris had always looked so... familiar. And that thought – or realization – alone, had your mouth drying.

But if they were both the King’s children, and they were married... A gasp fell from your lips.

Was that why Kiyoomi refused to touch her? Why he’d looked at her, repulsed and paling like she was vermin? It hadn’t been because she was, but rather because she was his sister.

The Queen, having had enough of her husband’s affairs and mistreatments, ordered my mother to murder him under the promise she would welcome me into the Palace. My mother did as she was told, concerned only with securing her daughter’s future, but the Queen betrayed us. Shortly after the King died, the Queen banished my mother from Inarizaki and put her behind bars to ensure her silence.

As a last resort to somewhat keep her end of the deal, she then enrolled me in Inarizaki Private Royal Academy to learn about how to run the country as a future Princess. Years later, after I graduated, she arranged my marriage with Prince Kiyoomi, my half-brother.

Now this all begs the question regarding the recent cheating scandal of the Crown Prince: if I’d known all this time that I was the King’s daughter, did I not seduce my own blood and flesh?

You may think so, but the Queen keeps a plethora of lies to keep this Kingdom running – one of her secrets being that she never had a child with the Late King, and Crown Prince Rintaro is nothing but a fraud. He is not of royal flesh and blood. He is nothing but a boy picked up on the streets to become the Queen’s puppet.

When the announcement ended, the music previously playing stuttered before continuing to where it left off. You sat there, stunned in silence with your mind reacing.

The sound of your heartbeat filled your ears, loud enough that it pulsed with the vehicle’s hum. Suddenly, your phone flashed with a notification – the tracker had located Rintaro. Adrenaline surged through you, and you slammed your foot on the gas, the car lurching forward as you sped off.

Now that Rintaro’s secret was out, you needed to find him first before the police did.

You drove through the dimly lit streets, your surroundings growing increasingly desolate. The familiar cityscape gave way to the outskirts, a labyrinth of abandoned warehouses and crumbling buildings. Shadows loomed large, casting eerie shapes that seemed to dance in the periphery of your vision. Your anxiety grew with each passing mile, the unease settling like a heavy weight in your chest.

Gripping the steering wheel tighter, you forced yourself to take a deep breath.

The once smooth road turned rough and pitted, each bump jarring your already frazzled nerves. The neon glow of the city was long behind you, now replaced by the flickering, sporadic streetlights that only deepened the shadows.

After what felt like forever, you’d finally reached your destination – a decrepit building that looked to have been abandoned for years. The windows were boarded up, and graffiti marred its exterior. Despite its appearance, the low thump of music resonated through the walls, a steady, booming pulse that hinted at life within. You parked your car and stepped out, your eyes darting around the unfamiliar surroundings.

The building loomed over you, dark and foreboding. You balled your fists at your sides, trying to steady your frantically racing heart.

As you approached the entrance, you were greeted by a hulking figure. “You got a pass?”

You blinked your eyes up at the bouncer, standing guard. He was imposing, his large, hulking arms crossed over his chest. “Uh,” you licked your dry lips, vaguely realizing a little too late that you’re inappropriately dressed for this event – pearl necklace, diamond earrings, and a silk below-the-knee champagne coloured dress. “N-No, I don’t.”

“Then I’m sorry, Miss, you can’t enter. This is an invite-only party.”

You’re already fiddling with your purse. “How much?” you raised your brows, daring the bouncer to continue smirking when he noticed the seriousness on your face. “Name me your price.” He was quick to mention the numbers, and without sparing him another glance, you shoved a wad of cash – with extra – to his tattooed hands.

The bouncer’s smirk grew wider, satisfied as he pockets the bills. “Welcome to Ecstasy. Enjoy your stay. If you don’t have a mask yet, someone at the counter will give you one. At the right price.”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed past him and through the doors. The music grew louder as you neared, its relentless beat matching the pounding of your heart. You squared your shoulders, prepared to face whatever lay behind the doors of this unsettling, hidden nightclub. What the hell was Rintaro doing here?

The deeper you entered the club, the louder the music got. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, alcohol, and something else you couldn’t quite place. The interior was a chaotic blend of darkness and vibrant neon lights, flashing in sync with the pounding bass of the music – loud enough to give you a headache. The colors danced erratically, casting shifting shadows across the grinding bodies across the room.

Everywhere you looked, people were hidden behind masks, their identities obscured in a surreal modern-era masquerade.

The masks ranged from simple to elaborate, animal-themed, Venetian, some grotesque. Yours was a simple bunny-mask, its ears protruding at the sides and the nose wide enough to cover a fraction of your eyes. You understood now why Rintaro chose to be here – the anonymity gave the revelers a sense of freedom, their movements uninhibited and wild. Everyone danced with abandon, bodies pressed close together as they moved as one with the beat. In the corners, couples were locked in passionate embraces, their hands trailing in places it shouldn’t be – completely oblivious to the world around them.

Discomfort washed over you as you navigated through the crowd.

The noise was overwhelming, a constant assault on your senses. Your formal attire, elegant and out of place, drew curious and sometimes hungry stares from the masked partygoers. Your feeble attempt in donning the bunny mask did little to hide your unease.

You pushed through the crowd, determined to find Rintaro.

Men in masks turned to watch you, their gazes lingering too long for comfort. You quickened your pace, ignoring the murmurs and the eyes that followed your every move. The flashing lights made it hard to see clearly, but you couldn’t back out now. You’d already reached this far. There was no way you were going to leave this hellish place without your husband in tow.

Finally, you spotted a tuft of dark, unruly hair.

Rintaro sat slumped at the bar, nursing a drink as his head bobbed in time to the rhythm of the music. He looked weary and lost, a stark contrast to the frenzy around him. Relief washed over you as you made your way beside him, the chaotic energy of the club seemingly fading in the background. You reached out to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder in hopes to draw him out of his stupor and back to you.

When he finally turned to you, you were met with his familiar hazel eyes – ones that bordered more on green than brown. He looked exhausted; dark circles visible even behind his wolf-shaped mask, the whiskers nearly comical as it draped on the sides. You grinned at him, relieved to have found him safe and sound. Throwing your arms around him – or more like attempted to – you found yourself gently shoved back, your lower back connecting with the stool behind you.

“Don’t touch me,” he sneers, his words slurred. “My wife won’t like it if she sees you.”

You frowned at him, rubbing at the sore spot at your back. “Don’t be stupid. We need to go home. Now.”

Rintaro throws his head back in laughter, gesturing to the bartender for another refill. Once his glass was full again, he took slow, deliberate sips – his face impassive and his eyes cold. “The night is too young. Why would I want to leave?” he murmurs more to himself than you, his gaze narrowing at your hunched figure beside him. He stares, hard, making you squirm beneath the mask. But Rintaro simply sniffs, pointing his drink in your direction. “You look awfully familiar.”

“That’s because I’m your wife. Now let’s go.”

“My wife, huh? Now I know you’re lying,” he shakes his head to himself, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he downs his drink in one go. “My wife would never look for me, and she’d never come to a place like this. She’s a little too good for everybody. A little too great for the likes of us. Even for someone like me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re not going to believe this, but I recently just found out that I’m–” he closes the distance between you, close enough that his cologne and the stench of alcohol overwhelms you. Then, he cups his palm around his mouth as if to say a secret, his mouth dangerously close to your ear as his voice drops. “–Adopted. Or kidnapped, if we’re going to be precise. Fucked up, right? But you want to know what’s even more fucked up? It’s that I genuinely thought I was this great, praise-worthy Prince who deserved no one better but my wife. And I–” his chuckles grew louder, the humour in them absent, “–I ruined it. Ruined her life. Because she doesn’t even know that she married some stupid, lowborn gardener’s son.”

You frowned at his words. Crossing your arms against your chest, you spun on your stool and faced him directly, snatching the glass from his hand before he could ask for another refill. This time around, Rintaro doesn’t protest. Just slumps further against the bar’s counter.

“Don’t talk like that. I’m sure she doesn’t think of you any differently.”

“She already does. She can barely stand to be in the same room as me,” he sighs, his head buried in his arms before him. Sleepily, and drunk out of his mind, he gazes up at you under his lashes – the sadness deep and prominent within his eyes. “She could’ve married someone else if I never came into her world, you know? She could’ve married a Lord, or-or a Duke. Hell, she could have been a Princess from another Kingdom. She deserved all that and more. Instead she’s stuck with me and I–” his breaths stuttered, “–I’m no one.”

That was it. You’d had enough of his pity party. Did he really come all the way here just to feel bad about himself? Sliding the glass towards the bartender’s way, you grabbed Rintaro by the arm, heaving at his nearly dead weight. “Rin. Please. Let’s go home.”

“I have no home,” he whines, and it’s only now you notice the tears glistening in his eyes. “I don’t have a wife, I lost my girlfriend who’s pregnant with my child, and I – where would I go? There’s no place for me here.”

“You could go with me.”

“You’re not my wife. I don’t want to go anywhere without her.”

“Rintaro, I am your wife,” you repeat, shoving your left hand right in front of his face. He’s immediately entranced by the sight, and leans into the curve of your palm. “We wear the same rings, see? It’s me.”

The sigh he lets out is dreamy. “Yeah, I’m not sober enough for this. Now I’m seeing her too.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration, you lead him back to the bar, and help him sit down without falling on his bottom. “Okay, how about this? I get you a few more drinks, and then I’ll take you back to your wife, alright? I heard the Princess was looking for you.”

Rintaro’s sniffles grow louder as he avoids your gaze. “Why would she? She’s happier now that she’s with Kiyoomi. He’s the better man, anyway, better than me in all aspects.”

The memory of Kiyoomi’s lips flashed through your mind. Faintly, you wondered if this was considered hurting Kiyoomi’s feelings – running after your husband, and tending to him when he was not in his right mind. Just the thought of Kiyoomi patiently waiting for you back at Belleview Manor broke your heart. Or maybe he paced back and forth, anxiously opening his phone every minute to check if you’d updated again – you hadn’t.

But you would return, that you knew. The past few days with him – no, everything had made your decision clear. Regardless of whatever happened next… if Rintaro would be taken away by the police, or if the Queen disposed of him first, you’d already made your mind.

You were going to choose Kiyoomi.

But tonight… tonight, Rintaro needed you. Cupping his face in your hands, you levelled his gaze with yours, putting on your warmest smile – just like how you always did whenever Rintaro ran to you, worried and burdened with his day’s work. Even if he couldn’t truly recognize you, at least your touch would – hopefully – be familiar enough. “She’s worried for you, and she sent me here to take you home. She said she wants to talk.”

“She still wants to talk to me?”

Your heart ached. You’d never heard Rintaro sound this… helpless before, and at the same time hopeful. “Of course, Rin. Always.”

“Fine,” he relents, “but you’re paying for my drinks.”

You discreetly signal to the bartender, sliding over a generous amount of cash to cover all the drinks he’d ‘ordered.’ Thankfully, he understands your silent plea, nodding and begins to serve him water instead. Rintaro, too lost in his own world, didn’t seem to notice the change as he continued to down glass after glass.

Once he had reached his limit, you gently took his arm, guiding him away from the bar and through the club. To say the journey back to your car was arduous was an understatement. Rintaro kept leaning heavily on you, his weight almost too much for you to bear. His stumbling steps made your own balance precarious, especially in your delicate kitten heels. You gritted your teeth, determined to keep you both upright as you navigated the crowded, uneven terrain outside the club.

The rocky pavement outside made the task a lot more challenging than it should be. Each step was a battle, your husband’s larger frame swaying with each faltering step. You glanced around, spotting one of his cars parked far away, but you ignored it and focused on bringing him to yours instead. You’d just have to take care of the traces he left later.

With great effort – and a lot of sweat – you finally managed to get him to your car. You opened the back door, easing him inside. Rintaro whined and resisted, but you persisted, swatting his hands away to get him settled.

You managed to manoeuvre him into the backseat, checking twice to ensure he was comfortable enough before closing the door. Before you could, Rintaro suddenly reached out to you, his fingers tugging at your sleeves. “Wait,” he pleads, his eyes huge and vulnerable.

“What?”

“Need to... need to look good,” he rambled on, stretching his long legs at the backseat and tugging at his own shirt. The material is already wrinkled beyond belief, the top buttons undone. He keeps fidgeting with it, grabbing your hands to help him fix it. Stunned, your hands hover awkwardly over his chest – unsure if buttoning it up for him would be enough to satisfy him. “Do I look good? Don’t wanna – don’t wanna look drunk. She’ll get mad. Don’t want my wife seeing me like this.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words. Sighing, you reached over and closed the top buttons, patting his chest down as if to say ‘there you go.’ “You look fine. Stop grumbling.”

Convinced enough, Rintaro stops fidgeting. You were about to close the car door once more when he suddenly pulled you next to him. You squealed, barely catching your balance as you fell beside him. In one, swift movement, Rintaro had laid down and rested his head on your lap, his long legs awkwardly curled beneath him. There, he sighs, his large hands fisting your dress as you sit still – unable to move.

“Just a few more hours, please? I want to sleep.”

You agree, finding it difficult to say no when Rintaro was so… clingy like this. It wasn’t like you could return to the Palace, anyway. Rintaro would most likely be a target of the Police, and the entire government now that everyone knows he was a fraud. He didn’t need to go back to that. You’d rather keep him here – in your lap, safe and sleepy and warm. Unable to help it, you run your hands through his hair, carding your fingers through the strands and raking your nails against his scalp. It causes him to purr like a cat, the sound entertaining before he buries himself closer to your stomach.

“...Nice.”

“What?”

“Said you smell nice. Smell like my wife.”

The morning sunlight filtered through the car windows, its warmth gently jostling you awake. You blinked blearily, momentarily disoriented as you realized you’d fallen asleep. As you tried to move, you noticed the weight on your lap.

Rintaro was asleep there, his face relaxed and peaceful. The harsh lines of stress and pain that usually marked his features were smoothed away as he slumbers, making him appear younger, almost innocent.

You stared at him for a little longer, captivated by the rare serenity in his expression. Your fingers began to move on their own accord, gently caressing his cheek. His skin was warm under your touch, and you marvelled at how different he looked now. In sleep, he seemed free from the burdens that weighed so heavily on him during his waking hours. But now? Your heart softened as you traced the line of his jaw, wishing you could freeze this moment in time – preserve this fleeting glimpse of the man you had once fallen madly in love with.

You hesitated in waking him up, choosing instead to let him rest a little longer.

Carefully, you reached for your purse, digging through it to find your phone. The screen lit up with several missed calls and a flurry of texts from your parents, their messages frantic and pleading for you to answer and tell them where you were. Amongst the many notifications, messages from Kiyoomi caught your eye. His last message read, “please… please tell me you’re safe.”

Your heart ached at his worry, but another message drew your attention. It was from Kuroo, his message short yet ominous: “Princess, I didn’t write this, but I think you should take a look.”

With shaky hands, you clicked on the link. As the article loaded, your anxiety surged – a cold dread settling in the pit of your stomach. You glanced down at Rintaro, still peacefully asleep, oblivious to the turmoil that awaited you both.

𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥 𝐄𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐤𝐢: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐲, 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐚’𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝

In a dramatic turn of events that has left the kingdom of Inarizaki reeling, the Queen has been seized by government officials following the revelation of her involvement in heinous crimes. The charges against Her Majesty are severe and include conspiracy to commit murder, kidnapping, and fraud. This unprecedented upheaval marks a dark chapter in Inarizaki's royal history. The Queen stands accused of orchestrating the murder of her own husband, the late King, in a desperate bid to retain power. This shocking revelation came to light after a thorough investigation uncovered irrefutable evidence of her culpability. Additionally, it has been revealed that the Queen kidnapped an innocent baby, presenting him as the Crown Prince to solidify her control over the throne. This child, now known as Suna Rintaro, has been living under the false pretense of royal blood. The official charges against the Queen include: Conspiracy to Commit Murder, Kidnapping, Fraud, and High Treason. Government officials have acted swiftly, seizing Her Majesty and beginning the legal proceedings that will determine her fate. The palace is in turmoil as the full extent of her crimes comes to light. As the kingdom grapples with the Queen's treachery, another scandal has emerged, further destabilizing the royal family. Hours after former Princess Iris publicly revealed her true lineage, incriminating photos of Princess Suna, wife of Suna Rintaro, have surfaced. These photos, taken within the privacy of Belleview Manor, show Prince Kiyoomi and the Crown Prince's wife in a compromising and passionate embrace, confirming longstanding rumors of a cross-marriage affair. The scandal does not end there. Additional evidence has surfaced showing Princess Suna meeting with Kuroo Tetsuro, the notorious journalist responsible for exposing Iris and Rintaro’s affair. In these meetings, Princess Suna is seen paying Kuroo substantial sums of money, effectively funding his comfortable life abroad. It is now evident that Princess Suna orchestrated the recent articles that have shaken the kingdom, making her a clear threat and an enemy of the Crown. The public and government officials are now united in their stance: Princess Suna and Suna Rintaro must be stripped of their titles and exiled from Inarizaki. Their actions have sown discord and threatened the stability of the kingdom, and such betrayal cannot be tolerated. As Inarizaki faces this turbulent time, the hope for a restored and honest royal lineage is strong. The kingdom looks to the future, determined to heal and rebuild in the wake of these revelations. This story is still developing, and we will continue to provide updates as more information becomes available.

Panic surged through you as the article’s revelation settled in.

Your breath came in quick, shallow gasps, each one more frantic than the last. You felt your chest tighten,, your heart pounding so hard as if it would burst. Desperation clawed at you, and you knew you had to get out of the car.

As gently as you could, you pushed Rintaro’s head off your lap, careful not to disrupt his sleep. He stirred slightly, but otherwise remained unconscious. You opened the door and stumbled out onto the pavement, your legs barely supporting you as you fell to your knees. The cold, hard ground bit into your skin, but the sensation was distant – the pain faint compared to the panic that was now beginning to consume you.

Your breaths were coming in ragged, uneven bursts now, your vision blurring with tears.

You pressed a hand to your chest, trying to steady yourself as the world spun around you. You knew, without a doubt, that your own Kingdom had already turned against you.

With trembling fingers, you fumbled for your phone. You needed to hear his voice – the one person who could ground you, who could make you feel safe in the midst of all this mess. You found his contact and dialled, holding the phone to your ear with a grip so tight your knuckles turned white. Finally, the call connected, and you breathed out, letting the faint sound of Kiyoomi fumbling in the background like a lifeline.

“Kiyoomi?”

“Thank God you picked up. You weren’t answering any of my calls.”

You closed your eyes, focusing on each word, each comforting tone as you anchored yourself in the present. The world around you began to slow, your breathing gradually evening out. You took a deep, shaky breath, drawing strength from Kiyoomi’s presence, even if it was just through the phone.

“I-I don’t know what to do, Kiyoomi. What’s going on?”

Kiyoomi sighed from the other line. “It’s just as the news said. The Queen is being held by the government to answer for her crimes and you... you’re no longer allowed to return to the Palace. You’ve been deposed.”

“But that’s – that can’t happen. There should be a procedure, a legal procedure before they can strip me off my title!”

“I know, but with everything going on in the country right now, the officials have all decided to skip the formalities and proceed with making any unjust royal family member out of the Palace as soon as possible. You included,” more shuffling rings through the phone, and you hear a car door slamming shut. “But don’t worry, I’m heading out of the Palace right now. Tell me where you are. I’ll come find you.”

Nodding even if Kiyoomi couldn’t see it, you move to send him your location when your phone was suddenly ripped out from your hand. You watched, mouth agape, as Rintaro throws it to the ground and crushes it with the weight of his foot. You scrambled to stand up, fire raging in your veins as you looked at him – Rintaro was now awake, his hair still messed up from sleep, but his eyes were big and bright, like he’d been riding on a high.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I should be asking you that,” Rintaro glared at you, all the previous softness disappearing from his face. “Are you out of your mind? The news said we’re exiled. And you’re just giving our location to Kiyoomi like that?”

“That’s Kiyoomi! I trust him!”

“He’s a Prince, a member of the Royal Family – the same family you’re no longer a part of. I don’t care if you think you can trust him, there’s nothing he can do for you.”

“Oh, but you can do something about it?”

Rin flinched like he’d been slapped. Still, he kept his composure, his hands planted on his hips as he sighed and looked around you. You were nearly in the middle of nowhere – in the outskirts of the city, far from the inquisitive gaze of the Palace. It was almost hard to believe how so much had happened in such a short span of time, but Kiyoomi was right. Iris wouldn’t let it end there. If she was going to fall, she was going to take everyone down with her.

“I can’t help you, but you heard what they said. I’m exiled – I’m leaving this damned country.”

Your husband slammed the car door shut, and began to walk towards his car. “Rin,” you called out to him, taking two steps at a time to match his pace. “Rin, would you please just stop? Let’s talk!”

“There’s nothing to talk about!”

You stopped in your tracks, surprised when he’d turned your away. Rintaro’s face was flushed red, the vein on his neck prominent. “Why are you so angry? Oh, is it because your plans have been ruined and you can’t become King anymore, is that it? Because Iris is gone now, and you can’t have her?”

“Seriously? After all this time, you still can’t get over that?”

The laugh you let out is incredulous. “How can I? You kicked me out of our room a few days ago because you said you wanted to take care of her!”

Rintaro’s face hardens. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Well, thank you so much for telling me, because that totally changes everything,” you throw your hands up in the air, stomping to where he stood just to sneer at his face. “You really expect me to believe you stopped caring about her? The moment your girlfriend was kicked out of the Palace, what did you do? Oh, right. You went to some dingy, ‘exclusive’ anonymous nightclub and got drunk out of your mind. I think its crystal clear you needed a distraction from the pain of losing her.”

Rintaro scoffed, baring his teeth as he takes on your challenge and comes closer, your noses brushing. “What pain? I couldn’t care less that she’s gone. She never loved me anyway.”

“Then why drink yourself half to death last night? You could’ve been in real danger if I didn’t come looking for you.”

“You shouldn’t have, then.”

“A thank you would suffice.”

Rintaro’s face hardens. He takes more steps, forcing you to walk backwards until you were back to where you started – your back hitting the edge of your car. He looms over you, his eyes shining with something you couldn’t decipher. “Why did you look for me, huh? My mistress is gone. She’s out of your hair, and you could’ve had everything you wanted. Why else bother looking for me when all I did was hurt you?”

He practically forces the confession out of you. “Because I was worried about you!”

In an instant, Rintaro’s heat disappears. He flings himself backward like you’d burned him, frowning as he stares you incredulously. Then, he lets out a laugh that sounded more like a pained choke. “You are many things, but I never thought you could be a liar.”

“Liar? What are you talking about?”

He meets your gaze, his eyes cold and daring. “You don’t care about me.”

“Yes, I do!”

“No, you don’t! You know the truth, Y/N. I’m not a Prince – never have been, and never will be. You couldn’t possibly care for a fraud. You know it, too. I’m a nobody, and you were always better than me.”

Rintaro’s words hung in the air, each one landing with a weight that nearly suffocated you. Was that how he thought of you the whole time? That you’d... hated him? Thought of him differently because he wasn’t the King’s son? The very notion left you appalled. The ground beneath you felt like it shifted, your heart clenching painfully at the broken expression he wore. Shame, guilt – it all swam in the dark pools of his eyes, mingling with sorrow as you stared at him.

How could he think that, after everything?

His voice carried defeat, almost as if he wanted you to hate him, as if he believed it would make things easier.

The realization itself twisted something deep inside you. You didn’t hate him – not even close. Maybe you hated what he did, the lies that he’d kept and the facade he’d put on, pretending that he’d loved you when he didn’t. But him not being the King’s son? What did that change? Stood before you was still Rintaro, not Suna, the man you’d adored and cursed from the moon and the back. The thought that he’d been carrying this belief, suffering under it, cut you more deeply than any betrayal. Somehow, this hurt more than finding out he had another.

The fact that this whole time, Rintaro truly believed you looked down on him for not being a Prince. How could he have been so wrong?

The breath was knocked out of you, your shoulders deflating as every muscle in your body softened. “You may not be a Prince, but you’re still my husband. I still care.”

You watched the change in his expression as the words left your lips.

His eyes widened in shock, the disbelief evident against the relief that slowly unfurled across his face. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his chest, his breath catching in his throat. But beneath that relief, confusion lingered, the doubts overshadowing your confession. It was as if he was trying to convince himself that you were wrong, that you should hate him, that your kindness was a mistake.

You could see it all – how Rintaro desperately wanted to believe you, yet he still clung to the pain of his insecurities like it was all he knew.

“If you care so much,” his voice broke as he spoke, “Then why did you kiss Kiyoomi?”

His question struck you like a blow to the chest. The words echoed in your mind, rendering you frozen in place. How could you answer that? How could you justify what you’d done? You could say you didn’t mean it, that you’d regretted it, but that would be a lie. You’d wanted to kiss Kiyoomi. It was a long overdue kiss, and until now, you still wanted to run back into his arms and have him tell you everything would be okay.

And that must show in your face – your blatant infatuation with the Second Prince. Rintaro’s face was a mixture of hurt and confusion as his gaze landed on your lips, probably picturing the way you’d kissed someone else. It made you feel small, like a child caught with their hand deep in a cookie jar. Your mind race, searching for an explanation, a way to make him understand, but all you could feel was the crushing sense of betrayal you’d inflicted on him – on both of you.

The truth was too messy, one that you couldn’t explain yourself. You cared for Rintaro, would do anything to protect him and save him from the mess he’d been tangled in. But you also loved Kiyoomi, loved tangling your hands in his curls, and laying your head on his chest to hear his heartbeat. You would fight a far for your husband, but when that war was over?

You would run straight home to Kiyoomi.

Still, you wanted to reach out. To say something, anything, that would take away the pain in his eyes, but the words were lodged deep in your throat. All you could do was stare at him, realizing too late you had hurt him in a way that might never fully feal.

