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chuulyssa · 6 days ago

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୨・──── ALL I WANT IS LOVE THAT LASTS, IS ALL I WANT TOO MUCH TO ASK ? ────・୧

link to part i

pairing ⸺ satoru gojo x reader

teaser ⸺ trying to mend your broken bond with gojo satoru becomes difficult at the entrance of a rival, a distinct memory from your past. torn between love that aches and love that heals, you are left to pick up the remnants of what could have been and lay to arrange what will be. choices hold the power to break or mend, and satoru meets your guarded heart that threatens to either tear you apart or weave you back together. will satoru be able to win you back in time — or will the scars of yesterday refuse to tie you to a love that was never meant to be?

content ⸺ fluff, mostly f!reader, heavy angst, misunderstandings, mutual pining, slowburn, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, love triangle, shitty choices, implied abuse, jealousy, implied torture, implied slavery, mentions of grape, death, massacre, murder, royal!au, magic!au, historic!au

count ⸺ 22k + 2k

author’s note ⸺ so this marks the end of the series with gojo! watch out for ones with other characters <3 this came out way later than i had expected it to, oof. sorry to keep all of you waiting! for some reason tumblr is not letting me post the whole thing, so if you want to read what happens after 22k words, i’m leaving the ao3 and wattpad links as well.

🎧 ao3 wattpad

Three years had passed since that incident. You were now twenty years old, working a respectable job at Jujutsu High as a teacher. It was nice to utilize the knowledge you had gained back at the School of Royalty. Jujutsu High, as a school, was similar to the one you used to attend as a child, except the children here were far more humble.

You preferred this over anything else though. You wouldn’t want to spend the rest of your time around spoiled kids who had never heard the word ‘no’ in their lives.

It wasn’t necessarily the kids of the nobility that you despised, but rather the ideologies they carried with them. You still cringed remembering Kamo Alina babble about traditions “back at her kingdom”. Perhaps you had hatred against all noble clans, except your own, the Gojo clan, of course. The rest seemed too hollow and self-absorbed, and their kids seemed either too coddled or too burdened.

You were in charge of the first years at the school. You had few students, but they were all the best ones you could ask for: Maki Zenin, Toge Inumaki and Panda.

Maki was from the Zenin clan, whom you knew to be cunning and sly. She was very different from what the papers said about her lineage though — Maki had a knack for being good at fighting and war skills, whereas her clan was famous for running with their tails in between their legs from their opponents. You had caught the little girl staring at you more than once during your training sessions with Utahime. It was nice to have her watch; perhaps it was best that way for her to learn the things you did as well.

Toge was from the Inumaki clan, and used to speak in only food ingredients to not accidentally curse those around him. And finally, Panda was the ‘son’ of Principal Yaga, and a cursed corpse.

Here, you were glad you weren’t in charge of shaping heirs of stupid clans in a factory. Rather, you were to train and enhance those who were willing to learn. And in this humble, quiet school, you had found something even the nobility, who looked down upon the place as often as they could, could never offer to you: peace.

Things back at home… weren’t the best. Satoru was almost always away for ‘missions’ with Suguru, and it had been a long time since the two of you had even seen each other, let alone talk. You couldn’t recall the last time you both even sat together in the same room alone. He never told you where he was going, and you never asked — what was the point after all? He wouldn’t say even if you screamed at the top of your voice.

His mother had quite a few times tried to fix the situation between you two, but it never worked. Satoru had developed a strained relationship with his mother as well. After all, she had a hand in keeping the secret of your engagement from him, so how could he trust her again? Every time she tried to help, the gap between the entire family seemed to widen even more. It didn’t help that his father had stopped talking completely to his mother as well. There were rumours around the clan that the leaders were sleeping in separate rooms after that incident with the Kamo clan. You would have felt bad for her, if you didn’t feel worse for yourself.

Shoko had decided to pursue her medical education in a different kingdom. There was a void from where she had left, and although you were happy for her that she was able to live her dreams, the emptiness you felt whenever you reread your old letters made you feel sorry for yourself.

Utahime had been the only one to stay back with you. When you told her about your plans to teach at Jujutsu High, she immediately dropped her own things and joined the same school. You would often feel guilty for leading her to a different path than she had originally intended, but she would constantly reassure you that she would never have it any other way. At the school, the two of you would fool around with each other a lot, but the hollow space left by the old memories of the others would always nag at your brain the second you were by yourself.

Dinnertime at the table became a quiet affair. Oftentimes, while playing with the food on your plate, you missed the old banters between Satoru and his father. It almost felt like a distant memory from a whole other timeline, as if those little moments never happened at all. You usually ate your dinner alone in your room now, since it wasn’t worth coming all the way to the dining room anymore. Satoru’s father ate out every day, and his mother used to be the only one to eat at the table. If it weren’t for her, you wondered if you would be eating at all.

This night seemed like any other night when you had decided to eat at the table. Yet you couldn’t look up at your mother’s face and into her eyes. She looked paler than ever as if she was sick. Her eyes seemed hollow and dark, and if it weren’t for the tight grip she had on her chopsticks, you would have wondered if she had any strength in her left at all. After finishing your food quietly, you set your chopsticks down, and were about to stand up to bow and leave, when she stopped you.

“Stay,” she said this one word softly, and it took everything in you not to collapse in her arms at the sound of her weak voice. She didn’t look at you directly, but rather somewhere on the table, and she looked as if she was lost in thought, though you knew she had become this way ever since that night.

You sat back down, and stared at her as her grip on her chopsticks tightened ever so slightly. She opened a quivering lip to speak. “My son... my Satoru... He’s never been this upset… at me.”

You swallowed. He had never been this upset at you either. He had never been upset at all. You used to wonder if Satoru Gojo even had the word ‘upset’ in his dictionary. And now that was all you could see.

“I just hope…” she trembled slightly, “... that you can find it in your hearts to… to forgive me.” She looked up, and you looked away, for you knew the sight in front of you wouldn’t let you breathe another moment. You knew she was holding back tears. You were too.

“There is nothing to forgive,” you croaked out, hoping what you were saying was making sense. “I just wonder if this is worth going about if he isn’t happy with it.”

“It’s not, you’re right,” she murmured, looking back down to her plate. “I was a princess. I was told I could never be wrong. Yet here I am, hoping I am not, even though every cell of my body tells me I am.” Then she looked right into your eyes, and something in your heart broke again at her state. “Would you want to marry someone who was not him?”

You stopped. No. No, of course not. No, you would never, ever even dream of marrying someone that wasn’t him. But what could you do now? What could be done? If he did not want it, then how could you? How could you do something like this to him against his will? So slowly, you nodded. “Perhaps I could think about it. But not now.”

“I understand. Goodnight to you.”

“Goodnight, mother.”

──── ୨ৎ ────

“Good morning, Miss!”

“Good morning, Miss.”

“Salmon.”

“Yes, yes, good morning to all of you. Hurry up now, the first class starts in 15 minutes,” you said swiftly, waving at the kids. You turned to Utahime, who was staring at the parents dropping their kids off to catch some hot single dad she, or rather you, could have a chance with. “What class do you have first, Miss Transfiguration?”

“The annoying third-years,” she grumbled. “How about you, Miss Charms?”

“My first years. I’m charmed.”

“Sure, you are.”

You watched the carriage Maki had stepped out of. It was rather modest for someone of Zenin lineage. But what really caught Utahime’s attention wasn’t the car — it was the man who stepped out to escort Maki.

He was tall, with dyed blond hair that shimmered under the morning light, and striking brown eyes. Utahime froze.

“Wow.”

“What?”

“Wow. Is that… him?” she whispered, gripping your arm.

“Him?” you asked.

“The guy! From years ago!” she hissed as if that explained everything.

You raised an eyebrow, watching as the man exchanged a brief word with Maki before returning to his carriage. “Iori, you’re not making any sense.”

Utahime pulled out her wand and immediately began tapping it on her temple at a rapid pace. “Don’t you remember when those exchange students introduced themselves? In the hall? That cactus transfiguration kid? This is him. Look.”

A floating picture hovered in your hands. It was slightly blurry, moving up and down serenely, but you could make out the younger version of the man fixing his carriage in front of the school gates clearly. You blinked at the picture, then at Utahime.

“You… remember him enough to produce this complicated magic?” you asked, though you didn’t know whether to be amused or alarmed.

Utahime shrugged unapologetically. “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

You sighed, shaking your head in disbelief. “‘hime, you’re a stalker.”

She grinned, utterly unbothered. “A resourceful stalker, I’d say. Anyway, don’t you think he’s—”

“Don’t say it,” you warned, already seeing where this was going.

“—handsome?” she finished, her grin widening mischievously.

You groaned, covering your face. “Utahime, he’s Maki’s guardian. You make it sound like I’m ready to adopt her or something. That’s weird.”

She waved off your protest, nudging you playfully. “Come on, he’s single. Uh, probably. And if he’s not, well, that’s just unfortunate for him.”

“Why are we even talking about this?” you muttered.

“Because,” she said with mock seriousness, “you’ve been single for far too long, and this is an opportunity. So…” She leaned closer. “Why don’t you try flirting with him?”

You stared at her like she’d grown another head. “Preposterous. Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” she teased, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

You glanced at the man who was now pulling away in the carriage looking like a war hero, and then back at Utahime. “Because I don’t feel like dying today. You know, the Zenin clan and all of that?”

She laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulders as you both headed back inside. “Suit yourself, but just know — I’m rooting for you!”

“Utahime,” you sighed, “you’re impossible.”

But her laughter was infectious, and you couldn’t help it.

You smiled.

──── ୨ৎ ────

The staffroom was unusually quiet, save for the faint scratch of your quill against parchment as you graded the first-years’ essays. Utahime, however, was anything but quiet. She had perched herself on the edge of your desk, her hands gripping the back of your chair as she swung it gently back and forth.

“Flirt with him,” she said.

“No,” you replied flatly, not looking up from the parchment.

“Come on, just a little?” she coaxed, leaning over your shoulder and nearly smudging the ink you’d just scrawled across a particularly poor attempt at a levitation charm essay.

You leaned back slightly, giving her a deadpan look. “Utahime, I am trying to work.”

“And I am trying to help you!” she shot back, as if her nagging about your love life was an act of selfless charity.

You sighed, putting down the quill and crossing your arms. “For the last time, I am not flirting with Maki’s guardian. That’s weird.”

“It’s not weird. It’s romantic,” she argued, dragging out the last word like it was a persuasive spell. “You’re single. He’s single—”

“We don’t know that he’s single,” you interjected, but Utahime waved you off.

“Semantics,” she said. “The point is, he’s clearly into you. Did you not see the way he looked at you yesterday?”

“The reason he even looked at me was because you shoved me in front of him like a sacrificial lamb,” you retorted.

“Details,” she said breezily, now swiveling your chair side to side. “But seriously, what’s the harm in a little bit of flirting? He’s charming, dashing, hot, and you’re… uh, you…?”

“Wow, thanks,” you said dryly, though you couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

She grinned. “See? You’re already warming up to the idea,” she leaned in close to your face.

The door swung open. There he was, the same man both of you had just been talking about. He took one look inside the room and raised an eyebrow. Your eyes widened, because of course, without any context it looked like you and Utahime were just about to kiss. You shrieked and pushed her away and she laughed at you, though she stopped when she saw the man judging her silently. Maki face-palmed behind the man.

“Excuse me if I am interrupting something intimate,” he looked at you. “We had an appointment regarding Maki’s performance, yes?”

“Ho ho ho! Yes you did!” Utahime giggled and left the room, and it seemed like she had taken all the comfort out of it too, leaving you, him and Maki standing in it, staring at each other awkwardly. Maki coughed loudly and excused herself, and you made a mental note to reduce some points on her essay.

You cleared your throat as he took a seat across from you. His presence seemed to shrink the staffroom. He leaned back in the chair as if he owned the room. You focused on the stack of papers in front of you, determined to act professional. In your mind, you could hear Utahime’s voice still echoing: Flirt with him!

He folded his hands on the desk and his gaze flickered briefly to the papers in your hands before locking onto your face.

“I have to ask,” he began casually. “Are you and that colleague of yours… together?”

You froze mid-flip of Maki’s report card, staring at him as if he’d just asked you to duel. “What?”

He leaned back slightly with a faint smirk. “You and that woman. The way you two were before. It crossed my mind that you might be…” He trailed off.

“I’m not— she’s— what? No!” you sputtered, feeling your cheeks burn.

“Ah,” he said softly, as if the weight of the world had just been lifted off his shoulders. “Thank heavens. I wouldn’t have known what to do with myself if you were.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

His smirk softened into something more playful. “Well, I’d have had to rethink all my plans, for starters.”

“Plans?” you echoed, your voice coming out higher-pitched than you had intended it to be.

“Mhm,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly. “Plans like how to win your favour, of course. You can imagine how devastating it would’ve been to learn I stood no chance from the start.”

You could feel your brain short-circuiting. Was he flirting? Or was this just his sense of humor?

“I— uh— Maki!” you stammered, blurting out her name like it was a life saver. It technically was. “We’re supposed to be talking about Maki’s progress!”

“Of course,” he said smoothly. “Her progress is paramount. But forgive me — I’m a man of focus, and right now, my focus seems to have shifted.”

“Let’s have it shift back to Maki then,” you insisted.

He chuckled softly, leaning forward just enough to close the space between you ever so slightly. “As you wish. But if I may, just one more thing.”

You hesitated warily. “…What now?”

“You have the most fascinating reactions,” he said. “I could watch you get flustered all day.”

Your hands gripped the papers tightly, and you let out an exasperated sigh. “Mr Zenin, do you ever stop talking?”

His grin widened. “Not when I’m talking to someone this delightful. And it’s Naoya, to you, darling.”

──── ୨ৎ ────

For the school’s 107th anniversary, you and the other teachers had decided to plan a surprise event for the students, guardians and even the principal. But as you stared at the chairs lying askew everywhere, and the food stall looking like it had undergone a raid, you sighed. Who would have to clean everything up in the end? The teachers, of course.

You bent down to pick a random flask up from the ground, and you looked up to see Naoya standing at the entrance of the schoolgates. You watched as he shooed away the carriage with Maki and their driver in it, and walked towards you.

You got up quickly and panicked, eyes darting everywhere to see if he really was walking to you or not. Naoya stopped in front of you, and suddenly the flask in your hands seemed too heavy. You dropped it, but he caught the tin, lips curving into a smile at your surprise.

“Astonishing reflexes, hm?” You nodded at his words and he laughed. “That was quite the show, I believe. You handle large crowds really well.”

You half-laughed at the compliment, looking down at your shaking hands. Why were you so nervous?

“Yeah, well, the crowd has departed now, and this is the tough bit.”

“I can help,” he smiled at you, and you blinked in surprise.

“Ah, you don’t have to. Besides, we can’t make guardians work for us.”

“I insist.” He pulled the sleeves of his shirt up and put his hands on his hips. “Where are the inconveniences that have you so troubled? I shall fight them.”

You snickered a bit. His dramatic actions reminded you of someone.

A certain someone.

Maybe that’s why you liked his company.

You snapped out of your thoughts when you saw him staring at the upturned tables with dread. “Has there been a call of war here?”

“Close enough. The seller had mochis on his bill of fare.”

“That sums it up. But you can’t possibly expect me to dirty my hands with this. A nobleman shouldn’t be doing manual labor,” he shook his head and sighed.

You raised an eyebrow at that. “You’re the one who insisted on staying to help.”

Naoya grinned. “Well, I can’t leave my favorite teacher to fend for herself. Besides…” He picked up two chairs effortlessly with one hand, and turned around to see if you were still watching. “It’s a chance to show off.”

Maybe it won’t be as boring with him around after all.

You had found yourself in this lonely teahouse far more than you could admit for someone of your status. It usually buzzed with the chatter of lonely workers, gossiping seamstresses and little children. But it was better, far better than what was going on at home anyway. You stared at your chawan, and put your fingers around it to drink. But the vessel was hot, and you hissed as you withdrew your hand back, the tea inside seemingly hissing back menacingly.

“Careful, darling,” a voice said from behind you and you jumped. “I said, careful,” he taunted, rubbing the top of your head affectionately. You looked up to meet Naoya’s eyes, your own widening when you saw him.

“Naoya!”

“Fancy meeting you here. I didn’t think I’d find you in such a quaint little spot.”

“Me neither. Isn’t this place,” you waved around at the dull walls of the room, “below your usual standards, Mr Zenin?”

He crossed your table to pull out a chair in front of you and sat down. “I could say the same about you. Or perhaps,” he brushed his fingers on your lips to wipe the wetness of tea from earlier, “we were led here by fate.”

You choked on air at his action. “Fate? We’re just at a teahouse. It’s not exactly a meeting of the stars.”

Naoya grinned at your fluster, and leaned forward playfully. “Ah, but you see, fate works in mysterious ways. And right now, it’s working to bring me closer to the most captivating woman in the room.”

“Ha, ha,” you mumbled, staring into your vessel to avoid meeting his eyes. “You talk too much.”

He laughed softly. The server arrived with a platter of sweets, and bowed, “For the lovely couple.”

You spat the tea you had just sipped out. “We— we’re not—”

“Thank you, miss,” Naoya interrupted you swiftly, and nodded at the server, who immediately straightened up to take his leave.

You stared at him, aghast. “Naoya, we’re not—”

“Not yet, at least. But I’m not opposed to the idea. How about we take the first step?” He leaned in closer and planted a teasing kiss on your cheek.

Your jaw dropped — from embarrassment or at his audacity, you did not know. “What—?”

“There. Now we’re official.”

──── ୨ৎ ────

You clutched your bag tightly. Great, another rainy day. And you had refused the umbrella your maid had offered to you as well. Sighing, you looked at the sky. The downpour didn’t look like it was going to stop anytime soon. If only a miracle happened that would escort you back home safely.

“Stranded, are we?” Naoya’s voice broke through the rain. You turned to see him standing with a pristine black umbrella, grinning at you as if he was not surprised at all to meet you here.

“Yeah. You stayed back? Where’s Maki?”

“Oh, I left her to go home in the carriage,” he shifted the handle of his umbrella to one shoulder. “Need me?”

“I’ll manage,” you replied, not wanting to disturb him. Though part of you wondered whether he would be here if you hadn’t been stuck here as well.

“Let’s not ruin such a lovely sight with such a disaster. Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

“I’ll be fine, really. You don’t have to—”

“I insist. Or would you prefer I let you catch a cold? Then you’d have no choice but to rely on me to nurse you back to health.”

You groaned. “You’re impossible.” Realizing you had no way home without his help, you stood under his umbrella. He grinned at you, tilting the umbrella more towards you to shield you from the harsh rain.

“You’re getting wet,” you pointed out.

“It’s a small price to pay.” He glanced at you with a sly smile. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about me.”

“I’m not,” you scoff slightly.

“Good. I’d hate for you to think I’m fragile.”

The walk ahead was comfortable, although you didn’t think that was the case for Naoya. By the time you had reached the entrance of the clan, you could see Naoya’s sleeves were drenched. But he didn’t seem to mind at all. His eyes followed something ahead that you coulldn’t see through the fog that covered the atmosphere.

“Naoya? What are you looking at?” You asked, and he huffed in irritation — more so at the thing he had seen than at you.

He wrapped an arm around your waist and you involuntarily sucked your stomach in at it. He led you to the figure.

White hair… Lovely blue eyes…

Your fiance who refused to be yours.

Gojo Satoru.

He was leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed in front of him, staring at you two through his sunglasses as if he would rather be looking at anything else than at the fingers curling around your waist.

Naoya, much to your horror, approached Satoru with you still in his arms. “Greetings,” he said pleasantly. “We’ve met before, yes?”

“Yes,” Satoru replied coolly. Then he addressed you, though his eyes didn’t quite meet yours. “Who’s he?”

You started. Fuck. What was he to you? An acquaintance? The guardian of one of your students? An associate—?

“Her boyfriend,” Naoya stepped in before you could respond, and you watched Satoru’s eyes lose what little warmth they had earlier. He turned to you as if expecting you to deny the claim.

“What? I mean, I guess…? Maybe? But I’m not sure—”

Satoru arched an eyebrow, and let out a single syllable that made your heart break into pieces all over again. “Oh.” He looked at you with an expression you couldn’t understand at all. His lips were twitched, but he wasn’t happy. His eyebrows were furrowed, but he wasn’t confused. You felt like he was toying with your brain on purpose with all the failed hints his face gave.

Naoya grinned smugly. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave her in your care now, brother.” He was clearly enjoying himself.

Your eyes widened.

Look… I’ve never thought of you that way before, okay? You’re… you’re pretty, but you’re like a sister to me. That’s how I’ve always seen you.

Satoru’s eyes darkened, and he shoved his hands in his pockets, taking a step back. “Great. Fantastic,” he mocked you. “I’m so glad you’re being taken care of, my little sister.”

A few more minutes passed, though they were so awkward you did not have the courage to relive them. Naoya had left with a smirk and a wave, and Satoru had followed you inside the estate when all you wanted to do was get away from him.

“You’re… back, haha,” you mumbled, and he nodded. The rain patted against the windowsill softly, and each drop felt like it rained in your heart.

“Is he really your boyfriend?” He blurted out.

“Huh?” You were caught off guard. “Oh, um… I don’t know? He took me out for coffee once. Does that count?”

“No, absolutely not,” Satoru scoffed.

You paused. And then you let out a laugh. He stared at you and let out a bark of laughter as well.

“Him? Your boyfriend,” he wiped the tears off from his eyes. “The audacity!”

“Typical of him, I suppose,” you chortled.

“What did he even ask you for the coffee thing?”

“He said he wanted to talk about Maki’s essays,” you snickered, and he cackled.

“Essays?”

“Yeah!”

“You know, you should probably go on a real date sometime. Just so you can tell the difference between a parent-teacher conference and, y’know, an actual date,” he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, yeah? And who’s going to take me out on this ‘real date’? You?” You teased.

Satoru froze. He opened his mouth as if to respond, then quickly closed it, his gaze flickering away from you.

You felt the awkwardness returning from earlier. Forcing out a laugh, you waved your hand dismissively. “I’m kidding! Obviously. Haha. Anyway, I should, uh, go now. Busy day tomorrow and all that. So, um, goodnight!”

You practically bolted from the room, leaving Satoru standing there, staring at where you had just been. His hand twitched as if he wanted to stop you, but he stayed silent, his jaw tightening as he watched you retreat.

You locked your door, hoping you weren’t being wishful as always when you heard the faint murmur of his voice.

“Maybe I would.”

──── ୨ৎ ────

The next morning, you stepped out of your house, adjusting your bag of supplies on your shoulder. Rejecting your driver who had offered you a ride in the luxurious carriage, you walked on, greeting the little children of the various families of your clan. Crossing the gate of the main estate, you found Satoru leaning casually against a nearby carriage, waiting for something — or rather, someone.

“Morning,” he said, grinning like he had been there for hours. His sunglasses reflected the surprise in your eyes under the morning light.

“Uh… good morning?” You blinked in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged at you. “Thought you might need a ride.”

“Don’t you have work?” You asked sceptically. He had had missions and trips to be on all this time, so why was he here now?

He shrugged again, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Not yet. Free morning.”

“Oh,” you frowned at his excuse. “Well, I usually just walk to work. Sorry.”

“Ah, well, no problem then,” he straightened up, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeves. “I’ll walk with you.”

“What? No, it’s alright—”

Satoru waved the driver of the carriage off and waltzed over to you. “Too late. I’m committed now.”

You sighed in defeat, letting him walk with you. Silence loomed over you, the kind that made you hyper aware of every crunch the leaves under your feet made, every chirp the birds on nearby trees let out, and even every breath you didn’t know you kept holding.

“It’s a nice morning, huh?” He finally broke the tense silence, though the strain in his voice made it even more awkward.

“Yeah it is,” you glanced and nodded at him briefly.

Another long stretch of silence. When did you two become this way? Nevermind, you remembered the day it all had started a bit too clearly for your liking. But this seemed too delicate, too much. How was your walk with the arrogant Naoya Zenin more comfortable than one with the person you had spent nearly all your life with?

“So,” he started again, clearing his throat, “you walk this route every day?”

“It’s not that far,” you nodded.

“It’s been a while since I walked anywhere,” he chuckled softly to himself.

You risked a small smile in the midst of the unpleasant stillness. “Yeah, I remember. You always complained if the carriage wasn’t ready, or if you were sent to meet other clans on foot.”

“I was spoiled,” he grinned proudly. “Still am, probably.”

Despite yourself, you laughed softly. But it was fleeting, and the silence returned to keep reminding you of how much everything has changed. By the time you reached the gates of Jujutsu High, the sun was higher in the sky. Satoru stopped a few stops short of the massive gateway.

“Well, here you are,” he turned to look at you with softened eyes.

You nodded and adjusted your bag. “Thanks for walking with me.”

“Anytime,” he smiled. Faint as it was, it still didn’t reach his eyes.

In the faculty lounge at Jujutsu High, you sat with Utahime after she had barked at the other teachers to let her have some “alone time” with you. It seemed as if although she was trying her best to get you and Naoya together, she was hardly denying the rumours between you and her.

She suddenly perked up mid-cursing at an answer paper of one of the third-years. “Oh, right! Did you hear? There’s a new recruit for a teaching position. Principal Yaga told me yesterday.”

“Oh, cool,” you snapped out of your own thoughts about the weird tension Naoya had landed you in. “Who’s interviewing them?”

“You, duh.” You groaned audibly and she laughed.

“Hopefully it’s not another Ijichi,” you grumbled, wincing as you remembered the interview you had with him a few months ago.

“Be nice,” she said, though she snickered at the memory. “He was just nervous!”

“Nervous?” You huffed loudly. “Utahime, the man tripped over his own feet before he even sat down. And I wasn’t even intimidating!”

“You? Not intimidating?” She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, definitely. Tell that to the first-years.”

“I’m a delight,” you shrugged, batting your eyelashes innocently. “Ijichi, on the other hand… couldn’t even make eye contact during the interview. I had to repeat my question three times before he answered.”

“Maybe this one will be better,” she got excited, and you knew what she was thinking of before it even came out of her mouth. “Who knows? They might even impress you—”

“No,” you snapped, and she giggled.

You were in enough of what your teenage self would have called “boy troubles” already to have a third one enter your life. First Satoru, then Naoya, and now Satoru again. You sighed. Shouldn’t you be flattered that a guy like Naoya shows interest in you? He’s rich, a noble (although the Gojo clan wouldn’t care about status either way), handsome and romantic. What more could you want? But on the other hand, Satoru is… well… him? You hardly think anyone would be able to compete with the Satoru you knew.

Utahime set down her papers and held your hand, as if determined to show you how a real man should hold you. “Alright, what’s wrong?” She asked gently. “You’ve been off for days. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

You hesitated. “Satoru,” you muttered.

“Of course,” she sighed. She inhaled loudly before— “That insufferable, pompous cretin! A walking disgrace to his lineage! I’ve met noble horses with more grace and tact! A royal pain, in every possible way. That walking definition of idiocy needs to be knocked off his pedestal, preferably into a pile of mud.”

You blinked rapidly. You’d be lying if you understood a single word that she just said.

“What does that even mean?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she waved a hand dismissively, fuming with rage. “The point is, he’s an idiot. The biggest idiot. And if he’s making you feel like this, then I’m going to—”

“Okay, okay!” You smiled faintly at her ambitious attempt to choke thin air with her hands as if grabbing his throat. “But it’s not just him.”

“There’s more? It’s alright, I can fight—”

“Not for fighting!” You added quickly, alarmed. “It’s Naoya.”

“What did he do?” She stopped her antics.

“I just feel like I’m stuck between those two,” you palmed your face. You were utterly distraught. “Satoru keeps walking me to work, like he’s trying to fix things, but then Naoya, he’s been kind, attentive, and all of the good stuff you keep babbling about. I don’t know what to do if it ever came down to choosing between them.”

She leaned forward seriously, and forced your chin upwards to meet her eyes like your second mother. “Listen. Ask yourself two questions. First: Who sees you for you? Not the ‘I’m-strong-enough-to-not-need-anyone-else’ image you’ve been trying to put up, not the teacher you’ve become, but just… you. The good and the bad.”

“And the second?” You frowned thoughtfully.

“Who makes you feel safe?” She said simply. “Not just physically, but emotionally as well. Who can you trust with your heart, knowing they’ll look after it like the finest treasure?”

Like the finest treasure? The answer was simple.

But not the one you wanted.

Not who you craved.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” Utahime gave you a small smile. “Just don’t settle for less than you deserve, okay?”

You nodded gratefully. “You’re way better at this than you seem like, you know.”

“I’m a delight,” she echoed your words from earlier, giggling.

──── ୨ৎ ────

It had been almost a month since the walks with Satoru had begun. You had hoped as time went by you would’ve gotten more used to the tension it carried, but each day seemed to offer a new, worse one. The quietness lingered heavily between you, just like it had been all this while.

“So,” he started, glancing at you, “am I annoying you?”

“What?” You cross-questioned, startled at the insecurity in his voice. “No, why would you think that?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged, trying his best to be nonchalant, but you knew him too well to know it was an act. “It’s been over a month of me tagging along, and you haven’t said much. I thought maybe you’d prefer walking with someone else. Like Naoya,” he mumbled the last part.

“No,” you said firmly. “You’re not annoying—”

“I just hoped,” he cut you off, “you’d think this was better than with him. That’s all.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you just hummed, looking away at a nearby tree and counting the number of leaves on it.

“Yeah,” Satoru chuckled quietly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thought so.”

You couldn’t reply to that.

“Here we are,” he murmured, opening the schoolgates for you just to find something to do. But when he followed behind you inside, you raised an eyebrow.

“You’re coming all the way in? Don’t worry, Naoya won’t step inside the school.”

“Good to know,” he adjusted his sunglasses, “but I’m not worried about Naoya.”

“Then?”

He closed the gates and turned to face you, beaming despite his earlier demeanour. “I’m a candidate for the teaching post.”

“What?!”

“What? You didn’t know?” He tilted his head, acting innocent. “Thought I’d apply for the position. Figured it was about time I contributed my immense knowledge to the next generation.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You? A teacher?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment even though it’s meaningless that way,” he pouted at you. He then pushed past you to the hallway. “You’re the one interviewing me, hopefully? Race you!”

“What the— Satoru, come back!” But he was already running to whatever empty classroom he could find. Talk about professionalism.

You marched off to Principal Yaga’s office and burst in, resulting in him nearly stabbing his own finger with a sewing needle. “Sir! I can’t do this.

“It’s 8 in the morning,” he sighed wearily. “And what is it that you can’t do?

“I cannot interview that man.”

“Why not?”

You gestured wildly at the hall, from where audible noises of furniture being dragged around could be heard. “Because it’s Gojo Satoru.”

“I see.” Yaga leaned back in his chair, staring at the hall with a transfixed look. “Well, if it’s such a problem, I’ll just have Utahime handle it.”

Uh oh.

“No, no. She’ll kill him. Literally.” And you didn’t feel like cleaning up a crime scene today.

“With killer questions?” He remarked thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. “Then it’s settled. She’ll—”

“No, sir! I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to.”

“Yes I do,” you gritted your teeth.

You had finally found the man after looking through twenty three whole classrooms spinning rapidly on a chair. You coughed loudly and he jumped, though he sighed in relief when he saw that it was just you.

“Thought I’d get fired if the Principal saw me this way,” he said as you sat on the chair in front of him. “And I haven’t even been hired yet. Imagine that!”

“You know I could reject you as a candidate as well, right?” You rolled your eyes.

“What? No, you wouldn’t!” He shouted indignantly. “I knew I shouldn’t have eaten your last mochi.”

“What? You ate my last mochi?”

Satoru gulped, and you groaned.

You clutched your clipboard, already regretting your decision. “Alright, Mr. Gojo. Let’s begin.”

He grinned. “Of course, Mrs. Gojo. Don’t let me distract you.”

“Let’s start with the basics,” you tried to sound as professional as you could. “What experience do you have working with students?”

“Well, I’ve been mentoring the younger sorcerers unofficially,” he leaned back in his chair with a lazy smile. “Does being charming count?”

“No.”

“Really?” He tilted his head. “Because I think it’s working on you.”

You paused. “This isn’t a date,” you glared at him. “It’s an interview.”

“So you do know what a date is,” his grin widened in size. “Guess Naoya didn’t ruin you completely.”

“Why do you want this position?” You gritted your teeth.

“Figured I’d spend more time with you.”

“How do you handle indiscipline in the classroom?” You deadpanned.

“Depends,” he tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Are we talking about kids or you?”

Fucking—

“Do you even want this job?”

“I do,” he said simply.

You slammed your clipboard on the table in annoyance and stood up. “You’re following me, aren’t you?” You pointed an accusing finger at his face.

He looked at you incredulously. “What? No. Why would I—” He stopped, and his tone softened. “I’m here because I’m sick of the nobility and their entitlement.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.” He stood up as well, crossing his arms and speaking more earnestly than you had ever heard from him. “Kids from those circles? You can’t change them — they’re too far gone. But here? The students come from humble families. They still have a shot at thinking for themselves, at doing things for the right reasons. I want to make sure they don’t grow up like us.”

You were stunned into silence, but before you could respond, a voice came from the doorway.

“Congratulations, Satoru Gojo. You’re hired,” said Principal Yaga, sparing one glance into the room and then leaving again.

Satoru’s expression changed again, and he was beaming like he hadn’t just bared his soul out to you a few moments ago. “Looks like you’re stuck with me, huh?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “…Great.”

──── ୨ৎ ────

“This,” you gestured to a nearby door, “is the main classroom. It’s where first-years have their lessons. It’s equipped with barriers for live combat simulations, so the—”

“You know, you’ve got a really soothing voice,” Satoru cut in. “Ever think of switching to narration?”

“Shut up,” you shot him a glare. “Are you just here to waste my time?”

“Can’t I appreciate you a little?” He pouted, but when your look refused to soften, his shoulder sank and head drooped, and he trailed behind you like a small puppy.

So cute.

No, fuck, what the fuck are you thinking?

You walked on ahead, and the whispers from all those years ago that had remained in your thoughts seemed to bloom louder again.

You don’t even belong in this house!

We’re not kids forever, you know.

The two people I trust the most in this world!

Nothing more. Nothing less.

“Are you oka—?”

“Why are you here, Satoru?”

His smirk faltered. “I told you. I want to help shape the next generation—”

“And you’re telling me it has nothing to do with me?”

His gaze softened. “Would it be so bad if it did?”

You bit your lip, trying to shut out all the voices echoing in your head. “After what you said to me all those years ago? Because if you think that can be fixed then—”

“Stop.”

You did.

“I don’t know how old you think I was then, but it’s not like you were any older than me at that time. I want you to understand that,” he spun you around to face him, “I want to change. I want to show you how much I regret raising my voice at you that way.”

“Is that all you regret?” You asked.

He paused a bit, then fixed his sunglasses to cover his eyes completely. “No. I regret saying that—”

“Hey there!” chirped in a voice you almost didn’t recognize from how much you were focussing on Satoru’s words. Satoru’s face hardened when he saw the person waving at you from behind. You turned to look at him.

“Naoya?”

“Yes, missed me? I dropped Maki with the driver earlier than usual for you,” Naoya strode up to you, and hooked his arm with yours, snatching you away from Satoru’s grip. “Let’s walk you home, darling.”

“You know, Naoya, for someone who talks a lot about class, you’re pretty shameless when it comes to interrupting private conversations,” Satoru spat venomously, making the latter turn around to face him sneering.

“Private? Oh, forgive me,” Naoya snickered. “I didn’t realize you were finally learning how to talk to a woman. But could you get a different one? This one’s taken.”

“Oh, shut up. Isn’t it past your bedtime, Zenin? Shouldn’t you be off practicing your bowing skills or groveling to your clan?”

“Groveling?” Naoya smirked, clearly unbothered. “Not my style, Gojo. That’s more your speed, isn’t it? Or did you think running off to teach would make people forget how much of a disappointment you are?”

“Uh, okay,” you tried to interrupt. “I don’t think—”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Satoru cut you off, leaning forward with mock curiosity. “Must be hard living in a world where your only personality trait is kissing your elders’ feet.”

“Says the man who threw away everything his clan worked for,” Naoya mocked back. “Couldn’t handle the pressure of actually being useful?”

“Useful?” Satoru laughed maniacally, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. “Is that what you call wagging your tail for every decision the Zenin fossils make?”

“Enough! Please. You two are acting like kids—” You stepped in between them and raised your hands.

“Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing, Gojo,” Naoya chided. “Trying to fix what you broke, crawling back like the desperate little rat you are.”

“Desperate, huh? And what are you? You’re just a carbon copy of every other one of your morons. Must be boring living without a spine.”

“Better a spine than whatever it is you call yourself. A disgrace to the Gojo clan. No wonder they’ve been so quiet about you. They’re probably embarrassed.”

“Okay, enough! I don’t have time for this,” you shouted.

Naoya immediately shut up. “Are we overwhelming you, darling? I can always walk you home. Gojo here,” his expression soured again, “can find his own way back.”

Satoru’s jaw tightened. “Funny, I was about to say the same thing about you.”

“Yeah? Then why don’t you just let her choose?”

“Of course.”

Both of them turned to you simultaneously, and you made a mental note to never interrupt their conversations ever again. Before things could escalate further, however, a sharp voice cut in.

“What in the name of all things holy, proper, appropriate, virtuous, demure, and absolutely not Utahime Iori is going on here?”

“Wow, did you just compare yourself to a holy being?” Satoru snickered, and earned a slap on the back of his head by her.

“I said ‘absolutely not’, you white-haired freak.”

“Utahime!” You sighed in relief, running to hug her around the waist, and she patted your head pitifully.

“There, there. You were stuck in this pissing contest between manchildren, weren’t you? You poor, poor soul.”

“Woman,” Naoya curled his lip, “don’t you have better things to do than stick your nose where it doesn’t belong?”

“Like you’re doing right now?” Utahime replied coolly. “We’re leaving,” she yanked you away from them with her.

“Wait—” Naoya protested.

“Hey—” Satoru stepped forward.

“No. Bye,” Utahime turned around with her nose high in the air, and you gave a meek wave to both of them. They did cancel their plans to walk you home, but god did you feel grateful to be dragged away from their fights about winning you like an object.

──── ୨ৎ ────

Life had taken a strange, twisting turn ever since Satoru had re-entered your world. The once awkward silences during his walks with you were replaced by lively conversations now. He was speaking to you more now. He would sometimes do or say things that reminded you of how he was, but it wasn’t quite the same. He still hadn’t joined you for dinner again, despite the seat you subconsciously left empty every night at the table.

Meanwhile, Naoya was relentless in his pursuit — walking you to school, picking you up, showing up at your door with every excuse in the book, Impress to Repress: A Noble’s Guide to Obtain the Perfect Wife. Funnily enough, you didn’t suppose it would be too far-fetched to think he had that book somewhere in his room with the way he would speak with you.

“I thought you might need help carrying your books,” he’d say, flashing you that perfect smile as though you couldn’t see past the charm. Or: “A lady shouldn’t walk alone in the evening.” And his favorite: “I dropped Maki off early for you.”

It wasn’t entirely unwelcome, though. Naoya was charming and thoughtful in a way that had its appeal, but it also left you feeling like you were being swooped away too far, like he was a strong tide made to sweep you off your feet. But when the tide receded, you found yourself glancing over your shoulder, wondering if Satoru had noticed.

Just who should you love?

Naoya was kind — kinder than you’d expected him to be. He knew how to make you laugh, smile, blush all the same. But his ego often left you bristling. He would decide for you even though you wanted to do it yourself, and part of you wondered if he was just like the Kamo servants and nobles you had seen earlier.

And then there was Satoru. He’d shattered your heart three years ago with careless words. The memory still burned like a fresh wound, but there were moments now when you saw something different in him. Something softer. Something that almost made you believe he could fix what he’d broken. But it was too toxic to linger on.

You reached the teacher’s lounge and found it empty except for Utahime, who was leaning against a desk, flipping through a stack of papers. She glanced up as you entered.

“Finally decided to get a break?”

“Yeah. Did you bully all the other teachers out again?”

“Thank me for that,” she poked her tongue out as you sat down laughing.

“Actually, I came here to ask you something,” you hesitated.

“Hm?”

“Why—” you huffed. “Why did you step in that day? You know, with both of them. You were supposed to let me… choose.”

Utahime set her pen down with a soft sigh. “Because you weren’t ready.”

“What do you mean?” You frowned. “I could’ve—”

“Could you, though?” She wondered loudly. “I’ve known you long enough to recognize when you’re drowning in your own head. You’re still holding onto pieces of your past with Satoru while Naoya’s practically dragging you into his future. And you? You’re just standing there, caught in the middle, hoping someone else will make the choice for you.”

You spluttered at how accurately she described your situation. “But you said—”

“I said ‘take your time’, didn’t I?”

“You did,” you sighed. “But what if it’s too late?”

“If it is, then a choice will be made for you,” her eyes darkened. “You know what clans are like. The Kamo clan even set up a proposal for Satoru, and he was just seventeen at the time.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but what could you say? If it wasn’t for your mother that day, Satoru would’ve been married off at the mere age of seventeen. The Kamo clan’s elder daughter had been married off at a young age as well, from what you had heard from their maids. Who’s to say that won’t be the case for you as well? How long could your mother shelter you after all?

Utahime softened slightly. “I stepped in that day because you needed time. But don’t think for a second that I’m going to keep doing it. This is your life. Your future. And you’re the only one who gets to decide who’s in it. So stop running in circles.”

“But I’m scared,” you croaked out.

“Scared?”

“What if I make the wrong choice?” You said quietly, looking down at your own hands.

Utahime leaned back with a small smile. “Then you deal with it, just like everyone else. But at least it’ll be your choice, not theirs.”

You nodded slightly.

“Oh, and one more thing — next time, don’t let two grown men fight over you in public. It’s embarrassing.”

You sat there, chewing on your own nail and wondering if you should laugh, cry, or start packing your bags to run away from both Satoru and Naoya entirely.

──── ୨ৎ ────

On Utahime’s advice, you had prepared two separate diaries to recount heart-fluttering scenarios you had with each man to help you ‘decide’ between them. As much as you found the whole idea ridiculous, you figured trying it won’t hurt. You had asked both Naoya and Satoru to buy you a diary each just to see how differing the outcomes would be.

Now, you picked a diary that looked posh and had a sophisticated-looking leather twine to strap it shut. The cover looked menacing, and the pages were eerily white. You did not have to second-guess to know who bought this one.

“Naoya,” you muttered, scribbling his name along the first page. You then turned to the next page, and began writing.

1. Cafe dates... he always ordered my drink without asking. Polite, attentive, charming... but also predictable.

2. Parent-teacher meeting dates? Oh god, does that even count? It’s just like what Satoru said.

You paused. Were you supposed to add Satoru’s name while writing in Naoya’s diary? Scoffing, you continued.

He made sure my notes were perfect, held doors open, smiled at every passing teacher like he was running for class president.

3. Dinner at the estate — ugh. The way he spoke to mother, like he was auditioning to be the next clan leader. Why is he so flawless?

You groaned aloud.

“Is he just too perfect or am I just being unfair?”

Annoyed, and also running out of romantic scenarios to write for Naoya’s diary, you picked up Satoru’s diary. It was like the old one you had maintained when you were thirteen. You giggled a little remembering how much you had to plan and strategize on the diary’s hidden location to keep it away from him. You couldn’t be caught dead with him knowing what was in it.

The first thing he had said when you had asked for a new diary was, “Why, is my charm too much for you that you have to pen it down so you don’t overflow?” And god, was he right.

You ran your fingers on the spine of the diary. It was your favourite colour — you wondered how he still remembered that. Did he have his own secret diary you had to find soon? You opened it and began writing.

“Where do I even start with you, you pumpkin?” You giggled at the words you had just scribbled.

1. The staff room date. Well, if you can even call it a date. You barged in uninvited, stole half my lunch, and started criticizing my handwriting like you were some literary genius. Just like you used to. What did you call it when we were kids? A calligraphy competition on every page, huh?

You remembered the scenario all too well.

The staffroom was peaceful for once, the only sounds coming from the ticking clock and the low murmur of the other teachers quietly going about their breaks. You were tucked into the corner by the windows, your lunch spread in front of you, savoring the rare moment.

And of course, it was then that the door flung open with an obnoxious swing.

Satoru Gojo.

You didn’t even have to look up.

“Well, well, look who’s having lunch all alone! No invite for me? Rude.” he smirked, sliding into the chair opposite you like he belonged there. Without waiting for your response, he reached over and casually snatched a piece of your lunch.

You sighed. “I didn’t invite you because I didn’t want you here.”

“Fair enough. Lucky for you, I’m here to grace you with my presence anyway.” He gobbled up your lunch. “Hmm, not bad. You didn’t cook this yourself, did you?”

You snatched your box away from him. “Can you not? This is my lunch.”

Satoru leaned back with a huff. “Whatever.” He noticed your open notebook. “What’s this? Lesson plans? Don’t tell me you’ve been taking this teaching thing seriously.”

“Don’t touch that!”

But he did. And he held it out of reach, flipping through the pages. “Relax, I’m just taking a look. Whoa. Your handwriting hasn’t changed a bit.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know, it looks like you’re trying to win an award for best handwriting or something.”

You flushed. “I just like making it neat!”

“Neat? Are you kidding? I remember trying to copy your style once when we were kids, and mom thought I was possessed.”

You snorted. “Maybe you were just bad at writing.”

“Oh, absolutely. I gave up halfway and just stuck to my chicken scratch.”

2. The sparring match. I hated you for pairing up with me for what? “Showing the kids how it’s done”? What does that even mean? And what kind of lunatic goes easy for three rounds and then wipes the floor with you in the fourth? But afterward, you stayed to help me fix my form. You didn’t have to... but you did.

In the grounds, you stood with your wand in your hand, and across from you stood Satoru, smirking confidently, his wand poised like an extension of his arm.

“Showing off, huh?”

“Shut up, you’re the one who needed my help in ‘teaching these kiddos’,” you shot back. “And besides, I don’t need you to show off in front of them."

“Who said I’m showing off?” He grinned. “Just here to make sure you don’t embarrass yourself.”

He flicked his wand, sending light spells your way. You blocked them as best as you could, but he was always one step ahead.

“You’re not even trying!” You shouted.

“Of course not, I’m just giving you a chance.”

But then, without warning, he shifted his stance and cast a powerful spell that knocked your wand from your hand.

“What the—?”

“Language.”

“—hell”

“Just showing you how it’s done,” he shrugged, and you gritted your teeth.

He stepped closer, handing you your wand. Reluctantly, you took your wand.

“Since when did you become better than me at this?” You asked him.

“Since you forgot your old self among your new troubles,” he replied with a twinkle in his eye.

3. The stargazing. God, Satoru, you’re insufferable. Who even points out constellations while lying on the grass and makes up fake names for them just to make someone laugh?

You laid on the grass, watching the night sky stretch endlessly above you. Satoru was beside you, dramatically pointing at every star he could set his eyes on.

“You see that one? That’s the Satoru constellation. Handsome, charming, and clearly the best in the sky.”

“I don’t think that’s a real constellation,” you giggled.

“It is if I say it is,” he pulled a face.

“Alright, alright,” you shook your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are. Lying next to me, staring at my constellation.”

You stayed quiet, watching as his expression softened. He turned to you, lifting his head with the palm of his hand and looking right into your eyes with his bright blue ones.

“You know,” he whispered. “Stars are kind of overrated.”

You turned to look at him. “Why’s that?”

He spared half a glance at the sky before leaning in to nuzzle into your neck, but he stopped short, barely a few inches away from your skin. “Because I’ve been staring at something brighter all night.”

Your breath hitched, but before you could respond, he turned back to the sky, his usual grin breaking the moment. “I’m just a chill guy, just thinking, you know.”

“About what?” You asked curiously.

“How someone as brilliant as you still gets stars in her eyes every time she looks up.”

“Wow, that’s surprisingly poetic of you.”

“Right?” He gushed over himself. “Don’t get used to it though. I have a reputation to maintain.”

“There it is,” you smiled.

“But seriously,” he laid his head down on the grass right next to your chest. “I don’t mind the stars. I just think the view’s better when you’re in it.”

You turned away, pretending to admire the flowers, but the heat in your cheeks might have given you away.

Why did you look at me like that, like I was the only star that mattered?

──── ୨ৎ ────

Maki leaned against your desk, watching you intently. “So... what's going on with you and Naoya?”

You widened your eyes. She had insisted on staying back to help you rearrange the chairs after class, yet here she was now, asking you questions about your personal life.

“Why does that matter?” You asked, sounding more defensive than you had intended to be.

“He’s from my clan,” she said, as if that was enough of a reason for you to talk about the weird love triangle you had landed yourself in. She sat on your desk, swinging her legs up and down.

“Look, I... I don’t really know. I mean, it’s definitely more than what I expected, but I’m not sure where it’s going.”

Maki raised an eyebrow, her lips pressing into a thin line as if she was considering something. She seemed rather skeptical.

“Alright, just don’t martyr yourself for him.”

Your stomach twisted at her words. Did she even realize what she was saying? You looked up at her, trying to read her expression, but it was hard to tell what she was really thinking.

“What does that even mean?” You asked incredulously.

Maki sighed, pushing herself off from the desk. She walked a few steps towards you. “He’s not worth it,” she said, and then she left the classroom just like that.

What the hell?

You’d known all this while the Zenin clan was among the more orthodox and conservative ones, and you considered yourself lucky to be part of the Gojo clan, one of the more lenient ones. But seeing a young girl, a student you had been teaching for a while nonetheless, voice out a cryptic message, or rather a plea for help from misogynistic fucks, perhaps, made you second-guess the whole idea all over again.

Just what has this girl been through?

Later that day, you spotted Maki and Naoya leaving together, and felt the pit in your stomach deepen.

Something was not right.

──── ୨ৎ ────

Your ears had perked up when you had been told by your mother that there was another meeting of the clans of the nobility, but that wasn’t what had you interested. It was the fact that all the clans would be present, and that included the Ieri, Iori and Geto clans. As much as you were sure your friends would hate to attend this stupid meeting, Satoru’s suggestion of sneaking out made you far more excited than you should be.

So here you were, writing letters to Shoko and Suguru to attend the meeting at all costs after barking Utahime’s ear off to do so as well. You crumpled your parchment up and threw it in a corner for the fifth time.

What were you even supposed to write to friends you’ve grown apart from?

You huffed and began scribbling on fresh parchment once more.

Dear Shoko,

I can already picture you rolling your eyes at this letter. “What is she up to now after not keeping contact for ages?” you’re probably thinking. Well, for once, it’s not mischief, or boy troubles, or even weird investigations cough cough.

It’s been so long since we last saw each other, and I’ve missed you more than words can say. Remember when we used to sneak out of classes just to sit under the old tree and complain about literally everyone? Things have changed so much since then — we’ve changed so much. But I think a part of me still hopes that when I see you, it’ll feel like no time has passed at all.

There’s a clan meeting coming up (ugh, I know), and I heard your clan will be attending. Please tell me you’re coming. I’ll even tolerate your sarcasm if it means we can catch up properly. Bring your flask, too — I have a feeling we’ll need it. Oak tree, Iori Estate, don’t forget.

I can’t wait to see you again. Write back if you have the time, or just show up and surprise me. Either way, I’ll be waiting.

With love and exasperation, Your favourite patient

Good enough, you thought, but Shoko probably won’t even read all of that. Eh well it didn’t matter anyway.

Dear Suguru,

How have you been? Really been? I’ve missed having someone to talk to who actually listens. I’m sure your clan keeps you busy, but I hope you’ve found a moment or two to breathe.

There’s a clan meeting coming up, and I heard the Geto Clan will be attending. Just the thought of seeing you again after all these years makes me... well, nervous, if I’m honest. Not because of anything bad, but because there’s so much I want to say, so much I’ve wanted to ask you.

Do you remember the last time we all sat together, back when things were simpler? I miss that. I miss us. Maybe this meeting will give us a chance to find that again — at least a little.

I hope you’ll be there. No pressure, of course, but if you come, we’ll be waiting under the oak tree out back in the Iori estate. We’d really like to see you.

Take care of yourself, Suguru. And don’t overthink this letter as much as I overthought writing it.

Yours, Your favourite troublemaker

──── ୨ৎ ────

You sat across from Satoru in the carriage to the meeting in silence. His eyes were fixed on the passing scenery outside, but you could tell from the way his fingers fidgeted against his knee that his mind was elsewhere — most likely at the fact that both his mother and father were in another carriage together.

Over the years, their relationship had grown even more strained than it had become on that unfortunate day. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like for either of them to be forced to act like a healthy couple for the sake of a few hours in front of thousands of other people.

“Satoru?” You called softly, and he snapped out of his thoughts.

“Hm?”

You patted his knee. “They’ll be fine.”

He huffed a short laugh, turning his head just enough to glance at you. “You’re too optimistic. What if they explode at each other in the middle of the meeting? Or worse, drag the entire Gojo name through the mud?”

“Then you can just blame me,” you shrugged, trying to lighten the mood. “Say I tripped and caused a distraction, or spilled tea on someone important, or whatever it is that nobles dislike.”

“Oh? And they would believe that? Miss perfect student?” He cracked a small smile.

“I’m not a student anymore,” you stuck your tongue out at him, and he laughed.

“Yeah, but I don’t think that would really improve things.”

“It might. Chaos is a great way to bond people. Just look at us!”

He turned fully to face you now in amusement. “That’s your big plan? Turn the meeting into a comedy night?”

“If it gets you to stop worrying for five seconds, then yes,” you smiled.

He leaned back in his seat, the faintest smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Maybe. But ridiculous is what you need right now.”

He held your gaze for a moment, the storm in his eyes quieting just a little. “Thanks… for, you know, trying.”

“Trying?” You gasped as if offended. “I excel at this. Just wait — by the end of this night, you’ll owe me for single-handedly saving the Gojo name.”

──── ୨ৎ ────

You tiptoed through the dimly lit corridor, Satoru trailing behind you with his usual cocky grin. He wasn’t exactly stealthy, but he was trying his best, even if his ‘best’ meant occasionally tripping over his own feet and knocking random armours on the way.

“This is dumb,” he whispered to you. “We should just portal her out.”

“No! Tha’ll make it too obvious,” you whisper-shouted. “We’re supposed to be discreet.”

“You’re whispering like a toddler playing hide-and-seek,” he snorted and you shushed him. “That’s the opposite of discreet.”

“Shut up. Now where’s the oak tree?”

“Out?”

“Obviously, genius, but where’s ‘out’?”

“Uhhhh,” he dragged out his response before pointing to a very clear exit. “There? You didn’t see that yet?”

You chose not to dignify that jab with a response, pushing open the door to where Shoko and Suguru were supposed to wait for you as per your letters.

“Fuck, it’s dark in here,” your voice echoed for some reason.

“Careful, princess. Wouldn’t want you to be caught swearing like you’re not from a noble clan,” Satoru snickered, and you wanted to whack him on the head like Utahime had done the other day.

“About time,” a bored voice said, making the two of you jump and turn in horror, staring at the darkness to make out the figures that were inching closer and closer to you. “We thought you chickened out from what you said in the letter.”

“Sh-Shoko?”

“Duh.”

“Shoko!” You ran up to her as she came into the light of the estate, hugging her like your life depended on it. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” she patted your shoulder. “Did you two get lost, or were you off making out in a broom closet or something?”

“What?” You deadpanned. “I haven’t seen you in years, and this is how you greet me?”

Suguru grinned from beside her. “I mean, she’s not entirely wrong,” he gave a light punch on the chest to Satoru. “You’re a little flushed.”

“See?” Satoru smirked. “I told you we should’ve taken the broom closet route. Much more efficient.”

You groaned. “Leave that! Utahime’s stuck in some ridiculous ceremony, and we need a plan to get her out.”

“How bad could it be?” Shoko said. “Light some incense, wave your hands, maybe sacrifice a virgin or two, chant a bit, and she’s done, right?”

“You’ve clearly never been to an Iori ritual,” Suguru replied. “They’re like a cult, but boring.”

“Oh, they’re worse than boring,” said Satoru. “They make you kneel for hours, bowing and chanting. And if you screw up, they start over. It’s like boot camp for spiritualists.”

“Exactly,” you said, sighing. “So, we need a distraction. Something big enough to pull her out but small enough not to get us executed by her clan.”

“I say we fake an emergency,” suggested Suguru. “Like, ‘Oh no, a curse is loose!’ Then she’s got to leave.”

“Too obvious,” Shoko lit a cigarette. “They’ll know it’s fake when Satoru doesn’t stop the ‘curse’ immediately.”

“How about an eating contest?” proposed Satoru, immediately earning an actual punch from Shoko.

“What if we convince them that Utahime has to perform an exorcism somewhere else?” asked Suguru. “Like, say, the riverside.”

You snapped your fingers at his brilliance. “Yes! Perfect! We’ll say her ‘spiritual energy’ is needed for a very urgent ritual. Shoko, you’ll pretend to be an elder. Suguru, you’re the messenger. Satoru, just— stand there and look important.”

“Excuse me? I am always important.”

“Anyway—” Shoko interrupted, taking a long drag. “I bought props just because.” She pulled out her bag and unzipped it. Out came tumbling fake moustaches, eyebrows, caps, cloaks and god knows what.

“What the—” you were stunned. “Why did you get this stuff?”

“Told you, just because,” she shrugged. “It’s a stupid clan union meeting. Thought we’d need some entertainment.”

“Shoko, you’re a genius.”

The four of you tried to find the ritual hall amongst the many rooms of the estate. After bullying a random security guard and having him lead you to the hall, Satoru dramatically banged the door open. The elders of the Iori clan all turned to look at the four of you, and Utahime, who was kneeling in the center surrounded by them, glanced up and immediately put her head back down with curses disguised as a cough.

The air was thick with incense and your eyes were burning. Shoko scratched her fake beard, and stepped forward to speak in a loud, rumbling voice. “Elders of the Iori clan!” She lifted her hands up and flailed her arms around wildly to address them. “There has been a disturbance under your watch,” she thundered, “in the northern woods, of which none can speak.”

“A disturbance?” A grandma squeaked. “What kind, Master Yoo?”

You had no idea who Master Yoo was, but if this plan was working, you didn’t care either.

“It shall remain classified,” Suguru stepped forward slowly with a hunchback and a stick. “None can speak of it without endangering everyone else.”

“It is the kind,” you bowed to them, “that only the heir of a true princess born to a clan as unique as yours, in the shadow of an oak as old as yours and for a purpose as grave as this may resolve.”

“Us?” An old man exclaimed. “So you have chosen us?”

“Your heir, to be exact,” Suguru clarified.

“Ah, well, then, we shall send the boy—”

“The girl, please,” you deadpanned.

The elders blinked. “Why the girl?”

“Her energy is unique and, uh, mesmerizing,” Shoko boomed, making them fall to their knees. She dramatically walked to the squeaking grandma and grabbed her by both collars of her kimono. “Your heiress has been chosen by the spirits of the longgone.”

“Chosen, you say?” She squeaked in response. “Why wasn’t this revealed earlier?”

Satoru sighed dramatically while you lifted Utahime up. “Do you always question the will of the spirits? No wonder they never bless this place.”

The elders were flustered. They waved Utahime away. She rose stiffly and, still muttering long strings of curses, followed you all out.

Minutes later, the five of you were lounging by the riverside, the cool night breeze rustling the trees. A bottle of sake was being passed between you, the props of earlier long discarded.

“A divine mission? Really?” Utahime was exasperated. “That’s the best you could come up with?”

You laughed, and Shoko said, “Well, it worked, that’s all that matters.”

“You’re welcome by the way,” Satoru grinned. My ‘important face’ is the only thing that made the whole act believable.”

“That’s because you’re aging,” you sighed. “Aging enough to be one of those elders by now.”

“Owie, that hurt.”

“Your face is important for comedy, not authority, Satoru,” said Suguru. Then, he raised his drink. “To divine missions, friendships, and chaos wherever we go.”

“Cheers!”

The moon was still high, and you wondered how long it would take for your clans to realize that all of you were missing from the main event. The air was filled with the faint sounds of laughter and clinking bottles as your friends enjoyed themselves nearby. Satoru, however, had wandered off to the water’s edge. He crouched, plucking smooth stones from the shore and skipping them across the surface with surprising precision.

You hesitated for a moment, then walked over, unable to resist teasing him.

“What’s this?” You asked playfully. “The Gojo Satoru, retreating from the crowd to have a quiet moment with his thoughts? I thought you thrived on attention.”

Satoru did not look back at you. “Oh, I do,” he half-chuckled. “But I also thrive on balance. Can’t be too perfect all the time — it makes people insecure.”

You snorted. “How generous of you to consider the feelings of the peasants.”

He glanced back at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “See? You get it.”

“Oh, I get it. You’re just here to keep the river from feeling too plain without your dazzling presence.”

He laughed, straightening up and brushing his hands on his pants. “Alright, you caught me. I was giving them all a break from my charm. But what’s your excuse? Couldn’t handle the drinking game?”

“More like I couldn’t handle Suguru trying to explain his ‘philosophical approach’ to sake. What did he say again? ‘Is the sake good because you’re dreaming, or are you dreaming because you’re drinking good sake?’ My brain was melting.”

“Fair point. His monologues can be,” he grinned, “intense.”

You stood beside him now, staring out at the water. He tossed another stone, this one skipping three times before sinking. “Is this what you do when no one’s watching? Brood by the river and play with rocks?”

“First of all, it’s called skipping stones, not playing with rocks. Second, brooding? Me? That’s your job.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re the one standing there like the protagonist of a tragic romance novel, sighing at the stars. Very dramatic.”

You nudged his arm, rolling your eyes.

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you’re still here.”

There was a comfortable silence over both of you. The night felt quieter now, the laughter from the group fading into the background. You shifted, suddenly aware of how close you were standing.

“...You okay?” You asked softly.

He turned to you, his usual grin faltering just slightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. Just feels like there’s something on your mind.”

He held your gaze for a moment, then looked back at the water. “Maybe. But nothing a little stone-skipping and your terrible jokes can’t fix.”

“Terrible?” You grinned. “I’ll have you know I’m the funniest person you love.”

“You’re the only person I love.”

Your smile faded a bit as you looked into his eyes, and he did the same. Suddenly, everything you did was making you feel embarrassed — your breathing, blinking, shaking hands… until he grasped your fingers and put them on his chest.

“Do you feel that?”

Yes.

I feel the love.

You nodded, and he smiled a little. He tipped your chin up to meet your gaze. “How about we ditch the ditching of our super important clan meeting?”

“There’s nothing I wanna do more,” you breathed.

You and Satoru were sneaking back toward the main hall, your laughter still echoing softly as you wiped imaginary dust off his shoulder.

“I can’t believe you slipped on that rock,” you poked your tongue out at him. “All that talk about being graceful—”

“It was one rock, and it was slippery,” he cut you off. “Besides, I saved it. You’re the one who almost fell in the river trying not to laugh.”

“Saved it? You looked like a baby seal trying to ice skate.”

His mock-offended gasp earned another burst of laughter from you. But as you approached the entrance to the meeting hall, your mirth faded. Standing just outside the large carved doors was Satoru’s mother, speaking to a few people. But then she turned around, and her piercing eyes narrowed as they landed on the two of you.

“You two,” she said sharply, and you winced in unison. “How fortunate you both decided to rejoin us.”

“Fortunate?” Satoru was unfazed. “Or just impeccable timing, Mother? You know I always aim to impress.”

“Your absence was noted.” She ignored him completely and turned to look at you. The subtle scrutiny in her eyes made you feel like you’d been caught sneaking sweets from the pantry.

“We just needed some air after all the formalities,” you added hastily.

“Then I trust you’ve had enough of it.”

Without waiting for a reply, Satoru’s mother coolly turned and swept back into the hall. Satoru let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, that was fun.”

Shaking your head, you followed him into the hall. The hum of conversation and clinking glasses immediately engulfed you. The room was grand, the walls lined with banners representing the noble clans in attendance. You recognized faces from the Kamo and Iori clans, along with a handful of others. The two of you slid into unoccupied chairs near the back, just out of your parents’ immediate line of sight.

“Let me guess,” Satoru whispered to you. “Five minutes in here, and you’ll be begging to sneak out again.”

“Ten minutes. I’m trying to behave.”

“You? Behave? That’s new.”

True to his prediction, boredom set in quickly though. The speeches droned on about alliances and tradition, and Satoru began fidgeting. At one point, he caught your eye and mouthed, ‘Let’s go.’

Before you could answer, he grabbed your hand and led you toward the balcony doors. He tugged you through the crowd, weaving around clan leaders and dignitaries with the ease of someone who knew exactly how untouchable they were. You barely managed to stifle a laugh at the old nosy lady he had pushed as he pushed them open and pulled you into the cool night air.

“Satoru — people are watching!”

“Good. They can admire how stunning you look while I steal you away.”

You stood against the railing, the city lights below shimmering like scattered stars, though none of them could light you up like the man in front of you did. Satoru leaned beside you, his elbow brushing against yours.

“Do you ever wonder why they even bother with these meetings? It’s just a bunch of old people pretending they’re still important.”

“Careful,” you smiled. “Those ‘old people’ include your parents.”

“Apologies. Allow me to rephrase: a bunch of old people... and my extraordinarily distinguished parents.”

You laughed softly. “It’s not like you and me here are any better. What is to guarantee that I won’t be bored here?

“Bored? Here, with me? I’m hurt. My company is way more exciting than whatever that was,” he gestured wildly towards the hall. He leaned against the railing, his silver hair catching the moonlight like it was showing itself off. “And besides, you’re the one who kept looking at me like you wanted to escape. Don’t deny it.”

You crossed your arms, raising a brow. “Oh, I was looking at you? Pretty sure it was the other way around, Gojo.”

His grin widened, his eyes narrowing in mock challenge. “Caught me. Can you blame me, though? You’re kind of hard not to stare at.”

The way he said it — too casual, too confident — made your heart skip a beat. Just like it always would when he was around. Just like always.

“Do you ever get tired of flirting?”

Without missing a beat, he replied, “Do you ever get tired of pretending you don’t like it?”

You opened your mouth to retort, but nothing came out. He tilted his head, watching you with an expression that was both smug and softer than usual. “Speechless? That’s a first. I’ll take it — and your blushing face — as a win. See, you like my balcony adventures!”

You sputtered, trying to deny it, but he only laughed, the sound low and warm in the quiet night.

“Maybe I just like the view.”

“Flirting back now?” said Satoru, and you furrowed your brows at him. “I knew you’d cave eventually.”

“That is not what I meant.”

“Too late now,” he grabbed your hand for a second time that night. “I think I like this better,” he leaned in.

The space between you felt smaller. His voice was quieter as he added, “I meant what I said near the riverside. I always will.”

A hand wrapped around your waist, and you couldn’t care less about the number of people that could walk in on you at this exact moment. You inched closer to him, too shy to ask for what you wanted. But he did so as well, granting you the permission you needed.

You closed your eyes, parting your lips.

A sister.

No, that was a lie.

He loved you.

Your lips brushed against each other’s for half a second before—

“Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You both jumped slightly, and Satoru pulled back, his expression immediately darkening. You turned to see Naoya strolling toward you with his usual smug smile.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything important,” he bowed in front of you, kissing the back of your hand like he owned it. “Care to join me for a dance?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but Satoru stepped forward, his hand still lightly brushing your other one. “Actually, we were in the middle of something—”

“I’m sure it can wait. After all, a Zenin doesn’t ask twice.”

You glanced between them, and with a resigned sigh, you forced a polite smile and stepped toward Naoya, your heart sinking as you felt Satoru’s hand fall away.

“...I’ll be back,” you said to Satoru.

His only response was a tight nod. As Naoya led you back inside, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder. Satoru stood there on the balcony, his hands in his pockets, watching as you disappeared into the crowd.

Naoya led you onto the dance floor with confident strides. “You’re light on your feet. A perfect match for me, wouldn’t you agree?”

You bit back a retort, focusing instead on the music and not the way his hand lingered just a little too long on your waist. You still weren’t sure whether the tingling on your hand was because of Naoya’s little kiss or due to Satoru’s touches earlier. And you didn’t get a chance to ponder on it either.

Naoya twirled you out dramatically, and when he pulled you back in, his lips brushed your knuckles in a gesture too showy to be sincere.

From the corner of your eye, you caught Satoru leaning against a pillar stiffly. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, but you could see the tension in his shoulders. His jaw was tightened as he watched Naoya spin you across the floor.

“Unbelievable,” you read his lips.

But if he had a problem, he’d say something, you thought. Or was he too much of a coward to do so?

Naoya dipped you — dramatically, of course — and you couldn’t miss the way Satoru’s expression darkened, his knuckles whitening as his hands clenched into fists. Finally, he pushed off the pillar, striding toward the two of you.

“Mind if I take over?” He said smoothly. “The lady looks like she’s had enough of your theatrics.”

“Is that so?” He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t hear her complaining.”

“You didn’t ask,” you said flatly.

Naoya’s smirk faltered just enough to give you a flicker of satisfaction before Satoru stepped between you. “Thanks for warming her up for me, man.”

Without waiting for a response, Satoru took your hand and placed his other hand on your waist, effortlessly guiding you into the next step.

“Jealous much?” You teased him.

“Jealous? Nah. Just couldn’t stand watching him butcher a perfectly good waltz.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. At first, the dance felt awkward. His hand was just a little too tight on your waist, and your steps were slightly out of sync.

“For someone so full of himself, you’re surprisingly bad at this,” you said.

“Excuse me?” He replied, mock-offended. “I’m amazing at this. You’re just distracted by how good I look.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.”

But as the music slowed, and the crowd dispersed, his teasing grin softened. His hand on your waist relaxed as his thumb brushed against the fabric of your dress.

“You didn’t answer me earlier.”

That caught you off guard. You looked up, meeting his gaze, and for a moment, the noise of the room faded into the background.

“You didn't ask.”

The corners of his mouth lifted, not in his usual cocky smirk, but in something gentler, more genuine.

“Well, then, I will. Do you still… you know?”

“You know what?”

“Love me like you did?”

Your feet stopped.

Did you?

Or more than that, should you?

“Is it bad if I do?”

“No, not bad at all,” he smiled.

“Satoru.”

“Hm?”

“Why did you? That day. Why?” You asked him softly the one question you had been dying to ask for three whole years.

“I… Fuck. Naoya, him, I couldn’t—” his hands dropped from your waist, and you flinched a little, moving a few feet back, realizing that your question might have messed your moment up. “Angel—”

“Attention, please,” Naoya clinked a glass loudly. “I have an announcement I’d like to make here.”

The hum of conversation in the room died down as all eyes turned toward him. You and Satoru both turned to look at him.

“This is a moment I’ve been looking forward to all of tonight. All my life, I have wanted nothing more than to serve the woman of my dreams, and tonight, I wish to solidify not only the bonds between our families but also the bond I share with this remarkable woman.”

He turned to you, his smile widening as he reached into his pocket. He strutted towards you. Your blood ran cold as he pulled out a velvet box, dropping to one knee in one fluid motion. Naoya opened the box, revealing a glittering ring) “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, Ms Gojo?”

The room erupted into soft gasps and murmurs of approval, particularly from the Zenin elders. You stood frozen, every pair of eyes in the room drilling into you. All of them, all their stares and expectations felt suffocating.

Your eyes looked at Satoru’s and he seemed like he wanted you to say no. You looked at the elders and they all wanted you to say yes. You looked at your mother, and her eyes were glossy, yet you would take that more than anything else at this moment. Because they didn’t have your answer ready for you in them. They wanted to let you choose.

“I… I don’t—” you were barely audible. Could everyone just look away from you?

The words stuck in your throat. The weight of Naoya’s proposal, the stares—

“I don’t know.”

The collective murmurs grew louder and confused. For a split second, Naoya’s expression flickered. He looked irritated with your answer. But just as quickly, he smoothed it over, standing and pulling you into a light embrace.

He laughed softly and brushed his lips against your cheek. “She’s overwhelmed. It’s a lot to take in, I understand. These things can’t be rushed, can they?” He turned to the crowd, his tone light and reassuring. “She’s just shy, that’s all. I’ll give her all the time she needs.”

Polite applause broke out, and the pressure in the room became unbearable. Naoya’s hand settled on the small of your back, guiding you toward a quieter corner, and you wanted to wrench it away from your body.

But you couldn’t. Your eyes darted to Satoru. He hadn’t moved. His icy gaze was locked on Naoya, his jaw tense, his entire body screaming for you. And yet, beneath the frustration in his expression, there was something else — something raw and unspoken.

Something you recall seeing in your own eyes.

Three years ago.

You finally cornered Satoru in the training courtyard after quite a while of him dodging your presence for the rest of the night. He was leaning against a pillar, arms crossed, staring at a fountain in the middle of the gardens.

“Satoru.” You stepped closer to him. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

He didn’t even glance at you, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance. “I’ve been busy.”

“That’s a lie and you know it. You’ve been avoiding me like I’m some kind of plague.”

Satoru finally turned to you, and said with a bitter laugh, “What do you want me to say? That everything’s fine? That I’m thrilled about everything that’s happening?”

“You could at least tell me the truth! I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”

His jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “You don’t understand? Fine. Do you know how hard it is for me to see you with him?” His voice cracked slightly, the anger giving way to something new. “To know he gets to touch you? To see you smile at him like that?”

You froze, the weight of his words hitting you like a tidal wave. “Satoru…”

But he didn’t let you finish. He took a step back from you. “You didn’t even reject him. You stood there, and you let him—”

He stopped himself, his voice breaking off. He looked away, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“I didn’t know what to do! Everyone was watching, and I—”

“You should’ve said no!” He shouted. The silence that followed was deafening. He stared at you, his chest rising and falling as he tried to rein in his emotions. Then, he whispered quietly, as if about to cry any second. “You should’ve said no.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

──── ୨ৎ ────

The Gojo estate was eerily quiet as you made your way to Satoru’s mother’s quarters. Your heart pounded in your chest. You knocked softly, and her calm voice invited you inside.

Satoru’s mother was seated by a low table, a cup of tea in hand. She looked up, her eyes softening as she took in your disheveled state. “Darling, what’s the matter?”

You sat across from her, your hands trembling as you tried to form the words. You choked a sob. “Did I make a mistake?”

“Mistake?”

“By not saying no to Naoya right away?”

Her expression didn’t waver, but she leaned forward, placing a comforting hand over yours. “You were caught off guard,” she said gently. “Anyone would’ve been overwhelmed in that situation."

Tears welled in your eyes again, and you shook your head. “But now I’ve hurt Satoru. He… he’s so angry with me. I don’t even know how to fix this.”

She sighed softly, her grip on your hand tightening slightly. “Listen to me, dear. Voicing your uncertainty was not a mistake. It’s far better to be honest about your feelings than to make a choice you might regret.”

You wiped at your tears. Her words were comforting, but they were not enough to ease the ache in your chest.

“But what if I choose wrong? What if I lose everything?”