“So you love him,” he concluded, and when you didn’t refuse, Rintaro nodded to himself – letting the words sink in. One of his hands were planted on his hips, the other fisted on his lip with his brows furrowed. “Was it... was it after I kicked you off to Belleview Manor? Or has it... have you liked him for longer than that?”

Since Itachiyama, you wanted to say, almost apologetically, since the day you kept choosing her over me.

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, a distant rumble interrupted the silence, growing louder and more distinct with each passing second. You barely had time to process it before Rintaro moved, his hand suddenly gripping your arm with a firm urgency.

Rintaro pulled you down, hiding you both behind the car. You followed his lead, heart pounding in your chest as you pressed your face against his back, the creases of his shirt bundled in your palms. Crouched low, the cold pavement pressing against your knees, you watched as he cautiously peeked over the car’s hood, his eyes narrowing in concentration. The sound of engines grew louder, more ominous – like the sound of your end nearing. You dared to peek from above Rintaro’s shoulder until you could make out the distinct patterns of royal emblems on some of the vehicles, followed closely by the flashing lights of police cars.

Fear gripped at you. You could feel your heart pulsing all the way up to your tongue, your breaths coming faster as you glanced at your husband. Rintaro’s expression mirrored your panic, eyes wide and intense.

The vehicles were closing in, fast and steady, like predators hunting their prey. You both knew that your time was running out, that you were no longer Prince and Princess. Exiled. Dethroned. Hunted like the lowly criminals you both were.

Rintaro wasted no time. He yanked you up as gently as he could by your wrist, guiding you into the passenger’s seat before he slammed the door close, and hopped onto the driver’s side. His movements are frantic as he started up the car, letting the engine hum fill the vehicle. “Wear your seatbelt.”

“But Rin, you were just drunk last night–”

The engine roared to life as Rintaro slammed his foot onto the gas pedal. “I’m fine now, and I drive faster than you. You know that. Wear your seatbelt.”

The car lurched forward, tires screeching against the pavement. You felt your body press back into the seat as your heart pounded in time with the racing vehicle. The world outside blurred into a streak of colours as you shot down the road, the cool morning air rushing in through the partially open windows.

You could hear the shriek of sirens behind you, the vehicles in pursuit closing in fast.

Adrenaline surged through your veins, sharp and intoxicating, as your mind raced to keep up with the unfolding chaos. This was real. This was happening. You were no longer just royals entangled in a web of lies and deceit – you were fugitives now, running from a government that once hailed you as symbols of hope and power.

Rintaro’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white as he weaved through the narrow streets with a precision born of desperation. Each sharp turn sent her stomach lurching, the tires skidding dangerously close to the edges of the road. You cried out his name, and Rintaro hissed as he swerved back to safety. You could see the cityscape flashing by in jagged, disorienting bursts – the familiar landmarks rendered alien the further you flew away.

The vehicles behind you were relentless, engines howling as they sped after you with unyielding force. The sirens were deafening, mocking.

You glanced over at Rintaro, seeing the intense focus etched into his features, the slight tremor in his jaw as he pushed the car harder, faster, willing it to escape the grip of your pursuers.

The realization hit you like a physical blow – you were criminals now. Your life of luxury, of duty, and privilege, it was all over. Everything you had known, everything you had believed in, was crumbling away behind you, left in the dust of your panicked escape. There was no going back now, no return to the life you once had. You would have to leave everything behind – the Palace, the titles, your parents, Kiyoomi.

The car swerved violently as Rintaro took a sharp corner, the tires screeching as you fought for traction. The chase had spilled deeper into the outskirts of the city, where the streets were narrower, the buildings older and more decrepit. The vibrant pulse of the city was fading, giving way to a desolate stretch of road that seemed to go on forever, before it disappeared into the horizon like a thin thread of hope.

Beside you, Rintaro’s face was set in grim desperation, his eyes locked on the road ahead as the car surged forward, fuelled by the desperate need to escape. You could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken understanding between you that this was your only chance.

And with that, you accepted your fate.

This was the path you had chosen – no, the path that been forced upon you. The chase continued, the world outside becoming a blur of speed and danger. You braced yourself for whatever lay ahead, knowing that nothing would ever be the same again.

“They’re getting close,” Rintaro said through gritted teeth. One glance at the rear view mirror confirmed your worst fears; they were closing in on you, and that meant the end was nearing. You knew without a doubt that as soon as the government laid their hands on you, everything was over. Rintaro would be exiled, or worse, executed for infiltrating the sacred walls of the Palace – even if it hadn’t been his fault. And you would lose everything, everyone, that you ever cared about. You couldn’t let that happen. “Fuck! I need something to get them off my tail!”

You moved without thinking.

Reaching for the gun secretly stashed in the glove compartment, you quickly rolled the windows down, the upper half of your body carefully sliding out as you unlatched the seatbelt. “Hey!” Rintaro shouted, “What are you doing? Get back! It’s not safe!”

“I’m still the General’s daughter. They won’t shoot,” eyes narrowed, you aimed at the nearest police car who’d been hot on your heels. There was only a few inches left before they could bump into you. “But I will.”

There was no time for hesitation, no room for doubt.

The rush of the wind whipped through the car, pulling at your skin and stinging your eyes. Your finger hovered over the trigger, the world narrowing down to the police car’s tire, spinning so fast it seemed almost like a blur.

You fired.

The crack of the gunshot echoed in your years, the sound so loud it was deafening. You watched as the bullet hit its mark, the tire exploding in a burst of rubber and metal. The police car veered wildly, the driver losing control as the vehicle swerved violently across the road. Then, with a sickening lurch, it tumbled over, metal screeching against asphalt as it rolled, flipping end over end before it crashed into the guardrail. The screech of tires and the crash of metal filled the air as the cars behind it desperately slammed on their brakes, unable to avoid the wreckage. One by one, they collided, a chaotic pileup of twisted metal and broken glass until the entire road was blocked.

You slid back into your seat, your breathing ragged, your chest painfully tight.

Your hands were still shaking, the gun trembling in your grasp. Cold sweat dotted your skin, the adrenaline pumping through your veins as you stared at wreckage left behind you. The pursuing cars had been held back, unable to continue the chase.

The road was clear.

Rintaro pressed down harder on the gas, sending the car forward with renewed speed. The roar of the engine filled the car, its sound fierce and almost primal. You could feel the velocity pulling you back into your seat, your body slamming onto the leather.

As the wreckage disappeared from view, the chaotic noise behind you fading into the distance, you let out a shaky breath. You glanced down at the gun in your hands, the metal still cool against your skin despite the heat of the moment. It had been necessary, but the reality of what you had done settling heavily. You exhaled, trying to calm the trembling in your hands.

Rintaro eyed you from his seat, his jaw clenched before he glanced back at the road. “Do you know what you just did?” You nodded, tears now brimming at your lash line. “You’ve just officially declared that we’re at war with the country. They’re never going to let us go.”

“I know,” you were crying now – the tears unstoppable as you pressed your palms against your eyes. “I know.”

Rintaro was quiet for a moment. So quiet you wondered if he was still there, and he was. The tension never left his face, and he never once slowed down in his speed. But he was calmer, in some ways, his face set into a determined frown. “We can’t go back. We can’t say goodbye to anyone anymore.”

You couldn’t say goodbye to Kiyoomi.

“Where are we going, Rin?”

“Far,” was all he says, and the road that stretched before you suddenly seemed endless. “Far, far away from here where they can’t hurt you.”

“You mean us.”

“Of course,” he stole a quick glance at you, surprising you when you saw how his face had softened. Almost as if he’d already accepted that the life he’d lived was never his, and he had nothing but the future ahead of himself. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise. But if you... if you tell me to turn back, I will. I’ll find a way to get you back to Kiyoomi–”

“No,” you interjected, and Rintaro’s eyes widened. “I... I’m staying with you.”

Rintaro’s eyes scanned your face, looking for the answers. “Are you absolutely certain? You don’t have to, you know. This country can still forgive you, they can love you still–”

“I’m staying with you.”

“Okay,” he nodded, his face unreadable under the faint morning light. “Okay. It’s you and me.”

The decision to leave wasn’t easy.

It clawed at you, gnawed at the very fabric of your being, but you knew – deep down, in the place where love was both cruel and kind – that you couldn’t stay. You wanted to fight, to clear your name and prove to the world that you were innocent, to stand in front of the kingdom with your head held high. You wanted to see your parents again, feel their arms around you, hear their voices assure you that everything would be okay.

But even as these thoughts plagued your mind, they were outweighed by something stronger, something inescapable.

You thought of him – Kiyoomi, the Prince you ended up falling for. The one who’d stolen your heart, not with grand gestures, but with quiet moments, gentle touches, and promises whispered in the dark. You still remembered the warmth of being in his arms, the way he looked at you with eyes that saw through your soul, the comfort you found in his presence, and the future you’d dared imagined together. You had given him his heart when it felt all was too late, and he had given you his the moment you laid your eyes on his. Each one of you were willing to sacrifice so much for the other – it just never occurred to you that you would sacrifice Kiyoomi now.

And it hurt.

It hurt more than you could have ever imagined. The thought of leaving Kiyoomi behind, of crushing the trust he’d given you, of severing the bond you had formed – was a pain so deep it nearly made you want to ask Rintaro to turn back. At least let me say goodbye. Let me look at him one last time. You wanted to stay with him, to choose him, to finally build the life with Kiyoomi that he’d promised, but you couldn’t. He didn’t even have the littlest idea that that had been your last conversation, the last time you’d hear each other’s voices.

Because there was another man – Rintaro, your husband. The one who, despite everything, still held a huge fraction of your heart.

He was the one who needed you now, and he didn’t have anyone else. You’d seen the despair in his eyes, the loneliness that consumed him, the way his eyes didn’t quite match what he said as it held the silent please for you to not abandon him, to not cast him aside like everyone had. You knew him well enough to understand that if you left, he would disappear – not just from the world, but from life itself.

Rintaro would slip away, fade into the shadows, and you would never find him again. You couldn’t let that happen. You couldn’t lose him like that.

So you chose him.

You chose to run away with him, to leave behind everything you’d known, everyone you’d loved. It was a choice born out of duty, of loyalty, and of the twisted love that still tied you to him. It was the right choice, not that it made it any easier. The ache in your heart would remain and scar you forever, haunted by the knowledge you would never see Kiyoomi again, never hold him, never tell him how much he’d meant to you.

It was a loss you would carry with you for the rest of your life.

But you couldn’t do it any other way, couldn’t have gone a different path and not think of Rintaro still. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you’d left him alone, if you let him slip away into the darkness that beckoned him. Even if it meant sacrificing your own happiness, even if it meant leaving behind the one person who’d taught you to love again. You had to choose Rintaro, even if it came with the price of letting everything else go.

So you did.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and made the choice you knew would tear you apart. You ran away. And as the world blurred around you, as you fled into the unknown, hand-in-hand with your husband, you couldn’t stop thinking of the Prince you’d left behind – the man who would always hold your heart in his hands, even if you could never return to him.

“You and me, Rin.”

#suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarou x reader #rintaro suna x reader #kiyoomi x reader #suna x you #suna rintaro x you #kiyoomi x you #sakusa kiyoomi x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #cw: incest #cw: gun #suna rintarou x fem! reader #suna rintaro angst #suna x reader angst

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 10

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, blood, injury, vomiting

A/N: This chapter is admittedly self indulgent. I love Daryl whump and I’ve been kind to him physically for most of the story so far. Not anymore! That being said, I feel like I should have split this into more than one chapter because—to me—the quality suffered because of the length. Anyway, on with the show!

Moodboard by @dannyo000

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

The sun was shining through the open curtains when you awoke. You scowled at the rays but the gentle heat that your skin was absorbing seemed to sooth the irritation. You stretched stagnant muscles, not even venturing to suppress the moan invoked by the action. You let your head fall to the side, finding the opposite margin of the bed empty. Daryl had already left. You shouldn’t be surprised. He was a hunter. Your variety were early risers. Well, you were admittedly a bit of a slacker.

Your stomach felt moderately uneasy but not unmanageable. Hershel must have given you that injection while you slept. Your IV was disconnected and a glass of water sat on the bedside table, this time closest to you. You picked it up after gliding your legs off the side of the bed, taking slow careful sips. You were just placing it back on the table when there was a soft knock on the door.

“Come in?” You weren’t sure if it was Hershel or maybe someone else who lived in the home. It felt odd to invite them into a room that didn’t belong to you.

Carol peeked inside and smiled before opening the door fully to enter, a young blonde girl right on her heels with a glass of something—colorful. “Hi, honey. How are you feeling?” You accepted the woman’s embrace.

“Better.” You smiled reassuringly when she pulled back to get a look at you. “Who’s this? And what’s that?” Carol looked behind herself on one side and then the other before stepping aside.

“I’m Beth. My daddy is the one that helped you.” The girl was just that: a girl. She was older than Carl and Sophia but still a kid. “We made you a fruit smoothie. Patricia says it’s good for you and shouldn’t make you sick.”

You offered her a tight smile and accepted the drink, fearful of not only the taste but the consistency of the thing. You’d never done well with solid things being made into liquids. With an uncertain frown, you took a small sip. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Holy shit, that’s good.” When you took another drink, a smiling Carol put a hand on your arm.

“Go slow.”

You nodded, tilting your head at the pile of clothes in Carol’s arms. “Are those for me?”

“Mhm. Thought you might like to clean up and change.”

“Oh my god, you read my mind.” You took another sip and made a grateful noise that had Beth giggling. “That is really good.”

It was early evening by the time you had showered and decided to venture outside. The nap in between was desperately needed. You were still a little weak from your ordeal.

It was your first glimpse of the land. Beautiful fields with horses and cows out to pasture, while the blue, cloudless sky blanketed it all.

Blue like Daryl’s eyes.

You frowned, shaking your head at yourself. “Where the hell did that come from?” You brushed it off easily and approached the little camp your fellow group mates had set up. It felt odd being around them all without Daryl being somewhere nearby but it wasn’t bad per se.

Lori looked up from the bin of laundry and smiled at you. It was small and you could sense something behind it. Nevertheless, you returned it. It wouldn’t be a horrible thing to get to know everyone better. You made two steps in Lori’s direction before noticing Rick, Shane, T-Dog, and Dale huddled together out of the corner of your eye.

Normally, you’d think nothing of it, except you happened to catch Dale risking a glance in your direction. His expression pinched, concerned. He was quick to look away but it was too late.

“What’s going on?” You asked, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your jeans. The way they all looked between one another spoke volumes. There was something they didn’t want to tell you.

Shane did that thing where he shoved his thumbs through the belt loops of his jeans and looked around at nothing before meeting your eyes. “Nothing for you to worry about, darlin’. We got it under control.”

You couldn’t help but sneer at him. “Don’t call me darlin’ and I can decide if I should worry or not. Rick?” The officers shared a look with Shane shaking his head but Rick seemed to disagree.

“Daryl took a horse out today to look for Sophia.”

You shook your head and raised a brow inquisitively. “Okay?”

“The horse came back. Without him.”

Your stomach dropped before twisting with a feeling of dread. “You’re going out, right?”

“Well, this is Daryl. We’re gonna give him until nightfall and set out first thing in the morning if he’s not back.” Rick explained. The incredulous expression you donned must have been enough encouragement for him to stammer out further explanation. “We can’t risk going out and not making it back before dark.”

“But it’s okay for Daryl—who could be hurt—to be out there alone all night, right? Are you fucking serious right now?” You were finding it increasingly difficult to keep your anger in check or your voice at a low volume.

“Listen, missy, you don’t have a lot of right to say much of anything around here! Let me tell you something—” Shane began. You were having none of it.

“Oh, shove it, Dudley Do-Right!” You hissed. You had spun away and started looking for Daryl’s tent, missing the undoubtedly furious—but comically memorable—expression on Shane’s face. ��I’ll go find him myself.”

You heard Rick’s frantic footfalls before he stepped in front of you, palms out. “Wait, wait, wait. We can’t let you go out there.”

“Let me?”

Dale joined Rick, taking off his hat as he spoke. You weren’t sure why he did it other than maybe attempting to show you some form of respect. “Daryl would be less than thrilled if something happened to you.”

“I thought I didn’t have any rights around here?” You crossed your arms, eyes sliding to the side when you heard someone approaching from behind. When they didn’t move where you could see them, you felt your hackles rise. They must have not been informed that you were also a hunter. “If you touch me, you risk losing a body part.” You spat over your shoulder, venom dripping from every syllable. “And I promise you, it’ll be something you’ll definitely miss.” Shane gave you a wide berth as he circled within your sight, hands up as if he were being detained.

“Look, Y/N, we know that’s Daryl’s baby.” Rick dropped his hands to his sides, bringing one back up immediately to rub at his forehead.

“And how do you know that?” You knew it was a stupid question. The archer hadn’t left your side the entire time you were unconscious. After you awoke, he was at your beck and call: bringing you food, making sure you drank enough, watching over you as you rested.

“You were unconscious. You didn’t see him when he brought you here.” Rick was trying so hard to be nice and you knew he meant it. He was a genuine person.

“He was off the rails! Rantin’ and ravin’ like a lunatic!”

“Shane, you’re not helping.” Rick had tilted his head, directing his statement at his partner but keeping his eyes on the ground at your feet. When he spoke again, his gaze found yours, full of kindness and concern. “We just can’t take any risks.”

Regardless, you would not be deterred. “I’m not asking you to. In fact, I’m not asking at all.” They allowed you to sidestep around them, not following you but you could hear them muttering loudly amongst themselves.

Finding Daryl’s tent was a piece of cake. You used what you knew of him to conclude that he would be the furthest from the rest. Once inside, you found your pack and knives sitting to one side, surprisingly in a neat pile. In fact, the entire space was orderly enough for you to scratch your head and second guess if you had indeed entered the right tent.

His bedroll had not been used, the cot not set up. That made sense. He had spent the nights in the house with you while you recovered. You could still feel the warmth his body gave off even with several inches between you. Damn him for going off alone.

He did have some goodies in his area that you were happy to borrow. Some dried jerky, a length of rope, some extra clothes (for him, just in case), a meager amount of medical supplies (also, just in case), and a flashlight. You’d give it all back. Maybe.

Knives holstered and bag on your back, you bent down to exit the tent, standing to come face to face with Carol and Lori. Throwing back your head, you groaned. “Not you guys, too.”

“Daryl made it pretty clear that the baby is his.” Lori spoke first. “We’re gonna worry.”

“You’re new, but we’re all in this together. Daryl, too. He’s out there looking for my girl, after all.” Carol held out two canteens of water. “Maggie and Glenn aren’t back yet. That shot Hershel gave you isn’t gonna last much longer. You need to stay hydrated.”

Before you could react, Lori handed you two apples and a can of kidney beans. “You need to eat too. Fruit and protein are good for the baby and for nausea.”

“Thank you.” You turned to allow Carol to place the items in your bag, getting caught in a hug on your way back around. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

Carol nodded while Lori took your hand and squeezed. “We’ll handle the men. Go on. Daryl left out that way.” You turned your attention to the direction she pointed and gave a nod, jogging off before anyone could intercept you.

Situations like this were when being a hunter and tracker was beyond beneficial; it could be potentially life saving. Finding the horse’s trail was easy. The shape of the hooves indicated whether the mare was coming or going, as well as the depth, indicating whether or not Daryl was in the saddle.

He had gone some distance, that was certain. Being on horseback allowed him to cover more ground but he gave up the advantage of being close to the paths. It had to be harder to see any trails from horseback. Then again, he was a marksman with his crossbow. He was eagle-eyed for sure.

You had been tracking him for at least an hour, the sun getting lower and lower. Rick and Shane had been right about one thing: Daryl would raze that farm to the ground if he came back to learn you had gone out alone. Still, you had to think he’d find it at least a little funny that no one volunteered to go with you. Big strong manly men letting the petite sickly pregnant woman go in the woods all by her lonesome. You snorted at your own thoughts.

You paused to check the sun’s position in the sky, estimating you had about an hour of daylight left. Even if you abandoned the search and went back at that moment, it would still be dark when you made it. You weren’t hungry, which you considered might be a bad thing, but you were thirsty. Pulling the bag from your shoulders, you crouched to dig through the contents for one of the canteens. It was easily found toward the top.

“Small sips, small sips.” You reminded yourself. You didn’t yet feel nauseated but tempting fate was not an activity you regularly enjoyed. You did enough of that in the woods with Daryl and now had a baby in your belly for your efforts. You were screwing the lid back onto the canteen while simultaneously scanning the tracks you had been following, when you noticed a drastic change. “The horse startled.” You whispered urgently. You were quick to set aside your bag, moving low to the ground to inspect each print. “She reared. Fuck.” The next set of hoof prints were not as deep. “She threw him.”

You stood quickly, ignoring the very slight bout of light-headedness. “Daryl!” You whisper-yelled as loud as you dared. Efficient as you were, you could only handle so many walkers alone. Again, best not to tempt fate. “Daryl!” When you had made a 180, you saw a drop-off. You felt the nausea then, but it had nothing to do with your condition. You placed a palm against a tree, just in case you were to feel any sudden dizziness. You’d rather not topple over and go tumbling down the rocks into the bloody—water. “Oh fuck.”

The red was billowing out into green and yellow clouds in the water, showing it had been there long enough to dilute a substantial amount. “No, no, no. Daryl!” You moved hastily down the edge, following the water hopefully toward land. You had called louder only to be met with silence. Maybe he was out and gone. Back at camp and ready to have your head on a platter for going after him. Maybe he was nearby and would appear momentarily and call you an idiot for being so loud.

Neither of those proved to be the case.

When you spotted the gravelly riverside, you easily found the hunter. The sound you made was somewhere between a sob and a whimper. He was only halfway out of the water, his legs submerged up to his waist. The blood in the water was still a dark red, indicating active bleeding. There was something protruding from his left side that looked suspiciously like one of his bolts. Your first thought was that someone had taken his crossbow and shot him with his own weapon. However, it was lying just above his head, his hand loosely wrapped around it.

You were past the point of thinking rationally. He could be a grade A asshole but he was your baby’s father. That was enough reason to try your best to get him out of the fucked up predicament he had somehow gotten himself into.

It wouldn’t stop you from cursing his name the entire time though.

“How the hell am I supposed to get down there?” You paced the ledge, pulling at your hair. The slope was steep and littered with rocks, limbs, and roots. You couldn’t risk falling. You wouldn’t.

But there was so much blood.

“Think, Y/N!” You crouched down, tapping your fingers against the dirt while willing Daryl to move. To yell. Anything. “When I get you out of this mess, Daryl, I’m going to string you up by—” Your eyes flew wide, a gasp leaving your parted lips. Scrambling back to your bag, you dug through it haphazardly until your fingers wrapped around the rope you’d swiped from his tent. “Yes!”

It probably wasn’t long enough to get you all the way to the bottom but it would do to get you low enough for a fall not to injure you. You’d have to be creative, regardless. You couldn’t rappel down; the length was definitely not enough for that. You also couldn’t tie it to a tree on the ledge either. It would take too much rope. You needed to move down the slope a bit and use one of the tree roots.

Which meant taking a risk.

“I swear if you die, I’m killing you.” You muttered, while shrugging your bag onto your back. Your ass met the dirt somewhat roughly in your haste to get moving. The body could only lose so much blood before—Anyway, you had to go. You moved down carefully, keeping your backside firmly on the ground whilst you prodded rocks and limbs to ensure they would hold your weight. There was a sturdy, sizable root just a few more feet. If it was embedded deep enough, you could use it to get you down safely as well as get you both back up.

You were nearly there when your foot slipped from the edge of a rock. It was easy to right yourself, given how carefully you were moving but it didn’t stop your heart from leaping into your nose. Looking down, you realized you had grabbed your stomach instinctively. With a calming breath, you gave your tummy a pat. “We got this, little thumper.”

The root was easy to get the rope around, secured with a bowline knot. You then loosely secured the end around your waist, high enough not to snap taut around your belly if you were to fall. It’d probably break your back, honestly, but eh, you were optimistic.

You let the slack fall and grabbed on a couple of feet below the knot. “Here goes nothin’.” You started down at a faster pace than before. You couldn’t slide on your ass the whole way, that would take forever.

Daryl didn’t have forever.

You called his name every few seconds, as quietly as you could while being loud enough for him to hopefully hear. You made about three-fourths of the way down when you heard a familiar sound that made your blood freeze. Your head snapped up to some foliage across the riverbank, panicked eyes zeroing in on the walker making a beeline for the same figure you were trying to make your way toward.

“Hey!” You shouted. You waved an arm frantically but the stench of blood had the corpse’s entire focus. “Goddamnit!” With no alternative, you ripped off your flannel and put it between your hands and the rope. Bracing your weight mostly on the root above, you stood slightly and all but ran down the slope. Each time you misstepped, you threw your weight onto the rope. It would sling you sharply but with nowhere else to go, you could get right back to the descent.

Unfortunately, the rope eventually ran out.

Eyes on the walker getting entirely too close to Daryl, you scrambled to untie the line. “Fuck!” The corpse had dropped to its knees and was crawling the last few feet. You yanked your knife from the holster and cut yourself free in a single swipe, barreling toward the water. “Get away from him!”

It finally noticed you, looking your way while Daryl’s arm was in its rotten clutches. Your knife sank into its skull with ease. As much as the smell made you gag, you grabbed the thing as it toppled and pulled. You couldn’t let it fall into the water. Not with Daryl having an open wound.

Panting through tears, you freed your knife and crawled toward the archer. If you had been one second later, he’d have been bitten. The way that thought devastated you down to your very soul frightened you. You checked his arm first, just to be sure. No bites. No scratches. There was no time to revel in that relief. You stopped to brush your fingertips over a cut above his right temple. From the fall, you surmised.

The most concerning injury was that it was indeed his bolt impaling his side and it seemed to have gone all the way through. “Damnit, Daryl, what happened?” You felt lost, hands hovering while your chest began to tighten with the all too familiar heaviness of impending panic. “No, you can’t freak out. You cannot freak out.”