She stood then, moving to sit beside you. She wrapped an arm around your shoulders, holding you, and you took this moment to let it all out. You cried on her shoulder, staining her dress, but she didn’t care. She merely held you and let you cry and scream all you wanted.

“If you choose to marry into the Zenin clan, I won’t stop you. But make sure it’s truly what you want. Not what they want, not what Naoya wants. What you want.” You clung to her, your tears soaking into her sleeve. “As for Satoru…” she smiled faintly. “He’s stubborn, but he’ll come around. He just needs to be reminded that he’s not losing you.”

The school courtyard was quiet that morning. The winter night had forced most of the kids to stay indoors, and the chilly effect of the weather had perhaps drowned out their usual noise. You were lost in thought, replaying the events of the previous evening, when Maki appeared in front of you.

Her stance was confident as always, but her eyes betrayed her. They were rimmed with red, and her face was pale with exhaustion.

“We need to talk.”

“What?”

“I said we need to talk.”

You shrugged and nodded, signalling her to begin speaking.

She took a deep breath in. “Don’t do it. Don’t marry into the Zenin family.” The words came out in a desperate rush.

“Maki, I—”

“You don’t understand. They’ll destroy you. They’ll take everything good about you and crush it until there’s nothing left.”

Her hands were clenched into fists, trembling at her sides. You reached out to touch her arm, but she pulled away.

“I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it. The way they treat women, like we’re nothing but tools. They’ll smile to your face and stab you in the back the moment you’re no longer useful.” Her voice cracked, and she stopped, her back to you.

You called her gently. “Maki…”

She turned to face you, tears spilling down her cheeks despite her obvious effort to hold them back. “You’re stronger than me, I know that. But they’ll find a way to break you too. Please… don’t let them.”

The raw emotion in her voice shattered something inside you. You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around her, holding her tightly as she cried into your shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Maki,” you whispered to her. “For everything they’ve done to you."

She clung to you for a moment before pulling back, wiping at her tears furiously. “Just promise me you’ll think about it. Don’t let them win.”

You nodded, your throat too tight to speak. As you watched her walk away, shoulders hunched against the weight of her past, you couldn’t help but wonder what horrors this brave girl had endured — and what kind of future awaited her if she stayed under the Zenin family’s thumb.

──── ୨ৎ ────

“What the hell are they doing here?” you whisper-screamed to your mother. Your voice was trembling despite your attempt to sound composed.

The last time the Kamo clan had graced the Gojo estate with their presence, it ended disastrously. More than that, he was here — the face of your nightmares, the man who had haunted your memories for over a decade.

You clenched your hands in your lap, nails biting into your palms as you stared down at the tatami mat, praying for this to be over. But no prayer could save you now. Not when you were practically being forced to bow in front of Kamo Daijiro, the man who had shattered your childhood before it had even begun.

Kamo Daijiro grinned wickedly as he took his seat, his wife Lady Akane and his daughter trailing behind like his shadows. His voice was oily and smug as he broke the silence.

“Ah, the Gojo family. Always full of surprises, aren’t we?” He said mockingly. “First, a marriage proposal with my daughter, Alina, rejected outright by your mother. What a waste of time, huh?”

The room seemed to blur around you. His words faded, replaced by the echoes of the past: the cold stone walls of the basement, the suffocating darkness, the metallic clink of chains binding your wrists.

“Stay quiet,” his voice whispered in your memory. You could feel his hand gripping your arm, dragging you down those steps into hell. Your chest tightened. You blinked rapidly, trying to ground yourself, but his next words yanked you back into the present.

“And now, of course, the Zenin proposal with you.” His gaze landed on you sharply his lips twisting into a cruel smirk. “Two rejected proposals. Not every family is lucky enough to fail so spectacularly, hmm?”

Your heart pounded painfully, the edges of your vision going white. The scars on your fingertips throbbed — perhaps from the rough stones you had used to carve evidences of your torture on the walls of the Kamo estate.

“Sell her,” his voice echoed in your mind. “She’ll fetch a good price.”

The memory hit you like a punch to the gut. You were three years old, crying for your mother, and he was laughing. Laughing as strangers examined you like a product, bartering for your life.

Why did you remember the worst moments of your life?

Satoru’s — no, your mother’s voice broke through the haze. “Speak something sensible or leave, Kamo.” Her words were firm, but you could hear the strain in her voice. She was trying to protect you, but she seemed to realize that even she couldn’t erase the ghosts of the past from your mind.

Kamo Daijiro tilted his head, feigning politeness as he bowed slightly. “Ah, but you should be made aware of what you’ve caused, Lady Gojo. Two lives ruined because of a stupid fantasy between your kids.”

“Enough, Daijiro,” said Satoru’s father.

You blinked, startled by the unexpected intervention. Satoru’s father rarely spoke, let alone in defense of his family. Wasn’t he the one hellbent on getting Satoru married just a few years ago? Perhaps his time in isolation in his room made him realize his mistake.

“Let me remind you that the Gojo family does not bend to the whims of the Kamo Clan. We never have and never will. So whatever you think, we do not care. Yet you cannot stand here under our roof and speak that way about us, Kamo. Leave.”

Daijiro’s smirk faltered,. The confidence in his posture waned for a fraction of a second. But that moment was enough for you to breathe again. Your mother’s hand slipped over yours under the table, grounding you back to reality, your present away from the horrors of your past.

As Daijiro stood to leave, he glanced at you one last time. His eyes gleaming with a twisted satisfaction.

“You’ll never escape me, little one.”

Beat.

Did he know?

The Kamo family took their leave, but one pair of eyes lingered. Kamo Alina.

She hadn’t said a word throughout her father’s tirade, but now her gaze bore into you, there was something haunted in her expression, something that wasn’t there three years ago when she had tried to charm Satoru out from under your nose.

You didn’t trust it one bit.

You found yourself alone in the garden after the fiasco from earlier. The crisp air nipped at your skin, but it wasn’t enough to shake the phantom memories of The Kamos’ voices echoing in your mind.

A soft rustle behind you made you turn. Alina stood there, her posture hesitant. That was new — gone was the confident, smug girl who used to mock you mercilessly as a child.

“You don’t have the Gojo surname.”

It wasn’t a question. Her tone was quiet, almost confused.

You stiffened, your fingers curling into the fabric of your sleeves. “Why does it matter?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she stepped closer, her hands wringing nervously. “It’s just... strange. You’ve lived with them for so long, haven’t you? And you were even engaged to… you know. Shouldn’t you have their name by now?”

The words cut deeper than you expected. You knew why you didn’t have their name. Why Lady Gojo had never officially adopted you despite raising you like her own. Because your past was a stain that no amount of time could wash away, and your future a fate you wanted to live.

But you didn’t say that. Not to Alina. Not to anyone.

Instead, you crossed your arms, forcing a smirk. “Why do you care? Planning to make fun of me again, like when we were kids?”

Her expression faltered, and for the first time, you saw something genuine in her eyes. Regret. “I…” she paused. “I’m not here to make fun of you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by her tone. It wasn’t what you expected, and that unsettled you more than anything else.

“I just... I don’t understand. Why aren’t you proud to be a Gojo? To have a family like that?”

Because I’m not one of them.

Not yet, anyway, a voice in your head hoped.

But you didn’t say that either. Instead, you looked away, your voice colder than you intended. “You wouldn’t understand.”

She flinched like you had just yelled at her, and her hands dropped to her sides.

Yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that she might understand, more than you gave her credit for. Because for all her faults, she wasn’t Kamo Daijiro. Or Kamo Akane. Or those auctioners. She wasn’t the one who had abandoned you, sold you off, abused you like you were a piece of meat.

And then it hit you. The thought that had been nagging at the back of your mind ever since you saw her face.

Kamo Akane’s daughter. That was who Alina was. Which made her...

Your half-sister.

The realization made your stomach drop. Your eyes widened at nothing in particular, and your fingers began shaking.

Sister?

All this time, you never gave a thought about it. But it was so obvious, so clear.

Your blood.

The Kamo blood.

You gulped. No, never. Never the Kamo blood. You didn’t want to be associated with the Kamo clan, not in any way.

“I guess you won’t tell me, will you?” Her voice broke the silence, and you glanced back at her. There was no malice in her expression, no smugness, just confusion.

“No. I won’t,” you responded firmly.

She nodded slowly, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Maybe I deserve that.”

She turned to leave, and for a moment, you almost stopped her.

Almost.

The Gojo estate was unusually quiet that week since the chaos of the Kamo family’s visit was finally behind you. Yet, you couldn’t sleep at all at night. So you did what you always do. You wandered the halls aimlessly, walking from door to door in search of sleep.

You paused outside the study, hearing low voices.

“...I know I failed you, Satoru.”

Your breath caught. That was Satoru’s father.

“I was so focused on the family, on tradition,” his father continued with regret. “I thought I was protecting you, ensuring our legacy would thrive. But all I did was push you toward a life you didn’t want. A life you didn’t deserve.”

Satoru’s response was softer than usual. “You didn’t just push me — you forced my hand. That engagement with Alina... I didn’t even have a say.”

There was a heavy silence.

“I know,” his father finally admitted. “And when your mother stood there and defied me... I hated myself for it. Because deep down, I knew she was right.”

You inched closer to the door. You know you shouldn’t be eavesdropping on this intimate conversation between a father and a son, but you knew you would have stayed awake for a couple more hours if you didn’t hear this completely.

His father sighed with a sound that was weary and old. “I wanted to say this to you for a long time. I’m proud of you, Satoru. Not because of what you are, but because of who you are. Strong, stubborn, and a lot like your mother.”

There was a soft chuckle from Satoru, tinged with disbelief. “Like mother? That’s a first.”

His father continued. “I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness. But I want you to know, I’ll never stand in your way again. Whatever you choose for yourself, for your future... I’ll support it.”

You could hear the emotion in Satoru’s voice, even as he tried to hide it. “That’s all I ever wanted, Dad.”

Another pause, this one heavy with unspoken words.

“I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it out,” his father admitted.

There was the faint sound of movement, and you imagined Satoru standing. “Thanks, old man.”

You pushed open the door to Satoru’s room a few minutes later. You didn’t expect him to be present there, obviously. He might still be with his father, and you didn’t wish to eavesdrop on their conversation anymore.

Satoru’s room was empty, eerily quiet. His desk was tidy, his bed neatly made. Everything was in its place, except him. You sighed, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

For days, the memory of his half-finished confession had haunted you. The way he’d almost spoken, almost revealed just why he had told you those harsh words all those years ago. Almost. Before Naoya cut him off, of course. Why did he do that? Why did he say that? Why had he pushed you away? You clenched your fists, planning to stay there and wait all night if you had to, just to get the answers of those questions that had haunted you all this time.

The sound of the door creaking open jolted you from your thoughts. Relief flooded you, only to freeze when you realized it wasn’t Satoru standing there.

“Who are you?” You immediately asked.

It was a young woman. She was dressed as if she was a servant of the Gojo clan, but you didn’t recognize her.

“I–It’s me, Princess!”

“Tomoko?” you asked, frowning at the maid’s pale, trembling figure. “From the Kamo clan?” Your eyes widened in realization. “What are you doing here?”

“I... I need to tell you something, Princess,” she stammered. Her eyes darted nervously around the room. Her fingers fidgeted with each other. She couldn’t even look you in the eye. What was she hiding? Why was she here anyway? Something was wrong — terribly wrong.

“What is it?” you asked cautiously, standing up.

Tomoko wrung her hands, tears brimming in her eyes. “I... I poisoned Gojo-sama,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Your father, your highness.”

“What?” The word burst from you like a gunshot. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Tomoko flinched, but she continued, her voice shaking. “I didn’t want to do it. I swear on your greatness, Princess! But I was ordered to — by my clan… The Kamo clan.”

The Kamo clan?

Of course, it’s them.

It’s always them.

Your knees felt weak, and you stumbled, grabbing the bedpost for support. “What poison? How long — how long does he have?”

“It’s a rare poison,” Tomoko said, her voice cracking. “They got it from somewhere and had me— had me seal it in his wine. There is no cure. He has days left. A week, at most, Princess.”

The room spun, and anger surged through you. “You poisoned him, and you’re only telling me now?”

“I didn’t have a choice!” Tomoko wailed, falling to her knees. “They threatened my family. And— and me too! If I didn’t do it, they said they’d kill us. I— I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” Your voice rose, trembling with fury. “Oh, you’re sorry? And what the fuck do you expect me to say?” She gasped at your choice of words. “You expect me to forgive you for poisoning someone? For poisoning my fucking father?”

“I didn’t know what else to do!” she sobbed, her hands clutching at her chest. “Please, I can’t live with this guilt.”

You stared at her, your hands shaking, your mind racing. Satoru’s father, the man who had finally begun to reconcile with his son, finally, finally begun to relive and make up for all the wasted time, was dying.

And the Kamo clan was behind it.

They had already torn your life apart when you were a child. And now they were doing it again.

Why couldn’t they just leave you alone?

“Get out,” you said, your voice low trembling with barely contained rage.

Tomoko looked up at you, startled. “But—”

“Get out,” you repeated, louder this time. “And don’t ever show your face here again.”

“Please, I—”

“Leave!” you screamed, your voice breaking. “You will only get killed here — by my soldiers or by my hands!”

Tomoko scrambled to her feet, stumbling toward the door. She hesitated for a moment, as if she wanted to say something else, but the fury in your eyes made her think better of it. She fled the room. The door slammed shut behind her.

For a moment, you just stood there, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Then, slowly, you sank onto the bed, burying your face in your hands. Tears stung your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not yet. Not until you figured out what to do.

Because another piece of your newfound life was tearing, and no amount of rage or despair could change that.

──── ୨ৎ ────

Ever since that night, you had been hoping, praying even, that whatever Tomoko had said that day was false. That your father was perfectly healthy, and he’d live a long life. But Satoru noticed how his father would stumble on his steps at times. Your mother noticed her husband’s loss of appetite. And overtime, as this worsened, you couldn’t deny it anymore.

Your father was dying.

And that was going to break you.

You hadn’t spoken a word about it to anyone. You should, you knew that. But how? Mother was always too busy fussing over him. Satoru had been avoiding you since that night with Naoya. How were you supposed to say a word?

The hallway outside Satoru’s parents’ room was dimly lit. They had begun sharing rooms again, and you wanted to be happy for them. But this would only go on for about five days longer, you thought ominously. You stood awkwardly near the door, waiting for your mother to emerge. Inside, you could hear her fussing over her husband tenderly.

“Stay in bed, please. The tea is still warm — I’ll bring it to you.” “I’m fine, love,” he replied weakly. “You’re the one who needs rest.”

There was a muffled sound of her setting something on a table, and then footsteps. she opened the door, stepping out into the hallway. She startled slightly at the sight of you, but her face quickly softened when she realized it was you.

“Are you waiting for Satoru? He’s not back yet,” she said, smoothing her sleeves. “No, I—” Your throat felt tight, and you took a moment to gather your courage. “Mother, I need to tell you something.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly in concern, and she gestured for you to follow her into the small sitting room across the hall. She sat gracefully, folding her hands in her lap. You tumbled into your seat, taking a deep breath.

“It’s about Father,” you begin hesitantly.

“What about him?”

“I… I know what happened to him,” you said cryptically. She raised an eyebrow at you, gesturing for you to continue. “One of the Kamo maids, Tomoko… She stayed back after the leaders had left and disguised herself as one of ours. And she told me. That she had poiso—”

“Enough,” she held up a hand to stop you, and you flinched. For a moment, her expression didn’t change. Then she closed her eyes and let out a long, quiet sigh. “I know,” she said softly.

The admission took you aback. “You... you know?”

She nodded, her fingers tightening briefly around the fabric of her kimono. “He told me as soon as he realized. In the past two days, we’ve consulted every healer, every remedy. There’s nothing… nothing that can be done now.” Her voice trembled just slightly, and she pressed her lips together to steady herself.

“Mother,” you whisper.

She waved a hand dismissively, but her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I should apologize to you for allowing the Kamo clan to enter our lives. I couldn’t protect my family as I should have. I’m a terrible mother.”

You shook your head vehemently. “You’re the best. The best mother and the best leader. And everything else you are.”

“Thank you, darling.” You could see the strain in the smile she gave you, and she looked older in the candlelight.

“But what do we do now?”

Lady Gojo exhaled, leaning back slightly. “Now, my only concern is making his last days as peaceful as possible. If Satoru were to find out...” Her voice broke for a moment, and she looked away as if to compose herself. “It would destroy him,” she continued. “He’s been through too much already. I won’t let this pain touch him — not yet.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat at her last words. “What can I do?”

She smiled faintly, though it didn't reach her eyes. “Just be there for him. When the time comes, he’ll need you more than ever.”

You were pacing outside the garden. Every step crunched against the gravel path. Your thoughts were swirling with your mother’s confession, and her desire to keep it a secret from Satoru. But the last time you had kept something a secret from him, it had resulted in the loss of three years from your life. You couldn’t let that happen again.

But could you disobey your mother? So you had been doing the best thing you could possibly do in that situation — avoiding Satoru all day. But apparently, that wasn’t enough.

“Hey,” his voice startled you as he appeared seemingly out of nowhere. “What’s going on with you?”

You whirled around, clutching your chest. “W-What do you mean?”

He squinted at you, crossing his arms. “This!” He said, as if that explained everything. “You’ve been acting weird. Stuttering, avoiding eye contact, mumbling when you talk to me. That’s not like you at all.”

You forced out a laugh, waving your hand dismissively. “Oh, come on. You’re imagining things.”

Satoru took a step closer. “Don’t lie to me.”

You panicked and shouted. “I’m not lying!”

He narrowed his eyes in frustration. “You can’t even say that without stuttering.” Then he sighed. “Alright, tell me. What’s going on?”

“If you think of me as your sister were all the moments we spent together false or am I overthinking?” You blurted out.

Satoru froze, caught off guard. For a moment, the only sound between the two of you was the rustling of leaves in the evening breeze.

“What?”

“Three years ago,” you pressed, your voice trembling slightly. “At the Kamo meeting. You called me your sister after they had brought up—”

“I know what I said,” he cut you off, his jaw tightening. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“Then… why?” you whispered, stepping closer. “Why would you say that? Why would you—”

“Naoya,” he spat venomously.

You blinked, utterly confused. “Naoya?”

He let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. “That bastard. He...” Satoru trailed off, his expression darkening.

“What about Naoya?”

Satoru hesitated, as if weighing whether or not to tell you. Finally, he exhaled sharply. “He said... things. About you. About what he’d… do to you if we, you know, got closer to each other. And I couldn’t let that happen. He was older, definitely experienced and all of that. I didn’t feel like the strongest anymore when I saw him say that.”

Your breath caught, and a cold chill ran down your spine. “Satoru. When did this happen? What did he say to you?”

“Don’t make me say it,” he snapped, but his anger seemed to be directed more towards Naoya than at you. “It happened right around the time you got detention, I still remember. He had told me he didn’t like how we were with each other. And how I was nothing, pathetic. How I could never protect you from… from him. And he had struck a deal with me that day — that he would stop it all if I was able to convince everyone that we couldn’t... that we didn’t...”

“That we didn’t what?” you whispered.

Satoru met your gaze with guilt. “That we didn’t belong together. That you were like a sister to me.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. But he continued.

“And then that day I had found out we were engaged. I was so happy, but also devastated. If that guy didn’t like us then, how would he like it if we got married? So I tried to stop it. Tried to break your heart. Like a coward. Like a fool.”

“Stop it!” You staggered back. “You’re not a coward!”

“Yes I am,” he shook his head. “You don’t understand. I got scared. He was older than me. He knew more. What if he whipped out some charm I didn’t recognize and killed you or something? I’d never be able to forgive myself. Not that I can now either.”

“Satoru—”

“I didn’t deserve the tears you spent on me that time. I didn’t deserve to see you break down. All those times your eyes would brim, my heart would claw at me to stop itself.”

“You don’t mean—” Your eyes widened, and he merely nodded, not looking at you at all.

“I didn’t have a choice,” he said quietly, his shoulders slumping. “But it doesn’t matter now. None of it matters now.”

──── ୨ৎ ────

Satoru’s father’s funeral was held on a chilly afternoon. The air was thick with unspoken grief. The Gojo estate, usually buzzing with life, was eerily quiet. Even the wind seemed reluctant to disturb the solemn atmosphere. The bare branches of trees trembled like fragile fingers.

A sea of black-clad mourners gathered, their heads bowed in respect, but it all felt hollow to you. Each condolence, every whispered prayer, was a reminder of the man who was no longer here, and you couldn’t shake the gnawing guilt in your chest.

You stood off to the side, your hands clasped tightly in front of you, staring at the pristine white casket adorned with lilies. The sight blurred as tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them away, unwilling to cry in front of so many people. Your grief felt undeserved, selfish even, given the weight of your secret.

You had known about the poison. You knew about the slow and inevitable death of Satoru’s father. You knew, yet you had done nothing, just let it all happen. Could you have stopped it? Could you have saved him? The questions circled in your mind like vultures.

Satoru stood at the front, his back straight. His face seemed like it had been carved from stone. The usual spark in his eyes was gone. It was replaced by a cold emptiness that made your stomach churn. He hadn’t cried, not even once, as far as you knew. You wished he would. You wished that he would let himself grieve, scream, do anything to release the agony he must be feeling. But he was silent, like a statue among the living, and it broke your heart.

The ceremony dragged on. Each passing moment felt heavier than the last. When it finally ended, the crowd began to disperse, murmuring their condolences to Satoru’s mother, who stood like a ghost beside her son. You watched her, too, feeling a pang of sadness at how frail she seemed.

You wanted to approach Satoru, to say something, anything. But your feet felt rooted to the ground. What could you possibly say that wouldn’t sound as numb as you were feeling? The guilt in your chest tightened its grip, and you turned away, unable to face him.

Back at the estate, the house felt colder than ever. Dinner was a silent affair, just as it had been a few months ago. Because just as the lively chatter had begun to replace the clinking of utensils and the occasional sniffle, it had been snatched away from you.

Satoru’s mother tried to maintain some semblance of normalcy, asking if anyone needed seconds or more tea, but her voice was brittle, and no one answered her with more than a shake of their head. You couldn’t bring yourself to eat, pushing the food around on your plate as you stole glances at Satoru.

He sat across from you, staring blankly at his untouched meal. The shadows under his eyes were darker than ever, and his usually flawless posture was slightly slouched. It was as if the weight of his father’s death had physically pressed down on him. You wanted to reach out, to say something, but the words died in your throat. Instead, you watched in silence as he eventually stood, his chair scraping against the floor, and left the room without a word.

You couldn’t sleep that night. The house was too quiet, the kind of quiet that made every creak of the floorboards and every whisper of the wind feel deafening. You found yourself wandering the halls, your feet carrying you to the room that had once belonged to Satoru’s father. It was untouched, as if he might walk back in at any moment. The faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air, and it made your chest ache.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into the emptiness, tears streaming down your face. “I’m so, so sorry.”

The days following the funeral were no easier. The once lively Gojo household felt like a mausoleum. Meals were eaten in near silence, and the air was heavy with unspoken grief. You found yourself avoiding Satoru more and more, not because you didn’t want to comfort him, but because you didn’t know how.

One evening, you found yourself in the library, hoping to distract yourself with a book. But the words on the page blurred together, and you couldn’t focus. The guilt was a constant, gnawing presence, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake it. The image of Satoru’s father lying in his coffin haunted you, and you couldn’t help but wonder if things would have been different if you had acted sooner.

“What are you doing in here?”

You jumped, the book slipping from your hands as you turned to see Satoru standing in the doorway. His hair was slightly disheveled, and his expression was unreadable. You quickly wiped at your eyes, hoping he hadn’t noticed the tears.

“I just needed some quiet,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He walked into the room, his footsteps soft against the carpet. He picked up the book you had dropped, glancing at the cover before handing it back to you. “Mother’s calling you,” he said, his tone carefully neutral.

“For?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

“Dinner,” he said bluntly. “You haven’t been eating at all.”

You nodded, and he stood up and left without saying another word.

Dinner that night was a solemn affair. The dining room was heavy with silence, broken only by the occasional clinking of chopsticks against plates. Satoru’s face was blank, his appetite long gone. His mother sat at the head of the table. Her posture was perfectly composed. You sat beside her, feeling like an interloper in this world of quiet mourning. A seat was left empty, for whom, you didn’t have to guess.

The ache in your chest was unbearable, but guilt magnified it tenfold. You had been the one to discover the truth, the one who knew about the poison before anyone else. And yet, you had done nothing.

A soft knock on the door broke the oppressive quiet. One of the maids entered, bowing deeply as she held out a folded piece of paper. “Lady Gojo—” she glanced at her, unsure of how to approach her in her desensitized state — “we found this while cleaning the late master’s study. It’s addressed to you, Princess,” she bowed to you.

The maid extended the letter to you, and you accepted it hesitantly. Your heart immediately sank at the sight of your name scrawled in bold, deliberate handwriting. Satoru’s mother nodded at the maid to dismiss her, then at you.

“Read it,” she said softly. “Whatever he’s written, it’s meant for you to hear.”

You unfolded the paper carefully, your hands shaking as you smoothed it out. The opening lines confirmed your suspicion.

“To my dearest child,

If you are reading this, then it means I am no longer among the living. There are matters I could not speak of while alive, and so I leave them here, trusting you to read with an open heart.”

Your voice wavered as you read aloud. Satoru and his mother both watched you intently.

“In my absence, I leave behind all that I have built, not as burdens, but as tools for you to continue shaping our legacy.

To my wife, the pillar of my strength, I entrust our estate and all its affairs. She has always been my compass, and I know she will guide our family with the same wisdom and grace she has always shown. To my son, Satoru, I leave my knowledge, my pride, and my unwavering belief in your potential. He is destined for greatness, and though I may not be there to see it, I know he will honor the Gojo name with dignity and strength. So I shall also leave our ancestral blade, a symbol of our family’s strength and honor, along with the records of our techniques and histories.”

To you, my dear daughter, I bequeath the east wing of the estate, yours to claim as a sanctuary and a symbol of your place among us. Furthermore, I leave a yearly stipend from the family’s accounts, ensuring you will always have the means to build a life of stability and comfort.”

But then your voice caught, the words ahead freezing in your throat.

The second paragraph shifted abruptly, no longer a formal testament but a recounting of events that made your blood run cold.

“The past few years I had spent alone were ones spent to find the roots of your journey home, here. I know the pain you carry, and the secrets you keep. I know how you came into this world. Kamo Akane, your mother—”

You stopped reading it aloud, and instead your eyes began darting back and forth the lines as you read it in your head.

Kamo Akane, your mother, made the impossible choice to keep you despite everything she endured. She bore you with strength, but her circumstances were cruel. Kamo Daijiro never accepted you, and he made sure she couldn’t either. When you were only three years old, they both agreed to sell you to the traders of Mizuho.

Your breath hitched. The paper in your hands crinkled as your grip tightened. You couldn’t read further. The memories you had buried deep threatened to overwhelm you. The cold basement. The chains. The voices. The pain.

“What is it?” Satoru asked with concern. “Why did you stop?”

You shook your head, unable to meet his gaze. “It’s nothing.”

“That’s a lie,” he said flatly.

You tried to fold the letter, to hide it away, but your trembling hands betrayed you. Satoru reached out, his fingers brushing against yours as he snatched the paper. “If you won’t read it, I will.”

“No!” you protested, but it was too late. His eyes scanned the words quickly, his expression darkening with each passing second. He reached the part about the traders, and his jaw clenched. His hands shook, but he didn’t stop until he reached the final lines.

I knew about the poison. I knew what the Kamo clan had done to me. But this is not a burden you should carry. You have suffered enough, and I do not want you to feel guilt for something beyond your control.

And Satoru.

Satoru’s eyes flicked to you briefly before continuing.

I know you’re reading this as well. You won’t listen even if I told you this letter is meant for her alone. Satoru, please do not fight.

But the word “fight” was blotched with ink. A tear had smudged the letters. Satoru’s hand hovered over the page, and you realized with a sinking heart that the tear was his own.

He folded the letter carefully, setting it down on the table. His movements were unnaturally calm, but you knew better. The storm was brewing.

“Satoru,” you said hesitantly. “Please don’t—”

He stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Mother.” His voice was tight, barely restrained. “May I have your permission?”

“Satoru!”

Satoru’s mother regarded him for a long moment. Her gaze flicked to you, then back to her son. Finally, she nodded. “Do what you must. But remember, no harm is to come to the Gojo clan’s reputation.”

He bowed deeply, his fists clenched at his sides. “Thank you.”

“What?” You stood, panic rising. “You can’t just let him go! This isn’t—”

Satoru’s mother silenced you with a look. “He deserves his revenge.”

You stared at her, incredulous. “Revenge won’t bring him back! It won’t fix anything!”

Satoru didn’t wait to hear more. He left the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall. You called after him, your voice breaking, but he didn’t look back. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving you and his mother alone in suffocating silence.

“How can you…?” you began, your voice trembling with anger and disbelief. “How can you let him do this?”

Her expression softened, but her resolve remained. “Because I know my son. And I know he won’t find peace until he has faced this head-on.”

You sank back into your chair, your hands clutching at your chest as though to hold your breaking heart together. The letter lay between you and Lady Gojo, as if to remind you of everything you had both lost and everything that was yet to come.

──── ୨ৎ ────

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lucyrose191 · 11 months ago

Text

BROKEN DECISIONS: HEALING| T.WOLFF

Pairing; Toto Wolff x fem!Schumacher!reader

Summary; You had learned to channel the pain from Toto’s actions into the need to protect and love your child. You were healing but will that be affected by Toto finding out the reason you suddenly disappeared?

Warnings; Age gap mentioned but not specified. Fluff.

Author’s Note; I know I said I’d post a Seb fic before this but this was so much easier to write and I had a lot more motivation for this. Possibly a part 3 if you want.

F1 Master List, Part 1

September 2024

The pain that had consumed you so overwhelmingly all those months ago had seemingly disappeared as you stared down at your daughter who lay in your lap, eyes closed as she slept peacefully, subtle puffs of air released as her chest raised every few seconds.

The thick tufts of bright white hair that sprouted from her head marked that little Alina Elisabeth was most certainly a Schumacher.

Maybe you should feel guilty for the relief that settled in you at the lack of resemblance she shared with her father but the love you felt in your heart as you stared down at the person you cared the most for in this world shrouded any negative emotion you could possibly feel.

The loneliness you had felt was also no longer lingering in your chest, your family had been your rock since the moment you arrived in Switzerland, your mother especially. Mick ensured her was there for you too, even though he was busy with the world endurance racing, he made sure he called frequently and tried to visit when he could.

You sent him a photo of his new niece as soon as you could after giving birth to her and he was already besotted and excited to meet her.

The pain from birthing her had also long been forgotten, unlike the memory of holding her for the first time.

It was hard to describe the rush of emotions that were bursting beneath your skin. You would go to hell and back again if just to experience this for the rest of your life, to continue living in this bubble of warmth and completion.

There was the slightest bit of lingering sadness towards the knowledge that Toto hadn’t been by your side yesterday and witnessing his daughter being brought into the world, maybe it was even unfair that he had been robbed of that opportunity but then you remembered how you had tried to tell him the news of your pregnancy before you left and how he refused to listen.

You weren’t going to beg and plead for him to listen to what you had to say, no matter what there news was.

You had a lot more respect for yourself than that.

It didn’t matter anyways, you didn’t need him and you’d ensure that Alina didn’t need him either. You have full confidence in your ability to raise her alone and give her the best life she could possibly have, a life that would provide her with opportunities others could only imagine having.

November 2024

Alina Elisabeth Schumacher was now two months old and each day it felt as though your love for her multiplied.

Even through the rough patches where you seemed lost in knowing what she needed or what was wrong, it didn’t deter you in the slightest. You had smiled more in the last two months than you had in the last ten years and it felt riveting.

Never would you have thought that a child could fill a gap in your life that you didn’t even know existed but here she is and your heart is full.

Your life felt whole and complete and you owed everything to her, to your little girl who had fixed your healing heart without even trying, just by simply existing.

Today was an important day, Mick was coming home after finishing the world endurance season, which he had performed amazingly in, and it was going to be his first time meeting his niece in person.

You had FaceTimed so much in the last few months, Mick hadn’t wanted to miss any part of his niece growing and so every night at around six he’d ring so that he could say goodnight to her, no matter what time is was where he was at.

Alina loved her uncle already.

It was around 2pm when you heard the front door open followed by the sound of bags dropping to the floor and Mick walking into the kitchen.

You didn’t waste any time in wrapping him into a hug. "Hey, how are you?"

Mick tucked his head into the crook of your neck and tightened his arms around you. "I’m great, it was amazing but how are you, are you okay?" He asked, pulling away and holding onto your shoulders as he looked you up and down.

You smiled at him in pure happiness. "I’m amazing, she’s amazing. Come and see her," you told him and grabbed his hand, pulling him upstairs to your room.

Alina was napping which is all she ever did at her young age but you didn’t care if she woke up because the look of awe on Mick’s face as he set his eyes upon her would make it worth it.

"She’s tiny," he whispered, reaching a finger inside the cot and smiling as she wrapped her fist around it. "She looked so much bigger over the phone, she’s beautiful, Y/N, really." He looked up at you and smiled.

"That’s because she takes after me," you smirked and he rolled his eyes, slowly pulling his hand away before turning to you.

"Do Mum and Gina know?" He asked.

You didn’t need him to emphasise, you both knew what he meant, the unspoken topic that neither of you brought up throughout your entire pregnancy and even after.

"No," you replied honestly, swallowing uncomfortably.

"Y/N-" he sighed.

"Don’t," you cut him off. "He didn’t want to know, Mick. He didn’t care and I’m not going to beg him to."

The sympathetic look he gave you in response to the defeated words you spoke filled you with the need to cry but you didn’t.

You simply stood there for a moment before sighing. "I think I’m going to quit."

Mick gave you a look of horror. "What!?" He whisper shouted. "You can’t, you’ve been with Mercedes for nearly a decade!"

You shrugged. "I don’t want to work for him anymore, not when he is adamant on acting as though he didn’t give me the wrong impression, as though I don’t have his daughter at home who he doesn’t know about because he didn’t care enough for me to tell him."

He didn’t say anything, knowing that your point was completely reasonable. He just hoped this didn’t ruin everything you had worked for.

December 2024

You walked side by side with Mick through the pits of the Yas Marina circuit in Abu Dhabi, drawing quite a bit of attention to yourselves, not only because this is the first glimpse anyone has seen of you all year but because of the three month old you held in your arms.

You walked into the Mercedes garage as though you weren’t about to reveal why you hadn’t participated in this season, pretending you didn’t notice how everyone paused what they were doing to stare as soon as you crossed the threshold.

Their stares burned into your skin but none more than Toto’s, you felt the trail his eyes left across your entire body and the way they settled on the sleeping baby in your arms.

You ignored the burning sensation he was leaving on your skin, instead focusing on the mechanics and other team members that were approaching to speak to you and introduce themselves to Alina.

It was around twenty minutes later before you were left alone, Mick took this opportunity to take Alina to go and show her off to anyone who would give him the time of day, you loved how much of a proud uncle he was.

"Can we talk?" His voice was low and gravelly in your ear as he spoke in a hushed whisper, startling you momentarily.

You scoffed and shook your head. "You weren’t up for talking in January, I’m not up for talking now."

"It’s important," he tried to reason and you laughed.

"What I wanted to say was important but you didn’t care, what was important to me wasn’t important to you. It’s not nice being on the receiving end of that, is it?"

You had hit the nail on the head with that one and by the stunned silence Toto was confined into, he knew that as well.

"Please, I know I don’t deserve it but can you please just come and have a civil conversation with me in my office," he pleaded, knowing that he really had no leg to stand on because he was the one that was completely in the wrong.

You wanted to make a comment about how poetic it was that he wanted to go and talk in his office, just how you did all those months ago and yet you had no luck but you didn’t.

You relented and agreed but that did not mean you were going to be easy on him.

You sighed and stood up from your seat, following him to his office.

You refused to speak first as he shut the door which resulted in a thick, heavy silence for a couple of minutes as you both stood there, Toto staring at you whilst your eyes strained on the ground.

"What happened in Abu Dhabi last year-" he started causing you to look up at him, not expecting him to even bring that up considering how certain he was to avoid it before.

"It wasn’t a mistake, I just- I spent two years fighting my feelings for you because you deserve so much more than I am. The baggage I come with- I’m divorced twice and I have kids and I’m so much older than you and you deserve so much more than to be with a man that comes with all that and can’t give you everything."

You stared at him blankly though you were surprised that he had supposedly felt something for you for an entire year before you noticed anything.

"I never thought of you as anything but my boss and a friend but then last year, the way you looked at me and the way you acted, I thought you liked me and it confused me, my mind was baffled the entire season but no matter what you caused me to feel, I fought against it but then with his forward you were in Abu Dhabi, you made me think you actually wanted me and even if you didn’t then that’s fine but what isn’t fine is leading me on with your stares and your touches and then leaving me alone in a hotel the moment I gave in and even after that when I tried to speak with you, you ignored me and dismissed me. Do you know how used and disgusted I felt?"

You knew the look of guilt on his face wasn’t fake but that didn’t change anything, his guilt was nothing compared to what he had put you through.

"I thought I was doing what was best for you," he replied defeated, knowing how pathetic he sounded and how weak his response was.

"I couldn’t look at myself without feeling the urge to throw up after the way you left me there and it was all down to your insecurities which are ridiculous by the way. I can’t believe you think I’d care about how many times you’ve been married or how many kids you have or how old you are, I only ever wanted someone who loved me and treated me right, you could’ve done that but the man that spoke to me in January, I’ve never seen you like that and that man is not someone I would ever be with."

"You didn’t deserve that," he replied in agreement. "I was overwhelmed by the guilt I felt for leaving you there and trying to ignore my feelings for you which I thought were wrong to be feeling but it is not an excuse for the way I spoke or dismissed you, it was wrong of me. I’m sorry."

"I know," you shrugged. "But I don’t forgive you, not right now at least."

Toto shook his head. "I’ll earn your forgiveness." He said confidently.

"Okay." You whispered.

The air between the two of you shifted as Toto looked at you apprehensively, shifting on his feet. "Your baby-" your heart thumped loudly in your chest. "Is she?" He asked, not needing to continue.

You weren’t going to deny the truth and so you replied honestly. "Yes, it’s what I tried telling you in January."

The look of anguish that appeared on his face was heartbreaking to see because you could tell he truly regretted his actions but it was simply the consequences of his decisions, he was still able to make up for it.

"What did you name her?" He asked quietly.

"Alina Elisabeth Schumacher, Elisabeth after my grandmother."

"You chose well…. Could I meet her?" He asked carefully, not wanting to overstep with you but of course you would allow him to see her, not only because your daughter deserved a chance to have a father but because you knew he was a good father and he would’ve been there had you been given the chance to tell him of her.

"I’ll go and get her." You told him, swiftly walking passed him and out of the door.

It was George that happening to be holding her as you re-entered the garage, the man looking up at you with a pleased smile. "Y/N! I’m happy your back, am I getting my beginner back next year?" He asked as he handed her over to you.

You smiled weakly and shrugged your shoulders. "I��m honestly not too sure yet, George but I’ll let you know."

"No worries," he waved you off. "She’s beautiful by the way."

You thanked him before turning away and heading back to Toto’s office.

Alina was wide awake now and her dark eyes were looking around curiously as you walked through the small corridor.

As soon as Toto’s eyes laid upon her you practically saw how he immediately fell in love with her, his eyes softened as they took in her features, probably trying to find anything that resembled himself.

"I think she has your eyes, but that’s about it," you commented lightly causing him to laugh.

He stepped forward and held his hand out for her, smiling and laughing as she reached out and grabbed his finger before shoving it into her mouth.

He looked at her in awe, as if he couldn’t believe she was a part of him. He reached out with his other hand and tickled her cheek with his finger causing her to gurgle around his hand.

"You can hold her," you told him, lifting her out towards him. He looked at you unsurely but you encouraged him with a nod and that was everything he needed to take her into his arms.

Alina threw away her grip on his hand as he held her and instead pressed both of her hands into his cheeks and pressed her face up against his causing you both to burst out into laughter which resulted in her copying you.

"She’s so small," he muttered almost to himself but you heard him.

"She didn’t feel it when I was pushing her out but she does look it," you joked but also serious, it had hurt like hell.

The mention of her birth spiked a sudden interest. "When was she born?" He asked.

"September 3rd, she was two weeks late, didn’t want to leave I suppose so I had to get induced."

He looked at you worried. "You didn’t do it alone, did you?"

You shook your head, "No, don’t worry, my mum was there with me."

"That’s good," he replied, pulling away from Alina’s grabby hands and instead brought her into a hug, resting the side of his head against hers.

God did he look good holding her.

Alina cooed and babbled as she lied her head on his shoulder and reached her hand up to grab his ear and pull on it.

The immediate connection between the two was impossible to miss and it was sad they had both missed out on this but you refused to let yourself feel guilty about it.

"Thank you for this," Toto’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. "I know I don’t deserve it."

You shook your head. "You deserve a relationship with her, no matter what I wouldn’t have kept her from you."

He smiled and tightened his hold on Alina, still struggling to believe she was really his.

He had four kids. Wow.

He did not want to think about how he was going to explain this one to them.

"We should probably go back out there, there’s still a race that’s about to start." You mentioned, hating to break him out of his bubble but he had priorities.

After much coercing, you managed to get him out of his office but he kept his hold on Alina, he didn’t think the team would suspect anything, they probably just thought he wanted to hold her but even if they did have suspicions, he didn’t care.

Everything felt right as he held her, now he just needed to make it up to you and he would do everything needed for you to forgive him because he wanted this, he wanted you and this family you had created, no matter how long it took.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

People who asked to be tagged or asked for a part 2:

@pear-1206 @luckyladycreator2 @urmotheris @lightdragonrayne @viennakarma @woozarts @carolloliveerr @nuggetvirgo @myescapefromthislife @minkyungseokie @oatmealandsugar @hc-dutch @arieltwvdtohamflash @grayxiu @bigsimperika @emilyval1 @eternalharry @msbyjackal

#formula one x reader #f1 fanfiction #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #fluff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 imagines #f1 fic

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too-deviant · 11 months ago

Text

The incessant ringing of loneliness (or three weeks part two).

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Apollo!Reader

Summary: Luke is back, officially. But you can’t find it in yourself to be happy about it.

Content: angst, loser!luke makes an appearance, a lil fluff, this one is probably happier than part one

Word Count: 4k

Notes: i can’t thank you guys enough for the love on three weeks :( it really means the world, and i hope you enjoy this one too! i don’t think there’s gonna be a part 3 just because i want the rest of luke and r’s story to be up to your own interpretation - especially since his path to healing is such an important factor and it could go in any way. hope that’s ok with you guys :)

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷

You weren’t very popular at camp.

Despite the fact that you’d been there for longer than most of its occupants, and that you’d bandaged up some of their gnarlier injuries, you just didn’t have what it took to have people know your name upon first glance.

Clarisse had her unbridled aggression — she scared people into knowing who she was. Charles Beckendorf was the guy you went to when you broke a sword and didn’t want Chiron finding out about it, plus he was six foot six and kinda hard to miss. The Stoll Twins were behind pretty much every crazy scheme that ended up in Hermes losing desert privileges. Luke was…well, he was Luke. Need I say more?

Point is, while everyone knew everyone, not everyone really knew you. They knew your face, your parentage, and your overall skill set. But they didn’t know your name, or what made you tick.

Which was fine, really. You liked the alone time you got in the infirmary when your sister would run out to gossip with her friends in Aphrodite whenever she saw them walk by. You didn’t mind that, when your cabin got their hour of free time each day, your siblings would rush off to their friends and you would simply settle down with a good book.

It’s not as if you were entirely lonely — you had your fellow Apollo kids. You, Alina and Lee bonded especially, being the older kids of the group. So you had them — the only difference was that they had other people, too.

Which, again, was fine.

Except when you started to take care of Luke, you finally felt like you had a person. You looked forward to seeing him after meals each day, and you found excuses to linger in his room whenever possible. Call it odd, but you grew to enjoy the fact that nobody else knew he was back. Because that way, you had him, he had you, and that was that.

But then Luke got better.

You didn’t even have time to worry about it — one minute you were scarfing down your breakfast, eager to bring that second plate up to the Big House, and ignoring the strange looks your siblings sent you. Then in a split moment, everyone was cheering, people were standing and suddenly you didn’t feel so crowded anymore.

You heard murmurs of excitement, but people were practically standing on the table around you — unhygienic, much? People are eating here — and you couldn’t see what they were looking at. You tugged on your brother’s leg and he glanced down at your raised brow, then he said, “Luke’s back!”

It was like you were sucked back in time. No — it was like you were sitting in a waiting room, shivering from the cold breeze that whisked in through the automatic doors. And then the doors closed, and you could release the tension in your body because the warmth was already reaching your fingers — only for someone to walk past and make the doors open again, sending the sharp sting of the cold right back to where it was before.

Yes. That’s what it was — the warmth Luke’s eyes on you had provided was suddenly ripped completely from you the second your brother's words reached your ears. Replaced with the blistering cold of nobody ever knowing your name.

So it was back to normal for you. The normal you had grown accustomed to — the normal you liked. The normal you thought you liked, anyway.

You didn’t even catch a glimpse of Luke’s face as you stood and left the Pavilion, focusing on the floor beneath your feet rather than the crowd forming around him. Oh, but you couldn’t forget that he was back, it was all anybody could talk about. Once they’d done the math and realised he was the patient you’d been taking care of for three weeks, you locked yourself in your cabin to avoid all the questions, and didn’t see him until the very next day.

The chatter of Luke’s return had died down when you woke up the next morning — a little later than you usually did, Lee having to shake you so you wouldn’t miss breakfast. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and pulled a clean camp shirt over your head, stumbling a little due to the fact that you hadn’t fully woken up yet.

When you were ready, Lee was waiting by the door. A few of your siblings were still getting themselves into a line after his loud Fall in! had woken them up, so you had time to stretch your arms and let out a sigh once you had taken your place beside him. You and Alina always walked with him to mealtimes, even though neither of you were counsellors, and you greeted her with a smile.

The air was stuffy again — so much so that even Lee let out a wince when the shining glow of the front door hit his eyes. Then he stepped out of the cabin — his usual routine of checking the garden and cabin for pranks before letting them out coming into play. But he stopped.

“What?”

He swung his head back at you, brows raised and smile growing, “Luke’s back.”

Out of instinct, you rolled your eyes, “Pretty sure we all know that, already.”

“Yeah, but —“ He turned fully then, hands on the doorframe and grin shining, “He’s back, which means the Hermes kids are finally under control again, which means we don’t have to worry about being pranked first thing in the morning!”

“Holy crap.” Alina was grinning now, both of your siblings looking at you and each-other with this excited expression that made you sort of angry – why are they perceiving Luke? They’re not allowed.

You huffed a sigh as Lee started to lead the line outside, “He got back yesterday, there’s no way he’s already –”

But he was. As you stepped into the sun, the skin on your thighs already forming an uncomfortable layer of sweat, you looked to where the Hermes cabin was filing out of their door, led by the one and only Luke Castellan. You paused.

He’d been back a day. Sure, his scar had healed nicely, but it was only three days ago that he was struggling to hold his own in a sword fight – if he was back to his counsellor duties, was he going back to teaching sword fighting? You were unsure he should even be in charge of all those Hermes and unclaimed kids so soon, but going back to teaching only days after coming back to camp? There was no way he was ready for that.

Should you say something? Or would he dismiss you, now that he was done with you?

You watched as he walked with Chris, chatting idly as if nothing was wrong. But you saw Chris glance occasionally at the jagged line through his brother’s eye, and you saw Luke attempt to ignore it.

Should you say something?

You tripped. You were so busy staring creepily at Luke that you tripped over your own feet and tumbled into Lee’s back. He stumbled slightly but righted himself with a huff and a chuckle, turning and asking if you were alright.

But you had looked straight back in Luke’s direction – he was still talking to Chris. He wasn’t looking at you.

He wasn’t your person anymore.

Luke was unsure.

Which didn’t happen often — as one of the oldest campers, and the one everyone else looked to in times of peril, it was sort of essential for him to be sure. He needed to know what to do, to have a solution for every situation, and to be completely calm about it. Otherwise, camp would go to shit.

That much was obvious — he didn’t know why you hadn’t told him this in the three weeks you spent together, but camp had turned itself upside down in his absence. Apparently nobody was prepared for him to be gone for so long, and they kind of all lost their shit.

He was happy to be back, don’t get him wrong. He lit up when he saw his brother’s faces again, when he felt their arms wrap around him. He laughed when Travis joked about thinking he was dead, and when Connor quipped that the camp was seconds away from starting a revolution. He nodded at Chiron, smiled amusedly when Mr D rolled his eyes, he scooped Annabeth into his arms, whispered to her that yes, he was alive, and he let himself be whisked to his table, the crowd following like moths to a flame.

It was slightly overwhelming, but he was well-equipped to deal with it. He liked the feeling — if he ignored the throbbing on the side of his face, it could be like he’d never even left. The quest never happened, the dragon never happened, and people are just happy to see him because he’s their counsellor. Of course they would be. Everything was fine.

Everything was fine — so he ignored the urge to scan his eyes across the crowd in search of a familiar head of hair. He stopped himself from glancing at the Apollo table, from looking in Lee’s direction, just in case he wasn’t standing alone.

Because he didn’t need you anymore. Not that he didn’t appreciate all you did for him, but the healing was done. He was better, he was back at camp — he was Luke Castellan again. If he looked for you, if he met those eyes and returned that smile, it would be admitting defeat. Admitting that he wasn’t better, that he still needed his doctor.

But he didn’t. Because he was back, baby! And he didn’t need to think about that stupid quest, his stupid dad, or his stupid scar ever again.

He had a short chat with Chiron, who looked a little uneasy when he expressed his readiness to get back to camp duties. He told him that it was fine if he needed time to settle in, but Luke was firm. He didn’t need to settle, he didn’t need to wait. So Chiron sighed, and told him to escort his cabin to the climbing walls for their morning session.

And that’s how the rest of the day went — climbing wall, arts and crafts cabin, strawberry fields, archery practice. Luke did it all, just like he used to before he left. If people would just stop looking at his damn scar, maybe he could pretend he never left at all. If they stopped murmuring about him being the secret camper, hidden from them this whole time, he could avoid thinking about you and the sweet touch of your fingers on his face.

The fact that he hadn’t seen you at all since his return helped him on that front — you weren’t around at breakfast, lunch or dinner. You weren’t in the infirmary whenever he peeked through the windows. You weren’t with the rest of your cabin when they were paired with Hermes for hand-to-hand defence practice.

Not that he was looking for you, or anything.

“Hey, man.” Chris clapped him on the shoulder as they walked up to breakfast. It had officially been twenty-four hours since Luke’s return, and the chatter had died down significantly. That was good for him, helped him ignore the fact that he was ever not there.

All he had to do was keep his eyes off you — who had magically reappeared in camp — as you also walked up to breakfast, the Apollo kids trailing behind you, Lee and Alina.

“Listen, you did great yesterday.” His brother was saying, and he zoned in on it. “It was like you never left.”

Cool, that was the plan.

“But it’s sword fighting today.”

Luke raised a brow, “So?”

“So…” Chris sang, awkwardly waving a hand, “You don’t have to jump right back into training us, is what I’m saying.”

He scoffed, running a hand through us curls, “Nah, bro, I’m good.”

“Are you sure? Because —“

“Y’know, Chris,” Luke sent his brother a cheeky look as they took their seats around the Hermes table, “if you’re scared to get back to my gruelling training sessions, just say that.”

Chris’ face fell, appalled, and he put a hand on his chest, “Scared? Dude, you’re the one who should be scared. I’ve gotten good since you’ve been gone.”

And there it was — a reminder that it wasn’t the same. That he couldn’t pretend he had never left, because nobody else was. Whatever, it’d be fine. A couple of weeks and this would all blow over and he would never have to think about it again.

The Amphitheatre, unlike the rest of the camp amenities, was familiar to him. He didn’t need to stand and take it all in like he did with everywhere else, because he’d been here not even a week ago with —

No. Stop. You aren’t in his life anymore. He never went on his quest. Everything is how it should be.

The kids gathered around him were letting off a range of emotions as Luke stood before them, sword in hand. The younger ones were giddy, eager to get back to training with their favourite teacher. Some of the older ones, however, were only slightly confused that he’d bounced back so quickly. If he had to spend three weeks in the Big House before even going outside, was he ready to jump right back into sword training? Maybe he’d go easier on them today, take it slow.

“Alright — if there’s anything I've learnt over the years, it’s that sword fighting is all about reflexes. So, today, we will be working on y’all’s dodging skills. Oliver, get up here!”

Luke was back on Mount Tamalpais. The fiery breath Ladon was shooting at him seared his skin and burnt holes into his shirt. He was ducking out of the way, but there was no room to breathe when another one of his hundred heads came at him with a fierce snarl. His sword felt useless in his hands, every swing being deflected and every jab proving useless compared to the dragon's swift movements.

He blinked, and he was back at camp. Sparring with an unclaimed kid who’s name was lost on him. Sweat dripped down his brows but he wiped it away with shaky fingers. He gave an off-handed comment on the kids form before calling a water break.

“Yo— woah, man!”

Chris looked wide-eyed at Luke. He had tapped him gently on the shoulder and he had responded with an aggressive swing towards him. He stepped out of the arc just in time, but Luke still dropped the sword like it had burnt him. He stepped back, hands shaking, and stared at the ground.

It was odd — being at Archery in the mornings. You’d spent three weeks skipping the hour in favour of taking food to Luke and ensuring his dressings were changed. Which for most cabins, was what? Three classes a week?

Not for the Apollo kids — who have always and will always have their first hour spent on the Archery fields. Mainly because it’s when the sun is rising, shining on them in the early mornings and giving them their power to hit the bullseye. You included, even if healing was more your purview.

So you’d missed probably around twenty classes, give or take a few. Your form was, well, subpar at best. Lee had to spend the entire hour making sure you didn’t accidentally hit one of your siblings — and that was after he had to re-teach you the basics.

You probably would’ve been better had you not been so distracted — your mind whirring with thoughts of Luke. You wished your brain would just leave it alone, but apparently you weren’t done mulling over the situation. You wanted to slap yourself across the face and say hey, idiot. The three weeks is up, he’s healed. It’s over. But your siblings would probably look at you weird, so you decided against it.

Instead, you threw yourself into your duties. Archery was a bump in the road, but now you were smooth sailing. You didn’t focus on anything else but what you had to do that day — not taking a moment to breathe because if you did that, you’d start thinking about Castellan again. You didn’t want that, you really didn’t want that.

It was going really well, too. But then Chiron just had to interrupt your canoeing session, asking you to clear out any medical supplies you left over in the spare room of the Big House since nobody was staying there anymore.

Oh, great. You were thinking about him again.

And then all the thoughts you’d been suppressing since ten in the morning were overflowing your head, and you thought you might have had to ask Mr D if you were going mad because when you cracked open the door and peeked your head in, Luke was sitting on the edge of the bed like usual and you had to blink to make the hallucination go away.

Except it didn’t go away. Instead it looked at you and smiled, “Hi.”

Your lips parted, and you stepped in. Your eyebrows curved in on themselves, “Uh, hey. What are you…”

You were still about seventy percent sure that he wasn’t real, but nobody was there to listen to you talk to air, so you replied anyway. Luke clicked his tongue, let out a chuckle, then sighed, “I don’t think I can do it.”

Okay, fifty percent sure.

“Do what?”

“Go back out there.” He gestured a hand to the window that pointed outside, although it was still covered with the curtain. “I thought…I dunno, I guess I got too excited yesterday. Thought I was ready to jump back into it.”

You stepped fully through the threshold, and he followed you with his eyes as you walked over to the desk. Nothing but a few spare bandages that you scooped into your arms before looking back at him. You tilted your head, “Healing isn’t linear. It’s perfectly normal to feel like you’re on top of the world one day and then like it’s crumbling around you the next.”

He stood, walked over to you. Thirty percent.

“I don’t want to disappoint them.”

“You won't.” You shook your head, “You made a big step, coming back to camp. That's it for now, you don’t need to take any more big steps for a while.”

He nodded, “No more big steps.”

“Not until you’re ready.”

Luke’s hands reached out, taking the bandages from where you cradled them to your chest. He put them back onto the desk behind you. Ten percent.

His eyes bore into yours, “I don’t think I’m done healing.”

You shook your head surely, “I don’t think you are, either. And that’s okay.”

He nodded, lips clicking when he parted them, “Which means you’re not allowed to leave me yet. You have to stay with me until I’m fully better.”

You shook your head then, stammering, “It’s — that’s not how it works. What you went through, it — you might not ever be fully better.”

But Luke just nodded like he knew that already, taking a step closer, “I think I’m okay with that.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what else to say. What the hell do you say to that? “Okay.”

He nodded, pressing his lips together, “So you’re not gonna leave me.”

Five percent.

A shake of your head, “Not until you ask me to.”

“Good.”

He wrapped his arms around you, and you froze. Okay, he was real. He was really there. You were sure. You hugged him back — he buried his face into your neck and whispered something about you never leaving him again and you whispered something in return about how you wouldn’t dream of it.

So, apparently, you severely underestimated what it was like to be friends with Luke.

You’d thought about it — of course you had. You would imagine what perfect golden boy Luke Castellan was like when he didn’t have to be a perfect golden boy. When he could just be a boy, hanging out with his friends like a normal person would. What jokes did he tell? Did he still keep up that Luke Castellan Grin or did he relax into an easy smirk? Did he make his friends follow the rules even when they were alone? Did he follow the rules when he was alone?

You wondered, although you never thought you’d actually find out. But he’d made it clear you were never leaving his side so long as he still needed you — and he was sticking to that. Firmly.

The summer sun was hot on your back — only this time your dad seemed to be going easy on you, as you weren’t completely uncomfortable under the warm cotton of your camp shirt. You still wafted it every now and then, proving some cool air to your chest, but overall you were feeling good.

You walked into the Amphitheatre with the rest of your siblings — who were less than amused that, despite Luke’s return to camp, Tyler P from the Hephaestus cabin was still running sword fighting practice. They heaved themselves onto the tiered seats with dramatic groans, but he simply grinned at them.

You paused from where you were about to sit down next to Alina when a waving hand caught your peripheral. It was Luke, tucked into the very top corner of the steps, smiling at you from the shadows.

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked when you reached him, raising your brow in amusement. He patted the spot next to him and you sat down, just as Tyler began to talk. Luke leaned in.

“I’m watching.” He muttered into your ear, then he smirked at you, “You can’t stop me from doing that.”

“I wasn’t going to.” You murmured, leaning back on your elbows and watching as your siblings paired up reluctantly. “Thanks for pulling me away, though. Gives me an excuse not to take part.”

Luke huffed a laugh, “He can’t be that bad, right?”

“Just you wait.” You smirked.

Turns out, Tyler was that bad. Every ‘new skill’ he tried to teach them either (a) they already knew, something Luke liked to whisper at you with a shake of his head, or (b) he couldn’t even do it himself, let alone teach others how to. Another thing Luke commented on from where he sat beside you, hands aching to get in there and show him what was what.

“Just one tip, and then I’ll go.” He begged under his breath as Tyler dropped his sword for the umpteenth time. “Please.”

“No.” You didn’t even look at him, “Because one tip turns into a demonstration. And a —“

“— a demonstration turns into a class, yeah yeah.” He rolled his eyes, but you just grinned at him. He smiled, “You’re mean.”

“I know.” You said in a faux-sympathetic tone. You pouted at him, “I’m just so cruel, aren’t I?”

His eyes narrowed, and his mouth stretched into a disbelieving grin, “Damn, doc. What happened to you?”

You scoffed amusedly, “You did.”

His mouth dropped open and you smiled, looking away. He poked your side and you shuffled away with a giggle, attempting to ignore his riled up smile. He didn’t relent, for every inch you moved away from him, he scooted right back towards you. You looked at him with a narrowed gaze, “I miss when you were too miserable to talk to me.”

“No you don’t.” He shook his head. He was right, you didn’t.

He let out a slow breath through his nose, and you felt it on your face. That was when you realised how close your faces were — mere centimetres apart. You swallowed thickly, but you didn’t move away. Luke’s smile stretched, and his hand began to inch up your arm.

You squinted, “What are you doing?”

It was his turn to feign confusion, pulling his lips into the same pout you did only moments earlier, “What are you talking about?”

His hand was at your elbow now, sliding higher. You shook your head, a minute movement, “Doctor Patient Fraternising isn’t allowed.”

He gasped, pulling his hand back in favour of placing it dramatically against his chest, “It’s not?”

“Nope.” You grinned amusedly, “Sorry.”

“Damn.” He leaned back, glancing at you for a second before looking back towards Tyler’s shitshow of a sword lesson, “Guess I’ll have to get another doctor.”

You snorted, “You’re a loser.”

You stood up and went to rejoin your siblings, and Luke shouted after you, “I’m your loser!”

“What was that?” Lee asked when you stopped beside him.

“What? Oh,” You glanced back at where Luke was sat, and he averted his gaze from where he had been looking at you. You looked up at your brother, “He’s just happy to be back, is all.”

He chuckled, “Sure.”

Whatever. He was your person again and Lee could suck your dick if he had anything to say about it.

🏷️ @aceofswordsandarrows @cowsandcomics @number-onekidqueen @kestisvrse @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons @how2besalty @iinlovewithfictionalppl @lilacspider @l0ve-dov3 @coffi-cake @ironmanbaldes @onecojg @hiraethavis @freaking0utficrecs @delphifarms @wildlyfreemoon @candylandy8173 @sinnercry @featherofthecrow @babellucci @telliette @totallynotnic

#i hate this #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan is a loser and i love him #percy jackson #luke castellan x you #pjo

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beomcoups · 8 months ago

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F.U.C.K.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ex!bf Seungcheol x fem!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, smut, small fluff, lovers to exes au, 18+

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.1k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You've been on and off forever and you couldn't leave him alone if you tried. You have an itch only Seungcheol can scratch.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, oral, missionary, riding, praise, dirty talk, creampie, clit stim, multiple orgasms, a bit of overstimulation, Coups is a lover boi, angsty feelings about the relationship

𝐀𝐍: Thank youuuuu @hobeemin & @wongyuseokie for reading this for me and Beezy you are the best hype woman ever <3. Also thank you @aaagustd for making this sexy ass banner 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: 💿 F.U.C.K- Victoria Monet, Dirty Dancer- Orion Sun, Idea 686- Jayla Darden, Strings- iyla, Behind- Woodz, Forgive Me- Chloe x Halle, Art- Tyla, I Could Imagine- Alina Baraz, Good& Plenty- Alex Isley, Masego and Jack Dine, Skin Tight- Ravyn Lenae Steve Lacy, Idea 683- Jayla Darden, Body and Soul- Emotional Oranges and Biig Piig, Butterflies- Tyla, Between Us- Alina Baraz, Nasty- Tinashe, Under The Moon - Alex Isley, Jack Dine (spotify)

It’s complicated. Your Facebook relationship status has been that way for over a year. If someone asked, you wouldn’t know how to define your relationship with Seungcheol. You can’t say you’re just friends when the love is still there, but you can’t stay together longer to just work. Something happens, and you argue and split up. Months, sometimes years, can go by, and you feel like you’ve finally moved on, but all he has to do is call, or you have an itch that needs scratching, and there he is, ready to make it go away.

He stands there in front of you, his dark hair clipped and trimmed perfectly, highlighting the handsome features on his face: his dark, round eyes, high cheekbones, and plump pink lips. He comes dressed in a simple white tee and sweats, with an overnight bag in hand, as he knows he is staying the night. Seungcheol smirked as he walked in, placing a small kiss on your temple.

“Well, hello to you too,” you say, shutting the door behind you. You watch him take off his shoes, walk into your living room, and admire the view of the city through your picture windows. You just moved into your high-rise condo a couple of months ago, and your job promotion allows you to level up in life and enjoy nice things for once. Your place looks straight out of a movie, with your tastes added. Your favorite color is blue, and you included it in your decor.

“You kept the couch?” Seungcheol points at the royal blue sectional sofa with matching gold-trimmed throw pillows you bought from your favorite thrift store. “Yes,” you say proudly. “That couch is my pride and joy. We’ve been through a lot together.” Memories about the many times you spent together on the couch, clothed and unclothed, cloud your mind. He chuckles as you sashay to the kitchen, grabbing a bottled water. You offer him one, and he shakes his head, returning his attention to the city's shining lights. He’s been in your life for five years, meeting at a grocery store with both of your hands on the last bag of cherries. He relented, letting you have them in exchange for your number. You didn’t give it to him, hoping that you would see him again. At the time, you just moved to the city, and if you were meant to meet again, you would give him your number. A couple of weeks later, you did when you went to a birthday dinner with your former roommate. His eyes twinkled when you exchanged glances, and you felt like it was fate. “You did it,” he felicitates you. “You did everything we talked about doing all those years ago. I’m proud of you.”

You would have late nights with him in your shitty old apartment, eating Chinese takeout in bed and talking about your hopes for the future. Seungcheol wanted to have it all: a nice house, cars, and riches beyond his dreams. All you wanted was a good life. You grew up poor, raised by a single mom who worked two jobs to ensure you had a roof over your head. You understood each other in that way, and it worked between you two for a while… until it didn’t.

“You got your high rise before me,” you appear beside him. “What does it feel like, being the top broker in your firm?”

“It’s nice,” he nods. “It keeps me busy.”

You knew that all too well. One of the reasons you broke up was time. His work felt more important than maintaining a relationship with you. You swear if someone called in the middle of the night, he would answer in a heartbeat. It’s not like you aren’t busy; you work on Wall Street. But you still made time to be with him at all important events and when it mattered most. The energy wasn’t reciprocated.

“I see nothing has changed,” you say, taking a swig of your water.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I think I am ready for it, though.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah. There is no point in having all of this if there is no one to share it with, right?”

You didn’t have to say anything back because he was right. What is the point of working hard, making more money than your parents could ever dream of, traveling, and having life experiences without having someone to share them with? It also incredibly frustrates you. Why did it take five years for him to get to this point? The back and forth, blocking each other on all accounts. Was it worth it?

You two are silent, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance. His fingers slip in between yours, pulling you closer to him. Just being near him makes your heart skip several beats. No one like him can melt you just by his touch and presence. Yes, he can irritate you to no end, but he also makes your soul smile.

“I missed you,” he says, gazing at you.

“I know.”

You kiss him, the magic stirring in your chest as he returns your feelings; sparks all around you two like fireworks. Your hands explore him fervently, pulling off his shirt and throwing it on your couch. He unhooks your bra, helping you out of your shirt and exposing your breasts. He bites his lip as he palms his growing bulge, the very thought of his lips all over you making you hot.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers.

You take his hand and guide him to your bedroom, climbing over your king-size bed. He follows you closely, his index finger sliding up your thigh. It feels electric, having him touch you again after so long. You have tried moving on, going on dates, and having one-night stands here and there. But deep down, those people weren’t him. Seungcheol knows your body, what makes you tick, your boundaries, and what drives you crazy. It’s exhausting trying to find that chemistry with someone else. Too bad you can’t just make it work.

He slides your shorts and panties off with one hand, your naked body being illuminated by the moonlight. He notices your sheets, trying to hold it in before succumbing to a belly laugh.

“Cherry sheets? Really?” He says in between breathes.

“Come on now,” you chuckle. “You know I love my little house on the prairie sheets.” “I swear you were born in the wrong generation,” Seungcheol expresses, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Yeah, maybe,” you muse over his words. “I’m glad I met you in this lifetime, though.” He admires you, his thumb caressing your cheek before he kisses you again. This time, it’s more heartfelt, your bodies hungry for another as each minute passes. His hand travels down to your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart and slowly entering a digit into your wet core. Seungcheol licks his lips, watching your eyes roll back as you unravel his arms. “Shit,” you moan. “Keep doing it just like that.”

“I’m going to do more than that,” he whispers in your ear.

Seungcheol was already great with his fingers, slipping one more in you as his tongue played in circles on your neck, your sweet-smelling perfume intoxicating to him. He loves the way your brows furrow when he goes deep, your mind focused on nothing else but cumming all over his hand. You play with your clit, drunk on the pleasure he’s giving you, with your wetness pooling onto your sheets. You two are connected in a way, in your own little bubble surrounded by ecstasy.

“Fuck baby,” you pant as pressure builds up in your stomach. “I’m almost there.” He pulls his fingers out of you quickly, snapping you out of your zone, and you whimper in protest. He aggressively pulls down his pants and briefs, revealing his hardened cock already leaking with precum. He slides down to your entrance, his face nose deep in between your legs before he dives in; his tongue attacks your sweet nectar. Sensational couldn't even begin to describe how you feel. He eats you with an enthusiasm that almost makes you laugh despite the deep pleasure he brings you. “You taste better than I remembered,” he mouths. “Cum for me.”

Your body is at its brink, ready to fall, when Seungcheol slips his fingers in, working together with his tongue to make sure you hit that pool of ecstasy. Your hands grip his hair, and your orgasm hits you like cool water on a warm day. You feel him smirk against your thigh, leaving you with lasting, small kisses before lifting his face and revealing your essence on the lower half. You cover your mouth to hold back your giggles, and he rolls his eyes, leaning over and kissing your lips. “I’m not sorry,” you breathe. “You knew what you were doing.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he smirks. “Especially when I’m going to make you do it again.”

Seungcheol lifts your leg, pulling himself back as he rubs his throbbing dick against your entrance. Your eyes grow wide as he taps your sensitive, swollen clit, a mischievous grin on his face.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says as if reading your thoughts. “I’m going to start slow.” “You don’t want me to blo—” you start to protest. “No, I’ve waited long enough,” his deep and velvety voice serves as a warning. FUCK.

He enters you inch by inch, stretching you out the way you like, your fingers already gripping the sheets. You look at him through a hazy daze, his focus on burying himself deep inside of you, bringing you a deep satisfaction. You enjoy watching his Adam’s apple shift when he moans, his voice barely audible while he dives into you. You remember the first time you slept together; he had your legs over his shoulder, fucking you long and deep on top of your blue couch at your old place. You both didn’t intend for it to happen that way; you were caught up in the highs of seeing a band you both enjoy, and one thing led to another. His dick is long with a bit of a curve, fitting perfectly like your pussy was molded and made for him. No one has even come close.

“Give it to me,” you breathe. “Please, I need you bad.” Seungcheol loves it when you beg for it, and he obliges, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. Maybe it’s because you love him, but he is the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. The way his hips roll as he snaps into you, watching him come in and out of you with your wetness coating him, turns you on. Your hands grasp his face, your thumb slipping into his mouth as he fucks you silly. You can barely form words in your head, let alone say anything else but “fuck” and “make me cum”. He fucks you in a way that makes you have wet dreams and leaves you with a puddle in your sheets. If he were a Greek god, he would be Eros, the god of love and sex. That’s how bad he has you. “Turn over,” you grit your teeth. You lean up and flip him over, his throbbing cock still inside you as you are on top of him. You let your body take over, riding him while his hands are placed firmly on your breasts. You set the pace, and he follows, a harmonious rhythm between the two of you, your senses heightened to another level. You are on this incredible high, sliding on his shaft while you vigorously play with your clit, ready to cum. “Did you miss this? He teases you as he grinds harder into you. “Did you miss sitting on this dick until you cum?” You nod fervently, your hand still playing with your clit, and you are ready to explode.

“Fuck,” he grits his teeth. “I’m close. Let’s come together like we always do.” You erupt, screaming his name while he sloppily pumps into you, his hair sweaty and his succulent lips red from biting. He leans up and kisses you hard, your moans and words of praise swallowed and digested. Whatever you were going to say, he felt it more, your hearts beating in unison powered by your feelings for each other. He talks you through it, helping you come down from your high before he releases his own, spilling into you until he is completely spent. You’ve been on birth control for years, and Seungcheol is the only person you’ve let hit without a condom. It just feels so right with him. You roll off of him, collapsing on your pillow as you try and catch your breath. His breathing is relaxed, and when you gaze at him, his eyes are closed, already half asleep. You attempt to get out of bed, but he grabs your arm, pulling you close to him.

“Stay,” he kisses your shoulder. “I sleep better when you’re with me.”

You can’t deny him when he is in this state, pulling on your heartstrings like that.

“Fine, you win,” you say without much effort.

Glancing at the time, it’s after 12, and fatigue finally hits you at least. Snuggling into him, you fall into a deep sleep, but not before admitting that you still love him and would do anything for him.

The sunlight is not kind as it peers through your windows and wakes you up a little after 9. You had forgotten to draw the curtains before you fell asleep, but you didn’t have much energy left after the night you had. You woke him up after three, sucking his cock until he exploded down your throat, and he returned the favor by eating you out until you were ripe from overstimulation. You made such a mess that you had to change your sheets and listen to him teasing you about your “old lady” sheets. Whatever, you liked them.

You rolled over, and Seungcheol was already awake, scrolling through his phone. He notices you and kisses your forehead before removing your blanket and smacking your ass.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he says, leaning back against the headboard.

You chuckle as you get out of bed, grab your silk robe, and walk into the bathroom. You feel sore; last night’s shenanigans are indeed catching up with you. You just want to lay in bed and relax, but you have this nagging feeling in your stomach. You could brush it off and deal with it later, but knowing you, you will overthink, turning it into something it's not. You have to know how he feels.

Finishing up in the bathroom, you leave to find him setting orange juice on your nightstand with a couple of ibuprofen. He is only dressed in his sweats and nothing underneath, your center aching for him despite the tenderness you feel.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, reading your look. You have never had a good poker face.

You sit down on the bed, take your two pills, and wash them down with orange juice. You allow yourself to get your thoughts in order. You're unsure what to say, but you know the conversation needs to be had.

“What are we doing?” you blurt out. “I love you, and you never stopped loving me. Why can’t we just get it right?”

The silence is too deafening for your liking. It would be like you to tear the band-aid off first thing in the morning. But you hate being in the dark, not knowing what the future will hold. You’re not saying that you have to jump the broom, but you have to know if there’s any chance he feels the same way you do.

“I-I-m sorry,” you shake your head. “I shouldn’t have sprung that on you first thing in the morning. Forget I said anything.”

You attempt to leave the room before Seungcheol catches your arm and motions for you to sit down. Grudgingly, you do, sitting on your ottoman and facing him. “You didn’t even give me a chance to respond,” he complains. “You can’t always assume how I feel is something bad. Give me a chance.” You nod, knowing deep down he is right. “You are right,” He admits. “I love you, and this song and dance we’ve been doing for years is tired. I came to you last night because I missed you and I need you. You’re the only one in my life who has always kept it straight with me, even when you get on my nerves.” You smirk at his comment, knowing it’s true. “But we have also been apart for a long time, and as much as I want to jump back into our usual routine, I recognize we have grown up a bit and need to get to know each other as our different selves.” You nod slowly, mulling over his words, unsure what to say. “I also don’t want to see anyone else,” he breathes. “You are the only person I want to see, to do this with.” He points at the sheets, and you roll your eyes. It would be like him to somehow bridge it back to sex.