First thing was first. You had to get him out of the water. He would be lucky if bacteria hadn’t already seeped into his wound. You could only pray that Hershel had antibiotics in his possession.

You shed your rucksack close to a nearby tree. The area would give you a view of the entirety of your surroundings. With Daryl injured, you would need to remain vigilant. You were responsible for the safety of three now.

Moving him would be difficult. It would be pulling dead weight, and was most definitely over the weight limit a pregnant person should be messing with. But you didn’t have a choice.

“Okay, little thumper. You just be strong in there while I get your dumbass father out of this mess.”

It was a struggle to get him angled on his right side. You couldn’t drag him flat and risk disturbing the bolt lodged in his skin. Hands tightly gripping his forearms, you began to pull, your boots sliding in the gravel. It was going to be quite the journey but you were moving him little by little.

With a strained grunt, you paused and leaned forward to put your hands on your knees to catch your breath. Just as you leaned forward to grab hold of him again, a cold slimy hand grabbed onto your bicep, yanking you back. How had you not heard the walker approaching? Wasn’t pregnancy supposed to heighten your senses?

“Fuck!” You grappled with the corpse of a man, finding it tough to keep his clicking teeth away from your arm. He was pushing you back easily but you couldn’t let go to get to your knife. One wrong move would result in a chunk being ripped from your arm. Your muscles were tiring, being pushed to their limit. To make matters worse, you could see another walker shambling its way toward the scrap. There was no hope of fending off two of them.

You cried out in frustration and lifted your foot to connect the toe of your boot roughly with the corpse’s knee, causing it to stumble. You had one shot. With your forearm pressing into its throat, you were able to grab your knife and sink the blade into the soft skull with a sickening squelch. There was no time to catch your breath as the second one slammed into your side and took off your feet.

Your legs were pinned under its body, forcing you to battling at an awkward angle to stave off its attempts to rip into your thighs. Your knife was within reach, but grabbing it meant one side would be vulnerable.

“Goddamnit! Get off me, you decaying bastard!”

The walker shifted and gave you the opportunity to bend your right knee and place the sole of your boot against its abdomen. A solid kick forced it back. You were free to scramble backward and grab your knife, but when you lifted it to strike, you spotted another walker crawling toward you, its empty eyes giving you a glimpse of your fate. Ripped open, half eaten only to rise again; mindless and starving for a taste of flesh.

This was it. You’d done all you could. You’d fight them to the death but they had you. It was only a matter of time before—

A bolt pierced the second walker, entering through its temple. It landed in the dirt with a dusty thud. You knew exactly what had happened and once the last walker was dead, you would survey the damage. You flung yourself forward and drove your knife through its right eye. It fell still, its weight heavy on your lap.

“Goddamnit, Daryl!” You exclaimed.

The hunter was on his knees at the water’s edge, swaying dangerously. The left side of his body was now void of the bolt, rivulets of blood dripping from his saturated shirt. His crossbow fell from his grip as he pitched forward to land on all fours.

“Shit.” You wiggled free from beneath the walker, sheathing your knife before dropping to your knees beside Daryl. You laid a gentle hand on the middle of his back. “Hey, let’s get you over there so I can take a look at you.”

“Who—came with—you?” He asked breathlessly, his head remaining bowed as if he just didn’t have the strength to lift it. Hell, he probably didn’t.

You knew he wouldn’t like the answer. You hated to upset him but you wouldn’t lie. “I came alone.” He visibly tensed, fingers digging into the dirt and rock below him.

“Why—the fuck—would ya do that?”

“Because the horse came back without you. Because our baby needs their father.” You reached for his bicep and pulled him up onto his knees so that you were able to put his arm across your shoulders. “Because I was worried about you.”

He gave you a look from the corner of his eye, his head still hanging. “S’a shit reason—to risk the—two’a ya.”

“Did you miss the other two reasons?” You shot back, getting your legs under you so you could lift him without pulling your back or stomach. “Selective hearing, I swear. On three: one. Two. Three!” You managed to get you both upright, but Daryl was quick to curl forward with a sound much too close to a whimper for your liking. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“S’fine. Just—” He trailed off with a languid wave of his hand. You took that to mean he was ready to move and began the short walk to the tree. It didn’t take long but he was somehow even more pale and sweating by the time you helped lower him to recline against the trunk. “Found—found her doll.”

“What?” You weren’t really listening. With his shirt pulled up, you could get a good look at the wound. It was still bleeding sluggishly, but still far too much for your liking. “Did you really pull out that bolt?” You asked while leaning around him to see the back as best you could.

“Y’ain’t—ain’t listenin’.” The hunter gave you a weak shove, barely moving you at all. “Found—Sophia’s doll.”

“She was here.” Looking around, you saw nothing and you would not leave him to go track. “Where’s the doll?” Daryl jutted his chin toward a downed tree that was close to the shallow water. Even going that meager distance from him felt like you were leaving him unprotected. However, you knew he would hound you until you obliged his request.

You jogged over, your muscles tired and stomach beginning to feel ill at ease. Sure enough, there laid the doll. You snatched it up and returned to him, taking a moment to place the toy in your bag and pull out supplies.

“How did this happen?”

“Fell—fell on it.”

“Graceful.” You smirked, ignoring the weak middle finger lifted toward you. “Let’s get this bleeding under control and get back to the farm.” You raised his shirt again but this time he seemed to take notice and went rigid.

“It’ll keep, just leave it.”

Your mouth gaped. “You can’t be serious.” You admonished him. “I’m not sure you noticed but there is a literal hole in your side. We can’t go back without some sort of treatment first.” His usually bright blue eyes were cloudy when he looked at you. “It’s nearly dark. Stop arguing with me and let’s get this done.”

“Ain’t enough—time to—get back tonight.”

“We can’t stay here, Daryl. We’re sitting ducks.” You started grabbing other things you needed even as he tried to talk you out of it: food, water.

“I can. Go on—back. Come back—back tomorrow—with help.” He winced when he pressed a palm against the wound so he could shift to a more comfortable position.

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Y/N, s’not—”

“I said no, Daryl.” You reached for his shirt again and he didn’t stop you but there was a panicked undertone in his eyes. “Just far enough for me to see the wound, okay?” A visible relief; his shoulders dropped and he let his head fall back against the tree.

The bleeding had slowed, showing signs that it was beginning to clot. That was great news but it didn’t replace all he had already lost. The wound needed a proper cleaning and stitches, both of which you were not well equipped. You could handle it if you had the supplies. You’d sewn yourself up plenty of times.

With a sigh, you got up to fetch your flannel from where you’d left it near the rope. You were already tearing it into strips before you returned to Daryl’s side. You tried to be as quick as possible; taping down gauze, folding pieces of your flannel to press over those. Lacking enough to make a compression bandage, you tied pieces of material together.

“Almost done.” You had to lean into his space to pull the makeshift bandage around his back. His tired eyes flitted back and forth between yours while you found yourself glancing at his lips. You cleared your throat and sat back on your heels. “This is gonna hurt but just try to be as quiet as you can.”

Daryl watched you for a moment and then nodded. He visibly tensed and closed his eyes a mere moment before you pulled the material tight around the wound. To his credit, he merely grunted but the hard lines of pain on his face told a different story.

“There. That’s the best I can do right now.” You were beyond concerned. The thought of spending the night there with the archer being so grievously wounded was intimidating. You knew there was no other choice. One of the canteens was on the ground beside you where you had placed it when grabbing out supplies. If he was going to stand any chance of surviving, Daryl had to cooperate. This should be fun. “I need you to drink some water. You’ve lost a lot of blood. We have to keep you hydrated until we can get out of here.”

“Nah.” Much to your chagrin, he turned his head. “Ya need—it more—than I do.” He was beginning to look dazed, fighting off the overwhelming urge to allow his body to rest.

“Stop being a brat and drink the water.” You pressed the canteen to his lips, dropping your mask to wear your concern like a second skin. “Please. I promise I have enough for me too.”

You thought he might argue or once again refuse, but he finally parted his lips with a sigh. You tilted the canteen, flinching when his much too cold hand covered yours to help control how much he was getting.

“I need to build a fire. Keep it small.” You weren’t really talking to him but he hummed in response anyway. He was cold and clammy. You’d bet money that would be worthless in that world that if you checked his pulse, it would be racing. “I think you’re going into shock. I need to get you warm.”

“M’fine.” His voice was quiet, too drained to offer up a convincing tone.

You went about gathering what you could find that could hold the highest possibility of burning. “You know what, keep telling yourself that. Maybe your stubbornness will pay off.” Placing some rocks down so you could control the flames, you placed your tinder bundle in the center along with some sticks and wood chips for kindling. You had to do this the old fashioned way. Daryl was watching you with slow blinks as you went about your method.

You thanked whatever deity that was listening for your experience in the wilderness. You were nurtured by the woods growing up. The trees were like family, offering shade, protection, and a means of warmth or preparing your meals. You had learned the ways to survive. Granted, back then, walking corpses that wanted to eat your intestines weren’t a thing. Scared as you were, you knew you could make it. You could make it. But now, you had to keep Daryl alive as well.

“Finally.” You sat back with a smug grin, watching the fire burn. You just hoped it would be enough. “Come on, let’s get you settled closer to the fire. Then I’ll heat the beans I have. Daryl swatted at your hands.

“M’fine here.”

You huffed through your nose. “No, you’re not. Your skin is freezing. I don’t have any blankets. We need to keep you warm.”

“Fine.” He began to lever his way to his feet, growling with annoyance once you swooped in to help him. “Can do it—can do it myself.”

“Shut up and let me help.” You didn’t let go and he didn’t try to force you. He was panting by the time you lowered him down to lie on this back. He couldn’t be comfortable. “Um, one second.” There wasn’t a lot left of your flannel but you could make it work. Folding it to the best of your ability, you gently lifted his head and placed the article beneath it. As an afterthought, you pulled the clean shirt you had grabbed for him and draped it over his upper half. It would have to do for the time being. “Okay, just rest and I’ll wake you for some food and water in a bit.”

Hours passed agonizingly slowly. You had tried to get Daryl to eat but he had refused. At least he drank the water. You yourself had eaten a third of the can of beans. Everything seemed to be going alright until you found yourself regurgitating into the bushes. Your stomach was turning inside out, now rejecting even the water.

Carol had warned you this would happen but you couldn’t wait. You didn’t regret it either. Daryl would have surely died had you not gone in search of him.

Wiping your mouth on the back of your hand, you staggered back toward the fire. You were steps away when you realized that Daryl was—talking. And not just talking, but conversing. There’s no one there.

It felt wrong in some ways to move closer; to be able to hear him. It was as if a person was sitting right next to him. Daryl’s eyes were open; mere slits but open.

“Screw you.”

“A girl. They—lost a little—girl.”

“Shut up.”

“Tried like hell—to find ya, bro.”

Bro? Daryl had a brother. It was unknown if he was alive or dead. You only knew from Carol. Daryl never let you that close. He was hallucinating which was bad. Very bad. You took a step forward, ignoring your stomach’s protests for the time being. Should you wake him?

“We went—back for ya. Rick an’ I, we—did right by ya.”

“I ain’t nobody’s bitch.”

“Don’t talk—’bout her like that. Y/N—she’s—diff’rent.”

Wide eyes blinked. He was talking about you. Granted, it was during a moment of psychological weakness but still. It felt even more wrong to allow it to continue.

“I ain’t gonna be—like our daddy. My kid—ain’t gonna be like us. Like you or me.”

Your heart ached for him. You knew nothing about Daryl’s childhood but now you knew it wasn’t pleasant. Shaking your head, you kneeled next to his arm and placed a hand against his cheek. No fever. This had to be coming from the head injury. “Daryl.” He seemed to be looking right through you. Still, he lifted a hand and let the back of his knuckles brush along your jaw.

“See, Merle? Told ya—she was diff’rent.” His hand fell away, blue eyes disappearing behind heavy lids.

“Daryl?” You said urgently, fingers searching along his neck for a pulse. It was there, albeit a little fast but there. You felt weak and allowed yourself to fall back onto your ass, scooting until your back was against the tree.

From what Carol had told you, Daryl’s brother was vile. He was toxic and the younger Dixon had changed slightly without his influence. She had said Daryl was brash and intimidating, preferred to be alone. Hated to be touched. Yet he had sought out your company twice a week like clockwork. He had talked to you, brief and unimportant statements and questions, but he had talked. He had let you touch him. Intimately.

“She’s—diff’rent.”

It was dangerous to let your mind wander down the paths it had created from his simple words to a brother who wasn’t there. But let it wander, you did. Maybe Daryl didn’t just care about the baby. Maybe he was impertinent toward you because you had gotten too close. Maybe you had managed to penetrate the walls he had built to protect himself.

Maybe—just maybe—you had allowed him to pass through your own defenses.

And that was more terrifying to you than any walking corpse in a dystopian world.

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fairlyang · 1 year ago

Text

Summer Lovin’ 🕷️

in which you have a little summer romance fling

w/c: 3.9K

pairing: greaser!miguel x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. exhibitionism, making out, sucking on tits, eating out, fingering, praise kink, blowjob. mention of face sitting, overstimulation, 69, eating pussy underwater (LMAO), spilling the tea x2

notes: reposting my precious baby, my fav, my grease au series!! might post part two after this idk but I’m writing part 3 and I’m excited :D 🤝🏼

part two — part three

You had spent almost your entire summer in California, and being from the Midwest you took advantage of the hot weather and beaches.

You had stayed at your aunt's house along with your parents but not your older sister who apparently didn't wanna "burn to a crisp" but you didn't mind. In fact you loved feeling the sun on your skin and spent most of your days on the beach.

Your sister had teased you about a summer fling and maybe you'd meet someone but won't be able to bring them back. You called bullshit and said you weren't out searching for that kinda thing.

That was until you met him.

Miguel O'Hara.

One day you were reading a book on the beach under an umbrella when a guy came up to you and you were a little shell shocked looking at him. He was gorgeous. So handsome.

He asked what you were reading which made you laugh because he did not look like the reading type. He wore a black leather jacket and his hair slicked back, you can imagine reading is not one of his things.

And who the hell wears a leather jacket in the hot weather?

But nonetheless you still answered and he just nodded along probably pretending he knew what you were talking about.

"Well I came over because I thought you were gorgeous." He says giving you a wide smile, showing off his crooked pearly whites.

You chuckle and close your book, leaving it on your lap, "oh I bet a guy like you says that to all the girls." You say playfully rolling your eyes and he shakes his head.

"Only to the really special ones." He responds sweetly and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

And with that you were sold.

Almost too easy.

But it felt real.

Genuine.

You had spent the first three weeks of August with Miguel. Splashing around, building many sand castles, playing volleyball. Tanned while getting to know each other, had little picnic dates on the beach.

It was so surreal to you and he was such a gentleman.

But on the third week was when he was more flirty than usual, always touching you subtly like grabbing your hand or having his arm around your waist.

He would even twirl you around as you walked along the sand which just had you laughing as you tried not to fall.

One specific time he wrapped his arms around you as you watched the sun set, the waves lightly hitting your feet. He gently trailed his fingers along your waist making you turn to look at him, he was already looking at you, with a mischievous look on his face if anything.

He then leaned down, letting his forehead lean against yours, "you're so beautiful."

You smile and feel your body grow warm, "you're not too bad yourself Miggy."

He then let go of you and stood in front of you, bringing a hand up to gently cup your cheek. His eyes were sparkling and he just looked so handsome up close.

The pink, orange, and yellow rays of the sun hitting the sides of your faces as he looked down at your lips. He couldn't help himself.

And he knew he'd never see you again after this considering you'd have to fly back home so what's a little fun on your last week here?

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer which only makes him chuckle, "no patience huh?" He teased and you shrugged.

"We only live once... and we might as well while we're young.." you say and lean up, pretty eyes boring into his.

He was quite shocked that you were the one making the moves but he wanted to be the one to actually do it.

So he did.

He leaned in and kissed you gently, you instantly kissed back and you swore you could feel fireworks erupting in your stomach. It felt so right. So nice.

He nipped on your bottom lip to which you then return as you feel his hands exploring your body. You felt them snake their way down your back then staying by your lower back.

Then you felt them slowly trickling lower to which you had to pull away and shake your head, "eager hm? No patience huh?" You mock and he snickers.

"Couldn't help myself doll." He murmurs and pecks your lips softly.

You melted back into his arms and kissed back before he pulled away and then leaned in to peck your lips again. He repeated this until you burst into fits of giggles which had Miguel ignoring the effect it made on him and pulled away, grabbing you by the hand as you went back to walking on the sand.

Things only progressed throughout your last week.

He snatched more kisses from you until the sun was gone and you had to go home.

The next day he had you on his lap and making out with you while his hand was trailing around your thigh. Only testing the waters.

But also playing around with you.

You were a good girl, not ever looking for trouble like this. But it seemed to have found its way to you.

And you couldn't help but want to open yourself up more to him, maybe not just kisses.

At least those were your thoughts when you were in bed, daydreaming about him.

You met up again on the third day and decided to maybe go a little further. Just a tiny bit.

So you were on his lap again, making out when you start to slowly grind yourself on him. He moaned into your mouth and it only made you grow more excited but you didn't want to push yourself too much.

And he was okay with that.

His hands were on your waist helping you move as his tongue explored your mouth. Gotta love a man that can multitask.

You moved faster and could feel his bulge grow hard beneath you. It made your skin feel hot and deep down you wanted to take it forward but also knew you probably shouldn't.

"Miguel-" you breathed out and pulled away but he latched his lips on your neck, kissing harshly against your skin.

You bite your lip and he made you continue your movements as he hummer onto your skin. "I- I-I think- maybe we s-should st- fuck-" you stutter and moan as he sucks on your neck then pulls away peppering the hickey in kisses.

"What were you saying doll?" He asks and kisses down your chest.

That day you decided to wear a bikini top with some shorts, clearly he appreciated that right now as he kissed your cleavage, bringing a hand up to squeeze your left breast. You moan and feel your eyes flutter, already losing your train of thought.

"W-We shouldn't do this here-" you breathe out but it didn't matter, he was already pulling your bikini top up.

"Miguel!" You squealed trying to cover yourself and looking around but it was vacant.

"There's nobody out here, you know we've been having this side of the beach all to ourselves for weeks." He murmurs and gently moves your hands away.

"So beautiful." He murmurs before squeezing both tits and latching on to your left nipple.

You bit your lip and held onto his head, you couldn't even blame yourself. You knew you wanted this. And that heat going straight to your core was the proof.

He pulled away and immediately sucked on your right breast, pinching your left nipple making you shift on his lap. He moaned against you and you almost forgot he was already hard. Almost.

It was kind of hard to forget since you were directly on him.

So you began to slowly grind on him again making him groan as you moved your hips back and forth. He pulled away and breathed out, "Just like that angel."

Your face flushed and you put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as you continued your pace. "Good, good girl." He murmurs before sucking on your left breast, leaving yet another mark.

A moaned escaped your lips and you can see a smirk on his when he pulled away. He looked up at you and pecks your lips before pulling away and taking you off his lap and setting you to his right side on the shared blanket.

He then moved down your body, hands already undoing the button and zipper of your shorts. You lift your ass up and he slides your shorts off setting them to the side.

He then gets between your legs, kissing and squeezing your thighs and he neared where you so desperately needed him. He kissed your left inner thigh then moved to the right side to do the same.

He then went down and looked at the soaked spot on your panties, nearly drooling. "Look at you doll, already so wet." He murmurs looking up at you before leaning in and leaving the softest kiss on your clit.

You moaned and bucked your hips forward but his strong arms kept you in place which only made you whine. But he didn't care.

He was going to go at his own pace. Just like you did when you were on his lap.

Even if he technically was making you a move a bit.

But still.

He gently moved your panties to his right side as you squirmed, whining above him but he ignored you to pay all his undivided attention to your gorgeous sopping cunt. "Oh baby this all for me?" He murmurs and you feverishly nod.

He tuts and smirks looking up at you, "such a dirty girl. Thought you were a sweet innocent good girl?" He teases only making you grow more wet by the second.

"God you're so perfect." He coos before diving full on in to your cunt, immediately getting a taste of how sweet you are.

You moan and bring a hand down to pull his closer already. You needed him so badly and didn't want to waste more time.

And he could tell.

He didn't mind, given how he started lapping at your folds and his nose practically buried in your clit. "Miguel-“ You moan out and he hums sending a vibration of pleasure curse through your body.

You look down at him and buck your hips forward, this time he doesn't stop you, letting you grind your perfect cunt against his mouth. His mouth went up and down your slit, slurping up your juices as you continued your melody of pretty moans for him.

He looked into your ears as he came up and flicked his tongue on your clit earning himself more moans. He brought his hands up and intertwined them with yours as you bucked your hips against his face, grinding yourself against his tongue. "Shit- feels so good Miggy." You moan and he hums against your cunt.

He moans and lets go of your left hand, bringing his right hand to start teasing your hole with the tip of his finger. He pulls away, lips glistening from your slick making you smile as he licks your arousal off. "Need more doll?" He coos and you nod.

"Yes- yes please Miguel." You whimper and he nods, shoving his middle finger inside you.

You groan and your walls clench against his digits as he starts fucking you hard. "Oh fuck!" You moan and grip your right hand against his.

"Feel good angel?" He asks softly and you nod with an almost drunken smile.

"So pretty baby." He mutters and then slides in his second finger immediately pounding his digits into you.

You let out a loud moan and try to close your legs but he quickly let go of your hand and spread them open. "Too much already doll?" He mocks making you whimper.

His fingers were much thicker than yours and you haven't had any other fingers inside you besides your own. At least in a long time.

"Look at you taking them so well." He says and looking at your cunt just sucking his fingers in.

He then shuts up and brings his mouth back to your clit, tongue flicking on your nub while his mouth sucks harshly. Your body was getting hotter and your legs were shaking as you kept them wide open for him. "Fuck!"

His praises only continued and drove your mind wild, and just like that you found out you had a praise kink. And he used that to his advantage.

Mumbling as many praises to you seeing just how much more wet you'd get for him as well seeing how long it'd take for you to just cum off his praise.

And it didn't take long for you to feel your orgasm approach before quickly taking over and your climax hit as he was calling you his good girl.

You let out cries as you came and clenched on his fingers, entire body shaking as he fucked you slowly letting you ride your high.

As soon as your breathing calmed down and he slipped his fingers out of you, you sat up and got him to sit in your position. "C'mon your turn pretty boy." You coo and he chuckles but moves so anyway.

And without another word you laid down between his knees and undid his shorts as fast as you could. You slid them off his legs and left them on top of yours before slipping his cock out of his boxers. You left those on and just started stroking him.

You lean in and lick his tip, tasting his precum and swallowing every drip then spit on the tip and letting it drip down before stroking him again. He let out a shaky breath and you looked up at him with innocent eyes that drove hims absolutely insane. "You look so pretty." He murmurs making you squeeze your thighs together.

You then took him in your mouth, slowly bringing your head down at first not thinking you'd be able to take all of him considering how thick he was but you were slowly getting there. Only took a few minutes to take half of him before he put his hands on your head and made you take him deeper.

You were gagging against him which only made him thrust his hips into your mouth making you take all of him. You closed your eyes already feeling them fill with tears but you fought through it and took him all the way feeling his happy trail hit your nose.

You pulled away and gasped, panting but then slipped him back into your mouth and letting him do it again but for a longer period of time.

Soon enough you felt him twitch in your mouth as he was deep in your throat. You closed your eyes, breathed through your nose and prayed for the best.

He groaned and his legs shook beneath you as he shoots his load down your throat. You swallowed as much as you could but it was too much so you pulled away and let it fall in his thighs. You start stroking him slowly which makes him whine as his cock twitched at the sudden contact but yet more cum continued shooting out.

"Oh fuck!" He moans as you stroke him and go down to clean it up with your tongue.

You made sure to lick off every drop before finally taking your hand off him and taking notice he was breathing heavily. "Holy shit-" he mutters and grabs your face, bringing you in for a kiss.

You kiss back and he slides his tongue into your mouth, getting a taste of himself which only made you weak in the knees.

He then pulled away and gave you a sheepish grin, "that was- do you really have to leave?" He says and you laugh.

"Sadly. But I still have a few days left!" You say and he chuckles before bringing you into his chest as you both looked up and see a few twinkling stars above you.

And you used those days up to the best of your ability.

Now you told him the one exception was you didn't want to fuck, not there at least.

So the following day he had you wear a dress and made you sit on his face. And he made sure to emphasize "sitting down" because he wanted to feel all your weight on him.

You were scared you'd crush him but he said that'd just be the most badass way to die which only made you slap his arm. But you ended up sitting on his face and it was the best thing you'd ever tried.

You ended up like that for a good few hours before your poor pussy grew tired and you were just so overstimulated.

So you ended up making out until the sun set and you gave him a handjob as well.

The next day was your second to last day before you'd leave and he wanted to try out 69-ing to which you didn't complain about. He had already grown so use to eating you out and did not grow tired of it at all. And he loved hearing your moans, feeling your body shaking.

So he couldn't complain either.

That same day he had the brilliant idea of trying to eat you out underwater, you told him he'd actually die if he did that but he claimed he could hold his breath for a while.

Well it felt weird for both parties and he nearly drowned so that wasn't worth it. But you then stroked him while hiding behind a big rock then you got down to your knees so he could cum on your face.

And finally on your last day you sat next to each other and touched each other until you both came at the same time.

Prior to that you were just spending time together for the final time. He wanted you both to cum as the sun set. How romantic.

As you both got up and got dressed you sighed, sad that your little summer fling would come to an end.

And unfortunately never getting the chance to actually have him fuck you. But nothing lasted forever.

So after the final make out session you both pulled away breathless and you felt sad. But also happy it happened at all. And that you got to meet him.

"If it's meant to be I'm sure you'll get to go all the way in the future." You joked making him laugh and smile.

"Hopefully doll, I'm sure you feel absolutely amazing." He murmurs and you slap his arm before shrugging and giving him a sly wink finally walking away to never see him again.