“So…” your voice trails off. “What are we then? We are more than friends but not together? I don’t understand.” “I want to be with you,” he grabs your hands. “If we fight and storm off to our houses, I’d rather it be that then we break up and don’t talk for months at a time. I hate that.” You nod, finally understanding what he is saying. He is scared of the future, just like you are. But in this life, you would rather go through it with him than anyone else. You have too much time and feelings just to throw it away. “Maybe we can try talking to someone about it this time around?” You say. “A therapist or something? I want to be with you, and maybe working through our issues to understand each other better sometimes is what we need.” “Yeah, I’m open to that.” He hugs you, embracing you tightly before leaving sweet kisses on your face. You are deathly ticklish, and he knows it. He moves his kisses elsewhere until you find yourself in your bed, his body towering over yours. He leaves you one more kiss on your lips before laying his head on your chest. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispers.

You look down and smile, caressing the dark stresses in his hair.

“Yeah. We will be.”

#kvanity #kwritersworldnet #svthub #svt fanfic #svt oneshot #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt smut #svt angst #svt fluff #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #svt ff #scoups ff #seventeen smut #ksmutsociety

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atlabeth · 8 months ago

Text

mine forever

request from @nghtwngs

pairing: nikolai lantsov x fem!tidemaker reader

a/n: SO sorry for posting this early and having to delete 💀 i was formatting and didnt realize i was not saving it as a draft lmao. but thank you for sending this in love!!! and PLEASEE send in as much nikolai as you want i miss writing for him so much

wc: 1.4k

warning(s): hurt/comfort. reader is insecure, nikolai is the sweetest as usual

join in on my 3k celebration!!

“You’re avoiding me.”

Your eyes didn’t move away from the horizon when you heard Nikolai’s voice, though you felt your muscles tense.

“Clearly not well enough,” you remarked. “Seeing as you found me.”

“You know I’ll always find you,” Nikolai murmured. “But that means little if you will not talk to me.”

Of course you were not talking to him. You did not know how to talk to him—not when you so clearly didn’t understand the issue plaguing you.

All you’d ever known was the life of a Grisha. You were tested when you were young, revealed to be a Tidemaker, and whisked away to the Little Palace, where you’d been honing your abilities ever since. You rebelled against the one thing you knew, joined the side of the Sun Summoner, and now you were in the midst of a war for the very survival of your people.

There were so few Tidemakers left after the Darkling’s massacre, which meant Alina and Nikolai were counting on you more than ever in their fight to reclaim Ravka.

But when you needed your powers most, they disappeared.

You— you just didn’t understand, because it didn’t make sense. You’d spent years studying the Small Science and how to wield it, how to manipulate the water around you no matter how miniscule.

This was not merzost. You had never tampered with the way of the world, never attempted to bastardize the abilities you’d been granted.

Like called to like. There was a part of you that connected to the water, that allowed you the affinity for all of this.

You had just… lost it. For no apparent reason.

“There is nothing to talk about,” you stated simply. The cold of the railing shocked your fingers as you set your hand down, but you welcomed any sort of feeling.

“Do not be ridiculous,” Nikolai said wryly. He came out onto the balcony and stopped beside you. You could see him looking at you through your peripherals, could feel his intent gaze. “Nobody avoids me unless they have a reason.”

You huffed a bitter laugh. “I certainly have a reason, moi tsarevich.”

“So we’ve gone back to titles?” Nikolai’s lips quirked up. “Shall I start referring to you as Grisha? Tidemaker, even?”

You scoffed. “That would be inaccurate.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “We’ve reached the root of the problem.”

“We hardly did anything,” you said. “Do you talk just to hear the sound of your own voice?”

“I do, as a matter of fact,” Nikolai said. “But you should know your scornful words have no effect when I’m aware of your true feelings.”

“If you are aware of my true feelings, you should know I would like to be left alone.”

“You want to be left alone because you feel useless without your power,” he said. “Any man worth their salt would not fall to that, and fortunately, I’m worth quite a lot.”

You finally turned to look at Nikolai, though you could not muster the full force of your anger when you did. He had that slight smile still, the glint in his eyes, and all you could think was that you didn't even deserve this kindness.

“Because I am,” you said.

He shook his head. “You are not. Far from useless, actually.”

“You served in the First Army, didn’t you?”

“I hardly see how that’s relevant—”

“Just answer my question.”

“...Yes,” he said. “I was infantry. The 22nd Regiment.”

“And if you had lost the ability to shoot a gun, would you be allowed to stay on the front lines?”

Nikolai shook his head. “I will not participate in hypotheticals to help you feel worse.”

“Because you know it’s true.” You looked back out at the horizon—the sun was steadily setting. “I have no place here anymore.”

He said your name with a slight huff. “That is not true.”

“I’m not Grisha anymore!” you exclaimed as you whirled back to face him. “The only reason I have ever gotten anywhere— the only reason I am here, the only reason I ever met you in the first place— it is all because of my power.” You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself in the wake of a cold wind. The material was noticeably thinner than your kefta, but you could not bring yourself to wear it anymore. “I’m useless now. To— to Ravka, to the Second Army— to you.”

His brows furrowed. “You are not useless to Ravka— and you could never be useless to me.” You averted your eyes, unable to meet the full weight of his softened gaze, and his frown deepened. “That’s what this is about then?

“Don’t act like it’s so ridiculous,” you muttered.

Nikolai had the nerve to laugh, and you glared at him. He held up his hands in defense, but he could not fully bite back his smile.

“I apologize, lapushka, but I did not even consider that as an option for why you were so upset.”

Nikolai took your hands in his, hands that had been the key to your power the entire life, that were failing you, and he held them like nothing else in the world mattered. “Do you know how absurd the thought of me not loving you is?”

You glanced away, but Nikolai gently cupped your chin with a few fingers and tilted you back to meet his eyes.

“Because it is,” he continued, letting his hand fall back down to grasp yours. “I love you with everything in me. I love you because you are you—not because of your powers. Not because you are Grisha.”

“Who am I if I am not Grisha?” Your voice came out as little more than a whisper, near a desperate plea. You’d never felt weaker, never felt smaller. The only thing you’d known all your life had been ripped away from you, and you felt as if you’d been shoved into an endless void.

Nikolai said your name softly as he squeezed your hands. “You are a soldier of great renown. A revolutionary on the right side of history. The most loyal friend someone can have. And lest you somehow manage to forget it, you are the woman I love.”

“You deserve better than—” you swallowed the lump in your throat. “—than some broken, failed Grisha.”

“You are not broken,” Nikolai murmured, and he never looked away from your eyes as he lifted your hand to press a kiss to the back of it. “We are merely on… a different path.”

“A different path,” you repeated, and you could not help your wry laugh.

“Yes,” he nodded. “And we will go down every step of it together. Do you understand that?”

Nikolai fought for everything he had, despite his standing as a Lantsov. He was a soldier on the front lines, he rose through the ranks on the sea under a pseudonym, and now he was clawing his way through useless formalities in order to take back the throne that he deserved.

And here you were—someone who was given everything because of some power inside you. And now you didn’t even have that.

It just did not seem right. It did not make sense. For a man as powerful as Nikolai to stick by your side despite such a misgiving.

“If you don’t, that is alright.” Nikolai shrugged. “I will just have to spend extra time showing you how much I revere your very being.”

“Nikolai,” you murmured, and his grip on your hands tightened.

“I cannot pretend to understand what you are going through,” he said. “I cannot lose what you have lost because I’ve never had it in the first place. But I can promise you wholeheartedly that we will figure out what is wrong. Together.”

“And what if we don’t?” you asked. You couldn’t help it.

“Then nothing will change,” Nikolai vowed. “Milaya, nothing can tear me away from you, whether you are Grisha or not. Do you understand that?”

A part of you still could not. Who were you if you were not of use?

But when you met Nikolai’s eyes, those beautiful hazel eyes that seemed to glow with the sunset, full of softness and admiration and love, you found that you could start to.

You may not have believed in yourself, but Nikolai did. And that had to mean something.

“I’m beginning to,” you murmured.

“Good,” he said, and his lips quirked into a smile. “But fear not, milaya. I hold enough love for you inside of me for the both of us in the meantime.”

#sadie's 3k celebration #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov x y/n #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov fic #nikolai lantsov fluff #nikolai lantsov angst #nikolai lantsov the love of my life #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fic #grishaverse x reader #sadie writes

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evandsolo · 11 days ago

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𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Bang Chan

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Bang Chan x f!reader 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : royalcore!Bang Chan. Flirt. Smut (more suggestive than fully described but still.) MDNI 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.426 𝐏𝐥𝐨𝐭 : Amid whispers of silk and shadows, a lady-in-waiting and the kingdom's fiercest general find themselves entangled in a dance of flirtation and unspoken promises. WARNING UNDER THE CUT ! UNDERAGED PEOPLE PLEASE DO NOT READ! 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : This was actually written for one of my friend whose a Stay ! But i thought it should not stay in my computer, so enjoy ! ✿ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, unprotected sex, fingering, aftercare. Please let me know if i've forgotten any.

The room was packed. The orchestra had played non-stop for hours. The rustling of silk and taffeta had filled the room all evening. It was a magnificent reception. One that no one will forget. One of those evenings that celebrate love and union. The ballroom was decorated with flowers, from floor to ceiling, the buffets overflowing with food. I had never seen such beautiful decorations before. Everything was simply sublime. Generals, soldiers, highnesses from all the surrounding kingdoms, everyone breathed joy and jubilation.

I could never have dreamed of a more beautiful event for the princess I had accompanied my entire life. Alina deserved the union of love she had experienced today, so much did her heart overflow with love and kindness. Everyone knew it, she would be a wonderful sovereign.

The crowd had ended up scattering, dissipating, as the night wore on. The bride and groom had received many congratulations until the last minute. They too had ended up slipping away, to enjoy this new union together. Only a few people remained in the room, who were still accompanying the orchestra. Some were still waltzing and would surely do so until dawn.

“You’re not dancing?” A voice called out from behind me, over the flying notes of the violins. “You’ve been here all night, making merry for everyone, but you haven’t stepped on the dance floor once.”

I turned around to look at the person who had surprised me, tearing a heartbeat from my chest. I come face to face with broad shoulders, covered in a velvet soldier's jacket. My breath chokes in my throat. I would recognize these shoulders among many others. General Bahng, head of the kingdom's armies.

“How do you know I did not dance, sir ?” I answered, catching his huge brown eyes.

It wasn't the first time we met. He was always there, around, since Alina's engagement. Watching over her, over the kingdom. I was always lucky enough to be able to admire him. He wasn't very tall, but he knew perfectly how to handle swords, which didn't take away from the natural charisma he gave off. In the outfit he wore tonight, in the colors of the kingdom, he shone all the more. A few strands of rebellious hair fell over his forehead and his smile could have melted any of the ladies present tonight.

“I’ve been watching you. You’re glowing, how could I look away?” He said with an amused smile. The sparkle in his eyes had never seemed so bright to me as it did at that very moment.

“So you didn’t have an eye on the bride and groom? You’re failing in your duty, General.” My tone echoed his. I clasp my hands behind my back, looking completely innocent. “Thank you for the compliment.”

“Come dance with me. That way I can keep an eye on the apple of the kingdom.” He then extends his gloved hand towards me and I observe him for a few seconds before slipping my hand into his. “I hope you are a good dancer, General. I wouldn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of this huge crowd.” I joked before following him a few steps further, onto the dance floor.

The last couple still present leaves the dance floor and we find ourselves alone, with just the orchestra. The violins begin to resonate, then all the sweetest notes of the wind instruments follow and finally, the piano rises in turn.

I feel his hand come to close on my waist while the other one tangles around my fingers. We were so close that I could feel his breath, crashing on my face. I come to place my hand on his shoulder and in rhythm, we begin to waltz. His eyes catch mine and I think that at that precise moment, I forget reality. I dive into his gaze and there is nothing more than him and me. Everything disappears in the room, as if a bubble had formed around us.

The music takes me somewhere else. I forget everything, I think of nothing more, except the warmth he diffuses in the hollow of my waist. The ease with which we understood each other in gestures. Everything seemed terribly natural. As if we had always danced together. Then, his hand leaves mine, to come and grab my waist, letting me gently go backwards, before coming back to hold me against him. His smile does not dissipate and in his gaze, I see only joy and a certain form of tenderness, which I had never seen in him. My smile became wider as my cheeks turned a little bit rosier.

“Why're you blushing ?” He said. “Are you that surprised to see that I can dance ?”

“Actually, I am ! I never thought you were so talented. I have to admit that the surprise is rather pleasant.” I admitted, with a slight smile. “Did you practiced for this evening?”

“Not for tonight in particular. But any self-respecting man must know how to turn his date’s head. And I was hoping one day to have the chance to make you twirl.”

Those words took my breath away. For a few seconds, I found myself staring at him without really understanding. Our steps stopped abruptly and I almost fell, tripping over his feet. Have I heard correctly? Or even understood what he meant?

“Be careful my Lady.” He said, catching you. “ Never thought that admitting I've been thinking about you day and night, would have that effect on you.” I see the mischievous glow in her eyes and the small smile that adorned her lips. All signs that did not deceive. I had understood well the first time.

“ You can't say that, General.” I mumbled, blinking a few times trying to stop the rush in my chest.

I could not deny the fact that the General was probably the most handsome man I had ever seen, nor even the attraction that might exist between him and me. It was not the first ball we shared, there had always been this particular feeling in the hollow of my belly when he was close. Like a cloud of butterflies, which suddenly fly away. My gaze was undeniably drawn to him. 8So hard that it was difficult to look away. There had always been this tension between him and me. That kind of invisible link, against which I could not go.

“Why? I have said nothing...” he breathes with a smile of amusement, making me whirl again, before stopping on my wrist. His thumb traces the edge of the ribbon that was tied on it. A garnet red satin ribbon. A gift he made me at the last ball we attended. We had been talking until late at night, by the fountain in the winter garden of a neighboring kingdom’s castle. Around a huge bouquet, I found a ribbon, which he had untied, before coming to tie it around my wrist. He kept some in his jacket pocket. Since then, this piece of cloth has never left my skin. It was dear to me.

“You kept it...” he said in a whisper, the eyes shining with a new light. “It beautifully brings out your porcelain skin. Red suits you so well.”

“Why should I not keep it? You don’t throw away a present. I like it. It reminds me of that wonderful evening we shared.” Say I in a breath, while his thumb continues to electrify my skin, as he holds me so close, that I feel his breath on my cheek. In a graceful movement he makes me spin again on several turns, before abandoning me in the middle of the track, alone. His laughter echoes through the room as I look for him. I find him further away waving something red between his fingers. It is fine and above all, it reflects the light. I quickly understand what it is, when I look down on my wrist, now naked.

“If you want it.... Come and get it, My Lady.” He said before running away into the halls of the castle in a playful laugh.

“General ! Come back !” I shouted, before I set out to chase him.

I do not know how many corridors or intersections I take, just by following the echo of his laughter. It sounded like a little bell, which pointed the way. I felt my breath burning in my chest as I walked across the open patio to look for him. Suddenly, his laughter fades and I stop, my chest rising at a frantic pace, as I try to catch my breath.

“General, where are you hiding?” I throw, breathlessly. I hear noise on the stone behind me, but when I turn around there is no one. Frustration fills my entire being as I call again. "General? Give it back to me!”

“Don’t you like to play, my Lady ?” I heard, as a distant voice that reached me like an echo. I turned again to move forward, but I had the impression of chasing a ghost, under the lights of the torches that adorned the walls and the moon, which entered through the openings. I knew how much he loved to play. It was his thing. Charm and play. But tonight it was getting cold and especially it was late. Yet I wanted to get back what was mine.

As I turned into another corridor, wishing he was there on the other side waiting for me, a hand grabbed mine and I suddenly hit the cold wall. I found myself surrounded by his perfume, the scent of mint, mixed with apple, geranium and vanilla, intoxicating me. His breath is stranded in the hollow of my neck, all against my skin and it’s a huge shiver that runs through me.

“Do you plan on giving me my ribbon back now?” I throw while trying to keep up. He runs my skin with light kisses for a simple answer before facing me. “Don’t be so hasty... Why not make the evening last a little longer?” He said, drawing a line of kisses along my jaw.

“We’re in the middle of a corridor.... That’s not right. Someone might see us.” I whisper, eyes half closed, while one of my hands comes to slide around his neck, to go caress his hairline.

“Who cares ? Don’t you think we should finish what we started… that other night?” He stands up and looks into my eyes. I can read a lot of emotions in it. The glow that shines is no longer just playful. The flame that now inhabits his eyes, makes me shiver.

“Here? Now?” I ask, in a small voice. I had no apprehension, I was perfectly confident. “General. Your impatience will lose you...” I breathe, letting my hands slide on his shoulders.

“Here, now. I can no longer contain the envy that devours me. Is it worthwhile to wait? I want you.”

I want you.

These words resonate in me like an echo. They trigger like a cataclysm. Suddenly, I feel dizzy again, as if some barriers had fallen. I watch him lean down, getting closer and closer to kiss my cheek, then the corner of my lips. I lose breath.

“I want every inch of you.” He whispered against my skin, before locking his words in a kiss. It is hot, desperate. I savor the depth of it. I give it back with much more aplomb. Nothing holds me back. It was as if, all the desire I tried to restrain, had escaped to take possession of every cell in my body. One of his hands leaves my waist to go up along my bust and run down on my chest. The contrast between the warmth of his skin against the fabric and the freshness of the marble against my back, gives me the feeling of consuming myself on the spot.

I could feel this knot take possession of my belly, as our skins rub against each other, intertwine. I end by breaking the kiss, to let my lips run aground on his jaw. I feel his hands, on every inch of my skin, like a thirsty man looking for an oasis in the desert. Quickly I feel it in my back, come to grind the fabric of my corset. The latter is undone more quickly than it should be, piteously lying on the ground.

“I wanted you for so long… You cannot imagine how long my soul has been calling to you.” He utters between two kisses laid down along my skin, pulling me almost a whimper. I feel it coming to mark my skin along my bust, on the curve of my chest, up to my belly, covered with lace. His hands, meanwhile, were already exploring my legs, under the silk of my skirt. “Let me love you as no man will ever love you.”

“Love me. Make me yours.” I whisper slightly tilting my head back as I feel the pulp of his fingers go up along my thigh. It’s so close and my whole body is burning to know it even closer as it goes up. It’s slow. Almost too slow. It gives birth to desire in me, it animates, and gives me the impression of burning from within, so much the envy seems to consume me. I had never felt anything so strong, but never had I wanted it so much. I was his, in the shadow of the moon, only spectator of what was happening.

A moan escapes me as it makes its way under the fabric to seek what was most intimate in my core. I cling painfully to him, my hands seeking support where they found it to keep me in balance, while waves of pleasure are making their way into the hollow of my belly. His kisses rise up to come and run down my neck. His fingers were playing with me, as if he already knew me by heart. I could feel it everywhere and nowhere at once. On me, in me, it felt like it was in every inch of my core.

I come to tighten my grip on it, as I feel this bubble growing in the bottom of my stomach. It is threatening like a wave that grows again and again as it comes to stoke the fire. I drop my head on his shoulder in a moan. It is omnipresent, I feel like I have only him, all around me. To be surrounded only by his being, his perfume, his skin.

“Not so fast, my Lady.” he whispered in the hollow of my ear, coming to take off his hand, and I suddenly felt like an orphan. I wanted more. I whine in protest. I almost begged him with my gaze. I wanted it, without waiting. What was he playing at?

In a burst of frustration at having been cut off in my flight, I reversed our positions, to come in turn steal countless desperate kisses. I come to mark his neck, while I am busy on his jacket, which falls to the ground in a deaf noise. Quickly and clumsily, I come to untie his shirt to infiltrate my hands under the fabric. I needed his warmth, his touch, to feel his skin under my fingers. I feel him tremble at my passage, as I leave a line of wet kisses on his skin. I savor the lines drawn of his musculature under my fingers, tracing it without forgetting a tiny patch.

“Why make me wait if you wanted it so much?” I ask against his skin, as I now snatch up to the buckle of his belt. I trace it with my fingertips. “I don’t want to play anymore.” I mused as I now stared at his hungry look. “You knew I would die of envy. Why leave me there, consumed by desire?”

“It will only be more delicious.” He says in turn, as I slide my hand under his belt to feel all his desire, marked by the lack of space and the stretching of the fabric under my fingers. “It’s better to reach the summits together, my sweet.”

I finally untied the buckle of his belt, then the opening of his pants and let my hands venture to the edge of his underwear and finally under the elastic. I grasp the full measure of his desire, trapping a little bit of my lip between my teeth, without ever ceasing to stare at him. I could almost see the flame dancing in his eyes. There is lust, love, passion in the way he looks at me, while my hand plays with him, surrounds him, tastes him. As a fair return, of the game his hands had played a few moments earlier. A moan escapes his throat, and it’s my turn to leave his skin. I take my hand back, with a slight smile on my face. “Not so fast, Christopher...” I threw, amused, teasing him with his name muttered.

“I didn’t know you were such a player...” He said, as I came to prick my mouth with countless kisses, while I found myself again, cornered against the stone wall. His hands quickly come to grab the fabric of my dress to pull it up to my waist. The pulp of his fingers against my skin electrifies me and I gurgle with impatience against his lips. “P-Please…” I beg him with a breath, as his thumb touches me. I wanted it all. I wanted no more barriers between us. I’m busy sliding his pants down his thighs, while quickly, I feel the lace grounding at my feet.

Then, finally, he comes to grab one of my thighs and lifts it up against his hip, so that our bodies can align perfectly, and in a passionate kiss, our bodies unite, with a slowness, but a passion that knows no equal. He waits a few moments, before I look at him and beg him to continue. I feel it everywhere, in the slightest movement. Each thrust takes me into a world where there is no more than us.

I come to put my head in the hollow of his neck, to try to smother pitifully the moans that escape me, while he fills me with the most natural way. I feel it collides with the center of my pleasure and I cling not to lose my anchor with reality. But I feel the waves take possession of my lower abdomen. The knot is febrile, it threatens at any moment to explode and overwhelm me completely.

“More.. please…” I groaned against his skin, I needed more. I wanted to touch the heavens under his touch. He tightens his grip on my hips, before coming to slide his hands under my buttocks to lift me completely and I close my trembling legs around his waist. I feel it further away at each thrust and none of us is able to hold the slightest sound that escapes our bodies while our eyes cross again.

“You’re perfect.” He said, while thrusting harder, deeper, until I felt the knot exploding. My vision fills with stars, and for a few moments nothing is clear around me. My breath is short, jerky. I feel my core clenching around him as he reaches his high. He then let his head fall back on my shoulder, while he moaned my name in a last stroke.

Our bodies separate after a few seconds and I rest my feet on the ground, without really letting go. I still needed an anchor to make sure that I had not dreamt what had just happened.

“Are you okay, my Lady?” He blows, lifting the cloth up on his body to cover himself again. I nod my head, while taking a breath. “I am fine, marvellously fine.” I finally confirm without turning my eyes. “We should take care of you tonight.” He adds, while lifting me in his arms, making me laugh as I grab his neck. “ What a playful gentleman you are.” I chuckle, as my heart gently thumps in my chest. “Where are you taking me?” I finally ask, as he climbs the castle stairs.

“Where my love for you has no limits,” he said, with a smile full of riddles.

After making sure that everything was fine, the night ended between the delicate sheets of his apartments and I felt at last complete, surrounded by his tenderness, his laughter and his warmth. I felt more loved than ever.

I really hope you appreciated it, do not hesitate to reblog or to leave a note i’d love to read all about your thoughts. ✿ Evandsolo, 2025 ✿

#kpop imagines #stray kids imagines #bang chan #bang chan smut #bangchan x reader #skz smut #skz x reader #skz imagines #chan x reader

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yougotthatbilly · 2 years ago

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romanée-conti (m)

→ member: jung jaehyun → genre: sugar daddy!jaehyun | slowburn | smut → playlist: alone with you x alina baraz, break the ice x britney spears → word count: 24k → warnings: LEGAL age gap, praise, oral; giving & receiving, unprotected sex (be smart pls), jaehyun likes her head to toe (literally), ‘do/can i call you daddy now?’ jokingly, one real ‘daddy’ (comes with the territory lol), petnames; baby, thumb in butt, probably more ↳summary: Having a sugarless- sugar daddy is proving to be more difficult than planned.

Dark brown eyes resting above prominent eye bags that look like they came from either genetics or lack of sleep—possibly both—are the first thing your eyes zone in on when you approach the table the owner of said eyes is sitting at, waiting for your arrival. As soon as he noticed your presence and looked up from his phone, it was hard to pay attention to anything else.

Until he smiled.

The curve of his lips and flash of his teeth are friendly and welcoming, with the slightest hint of shyness, and you truly see that pictures don’t always do people the justice they deserve. Faint crows feet appear due to his smile reaching his eyes, and somehow, they only add onto his appeal.

“Hey,” his gentle, deep voice pushes through your thoughts. He stands and your eyes travel up to follow his face before flashing downward at the sight of his hand being presented to you, and back up to his eyes. “I’m glad you could make it,” he says as he shakes your hand softly, letting go soon after to motion for you to sit across from him with both hands.

“Me, too,” you softly smile back, setting your purse beside you.

You finally look away from him to take in your surroundings. When you walked in, you barely paid attention to anything, only having the mind to scan people’s faces until you found one you recognized. Now, after greetings and the initial shock of just how gorgeous this man is, you can take in how this is a pretty nice place; everyone dressed in business casual attire, like this is where businessmen and women come after a long day or week to unwind. Dark, sleek wooden surfaces and furniture paired with deep red decorations that give the place a simple and mature feel.

Taeyong catches your eye from the bar nearby and he quirks a brow in question. You blink once and look away.

“I knew from your photos that you were pretty, but you’re much more beautiful in person,” is said when it’s clear you’re done observing the place. Under the dim, artificial lighting of the overhead lamp above your table, the softest pink flush on his ears is clear as he compliments you, and it leaves you both intrigued and confused.

“And you’re much more handsome,” you compliment right back. There was a fear of him being a catfish or using a picture from when he was younger to reel you and others in, and you’re pleasantly surprised and thankful the man waiting for you is actually the one from the photos. The angles of his face are soft and so are his features; gentle yet mysterious eyes and a pouty bottom lip that’s caught in between his teeth because of your words.

His fingers drum against the wooden tabletop before he pulls his hand into his lap. “Would you like some wine?”

“Sure.”

He raises his hand, pointer finger lazily lifted. In no time a pretty server is at your table, setting wine glasses in front of the both of you.

“Red or white, sir?” she asks, and you guess he’s a regular here.

“Whatever she wants.”

Both pairs of eyes land on you and make you blink.

She’s gone and back in the blink of an eye when you choose red, carefully pouring the wine of your choice into the glasses before she disappears again.

“If you don’t like it, let me know and we can get you something else.”

You gently swirl the deep, pretty colored liquid around a few times then sip.

Oh. This is nice.

“How was your day?” he asks.

Long. Extensive. “It was good,” you say instead. “Pretty productive and eventful. How about yours?”

“Productive but not quite eventful,” he laughs softly. He relaxes into the cushion behind him, and you note that his shoulders are broad even when they’re not up to his ears in a tense manner. His black button-up looks nice on him, stretching across his shoulders and chest in a snug fit. “Is it alright if we talk a little before getting into things?”

“Of course,” you nod. There hasn’t been a conversation since he asked you for your number a week ago other than when tonight’s date was planned, so you don’t quite know him. You’re someone who relies heavily on your gut feeling and right now there are no warning bells going off in your head, but chatting for a while will definitely give you a better feel of things.

“Tell me a little about yourself?”

You tell him what you’re sure he already knows from your bio; your name and age, where you’re from and a few of your hobbies, in addition to your occupation. He listens intently, eyes taking in your features as he nods along to the information he’s receiving, drink never too far from his mouth. And when you can’t think of any other description of yourself that’s appropriate for a first meeting, you drink a little more.

“How about you?”

He hums, visibly racking his mind for something to tell you.

“Well,” he says a moment later. “I’m Jaehyun, I recently turned thirty-eight, and I’m from Seoul.”

And when he stops there, his face showing he doesn’t know what to continue with, you realize he isn’t very social. The pretty much awkward atmosphere, the shyness of his smiles and fidgeting of his fingers make you wonder if this is also his first time doing something like this, if he’s just shy overall, or both. This is nothing like what you thought it would be. You expected to be asked a lot of personal questions from the jump. You expected to get an earful of how great and successful he is, to get an earful of all the things he could do for you in exchange for whatever he wanted. You didn’t expect a socially awkward sugar-daddy-to-be.

Luckily, you’re a great conversationalist.

“So what brings you to New York?”

“My father owns a few businesses and I chose to run the one here.”

“Do you like it here in the states?”

His eyes squint in thought before answering with, “I’m not sure,” and when your head tilts to silently ask him to elaborate, his explanation is: “I lived in Connecticut for a little when I was younger and I don’t remember much about it, and I’ve been here for a few years but I only go to work, cafes, business events and home if I’m not traveling.”

“You travel a lot?”

He rubs his lips together and tilts his head side to side with a pondering hum. “You could say that.”

“So how often would we meet?”

Jaehyunhyun blinks at your question.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, looking past his shoulder and meeting your cousin’s gaze once again. “We haven’t even gotten into that territory yet.”

“No, you’re fine. I’m just glad you’re still considering it.”

Well, things are going well in your opinion, and even though he’s socially awkward, as far as you can tell, he’s good company. You’re good with conversation and take pride in brightening situations, so this arrangement could go well. He’s a busy guy so you wouldn’t see him often, which means there won’t be any major changes in your lifestyle, and that’s perfect. You have no complaints so far.

The last of your wine is sipped and you eye the last small drop that sticks to the bottom of the glass, almost tempted to ask for a refill just because it’s the weekend, but you know Taeyong will chew your head off and you’d rather not hear that on the way back to your place.

“Everything is ultimately up to you, Jaehyun,” you shrug. “I’m down if you are.”

His arm is up again and in seconds the server is back with the bottle of wine in tow. She moves to pour more into your glass but you stop her with your hand. “I’m okay, thank you.”

Jaehyun squints as his glass gets filled half-way.

“You didn’t really like it, did you?”

A smile teases at the corner of your mouth. You’re amused and touched that he actually cares about what you like already.

“I promise I did,” you laugh, resting a gentle hand on the back on his own that found the table again. He doesn’t flinch at the contact but his eyes grow in size for a split second. “I’m a bit of a lightweight and I do have to drive home.”

When he’s convinced, you bring your hand back in front of you.

“Mind me asking how you found yourself looking for a… companion?” you ask him, grinning at the way his dimple makes an appearance at your choice of words.

“It was suggested, actually,” Jaehyun responds. “I said something about always being left alone at business events because all of my partners are either in relationships, married, or like to sleep around. Plus, all I do is work, so a friend told me about the website and here we are now.” You nod along, imagining being left alone to just drink and talk business while his business partners disperse with their romantic partners. It must be boring. “What about you?”

“Also suggested,” you chuckle. “I love my job and I live pretty comfortably, but I have goals I’m working on and I’d like to do so without having to think about a bill or getting another job. My best friend successfully found a perfect match so she was sure I would, as well.”

“Before anything,” he clears his throat, looking down at his glass and watching the deep red slosh in circles due to the movement of his hand. “I want you to know I meant what I said about no special favors. I truly don’t want anything other than your company… maybe a few times a month?” he glances back up at you with flushed cheeks. Cute. “Would that work for you?”

“That’s perfect. Do I call you Daddy now?”

He chokes on the sip he was in the middle of taking and you have to bite the inside of your lips to stop a giggle from coming out. “I’m kidding.”

He blinks at you a couple of times before shaking his head. “You’re funny.”

“Thanks,” you wink.

“If it’s alright with you, we could discuss all the paperwork the next time we meet. I wanted the both of us to get a feel of one another before we made any legal decisions.”

“That’s fine with me.”

“I want you to do something for me.” At the rise of your brow–which was only out of curiosity and to prompt him to continue--he backtracks. “That sounded really suggestive, I apolo—”

“Jaehyun,” you call, biting back another laugh. The panic in his eyes goes away at your touch. “we already discussed there would be no sugar given, it’s okay. What do you want me to do?”

“Think of a price if you haven’t already.”

It’s up to you?

“Really?” You ask. He nods. “You’re not going to decide? I thought that was how this worked?” You’re comfortable showing your naivety in this situation because it’s quite obvious he’s no pro at this either.

Jaehyun frowns at your words and sets his glass down, leaning forward. “Just like in any healthy or ethical relationship, business or personal, this works both ways. So with anything from this point on, if you want something or have concerns about anything you have to let me know immediately, alright?”

You nod, taken aback. “Got it.”

You’re getting the vibe that he’s serious about every move he makes, every word he says, and you can see why he’s probably such a successful businessman. He hasn’t said much but he doesn’t beat around the bush, and the transition in his aura from having small talk to talking about business, the way he just laid down the law, admittedly sparked something in your gut.

“Think about it and we’ll discuss it next time.”

“When will ‘next time’ be?”

“Let me check,” he mumbles, digging for his phone in his pocket.

At the duck of his head, a waving hand from behind him catches your attention. Taeyong’s brows are raised, his fingers forming the okay sign. You blink a single time once more.

“I fly back in on Wednesday next week,” Jaehyun says. “Does Wednesday afternoon work for you?”

“Sounds good,” you nod.

He glances back down at his phone. “I don’t mean to rush things I’ve got an early meeting tomorrow,” Jaehyun nibbles on his bottom lip. “Was there anything else you wanted to discuss tonight?”

You look up as if you’re thinking, and when Taeyong meets your eye, you subtly tilt your head in the direction of the door and naturally blink three times. “I think we covered everything so far.”

Taeyong finishes his beer and pays for it out of the corner of your eye.

“Okay then,” Jaehyun slides out of the booth and stands to your side, extending his hand for you to grab.

Add gentleman to the list of characteristics.

You grab your clutch in one hand then his own hand with your other and scoot yourself out of the booth with his assistance. He doesn’t let go, his grip loose but warm.

“It was really nice meeting you.”

“Likewise.”

“So?”

You cut your eyes at your cousin as you buckle your seatbelt.

“Can we get out of the parking lot before he comes out and before you start questioning me?”

Taeyong grumbles something under his breath but backs out of the parking space nonetheless. And as soon as you’re on the main road he repeats himself.

“He’s nice,” you hum, leaning forward to undo the clasps around your ankles, wiggling your heels off with a sigh. “I like him. He’s cute.”

Taeyong scoffs. “I can’t believe you’re really doing this.”

He wasn’t onboard with it one bit, which is why he immediately agreed to be your backup just in case. The whole ride to the bar consisted of him making sure you had the signals down packed; blink once if things are peachy, blink twice if you feel uncomfortable, and blink three times (he said thrice but that word rubs you the wrong way) when it’s time to go. Oh, and repeating that you didn’t need to do this. You appreciate him and his worries but it’s not like he’s going to help you with your debt.

You’re young, confident in your looks, confident in your personality. Nine times out of ten, you have no trouble getting what you want, so why not get a sugar daddy that doesn’t have sex as a requirement?

When Sooyoung told you about getting a couple grand a date from her guy—more if she threw in a hand- or blowjob—and she has well over enough money to blow after paying bills and saving, you were intrigued. You’re no prude or anything but you knew you wouldn’t want to jump in offering ass to almost sixty-year-old men, so when she told you that you can make it clear that you weren’t down for special flavors and that some relationships are innocent, you thought why the hell not.

Plus, you’ve been bored and wanted to do something new, something exciting.

“Well believe it because we’re meeting again Wednesday,” you lilt. “He’s a sweetheart, really. You know how I am with catching vibes.”

“Pft. It could be an act,” he grumbles. You sigh and dig your phone out of your clutch, going to your music app. “What if he’s a narc—”

Thank god for bluetooth.

Taeyong glares at you when you turn the volume up and your favorite song blasts from his speakers, but he doesn’t try to carry on the conversation, instead singing along because you’ve played it too many times for him to not know the lyrics and because he finally caught the hint.

And when you get a message an hour later asking if you’ve made it home safely, you trust your gut a little more.

Today you woke up late and your outfit and hair definitely showed it when you first arrived at work, but thankfully you keep a travel-sized stash of makeup and hair tools in your desk and you were able to get yourself presentable before your first-period students piled in and took their seats.

Being behind on grading tests and homework from last week with another pile of tests from yesterday you need to get done in time for your students to be able to see their mistakes and retest before break in a few weeks, potential sugar daddies have definitely not been on your mind.

Not until you get a message around two-thirty while you’re halfway through the homework pile.

[2:15pm] Jaehyun: Good afternoon, I will be landing shortly. Do you still want to meet today?

“Shit.”

“Language.”

You completely forgot Jisung was staying after to retake a test from weeks ago. But from the looks of it, he’s done and just chilling on his phone. A glance at your desk lets you know he’s already gotten up, walked over to your desk and put his test down in the corner. This is exactly why you shouldn’t stay up until three in the morning lesson planning and only getting three hours of sleep.

“Hey,” you beckon him over to the seat next to yours. “Wanna help me?”

“Do I get extra credit for this?” he asks as he eyes the pile of work and the answer key you give him.

“Maybe.”

You’ll probably give him a donut or something tomorrow.

[2:17pm] you: Hey! I’m finishing up at work right now so just let me know when you’ve arrived.

After Jisung finishes his pile and you’re almost done with the new pile you started, your phone starts buzzing.

“Hello?” you answer, making sure to turn the volume down because Jisung is a nosy little thing.

“Hey,” oh, you forgot how smooth his voice is. “I’m at this cafe a couple of blocks away from the bar we last met. Would you like to meet me here and then maybe find something else?”

You take in the few tests and homework assignments left to grade. “Yeah, that’s perfect. Send me the address and I can be there in about twenty.”

“Alright, I’ll see you then.”

“Did you start dating?”

You ruffle Jisung’s hair. Absolutely not telling him just so he can tell his partner in crime. You wouldn’t hear the end of it tomorrow if you did.

“Thanks for helping, hun. Am I taking you home?”

You barely make the twenty minute mark from the time Jaehyun sent you the address and you have to stop yourself from running inside of the cafe like a mad woman. Dropping Jisung off was no issue, his house was on the way. Your eyebags, smeared eyeliner, and dry ass lips were the problem (how some of your students can manage to fancy you when you’ve occasionally gone to school looking like a mess is beyond you). An extra five minutes or so in the parking lot of your destination resulted in you looking far better, but not nearly as good as you did the first night.

Not nearly as good as Jaehyun does sitting there waiting for you with a small mug in his hand while he holds a newspaper with the other. He’s just barely slouched, a white button-down covering his upper body this time. He looks photoshoot ready and you’re grateful you took the time to fix yourself up.

“Hey,” you greet quietly as you sit in the chair across from him, hooking your purse onto the back of it. “Sorry I’m late. I had to give one of my students a ride home.”

Jaehyun puts the newspaper down after folding it in half. “You’re not late, no worries.”

He looks tired. His bags look like how yours did before the second layer of concealer for the day, his eyes low in comparison to the last time you saw them. You wonder how far he traveled.

“How was your flight?”

“Twelve hours too long,” he sighs. When he makes a move to take another sip of his coffee, he pouts at the realization his cup is empty. “I could barely sleep.”

“We could’ve met another day, you know?”

“I know. I wanted to see you.” He’s not flirty, but upfront. You like it. “Did you think of anything to do?”

“Well, you look like you could fall out any minute now,” you half stall, half voice genuine concern. “Maybe we should wait until your next free day to actually do something?” You’re more than fine with just sitting here for a while longer and having a collection of brief conversations with him and looking at each other until he gets too sleepy or has to leave because of another early meeting in the morning.

“Are you sure?”

You’ve been speaking all day. This is a nice wind-down from repeating yourself and having to raise your voice.

“Yeah. I can’t remember the last time I sat in a cafe and just chilled,” you sigh, taking another glance at your surroundings.

“I’m getting another cup. Do you want anything?”

A thousand a date seems… excessive. Sooyoung is high maintenance so it makes sense for her to want that much as a minimum, especially when she goes on a date once a week. But for you, that amount is a lot when meetups with Jaehyun are going to be really chill. So when he suggests two grand every week since you still couldn’t think of a price for your possible relationship, choking on the sip of tea you just took is a reasonable reaction.

“I mean, anything less wouldn’t make much sense to me. You’re a teacher so you probably don’t make that much when student loans are involved, right?”

You blink stupidly at his bluntness. “Well, yes. But--”

“Do you have someone to help pay your bills?”

“No…”

“And you said you have goals. I want to help invest in those. Are you opposed to that?”

“Not at all.”

“So what’s the problem?” If he partakes in the debating and persuading at work, you’re sure deals end with additional zeros in his bank account. He has you stumped and you’re almost positive he proved his point with little to no thinking process required. “I was actually going to suggest more, but I figured we’d start off small. Do you just feel uncomfortable with that amount?”

It’s interesting yet almost frustrating how he’s kept the straightest face this whole discussion. Just sipping on his coffee and never breaking eye contact. You need to take notes so that your higher ups take you seriously when you address an issue.

“No, it’s not that.”

“So,” he clears his throat, sliding a piece of paper and pen closer to you, “do we have a deal?”

“I guess we do.” You sign the contract (that you’ve already looked over a couple times) and shake his hand when he presents it in front of you. “You’re intimidating when you talk business, you know.”

His smile is wide as he shakes his head, telling you he’s been told once or twice.

Big, excited brown eyes stare down at you as you hold Nala up in the air and softly wiggle her. Her tail wags wildly when the click and push of your front door resonates throughout your home.

“Babe?”

“In here!” you call, still giving your baby your undivided attention.

Sooyoung walks in the living room, leather pants and a fur coat adorning her figure. She tsks at the way you’re laid out on your couch, completely neglecting the powerpoints and Kahoots you were making a while ago. “Procrastination at its finest.”

Nala is taken out of your grasp and Sooyoung gives her the same treatment you just were, so you take the time to stand and stretch. “You shouldn’t have asked me out while I was in my zone. Now I’m not touching that until tomorrow,” you wave in the general direction of your Macbook.

She snorts and sits down while you go to your room to get ready for your date.

The two of you walk into a bar with R&B Hip Hop playing at the perfect volume some time later. The lights are dim and set the perfect mood for drinking and catching up. She leads you to sit at the bar and orders the both of you something that won’t exactly get you fucked up, seeing that the both of you have jobs to attend to in the morning.

“So,” Sooyoung spins towards you, crossing her legs dramatically.

“So?”

“Jaehyun. Tell me about him. How are things going?”

You learned from the first few times of being with Jaehyun that you’ll be doing most of the talking, but he always responds and asks a question or two, genuinely interested if the tick of his eyebrow means anything. It’s nice to have someone new to share stories with, especially since your schedule clashes with your best friend’s. Also because within the last couple of years, most of your experiences with guys have been the same: mostly physical attraction from both sides and it turning into a relationship where you get the shit end of the stick and get hurt. When it comes to Jaehyun, yes the physical attraction is there, but though you don’t know much about each other, you enjoy the platonic bond that’s building… as well as your growing savings account. You don’t text unless someone sends a simple have a great day at work or good night text (and when it’s sent to you, you usually find yourself smiling before getting out of bed or falling asleep). You never talk about anything deep like your past, dreams for the future (aside from briefly discussing the business you want to start up eventually), or theories about life, but the trivial conversations you have about work and the news and whatever else is always enough.

“He’s kind of awkward but it’s nothing unbearable,” you begin, eyes wandering as you think of ways to describe him. “He’s tall, fine as hell for him to be almost twice my age, and…” you trail off, head tilting as you think.

She looks at you impatiently. “And what?”

“He’s such a gentleman,” you finally come up with. “I get to do whatever I want with no complaints, he makes sure my fridge and pantry are stocked, and doesn’t require a lot of my time. I can’t complain at all. Especially when he’s investing in me.”

“Show me what he looks like again.”

You pull up a picture you took with him during your museum date and hand her the phone.

“You look good together,” she compliments after a while of observing the photo.

You agree.

“You sure you wanna keep up your abstinence when he’s your sugar daddy?”

You scoff lightheartedly, taking your phone back. “Is that all you think about?”

“I mean, no, but,” She gestures weirdly with her hands. “He looks like that. And he clearly treats you amazing. I would’ve been busted it open for him.”

“We both agreed on sugarless interactions,” you humph proudly. “But if this lasts a while, I would consider it.”

No point in bullshitting her when she’s known you for over a decade. You’ve been abstinent since your last relationship because you don’t like the thought or feeling of sharing such intimate energy with someone who doesn’t give a fuck about you or wouldn’t even come to the rescue if you caught a flat on the side of the road. Your last few situations with men haven’t been the best and you’ve chosen to focus on healing and growing, and most times than not, sex has interrupted that healing and growing. You don’t want to repeat the same lessons after learning them.

“Is someone crushing on their sugar daddy?” she practically sings around her straw, eyes full of mischief.

“I can’t talk well about someone without having a crush on them?”

“‘He’s such a gentleman,’” Sooyoung repeats in an exaggerated dreamy voice, topping off her performance by dramatically fitting her chin in the hand that’s propped up by her elbow on the bartop. “You already knew he wasn’t going to act like guys our age but you’re still gushing over him and considering fucking him.”

“Crush is too strong of a word,” you roll your eyes at the knowing smile she gives you. “He’s kind, attractive, successful, respectful, and helps me out financially in addition to expanding and stocking my wine collection. How else am I supposed to feel?”

“Sure, Jan.”

“Plus, he’s pretty...” you trail off to find the right word. “Guarded. We only talk about me or surface level things. Kinda hard to really like someone you hardly know.”

“Don’t act like you’re not into the mysterious type,” Sooyoung says flatly before sipping. “There was Sehun, Hyungwon, H–”

“How’s Yuta been treating you?”

And that’s all it takes to direct the conversation to her life and stop coming for yours. She gives too many explicit details but you can’t find it in you to complain because her stories are always interesting as fuck and you aren’t getting any action. She doesn’t exactly have feelings for him, only caring about how great the sex is and the amount of money that goes into her bank account, so she can’t quite relate to the very slow building fondness you feel for Jaehyun. She was right, though. The concoction of his attractiveness, success, and mysteriousness has definitely made you develop a crush. You have other things to worry about, so you don’t exactly think too much of it and just enjoy your time with him a few times a month.

You call it a night after one more drink, and on your way out your phone vibrates.

[10:50pm] Jaehyun: Brunch tomorrow?

[10:51pm] you: Sounds good

[10:56pm] Jaehyun: I’ll pick you up at 11:30.

You can’t help but smile at the image of Jaehyun in his work attire, sitting in the booth with a grease-stained menu in his hands as he figures out what he wants to order. Brunch didn’t go quite as planned with the work you had to finish, but dinner worked perfectly for the both of you.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?”

Your smile only widens. “Didn’t expect you to be the hole-in -the-wall burger joint type, is all.”

“I’m treating myself,” he explains. “Yesterday was a successful day and what better way to treat myself than a greasy meal and your company?”

Your brows shoot up at his last couple of words. “My company, huh?”

He nods, averting his attention to the menu again. Though you want to press the situation a little more, you drop it, but you’re now smiling for a different reason.

“So you said yesterday was successful?”

“Mhm. I closed an important deal and it was finalized yesterday.”

“Congratulations. Our ideas of treating ourselves are certainly different, but I’m glad to be your treat,” You wink, having one more jab at him. And the color of his ears deepen.

Somewhere in the midst of ordering and having small talk, the topic of stocks and investment comes up.

“One of the smartest things I’ve ever done for the company was to invest in Bitcoin and that’s basically why I got the opportunity to run the office here,” he tells you.

“I kind of understand the concept, but I don’t understand the benefits and all that.”

This prompts Jaehyun to go on a lengthy explanation of how it works. He explains something called Blockchain then how the rapper 50 Cent accidentally got a lot of money because he invested in it when a fan of his wanted to buy an album and that was their only form of payment. You prop your elbow up and rest your chin in your palm, his words go straight over your head. In the middle of explaining how Blackbear got rich off of it and that’s why he makes terrible music now, he pauses and blinks.

“I didn’t mean to go on a tangent, I’m sorry.”

“No.” You shake your head. “Don’t apologize, I wanna hear more.”

He looks at you skeptically, so you slip your foot in between his calves and look at him expectantly. You don’t understand the details but you appreciate the topic because it’s something he’s interested in and it’s the first time you’ve seen him talk about something with this much passion. His eyes were shiny and everything.

You raise your eyebrows and blink until he picks the conversation back up.

The glint in his eyes comes back while the two of you eat. Yeah, definitely crushing.

You open your front door after a loud, sudden knock resounded throughout your apartment to find no one, but instead a few boxes and a bag waiting for you on your door mat. You tilt your head to the side and think for a moment. You didn’t order anything.

Looking into the red bag to see if there’s a sign or clue of who these came from, you find a white envelope with your name written in cursive on it. With another glance around you, you decide to open everything inside instead. It’s cold. The packages range in size, so you pick up the smaller packages and kick the biggest one inside of your apartment.

Seated at your dining table, you open the envelope and pull the card out.

Saw these and thought of you. I hope you like everything. -Jaehyun

You fight the smile that wants to take over your face. You figured it was him or Sooyoung. Your best friend likes to send you random things when she comes across something she knows you’d like but wouldn’t buy yourself.

Actually looking at the bag, Cartier is written across it, and your eyes widen. Inside, there are two different sized boxes. The smaller one is their love ring, and the bigger one is the matching bracelet, both in yellow gold. With a grin, you nibble on your lower lip and read the card that comes with the jewelry.

Too excited to wait until you look at the other packages, you slip the ring on your middle finger. It doesn’t go past your second knuckle, so you try your ring finger, and it fits perfectly. Next is the bracelet, which is a bit loose, but you’re sure that’s an easy fix.

Grabbing your phone, you take a picture of the jewelry on you and send it to your sugar daddy.

[1:23pm] you: Thank you so much, Jaehyun. I love them.

His reply comes a lot quicker than you’d expected.

[1:24pm] Jaehyun: Of course. How do they fit?

[1:26pm] you: I could size down on the bracelet but the ring is perfect.

[1:27pm] Jaehyun: We’ll get that fixed soon. Did you get everything else I sent?

Oh yeah. There is more. You put the jewelry back in the respective boxes and move on to the biggest box, which turns out to be a blender and juicer in one. This actually brings the smile out. The last time the two of you were together, you’d said in passing that you want to start making your own juices and smoothies and stuff instead of buying the processed ones from stores.

The next box is a few bottles of Domaine de la Romanee-Conti and now your teeth are showing with how much bigger your smile gets.

[1:35pm] you: Yes I just opened them! I appreciate everything, thank you Jae.

[1:40pm] Jaehyun: Anytime, beautiful. Remember, you can ask me for anything you want and I’ll get it, okay? [1:41pm] Jaehyun: I want you to actually tell me when you want or need something [1:41pm] Jaehyun: And we’re still good for Saturday, right? I want to pamper you a little.

He’d mentioned it the last couple of dates, that he’d like you to send him pictures and screenshots of things you’d want and need when you come across them, to not worry about spending your own money when you’ve got him.

[1:45pm] you: Yes sir. And I’m all yours Saturday.

The moment you step into the nail salon, an older woman at the front greets you with a genuine smile and welcomes Jaehyun back.

“The usual?” she asks Jaehyun, to which he nods and returns her smile. “And what about you, honey?”

“A full set with gel polish, please.”

She grabs a basket of the gel polish swatches and hands it to you. “When you’re ready you can go to seat three.”

You eye the colors, but the same few colors you always gravitate towards catch your eye.

“Hey,” you call quietly to get Jaehyun’s attention. “Can you pick a color for me?”

Not only would you like a change, you’re also curious about his taste. He wears nothing but neutral colors, as far as you know, so you wonder if it’s just for the job or if he is really just that simple of a man.

The lady on the other side of desk three smiles brightly at you as you put your purse on the hook next to you. “Did you pick a color yet?”

You point to Jaehyun, “I let him decide for me today.”

Her eyebrows slowly rise. “He’s finally gotten himself a girlfriend?” she asks the woman beside her. They just exchange a look that you don’t quite understand or care enough to try to understand.

Right as she begins prepping your second hand, Jaehyun sits down beside you at desk two and sets his chosen color beside you.

A neutral pink. Fitting for the season, but a color you definitely would’ve chosen yourself.

“This with the white tips. I like that look,” he explains. Good taste. You haven’t had french tips in a while.

He watches the nail technician he was assigned to as she works, the two having small talk and you take a wild guess that she’s the woman who usually, if not always, does his manicures, meanwhile you watch the tv above your tech’s head. This compilation of aesthetically pleasing videos is playing and it’s admittedly hard to take your eyes off of it.

The video plus getting pampered has you relaxed in your seat, the stress from the school week that just ended melting away. Your nail technician is so gentle with you, you could doze off. She eventually asks a few questions like if you’re from around the area, if you know there’s a bruise on the middle finger of your dominant hand (from holding pens/pencils all damn day) and more all in a gentle voice, and before you know it she’s done with the structure of the acrylic and the filing, sending you off to rinse your hands off well.

You come back to the sight of Jaehyun stifling a big yawn behind his free hand, shaking his head as if to gather himself right after. Once again, instead of getting some rest after a long flight, he’s out with you. This is the third time. A big part of you is flattered, really, because you enjoy being with him and the feeling is clearly mutual. But, you’re sure he didn’t get proper rest last night or today.

You stick your right hand out for the tech to start on and place your free hand on his bicep to gain his attention. He blinks at you, confused, and you ignore the sudden warmth that spreads in your chest at the adorable look on his face.

“Why do you keep postponing sleep to take me out?” you ask.

The blinking continues, taken aback at getting called out. “Because I look forward to being with you after business trips?” he asks more than states, and you just continue to admire his straightforwardness.

“Do you trust me to drive back?” You caress his blushing cheek with your thumb because you can’t help yourself when the color fades in, and he doesn’t move away. If anything, he leans into the touch, much to your surprise. “You look like you could fall out any second.”

He nods slowly and you return the gesture with a smile, muttering out a soft ‘okay’ before putting your hand back in front of you.

“I’m glad to see you’ve found someone that can deal with your busy schedule,” his nail tech says, sighing like a relative that’s been waiting for him to get married for the longest. “You two are a lovely couple.”

The two of you thank her, both glancing at one another.

“Speaking of schedules,” Jaehyun says as if just remembering something. “Are you busy on Saturday?”

“Not if you need me.” Saturday was just going to be spent reviewing lesson plans and doing self-care with Bella.

His dimples appear at your response. “We have a business event to attend to.”

“Ah,” You nod and squint in mock suspicion. “You’re buttering me up to surround me with a whole bunch of men talking about boring business stuff. Got it.”

“It’s not even like that,” he chuckles deeply. “You know I need you by my side.”

And yeah, that is in the contract, but the tone of his voice and look in his eyes make you believe that your agreement isn’t the only reason for his words. Now you’re the one with a warm face.

Back in the front of the salon, after Jaehyun has paid, he gently grabs your hand and lifts it up to look at your nails. He nods, satisfied with how they look, clasping your hands together to lead you out of the salon. Not before thanking and saying goodbye to the staff.

Jaehyun opens the door of the driver’s side with his free hand and gestures for you to get in. When you just stand there, he says: “You said you’d drive, right?”

“You’re one hundred percent sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Your initial thought is why would you be because even Taeyong doesn’t let you drive his baby, but you don’t question him further. You just slip into the car and he’s fighting a smile at the way all of your teeth are showing due to your excitement. He closes the door and makes his way into the passenger seat.

You’ve never felt so giddy to adjust mirrors and the seat of a car before.

“Where to?” you ask, seatbelt on and ready to go.

“The mall we passed on the way here. I saw something I thought you might like.”

You absolutely adore the matching Saint Laurent bag and heels; black with gold accents.

“Oh wow.”

Jaehyun’s reaction to you opening your front door is enough to let you know he thinks you look as good as you feel, if not better. Admittedly, the heels are the most uncomfortable pair you’ve ever walked in, but when they look this pretty, paired with the sleek, tight emerald dress that you were gifted a couple days ago with a note reminding you of tonight’s events, who really cares about comfort? You’ll likely be sitting down most of the night, anyway.

You smile slyly at his lack of words. “Hey, handsome. Come in, I’m almost done.”

“You smell good,” is what he says as he walks past you and into your home, and you’ll take it. You did bring out your favorite scent tonight after all.

“Thank you,” you chuckle. “I’ll be right back.”

Maybe you walk a tad bit slower than usual because you have a great feeling he’s watching you as you disappear into your room. You grab your purse and trench coat, check your lip gloss, then make your way back to where you left Jaehyun.

“Sorry,” he begins as you walk up to him, prompting you to raise a brow. “Good evening. You look amazing and I was lost for words for a moment.”

“Thank you,” you repeat. You fix the flap of his tuxedo jacket as you return the compliment. “And thanks for the dress. You have a weirdly good eye for what looks good on me.”

“When I saw the dress I just knew,” Jaehyun shrugs, eyes definitely on what the neckline exposes before they move up to your eyes. “Ready?”

On the way to the event, Jaehyun gives you a small rundown of what to expect.

“Most of the people you’ll meet are cool, they may talk your head off, though.”

“Nothing I’m not used to,” you shrug. Being a teacher calls for lengthy conversations you’d rather not participate in. “‘Most,’ though?”

“There are a few guys I’m personally not fond of and wouldn’t be working with them if it weren’t for my father’s connection.”

You nod. “I’m sure I can make interactions a little more digestible for you. I mean, that is why I’m here.”

“Just let me know if it becomes too much. I’m not opposed to leaving early.”

You’re sure you’ll be fine, but you hum in affirmation.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“My restaurant.” Of course he owns a restaurant. “When we have special occasions I shut it down to the public and we have our events there.”

You lightly hit his shoulder. “You’ve had a restaurant this whole time but let me struggle to pick somewhere to eat for the last couple of months?”

He grins, grabbing the hand that hit him to kiss your knuckles apologetically.

“It’s cute to watch,” he admits, laughing at the glare you send him.

It’s almost as if Jaehyun turns into a different person when the two of you step into the restaurant. Instead of the shy smiles you’re used to, you’re met with the sight of his grin and lidded eyes as he returns the greetings he gets while you walk past the bar where most of the men are seated and standing around to wherever he leads you, left hand on the small of your back. Even the smile he gives a few that show all his teeth don’t give you the usual feeling you’ve grown accustomed to. The usual warmth in your chest travels down to your abdomen as you witness him in his element, around his employees, business partners, and others. You smile and follow Jaehyun’s lead perfectly, but in the breaks between speaking to random people you catch yourself looking at him from the corner of your eye.

Yeah, you like this side of him.

You’re led to a table and Jaehyun pulls a seat out for you to settle down in.

“What do you want to drink?” he asks, hands still on the back of your seat from pushing it in, bent down to your level. And your body decides to become hyper aware of his proximity, of his minty breath fanning against your ear. You turn to catch his gaze, and he licks his lips.

“What are my options?”

His response is a deep hum, followed by: “I’m sure I’ve got whatever you have a taste for.”

You squint a little, observing him.

“Yeah?” you ask. And the grin you receive in return confirms your suspicions. He’s flirting.

“Whatever you’re getting is fine.”

“I’ll be back. No one should bother you,” he promises before he’s off to the bar.

No one is apparently a tall man with long, black hair that’s pushed back and an undercut. And a smile you can’t decipher.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, beautiful,” is the first thing he says, leaning his weight onto the hands he sets on the table. “I’m John.”

You look him up and down. “Nice to meet you, John.”

You’re stuck on introducing yourself, unsure if he really knows who you are. You remember his face when vague introductions were made, but he’s the only one that has done more than just stare and smile at you. You briefly look in the direction Jaehyun left to and he has a flute in each hand, caught up talking to an older man.

“I’m not trying to get at you,” he reassures you with a laugh. “I take it you’ve never heard of me and I’m hurt, honestly. I’m Jaehyun’s best friend.”

That explains a lot.

“John.” Champagne is set down in front of you, but before you can thank him, he’s speaking to your new acquaintance. “Let’s not do that thing you like to do.”

“Am I not important to you?” Johnny asks dramatically after they give each other a hug. Jaehyun ignores him as he sits down beside you “You’d think after all these years I’d come up in conversation with your–”

“You’re doing the thing,” Jaehyun interrupts. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

John’s smile is slick but he leaves without another word. But not without a wink that makes Jaehyun’s face somehow get straighter.

“He’s your best friend?” you ask before taking a sip of your drink. It’s dry going down, and you make a mental note to get something else once you’ve finished this flute.

“I question myself on it, too.” The drink goes down smoother for Jaehyun. “I don’t know what I’d do without him, though.”

“You’re a big question mark,” you laugh lightheartedly.

“What do you mean?”

“I just don’t know much about you.”

There’s a moment of silence as he slowly nods his head, and you almost regret saying anything. While your best friend was right about mysterious guys being your type, you’d think after being in each other’s company for so long you’d know a little more about him than just the basics and his everyday life. With the tiny crush you’ve acquired, your curiosity has increased, but you’ve never brought the matter up because you almost feel as if it isn’t your place to.

“What do you want to know about me?” he finally asks. His flute is set on top of the table and he leans into you, giving you his full attention.

“Whatever you’re comfortable sharing. Nothing crazy like your childhood trauma or anything but I’m just interested in you as a person.”

You enjoy the small details you learn about him each time you meet, you just want to go a little deeper than the surface. You’ve gotten the chance to hear about his family and his relationship with them a little, but you’d like more.

You don’t think you’re doing this sugar baby thing correctly. You probably shouldn’t be so invested in who Jaehyun is as a person outside of his status and money wiring. You definitely shouldn’t be liking him to the extent that you do.

The man beside you hums, rolling his lips together like everything you’ve said since John left requires extra processing, which leads you to down more of the dry drink anxiously.

He ends up scooting his chair closer to yours.

“I’ve been told I’m boring,” he confesses.

“Quiet, maybe,” you correct him. “But I doubt you’re boring.”

“Ask me whatever you’re interested in knowing about and I guess I’ll let you be the judge. Does that sound good to you?”

Nervousness transmutes into excitement that you have to bite down, literally biting your lip to stop yourself from smiling at this little breakthrough.

“Sounds great.”

“You have to reciprocate, though,” is Jaehyun’s condition. “I definitely want to get to know more about you, too.”

More of Jaehyun’s close friends and the employees that aren’t afraid to walk up to him and speak about something other than work come by the pair of you, and you’re perfectly content with mostly just sitting on the sidelines and observing. Dinner won’t actually start for another half hour, apparently, so now is when everyone is mingling. Comments have been made about how the two of you look good together, even some separate compliments about you, but mainly directed at him.

An older man puts a hand on Jaehyun’s shoulder, making his presence known and stealing his attention away from the conversation Jaehyun is having with an intern that so clearly looks up to him. One glance up tells you all you need to know about this man. Jaehyun’s smile turns fake.

“Mr. Park,” he greets politely, nodding to the intern to silently tell him they’ll talk later while standing, hovering over the elder.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on the big deal again,” Mr. Park says, gaze trailing down to you. You throw him a polite smile. “And to say hello to the beautiful woman you’ve been hiding from us.”

And there it is. The compliment is completely different from the one John indirectly gave you, his tone enough to create an uncomfortable atmosphere. You slowly rise to your feet anyway, extending your hand towards him to shake. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Park.”

“And she’s got manners,” he continues. Your hand is grasped, but lifted up to his mouth, and he plants a kiss onto your knuckles. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

As you pull your hand away, you introduce yourself. You discretely wipe your hand off onto your dress and intertwine your fingers with Jaehyun’s.

“A gorgeous name for a gorgeous woman.” The line is as outdated as he is but you keep a pleasant expression on, thanking him. “Why is this my first time seeing you?”

“Conflicting schedules,” you say. “But I had to come and celebrate with him this time.”

“You’ve caught a good one,” the elder man winks. “Better keep her close. Never know who’d want to take your place.”

His laugh annoys you. The sound is high pitched and almost taunting.

“Very unlikely they’d get the chance to, but thank you for the compliment.” You lift your hand to caress the nape of Jaehyun’s neck, getting him to look down at you. “He’s perfect, how could anyone else even compare?”

And there’s the shy smile you’re familiar with.

“Yeah?” Jaehyun asks, so you continue to milk your performance for Mr. Park.

“Mhm,” you nod, letting your hand rub down his chest, intensifying your gaze. Nothing but solid muscle is felt beneath the fabric of his shirt. “You know how good you make me feel.”

Jaehyun doesn’t have a comeback, but his smile widens as he lets go of your hand to slide it to the small of your back, pulling you even closer to him—he smells so good. He cranes his neck down until his nose brushes your own. Having him this close, his breath fanning over your mouth, your own breathing gets heavier. At the corner of your eye, the older man continues to watch the interaction, and when you lift your chin just a little to brush your glossy lips against Jaehyun’s, your audience finally takes the hint, telling you it was nice to meet you and congratulating your date before briskly walking off.

“Was that too much?” you whisper when it’s just the two of you. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

Jaehyun laughs, more to himself, caressing your exposed back with his thumb. “Not at all.”

“I don’t like him,” you confess, hand still on his chest. Peeling your body from his own isn’t an appealing thought right now. He doesn’t make a move to do so, either. “He made me uncomfortable so I had to return the feeling. I hope he enjoyed the show.”

“So I’m perfect, huh?” The brunet prompts, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re the perfect package,” you say matter of factly. “You’re kind, respectful, successful, and handsome with a great head on your shoulders…” The sight of his tongue swiping over his lower lip–licking over your peach flavored gloss– momentarily distracts you.

“Even though you don’t know much about me, you still think so highly of me?” Did his voice get even deeper somehow?

“I’m sure you’ve got your fair share of skeletons in your closet but who doesn’t? And after seeing you interact with everyone I can see why half of them look up to you.”

You can’t get your eyes off of the lower half of his face, can’t find it within you to care that he’s definitely noticed by now. Especially when he smiles, the skin around his nose creating what looks like whiskers.

“I guess I know who to go to whenever I doubt myself now, huh?”

Smoothing your hand back up to the nape of his neck, you hum. “I like to think I’m good at making people feel good.”

His tongue peeks out to wet his lips again before he clears his throat, hand slipping to your waist as he takes his time detaching from you. Your own hand drops pathetically. “Do you want another drink?”

“Just water, please.”

At his lack of presence, you sit back down, blinking in disbelief. Jaehyun’s a smart man. He has to know how him touching you like that—holding you like that—affected you. Every interaction makes you fall for him a little more, makes you desire him a lot more.

You close your eyes and sigh. “I like to think I’m good at making people feel good,” you mock yourself under your breath.

When you peek at Jaehyun while he’s at the bar, you notice he takes a moment to himself to take a deep breath, laughs to himself, and shakes his head before proceeding to get two glasses of the water you requested.

Spring break.

A week without having to wake up at the asscrack of dawn, without three periods of high schoolers getting on your damn nerves, in addition to a few teachers having sticks so far up their asses and other unorganized, difficult staff and faculty. Not as long as winter break but the weather is nicer and you can go to the beach to relax and unwind this year.

Taeyong’s girlfriend has a beach house that she told him to invite you to because she knows with your profession you’d highly appreciate the peace and quiet, and you agreed immediately, your bags packed containing mostly bathing suits and sundresses. A week at the beach where you don’t have to put much effort into doing your hair and makeup unless someone decides they want to go out for dinner? Perfect.

“Hellooo?”

Taeyong appears a few seconds after his greeting, holding up an untouched smoothie in one hand and a brown bag you’re sure has a muffin in it in the other one. Bless his soul.

He has a big smile on his face and the black rimmed sunglasses with red lenses that you got him for his birthday and a sweatsuit similar to the one you’ve got on.

“Aw, you wanna be like me.”

He rolls his eyes once he sees what you’re talking about. “Are you ready?”

You scan your bed. Toiletry bag, chargers and hair products and tools inside of your suitcase, check. Shoe bag, check. Accessories, check.

“Ready,” you nod, finishing up by zipping up your suitcase and shoe bag.

When he’s by your side he bumps your hip with his, telling you he’s got your bags and to just take what’s in his hands.

“I know you haven’t eaten yet,” he gives you a parental look and effortlessly picks your heavy ass suitcase up to settle it on the floor and extend the handle. “so I got you something small because Seulgi is cooking for us right now.”

You hum a thanks, slipping your slides on.

“Be good while I’m gone, okay?” you coo to Nala as you pick her up and hold her out in front of you. She lets out a tiny bark. “I’ll miss you too, sweetie.”

A kiss to the top of her furry little head before she’s free to roam around as she pleases.

“Don’t forget the alarm.”

“Yes, mother,” you mock, and when his mouth opens to ask another question you quickly add, “I texted Jisung the code and Nala’s schedule. Now go.”

When your music starts playing in the car, Taeyong side eyes you.

“You listen to the same three songs, Tae,” you deadpan.

He doesn’t even try to deny it, instead, starting up a conversation on what you’re not going to do to embarrass him since it’s your first time meeting his girlfriend.

Taeyong gently sets down all of the bags at the front door, then beckons you to follow him quietly.

Music is blasting and a feminine voice is singing along. When you two round the corner you’re greeted with the sight of hips moving side to side, her back to the two of you as she cooks.

There’s already plates set up at the table on the other side of the kitchen, and in the middle of the wooden tabletop, there’s a variety of sides, a bottle of wine that has recently become your favorite, and another bottle of sparkling water.

You stay put at the entrance of the kitchen while Taeyong sneaks up behind her, hands behind his back as he leans close to say something you can’t hear in her ear. Her voice cracks when she screams, body turning around to immediately fight him, fists positioned until she sees it’s just her boyfriend. She calls him a jerk and pouts, but then her arms are around his neck for a quick hug and kiss, eyes widening at something else he says before her attention snaps to you. A big smile takes over her face and she all but pushes him away to make a beeline for you.

“Will you be uncomfortable if I hug you right now?”

You blink. “No?”

She wastes no time to do just that, rocking you side to side with a sigh. “I’ve been waiting to meet you. Taeyong’s told me so much about you,” she laughs, giving you a big squeeze before letting you go. “Hi, I’m Seulgi. I asked Taeyong what you like to eat but he’s no help and he wouldn’t give me your number,” she rolls her eyes. “He said something about you being embarrassing.”

Not only is her beach house lovely, with a beautiful view of the beach that you haven’t even fully gotten to see yet, she’s gorgeous and kind. You like her already.

“I’m not picky,” you wave dismissively, Taeyong snorting, “nor am I embarrassing,” you direct a glare at your cousin when he passes on his way to get the luggage.

It would’ve been nice to have a chat or two with her before officially meeting.

“Let me show you your room.”

Seulgi grabs your hand softly and leads you up the stairs, makes a right then opens the second door on the left.

Huge bed with black and white sheets and a white comforter, huge tv on a black wooden dresser that matches the nightstand beside the bed.

“Sorry for how dark it is, my sister decorated it.”

Taeyong comes in and sets your bags in front of the bed, then he’s got an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“Closet is right there,” Seulgi points to a door on the right side of the main door, “bathroom is here,” her finger flies to the other side of the room. “If you need a nice bath you’re free to use the one in our room, just let me know so we can get out of your way. Any questions or concerns?”

“Nope,” you take another glance around the room. “I’m good. Thank you for letting me stay here.”

She gently swats a perfectly manicured hand at you. “Please, if you ever need to get away from the city for a couple of days just let me know, you’re always welcome to stay.”

You might be looking at her the same way Taeyong is right now. Completely enamored.

A timer sounds from downstairs, Seulgi perking up.

“Food’s done. Come down whenever you’re ready,” she says to you and Taeyong, patting him on the back before heading downstairs.

“I love her.”

Taeyong laughs with a nod, taking a seat at the foot of your bed. “Yeah, me too. I knew the two of you would hit it off but I was still nervous.”

“When you fuck up I’m snatching her,” you say with a wide smile as you walk out of the room.

Lunch goes amazingly. There’s endless conversation filled with learning about each other and you only try to embarrass your cousin once just because of the lecture in the car, to which you earned a flick on the forehead for, but Seulgi pinched his arm for you. You get both sides of the story on how they met at the gym, your cheek in your palm as you watch the couple reminisce with banter and heart eyes, appreciating the display of love.

Clothes get changed into bathing suits and then the three of you are walking barefoot in the sand, headed closer to the ocean. The walk is short, and only a couple of minutes later towels and lounge chairs are spread out, the cooler filled with water bottles and wine coolers is set down somewhere in between, and all of you are lying down under the sun.

The star is blazing and you’ll never admit it to him, but you’re thankful Taeyong asked if you applied sunblock before you stepped outside (“I’m a responsible adult, Taeyong. Of course I did.”). The breeze against your skin is pleasant combined with the bright, hot sun.

Conversation naturally slips into silence, Seulgi on her stomach to tan her back, Taeyong up and becoming one with the ocean because he takes astrology seriously now. You check the texts Jisung sent less than an hour ago, updating you on how the walk with Nala went and that he ate all of your grapes with a smiling emoji. Your eyes roll when you tell him to eat all he wants.

A soft call of your name takes your attention off of your phone and directs it to the woman the voice came from.

“Yeah?”

“Are you in a relationship?”

You snort. “I’m very single.”

An intrusive thought of Jaehyun surfaces, but you push it out just as fast as it arrived.

She frowns.

“I’ll try to keep down the affection with Taeyong in front of you. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

Even with her invitation, you’re the one that’s kind of interrupting a romantic vacation, whether they view it that way or not. Your plan is to be a ghost, chill on the beach and read as much as you can and let the couple do all of their couple activities without the thought of you being here until it’s time for dinner or any other group event.

“Don’t worry about me,” you smile, adjusting your sunglasses. “I don’t mind PDA.”

“Just let us know if we’re being gross, okay?”

You nod, but you doubt you’ll catch them being gross often with how you’ve planned your visit.

An hour after Taeyong snatched your phone out of your hand and dropped it in the sand beside you to throw you over his shoulder and bring you into the water with him, you’re exhausted and smell like salt. You don’t know if a shower has ever felt this good before. The water’s temperature is just right, the pressure is great, the loofah that was waiting for you is perfect, and it could also be the many wine coolers and shots you downed, but you feel amazing. The more it sinks in that you don’t have to deal with fifteen through eighteen-year-olds nor do you have to plan anything for them for the next six days because you already lost sleep making sure you had papers printed and powerpoints made a week in advance, but your students do have homework and study guides complete before Monday, the lighter your body feels. Oh, you’re going to sleep amazingly tonight.

A long swipe of your hand across the foggy mirror shows you an image of you looking the most content you’ve seen yourself in a while. Your skin is a little darker than when you first arrived and glowing, Eyes heavy from the drinks and sleepiness, the smallest of smiles playing on your lips.