Or so you think.

Your parents ended up giving you the grand surprise that you weren't actually leaving. You were moving to California.

And the reason your sister didn't come was because they actually gave her the house and her boyfriend was going to move in.

Why they didn't think of telling you before? Who knows but now you were gonna be living here and they made you enroll in the nearest university.

Somehow you got in just in time for classes to start to. You didn't have high hopes in seeing Miguel considering he'd told you a couple times he didn't really like university and wasn't really thinking about going back.

And you weren't sure in telling him you weren't going back after all. Especially considering you just had a couple good summer nights together.

So you didn't give it a second thought and just decided that's all it would be. A summer fling.

Not like you had much choice considering you didn't have any way of contacting him anyway.

You ended up going to your first day of uni and met two lovely girls outside who immediately helped you out. Frenchy and Sandy.

They were so sweet and led you to your classes, even having a few with both of them surprisingly.

You ended up having the same schedule layout and you all ended up going to the large dining hall to get something to eat.

You were then introduced to their other three girl friends, Rizzo, Marty, and Jan. Frenchy explained their little group were called the pink ladies which you thought was cute. They all had matching jackets as well.

Suddenly a girl named Patty comes along and the trio roll their eyes and groan. You pretend you don't notice and just take a bite out of the macaroni you got before she sat down next to you and started blabbing about who knows what.

Then Frenchy, a godsend angel, turned to you and asked you how your summer was.

"It was good! Spend most of my time at the beach. Might've met someone there..." you say and Patty beside you giggles but Rizzo just scoffs.

"Laying all your eggs in one basket? For some guy?" She asks and you shrug.

"He was... special." You say and she gives you a fake smile.

"There is no such thing hun." She says and you sigh looking at Patty. "It was so romantic."

On the other end of campus, on some bleachers, the self proclaimed 'T-Birds' were also asking Miguel how his summer went. But he had already told them that he met a girl.

But unlike your reminiscing of the romantic portion of your days together, his friends' immediate thoughts went to the more explicit portion...

"You don't wanna hear all the horny details." Miguel teases and all the guys gather around him yelling at him that they absolutely do.

So you both ended up spilling what you wanted to reveal except you kept your mouth shut on your exhibitions, not wanting to say too much about that.

On the other hand Miguel gave them every dirty detail possible. But for him he couldn't bring himself to tell his friends about the romantic side of how things went.

No way in hell was he going to admit those kinds of feelings in front of the guys. And mostly because they all just fucked around. Even though he knew he felt something besides just when things switched to the dirty side.

And thus you both reminisced on your favorite parts of your time together not knowing you were both on the same campus. Soon enough you'd both run into each other shocked but for now you stayed in your respective friend group.

As you walked out of the dining hall and to your last class Jan asked, "so what was his name?"

"Miguel O'Hara." You replied and her eyes widened as her and Marty burst into giggles but Rizzo smacks them to shut up.

"If you believe in miracles I'm sure Prince Charming will show up again some day. Somewhere unexpected." She says and gives you a smile.

"Think so?" You ask and she nods, grinning ear to ear as the other two girls follow her giggling their heads off.

"Oh you think so Frenchy?" You ask turning to the redhead and she avoids your gaze, awkwardly laughing and grabbing your arm.

She gives Sandy a look before Sandy links with your other arm, "how about we get to class yeah?" She says to you and you nod, questioning what the hell was going on.

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ode2cheol · 1 year ago

Text

i want to spend this whole night with you ..

doctor!seungcheol x reader 4.3k words, fluff, minor angst, some jealousy, reader has a broken ankle, this is probably incredibly inaccurate.. based off the one week i spent doing work experience at a hospital, part of waves will take us far away series !

when you’d managed to wind up in the hospital for breaking your arm you were dreading it more than anything, that is until you were assigned to the young doctor who found you too pretty to ignore.

“mom i told you it’s fine. it’s probably just a little sprain it’s been worse before” there was honestly no point in trying to reason with your mother over the phone like this, you know she’d never give in.

you had to admit it did warm your heart hearing the concern in your mother’s voice, but not enough to convince you to head to the hospital. yes, your ankle felt like it was two minutes away from practically falling off of your limbs but you would’ve rather that than spend the next week in the hospital and the next few months having to go to regular check-ups.

“honey, nothing is going to happen to you at the hospital, please stop being paranoid. look, if you leave it any longer your it’ll probably get worse, you’re better off getting it done with now”

she had a point. if you put this off you might wind up having to stay there even longer. a deep breath escaped you as you nodded to yourself, “alright sure i’ll head to the hospital then”

limping as you got out of the taxi and through the hospital doors, you cringed at both the pain and the chemical scent of artificial fragrances hitting your nose. you rubbed the hand sanitizer into your hand while you both stood in a queue for the receptionist desk. two minutes and you already want to go home. great.

“yes, how can i help you?” the receptionist smiled at you, fingers already getting ready to search your name in the system.

“uh hi i booked an appointment for a sprained ankle” you told her handing over your ID.

the receptionist scanned it for a few seconds, the quick clicking of the keys catching you a little off guard. after you’d confirmed the details for her she handed you a small note with the room and doctor name.

you limped walked down the hospital wards, wincing while you searched for the room you were supposed to be in. the hospital was a lot busier today- at least compared to the last time you visited. to be fair that was at least two years ago so you wouldn’t know if this was considered busy anymore.

double checking the room number, you knocked the door pushing it open when, you’re assuming, dr lee let you in. he gave you a cheerful smile, motioning you to the seat while he took his own behind the computer.

“hi miss yn, you said you were here for a sprained ankle?” he waited for your nod, “no problem we just need to run a few tests to see how bad it is, if you’re fine you can be on your way within the hour”

the thought immediately lifted your mood. you spent the next few minutes going through the tests with dr lee, wincing whenever he touched a certain part of your ankle, feeling bad whenever he apologised profusely. he looked confused for a few seconds, checking back on the notes he was given on you, “miss, i’m afraid this isn’t a sprained ankle. from the looks of it i think it may be fractured, we’re going to have to run an x-ray”

he left the room for a few minutes to get everything for the x-ray ready, giving you a few minutes to wallow in your self pity. ‘great it just had to be fractured. walking around on it couldn’t have helped either..’

when dr lee returned he returned with someone else. you scanned his jacket for a name tag eyes relaxing as they set on the ‘dr choi’ in all caps.

‘dr choi’ smiled widely at you before shaking your hand, “hi i’m dr choi, unfortunately dr lee is being called in for something else so i’ll be taking over your x-ray if that’s fine with you?”

oh it was definitely fine with you.

you nodded, turning your head so you could focus on the clock rather than dr choi’s far too perfect face.

the x-rays technically went pretty quick but getting them done felt like hours. dr choi and his stupid too handsome face- “yn? yn you there?” your eyes went wide when you saw dr choi’s face only a few inches away from your own, apparently he’d been trying to get your attention for 30 seconds.

“you’ll have to wait about a half hour until the results come through so for now how about you just keep that ankle raised, alright? i’ll be here finishing your paperwork so if anything starts hurting a lot out of nowhere let me know. oh and i might need to be asking you a few questions too”

“oh that’s fine and thank you” you nodded as he smiled at you, wheeling his chair to the computer and loading up your file. the room was silent for a few minutes so you took it as an opportunity to text back your mom, assuring her everything was fine and that the doctor wouldn’t have to amputate your leg.

“so you thought it was a sprain?” dr choi’s deep voice cut through the silence making you sit up slightly as you answered him.

“oh yeah. it was pretty swollen and when i’d read up on it all i saw was that swelling was usually a sign of a sprain, thought it wasn’t too big a deal” you shrugged your shoulders. you saw an expression flick on seungcheol’s face for a split second; he looked- annoyed?

“if something like this happens again yn please don’t wait until the end to come here” he looked so serious. after seeing his intimidating stare, you wouldn’t have been able to say no if you wanted to.

“you sure you just don’t want to see me more often, dr choi?” you teased in hopes it would lighten the mood. as soon as the words left your mouth though you regretted it- what if you’d crossed a line? surely a doctor doesn’t want to flirt with a patient.

much to your surprise however, the young doctor only shot you a smile before speaking “since we’re probably going to be seeing each other often why don’t you just get used to calling me seungcheol?”

heat rose to your cheeks, dr choi- seungcheol, never wiping the grin off of his face. he only turned back to the computer after you nodded.

“how did you manage to do that to it anyway?” it took you a few seconds to register his question was referring to your ankle but you couldn’t stop yourself growing embarrassed when dwelling back on the memory.

“i uh..” you trailed off, looking to the side. why were you so nervous? you’d easily told anyone else so why were you embarrassed telling seungcheol. “just a little accident, i fell trying to reach something”

seungcheol looked at you unamused and you’d wished you had told him something else, now you just look like an idiot in front of him.

“when did that happen exactly?”

“uh about a week ago? something like that”

“you just walked on your ankle normally for a week?” you looked flustered at his tone, “well no wonder it ended up getting worse. if something like that happens yn you should at least book an appointment with your doctor if you don’t want to head here”

the way he talked to you, it sounded he was so caring. suppose that’s what you need as a doctor. still, even if it was part of his job, you couldn’t help the way he made your heart beat a little faster and cheeks grow a little warmer.

“sorry. the hospital just intimidates me so i guess i was just hoping even if it was a little sprain it’ll heal on its own as long as i don’t put too much pressure on it”

seungcheol nodded at your words, getting something from the desk before turning back to the computer. you could see now that he had a pair of glasses resting on his nose bridge, you hate to admit it but it made him look even cuter than before.

“oh you need glasses?” why did you ask him that? that’s such a stupid thing to ask.

“hm? oh these? nah they’re just blue light glasses” he said with a small smile, continuing his work.

you’d spent the rest of the half hour scrolling on your phone and texting your friends about where you were. your friend jeonghan promising you a bouquet of flowers from the shop when he comes to visit you. you didn’t mention the cute doctor you had that you definitely did not have a crush on. it was just attraction, that’s totally normal.

“oh your x-ray results are back” seungcheol told you, picking it up from the printer and wheeling his chair over to the bed you were on. “alright so it’s definitely a fracture and luckily for you, it’s not too serious. as you can see there only one bone cracked which means you most likely won’t be needing surgery. but considering how reckless you are, we’ll be giving you a cast and i’ll check to see if you can approved for crutches too”

despite all this information there was only one thing you really wanted to know. “so when can i go home?”

seungcheol let out a sigh, “after we get the cast on you and get the okay for the crutches. i’ll send the request in now should take about an hour or two, alright?”

“yeah that’s fine”

it’d been about twenty minutes since you’d gotten the cast on and you can already feel it start to annoy you. this was going to make your life hell for the next- wait how long do you have to wear this thing?

you looked over to seungcheol who was still busy at work, you really did not want to bother him. but then again he did say that you could ask him anything and it’d be fine.

“hey seungcheol?” he turned his head toward you humming, “i was just wondering how long i need to keep this thing on for”

he turned his body completely toward you, “there’s no guaranteed date, usually it takes around 6-8 weeks to heal on its own but it depends on everyone’s own body and how well you take care of it” a teasing lilt in his voice as he told you the last part.

“very funny” you jokingly rolled you eyes at him.

“it’s not my fault you couldn’t take care of yourself” he chuckled, spinning his chair around to continue sorting through his files.

eventually you could feel yourself growing more and more tired and before you knew it, you were out cold.

when you woke up there was a blanket covering your frame, the room being illuminated by the small desk lamp and seungcheol’s computer. you groaned a little, stretching your limbs as you rose from your nap. just how long had you been sleeping?

seungcheol heard you and realised you’d woken up, he stood and walked toward you. “sleep well?”

you laughed a little, “yeah i did, what time is it by the way my phones dead” you told him waving your phone that had the red battery sign on it.

“pass it to me, i have a charger you can use it. also it’s uhhh” he looked over at his watch, “just a little past midnight”

“midnight? oh wow how long was that nap” you laughed lightly. “alright well i should get going then”

“do you have a ride?” seungcheol eyed you cautiously.

“after my phone’s done charging i can call jeonghan he usually stays up late” you said more to yourself then to seungcheol.

“yoon jeonghan?”

“yeah.. you know him too?”

seungcheol cleared his throat, “we met a couple months ago. he’s a florist right? we usually get a lot of bouquets from his shop and he’ll sometimes stick around after delivering them. i can call him for you if you don’t wanna wait for your phone to finish charging”

you nodded and mumbled a ‘thanks’ when he handed you his phone. on the fourth ring jeonghan picked up.

“hello? seungcheol you’re up at this hour? usually you’re in bed at 10pm sharp” you heard your friend on the other side of the call.

“jeonghan it’s me”

“yn? what’ve you got seungcheol’s phone for? are you two..?” he trailed off at the end and you knew exactly what he was implying.

“no you idiot. my phones dead and i’m still at the hospital, think you can come pick me up?”

“oh yeah sure. you feeling any better?”

“yeah thanks, text either of us when you’re here okay? bye” you pressed the red hang up sign, handing the phone back to seungcheol.

ten minutes later, jeonghan had texted you that he was waiting outside, reception wouldn’t let him in at this hour. with seungcheol’s help you got to the parking lot, jeonghan parking closest to the entrance so that you wouldn’t have to walk too much.

“i’ll see you again in a week” seungcheol waved you off with a smile.

“see you later, dr choi” you teased him.

when you were completely buckled up in jeonghan’s car and he’d finally left the hospital parking lot he finally asked you what he’d been dying to know for the last fifteen minutes.

“so you and cheol?” he asked you, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“he’s just my doctor calm down. i’m not going to try making a move on my doctor” you giggled, “he was pretty cool though.. i guess” you started out the window, trying to desperately fight back the smile when the thoughts of seungcheol flooded your mind.

“oh yeah you’re gone for him already” jeonghan laughed.

“it’s been a day! i couldn’t possibly like him that much after a few hours come on jeonghan i’m not that bad”

“i don’t know, i wouldn’t be so sure. i mean it’s not like you’re the only one who feels like that. cheol could’ve woken you up and went home but he didn’t. he worked overtime to make sure you were alright”

“okay now you’re just being crazy. he probably had his own work to do. what kind of guy would do that for some random person they met two hours before?” you scoffed, throwing him a questioning look.

he shrugged, “i’m just saying what i’ve observed”

you shook your head, remembering what seungcheol had told you, “wait why do you stick around the hospital so much? even after delivering the orders?”

“oh that..” jeonghan was.. blushing? you’ve known him since you were ten and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him blushing, “i’m uh.. friends with one of the surgeons. i usually stick around talking to her and then met cheol and shua. but enough about me what’d they say about your ankle?”

“hm? oh yeah they said it usually takes around 6 weeks to heal, maybe even two months. just gotta be careful with it now that it’s in the cast”

four weeks later you'd returned to the hospital for your checkup, an extra pip in your step despite the crutches. you’d been having regular weekly checkups with seungcheol ever since that day and you enjoy the time spent with him more than anything. the hospital was done up nicely today, decorations everywhere in time for valentine’s day.

your ankle was heeling up nicely, so you’ve been told. if it kept up how it was you’d definitely be out of the cast at the six week mark. when you reached seungcheol’s door you knocked on it a few times before he opened it for you with a smile.

“my favourite patient, how’ve you been? ankle not giving you any new trouble right?” he told you as he helped you up on the bed.

“i’ve been good thanks and no, it’s been the same” you returned his wide grin. it was a long shot but you were secretly hoping he’d do something for valentine’s day. you guys had spent the last few weeks subtly flirting and the chemistry between you both was undeniable.

the checkup went smoothly as usual and seungcheol assured you that you were on a steady path to being completely recovered. as you were about to leave you saw dr hong waiting outside the door, holding a.. bouquet of red roses? seungcheol let him in and took the roses from him.

“jeonghan just left these for you, said you ordered them?” dr hong told him, smiling at you.

“thanks shua” he sighed.

you didn’t want to invade his privacy but you couldn’t help the way that the ‘to you’ card just happened to be right in front of your face. you wished it wasn’t though after seeing who the flowers were really for.

you felt a knot forming in your throat and cleared your throat, “uh i’ll see you next week doctor” you smiled at him tight lipped, not waiting for his response before you headed out the door.

jeonghan was probably around and could’ve given you a ride but you don’t think you could last in a car ride with him. he was far too good at reading emotions and would he able to tell somethings up with you in a minute.

sighing, you opened up the app for an uber and waited in the hospital cafe until you got the notification it was here. the entire car ride you tried your hardest to not think about seungcheol and how sweet he was to you, and definitely not about how the flowers he bought were for someone else and not you.

it’d been a week since your last appointment with seungcheol, and a week after valentines. you felt so stupid and so disgusted at yourself. this entire time you’d been shamelessly flirting with someone who couldn’t want less to do with you. someone who already had a girlfriend that he was buying a bouquet of red roses for.

you had an appointment tomorrow and you weren’t sure how you were going to face seungcheol, it was way too embarrassing to even think about. sighing, you picked up your keys before deciding to go out on a walk. there was a spot you always came to whenever you felt like this. it was past a little public trail near a few fields, everything always felt so calm there.

the only problem was that getting there was usually difficult even when you didn’t have a cast on your leg. it was bound to be even worse now. regardless, you started walking down the trail anyway, trying your hardest to avoid stepping into the dips in the ground too harshly. however careful you were though, the path was too randomly uneven so you couldn’t avoid harshly coming down on one. and it just had to be on your injured leg.

a sharp pain shooting through your ankle as you winced in pain. you sat on some of the grass near the trail and tried keeping your leg as elevated as you could. even if you could get the pain to alleviate, you were still only halfway down the path and trying to go the full way was far too risky. sighing, you stood again to head back home instead, limping and wincing whenever your foot hit the ground a little hard.

eventually the pain was too much so you needed to take a break. even if you could get someone to pick you up, you’d still need to get through this trail to head back to where cars were able to drive anyway.

you stood again continuing your journey back until you heard someone call your name from behind. that can’t be..?

“yn! just because i said your ankle was healing well does not mean you can pull something like this! are you crazy?” seungcheol told you, trying his best to not get mad but you could still tell he was frustrated. “what were you even here for?”

“i just wanted to get to that field” you scoffed, “surprised you even care” you muttered the last part.

“excuse me?” seungcheol looked at you intently.

“whatever, i don’t need to explain myself to you”

“yn i’m your doctor-”

“not right now. right now you’re not working so you’re just choi seungcheol” you told him pointedly.

“yn why are you being like this? did something happen?” seungcheol told asked you hesitantly.

you put some distance between the two of you, “it’s not like i need to tell you any of this. we’re not friends and you’re not my boyfriend, so please do not pretend like you care” you hated how your voice cracked slightly, tears welling up in your eyes. “besides i don’t think your girlfriend would really appreciate this so it’s better i just leave”

before you could leave you felt a strong hand gripping your forearm bringing you back toward him, “what the hell are you talking about? what girlfriend?”

if you hadn’t seen the evidence yourself you would’ve believed him considering how convincing his confused face looks.

“yn listen to me, i don’t even have a girlfriend, if i did i would not have the spent the last month thinking of ways to ask you out after your ankle was fine”

“huh? but- but i saw it! that day- with the flowers! they said to-”

“yn those were for my brother..” he interrupted you, amusement pulling at his features.

“you’re asking out your brother?” you shouted.

“no you idiot! ew! let me explain. my brother needed to get his girlfriend flowers for valentines and i told him about jeonghan. so he asked me to pick them up for him” seungcheol laughed lightly, holding your shoulders so that you knew not to interrupt him halfway through.

“oh.. well- any normal person would assume you were getting those for your own girlfriend!” you pouted trying to turn away from his teasing smirk.

“i don’t really understand why you were jealous though.. hmm” he put his finger on his chin sarcastically. he knew exactly why but still wanted to tease you for it, “oh! unless you’re jealous”

you groaned, covering your face before seungcheol pried your hands away. his gaze on you was too much at once so you turned away attempting to walk away. you’d forgotten where you were though so your foot slipped hard on a whole in the ground again.

“shit- we need to get you back to the hospital. can’t let you walk this whole way though..” you saw seungcheol think about it for a few seconds before he knelt down on the ground in front on you, “get on my back, i’ll carry you back and then you’re headed straight to the hospital, i’ll drop you off”

“are you sure?”

“yes now hurry. can’t believe you were willing to break your leg over something as petty as this” he scoffed jokingly as he made sure you were secure on his back.

it took about twenty minutes to get to the hospital and after they ran all the tests it was decided it was best for you to stay overnight. this time you weren’t in seungcheol’s usual office but one in the emergency ward. you didn’t like this one bit.

when seungcheol walked in he smiled when he met your gaze, “hey, everything alright?”

“well all things considered it’s not too bad i guess” you said sarcastically drawing a laugh out of seungcheol.

“yeah well i didn’t ask you to make the injury worse, did i?”

you stayed quiet for a few seconds, “hey cheol, they won’t need to do a surgery right?”

seungcheol could see the nerves on your face and part of him felt so guilty for finding the pout on your face so cute.

“don’t worry about that pretty, you didn’t manage to break another bone, you just undid some of what was already healed. it’ll take a couple extra weeks to heal that’s it” he said, rubbing his hand over your head to provide comfort to your clearly distressed figure.

there was one more thing you needed to know“and about us-”

“do you really want me to confess to you in a stinky hospital room?” he laughed, “i had a whole plan in mind but now i gotta postpone it because little miss wants to have a broken leg decided she wants to stay in a cast even longer”

“alright, but if you’re making me wait longer it better be good” you tried threatening him, fighting back your giggles.

“get some rest yn, jeonghan said a couple of your friends are visiting tomorrow. sleep well, i’ll be here if you need anything”

during visiting hours the next day you saw seungcheol was right, your friends really did visit you; albeit your best friend was late because she got lost and had to have joshua escort her over.

“oh it feels so good to finally have that thing off” you sighed, “it felt so suffocating after a while i was starting to forget what my leg felt like”

“yeah well make sure you don’t wind up here again or else you might end up in something worse than a cast” seungcheol half heartedly scolded, “try twisting it around. if it feels alright take a couple steps so we can just be completely sure, yeah?”

you did as seungcheol asked more than glad to say everything felt fine and back to normal. you laughed happily, smiling at him when he said you were officially healed and wouldn’t need to keep the cast on.

you wanted to hug him but something stopped you, a twinge of excitement in your eyes when you cleared your throat ready to ask seungcheol, “so about that confession you promised me..”

he chuckled moving closer to you, both of you mirroring each other’s wide grins, “yn. would you like to have dinner with me tonight? i’ll tell you all about my feelings then”

“i would love to” you giggled, finally hugging him.

#seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen x you #scoups x reader #scoups fluff #scoups x y/n #scoups x you #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol x reader

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jeonginsleftcheek · 3 months ago

Text

The sun to me

Chapter V. Carved.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader

word count: 2.8k

chapter summary: what's carved into the mind becomes carved into the wood, etched forever in the heart even if it bleeds.

warnings: angsty, mentions of drugs, vague descriptions of self-harm and suicide, overall sad chapter

~ Masterlist for the series

~ next part

🤍 Magnolia - perseverance and determination

Isaac stands turned towards the window, his warm brown eyes roam everywhere they can, catching the fleeting sparkle of golden sun rays reflecting off of different surfaces, casting the glow into his irises.

The quiet afternoon is welcoming and warm as he sips on his herbal tea and enjoys the almost completely still world around him.

If he was asked 30 years ago where does he see himself in the future, this is not what he would ever imagine.

Always leading a busy life, living in a hurry, running with the crazy world around him, not ever once stopping to smell the roses.

What was he in a hurry to do? Hurry to see more, hurry to get it done, hurry to die?

He has no idea what kind of force drove him back then, maybe it was just the youthful energy he was filled with back then.

He'd like to think he's calmer and wiser now, flowing like a gentle stream rather than a fast and rambunctious river.

The door closes behind him and he turns slowly to be greeted by the said fast and rambunctious river taking the shape of a young man known by the name Hyunjin.

His backpack is slinged on one shoulder, his jeans are dirtied, his hair is slightly messy and his face wears a blissful and giddy smile, one that Isaac recognizes as he himself wore the same smile many years before.

"Afternoon, Hyunjin."- he greets the young man.

"Afternoon."- Hyunjin answers with a nod, the big smile never ceasing from his lips.

"You look rather joyful."- Isaac says, finishing his tea.

"Oh well, I had a really good day. I planted petunias."- he says, not revealing too much. "And I really need to take a shower now."- he laughs.

"Alright, don't let me stop you from your plans."- Isaac lifts his hand up in surrender. "Do join me in my studio later, please."

"Oh that! Right, I will I promise."- Hyunjin says before hurrying up to his room.

Isaac lets out a quiet chuckle before making his way to his beloved studio.

In the early evening hours, Hyunjin finally gathers the courage to knock on the big wooden door leading to Isaac's studio.

"Come in, come in."- he hears him say, his voice muffled.

Hyunjin opens the door and is immediately hit by the intense smell of wood and varnish, even stronger in the studio than in the rest of the house. If he takes a deep breath in, he thinks he might be sick but at the surface it's not too unpleasant to his senses.

"You'll get used to it quickly."- Isaac chuckles, noticing the young man's face is scrunched up.

"Come, sit here."- Isaac beckons, patting the chair next to him and Hyunjin sits down in the creaky seat.

The studio is big, even bigger than the living room and the dining room together, huge glass windows letting the afternoon sun in as it casts a glow on all of the wooden furniture and sculptures scattered everywhere.

For a moment, it looks as if though the wood is expanding and breathing, like it's still alive, but it's just a trick of the mind, swirling the patterns on the different works of art in Hyunjin's eyes.

He then looks at the table, his eyes roaming all over the different tools and wood chunks spread before the two of them.

"You ready to learn some whittling?"- Isaac smiles, excited to be someone's teacher again, like he was to his son. He wishes he'd been a better teacher then, not just giving him lectures about how his hands should move but also how to help his heart come out of the depths of despair.

"Ready as I'll ever be."- Hyunjin is in a good mood, transferring the giddiness to Isaac.

"We are using basswood today. It has fine texture and it's good for beginners like you."- Isaac says.

"What are we gonna make?"- Hyunjin asks.

"You can make whatever you want and I will guide you how to do it. But you'll need some protection first."- Isaac gives Hyunjin a slice resisting glove for the hand which will hold the wood, and a thumb guard for pushing onto the back of the blade safely.

"I don't know what I can do."- Hyunjin chuckles awkwardly and Isaac shakes his head.

"Maybe let's start with some type of animal or a face, that's easy."

"Doesn't sound easy."- Hyunjin chuckles and Isaac gives him a piece of the wood and a pencil.

"Draw out an owl, for example. You have to sketch before actually dealing with the knife."- Isaac has another bigger and already half-done sculpture of a woman with a dress flying around her as she dances.

Hyunjin does as he said, the familiarity of sketching before doing something he's never done before brings him a peace of mind.

"How did you decide to do this?"- Hyunjin suddenly asks and Isaac looks up from his sculpture, with a small smile.

"Short or long version?"- he asks.

"I like long stories."- Hyunjin gives Isaac a big smile and Isaac leans back, putting his knife down onto the table.

Isaac was 6 years old when he sat in the very same studio for the first time with his father. Every single day, his father would spend hours in the room and little Isaac always wondered what was so interesting in there that it takes up so much of his father's attention.

He thought that there must be something very important and magical about that room, when his father spent more time in there than in any other room of their house.

His mother always told him not to bother him but Isaac was too curious for his own good and one day he stumbled inside. His father turned around with a startle as he was concentrating on measuring wood planks.

"Isaac!"- he exclaimed before putting his tools down.

"What are you doing daddy?"- he'd asked and his father sighed, coming closer to him and gently putting his hands on his son's shoulders.

"I'm making furniture. You know the table in the dining room where we sit and eat every day? I carved that with my own hands."

"Really?! Is it magic?"- Isaac's eyes are wide as he stares up at his father who chuckles endearingly at him.

"No son, it's hard work. I'll teach you some day, right now you're too small and it's dangerous for you. But you can watch while I make measurements and decorate."- he said and Isaac nodded excitedly, joining his dad.

Isaac was 16 when he decided to become a woodworker like his father, following right in his footsteps. He holed himself up in his father's studio when he'd succumbed to his sickness, leaving Isaac only with his mother.

The smell of varnish was something he didn't even feel anymore, after spending so much time inside the studio, working with the precious wood, taking splinters out of his flesh, Isaac soon became desensitized.

His mother, the house, the studio and the furniture he made and broke suffocated him and he decided to move away to the city, to be able to breathe and open his wings.

Isaac was 21 when he met the love of his life, Celia, the most beautiful woman that ever graced this planet in his eyes, a goddess made to be worshipped and loved.

That's what he vowed to do as soon as they got married only 4 months after they've met.

She was a dancer and he started selling his sculptures and furniture, both of them working odd jobs to make ends meet before an important man noticed Isaac's work and asked him to make a sculpture for his big mansion, promising to pay him a big amount of money.

It seemed too good to be true, but Celia begged him to try and give the man a chance. She had just found our she was pregnant and they needed all the money they could get.

As it turned out, the man wasn't a fraud, he was someone who genuinely enjoyed discovering young and talented people, helping them become recognized for their work, as he owned a gallery.

Isaac was quickly invited to make enough sculptures for an exhibition, a dream come true for him, and Celia was proud of her husband for reaching such great heights.

But as it often happens, what flies high has to come down eventually, and while the exhibition was a success, and so was the next one, and the next one, and the next one, Isaac was becoming more and more greedy, blinded by the promise of the distant shining lights.

His wife and his now 5 year old son Leo came second place after the fame he was bathed in and the riches he slept amongst. The people around him were the ones with the white noses, crooked smiles and tainted hearts, and he became one of them. Just another snotty rich man, snorting up the good stuff, his arm wrapped around some random pretty young woman.

Celia endured all of this for the sake of her son who was different since he was small, a sad little boy, always on the side, never playing with his peers, always silent, his voice quiet like an autumn breeze whirling dry leaves up in the air.

Isaac neglected his family in exchange for material things and women, and as his son kept growing up, he holed himself up in his room, finding comfort in whittling.

The knife was sharp, cutting out wood, cutting out skin. There was so much blood as his mother found him, quickly calling the ambulance.

They managed to save Leo for now, and Isaac was late as always, making Celia scream at him and hit him as she kept yelling that it was his fault and he did this to his family.

Isaac would've cried but his heart felt stuck, so he promised to be better from now on, as he took the both of them to the house on the island.

They took a little break here, hoping that the calmness and simple beauty of the island would inspire Leo, and make Isaac remember why he started it all, remind him of his dear parents, now food for the earth, remind him how he loved Celia, carving her beautiful figure into the wood again and again.

But when the wood is rotten inside, there is no way to save it and make it right again. The constant screaming of Leo's parents added to his clinically depressed state resulting in the carving of the skin again.

This time it was too late when Isaac had found him in the very room where Hyunjin sleeps now.

Celia left him after that and Isaac went back to the city, drowning himself in insignificant shit, drugs, fake smiles and sympathethic pats of people who didn't care for anything except their wallets.

He was dancing on thin ice, almost killing himself in the process, not caring about his well being or anything else except numbing the pain of knowing that he effectively killed his son and drove his wife away, driving himself to a fast breakdown.

"And now, I've been here for a long time."- Isaac wipes a single tear as Hyunjin sits stunned, the wood and the pencil still in his hands, as he tries to process the life the man sitting next to him went through.

"I- I don't know what to say. I'm really sorry for everything you went through."- Hyunjin speaks quietly, afraid that if he raises his voice, the room will be disturbed.

"Ah, it's not your fault. I told you all of this because I think you're going down a similar path, isn't that why you're here?"

"Honestly, it is. My manager - he's only hungry for money. And while he pretends to be my friend, I know he doesn't give a shit about me as a person, he only sees me as a source of income. The people around me are disgusting, the type I would never imagine myself hanging out with before. I feel like I fell into a hole and can't seem to unearth myself. It's like something's wrapped and weighing down on my ankles, perpetually pulling me down into the underground. I had to run away and find a peaceful place to find myself again."- Hyunjin confesses, saying everything out loud lifts a stone from his heart.

"I had a feeling it was like that because you remind me so much of myself when I was young. And I told you all of my story so you can learn a lesson by listening, not by doing. It would be a shame to throw your life away on insignificant things and end up alone like I am. Especially when you've found love."- Isaac smiles knowingly and Hyunjin jolts, hand squeezing the chunk of wood in his palm.

"L-love?"- he laughs awkwardly.

"The smile on your face today, it's something I wore many times on my own face. It's the completely dumb-in-love smile I had when I met Celia. I know you've spent the day with y/n, since you said you planted petunias. So what I'm saying is, nurture this. Don't let it slip away through your fingers. Don't make the same mistakes I did, you can still get back on the right path."- Isaac says and he can see the cogs turning in Hyunjin's head but he doesn't say anything.

It's enough for Isaac to see that he's letting the words sink in, so he decides to move onto the tutorial for whittling to actually teach Hyunjin how to sculpt the wood.

There is some classical music playing lightly in the background as Hyunjin learns something new for the second time today, a few push cuts, sweeping cuts and stab cuts later there is a little owl in Hyunjin's hands, with it's wings and eyes closed, looking like it's sitting peacefully somewhere high up in a tree.

"That is some good work for a beginner."- Isaac praises him, of course it's not perfect and it doesn't have to be but being an artist himself, Hyunjin's hands are already used to creating something out of nothing.

"Thank you."- he smiles as he observes the little owl, the symbol of wisdom and intuition, telling Hyunjin to just listen to his gut and try to hear what his heart wants, his heart that has withered in the dry and dark city between loveless people.

"You should add some finish to it to brighten it up and make it resilient to moisture."- Isaac says, giving Hyunjin some wood oil and a paintbrush.

Holding the brush in his fingers and moving it across the wood, makes him miss the feeling when he'd let his heart lead his hand on the canvas, his eyes could even be closed as he takes a moment to feel the art pouring out of his soul.

The time when everything was simple and beautiful, the time when he took back what his mother stole for him, the love he always had for creating.

"Thanks for joining me today."- Isaac says as they eat dinner.

"Thanks for telling me your story and teaching me your craft."- Hyunjin smiles genuinely.

That night in bed, Hyunjin stares at the owl he carved that's now sitting on the night stand and his eyes travel up to the ceiling.

One of his hands is propped under his head and the other draws patterns in the blanket that he threw over himself.

His mind is buzzing with thoughts, every time he ends up thinking about the city and what Isaac told him, there's a knot in his stomach. He wishes he never has to leave, wishes that he never has to go back to the cold and cruel city, that he could continue living here, planting flowers with you every day, helping you take care of your garden, painting with you, holding you close.

He wishes life was that simple but it never is.

Hyunjin knows it's dangerous but he lets his mind settle onto daydreaming about you, creating different scenarios, all soft, loving, erotic, indulging himself with a fantasy he can only hope to live.

He falls asleep around 2am, mind and body tortured with thoughts of art, you, the city, Isaac and ultimately leading him to think about his mother and how she was the one who damaged him even before he damaged himself.

It's a vicious cycle that Hyunjin hopes he can break.

His eyes close and he falls into a dreamless sleep as the little wooden owl guards him, the moonlight casting a glow that makes it look like its eyes are opened and trained on Hyunjin.

And as silence covers the small island like a warm blanket, dark clouds travel from the distance reminding the quiet stars flickering in the sky that the calm always happens before a storm.

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @laughatdanger @lixies-favorite-cookie @linavc @quokkacidal @thisaintredwine @m00gyu @yaorzu-blog @skzfelixlove @tajannah-price1 @puccaaak @aft2rsexs @xxkissesforchanniexx @aprilmaejune77 @lilmeowneow @stayjinnie @astrobebba @danihwang882 @kaysungshine @nchhuhi @1810cl @chartrucewhore @babigriin @jisuperboard @alisonyus @minluvly @instantsoulnight @kkamismom12 @its-stayville-forever

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staystraykay · 2 years ago

Text

TokyoRev Dad's: Baby's First Words

Sup Freaks! Sorry I've been very MIA lately. Had a lot of things to take care of and sadly I just couldn't fit any time into writing for you guys. But I am back and ready to kick ass!

So, we're starting up the TR Dad series and we are starting strong. Baby's first words and the line up for the comback is:

Rindou---Ran---Mikey

So let's rock-n-roll buttholes!

RINDOU

“Come on, honey. Say mama.” You begged your nearly one-year old daughter.

Raiya had begun babbling and baby talking a couple of months ago. She’s made up her own little words for things she wanted or needed, and sometimes you had to have your five-year-old son Rhys to translate for you. Like when she started calling her comfort blanket her shushie. You didn’t have a single clue what she had been crying for all day until Rhys came in and handed her the small purple blanket.

“You wanna say it. I know you do.” You said playfully, making her giggle and clap her hands together repeatedly. “Mmmah mmmmah.” You said slower, making a funny face to try and trick her into mimicking you.

“Y/N?” You heard Rindou call out after you heard the door open and shut.

“In Raiya’s room.” You answered before clapping you hands. “Ma ma. Come on, Rai. I know you can do it. Say ma ma.”

“Hey, Angel.” Rindou hummed as he came into the room, blonde hair pulled half back, kissing the top of your head before joining you on the tiara rug. “Princess,” he cooed down at his daughter who was smiling and clapping.

“Hi Daddy!” Rhys came running into the room, launching himself onto his father’s back.

Rhys’s blonde hair was getting longer and along with his downturned eyes your sweet baby boy was looking more and more like his father every day. He even picked up on his dad’s death glare, which he mimics when he doesn’t want to do what you’ve asked.

“Hey buddy!” Rindou chuckled and reached his arm around to support the boys weight, carefully so he doesn’t fall. “Were you good for momma today?” He raised a brow and the little boy smiled and nodded his head.

“Yup.” He popped his p with a giggle.

“What about school?” Rindou pushed further.

“Green card all day.” Rhys said proudly with his chin held up. “Kouta had to move his card to yellow today.”

“Really? Why?” Rindou mocked a gasp.

You always loved that Rin was good with kids. Hell he was great with you even. So watching him be a dad, being a great father who was involved in his kids lives, well it made you fall deeper in love with him. When he had to work out of town he always called ever free second he got to talk to the kids, and with you. You were worried when you first found out you were pregnant with Rhys. You were only seventeen and rindou had barely turned eighteen when you found out. At the time you were afraid you were so young and he was involved in such harsh work you thought maybe he’d bail. But he hasn’t. Not for a single second once since the day you told him about Rhys. And when he found out about Raiya, and that it was a girl this time, oh you wish you could go back and relive the excitement and joy written all over his face.

“He threw a car at Kenzia’s head.” Rhys sighed. “I told him not to, daddy. Is told him whats you told me. Haitani’s don’t hit girls, unless it’s their butt because they like that.”

“Rindou!” You gasp and smack his chest. “Rhys, honey, you don’t hit gets period.”

The five year old snorted and looked at his dad with a matching smirk and said, “ok momma.”

Oh when this boy gets older you have no clue what you’re going to do.

“Daddy doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” You sigh and toss a half hearted glare at your husband. “Daddy’s been hit one too many times.”

“Da~” you heard your daughter attempt to mimic.

You snapped your attention back down to her in shock. “What was that? You got it, Rai.” You smiled.

She looked up at you and Rindou with her big violet eyes. “Da~ Da~” she babbled again.

“Come on, Princess. Almost there.” Rindou encouraged her, picking her up.

“Da da.” She pushed out with a big smile on her face, giggling and shrieking in her little baby excitement. “Dada! Dada!”

“Yes! That’s right, Princess. Dada is right here!” He cheered and smirked over at you. “Suck it. She said dada first.”

You glare and roll your eyes. “So? Rhys said mama first and he was our first born, so I still get the crown.”

Rindou smirked down at you and leaned in to peck your lips. “Mmm,” he hummed as he pulled away, “you’ve always had the crown baby. My first princess.”

“Ew,” you laughed and pushed him away before getting up. “I’m the queen.”

“My queen.” He added with a sexy knowing look. “Maybe we can make another little Prince or Princess tonight when the kids go to sleep.” He muttered into your hair before picking up both kids and running out the room to play with them.

Good God, what have you done to deserve this amazing man?

RAN

“You’re hovering, Love.” Ran sighed as he walked in to the living room to see you and your son on the couch.

For hours now you have been trying to get your son Kouta to say something. Anything. You were getting impatient and you wanted to hear him say something. You could have sworn he said ball this morning but Ran said it sounded more like a burp. So, here you were laid on the couch, son on your lap giggling because his momma was making funny sounds and faces.

“He’ll say something when he’s ready to. No need to rush the process.” He added before leaning over the back of the couch and booped your son on the nose with one of his long fingers. “Ain’t that right, kiddo? Tell momma it’s ok. You’ll talk when you’re ready.”

You glared before flatly saying, “Rhys said his first word yesterday.”

Ran snapped his eyes to you and said, “really? Rin didn’t tell me.”

You shrugged and went back to playing with your son. “Katie called me yesterday and told me.”

“What was it?” He asked you, brows raised.

You shrugged again as you made a funny face to make your son laugh. “She didn’t say. We were on the phone and I guess he said it just then because she rushed me off the phone.”

“So she didn’t tell you, you just happened to be on the phone with her when he said it.” He deadpanned.

“She still would have called me.” You defeneded.

“Mmmm sure.” Ran continued to tease. “You’re not special.”

“Am too!” You snapped back, obviously letting him under your skin.

“Are not.” He amusingly continued. He always did love to see you all flustered and your feathers are ruffled up. It was satisfying to know that even after all these years and now a kid, he still could rile you up like this.

“Are so! Now take it back, Ran!” You pout, feelings slightly hurt.

You were a princess dammit. He better start remembering that.

“Mmmm no.” He sighed.

You looked to your son and faked cried. “Dada is so mean, bubba.”

Your one year old son looked at you and pouted. He looked to his dad and slapped his chubby little hand down on his dad’s head before curling up in your chest.

“Mama.”

Did he just-

“Aw, baby.” You cooed as he rubbed his little head further into your chest.

“Mama.” He repeated and you were just about ready to pass out.

“Someone’s protective over their momma.” You cooed and squeezed the baby close to you. “Mommy’s big protector.”

“Hey now, you don’t have to protect her from me.” Ran pouted and joined you on the couch. “I love momma too.” He whined.

Kouta looked at his dad and then looked at you.

“I know. He’s so whiney.” You said to your son, teasing your husband.

“Y/N.” He whined again.

You roll your eyes and look at your son. “What do you say? Should we share cuddles with dada?”

“Mama!” Kouta cheered and snuggled further into your chest.

“Sorry, Ran. You heard the kid. Momma only. No dad.” You taunted and mocked a shrug.

“Yeah right.” He scoffed before scooping you both up into his arms and curling up with you two. He looked at his son who was giggling. “You can share momma. I had her first anyways.”

MIKEY

Kaito, your five year old son, was helping you today and keeping his ten month old sister Miyo distracted for you. You needed the help today honestly. Miyo had woke up at six this morning and she hasn't ran out of energy yet. And with Mikey off handling 'business' today you had absolutely no help.

So, while you worked on making lunch to take up to your husband, Kaito decided he would step up and keep Miyo distracted. He was currently playing peek-a-boo with her on the living room floor. You could hear the gurgling giggles in the kitchen and every once in a while a childish 'boo!'.

"Kaito, honey, please go get your shoes and grab your sister's too." You called from the kitchen as you started to wrap up the bento box up in the black fabric.

"Yes ma'am." He called back and you could hear his little feet thudding off to his room.

"Hi Princess!" You cheered in a fake excitement for your daughter. She turned her little head towards you, her blonde hair cascading down from two pigtails. She clapped her hands with a big smile on her chunky little face. "Wanna go see daddy?" You asked and she squealed. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Here you go, Momma." Kaito said as he handed you Miyo's pink sparkly shoes Mikey just had to get her.

You son sat next to you and slipped on his spiderman light-up shoes before standing up to help you get things together. He honestly was mommy's little helper. You're going to cry when he grows out of this.

"I got Miyo's stroller ready, Momma. Daddy's lunch is in the bottom." He stated before he went to grab your purse off the kitchen table.

"Ok, buddy. Thank you." You smiled as him after you finally wrestled your daughter's shoes on. "Come on, Princess. Let's go see daddy." You sighed and stood up to strap her into the stroller. "Kaito, when we get outside you jump on the back ok? We gotta get there quickly today."

"Yes ma'am." He called from the front door that he was already unlocking.

You finally got both out the door and closed the house up. The walk to Bonten wasn't far from your house. Mikey liked to stay close in case he needed to get to the office for an emergency and also he said hiding in plain sight was always the best option. What cop would believe a known mobster was living a block away from his office? You didn't necessarily agree with that, but if Mikey went in he'd be coming right back out anyways so you didn't care. Half the damn city was in Bonten's pockets.

Thank you Kokonoi.

"Momma, can I push the livater button?" Kaito asked, still not quite getting the hang of the word elevator.

You smile down at him and rub his pale blonde hair. "Sure. You remember daddy's floor number?"

"P for pimp house!" He cheered.

"Pent house. Pent." You quickly corrected.

Sanzu probably taught him that.

You're going to rip his pink hair out.

"Penthouse." Your son repeated, feeling out how the word formed in his mouth.

You sighed as pushed the stroller up to the elevator doors. "Ok, Kaito, push the button pointing up."

"Ok!" He cheered and jumped off the back of his sister's stroller. "Up!" He chanted as he did his little happy dance waiting for the elevator to come down. "Up! We goin up! Right, Miyo?" You adored how your son always thought to include his sister. It made you a proud momma.

Miyo squealed again which made both you and Kaito laugh.

The elevator dinged and before the doors could fully open up, Kaito was already jamming his small body into the metal box. You tried to reach out to grab him in case anyone was in there he didn't need to see, but lucky you it was only Kokonoi.

"Uncle Koko!" Kaito cheered before launching him at the Chanel dressed man.

He looked up from his phone and saw you before looking down to the mini version of his boss. "Kaito. Y/N." He nodded to you before bending down to talk to your son as you joined them on the elevator. "How's the prince today?" Koko asked kindly before ruffling your son's hair.

"I'm good. I helped momma today." Your son bragged before giving the filthy rich man a big smile.

"Did you now? How'd you do that?" He played along.

It was always so funny to you how well Kokonoi did with kids. Normally boujie rich people don't like kids. They think there gross or loud or sticky or hazardous or in most cases all that wrapped up in a three foot body. But oddly not Koko. He loved Kaito and Miyo both. You remember all the too nice Chanel baby clothes he tends to get for both of them. The damned wind suit your son had on is an overly expensive Nike set Koko gifted to him as 'clothes you can get dirty'.

"Lots of stuff! But I mostly play with Miyo for Momma, so she can get things done." Kaito smiled even wider as Koko laughed and told him how good of a job he was doing.

"You coming to see Mikey today?" Koko asked you.

You nodded and said, "He forgot to grab lunch, and I refuse to let you guys suffer. I know how mean he can be to you guys if he doesn't eat." You chuckled sympathetically.

Koko nodded knowingly. "I was just on my way to the convenient store to get him something. He's been testy today."

The elevator dinged and opened up to the bonten pent house. Your son dashed out quicker than either you or Koko could react and before you knew it your five year old was out of sight.

"Kaito, wait!" You called.

You really needed to explain to him why he couldn't just run around in daddy's office. Or come up with a kid friendly reason. Telling your five year old that his father is a mobster who's killed people and beaten other's in this very office until they were unrecognizable.

"Daddy!" You heard your son cheer.

"Kaito?" The panic and confusion in your husband's voice was clear. "Where's your mother?"

"I'm right here." You sighed as you rounded the corner to see Mikey on the couch along with the Haitani brother's who were passing a joint back and forth and Sanzu who was cleaning his gun. "Kaito, I have told you, you cannot run away from mommy." You sighed as you gripped your son's shoulder.

"Uncle Sanzu what's that?" Kaito ignored you and asked the pink hitman about his gun.

"Huh? This? A nine-"

"It's nothing you need to know." You cut him off and glared at the man.

"Put it away." Mikey growled lowly and the hitman nodded and quickly took the 9-milimeter to his office.

Before you could turn on the Haitani's you heard the sliding of the balcony doors and saw the two finishing their roll on the balcony. At least the two of them had some type of manors. Who the hell starts breaking down what a gun is to a five year old? It's not like he doesn't have kids of his own. He has a son just a couple years younger than Kaito at home.

"Hi, Princess!" Mikey cheered as he picked his daughter up our of her stroller. "How's daddy's favorite girl?" He cooed as she squealed and giggled.

"Excuse me?" You snapped and raised a brow.

Mikey stiffened and then looked at you with a wink before kissing your brow. "Besides you my love."

"Mmmhm. Sure." You mocked rolling your eyes. "Well, your favorite girl has kept momma up since six this morning. Just playing and playing." You smiled at your daughter and cooed.

"Has she? You gotta let momma get her sleep, Princess. She's mean to daddy if you don't." Mikey teased and you shot him a quick glare.

You both started playing with her when Kaito started playing with his miniature soccer set Mikey kept at the office for him. Said he always wanted to make sure his kids could come visit him and have something fun to do.

Miyo noticed her brother and started babbling for him.

"You see bubba?" You asked as Mikey bounced her.

She looked at you then back at Kaito and suddenly screeched out, "Bu-ba!"

You and Mikey both froze and then looked at each other.

"Did she just-"

"Uh huh." You nodded.

"Bu-Ba! Bu-Ba!" She called out again and again, getting better every time.

Mikey finally put her down and she crawled off quickly to her brother, calling him as she did so. You looked over to Mikey and saw the pout on his face.

"Manjiro," You warned, "let your son have this."

"But I wanted to be her first word. I'm dada!" He pouted aloud to you.

You rolled your eyes and pecked him on the lips. "You're always going to be her daddy and she's always going to be your princess. Her first word doesn't change that. And you should be happy your daughter loved her brother. Maybe they'll be close and we'll be some of those lucky parents with kids who get along."

"Doubt it." Mikey scoffed. "Emma and I use to fight from sun up to sun down. Enjoy this while you can."

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captainlunaxmen · 8 months ago

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Panic 2.0

Chapter 1

Dodge Mason x fem!reader x Ray Hall

This is a rewriting of my old series on @lunamadhatter99, I decided to rewrite it because the series wasn't completed, and I didn't like it that much anymore.

Let me know what you think and if you want to be tagged in the next chapters.❤️❤️❤️

Chapter summary: graduation day!

Chapter warnings: none.

Tag list.

@stuckinthesmalldoor @once-upon-an-imagine

@idontevenknow1359

Relief is all I feel right now in the auditorium, waiting for Graduation to begin. I patiently sit with the other students waiting for my name yo be called, next to me my closest friends: Natalie, Heather and Bishop. I look behind me, a few rows behind I spot the new guy, Dodge Mason. I gently smile at him and he smiles back, we bonded a lot since he arrived last year, which is something that makes me proud, since he's not known for being the most open person here.

Graduation is the first step out of here, out of Carp, Texas, which all of us call the capital of Nothing.

The second step would be the local summer game: Panic. It's easy to explain Panic: you play and if you win, you're out of here. What's the catch? It's in the name, Panic, the challenges aren't exactly children friendly.

And, funny enough, the game has one simple rule: do not panic.

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

"Is your aunt coming?" Heather asks me as we walk out of the building. Natalie and Bishop being congratulated by their families.

"Nah... I didn't even get a text, I don't think she will show up." I shrug, "what about your mother?"

Right before she could answer a sweet little voice calls Heather's name.

"They're here." She smiles, almost apologetically to which I respond with a reassuring smile.