Tightening your towel around you, you get to work combing your drenched hair out. There’s music playing from the speakers around the house, faint but loud enough to recognize the beat, your hips moving along to it. You squeeze some product into your hand then smooth it throughout the detangled half of your head before doing the same on the other side.

The calm atmosphere is ruined by your name getting called by a familiar yet unexpected voice and your body jumps because of it. The mirror has cleared up for the most part and when you lift your eyes from the reflection of your fingers in your hair to the reflection on the man in dark clothing you scream, bringing your hand to the secured knot that’s keeping your towel and turning around.

What the actual fuck.

“Shit, Jaehyun,” you place your free hand over your heart, exhaling loudly.

A loud call of your name from your cousin sounds from downstairs but you’re too busy staring at the man in front of you dumbly. He’s looking at you the same way. Heavy footsteps up the stairs end when two concerned faces pop up behind him before you can open your mouth and ask how the hell the two of you are in the same place right now.

“Oh,” Seulgi says, wide eyes moving back and forth between the two of you before she pushes Jaehyun into the room that you now know is behind the extra door you peeped before getting into the shower and her voice goes out as she asks, “when did you even get here?”

The look on Taeyong’s face shows he’s waiting for his girlfriend to be far enough away for him to ask, “Isn’t that-”

You nod. “Yep.”

“Come downstairs when you’re done?” Seulgi asks, popping her head back into the bathroom. Once you nod again, she pulls Taeyong away with her and shuts the door.

You finish up your hair and get dressed quickly. You don’t understand how the hell you ended up in this kind of coincidence, but your buzzed mind doesn’t bother to try to put any pieces together, especially since you’re on the way downstairs to get answers.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were on the way?” Seulgi asks from the kitchen.

“You knew I was coming…” Jaehyun’s deadpan voice makes you smile, but you straighten your face when you round the corner and get into their line of sight. You make your way beside Taeyong, whose eyebrows are pulled in as he stares at the side of the newcomer’s face. A touch of your hand on his arm relaxes his tense form and breaks his one-sided stare off, eyes soft when they land on you. Soon everyone’s attention is on you. Jaehyun doesn’t seem surprised anymore. More like he’s just taking in your reaction to everything, seeing how he should regard you.

“So I forgot to mention my cousin would be here,,” Seulgi starts with an awkward, apologetic smile. “And I forgot to mention you were coming,” she says, looking and pointing at you. She proceeds to introduce you and Taeyong to Jaehyun and vice versa.

You push yourself off the table and walk up to him, hand presented between you two for him to shake. “Nice to meet you, Jaehyun.”

His lips go thin before he lets out an amused breath through his nose. He grabs your hand and gingerly shakes it. “Likewise.”

A knock on the half-closed door grants you access to the view of Jaehyun slowly sitting up on his bed, one hand caressing his chin while the other holds his phone.

“So,” you hum, leaning against the doorframe. “Looks like we’re together this week after all.”

The other day he told you he’d be on vacation for a week so he couldn’t meet up with you, which was perfect because you were in the same situation, and now look at you. The cousin of the love of Taeyong’s life is the man you meet up with weekly. the man that adds money into your bank account weekly. You’ve sobered up since the bathroom incident and honestly, you’re pretty happy to spend more than a few hours at a time with him.

“All week, at that.”

“I’m excited,” you admit. “If it storms, your bed is fair game, right?”

Jaehyun shakes his head with a smile, but responds with: “I’ll keep the doors unlocked.”

When you knock on Jaehyun’s door the next day around noon, it takes a moment for him to grant your entrance, and when you open it he’s on his laptop.

“Is this not a vacation for you?” you tsk after catching a glimpse of the screen.

He lets out a deep chuckle. “It is, but-”

“No buts,” you interrupt him. “If it isn’t detrimental, I’d like your company on the beach.”

“So we’re not pretending we don’t know each other?”

You take a seat next to him on the edge of his bed.

“Taeyong was there the first night we met,” you admit, to which Jaehyun nods.

“You came prepared.”

“You could’ve been a creepy seventy-something year old man trying to get his dick wet,” you say, and he chuckles, nodding again. “I don’t think he’d say anything to Seulgi, honestly. But even if he did, we’re grown.” You shrug.

Jaehyun saves a document and exits out of it, closing his laptop to put it to the side. He finally looks at you for more than a quick second, and his gaze lingers on the bikini and the see-through cover up you have on.

“That’s a pretty color on you,” he compliments before getting up and walking to his suitcase.

“Thank you.” You watch him as he squats down to open his luggage, rummaging through his clothes until he pulls out a pair of swim trunks. In your internal excitement that you’ve successfully pulled him away from work to come to the beach with you, you fail to decipher what the expectant yet amused look on his handsome face translates to when he’s back to his full height.

“Are you comfortable?” Jaehyun asks, the corner of his mouth lifted. You open your mouth to question what he means but when he slowly lifts his shirt off, you understand. You nibble on the inside of your lip.

How bold do you want to be?

You’re on vacation with your sugar daddy, even if that wasn’t the original plan. In a beach house, alone—the couple went out to get more groceries because Seulgi got carried away yesterday in the kitchen. You know exactly how you feel about the man before you, and even though he’s still hard to read, his glances and touches either give you an idea of how he might feel, or they just make you delusional. You doubt it's delusion, though, if you’re being honest.

The contract, though.

“I’ll wait for you downstairs,” you finally say after a long moment of silently staring at one another. “Want me to pack any drinks for you?”

“It’s only noon.”

“You’re on vacation,” you counter, hand lingering on the door under the guise you’re just still having conversation. All of those hours in the gym have done him well.

“A couple of beers wouldn’t hurt, I guess.” He shrugs.

“There ya go,” you lilt, smiling widely, finally taking your leave.

You’re definitely going to make the most of this trip.

With only sunglasses and black swim trunks, Jaehyun makes his way towards you on the beach after a while. You’re in the midst of putting on sunscreen, struggling to reach the middle of your back.

“Do you need help?” he asks, sitting next to you on your lounge chair instead of the one you set up for him a couple of feet away.

“Please,” you exasperate. You hand him the bottle and turn your back towards him. He rubs the lotion onto your back with the perfect pressure, starting from your shoulders and gradually making his way down to your lower back. Head tilting to the side, you let out a hum of appreciation. “I just know you give good massages.”

“I’ve only given one or two,” Jaehyun admits, hands still going even though he’s covered basically every inch of your back. His fingers slip under the horizontal strap, spreading outward and grazing over the side of your breasts. “Always been on the receiving end.”

“Well,” you sigh, enjoying his lingering touch. “I’ll gladly be your test dummy. I’ve got some knots in the back of my neck and my feet could definitely use some TLC.”

Jaehyun chuckles, adjusting your bathing suit strings before handing you the bottle. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Do you need me to put some on your back?” you ask, happy to return the favor.

He thinks about it for a moment before he nods and turns. You shake the bottle and pop the cap open before squeezing the sunscreen onto the palm of your hand, throw the bottle to the side and rub your hands together before running them up his back.

“You talk about me,” Jaehyun laughs breathily when he shivers a bit at your touch. You hum in question, working your fingers into his shoulders, feeling the tense muscles and having the need to release some of the tension while you’re here. You appreciate how his muscles feel under his smooth skin. “Might have to start going to you for my bi-weekly massages instead of the spa.”

You enjoy spending time with him. You enjoy learning new things about him. You really enjoy the intimate moments the two of you share.

“I think that’s something we could arrange.”

Finishing up, you rub the residual sunscreen on your hands down his arms and give a squeeze, signaling the end of his impromptu massage.

“What’s the plan for the day?” Jaehyun asks once the two of you are laying side by side in the chairs.

“Sit in the sun for a while, get in the water for a while, drink until I feel like I’m one with the ocean, and leave once I’m burnt out,” you list for him. “You down?”

He nods. “I am.”

And when it’s time to get in the ocean, the waves are stronger than you thought they’d be. Nothing crazy, but with how deep you wanted to go, the water smacks into your face sometimes.

“Come here,” Jaehyun finally says after laughing at your cute struggle. He grabs your waist and tugs you into his body, and after you place your hands on his shoulders, he lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his waist.

The added height and being pressed against his toned body make the experience even better.

The rest of the time spent in the water goes by like this, not many words exchanged, but you lightly clinging onto him, his hold on you strong but not restricting, and the two of you just enjoy the surprisingly almost empty beach together. You leave when both of you are raisined, and come back to the beach house to Taeyong finishing preparing lunch.

–

You can’t remember the last time you were in a jacuzzi.

Taeyong urged you to get in because he wanted to spend some alone time with Seulgi while they cooked dinner for everyone and you had no qualms. You made sure to grab a bottle of wine and a wine glass before getting kicked out, though.

You’re in the middle of pouring your second glass when you hear the sliding door open and close, then Jaehyun is walking towards you with a towel slung over his shoulder and blue swim trunks sitting low on his hips.

Is he genuinely this oblivious to how captivating he is?

“I got kicked out,” he tells you, kicking his flip flops off.

“Join the club.” You raise your glass towards him before taking a sip.

You watch him as he climbs in, settling down on the opposite side of where you’re sitting, arms spread out to his sides. There’s a still moment where you observe one another, a slight smile on his face while you continue to drink from your glass.

“I’m surprised you’re not sick of that wine by now.”

“It’s been my favorite since the night we met,” you admit, hiding a shy smile behind the rim of your glass. “I’m almost out of the stock you gave me.”

“I’ll send you some more when we get back,” Jaehyun promises. “Have you tried the white?”

You shake your head. “I didn’t want to open a bottle and waste it if I didn’t like it.”

“I want you to try it. It’s my favorite.“ He stands up and climbs back out of the hot tub.

Jaehyun disappears and he’s in and out quickly with the bottle, bottle opener, and glass in hand, this time sitting closer to you when he’s back in the water. He fills up half of his glass before holding it out to you. Setting your own down, you grab Jaehyun’s and take a sip, swishing it around in your mouth to get rid of the other wine’s taste and swallowing before taking another to really taste it.

“I like it.” You nod.

“Clearly not as much as the red,” Jaehyun laughs, taking the glass back to drink it himself.

You don’t, but you might also just like it because he took it upon himself to get out of the jacuzzi when he’d only been sitting in it for a couple of minutes just to go back into where he got kicked out of, just so you can taste his favorite wine. Granted, Jaehyun is drinking it himself, but your mind focuses on how he possibly just got softly chewed out for going back in for you.

“Why are you still single?” you practically sigh, not quite understanding how a man of his status, with his looks, kindness, and personality hasn’t been swept up and married by now.

Jaehyun’s brow raises mid-sip.

“I could ask you the same,” he retorts instead of giving a real answer. You’ve known him long enough to know he won’t just give you the information you’re searching for, you’ve got to give him a piece of you before he returns the gesture. And you have no qualms.

“Well,” you start, turning towards him more, kicking your feet up so your heels rest upon his lap. He doesn’t even blink at the change of position. “I’m taking the time to build myself and the life I desire without too many distractions. I’ve had ideas and goals for myself and my future for years, but when I’d get into a relationship I always ended up slacking and pushing those goals aside for later. I’m now at a place in my life where I love myself enough to not let me sweep my goals under the rug for the love of someone else. I’m still young, I have time to find love after I’ve established myself to an extent that I’m more than content with.”

Jaehyun hums, setting his now empty glass aside before your foot is in his hands with his thumbs digging into your sole firmly.

“Do you not think it’s possible to establish yourself and find love in the process?” he prompts.

“That hasn’t been the case thus far,” you chuckle, the sound trailing into a quiet groan. Whatever pressure point he just pressed into feels like heaven. “You sure you’ve never given a massage?”

The brunet flashes you a satisfied smile, shaking his head softly. “Sounds like your previous partners were distractions rather than supporters.”

“My taste in men was terrible,” you agree instantly. “I was always the one to love more and make more sacrifices for love while I got gaslit and mediocre sex in return.”

You’re saying more than you’d intended to, and you definitely blame your slight intoxication, but it’s actually nice to talk about this with someone who isn’t your cousin or your best friend. You don’t mind opening up to Jaehyun at all. His presence has been warm, inviting since day one, and he doesn’t give the impression to be one to judge.

Jaehyun lifts your leg to dig into your calf muscle, resting your foot on his chest. “You have pretty feet.”

You laugh at his compliment, raising a teasing brow. “A foot fetish, huh?”

The corners of his mouth fight to not lift. “When was your last relationship?”

“About a year and a half ago.” You set your glass next to his and fit your cheek into your propped up hand. “I’ve been abstinent since.”

Jaehyun’s eyes grow big. “Really?”

“It’s not that hard.” You shrug. “Definitely gets boring, though. But that discipline has allowed me to get further with my passions than ever before. Well, the discipline plus you.”

Jaehyun’s pretty fingers just so happen to find another spot, this time in your calf, that makes you practically whimper from the pleasurable pain. The moment of eye contact that comes right after lets you know you didn’t bite it down enough to mute the sound, as well as the way his movements falter.

Clearing his throat, he asks, “From funding?”

“Mostly, yeah. But you’re a really disciplined person who many look up to. You even work on vacation,” you tsk lightheartedly. “The energy has rubbed off on me a little.”

“Being around you has definitely made me cut back on how much time I put into work.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

He shakes his head. “Not at all. I’ve gotten to actually spend uninterrupted time with Seulgi. And bond with Taeyong for the first time in what? Three years?”

Now that he’s mentioned it, you realize just how much more frequent your meetups are in comparison to when you’d first met. You see him every week, and while every date isn’t full of long conversations and massages, he rarely checks his emails or ends nights sooner than expected because of early mornings ahead.

“So basically I was a great addition to your life.” You nod, wiggling your leg out of his grasp then presenting your untouched foot for him to start working on. “Okay–your turn to talk.”

He sighs deeply, gaze dropping from your face to the task at hand.

“I’m similar to you, in regards to being the one that loves more than being loved. I’ve always tried to be cautious because I’m a bit of an easy target.”

“How so?”

“I come from generational wealth and I love giving,” Jaehyun elaborates for you, glancing up at you briefly before watching his fingers knead into your calf. “Even with being cautious, I ended up falling for women who pretended to love me to reap the benefits of being associated with me.”

You hum, frowning a little. You’ve dealt with similar situations, only instead of being used for your money, you were used for your body and loyalty.

“I was really in love with my ex, even Seulgi befriended her. One day Seulgi overheard her talking to someone on the phone, making plans to get flown out by some professional athlete. I don’t even know the whole story but I broke up with her and blocked her on everything before she could try to explain.”

The situation still hurts him, it’s evident by the sadness that washes over his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Jae.” You pout. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Jaehyun gives you a small smile. “In hindsight, it was obvious she didn’t actually like me. I just liked her too much to leave without a reason, I guess.”

Story of your life.

“How’d you get into this business then?” you ask, gesturing between the two of you.

“Like I said, I love giving. I love spoiling someone, typically only one person at a time, though.” Not that you ever really questioned or even thought about it before this very moment, a wave of warmth passes through your chest at knowing you’re the only one that gets to have these moments with Jaehyun. “And my friend has had a few babies and recommended it. I get to spoil someone–you, without having to assume you love me for me and not just my money and without getting my heart broken. Plus the benefits of having someone by my side at events.”

“Am I your baby?” you lilt, cheesing at the way the male fights a stupid grin.

“Yes,” he agrees easily. “You are my baby and I think we got lucky for this to be our first time.”

You pull out of his hold to sit beside him, propping your elbow up to fit your cheek into your palm, and face him with a grin that tells him you’re about to drag this. “So I can actually call you daddy now? Because I really like how you just called me your baby.��

“If that’s what you want to do,” he laughs it off, moving to pour himself another half glass. “I’m not opposed.”

Your brows lift in surprise.

“So you have a foot fetish and a daddy kink?” you tease.

“How much have you drunk tonight?”

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.”

He scoffs behind his glass and mumbles, “I enjoy it more than I probably should.”

You let your grin reach your eyes as you just watch him take gulps instead of his usual sips. You’re getting somewhere now and there’s no way you’re going to let the moment slip through your fingers.

“There’s a lot more to enjoy,” you tell him, taking the glass out of his hand to finish the little amount of liquid inside. You like the flavor a little more than before.

Brown eyes follow the trail of your tongue as you lick off a droplet of wine from your bottom lip, and you know you’ve got him right where you want him.

“Is that so?”

“It’s up to you if you want to find out,” you tell him, still giving him time to reject your advances. Being so close to finally getting a taste of what you’d been wanting has your heart beating faster than before, and the only thing on your mind is finally crossing this line you’ve been straddling.

“Maybe a preview.”

You sit up to lean into him, hooking a hand behind his neck to pull him down to your level. Testing the waters, you press a soft kiss to his lips, but when he presses back with no hesitation, you easily slot your lips with his. They’re soft and careful, just like the hand that comes up to your side to pull you even closer.

You almost sigh into the kiss after watching his mouth as he spoke for the last couple of months, tilting your head to deepen it. Jaehyun easily follows, letting you lead the pace and intensity.

After backing away a couple inches and observing him, Jaehyun’s eyes flutter open and show that he’d definitely be okay with continuing, but with your building desire for him, you don’t trust yourself to lean back in and end the exchange with just an innocent kiss. You did sign a contract after all.

So you get up, carefully stepping out of the hot tub, grabbing the towel you brought out. You wrap the white cotton around your body and head to the back door, slide it open and walk inside. It smells good, and you let the couple know as much when you’re walking past the kitchen to make it upstairs quickly before you get fussed at.

A cold shower ought to do it.

Maybe you and Jaehyun should talk about what happened in the jacuzzi last night.

You didn’t trust yourself to carry on a conversation after the moment you shared, with his eyes all lidded and lips red and just waiting for you to lean back in a repeat the action. At the dinner table there were silent glances, mostly his eyes zooming in on your mouth as you spoke then meeting your eye when he got caught.

Everyone did their own thing today for the most part. Taeyong woke you up and you all had breakfast as a group, but after that, your cousin and his girlfriend said they’d be back later and walked out of the house. They came back when it was about to be dark.

Jaehyun claimed he had some work that he actually couldn’t wait until getting back into the office to do and disappeared into his room, leaving you to enjoy your second to last full day at the beach house by yourself. You sat out on the beach for hours until the sun exhausted you, finished your book, had a long FaceTime call with Sooyoung as you cooked and ate lunch, then took a nap until Taeyong and Seulgi got back in.

You’d caught maybe two glimpses of your sugar daddy throughout the day before dinner, and while he conversed with you all, there was still something off.

A loud crack of lightning jolts you out of your thoughts as you lay on your back in bed. Followed by thunder a few seconds later. You blink up, practically glaring at the sky like you could see it through the white ceiling.

Heavy rainfall begins.

You sigh deeply, but then the dramatic exhale is cut short when you remember the short interaction you had with the man on the other side of the bathroom your first night here. You slip your robe onto your body, slide into your slippers and grab your phone before walking through the bathroom and knocking on the door opposite of yours.

It’s silent on the other end, even after another round of knocks, but the door gives in when you twist the knob experimentally. The sight of Jaehyun with his back against his headboard and laptop on his lap in dim lighting isn’t a shocking one. He’s got AirPods in, nodding his head to the beat of whatever song is playing, and you guess they’re on noise cancellation mode when you call out his name.

In your best attempt to not startle Jaehyun since his peripheral vision is blocked by his glasses, you pat the bed to get his attention, and that does the trick. His head quickly turns in your direction, and when he catches your gaze, he plucks one of his AirPods out.

You point to the window to his right. “It’s storming.”

“It is,” he says matter-of-factly with a nod. After a moment of silence, his facial expression morphs into one of understanding. “Oh. It is. ”

“Is your bed still fair game?” you ask, nervous around him for the first time since you two met. “I won’t interrupt,” you gesture at his laptop.

“I was just finishing up, actually.”

You take that as a yes.

He saves whatever he was working on before shutting the technology down and tucking in under his bed. His glasses come off and are set on his nightstand. You kick your slippers off as he does so, shrugging off your robe to drape it over the chair at the desk in the corner.

When you turn back towards the bed, Jaehyun’s giving your short, silky pajama set a onceover, averting his gaze when he realizes you’ve noticed and flipping the corner of the comforter over as an invitation for you to make yourself comfortable. And you do just that.

“Not judging,” Jaehyun disclaims. “But you’re genuinely afraid of storms?”

Pausing in the midst of snuggling under his covers, you check to see if he is judging or not. His expression is neutral, so you’ll take his word.

“Yep.” You pop the ‘p’, getting back to getting comfortable. “Just the loud ones like tonight.”

All Jaehyun does is nod in understanding.

The two of you have had your fair share of silence while together, but up until right now, the silence has never been loud. He’s not acting standoffish or anything, but his lack of eye contact is something you’re not used to. And his body language is similar to when you’d first met.

You know you should say something because you know it’s about last night and you were the one who initiated the kiss, but now that you’re here, in his bed beside him, you kind of just want to pretend like it didn’t happen if he isn’t going to mention it himself. Is that the right thing to do? You doubt it.

But is that exactly what you’re about to do? Absolutely.

“When’s the last time you shared a bed with a woman?” you ask, turning towards his still seated up body with perfect posture.

“Some months,” he confirms your suspicions.

“Do you snore?”

He shakes his head. “I do not.”

Another bout of silence.

“Are you uncomfortable with me in your bed?” you finally prompt. And when Jaehyun looks at you in confusion, you gesture at the clear difference in how the two of you are positioned. “Or are you just not ready to go to sleep yet?”

“No you’re fine,” Jaehyun reassures you, standing up in the process. “I just haven’t gotten ready for bed yet.”

You nod towards the bathroom. “I’ll be here.”

A good ten minutes later Jaehyun’s back in his room, jeans and t-shirt gone and now shirtless with loose shorts on. You put your phone down on the nightstand and turn towards his side of the bed in time with him slipping under the covers.

“Do you need me to keep the light on?”

You shake your head. “You can turn it off.”

Then it’s pitch black, not even the moonlight peeking through the blinds or curtains. And a loud crash of lightning sounds, making your body convulse.

You laugh it off, though unable to see the worried expression you’re being given.

“How can I make this less scary for you?” Jaehyun prompts after a moment, voice low and hesitant.

“How tired are you?”

“Barely.”

“Distractions always work,” you supply. Usually you’d put noise cancellation headphones in when you’re alone because this is kind of an embarrassing fear to have so no one really knows about it. Taeyong was aware when you were kids, but as far as you know, he thinks you’ve outgrown the fear. You used the storm as an excuse to come see Jaehyun and get rid of the air between the two of you but you’d only thought as far as just being in the same room as him.

“Which kind?”

You shrug. “We can talk. Watch a movie or something. Being held always helps, too.”

“We can touch on what happened last night.”

You’re actually surprised he brought it up himself.

“What about last night, exactly?”

Jaehyun lets out an unamused exhale through his nose. “Let’s not play dumb.”

The tone you just received is new and it admittedly does something to you.

Here you are, comfortable in bed with the man of your desires, who’s only clad in shorts. There’s really nothing to talk about, in your opinion. You both wanted what happened last night and you want it again. Right now.

You scoot closer to his warm body, your knees gently colliding with his thighs. Jaehyun stays still, even when you reach out, using the slight sight of his silhouette as a guide to run a hand down his shoulder to his defined chest, your fingertips brushing against his nipple.

“I’m not,” you tell him, letting your hand continue down his torso. “A few things took place last night.”

“But you know–”

“I remember you calling me your baby,” you interrupt. Your digits stop when they get to the waistband of his bottoms. “Which I enjoyed. A lot.”

Jaehyun’s resolve starts to crumble. He doesn’t say anything, allowing you to continue your recall of last night’s events along with your light touches, which are now going back up his stomach.

“And then I gave you something to enjoy. Is that what you want to talk about?” You curl your hand around the side of his neck, playing with the hairs at his nape. Jaehyun relaxes more into your touch, but you receive no answer to your question. “We could pretend it never happened, if you want.”

“I don’t,” he finally says, and you assume he’s responding to the suggestion.

“Or it could happen again.” You finish the thought, moving your thumb to brush it against his pouty bottom lip. “But I don’t think there’s much more to talk about, Jae.”

A strong hand pulls you into his body by your back before lips crash into yours. You smile as you let him control the kiss, satisfied with breaking him enough for him to initiate it. Your fingers go back into Jaehyun’s hair, nails lightly scraping his scalp as you open your mouth for his searching tongue. His mouth nor his hold are rough, just firm, and you practically melt into him.

His kisses are noisy, the sound of his lips smacking against yours practically echoing in the spacious room. The rainfall is still heavy but the crashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder sound further away than before.

He lets out a stuttered breath at the tug of his scalp, nipping your bottom lip in retaliation as his hand leisurely slips down to the back of your knee to hike your leg up around his waist.

You tilt your head up to catch your breath and Jaehyun uses the opportunity to use his nose to guide him down to your neck before pressing open mouthed kisses over a sensitive pulse point. And when you quietly moan, it only spurs him on to circle his tongue around it.

Whimpering out his name, you pull him flush against you by your leg and the hand in his hair. He continues to focus on that spot on your neck, nipping and sucking lightly but with enough bite to have your silk begin sticking to the apex of your thighs. And it’s almost like he can tell, with how his hand slides across the smooth fabric over your hips to rest on your ass, the tips of his fingers centimeters away from the mess he’s creating.

Using his hair, you guide his lips back up to yours for a slower, wetter kiss that you lead this time. And Jaehyun just follows, letting you suck on his tongue as he gropes you, unintentionally rubbing over right where you want him and pulling a gasp out your mouth. You push back to feel more and this time it’s intentional on both of your parts, the tip of his finger shallowly dipping into your silk clad entrance.

Your moan brings him back to reality, it seems, because soon his hand is slowly retracting, finding the side of your face to give you a couple more kisses that clearly signal the end of the moment. You want to pull him back in when his body starts to retract, want to settle on top of him and go further, but you don’t.

You can’t.

There’s some rummaging and the light of the television screen ahead illuminates the room as you wrap your head around the moment that just passed.

“What movie do you want to watch?” Jaehyun asks in a rough voice that makes your stomach turn. His body turned so that he’s laying on his back, one arm behind his head while the other scrolls through streaming services.

“Uh.” You clear your throat. “Something funny, I guess.”

He chooses a romantic comedy from the early 2000s and pulls you back into him, wrapping an arm around you so you can rest your head on his chest.

The storm has calmed down by now, but your mind is anything but calm.

Your eyes slowly flutter open and it takes a moment to realize your surroundings are different from what you’ve gotten used to this past week. And then you’re aware of a weight draped over your waist, and you remember the storm, the kiss, and the cuddling.

The digital clock on the nightstand reads 10:40 a.m and from a glance behind you, Jaehyun is still asleep. You’re usually awake and downstairs an hour earlier than this, and he’s always drinking a cup of coffee when you make it to the kitchen.

You do feel well rested.

It’s easy to slip out of his hold and get your day–your last full day here– started. You take a shower, throw on a matching short set and head downstairs, meeting Taeyong and Seulgi in the kitchen.

“Sleep well?” Taeyong asks, handing you a mug.

“I did.” You nod. You pour some coffee into the ceramic, followed by creamer and agave. “The storm put me to sleep.”

Your cousin eyes you for a moment and you sip from your mug, raising a brow.

“You wanna join me on the beach today?” Seulgi prompts, cutting the silent communication off and turning your attention to her. “Let the guys bond while we have our own day?”

Jaehyun rounds the corner and enters the kitchen at that moment, brow raised at his cousin’s last words. Taeyong also hands him a mug, the mug Jaehyun’s used every morning, to which the brunet thanks him for.

“Is that okay with you?” you ask, momentarily distracted by your sugar daddy sleepily rubbing his bare chest as he fills his cup with coffee. You figure she’d already run this plan by Taeyong. Jaehyun nods, sending you a gentle smile.

You return the nod and give your attention back to Seulgi. “Sounds perfect. What do you have planned?”

The pair of you end up walking along the shore, picking up the prettiest seashells you can find. It’s nice to bond with her without anyone else around, though it was quiet at first.

“Has Jaehyun been treating you well?” she asks, catching you off guard.

You’re not sure if she means during your stay here or in general, if Taeyong eventually let her know, so you just nod and answer as vaguely as possible. “He has. He’s very kind.”

“I was a bit nervous he’d be his usual uninterested self but I had hope he’d be a good host to you,” Seulgi admits with a relieved laugh. “He’s not the most social, though he does seem to talk to you pretty easily.”

“It’s my charm.” You flip your hair playfully. “Working with kids, you’ve got to be likable and easy to talk to. But yeah, he’s been great company.”

You bend down at the sight of a really pretty shell with pink on it, dusting it off to examine if it’s worth taking back with you before putting it in your little bag.

“I know you mentioned not dating anyone, but are you interested? Like, are you going out on dates and stuff or just not feeling it at all right now?”

“I’m going on dates,” you tell her. You technically go on dates with Jaehyun, “but I’m not looking to be in a relationship just yet. If it happens organically I’m not opposed, but it’s not exactly high on my list at the moment.”

She hums in understanding and nods, then changes the subject to how she doesn’t know where her mental health would be without this beach house because it’s her happy place.

Tonight is your last night of freedom. The only connection you’ve had to your work life for the last week is Jisung with his updates. He’s decided to send you daily pictures of your baby and they make you miss her a little more.

The men took it upon themselves to make dinner and it was ready by the time you and Seulgi got back in, the sun almost completely set. You appreciate how almost every meal you’ve eaten since being here has been as a group at the table, barely any phone usage (Jaehyun stopped checking his notifications so often, deciding to wait until everyone was done in the kitchen–all it took was a stern look from you when he grabbed it as soon as it pinged one night), just conversation and laughter.

It’s planned for you all to come back during your next break from work, which will be during the summer, and it works out perfectly for everyone else.

You don’t live close enough to a body of water you could submerge into, so on this last night, you’re taking advantage of the jacuzzi again.

The couple went upstairs soon after dinner to watch a movie, taking popcorn with them and all. They invited you and Jaehyun, but you told them your plan for the night and Jaehyun just declined.

He’s probably doing last minute work or just watching something on tv or his phone, but you’d prefer his company right now. So you grab your phone off of the side table and scroll to his message thread.

[10:01pm] you: Come join me in the jacuzzi?

You wait for a response for a couple of minutes, but when you don’t get one, you just put your phone back with a small sigh. But then you get bored and pick your phone back up to scroll through your explore page.

A few minutes into scrolling, the back door slides open and closed, and Jaehyun’s making his way towards you with swim trunks and a towel when you take a look behind you.

“I thought you might not join me tonight,” you admit, putting your phone aside, for good this time.

He shakes his head, dropping his towel and phone on the table before stepping inside the jacuzzi.

“When have I ever not given you what you wanted?”

At your silence, Jaehyun chuckles, settling down at a distance that isn’t far but far enough in your opinion. Especially after how close you two got last night.

That’s actually your answer to his question that you guess was supposed to be rhetorical.

“Last night.”

His brows furrow, genuinely confused.

And it’s not like you asked him for what you wanted. You didn’t tell him you wanted to go further than the kisses you shared. Didn’t ask him to stick his hand in your shorts and relieve you of what you’ve been missing for what didn’t feel like a long time until you were that close to him.

“You didn’t give me what I wanted last night,” you explain with a shrug. “But it’s nothing, really.”

Giving Jaehyun the time to make sense of your vague explanation, you extend your legs and flutter them in the water. You’re going to miss this place. You love your kids, but it’s so peaceful and lighthearted here. Well, for the most part.

“I don’t want to assume you’re alluding to what I think you are, but–” His voice is deeper than you’ve heard yet, almost strained.

“I am,” you hum. You’ve been shown that he wants you in similar ways that you want him. Last night was too much yet not nearly enough. “I know what I want and I’m almost positive you want the same thing.”

“You also know we signed a contract.”

“We’re also two consenting adults,” you remind him.

“Who signed a contract that states there won’t be a sexual relationship between us,” Jaehyun retorts. It’s been a while since you’ve seen such a stern, serious facial expression on his face. “A kiss or two is one thing but–”

“Jaehyun–”

“While I don’t think you’d try to blackmail me or send me to court for anything,” he interrupts right back, and you sigh as you listen to the rest of his statement, “a breach in the contract would allow for that and I have too much to lose.”

You take a steadying breath, understanding where he’s coming from and not taking his words personally. Of course you wouldn’t do that to him, you hadn’t even thought of that scenario until he just brought it up. All you know is he is the first man in over a year to make you want to break your abstinence and if there is a way around this you’ll take it.

“Answer this with a simple yes or no: is the feeling mutual?”

His pretty lips part to say something other than one of the two word options you gave him, getting him a pointed look.

He scrubs his face and sighs. “Yes.”

You didn’t think it would stress him out this much. You didn’t forget about or ignore the agreement between the two of you. You just wanted to let him know you’re definitely down for a revision.

“You can record me giving my consent, then we can make a new contract,” you suggest. He looks at you for a moment, like he’s processing. “If you want this to happen, get your phone. If you don’t, this conversation never happened.”

Jaehyun reaches behind him for his phone, taps the screen a few times before aiming the mic towards you. You state your first and last name, the date, and your consent while maintaining eye contact with him so he knows you do care about his career and reputation and your desires are sexual, even a little emotional. But not manipulative.

He stops the recording then puts the device back where he got it from. His body language is less tense than before, the air lighter between the pair of you. Jaehyun’s worries are gone, and that’s all you wanted.

“Any more qualms, Mr. Jung?”

By the way he licks his lips, you’re going to assume he likes being addressed as such.

“Just one,” Jaehyun begins, grabbing your calf to bring your foot to his lap, giving it the same treatment from the other night, digging his thumbs into the sole. You lift a brow, not actually expecting another issue. “Your abstinence.”

Bless him for caring about you and not just getting his dick wet. It only makes your desire for him grow.

His thumb presses into the arch of your foot and your back almost arches, a muted airy noise leaving your mouth. And by the glint in his eyes, he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“I already told you,” you exhale, relaxing your head back even more. “I know what I want. I can break it whenever I’d like.”

“You think I’m worth it?”

You do. You really do.

“I think you should show me that you are.”

Smiling that stupidly attractive half smile of his, Jaehyun pushes into that pressure point again, loving the way you visibly hold back a sound of pleasure, before your leg is lifted higher and higher, until his lips make contact with your heel in a sweet kiss.

“You think so?”

He just continues to kiss upward as you watch him in anticipation and desire.

“I knew it.” Your voice is a lot more airy than accusatory than you’d intended, Jaehyun’s brow lifting in response since his mouth is occupied with shallowly sucking your big toe into his mouth. “Knew you had a thing for feet.”

Jaehyun laughs, watching you just as closely as you watch him. His tongue swirls around the tip and your teeth worry at your bottom lip. There’s already a dark look in his eyes.

“I don’t.” He sets your foot down gently and his arms fall to his sides after one last peck to your arch, body language open and inviting. “I just have a thing for you.”

“Smooth.”

“Honest,” Jaehyun counters. “Come here.”

You sit up carefully and make your way to his side of the tub. You settle on his lap, stomach twisting. Images of your first meeting with him flash through your mind, and you almost laugh at how much has changed between the two of you since that night.

A strong grip on your hips pulls you out of your thoughts when they pull you in, aligning your hips and settling your core right atop his semi.

“Do you know how hard it was to pull away from you last night?” His deep voice is like velvet so close to your ears as he guides your hands up to rest on his shoulders.

“It broke my heart when you did.”

You wanted nothing more than his fingers knuckle deep in you when he brushed over your core, and now, with the position you’re in, you just want him inside of you.

Apologetic hands caress your hips and waist, up and down. “I know, baby.” You lick your lips, eyes getting heavy at how easily the term of endearment rolls off his tongue and how nice it sounds to be on the receiving end. “I had to, though.”

“I know,” you sigh.

He nudges your nose with his own before he slants his lips over yours. There’s more passion, more desperation in this kiss now that there are no hindrances. His tongue laps against your bottom lip before it licks your own, pulling a low whine out of you as the wet muscles circle around each other slowly, filthily. His hands aren’t hesitant, simply caressing as they please.

“You want me to make it up to you?”

He’s already forgiven, but you nod anyway. “How will you?”

“I’m going to Bali in two weeks and I could fly you out to meet me,” Jaehyun suggests, peppering open mouthed kisses down your neck. “You can get massages, eat fresh fruit off of platters in the pool, do yoga with baby goats–” he lists and you hum at the plan and the delicate way his lips and tongue caress your skin. “And whatever else you want while I’m in meetings then we’ll go out once I’m done. I’ll show you my favorite spots and we can go anywhere you’re interested in.”

You wouldn’t mind missing a few days of work for that.

“And what else?”

An amused smile spreads against your skin before Jaehyun nips at your neck, laving his tongue over the bite. “I’ll add more money for the next few weeks.”

“What else?” you pant, gripping his locks.

The knot keeping your bikini top together is slowly pulled apart until the man underneath you can peel it off of you and set it to the side, taking a quick moment to appreciate the sight of your breasts before he dips down to run his tongue over your nipple. The tip of his wet muscle circles the nub a few times, then it’s sucked into his mouth and your grip gets even tighter. The hand that isn’t pressing into the middle of your back to keep you close to his mouth comes up to the unoccupied side of your chest to squeeze and pull at.

It’s been so long since you’ve been touched like this, your hips slowly grind down against his hardening dick, trying to relieve the ache that’s only getting more intense the longer your breasts are fondled and sucked. You think you might actually come from this alone.

Jaehyun switches sides of your chest, repeating the same attention and affection. His tongue, lips, teeth, and fingers bringing increasing pleasure to your body.