"Guess I'll see you tonight." I chuckle.

"You don't have much of a choice." She laughs walking off.

I dare to take a look around for my aunt, but as expected, no one in sight.

"Congratulations, Y/n." I turn around seeing Natalie with his father walking to get their picture taken.

"Thank you, officer!" I wave at him and Natalie and start to walk off too.

I take just a few steps before another voice calls for me.

"Y/n!"

I turn around once again, watching Jessica, Dodge's mother, walking towards me with Dodge next to her.

"Hi, Jessica." I smile, warmly at her.

"Congratulations, sweetheart." She hugs me tightly once sheclose enough, Dodge sends me and apologetic yet amused smile.

"Thank you." I say pulling away, "so nice to be finally done." I laugh.

"I bet." She smiles brightly, I notice her looking around.

"She won't be here." I casually say, Jessica looks at me, sorry.

"Do you need a ride home?" Dodge cuts in, sensing the beginning of embarrassment.

"Oh... no, no, I'm good." I quickly say.

He looks at me unconvinced, then hums.

"We'll give you a ride. C'mon." He motion on and starts to walk without waiting for my answer. Jessica smiles proudly and walk away as well, so I have no other choice but to accept and follow them.

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

"I think I already know the answer but... Will I see you at tonight's party?" I ask, as I step out of Dodge's car.

"You definitely know the answer." He smile at me and I sigh, nodding defeated.

"You're lucky I'm not like Natalie, or you wouldn't hear the end of it." I say.

"I tried to make him change his mind, but he's stubborn." Jessica chimes in from the driver seat.

"Yeah, it's one of the first things I learned about him." I laugh, "but I can't say he's wrong. I'm not a party person myself."

"You're young, enjoy these years, trust me." She tells us, using a sweet and motherly tone.

"We do enjoy them differently." Dodge replies smugly.

"I agree" I support him and Jessica just rolls her eyes with a smile, "I'll see you tomorrow at work then."

"Of course." He smiles.

"Be careful tonight, sweetheart."

"Drive safe!" I say walking to my house.

Well, my aunt's house, but since she's never here, it might as well be mine.

My phone rings once I change into something more comfortable.

Natalie, of course.

"Yes" I greet with a laugh, "I promised, I know."

"Oh good, you're making my job easier." She cheerfully replies. "I'll get there around 8? Does it work for you?"

"I don't have much of a choice so... yeah." I laugh.

"Wear something cute. We have to celebrate! Wear that cute dress you wore at my birthday party." She suggests at the end.

"Do you want to control what I wear now?" I scoff out a laugh.

"You're just so cute in that! C'mon!" She insists, "I'm making my puppy eyes."

"That doesn't work if I can't see you, you know that, right?"

"But you know what I look like." She sings trying to get me to agree.

"Fine.." I sigh, deeply, letting out a laugh too, "fine, I'll wear that stupid dress."

"Hey! It's not stupid! It's cute!" She scolds me jokingly. "I'll see you tonight, bye!"

"Bye!" I say having up the phone and heading ot my wardrobe to take out the short dress Natalie referred to.

To pass the time I'll clean around for a while, just to keep my mind busy. If I start to think, I'll end up thinking about Panic and I really don't want to think about it right now. I don't want to risk thinking too much and then back down. I'm taking the risk this time and I'm determined to win.

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

We arrive at the already started party, Natalie parts from us to go greet some friends of hers, while I go find Heather and Bishop.

I spot them near the fire, drinks in hand already so I make my way to them.

"Hey." I say taking a set next to Heather.

"Hey Y/n. You came!" Bishop cheers, surprised.

"Natalie forced her to promise she would be here." Heather explained, simply.

"Exactly. Can't break a promise." I sigh, but glad I spend time with them.

"We're happy you're here." Bishop nod towards me, "you're just in time, we were-"

Ray's loud voice interrupts him mid-sentence.

"Oh god.." I sigh, Heather pats my arm comfortingly.

Ray gets close enough to shove the cup against Bishop.

"Final collection." He, basically, demands.

"School's out, okay? I'm not even playing." Bishop replies, raising both hands up.

"Think of it as an insurance." Ray says bending over to get on Bishop's eye level, "it's gonna be one he'll of a summer."

"C'mon, man, I'm not gonna play." Bishop tries once again, with a nervous laugh.

Suddenly Ray grabs his arm, it looks painful from Bishop's expression.

"We're all playing, one way or another," Ray says, not letting Bishop go.

Heather looks at me, pleading, and I sigh.

"Ray, leave him alone." I warn.

He turn his attention to me, looking me up and down until a smirk appears on his face.

"Well, well, well... did you dolled up for me?" He asks.

"No." I answer.

"Are you sure, baby? You know I love you in that dress..." he says, staring at my legs.

"You say that about everything..." I say annoyed.

"That's because you are my favourite." He winks and gets closer.

"Could you leave us?" I ask.

"Mmh?" He hums, then bends over, the cup rests quietly on the ground, he then puts his hands on both armchair, caging me.

"Listen, I know you have some trouble understanding human language, but this is pretty basic." I say and his smirk only grows.

"You can lie to yourself, but not to me. We both know the truth." He says and I catch him looking down at my lips.

"If it helps you sleep at night." I turn my head to find some support in my friends, but they only loom unsure of what to do.

"I do think of you at night, actually, if that's what you're wondering, but I don't... sleep exactly." He leans closer.

"You're disgusting." I push him away.

"Took you long enough to push me away." He winks again, "see you soon, baby."

And with that Ray finally walks away with his cup.

"Prick." I mutter out, takingn a sip of my drink.

"Hey," Heather calls for us, "a toast. To global amnesia."

I nod, grateful, at her and raise my cup.

"Nah..." Bishop says, "selective. There's a few things I want to remember."

I notice Heather and Bishop looking at each other, something passing through their mind and I would swear There's something going on between these two.

As we toast, Natalie finally joins us.

"Hey, what did I miss?" She asks.

"We were toasting to a future free of Ray." I answer her.

"And who will you angry flirt with?" She teases.

"Uh?"

"That guy sucks." Bishop intervenes, to which I nod.

That's how the evening goes, we talk, remembering the good old days, while Bishop and Heather also try to talk me and Natalie out of playing Panic... no success on their part.

"Let's go dance!" Natalie exclaims, to change subject. She grabs Heather's arm and goes to grab mine too, but I manage to avoid it.

"I'll sit this one out." I say, I notice Natalie's stare, "I never promised I would dance."

She scoff and grabs Bishop, who gives me a helpless look and I just shrug waving at him.

I decide to just stay seated and enjoy my beer and my peace.

"Waiting for me?" Ray's infamous voice makes me groan annoyed.

"Obviously not. Now if you don't mind leaving me alone." I say, not looking up at him.

"I do mind. Especially when you play hard to get, you know how much I love it." He replies, sitting down and dragging the seat right next to me.

"I'm not playing anything. I simply don't like you." I tell him and he leans closer to me.

"Yeah... sure." He softly says, looking down at my lips.

"It's not gonna happen again." I warn.

"Let's bet, then."

"Uh?" I can't deny I'm intrigued.

"I know, you like challenges, so let's bet." He says, confidently looking into my eyes.

"Bet what?" I ask, pretending not to be interested, but his smirk only shows me he see right through it.

"If I win Panic, you'll be mine." He says, looking at my lips again, biting his own.

"Yeah, sure." I laugh at that, taking a sip from my beer.

"Too scared?" He teases.

"No." I, too quickly, answer.

"C'mon," he whispers, "you're sure I'm not gonna win, right?"

"What I get if I win, uh?" I ask, raising my eyebrow.

"I'll leave you alone. Even though we both now you don't actually want that." He winks and stands up.

I consider him for a moment before nodding my head, standing too.

"Fine." I say.

He takes my beer and take a sip from it.

"Deal." he holds out his hands waiting for me to shake it.

"Deal." I sigh, taking his hand to shake it.

He hold my hand for a moment before he pulls me to him so he can whisper into my ear.

"Can't wait, baby." He leaves a peck on my ear and I quickly move away from him.

He smirks and starts to walk back, my beer in hand, before nodding his head and fully turning to walk away.

"Shit." I sigh.

I go look for Natalie and tell her I'm about to get going, since I have work tomorrow.

She tries his best to keep me here and celebrate, with Heather and Bishop's help, but I did my part and it's time for me to go and get some rest.

They reluctantly let me go, Natalie offers to take me home, and since it's already too dark I accept.

I can't wait to lay down on my bed, hopefully forgetting about the bet for a while.

#mike faist imagine #mike faist #mike faist x reader #ray nicholson imagine #ray hall imagine #ray nicholson #ray hall #dodge mason imagine #dodge mason x reader #dodge mason #ray hall x reader #prime video panic #panic prime #panic imagine #prime video

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dee-writes-angst · 8 days ago

Text

THE DAWN COURT (Chapter Five)

FEATURING Lucien Vanserra x Reader

SUMMARY On the way through dawn, Lucien begins to open up to you and your stubborn heart can't resist falling deeper and deeper into the warmth of his beautiful smile.

CONTENT WARNINGS childhood abuse, abusive relationships, beron, Lucien is a momma's boy, brothers being pitted against each other, BERON VANSERRA, more mentions of Elain

AUTHORS NOTE I'm not sure how the Courts series became my constant proof of live update, but here we are again, and I can't say I feel bad about it.

SERIES MASTERLIST

The road to the Dawn Court stretched out before you in an endless array of soft pastel hues and rolling hills, the sky above tinged with faint lavender and gold as true dawn approached. Unlike the lush forests of the Spring Court or the frozen majesty of Winter, this land bore a gentler beauty—one that whispered of new beginnings and the quiet hush between night and morning. The air here felt lighter, as though each breath you took was suffused with the promise of a sunrise not yet fully formed. It was a place of transition, where the darkness of the night yielded gracefully to the first touch of day.

You and Lucien had ridden hard for hours, leaving the stark cold of the Winter Court behind in pursuit of the next alliance to be reestablished. Both of your horses moved with weary steps, their sides heaving gently, their coats dusted with sweat and flecks of road-grime. As you crested a gentle slope, an oasis of sorts revealed itself below—a small watering hole nestled in a shallow dip of land, surrounded by wiry shrubs and clusters of pale wildflowers swaying in the breeze. Tall, slender trees with silver-gray bark stood sentinel around the pool, their leaves rustling with the same airy hush that seemed to settle over the rest of the Dawn Court.

The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon, its rays slicing through the mauve-tinted sky in shimmering beams. A light, warm wind caressed your cheeks as you guided your mount down toward the water’s edge, relief stirring in your chest at the thought of a short rest. Lucien followed close behind, his features illuminated by the first true glow of dawn. The lines of tension you’d grown used to seeing in his face had eased somewhat during your travels, but every now and again, you caught a glimpse of the pain he tried so hard to hide.

You dismounted, carefully leading your horse to the water. Lucien did the same, quietly checking his horse’s bridle and running a soothing hand along its flank. His gaze drifted out over the pool, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke, letting the hushed magnificence of this new land envelop you. The sky above faded from lavender to rose, a gentle wave of color heralding the day’s arrival.

When Lucien finally broke the silence, his voice came out softer than usual, as if the serenity of the Dawn Court compelled him to speak more gently. “You asked me before about Beron,” he began, his tone laced with a cautious vulnerability. “About what it was really like… growing up under him.”

You looked over at him, meeting his amber gaze. There was something raw in his eyes, a memory or a series of memories too heavy to keep locked away. You approached quietly, your footsteps muted in the soft ground, and took a seat on a low rock near the water’s edge. Lucien followed suit, sinking down beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him in the mild dawn chill.

“My father,” he continued, drawing a shaky breath, “wasn’t just cruel as a High Lord—he was cruel as a parent, too. Some days, it was the smallest thing that would set him off: a gesture, a slip of the tongue. Other days, it was nothing at all. He… he thrived on instilling fear, on making all of us believe we were never quite good enough.”

His words hung in the air like an echo, and you felt your heart clench at the thought of a young Lucien forced to navigate that sort of chaos. You wanted to reach out, to rest a comforting hand over his, but you kept still, sensing he needed to release these memories in his own way.

“My mother,” Lucien went on, the faintest tremor in his voice, “was the opposite. She tried her best to protect me from Beron’s temper, to shield me and my brothers from his worst impulses. It wasn’t easy, and… well, you can guess how things ended up. But she loved me fiercely, abundantly. I think it’s what saved me, that knowledge that at least one parent cared. Genuinely.” A wistful smile ghosted over his lips, gone as quickly as it came. “She was quiet about her affection when he was around, but behind closed doors, she was everything a mother should be—kind, supportive, protective.”

You exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “She sounds incredible. I wish I could have known her.”

Lucien’s gaze flickered with gratitude. “She is. And it was she who first asked Eris to keep an eye on me. That might sound strange, I know—Eris, of all people. But he wasn’t always… well, he wasn’t always what he is now. At least, not with me.” He paused, brow furrowing slightly. “He could be cold, quick to anger, but there were times when he’d intervene if things got too bad with Beron. It’s why I can’t hate him entirely, not the way some of our other brothers do. He protected me when it truly mattered.”

A gentle hush settled between you, the soft ripple of the watering hole and the rustle of leaves in the breeze the only sounds cutting through the dawn. Your heart was pounding, heavy with empathy and unspoken understanding. Lucien had revealed so much of himself—his pain, his past, the people who shaped him.

“And the rest of your brothers?” you asked softly, aware of how fragile this moment felt. “I know there are… many.”

A humorless laugh escaped him, bitter edges clinging to the sound. “They mostly hated me. Saw me as weak because Mother favored me, or perhaps because I was the youngest. Or maybe it was just Beron’s poison that seeped into everything. He pitted us against each other. Turned us into rivals. And after I left the court for good…” He trailed off, a sorrowful light in his eyes. “I suppose they wrote me off. Or, more likely, they never think of me at all.”

Silence settled again, deeper this time, weighted by all the memories and regrets Lucien had just laid bare. Without overthinking, you reached out and rested your hand on his arm, your thumb brushing gently against the fabric of his jacket. It was a small act of comfort, but you hoped it would say what words could not—that you heard him, that you saw him, and that you cared.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “No one deserves that kind of upbringing.”

Lucien’s gaze flicked to where your hand touched his arm, and a flicker of warmth softened his expression. “It’s all right,” he said, though the catch in his throat betrayed him. “I’ve lived with it for a long time. Talking about it helps, I think.”

He set his free hand over yours, gently squeezing. A delicate beam of sunlight caught in his hair, highlighting the copper tones, and for a heartbeat, the two of you were perfectly still—two people who had traveled so many miles, endured so many struggles, and found a measure of solace in one another’s presence.

When at last Lucien drew away, a faint smile touched his lips. “Thank you. For listening.”

“Always,” you replied, your voice barely above a breath.

The horses stirred behind you, drawn to the water, and the moment shifted. But even as you both rose to tend to the animals, the Dawn Court’s sky now blazing in pink and gold overhead, you knew that something had changed between you. You’d peeled back another layer of Lucien’s guarded heart, and in doing so, had opened yourself up to the kind of bond that could either mend you both—or break you altogether. For now, you chose to let hope settle in your chest, buoyed by the promise of dawn and the faint trace of Lucien’s touch lingering on your skin.

The Dawn Court’s gentle magic seemed to cradle you both as you traveled deeper into its lands, where the sky forever hovered between the last shades of night and the earliest colors of morning. Soft lavender clouds floated overhead, their undersides brushed with gold. In the distance, pale hills rolled into the horizon, blanketed in fields of wildflowers that looked as though they had stolen the very colors of sunrise for themselves. Everything here whispered of beginnings—fresh starts, second chances—and perhaps that was why Lucien found it easier to open up in this place, where dawn’s light might cast away shadows of the past.

You had been riding for most of the morning, the conversation between you and Lucien ebbing and flowing with comfortable ease. Sometimes you talked about mundane things—the best tack for your horses, the surprising flavor of Dawn Court tea, small jokes and observations about the people you passed on the road. Other times, you fell into quieter moments, letting the hush of the open road surround you. But there was a notable shift in Lucien’s demeanor. He seemed lighter, as if the bitter memories he had shared with you at the watering hole had momentarily loosened their grip on him.

Eventually, you came upon a small village nestled at the base of a pale, sloping hill. The houses were low and built of sun-bleached stone; the roofs sparkled under the gentle daylight as though dusted with starlight. A winding stream ran through the center of the settlement, a ribbon of glittering water that reflected the pastel sky overhead. Lucien proposed you stop there for a short rest, and you readily agreed. You could use a break from the saddle, and you couldn’t deny you wanted more time in this peaceful realm—more time with him.

A local baker, cheeks ruddy from the warm ovens, directed you to a quiet courtyard where you could hitch your horses. The courtyard was bordered by slim, arching trees whose leaves were tinted with silver on the underside, rustling in the perpetual dawn breeze. Lucien handed you a small pastry—flaky, filled with a sweet fruit compote—and you laughed when he coaxed you to try it, proclaiming it a specialty of the region.

“Better than Summer Court fruit?” he teased, a playful sparkle lighting his eyes.

You took a bite, rolling your eyes in mock challenge. “You’re just trying to one-up Tarquin, aren’t you?”

His grin spread slowly, more genuine than you’d seen before. “I’d never admit to such a thing,” he said, his tone light, though the humor in it was real. The tension lines that so often pinched the corners of his eyes and mouth were markedly softer now. He looked… happy.

You leaned against the trunk of one of those silver-leafed trees, watching as he broke off a piece of the pastry for himself. That fragile warmth in your chest—something that had been growing steadily since your journey began—glowed brighter. You couldn’t help but notice the way your pulse skipped whenever he smiled at you. Or the twist of quiet anger that bubbled up when you remembered what he had told you of Elain—how she wouldn’t return his feelings, how she had turned him away time and again. It grated at you, how someone could ignore a man who had endured so much, how they could cast aside the vulnerability he offered so rarely.

It felt selfish to think like that—Elain’s story was hers, and maybe she had reasons you didn’t know. But still, you couldn’t stop the frustration from gnawing at you, at her seeming rejection of someone who was worth so much more than he gave himself credit for.

“Thinking about something?” Lucien asked, drawing you back to the present. He dusted his hands free of pastry crumbs, then stepped closer, tilting his head as he studied your face.

You realized you’d been staring at him—at the faint freckles on his nose, at the slight curve of his lips. Heat rushed to your cheeks. “Just… random thoughts,” you managed, though your voice sounded strangely breathless even to your own ears.

He nodded once, gaze flicking away as if politely choosing not to press. You respected that about him—his ability to give you space while still being open. He turned slightly, letting his attention wander over the sleepy village. Children played in the distance, their laughter weaving through the streets. A few villagers tended to gardens, brimming with soft, dawn-colored flowers that drank in the perpetual half-light. Everything felt caught in that threshold between night and day—like Lucien, in so many ways, suspended between past pain and future hope.

“It’s strange,” he said at length, slipping back into that gentle, confessional tone you had grown to treasure. “Feeling this… peace. Traveling with you, seeing these courts—helping them—it’s unlike anything I’ve done before. Maybe it’s because I never really had the chance to just… be.” He paused, as though searching for the right word. “With Elain, things are always tense, always so painfully uncertain. I don’t blame her for that, truly. She never asked for our bond, and I can’t force her to accept it. But every moment with her feels like… I’m waiting on a precipice, wondering if she’ll finally see me.”

His expression dimmed slightly, the ghost of heartbreak flickering across his features. As much as you wanted to rail at Elain for hurting him—even unintentionally—you couldn’t ignore the sincere love he still harbored for her. It both warmed and pained you in equal measure.

“Do you still hope she will?” you asked softly. Your heart squeezed painfully at your own question, but part of you needed to know.

Lucien sighed, looking down at his boots as though the dusty cobblestones held an answer. “I… don’t know. Part of me will always hope. It’s my nature, I guess—to hold onto that little spark. But lately…” His eyes lifted to yours, that flicker of warmth returning. “Lately, I’ve been wondering if there could be something else for me. Something that doesn’t revolve around a bond that might never be accepted.”

Something else. Something… or someone.

His gaze caught yours, a quiet intensity there that made your pulse pound. Did he mean you? Or was he simply speaking in generalities, about finding a purpose beyond waiting for Elain?

Your throat felt tight, but you managed a small smile. “Whatever you choose, Lucien, you deserve someone who sees you as you are. Not as a burden, or an inconvenience, or an unwanted tie, but as a man worthy of love and happiness.”

He froze for a moment, the air between you suddenly alive with unspoken sentiment. Then, that slow, genuine smile returned. “I’m starting to believe that might be possible,” he said softly, amber eyes glowing with something close to gratitude. Or perhaps hope.

You swallowed hard, your own emotions tangling up in your chest. You wanted to shake Elain for not seeing him—this Lucien who was open, kind, protective, and so very ready to give his heart. But you also recognized how deeply your own feelings were rooting themselves inside you, pulling you closer to him in ways that were both exhilarating and terrifying. You had never expected your mission—your dream of traveling Prythian—to lead to this.

“Well,” you said, voice trembling slightly, “if there’s anything I can do to help… you only have to ask.”

Lucien’s smile deepened, and you caught the faintest hint of color warming his cheeks. “I appreciate that, more than you know.”

You stayed there for a while longer, the conversation drifting in and out of serious topics. He told you more about his childhood—fond recollections of his mother reading to him by the fire, the way Eris would covertly slip him books or sweets when Beron wasn’t watching. Amid these small rays of kindness were darker tales, too—brothers who mocked him, a father who used fear as a weapon. Each new story made you both ache for him and marvel at how he had risen above it all.

Yet there was no denying the lightness that settled over him now, in the Dawn Court’s hush. His laughter came more easily, free of the ghosts that so often haunted his eyes. He teased you about your knack for stumbling into interesting situations, and you teased him right back about his tendency to hide behind wit and sarcasm. For once, he didn’t bristle at the observation, only shrugged with a lopsided grin.

When the sun climbed a little higher—though never truly reaching full day in this eternal sunrise realm—you both decided it was time to press on. With the horses rested and watered, you saddled up again, exchanging a quick, companionable glance. Something about this land, about your shared experiences, had forged a deeper bond between you. It was as if you were both stepping onto a new path, leaving old hurts and uncertainties behind in the gentle glow of dawn.

As you rode out of the village and resumed your journey, your mind wandered back to that moment—when he mentioned something else, something beyond Elain. The hope in his eyes, the quiet thanks he offered when you told him he deserved happiness. It replayed in your thoughts, making your pulse flutter each time.

And with every stolen glance and every smile he gifted you, you felt the terrifying thrill of falling deeper into something you couldn’t name. All you knew was that here, in the Dawn Court, amidst pastel skies and rolling hills forever suspended between night and day, you and Lucien seemed to be forging something new together—something that made the day brighter and the long road ahead far less lonely.

TAGLIATELLE

@littlest-w01f @rcarbo1 @mirandasidefics @thelov3lybookworm @lilah-asteria @megscabinetofcurios @thecraziestcrayon @surielstea

#fanfic #x reader #acotar #acomaf #acowar #angst #acourtofthornsandroses #acosf #pro lucien #lucien vanserra #elain x lucien #lucien x reader #lucien acotar #lucien vandaddy #eris vanserra #eris acotar #beron vanserra #beron acotar #dawn court

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j4keluver · 8 months ago

Text

To All The Boys I've Loved Before: To Whom it may concern, I like you

casting: reader as lara jean, heeseung as peter kavinsky, sunghoon as reader's older brother, jungwon as josh sanderson, jay as greg, sunoo as lucas, ni-ki as kitty | ft... yunjin as chris, chaewon as gen

warning : explicit sexual implication (no smut) , swearing

synopsis: you've always dreamed of finding the picture perfect boyfriend but high school boys suck. whenever you get feelings so intense but can't put it to words, you write a letter that gets stuffed into a hidden blue box. so why is yang jungwon, your neighbor, walking towards you with a letter in his hand and why are you kissing lee heeseung, gen's boyfriend?

author's note: here's our first officially teaser of the series ! me and tiana (@luvj4key) have been working very hard to produce this series and we are so glad to see many of you loving it ! we still have a lot of responsibilities in our outside life out of tumblr so please be patient and understand that we are doing our best to create quality work for you guys. thank you for all the love ! and we will continue to answer question and build up your anticipation <3

The feeling of the grass tickles your finger tips, almost making you throw a light laugh. The low lit sun kisses your skin and the scent of the earth breathes into your system. It's a sense of freedom and warmth that you can only delve into when getting lost in the carefully written pages and pages of a love story.

In the distance, there is a young boy that seems to enjoy the earth's presence. Sun-bathed skin that soaks up the sun's welcoming rays, playful eyes that hold a keen stare, and flushed cheeks that only Aphrodite could have blessed him with. But it's not just anybody - It's Yang Jungwon.

He catches your stare and gives you a wistful smile, slowly making his way to you. You can only stand still when he finally appears right in front of you. His calloused hands reach up to your face to caress the soft skin of your cheek. Jungwon's eyes flutter closed and it's like your eyes close on command. He leans in ever so slightly, the tip of his nose touching yours in a light nudge. His breath is getting closer to your lips until -

"Hey ! What was that for?" you groan. The pillow Riki just threw at you is now somewhere on the ground onto of a mountain of unfolded laundry. You look up to him from your book to see him leaning on your door frame.

"Well in case you didn't notice, dinner is about to be ready. We've called you like six times," he rolls his eyes. Sunghoon pops up from behind him, "Yeah peanut. If you weren't reading those shitty books, you would have noticed that Dad made your favorite."

"I'm coming, I'm coming. I just finished this chapter," you shooed them away. You put on a pair of slippers and stop at the bottom step when the door opens and a familar frame greets you. The man of the hour again - Yang Jungwon.

"Hoon, Riki," Jungwon says, pulling in them for a quick hug and a firm pat on the back. "Sick ! Jungwon brought the new fifa game. This is why you're better than Sunghoon. " Riki exclaims. Sunghoon smacks the backside of his head while Riki sheepishly mumbles an apology.

Jungwon makes eye contact with you and raises his hand for a high-five which you comply . Jungwon whispers, "My favorite siblings out of all of you guys but don't tell them that !"

You can only softly laugh, knowing he loved this household more than his own. Your dad calls out to him, ushering him the the kitchen. Jungwon winks at you before walking over.

Yang Jungwon was someone that you were almost too familiar with. The Yangs moved into the house next door when you were in the sixth grade, Sunghoon was in seventh, and Riki was in fifth. You still remember young Jungwon, hiding behind his mother's leg and peeking over with his cat-like eyes.

Jungwon's mother gave him a little nudge, "Don't be shy Jungwon, they won't bite you." You tilt your head at him before deciding to give him a small wave and offer a cheeky smile. With that, it seems like Jungwon's shell had cracked as his dimple peeked through when he smiled back.

Your brother immediately invited him in to play some video games which he just nodded too. Every since then, it was like Jungwon lived at your house. Heck, sometimes he knew your house better than you did. He came after school to get tutored by Sunghoon and he would come on the weekend to play soccer with Riki, only seeing you in fleeting moments.

Jungwon was techincally your first boyfriend. Well - space between boy and friend. You would bike to school together, eat lunch together, be each other's lab partners and join the same clubs. You guys were insperable until high school. Your dynamic was very different in high school than middle school.

Jungwon towered five inches taller than eight grade graduation, leaving him at a staggering 5'10. His jaw was more defined, cheekbones more prominent. He made the soccer team so he was frame was lean and his skin was sun-kissed from all the outside practices. And the most biggest change; the girls

Jungwon had always been attractive, at least in your eyes. But his new profound looks made him extremely popular with Adler High. You changed a little from middle school. You opted to wear contacts than your glasses, you got your braces off and you finally learned how to make your eyeliners twins and not cousins. But it was nothing compared to the 360 Jungwon made.

He tried to keep your connection strong, even when he got his first girlfriend. He would still come over on Friday after school for movie nights, and still had the usual routine with your siblings. However, you didn't know that a random Friday would be your last movie night.

In your defense, you didn't mean to ease drop on him and Sunghoon's conversation but you're glad did. You, Sunghoon and Jungwon were having a late night conversation in the backyard before you excuse yourself to grab some water.

You come back with three water bottles until you stop in your tracks as you heard Sunghoon ask Jungwon, "So THE Yang Jungwon isn't a virgin anymore huh? How was she?" You quickly hid behind the wall, trying to control your shaky hands. Jungwon laughs, "Dude her head game was insane, had me rolling my eyes and shit. And the way her walls sucked me in, literal stars."

Did Jungwon actually say that or are you imagining things? It wasn't until you heard Sunghoon hollers, "Let's fucking go Jungwon, I see you." Your face feels hot and you feel your eyes brimming with tears. But what are you crying for? Are you upset that he is disrespecting women or are you upset that you realized you're in love with him and he just confessed that he lost his virginity? Both? You take a deep breath and wait for their conversation to go still before heading out.

You drop off the waters to them and make up some excuse about a throbbing headache, clutching onto your temples. You hug them goodnight, holding onto Jungwon for a second longer than usual. You cry yourself to sleep.

Jungwon persists for the next month, constantly asking what was wrong and if there was anything he could fix. He would ask your brothers what's wrong, to which they only shrugged their shoulder not knowing the answer. He would text you and you would simply keep telling him it was personal reasons.

He stops trying one month and three weeks in, probably because his girlfriend wouldn't be so happy if she sees how much effort he is putting into you. From then on, things are a little awkward but manageable. You only see him in passing moments.

Jungwon and his first girlfriend eventually break up but he quickly gets with Kim Minji, a cheerleader for Adler high, and they're still together till now.

You take your sit at the dining table next to Sunghoon. Sunghoon plates your food for you, "Eat up, you won't have me to remind you when I'm in Ireland." You just sigh and say a 'thank you.'

Your dad starts, "So Jungwon, How's Minji? Haven't seen her around in a while." Sunghoon's eyes widen while Jungwon awkwardly clears his throat. His eyes dart around and he subconsciously makes eye contact with you. You raise an eyebrow at him before he looks away.

"Oh we've just been busy and stressed with school that we haven't been able to see each other in a while. It's.. going okay." Jungwon manages to say before Riki changes the topic, talking about the new game Jungwon brought over.

The conversation between the five of you flow smoothly. You settle for going bed early since you're waking up early to see Sunghoon off in the morning. You hug your dad and Sunghoon goodnight and drop a kiss on Riki's head ("Stop doing that (Y/N), I'm old and manly now" You know he still loves to be babied.) You choose for a small wave to Jungwon before heading upstairs.

Sunghoon isn't a guy to get emotional and shed tears. You could count on your hands how many times you've seen Sunghoon cry. But here he was, stray tears falling down his cheek. Dad pats his back as Sunghoon sniffles. He gives Riki a quick hug, a rare moment between the brothers.

And when he gets to you, he pulls you into the tighest hug before leaving a big smooch on your head. He pulls back and sternly warns you, "Now peanut, listen to me very closely. Now with your older, hot, manly, strong brother away, boys are going to try to approach you and you will turn down every single one. You understand? Especially the Lacrosse team."

You don't really focus on the words you say as your own tears start to well up in your eyes where Sunghoon only coos at you and hugs you tighter. The three of your wave to Sunghoon as he walks through his gate. You look back to see if he's looking back. He's not and it finally hits you that for this school year, you're on your own (minus riki)

taglist: @dimplewonie @wooziswife @bunnbam (unable to tag)

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #kim sunoo #lee heeseung #jake sim #park jay #park sunghoon #yang jungwon #nishimura riki #j4keluver and luvj4key tatbilb collab💌

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kquil · 1 year ago

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🍪 : cookie with Remus and giving their baby a bath. Like sitting in the tub together and bathing the baby 😭💕

A/N : here's the final installment of this mini series! i hope you darlings enjoy!

“What the?” Remus exclaims as you suddenly enter with nothing but a towel wrapped around you and your naked son held up against your hip.

“Da!” little Alfie squeals in delight at the sight of his father and immediately reaches his arms out to him. At the sight of your son’s tiny hands making grabbing motions at Remus, you promptly comply and hand him over to your husband. As Alfie immediately takes to the water and splashes about, disturbing your husband’s peace and stretching an amused grin across his lips, you rummage around to get out a few of Alfie’s bath toys. You settle with a classic yellow rubber duck, a blue spurting whale and a little floating plastic boat.

Remus watches as you place the toys in the bath before unwrapping the towel around you and hanging it up. As your husband helps your son sink (for the little bubbles) and unsink his little boat (to do it over again - for the bubbles), you slip into the water on the other side of the tub with another plastic boat in your hands.

“Alfie look~” you steal his attention in the midst of him hitting the plastic boat against the surface of the water over and over again. Once you have his full attention, you let your little boat sail peacefully across your side of the tub with a gentle push. Observing your actions, your son mimics what you do before clapping and looking up at you for approval, “well done Alfie~” you praise gently, watching fondly as your son smiles with a giggle before turning to your husband with the same look.

“Good job, Al,” Remus muses in his deep, soothing voice. In his father’s hold, Alfie attempts to climb up Remus’s chest and does so with the help of your husband’s supporting hands against his sides, “what are you up to buddy?”

“Da! Da!” Alfie calls.

“That’s me,” you smile at their adorable interaction and sigh in relief. This was the right choice. Remus had been quite exhausted after the full moon a few days ago, even when the boys came over to transform with him as animagi, you can tell that the recent transformation took a lot out of him. He’s been so exhausted and lethargic recently that he couldn't bear you and Alfie catching sight of him outside your usual check ups and meal deliveries. But you and Alfie missed him dearly, he had been so fussy without his father, so this was your attempt at finally confronting Remus of his horrible avoidance habit without actually confronting him. It was then when Alfie placed a small hand over the uneven texture of a scar across Remus’s cheek. Of course your son is smart, even from a young age — he is Remus’s afterall.

“What a smartie pants,” you coo, inching forward to kneel in between Remus’s legs as you bring up a hand to lovingly stroke back his hair, “just like his father,”

Tears surface in Remus’s eyes as he sees pure, unadulterated love filling your eyes and the guilt of it all makes his chest tighten. It’s almost too much to bear and he makes the mistake of looking at his son again, who coos happily in his arms, gently patting at his scar with a smile, “I’m ashamed…” I should trust you more by now…

“Don’t be Rem,” you kiss his temple sweetly, “Alfie and I just missed you so much, didn’t we, hon?” you ask softly, giggling at the look Alfie gives you after seeing how you kissed your husband. It’s the look he usually gives you when he wants a kiss too so you lean down and comply with your son’s silent plea. With a kiss on his tiny button nose, he instantly became a giggling mess.

“I missed you too…” Remus smiles and kisses Alfie’s forehead before leaning forward to capture your lips in a kiss as well. It would have been a long, love-filled kiss if it weren’t for your son attacking you with a spray of water using his Whale toy.

“I guess he just missed being a nuisance huh?” Remus says in amusement and raises his giggling son out of the water to blow raspberries against his plush belly.

“He gets that from you~” you tease and Remus smirks, all too proud of his origins as a Marauder, causing havoc throughout Hogwarts.

“He’ll be sure to get a pretty lady in the future then,” Remus hums thoughtfully as Alfie takes his whale toy and sinks it into the water, watching in awe at the bubbles that surface above it.

“Why’s that?”

“Because causing trouble got me you and you’re the prettiest lady around,”

1K MILESTONE EVENT | NAVI.

#☀︎ : 1k milestone #☀︎ : 1k #🍪 : cookie 1k #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus x reader

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thisblogisaboutabook · 8 months ago

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Wicked Felina (The Girl That I Love)

Part 3 - Vampire

Azriel x Reader/Rhysand’s Sister - Angst

Elain and Azriel have a moment while Tamlin and Felina reconnect. Rhys winnows his sister away following a panic attack, leaving Azriel and Tamlin to face each other one-on-one. After poor decisions are made, Azriel must answer to his High Lady. If only Feyre realized how much danger she’s in.

Part 2 Series Masterlist Part 4/Prequel

Warnings: blood, violence, self-loathing, panic attack resulting from past heartbreak and trauma, language

To Azriel, it felt like an eternity. An eternity of standing there watching his mate in the arms of a male he despised, reviled. And Felina, she looked like she was home. Like she’d just found solace after centuries of wandering alone and weary.

And fuck, it made him a bastard but it gutted him. He wanted, no, needed, to scoop her right out of his arms and carry her to a place where it was just him and her. They had so much to address. All they’d done was fed and fucked after Azriel had been turned, he thought there’d be plenty of time for talking once the bloodlust and mating frenzy settled but then everything had gone to shit.

He was so happy to have this female he adored back in his life - but to him, she was so new and he didn’t know how to feel. Because when he looked into those eyes, he still saw that swirling darkness. Not the dancing of stars he’d once adored when they were young but, the darkness of being trapped, locked away, tormented by those who should have been trustworthy. A darkness he could recognize all too well.

Where had she been all those years?

A gentle hand landed on his shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked to find the brown doe-eyes of Elain, looking to him with concern - guilt.

“Can we talk for a moment?” She whispered.

Azriel felt the muscles of his jaw tighten. The thought of leaving Felina with Tamlin made him sick.

“Not now, Elain.” He grit a bit more harshly than intended. Her eyes cast downward and he saw the hurt flicker across her soft features.

Gods, looking at her now, he didn’t know how he’d ever thought the cauldron made a mistake. She was lovely, a kind soul, she was good.

But his mate - she was wild, curious about the world around her, stars eternal. At least, she had been in her youth. Somehow being turned only amplified her into a force that had yet to be reckoned with, dark and mysterious. She was fucking everything.

She started to turn away and the guilt struck Azriel. His words of “this was a mistake.” on that cursed solstice weighing heavily between them. He could give her a moment of his time.

So, he followed her. “Elain, wait.” He spoke softly, his long strides effortlessly catching him up to her. “Let’s speak over there.” Nodding his head toward a bistro set that was far enough away from the foyer for privacy, but close enough that he could monitor.

The Shadowsinger pivoted away from the situation just long enough that he missed Felina turning her head to search for him, just to see him walking away with the delicate female.

Elain seated herself at the small table, rays of sunlight shone through the window, casting a golden hue upon her hair, rendering the middle Archeron sister nearly blonde. Her leg bounced with anxiety as Azriel took a seat across from her, sending up his shadows to block the rays.

“I-“ Elain started. “Azriel, I am so sorry. This is my fault. Lucien and I have been writing, we’ve been trying to get to know eachother. I mentioned to him about the reunion between Rhys and his sister.”

Azriel pressed his lips into a line, shuffling through his thoughts and treading carefully. “It’s fine-“

“No,” she interjected. “It’s not. I only told him because I’d had a vision of blood, shadow, and night. It alarmed me but… nobody listens to me, Azriel. They don’t understand my visions, I- I don’t either. But Lucien, he listens. He tries to help. So when she showed up, and when we realized that she- and you- were turned, I realized what the vision meant. So I told him.”

Her glassy eyes looked to him. “I had no idea about Tamlin. And I think, I think I understand why Lucien told him. He knew, about the history between she and Tamlin. But I had never mentioned all that you were going through, that she’s your mate and that there are still so many unanswered questions. I’m SO sorry.”

Azriel shook his head. How could she have known? Azriel was the gods-damned spymaster, he’d always cared for Felina and made a point to look after her, and he’d never known. He had seen a note from “Peter” once but just assumed it was some crush she’d made in Velaris. How had he never thought to look further into who she was seeing?

He knew the answer though. He always had. It was the same reason he’d never looked into Lucien’s whereabouts, or Graysen’s.

But he wasn’t ready to face that right now. The jealousy he’d harbored in those days and the well of emotions and complicated histories that it would bring to light.

So, he took a steadying breath and softened his gaze as he met her wide eyes. “Elain, it’s okay. None of us knew about their history and,” he reached a scarred hand out to brush her arm, a friendly act of reassurance. “I’m happy that Lucien is helping. Your visions are worth listening to, your voice is worth hearing.”

Elain gave a smile that didn’t meet her eyes, he could see the guilt there. And while Azriel was certainly not thrilled to see Tamlin there, he harbored no ill-will toward Elain, or Lucien for that matter, for Tamlin’s appearance today.

A sharp cry pierced the air as Felina pulled herself away from Tamlin. And Azriel almost, almost, felt a twinge of empathy for the male at the look of pain crossing his features.

“No, no, no.” Felina whimpered covering her ears, tears falling from her eyes. Azriel was on his feet in a moment, winnowing to her side as her breathing increased, pulling her in close - Felina opened her eyes, glistening with tears, and Azriel felt an intense jolt of heartbreak tug on their bond.

“I remember.” She choked out, pushing away from his embrace. She looked so small in that moment, so broken. Azriel placed a palm to his chest, as if physically feeling the pain barreling down the bond. “What is it, Felina?”

“I- I don’t. I’m sorry. I can’t-” she cried, her voice barely audible. But her next word came out clear, “Rhys?” Her brother looked to her with such sympathy, such tenderness. “What is it little star?” He asked, stepping to her side, shrouding the two of them in darkness. Azriel’s shadows whispered in his ear.

“Sad.”

“Hurt.”

“Mate.”

He couldn’t make out what was said but one moment Rhys had her in his arms, and the next, they were gone.

Rage filled Azriel as his mate vanished. Fixing his icy gaze toward a downcast Tamlin, his shadows whirled, promising violence. Elain hurried out the front door leaving just the two males. And Azriel was going to kill him.

In an instant, Azriel tackled Tamlin, fists brutally making impact with his face. “What did you do to her!?” He roared, pain filling him. Tamlin didn’t make any effort to hit Azriel, only turning his head and freeing an arm from beneath the Shadowsinger’s weight to block what he could.

Azriel was going to make this brutal, ensure Tamlin felt every ounce of pain the past centuries had brought upon them. “Nothing!” Tamlin choked out, blood filling his mouth. “I did nothing. I swear.”

“No.” Azriel spoke, landing a fist to Tamlin’s cheek. “Nothing is what you did while Feyre was fighting for her life, for Prythian, under the mountain. Nothing is what you did when your family tried to kill my mate- and her mother.” Another blow landed, this time cracking Tamlin’s nose, the metallic tang of blood filling the air. “Nothing,” Azriel spat. “Is what you are.”

It was then that Tamlin went still. All attempts of defense dropping as the words echoed through the room.

“Fight! You fucking coward!” Azriel shoved at his chest.

Tamlin turned his head to the side, vacantly staring off to the other end of the room, eyes going vacant as the weight of Azriel’s words settled within him. “You’re right.” Tamlin whispered. “I am nothing.”

The sound of Tamlin’s ragged breaths and Azriel’s heavy gasps filled the space. More blood trickled down the Spring Court High Lord’s face. “I am nothing and she is everything.” Tears lined the males eyes. “But I didn’t say anything, today. She she looked to see you walking away, she saw you with the Archeron sister, watched you caress her arm, and then she crumpled.”

Azriel gaped, his heart shattering. He was the one who’d caused her pain? Azriel let out an enraged roar, so low and loud that it rattled the windows. At that moment, the front door flew open. Feyre and Lucien entered the foyer, taking in the sight before them. The blood running down Tamlin’s face, dripping onto his tunic and splattering on the floor; Azriel’s disheveled state, his shadows snaking around him angrily, the blood coating his knuckles.

“What did you do?” Lucien ground out, stepping in Azriel’s direction.

Elain stood outside the doorway holding Nyx, excusing herself to remove the winged babe from the confrontation.

“What did HE do?” Feyre scoffed. “He’s not the one intruding in our home.”

Lucien only gave her a side-eye, swallowing whatever smart retort he had at the ready. “What. Happened?” the youngest Vanserra’s russet eye bounced back and forth between the two, the golden one whirring with each motion.

Tamlin and Azriel both stood there, like petulant children before a reprimanding father, neither speaking.

Finally, Tamlin broke the silence. “It was my fault. I’m leaving.” Azriel didn’t miss the sadness in his eyes as he looked to Lucien and Feyre and left.

“Tam, wait.” Lucien called out, but he’d already winnowed away.

Feyre looked to Azriel with a frown. “Given the state of Tamlin’s nose and your fist, something tells me this wasn’t just Tamlin’s fault. What the hell happened, Azriel?”

“I’d like to know the same.” Lucien chided, tanned arms crossing over his chest. Azriel’s hazel eyes narrowed in his direction. “You don’t need to know anything else, considering you can’t keep your mouth shut, Vanserra. You’re the reason he showed up in the first place.”

Lucien gaped, a rare show of the clever fox being caught off guard, before muttering “Shit.” He looked to the blood splattered floor, shaking his head. “I need to go find him.”

With that, he was out the door. Azriel let out a sigh, looking toward the stairwell as if Felina were up in their shared chamber and not wherever the hell Rhys had winnowed her to.

Feyre, ever the High Lady, held her head high, waiting for her spymaster to explain himself. “I need to get some air.” He muttered, making to move past her. “Oh no, you don’t.” Her hand grasped his shoulder, bringing him to a halt. “We are not finished here.”

And damn it, if she wasn’t the one person who could get him to listen right now. Rhys was one thing. Azriel could toe the line with him, test boundaries, display that icy rage that so often flowed through his veins.

But Feyre, he had no doubt that she could handle his rage as well but she was different. She had given everything for Prythian, even when she had absolutely no reason to give a damn about the fae. She was a good and just ruler. Not that Rhys wasn’t, but five-hundred years of brotherhood would jade anyone’s view, if only slightly.

So, Azriel stayed, hazel gaze fixing upon his High Lady, awaiting her next command. “Can we talk?” She asked gently, moving her tattooed hand down his arm. Azriel only nodded as she led him to the sitting room.

Situating herself on a tufted arm chair, Feyre smoothed her paint splattered dress, patiently waiting for Azriel to take his seat in the adjacent loveseat. “Elain came to find me at the studio, asking to reach out to get Lucien. She said Tamlin had shown up unannounced at the River House, that you two had talked, and something happened with Tamlin that upset Felina. Is that correct?”

Azriel nodded. It was mostly true. Was there really need to go into detail?

Feyre’s brow furrowed. “Look at me, Azriel.”

He flicked his hazel eyes to her briefly before looking back toward the entry. “You’re not telling me everything. It doesn’t take my daemati ability to see that, Az.” Her words held firm but her gaze gentle.

Emotions warred within Azriel. He didn’t want to talk to Feyre about this, about the way his heart clenches at the thought of losing Y/N - Felina - the name leaving a bitter taste in his mouth, knowing now where it originated from. At the same time, it was a support for her, a name that she held onto when nothing else made sense. He was a selfish bastard for resenting it.

However, he refused to feel selfish for the anger he felt toward Tamlin. He drew the line there. If she needed a friend, Azriel would be the first to offer that. If she needed Tamlin’s friendship, if somehow his presence were to aid in her healing? He’d swallow his pride and live with it.

He could support her, and her healing, while internally resenting Tamlin. For now it was the best he could do.

He knew he couldn’t lose control like he did this afternoon again. He’d likely have to make amends for that.

Consumed by thoughts he dropped his face into both hands, rubbing his eyes before leaning his head onto the backrest, arms crossing over his chest. Letting out a sigh of exhaustion. He couldn’t remember the last time he rested properly. Thank the gods for the unique design of this seat with indentions to accommodate Illyrian wings. The perfect spot for brooding comfortably.

A slight discomfort, however, began to set the Shadowsinger on edge. His body growing rigid.

“Hello?” Feyre’s voice invaded his mind, reminding him he still wasn’t alone.

“You’re rather persistent, High Lady.” he replied through the mental channel, that ache growing a bit stronger.

A soft laugh echoed. “Yes. Now tell me what happened.”

Azriel sent images to her, of Felina’s upset, Rhys winnowing her away, his own embarrassing outburst, the cruel words he’d spoken, the realization that he was the reason for her hurt and not Tamlin.

“That’s a lot to unpack. Speaking to you as High Lady, how you treated Tamlin was unacceptable - but, I know you are aware. From a political perspective, we should issue a formal apology at the very least. As a friend, however, you have been through a lot in a very short period of time and have so much to process. With such unusual circumstances and how new your accepted bond is - I cannot fault you for protecting her. We know so little about Vampyr bonds but I’m certain that also played a role.”

Azriel’s cheeks burned with shame. “Do you know where they went?”

His breathing increased, a metallic tang settling into his nose, seeping to his very bones.

A pause. “I do. She is safe but she needs to be with Rhys right now. Honestly, I think they both need it. He’s been on edge since she arrived.”

Azriel let out a huff, sitting upright and ending the mental connection to speak aloud. “I can understand that.”

Was the air in the house growing warmer or was that the increase in his pulse?

Sympathy flickered in those blue-gray eyes as Feyre reached out, placing a hand on Azriel’s knee. “I can’t imagine what this must feel like, Azriel, and I won’t pretend to, but things will work out in time. Perhaps the Mother knew what she was doing when she put someone with - today’s incident aside - such patience, when that is exactly what Y/N needs. What is it Amren used to tell Cassian about Nesta?” Feyre’s brows drew downward as she tried to remember.

Azriel’s restless state rendering him impatient as she searched for the words, he blurted out Amren’s saying, “Keep reaching out your hand.”

And fuck - he looked at his own hand now remembering the dried blood coating it, the blood that had filled his nostrils, when he rubbed his face.

Hunger. This was hunger. Oh gods-

His sharpened canines flashed as he looked to his High Lady, “Feyre-“

Her pulse fluttered deliciously.

Feyre’s eyes widened with realization. “Oh fuck.” She whispered, standing and stepping back from him. “Hold on, Az. It’s okay. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

And then he lunged.

———————————

Rhys sat in silence as his sister sobbed into his chest. He’d winnowed them directly to the cabin - the one that seemed at this point everyone used to avoid their own mate at some point or another.

Visions of past solstices danced in his mind. How she would sit and watch until her cheeks turned frigid. Cassian would tease her, telling her that any male that wanted to win her heart would have to take them all on in a snowball fight and come out alive. Rhys would chuckle and Az would wrap his scarf around her, or blow on her hands to warm them. He’d always cared for her. Rhys had thought in a brotherly sort of way, he knew for a fact that was how Azriel intended it, but now- he imagined it was the mating bond buried deep down, likely just starting to spark. He didn’t know whether to smile or cringe at that.

He’d become so lost in thought, holding his sister and running fingers through her raven locks that he hadn’t noticed her shutters slow down, her breathing evening out. “It looks different.” She whispered, shocking herself with the statement. “I remember this place. I think. It’s familiar, but not.”

Rhys smiled. “Well, that, my dear sister, would be because Amren and Morrigan went head to head and reduced the place to rubble a century or so ago. I rebuilt it the best that I could but made some changes - the tubs even accommodate Illyrian wings now. And Feyre darling, she added her own touches to the place.”

“Interesting…” she whispered. “I think our father would have keeled over had he seen that.”

Rhys rolled his eyes. “You’re not wrong. Our father never was the type to appreciate the arts, though he did enjoy your love of it. Not enough to let you paint the walls of any of our homes but- enough to take you to the theater whenever he could, enough to ensure the Rainbow was well-funded and thriving.”

Smiling sadly, he continued, “When I first saw the paintings here, I thought of you. How if you’d have been here, you would have been right there with her, painting along.”

Felina looked to her brother, trying so desperately to remember her old self. Who she’d once been.

“I never forgot you, sister. I’ve carried you in my heart every day, there was not a sunset that I didn’t think about the way your eyes shone with wonder as the stars appeared, about the nights you’d beg me to fly with you….wishing I’d have been there more often, wishing I’d said yes every time you asked.”

“Our past does not define us. What we do with today does.” She whispered, puzzling at her own statement. Rhys whipped his head toward her. “You remember more than you realize.”

She thought on her words. “Azriel. He used to say that, yes?”

Yes. Rhys nodded grimly, remembering the treatment his brother received as a child. “Do you remember what else he would tell you?”

“I don’t think I do.”

Rhys wrapped his arm around her shoulder, holding her closely.

“It’s the courage to continue that counts.”

Felina’s hands shook and Rhys gave them a squeeze. She whispered to herself “I am Y/N.” Her given name felt less foreign than she’d expected. “I am courageous. I will not be afraid.”

Rhys’ eyes glazed over, his posture going rigid. The grip of his hand squeezing more tightly onto his sister’s cold hand.

Suddenly she was brought into Rhys’ mind, Feyre’s voice frantic.

“It’s Azriel. He needs Felina. NOW.”

——————————————

A/n: If you read this chapter and think “Wow, Felina is being pretty dramatic over Elain” Please hold. There’s more to it that will be unpacked later - she has been through a lot and is still harboring centuries old feelings/emotions that feel recent to her as her memory slowly comes back.

Tags:

General ACOTAR tag: @lilah-asteria

Series tags: @glittervame @julesofvolterra @saltedcoffeescotch @candyjaypoppins @st4r-girl-official @nocasdatsgay @gxdsmonsters

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thatsdemko · 2 years ago

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uncle mason- m.mount

pairings: Mason mount x fem!reader

warnings: fluff + established relationship

a/n: I don’t know how old summer is so let’s pretend miss girl can talk! at this point I should just make a series called ‘uncle *insert name*’ lol! feedback is always appreciated xx. my requests are currently open!

summer loves her uncle mason, and it’s quite obvious. she’ll do anything to be with him, and that may include kicking you out of the way.

you’re okay with it, she’s adorable and Mason with summer is even more attractive than you could’ve imagined. like there was any possible way your boyfriend could get hotter, just add a kid that’ll do it.

the two are conjoined at the hip at all times, she’s sitting in his lap in the lounge chair, watermelon slice in hand, the juice drips onto his thighs. he doesn’t mind or seem to care, the little girl is clearly happy at the sweet taste and just the intimate moments with her uncle.

Mason knows soon enough she’ll grow up and not want to be spend time with him, it hurts his heart, he wishes she could stay this young forever. it’s why he puts in so much effort and attention to make sure she knows her uncle Mason loves her dearly.

“all done?” he asks, watermelon rye resting on his thigh, and his sister comes to pick it up for her. he watches summer squirm around in between his legs growing comfortable once more. she lays her head against his thigh allowing the warm rays of the sun to dance her skin in with pink and tan colors.

Mason takes a look over at you, smile irreplaceable. he can’t wait for his own kids to do this with him. you smile back at him, “she loves you, mase.” you say and he nods, red hue growing against his cheeks, you can’t tell if it’s him blushing or the sun finally getting to him.

“I love you too auntie y/n!” summer exclaims, wiggling her body out from masons and moving over to your lounge chair. she wiggles herself against your legs just like she did with Mason and he swears his heart is melting— matter of fact, it aches with pure happiness.

“I love you so much more, summer.”

“hey don’t forget about me.” Mason interjects, playful frown on his face, arms crossed over his chest pretending to be hurt. summer giggles at her uncles expression.

“be as cute as summer and maybe I’ll love you.” you joke watching him roll his eyes saying it’s impossible to be that cute.

“it’s okay uncle mason we still love you!”

#mason mount fanfic #mason mount x you #mason mount drabble #mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount fic #mason mount one shot #mason mount blurb #mason mount imagine #football oneshot #football imagines #football imagine #football one shot #football blurb #football fic #football blurbs #football fluff #mason mount fluff #chelsea fc

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mybutcheredtongue · 11 months ago

Text

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

harry potter timeline sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (see full series here)

1993

The school year draws to a close, with the school still chattering away about Sirius. You spend it relatively simply, teaching the last of your classes and then finally handing out end-of-year exam results. You're glad to see Hermione gets an almost perfect score — and Ron and Harry do...well, they do okay. You make a mental note to start buckling down on their incessant chatting during class.

You also spend it full of worries. Your every waking moment seems to be consumed with thoughts about Sirius. He's out there, all alone, on the run — you can't imagine how he's feeling right now. It ties knots in your stomach. You just want to grab and hold him, caress his soft, smooth skin, run your hands through his silky curls —

You miss him.

You sit in your compartment on the Hogwarts Express, flicking through the latest edition of The Quibbler. It's quite a unique little publication, very quirky. Luna Lovegood, one of your second years — her dad is the editor, so you decided to pick up the magazine after she recommended it to you once.

You're currently skim-reading a very in-depth article about some sort of creature called an 'epippinpor', when the door to your compartment slides open and Harry pokes his head inside.

"Harry!" you greet. "Need something?"

He holds out a folded piece of parchment, smiling. "Padfoot."

You take the parchment from him as he leaves, closing the door again. You beam excitedly, throwing down The Quibbler and pulling the parchment into your lap. Dubh gets up and starts to sniff the parchment curiously and you giggle, full of giddiness like you're a young teenager again.

My darling love,

I hope you get this before you've left Hogwarts, otherwise it may be quite some time before this letter reaches you. I decided to put your letter in with Harry's, because I'm sure your post is being monitored.

Buckbeak and I are in hiding, so you don't need to worry. I have so many questions to ask you, so many things to tell...I guess they'll just have to wait. I miss you, my love, just like you miss the stars during the daytime.

I hope I haven't lost my romantic flair.

Also, you're a professor now? Very professional, Professor Black. I suppose it does have a pretty sweet ring to it. And Astronomy, too? I'm still your favourite star, right?

You snort, rolling your eyes. Typical. You can just imagine his face when he wrote that: signature smirk, maybe a wink.

Can I get a kiss for that when we reunite again?

Typical!

I wish I could be with you this summer. At our home. Also...do you have a cat? I thought I saw you with a cat. Come on, love, we are obviously a dog home!

I miss you so much. I miss your voice, your warmth, your beautiful face, your kisses. Especially the last one. It's not easy to go twelve years without a single kiss...even if the Dementors offered me several. I love you with all of my heart. If you need me for anything, Harry's owl will find me. All my love, Sirius. P.S. I love you. I can't wait to see you again.

You smile at the letter, eyes tracing the edges of his scratchy handwriting. Your stomach is full of fluttering butterflies and it really does feel like you're a schoolgirl again. You re-read the letter several times, smiling especially wide when he says he loves you or compliments you.

No, Sirius. You didn't lose your romantic flair. Not one bit.

You reach out to pet Dubh, still holding the letter in your hand.

Maybe next year will be a little different.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

"Here you go," you say, handing Remus his cup of tea. He accepts it, careful not to spill a drop, and gives you a grateful smile.

"Thanks."

"So, any news?" You ask, pulling your legs up onto the couch and folding them in beside you as you look at the man in front of you. You're sitting in your living room, a wonderfully cosy little room, warmed by soft rays of August sunshine. There's green plants dotted around, and the walls have photos and beautiful paintings decorating it. There's even a few of Remus' original paintings up there!

One big hobby of Remus' is painting, though he is very secretive about it. He paints beautiful landscapes and still-lifes...it calms him.

One particular painting catches your eye. You had once asked him to paint you a nice, simple picture of pottery. A jug, a bowl, a plate...just general pottery works. It's quite nice.

Remus shrugs. "Nothing really since last we spoke. How are your parents?"

You stayed with your parents last week. Dubh had been put into Remus' care, as she always is, and she always comes back a little fatter than before because Remus is a big softie.

"They're grand, yeah," you reply with a shrug. "I told them everything that happened and honestly they were pretty nonchalant about it all, you know how they are...Mam thought I was very stressed and made me one of her special herbal teas and honestly, it was amazing. Felt young again."

"You are young," Remus says with a sigh.

"Sure don't feel it," you say bitterly. "Could do with a dose of that special tea every morning."

"So this tea isn't special?" Remus asks, gesturing to the cup in his hand.

"Not at all," you reply with a short chuckle. "I asked her what she puts in it, and she said it was an 'age-old secret only passed down when the last generation has ceased and the next lives on'. She's lying, of course, she's only saying that to be mysterious. I'm beginning to think that it's just the placebo effect."

Remus nods thoughtfully. "I think I'm going to trust your mother's words and say it is an age-old secret."

"Suck up."

He raises his mug and gives you a mocking smile. You sigh.

"And," you continue, "Dad took me to the muggle cinema, and we seen this film called 'Mrs Doubtfire'. Moony, when I tell you I sobbed — Merlin, muggles sure know how to make an emotional impact. I'm beginning to think that truly, wizards aren't better than muggles because they get to have cool films and we don't. It's unfair, really, if you think about it."

"'Mrs Doubtfire'? What was it about?" Remus asks.

"A woman called Mrs Doubtfire, obviously," you say and he rolls his eyes. "But turns out it's not actually a woman, it's this guy whose wife divorced him and can barely see his kids, so he pretends to be their babysitter and puts on a wig and a mask and fake tits and everything — "

"And that made you cry?"

"It was emotional! Then he gets caught and can only see the kids with someone supervising the visits! Isn't that sad, Moony? It's much sadder in the movie."

He raises his eyebrows, humming in weak agreement. "Right."

You scoff, sighing. "Anyway...Quidditch World Cup is coming up! And guess who's going?"

"You? No way, how did you get tickets?" Remus asks in shock.

You grin. "Minerva McGonagall, the gem that she is! Sent me a letter yesterday morning. Said she happened upon two tickets and asked me to go with her."

"I didn't know the two of you were such good friends."

You shrug. "Sometimes it can be a bit odd because she used to be my teacher, y'know — but she's such fun to be around. I mean, I've told you before that we have tea together sometimes."

He nods thoughtfully. "Mhm, yes, I remember."

"Anyway, I'm really looking forward to it! I wish I could bring you with me," you say with a small apologetic smile.

Remus waves you off. "It's a full moon. I daresay I might steal the spotlight off the teams if I attend."

You laugh. "That may be so."

→ all kinds of interaction are appreciated ♡

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

→→ read chapter fourteen here!

sorry for the extra-short chapter...just wanted to draw this year to a close. Goblet of fire next!!!

as always, a big thank you to my taglist loves for all their amazing kindness and support:

@wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @hyperspeedo @carpe000diem

#sirius black #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #angst #angst with a happy ending #harry potter #fanfiction #fanfic #the marauders #hp #marauders

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jinnieboosworld · 30 days ago

Text

The Nurse

Hyunjae x Female Reader

@deoboyznet @a-dream-bookmark @k-labels

Genre: RomCom, Fluff

Summary: While ice skating Lee Jaehyun slips and sprains his wrist. After being transported to the hospital he meets a nurse. A very pretty nurse.

Part of The MeetCute Series

Word Count: 3302

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Hyunjae had no idea how he’d been roped into this.

“It’s the holidays!” Sangyeon had said with that big, hopeful grin. “You’ve got to do something festive, Hyunjae!”

“Yeah,” Changmin had added with a teasing smirk. “Sitting at home binge-watching dramas does not count as festive.”

Chanhee, the practical one of the group, had already booked the tickets. “We’re going ice skating. It’ll be fun. And if you break something, it’s your fault for being clumsy.”

And that’s how Hyunjae found himself wobbling across the ice, his arms flailing like a newborn deer.

“Guys,” he called out, voice wavering. “I think I’m getting the hang of this!”

“No, you’re not!” Sangyeon shouted back, laughing as he effortlessly glided past him.

“Try not to die!” Changmin added, doing a playful spin.

Chanhee, skating backward like a show-off, raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I give him five more minutes.”

Hyunjae grumbled, determined to prove them wrong. He pushed off harder, his confidence soaring as he actually managed to move without tripping over his own feet. But then, out of nowhere, a tiny child zoomed past him at lightning speed, causing him to panic and lose his balance.

Before he could fully process what was happening, his skates slipped out from under him. He flailed wildly, arms reaching for anything to stop his fall, but gravity had other plans.

“Hyunjae, no!” Sangyeon yelled, reaching out too late.

With an ungraceful thud, Hyunjae hit the ice. His right hand took the brunt of the impact, and pain shot through his wrist like a lightning bolt.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

“I told you this would happen,” Chanhee muttered as they sat in the waiting room of the hospital’s urgent care center.

Hyunjae cradled his wrist, trying to look less miserable than he felt. “I think it’s just a sprain.”

“Let’s hope so,” Sangyeon said, patting his shoulder. “You’re too young to be this accident-prone.”

“Not to mention, this is so embarrassing,” Changmin chimed in with a grin. “Who gets injured doing holiday activities? It’s literally the most wholesome thing ever.”

Hyunjae was about to retort when a nurse entered the room, clipboard in hand. “Lee Jaehyun?”

The voice caught him off guard—not because of what it said, but how it sounded. Soft, clear, and with a hint of amusement. He looked up to see a young woman in scrubs standing by the doorway, her name tag reading Y/N L/N.

For a moment, Hyunjae forgot about the pain in his wrist.

“Come on,” Y/N said with a small smile, motioning for him to follow. “Let’s take a look at that wrist of yours.”

“Go on, lover boy,” Chanhee whispered, earning a glare from Hyunjae.

He stood up, cheeks flushing slightly, and followed Y/N into the exam room.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

“So,” Y/N began as she carefully unwrapped the makeshift ice pack from Hyunjae’s wrist, “how did this happen?”

“Ice skating,” Hyunjae said sheepishly. “Turns out, I’m not very good at it.”

Y/N chuckled, the sound making his heart skip a beat. “You’re not the first, trust me. We get a lot of skating injuries around this time of year.”

She examined his wrist with gentle hands, her touch light but precise. Hyunjae tried not to wince too much, though it was hard to focus on the pain when she was standing so close.

“It’s swollen,” Y/N noted, grabbing a small flashlight to check for bruising. “But I don’t think it’s broken. We’ll get an X-ray just to be sure.”

“Cool, cool,” Hyunjae said, trying to sound nonchalant. “You, uh, do this a lot?”

Y/N glanced at him, her expression amused. “Take care of patients? Yeah, that’s kind of my job.”

“No, I mean…” Hyunjae trailed off, realizing how dumb he sounded. “Never mind.”

Y/N smirked but didn’t push him to explain. Instead, she finished her initial assessment and handed him a form to fill out while they waited for the X-ray technician.

“Someone will come get you in a few minutes,” she said, turning to leave.

“Wait,” Hyunjae blurted out before he could stop himself. “Are you—uh—are you working tomorrow? I mean, if I have to come back or something…”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly biting back a smile. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, focus on not falling again.”

And with that, she walked out of the room, leaving Hyunjae staring after her like an idiot.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

When Hyunjae returned to his friends in the waiting area, they were all grinning like they knew something he didn’t.

“So?” Sangyeon asked. “How’s the wrist?”

“It’s fine,” Hyunjae mumbled, sinking into his chair. “Probably just a sprain.”

“And how’s Nurse Y/N?” Changmin teased, waggling his eyebrows.

Hyunjae shot him a glare. “She’s professional. And nice. That’s it.”

“Sure, sure,” Chanhee said, smirking. “But did you notice how hot she is?”

Hyunjae groaned, covering his face with his good hand. “You guys are the worst.”

Sangyeon laughed, clapping him on the back. “Hey, at least you got something good out of this disaster.”

Hyunjae rolled his eyes, but as his friends kept teasing him, he couldn’t help but think about Y/N’s smile. Maybe they weren’t entirely wrong.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Hyunjae spent the rest of the evening nursing his pride almost as much as his wrist. The X-rays confirmed it was just a sprain, but that didn’t stop his friends from teasing him relentlessly.

“You should’ve seen yourself,” Chanhee said, doubling over with laughter as they sat around Sangyeon’s living room. “You looked like a baby deer on ice.”

“Very festive, though,” Changmin added, grinning. “Like a reindeer. Just, you know, clumsier.”

Hyunjae rolled his eyes, throwing a pillow in their general direction. “You guys are the worst.”

“I don’t know,” Sangyeon said with a sly smile. “That nurse seemed to think you were pretty charming.”

That got their attention.

“She was just doing her job,” Hyunjae said quickly, but his ears turned pink, betraying him.

“Oh, come on,” Chanhee said, narrowing his eyes. “You were totally into her.”

“Guys,” Hyunjae groaned, leaning back on the couch. “Drop it.”

But even as they moved on to other topics, Hyunjae couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N. Her easy smile, the way her eyes crinkled slightly when she laughed, the calm confidence in her movements as she took care of him.

Yeah, he was screwed.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Two days later, Hyunjae found himself back at the hospital for a follow-up appointment.

“You’re back!” Y/N said as she walked into the room, clipboard in hand. She looked surprised but not displeased to see him.

“Yeah,” Hyunjae said, his heart doing a weird little flip. “Apparently, I’m supposed to be ‘monitored for improvement.’ Or something.”

Y/N chuckled, setting her clipboard down. “Let me guess. Dr. Kim’s orders?”

He nodded. “She’s thorough.”

“She is,” Y/N agreed. “But don’t worry. I’ll make this quick and painless.”

She gently took his wrist, checking the swelling and testing his range of motion. Hyunjae tried to focus on anything but the way her touch sent a jolt of electricity up his arm.

“You’re healing well,” Y/N said, scribbling something down on her clipboard. “Just keep icing it and avoid any more skating adventures.”

“No promises,” Hyunjae said, grinning.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “I mean it. If you end up back here, I might have to charge you for wasting my time.”

“Harsh,” Hyunjae said, feigning a wounded expression. “And here I thought we were becoming friends.”

Y/N laughed softly. “You’re charming, I’ll give you that. But I think you might be a little too clumsy to keep up with me.”

“Ouch,” Hyunjae said, placing a hand over his heart. “That’s cold, Nurse Y/N.”

She shrugged, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Just calling it like I see it.”

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Over the next couple of weeks, Hyunjae found excuses to drop by the hospital more often than strictly necessary.

“Hey, I just wanted to double-check that I’m doing this wrist exercise thing right,” he said one day, even though Dr. Kim had already explained it to him in excruciating detail.

Y/N gave him a knowing look but didn’t call him out on it. “Let’s see.”

Another time, he showed up with a box of chocolates. “Just a little thank-you gift for taking such good care of me.”

“Bribery,” Y/N said, shaking her head but accepting the chocolates anyway.

His friends noticed, of course.

“Are you serious?” Sangyeon asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re pretending to need medical advice just to see her?”

“Desperate,” Chanhee said, smirking.

“I think it’s kind of romantic,” Changmin chimed in.

“It’s not like that,” Hyunjae protested, but the pink tint to his ears gave him away.

Sure, he could argue that he was just being friendly, but deep down, he knew the truth. He wanted to see Y/N. He wanted to make her laugh, to hear her teasing remarks, to see if maybe—just maybe—she felt the same spark he did.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

One day, as Hyunjae sat in the waiting room, fiddling with his phone, he overheard Y/N talking to a colleague.

“So, how’s that guy who keeps coming in with the sprained wrist?” the colleague asked, her voice amused.

“He’s harmless,” Y/N said, laughing softly. “Honestly, it’s kind of cute how much effort he’s putting in.”

Hyunjae froze, his heart pounding. Cute?

He couldn’t decide if he was embarrassed or thrilled. Maybe a little of both.

When Y/N came out to greet him, her expression was as professional as ever, but he thought he caught a flicker of warmth in her eyes.

“Back again?” she said, crossing her arms.

“What can I say?” Hyunjae said, flashing her his best smile. “I can’t stay away.”

For the first time, Y/N looked a little flustered. It was brief—a blink-and-you’d-miss-it moment—but it was enough to give Hyunjae hope.

Maybe he wasn’t as hopeless as his friends thought.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Hyunjae didn’t think it was possible to spend so much time debating with himself over six words.

“Will you go out with me?”

It seemed so simple when Sangyeon suggested it—“Just ask her! What’s the worst that could happen?”—but now, sitting in the hospital parking lot with his sprained wrist officially healed, Hyunjae felt like a nervous wreck. He’d already seen Y/N twice this week for follow-ups, and each time, he left more smitten than before.

The idea of asking her out was terrifying, yet there was a voice in the back of his head urging him on. His mom’s words, casually spoken over the phone the night before, echoed in his mind.

“She sounds like a nice girl,” his mom had said after he told her about Y/N. “I think you two would make a cute couple.”

Cute couple. Sure. If he ever managed to string a sentence together in front of her that didn’t sound like a middle school crush.

Finally, with a deep breath, Hyunjae got out of his car and headed inside.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Y/N was at the station when he walked in, typing something on her tablet. She looked up as he approached, her eyes lighting up the way they always did when she saw him.

“Hyunjae,” she said with a warm smile. “Back again?”

“Hey, Nurse Y/N,” he greeted, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. “You’ll miss me when I stop showing up.”

Y/N laughed softly. “You’re assuming I don’t already.”

Her words caught him off guard, and he blinked. Was she teasing? He couldn’t tell.

“I was actually hoping to talk to you,” Hyunjae said, shifting his weight nervously.

Y/N tilted her head, her smile still in place. “Sure. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Hyunjae said quickly. “Better than fine, actually. My wrist is all good, so I won’t need any more appointments.”

“That’s great!” Y/N said, genuinely happy for him. “You must be relieved.”

“I am,” Hyunjae said, then hesitated. Now or never. “But, uh, I was wondering if—well, if you’d maybe want to go out with me sometime?”

Y/N blinked, clearly caught off guard. For a moment, Hyunjae thought he’d made a huge mistake. But then, a slow, surprised smile spread across her face.

“Are you asking me on a date, Hyunjae?”

“I am,” he said, his voice steady despite the butterflies in his chest. “Unless you’re about to tell me it’s against hospital policy.”

Y/N laughed. “No, it’s not against policy. But you know I’m going to hold you to ridiculously high standards, right? I don’t just go out with anyone.”

“That’s fair,” Hyunjae said, grinning. “I’ll do my best not to embarrass myself.”

Y/N looked at him for a moment, as if deciding something. Then she nodded. “Okay. You’ve got yourself a date.”

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The following weekend, Hyunjae waited outside a small café, trying not to look as nervous as he felt. When Y/N arrived, wearing a casual yet effortlessly stylish outfit, he realized he had absolutely no chance of playing it cool.

“Hi,” she said with a smile, her cheeks slightly pink.

“Hey,” Hyunjae said, opening the door for her. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks,” Y/N said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

The café was warm and cozy, with soft music playing in the background. They ordered coffee and pastries, then sat near the window, the conversation flowing easily.

Hyunjae learned that Y/N had always wanted to be a nurse, even as a kid, and that she loved cheesy rom-coms as much as he did, though she claimed she only watched them ironically.

“You’re not fooling me,” Hyunjae said, leaning back in his chair. “You totally cried during The Notebook.”

“First of all,” Y/N said, pointing her fork at him, “everyone cries during The Notebook. Second, if you tell anyone, I’ll deny it.”

Hyunjae laughed, feeling more at ease than he had in ages. Y/N had a way of making him feel like he could just be himself, no pretenses or bravado.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Hyunjae had always been good at overthinking. It was practically a skill at this point, honed from years of imagining worst-case scenarios and planning for disasters that never came. But as he stood outside Y/N’s apartment building, bouquet in hand, he realized that this time, he wasn’t nervous.

For once, his mind was clear.

The past few weeks had been nothing short of amazing. Each date with Y/N felt like peeling back another layer, discovering something new and wonderful about her. And the best part? She seemed to feel the same way about him.

“Relax, man,” Sangyeon had told him that morning over coffee. “Just tell her how you feel. She already likes you. What’s the worst that could happen?”

For once, Hyunjae actually believed him.

He knocked on Y/N’s door, the bouquet shaking slightly in his hand. When the door opened, Y/N stood there, her usual smile lighting up her face. She was wearing a casual dress that made her look effortlessly beautiful, and Hyunjae couldn’t help but stare for a second too long.

“Hey,” she said, her tone playful. “Were you planning to just stand there all night?”

Hyunjae blinked, snapping out of his trance. “Sorry. You look…amazing.”

“Thanks,” Y/N said, stepping aside to let him in. Her eyes fell on the flowers in his hand. “Are those for me?”

“Yeah,” Hyunjae said, handing them to her. “I figured you deserved something as pretty as you.”

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes but clearly pleased. “Cheesy, but I’ll take it. Let me put these in some water.”

As she disappeared into the kitchen, Hyunjae sat on the couch, his heart pounding in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying. This was it. The moment he’d been waiting for.

When Y/N returned, she sat down beside him, her expression soft. “You okay? You seem…different today.”

Hyunjae took a deep breath, turning to face her. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Y/N’s smile faltered slightly, her brows knitting together. “Okay. What’s up?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” he began, his voice steady despite the nerves bubbling in his chest. “And I realized something. Every time I see you, it feels like the best part of my day. You make me laugh, you make me feel comfortable, and…you make me want to be better. I guess what I’m trying to say is…I like you. A lot.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, her lips parting as if she were about to speak, but Hyunjae held up a hand.

“Wait, let me finish,” he said, his cheeks flushing. “I know this might be a little fast, and if you’re not ready, that’s totally fine. But I think my mom was right.”

Y/N blinked. “Your mom?”

Hyunjae nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “She said we’d make a cute couple. And now, standing here, I think she was right.”

Y/N stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a smile spread across her face.

“Your mom sounds pretty wise,” she said softly.

Hyunjae chuckled, relief washing over him. “She is. But I’m starting to think you’re even wiser.”

Y/N shook her head, laughing lightly. “You’re such a dork.”

“Maybe,” Hyunjae admitted, grinning. “But I’m your dork. If you’ll have me.”

Y/N didn’t answer with words. Instead, she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, her hand lingering on his shoulder.

“I guess I can live with that,” she said, her voice teasing but her eyes warm.

Hyunjae felt his heart soar, his grin widening as he leaned back, finally letting himself relax. For the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt right.

And as they sat there, the world outside fading away, Hyunjae couldn’t help but think that this was just the beginning of something truly special.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

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