“Jae–” you whimper desperately, grinding harder, the water surrounding your bodies splashing more intensely.

He hums, sliding his hand down your back and around to your hip, gripping the soft flesh to halt the movement of your lower half. He unlatches from your chest and lightly pushes you off of his lap and you blindly follow his lead as he guides you to turn and bend over the edge of the jacuzzi.

It’s quiet for a while after you bend over, so you look behind you to catch Jaehyun admiring the shape of your ass and hips and how easily you get into position for him. His hands grasp both cheeks, a low growl rumbling from his chest. Glancing down his body, you see his dick straining against the front of his swim trunks.

“I can make it up to you right here,” Jaehyun offers, breaking the tunnel vision he had on your shape to catch your eye. “Or we can go upstairs.”

A bed would be more comfortable and convenient, so you give it a moment of thought while the man behind you continues to trace the curves of your body. All he has to do is untie your bikini bottoms or push them to the side right now. Walking upstairs seems like too long of a process.

“Here,” you decide.

And that’s all you needed to say for him to pull the strings on both sides of your hips to unravel the bows you tied earlier. The soaked bottoms get discarder right along with your top. Two fingertips glide up and down your wet slit a couple of times before they draw slow, wide circles over your clit.

“You wanted me so bad you couldn’t wait long enough to go back inside?” Jaehyun’s guttural voice asks close to your ear, his body towering over your own, his chest against your back. He hardly gives you a chance to respond before the same fingers plunge into your pussy.

“Shit,” you hiss, nodding at his question. “Wanted you so bad.”

Wet kisses trail down your spine as his hand picks up a steady pace. It feels so good to have his thicker, longer fingers deep inside of you when your own digits don’t fill you up as well or hit the same spots.

The coil in your stomach tightens embarrassingly fast and your moans get harder to suppress when his speed and force increase. Your head hangs forward, eyes closed as you focus on the feeling Jaehyun is bringing you with your bottom lip caught between your teeth. It’s unlikely the couple will hear you out here, or anyone since there is a lot of space in between the beach houses. You just don’t want to chance it.

But when he carefully sinks a third finger into your cunt, it’s not as easy to control your volume.

“Oh, fuck,” you whine, body going tense.

“Too much?” Jaehyun asks, attentive yet still distracted by the way you suck his digits in. You shake your head. He starts back up slowly, giving you time to adjust and for the discomfort to pass before speeding up again when you moan in pleasure. “Need you to come around my fingers, okay baby?”

Jaehyun hums in content at how your lower half practically chases him when he barely pulls away. He reaches around with his other hand to find your clit, rubbing tight circles with a pressure that’s perfect, and he gets what he wants.

Your breath stutters when you feel the wave of intense pleasure wash over you, and you reach your first climax in a low groan, the noise swallowed by the jets in the hottub and the squelching of Jaehyun’s digits as they move up and down since the vice grip your walls have on them leave little room for him to thrust them in and out of you at this point. Your legs shake and your fingers fail to grip the slippery edge of the jacuzzi.

When you begin to come back down, sighs of content leaving your mouth, Jaehyun slowly retracts his hands and gives you a moment. There’s rustling behind you, and you sneak a glance back.

He’s naked and spreading your essence up and down his shaft, his bottom lip hanging in pleasure. He’s long and thick, but not in an intimidating way. You make a move to turn around, wanting to replace his hand with your own and your mouth, but his free hand stops you.

“I wanna suck your dick,” you tell him, yet still get back into position with your ass stuck out for him and your upper body supported by your forearms.

“Think you can wait until I’m about to come?” Jaehyun asks, rubbing his thumb over your entrance, catching the essence that drips from your fluttering hole. “Really wanna be inside you now.”

You nod again, fine with going with whatever he wants to do and how he wants to do it. You have no complaints about him being inside of you even sooner.

He pushes in slowly, enjoying the gasp you let out as well as the view of him disappearing into you inch by inch.

“Fuck fuck fuck.”

“You okay?”

“Perfect,” you say weakly, licking your dry lips.

Jaehyun grabs your hips, both to keep you in place and give him leverage, then begins slowly pulling out and thrusting back in until your walls have engulfed him fully.

He lets out a deep exhale, head tipped back, and gives you a moment to adjust to him. The way he fills you up is unlike anything you’ve felt before and you don’t want to wait any longer.

“Move.” You push back to emphasize that you’re ready. “Please.”

His movements are fluid yet careful, not too lost in his own pleasure with how snug and wet your walls are around him, but Jaehyun watches and listens so he can make sure you feel nothing but pleasure and enjoy every moment.

Your head hangs low as you get accustomed to the delicious stretch, the friction.

“Lift your knee up for me, baby,” Jaehyun gently commands, tapping the back of your thigh.

You settle your knee beside your elbow, and that’s when he hits that spot within you that makes your arch back even more.

“Oh. Fuck,” you cry, to which Jaehyun hums at.

“Right there?” he asks, a groan threatening to slip out at how your walls flutter around his cock deliciously.

You nod your head aggressively, squeezing your fists together since you’ve failed to grip the edge of the tub with your slippery hands.

“Everything about you is just so pretty,” he compliments, sounding like he’s in awe as he gives you even slower, deeper strokes, keeping the angle that keeps you keening. “Pretty pussy,” A thick droplet of spit lands on your asshole then his thumb traces your rim a few times, catching your reaction before the tip breaches the surface. “Pretty body.”

“Oh—shit,” you moan brokenly. “Yes.”

“And you make such pretty sounds for me.”

His thumb pushes further into you and your face contorts in pleasure.

“What the fuck, Jaehyun?” you whine, the pleasure almost becoming too much at this point. His thick, long dick hitting all the places you need, his thumb lazily wiggling inside of your ass, his velvety voice. You’re so close it almost hurts.

He just laughs under his breath, using his grip on your waist to pull you back, silently telling you to move.

Your hips meet his strokes halfway, your eyes closed and practically rolled back as you match his rhythm to get you closer to coming around him then having him in your mouth.

“You feel so good, baby.” His compliments only urge you to fuck back harder, the drop of your hips creating a loud slapping noise that only turns you on even more. Jaehyun lets you take over for the most part, thrusts lacking the power behind them so he can focus on caressing your ass, hip, and waist with his head dropped back and eyes closed. “Just like that.”

You transfer most of your weight to one arm, starting with tight, quick circle against your clit. Your breath quickens and you bite your lip to stop the sounds that want to come out.

“Let me hear you.” Jaehyun says. “Need to hear how pretty you sound when you come.”

Your fingers work faster, to the point of just swiping the bundle of nerves back and forth and cries tumble from your lips, pleas and curses mixed in.

“I’m gonna–” you begin to confess, but the pleasure heightens ten-fold and you let out a dry sob.

“Go ahead,” Jaehyun encourages, putting more effort into his thrusts again, moving his thumb in and out of you.

You have to quickly catch yourself and hold your body up with both arms again when the feeling overcomes you. You’re doing your best to stay up when your body starts to vibrate, especially when your walls become more sensitive to his thrusts. Your walls spasm around his cock and there’s a harmony of voiced pleasure.

Jaehyun pulls out when your hand starts pushing at his lower abdomen, starting to feel over stimulated. His hand slowly strokes his length to maintain his pleasure, watching you sink to your knees and he gives you the time you need to catch your breath and come back to the moment with him.

“You feeling okay?” he asks in a gentle voice, helping you turn towards him with his free hand. He cups your chin, looking down at you with blown out eyes. You nod, head still fuzzy from your climax, wrapping your hands around the back of his thighs to pull him in closer, mouth cracking open to finally have him in your mouth. Jaehyun groans at the sight and taps the tip on your flattened tongue a couple times before you wrap your lips around him. He tastes like you and an underlying musk that makes you lave your tongue around the underside of his cock, caressing that vein that has him sighing.

You wrap your hand around the base, moving his own hand out of the way, and start pumping your fist. Your attention is mostly at his tip, sucking and licking and moaning around him because you want him to come, too.

Looking up at him, his lip is caught in between his teeth and he’s looking down at you with so much desire in his eyes.

“Shit,” Jaehyun says to himself, breathlessly. You bob your head back and forth, sinking further and further down his shaft until his tip causes the back of your throat to flutter. “Just like that, baby. Fuck.”

His hips shallowly thrust forward, enjoying the feeling of your throat spasming around his cock too much to not chase it, and before you know it, both of his hands are gently holding your head in place and his grunts are turning into moans. He doesn’t fuck your face, though you absolutely wouldn’t have minded, but he picks up his pace. You massage the bottom of his shaft with your tongue and pull him in even closer by his thighs.

“You want me to pull out?” he asks while he can still think straight. You shake your head no the best you can with him in your mouth, and that’s all he needs. His hips still, then ropes of cum land on the back of your tongue.

Your hand comes back to milk the rest of his cum out, your mouth sucks until his shaft gets too sensitive and Jaehyun has to pull out. As he catches his breath, grip loosening to the point of his hands dropping, you swallow your mouthful and wipe the excess fluids off your mouth and chin.

Jaehyun helps you back up to your feet and guides you to sit on the ledge, observing your fucked-out expression that mirrors his own. You look up at him with a content smile that lets him know he was definitely worth it. He gets your towel to wipe what your hands couldn’t get off of your face, smiling at the way you close your eyes and lift your chin up with a sigh.

“Worth it?” he asks softly, now caressing your lips with his thumb.

You hum, nodding.

“Do you want to stay here a little longer or are you ready to go upstairs?”

“I’m ready.”

He passes you your towel and you thank him. You wrap the cotton around your body and he wraps his around his waist before you both grab your belongings and make your way back inside.

“You can take your shower first,” Jaehyun says when you make it upstairs, about to pass your door. You nod, still not all the way in the present, twisting the doorknob. “And we can watch a movie in my room when we’re both clean.”

You smile up at him, nodding a little harder. He hesitates for a split second before he dips down to give you a lingering kiss, then he’s on his way to his room.

After your long, hot shower, hygiene and skincare routine, you lightly knock on Jaehyun’s door before entering. He’s seated at his desk, scrolling on his phone until he looks up at you and stands, grabbing another towel.

“Pick out a movie for us?”

“Okay.”

The door shuts behind him and you make yourself at home and get comfortable on the same side of the bed you were on last night. You scroll through Netflix and Hulu only to end up having to choose between a psychological thriller you heard a lot of good reviews on and another romantic comedy. You’ll let him choose when he comes back because you don’t know which one is more his taste.

He ends up choosing the psychological thriller because apparently he’s actually been meaning to watch it but just hadn’t found the time yet.

The rest of the night is spent watching the movie, trying to understand it and bounce ideas off of each other on the meaning of certain scenes, then when you can’t control your yawns and how heavy your lids are, you call it a night. Lights and the tv are turned off before Jaehyun pulls you in for chaste kiss that lingers, and you fall asleep with your head on his chest.

For the second morning in a row, you wake up in the loose hold of Jaehyun. You know you slept in again, you don’t even have to look at the time. But you do anyway, because you and Taeyong are meant to be on the road no later than one this afternoon.

It’s only a little past ten, and anything you don’t need to use today is already packed. You have a little more time to enjoy the moment.

Jaehyun stirs awake behind you, asking you what time it is. He’s set to leave a little later than you, so when you tell him, he hums and pulls you into his chest more.

“They’re gonna wonder where we are,” you tell him, even though you really don’t care. The warmth of his chest on your back and being so close to the man you’ve desired for the last month is enough to keep you here a little longer.

“Seulgi’s been trying to set us up,” Jaehyun informs you huskily. “She’s fine.”

You blink. “She’s been what?”

“Why do you think we’ve been left alone as much as we have?”

Now certain conversations make more sense. Her ploy may not have worked in the exact way she thought it would, but it definitely worked. And now that you think about it, Taeyong’s been giving you looks the last couple of days too, so you wouldn’t be surprised if he was in on it after a while.

“Oh, she’s good.”

“Not really,” he laughs. “I saw right through her. I don’t know how you didn’t.”

“My attention was elsewhere.”

“You’re right.” He tightens his arm around you even more, now so close that you can feel a hardness poke the back of your thigh. “It was on seducing me.”

You suck your teeth and roll your eyes, though he’s technically correct.

“And it worked.” You wiggle back into his arousal, enjoying his hum of appreciation.

“Baby it worked before you even started trying.” He takes hold of your hip to pull your ass back again. “This trip just made it obvious you wanted me and gave me peace of mind to go through with it.”

You love how much more comfortable he is with his words and affection towards you. The pet names, the cuddling. The directness of his desires.

“When’s our next date?” you ask, wondering how long it’ll be before you could possibly be in this position again.

“Probably Saturday. I have a busy week ahead since someone wouldn’t let me work.”

You scoff. He had plenty of time the other day to get his work done. “Are you complaining?”

Laughing, he presses a less than innocent kiss to the junction between your neck and shoulder. “Not at all.”

“Taeyong’s gonna kill me if I’m late,” you sigh after a while of enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin, but your words don’t match your actions, your hand coming up to the back of his head to feel more of his opened mouth kisses. “I should probably start getting ready.”

“Probably,” Jaehyun agrees. But he continues his ministrations on your neck, slipping a hand under your shirt and up to your breast, groping the mound. “Is that what you want to do, though?”

“Not really,” you sigh, failing to stop yourself from arching into his touch. “But I’d hate to be inconsiderate.”

It pains you to slowly pull yourself out of his hold, but Taeyong is the last person you want to get chewed out and lectured by. With a small stretch, you get out of his bed and sneak a glance behind you to see him looking at you with desire and a cute pout.

“Are you staying in bed or are you gonna get ready with me?”

You still want to spend more time with him regardless of what the two of you are doing.

He follows you into the bathroom and the two of you stand side by side, brushing your teeth in a comfortable silence. Jaehyun finishes his morning routine quicker than you, and takes the opportunity to stand behind you and fit his chin in the crook of your neck, arms sliding forward to encircle your waist. He simply watches you pat your face dry with a paper towel, sending you a closed-lip smile when you lift a curious brow at him. This extent of affection from him is new, and you’re not too sure how you expected your dynamic to change after crossing the line last night, but this wasn’t quite it.

Not that you’re complaining.

But when he straightens up some, his hard chest pressing against your back, you’re reminded of his morning wood, and everything makes a little more sense.

“Did all of your self control die last night?” you joke, twisting the top of your serum off.

He chuckles, and surprisingly nods. Burying his face into your neck now, he’s back to pressing tempting kisses on your skin, paying closer attention to the spot that made your breath audibly hitch.

“Would you like me to stop?”

“No.” You shake your head. You sit the bottle in your hand back down on the countertop and lean back into his touch. You suddenly don’t have the mind to continue your skincare routine. “I like it.”

“I don’t know,” Jaehyun lilts, though one of his hands creeps under your shirt. He pinches your nipple, eliciting a tiny moan from you. “Maybe I should stop. Wouldn’t want to be inconsiderate.”

You hum in discontent. “Please don’t.” Gently grabbing his hair, you pull him out of your neck so you can kiss him. Arousal stirs in your abdomen all over again and you want nothing more than for him to continue kissing you, touching you. “I want you.”

“Yeah?” He voices his surprise. It really didn’t take much. “Are you sure you want to keep him waiting?”

Even though you’ll most likely be seeing him again in less than a week, it’s just so tempting to stay in this bubble with Jaehyun a little longer. To get your fix of what you’d finally indulged in last night. And honestly, being a little late won’t hurt anyone.

“We can make it quick?” you ask more than state, turning around in his hold to look up at him with inquisitive eyes. Taking steps forward, he follows your lead and walks backwards back into his room.

“I can try,” he finally says after you’ve stripped your clothes off, eyeing your body. You move to his shorts next and he allows you to pull them down before taking over to kick them off his ankles. “Lay down for me.”

He crawls over you, knees in between your legs as he hovers over you, putting his weight on one forearm beside your head. The kiss you share is languid yet sloppy, your tongues colliding and twirling around one another’s as his free hand immediately finds its way in between your legs, his middle finger running down your slit before sliding inside of you.

You break away from the kiss to catch your breath, chest already heaving up and down and it draws his attention, his mouth attaching to your nipple. Jaehyun sucks and nibbles on your nubs, inserting his ring finger in your pussy and pulling out a whine from your throat. His mouth continues to travel south until he reaches the apex of your thighs, taking a moment to watch the way your walls stretch around his fingers before sucking your clit into his mouth, giving it kitten licks.

You know you asked him to make it quick, but when he starts to pull away too soon, you push his head back in between your thighs and start rolling your hips, mouth agape with the smallest of moans and praise spewing out as you try to keep your volume down. You’re already so close, and by the way your walls flutter around his digits, Jaehyun understands as much and licks and sucks at your clit with more intent, stretching you out even more with his pointer finger.

Your orgasm is quiet, your fist blocking the sounds that threaten to come out of your mouth, lower body shaking. He lets you ride the feeling, lazily lapping at the wetness that gushes out past his fingers, circling the tip of his tongue against your clit before carefully pulling his digits out.

Wiping your essence on the comforter, Jaehyun comes back up to eye level with you, grinning down at your dazed expression, pecking your lips. He lines his tip up with your hole and studies you as he breaches your entrance, drinking up the furrow in your brows and lewd grimace that washes over your face. The pace he sets once he’s bottomed out is so different from last night, his thrusts quicker, more shallow, but still reaching all the right places.

You whine, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Oh, my God.” Breasts bouncing from the force of his hips clashing into yours, you just take the onslaught of pleasure. “Fuck, Jaehyun.”

“Love how you say my name, baby,” Jaehyun hums, dipping down to scatter kisses and nibbles on your jaw. His voice is too stable and he’s so composed you compared to you and you already feel your second orgasm approaching. You need him to come with you.

Your leg is lifted to drape over his shoulder and your breath stops for a second.

“Daddy,” you moan wantonly, eyes rolling back before you can see the way his eyes get darker and his control weakens. But you definitely feel how much harder he fucks you, how his movements lose a little finesse. “So good. Feels so fucking good. I’m gonna come,” you ramble in his ear, hips bucking up to meet his thrusts.

“Yeah?” he grunts, out of breath now. Fingertips find your clit and rub quick, tight circles. “Gonna come all over my dick?”

You nod violently. “Yes. Yes yes yes,” you cry as quietly as possible, grabbing his hair to center you, trying not to pull too hard. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” you chant as your walls flutter around his dick, body tensing before shuddering.

“Fuck,” Jaehyun groans. He grips your hip tight enough to bruise, but the pain hardly registers when he kissing you hungrily and your walls start becoming progressively more sensitive to the way his thick cock drags against them. It only takes a few more intense thrusts for him to bottom out harshly and release inside of you with the deepest moan that you swallow, that makes you clench around him.

Heavy breathing is all that’s heard for a while. He gradually softens inside of you as you catch your breath. Jaehyun’s head falls into your neck, his hand gently bringing your leg back down to the bed.

“Quick enough?”

—

Seulgi has a wide smile taking up half of her face when she walks into the kitchen.

“What?” Taeyong asks, suspicious.

She points up and remains silent so he can hear the tell tale sound of skin slapping and muffled pleasure. “They’re definitely fucking.”

He immediately regrets asking.

:) v self indulgent. but look at me posting a little more consistently. i hope you all enjoy, feedback is always accepted and appreciated (you could always buy me kofi too uwu ily) <3

#jaehyun scenario #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun smut #nct scenario #nct smut

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undiscovered-horizon · 2 years ago

Text

In Emerald Hearts, Emerald Minds - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

[mentions of unwanted advances + suggested groping + suggestive/sexual (consensual) themes]

☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾

SUMMARY: When Vasily asks you to forget his half-brother and marry him instead, you escape the Little Palace along Alina. Nikolai realizes something strange is going on when Kaz mentions seeing a similar emerald ring on the woman that came with the Sun Summoner. With how much you and Nikolai have been running in circles to find each other, the reunion aboard Volkvolny feels almost fated.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 4.6k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

It feels like the Winter Fete has been going on forever. The champagne keeps on being poured, the guests keep on dancing and the circus acts just keep on performing as though tomorrow is a mere mirage, a concept of a certain time period that never actually comes. Inside those walls of gold and marble, the misery devouring all of Ravka seems like nothing beyond a mad nightmare - something so removed from reality, it’s hilarious in its ridiculousness. Everyone is so carefree and happy you almost take their joy as your own.

Almost.

The orchestra begins playing Waltz of the Flowers and you feel your throat tighten. Despite doing your best not to, your mind relives that fateful night when everything changed. For the longest time, you’d been claiming that the change was for the better but now, standing alone for another year in a row and watching the dashing aristocrats spin to the music, you’re not so sure anymore.

“You really need to stop doing this,” Nikolai says firmly. Although his tone is decisive and clearly unwilling to accept defiance, a pronounced hint of amusement lives between his words - a thread of light-heartedness, one might say.

Your eyebrows gently furrow. “Doing what?”

“Smiling at me like that. Any longer and I might ask you to marry me.”

It feels like you’re about to burst at the seams. Trying to contain your emotions, and failing at it quite horribly, you bite your lower lip. “I might say yes.”

“Where have you gone, Kolya?” you whisper under your breath. The gloss of vacancy covering your eyes blurs the dancing bodies into one mass of faceless strangers. But it also makes you not notice someone approaching you.

“I find it quite admirable.”

Vasily’s voice startles you. To your now-gone relief, you didn’t have the displeasure of running into him all evening - until now. If you were to list all of the things about the older Lantsov son that makes your skin crawl, you’d be done by the time another Winter Fete is organized. The top of the list, however, deserves to be mentioned as it’s an inseparable part of your every interaction with the prince: he’s quite adamant and crude in his desire to be more than just a future brother-in-law to you.

“Excuse me?” you stutter out.

That patronizing look on his face is now accompanied by a cocky half-grin as he realizes he caught you off-guard. “Your devotion to my brother. For all we know, he might be already dead, Saints’ protect him.”

“Don’t even say that!” you hiss at him. Right after, you look around to check whether one of the guests has noticed your unpleasant exchange.

Despite what you’ve just said, you know he’s right. There’s no way you can be sure that your Kolya is either dead or alive. Perhaps this is the detail further ripping your heart apart - you don’t know anything about his fate; you’re mourning, although you’re yet to see the coffin. You haven’t for a few years now and each passing month of silence only made court gossip more cruel and bold.

“All I’m saying, dearest,” Vasily begins quietly as his hand drags along your arm, “is that the moment the news of Nikolai’s death reaches the Grand Palace, you’ll be thrown out. On the other hand, I can make you the Queen of Ravka. And unlike my brother, I won’t disappear off the face of the Earth and forget about his beloved lady.”

The word of endearment is dripping with sarcasm as it leaves his chapped lips. His breath reeks of alcohol and you unknowingly turn your head away. Vasily seems to think you’re about to leave his side, so his hand tightly grips your arm. The hold is almost bruising. He yanks you even closer towards himself.

“Kolya hasn’t forgotten about me,” you say in a shaky voice. Maybe he’s not as foolish as he appears and Vasily is genuinely trying to break you down.

The prince studies your face for a moment, definitely noticing how shaken you are. His eyes have the strangest glint to them - something between desire and contempt. “Is that so?” he barely stifles a grim laugh. “He would have written you a letter if that were true, no?”

Tears sting your eyes. Vasily is certainly smarter, or at least more cruel, than he lets on. He knows exactly what to say to get into your head. It’s a startling difference between him and Nikolai - only one of them does what he can to keep a smile on your face. Well, did.

His dirty, rough hand grabs your chin. Vasily forces you to look at him, his smile wavers upon noticing your desperation. “Consider your options, зайка,” he purrs out. The prince’s other hand trails your face. “The choice is yours.”

A tear falls down your cheek. You feel it rolling across your skin and you silently hope the guests surrounding you are watching this scene. Then, you lean in even closer to Vasily’s face. The whisper leaves your lips like a viper’s venomous hiss: "I will marry you the day you lay his dead body at my feet."

To your surprise, Vasily drops his hands and takes a step back. Despite the self-assured smile on his face, you can see the fury inside his eyes. “As you wish.” He bows curtly, turns on his heel and marches away, undoubtedly looking for another glass of alcohol and a lady naive enough to warm his bed.

The palace suddenly feels stuffy and overcrowded; the music is too loud, the plethora of smells make your head spin.

Outside. You need to get outside.

Bumping into several guests and mumbling half-coherent apologies, you run through the halls of the Little Palace. When the cold, night air hits your flushed cheeks, only then do you stop. Taking in a deep breath, you can actually feel your thoughts becoming clearer.

With each gust of freezing wind, all the anger and sadness is leaving your shaking body. Vasily just wanted to get a rise out of you and, as much as you don’t want to admit it, he succeeded. Unlike he claims, Nikolai surely is alive. Maybe bruised or sick or not sleeping well but as long as there’s no news about him being dead, he is as alive as one can be. The same starry sky hangs above your and his heads. Perhaps, in this small moment of longing, he’s thinking about you too. Wherever he is.

A tired sigh leaves your lips. You’re about to turn around and go back inside when a silhouette moving in the night catches your attention. The shape is swift although careful like a lizard approaching a fly. You see them looking around before running for another few meters only to hide behind a bush or piece of architecture.

Curious and a little scared, you follow the stranger towards one of the carriages. Quietly, you get close enough to grab their wrist. The shape lets out a gasp and turns around to look at you.

“Alina?!” you whisper. What in Saints’ mercy is she doing? You look at her warm, casual clothes and the bag on her back. “Are you running away?”

“I need to leave,” she answers equally quietly. Her voice as well as her stare is filled with certainty - she’s convinced beyond reasonable doubt this is the right thing to do. “Please, don’t try to stop me.”

You let go of her hand. “Stop you?” A dry chuckle leaves your lips. “I’m coming with you.”

“What?” she deadpans. Alina is staring at you with a vacant stare and her mouth slightly agape. Apparently exchanging royal comforts for hay and stolen apples is unthinkable.

“If I have to spend one more day around Vasily, I will murder someone.”

Alina slowly nods her head - she can definitely understand the sentiment. A dimwitted Fjerdan would have more charm than the older prince. But then she squints her eyes, looking at you with a sense of scepticism.

“Out there, there won’t be warm beds and three-course dinners, you know?”

“I know,” you answer with a careless shrug. Loitering and wandering isn’t for ladies of your sort, it’s like throwing a finless fish into a tank with sharks. Despite that, you’re quite convinced the means justify the end, at least in this scenario. “But out there is my Kolya. And I’m done politely waiting for him.”

A shadow of sadness covers her face. If there’s anyone who can understand your plight, it’s her. In fact, she is luckier than you - she saw her lover maybe an hour ago. Pleasant or unpleasant, the meeting confirmed to her that Mal is at least alive. It’s not a privilege you could afford.

“Then let’s go,” she says to you before opening the chest in the back of the carriage. Forgetting all of your etiquette and social standing, you climb into the compartment with her. Towards adventure or death, you’re going somewhere.

“The ring gave you away,” Kaz announces. “It’s too expensive for a bodyguard.”

Jesper knits his eyebrows together, suddenly remembering something. He leans towards Kaz but speaks a little too loudly for the question to be inconspicuous: “Didn’t that girl wear the same-”

When Kaz’s cold glare meets Jesper’s squinted eyes, the dark-skinned man immediately closes his mouth halfway through the question. Both of them sit back as they were but the cat is already out of the bag. Well, not entirely - half of it is peeking out of the metaphorical sack.

Nikolai looks between them with unmissable suspicion. Although he’s heard enough to be aware of the possibility that the Sun Summoner isn’t travelling by herself, this is the first time either of the Crows admits it.

His heart begins to beat slightly quicker: Alina run away from the Little Palace along with another woman and that lady was wearing a royal jewel at the time. As long as Vasily didn’t lose his signet on one of his distasteful escapades, the course of events points to only one person - you. Shoving his restless excitement into the deepest chasms of his heart, Nikolai manages to remain his composure:

“Who was wearing that ring?” The prince-turned-privateer unknowingly fiddles with the heavy jewellery on his finger. Noticing the Crows’ reluctance, he makes them an offer: “If you tell me who you saw wearing an emerald ring, I might, say, give you ten minutes to escape.” Nikolai vaguely gestures to the closed window on his right-hand side.

Kaz knows there’s no point in lying any longer. The man in front of him is not only well-informed but also smarter than he looks, making the Crow wonder whether he also knows the answer to this question but prefers to play some kind of a game. In any event, he’s done his part of the deal and his ex-accomplices are left to their own devices. Additionally, he could really use those ten minutes. “A young woman that accompanied Alina Starkov. High-born, confident, decisive. Not a Grisha as far as I know.”

“Not a Lantsov, obviously,” Jesper chips in.

Brekker’s keen eyes catch the barely noticeable change in Sturmhond’s expression - the corner of his mouth merely stuttered up and down but it is enough to tell Kaz as much as he needs:

“You know her.”

Know her? If Nikolai had a weaker grip on his emotions at the moment, he’d laugh until his stomach and diaphragm hurt and then he’ll burst with laughter once more, unspeakably joyous that he might get to see her sooner than he thought. Yes, he does know her but in the way heart knows blood and lungs know air. She’s the ligament that keeps his bones together, the fibres that construct his muscles, the very blood that runs in his veins. Does the Moon simply know the stars? Do trees know their roots and branches?

But for now, he needs to stay focused.

“Not really,” Sturmhond answers while scrunching his nose. “Many aristocrats wear a ring like that. While I may know of a lot of them, I hardly know anything about them.”

Kaz fights back a mocking half-grin begging to twist his thin lips. “I’d argue that an emerald in Ravka is a rather rare gem.”

“Hers is probably genuine. Mine’s stolen.”

Silence falls between the three men. Nikolai and Kaz are staring each other down, battling in some kind of war of wits and nerves, waiting for the other to give in. Jesper is stealing glances at both of them, feeling the cold tension rise in the air.

Against his deep-seated desire, Kaz doesn’t inquire further about the emeralds or the strange coincidence that the two enigmatic characters wearing them might know each other. He sits back in the chair, his shoulders visibly drop. As much as he’d love to dig deeper, he’d much rather get out of here and reclaim his freedom that is now endangered.

“Well, gentlemen,” Nikolai begins in an upbeat tone, “your ten minutes start now.”

Without saying anything else, he leaves the room. Only then, when the dark, wooden door close behind him, does he let suppressed emotions wash over him. A quiet chuckle brushes past his lips and for a moment even tears sting his eyes. Delight, worry, relief - conflicting sensations merge into one, completely overpowering flame burning inside his chest.

Maybe he doesn’t have the Sun Summoner and he still needs to come up with a plan to catch her but Nikolai hasn’t been this happy for a while now: his солиышко is alright, still making the world brighter and warmer. If he can get to Alina Starkov, he might see her again, although he begins to wonder whether she wishes to see him after all those years of silence and ignorance. But if he can see her, just witness the marvel of her entire being even for one last second, he’ll be cured of the longing and loneliness that has been gnawing at him ever since he left Os Alta.

You’re following the Shu man to what you assume is his captain’s cuddy. The ship creeks and groans under the weight of the crew as well as the power of the waves. The bussing crewmen spare the three of you a glance, only to show disinterest and go back to their duties. It’s a nice change compared to the kerchen ship you travelled on to Novyi Zem, where the captain asked Alina and you to stay under the deck because of the sailors’ superstition. After getting off the ship, it took you a good week to wash out the reek of cured cod from your clothes and hair. Sometimes you still felt like you can smell it in the air, even in the dusty wind sweeping through Novyi Zem.

Your ‘guide’ pushes the door and they swing open with a creak, the list of the ship aiding the motion. Except for the squeaky hinges, probably rusting faster than anyone can manage, Volkvolny is in good shape. In fact, it looks brand new - no mould or woodworms.

“Captain, request for charter,” the stocky stranger announces with a hint of amusement or excitement in his voice. Despite his imposing visage, the Shu man has made a good impression on you but the long sword on his back kept you vigilant against getting too comfortable in his company.

Only when he moves to the side, presenting the three of you to his captain, do you see the face of the infamous Sturmhond.

You want to laugh. In fact, you have to clench your fists to stop yourself from bursting out with laughter. This situation feels like the strangest coincidence that you can think of, which in turn makes you suspect that it’s not a coincidence at all. Because what are the odds?

Nikolai’s face momentarily brightens up when he recognizes you, a new glint lights up his eyes. He looks different than you remember but in all the right ways: his shoulders look broader and his hair is longer, curling in a way that makes him appear more infantile. You remembered him as a handsome man but the Nikolai in front of you is beautiful enough to be considered unreal.

He's staring into you like a deer caught in headlights until Tolya hands him Alina’s unusual means of payment. As Nikolai is turning the piece of jewellery in his fingers, you notice another change: his hands look rougher, definitely scarred from all the adventures you hope you’re yet to hear about.

The blond prince turns his attention back to Alina, Mal and you. “A gold hairpin can get you anywhere. But an emerald ring?” He gestures to you. “It can get you everywhere.”

“It’s not for sale,” you answer, although you know he’s not trying to buy it. After all, he’s the one that gave it to you.

“I don’t want it.” Nikolai shakes his head. Then, a flirty smile appears on his face. “Looks better on you anyway, doll.”

You’re about to respond to his remark when his attention is once again placed on Alina. “Now, Tolya says you’re looking for a charter. Where are we sailing?”

Alina begins the story with ‘the creation of the world’ as your mother used to say: the Little Palace, Darkling, Morozova’s amplifiers and the Fold. Nikolai nods along, never giving away that he’s privy to most of the story. He doesn’t believe in the Sea Whip at first but that’s hardly his fault - not too long ago people wouldn’t believe in the existence of the Sun Summoner and now she’s standing beside you, nervously rubbing her hand. As you have expected from the moment you saw that Nikolai is Sturmhond, he agrees to the insanity of taking up the quest to catch the amplifier.

“Tolya will show you around.” He sends you off. You’re about to follow your friends out of the cuddy when he adds: “You, emerald lady, I’d like to talk to in private.”

Alina gives you a concerned look (‘blink twice if you need help’) but you only smile and nod at her in response. With Mal tugging at her arm, she reluctantly leaves you and Sturmhond alone.

The moment the door closes behind Tolya and your friends, Nikolai runs around his desk towards you, engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug. His hand threads through your hair, pushing your head further into the crook of his neck. Even if you tried, there’s no way you can pull away or even move. Taking a deep breath, you smell the familiar fragrance of his cologne but now it’s mixed with the scent of resin, saltwater and seaweed.

Then he pulls away, looking you up and down with burning worry. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? What are you doing here?”

You swear he could be bleeding out on the floor and still he’d be apologizing for staining your clothes. It’s heartwarming that despite the years and evident change in his appearance, Kolya is still Kolya.

A wide smile enters your face. “Looking for a frisky sailor to take me on a voyage filled with indecency, obviously.”

“Well, here he is.” Nikolai points to himself and winks at you. “And he’d really like to know why you’re in Novyi Zem with the Sun Summoner and whats-his-face and not in the Grand Palace in Os Alta.”

You let out a heavy sigh and shake your head gently. “I grew tired, Kolya.” His eyebrows slant upon hearing the exhaustion in your voice. Despite the sheer happiness he feels when you say his name, the concern gnawing at his heart seems to be more powerful. “Years have gone by without you giving me even the tiniest sign that you’re alive and well. And your brother, Saint’s have mercy on him because I won’t, has been adamant about marrying me ever since you left. I told him I will accept his proposal the day he lays your dead body before me.” You make pause, noticing a strange shadow hanging over Nikolai’s face. But he’s not saying anything for a moment, so you finish what you wanted to say: “I had to get away from it all. There’s only so much uncertainty and intruding fingers a lady can take.”

“By the Saints,” he breathes out, “did Vasily lay a hand on you?”

You feel his grip around you tighten but it’s not painful, rather securing. “If you’re asking whether he hit me or forced himself on me, then no, he did not. He did, however, make it abundantly clear what he wants from me. On multiple occasions.”

Nikolai’s face twists in a scowl. The glint that lit up his eyes when he saw you is now gone, exchanged for something dark and unstable. “I’m so sorry, if I knew-”

“I know, love,” you interrupt him. He doesn’t need to announce the ends he’d go to in order to ensure you’re safe and comfortable. Nikolai has never said or done so but you’re fairly convinced he wouldn’t shy away from fistfighting Vasily if he said something less-than-savoury to you. “But neither of us could have known.”

“I promised you’d be safe in Os Alta.”

“And I promised to stay put.” You can’t keep laughter in any longer. You’re not quite sure whether your chuckle is born out of happiness or disbelief. “Now look at us.”

Suddenly, he knits his eyebrows close. At first, you think he’s confused but then the slight rise of his cheeks suggests something closer to contempt or disgust. "Would you actually marry Vasily if he gave you my dead body?"

You can only give him an indifferent shrug. "Maybe?” you ponder aloud. “If you were dead, I would lose all care about what happens to me or with me. In a way, I’d be dead too."

Nikolai takes one of your hands and kisses its fingers. Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his warm lips against your skin. “I could never rest in peace knowing how he’s treating you.”

“Having you haunt me would be incomparably better than you just being gone. Everything is better than silence.”

His shoulders slouch. Nikolai looks away from you for a moment, admiring the floor in his cuddy but even this can’t hide his guilt and shame. “I couldn’t have just popped in for a visit. Not anywhere in Ravka.”

"You couldn't even have written me a letter?"

"Someone at the palace would recognize my handwriting. I couldn't risk it."

"Then you could have dictated the letter to one of your crew."

That self-assured, flirty smirk appears again on his face. "And scandalize my crewmen with the things I want to tell you?”

As much as you’ve dearly missed his insufferable humour, at the moment it’s making your skin crawl. “This is a serious conversation, Nikolai,” you state firmly.

“I am serious, солиышко.” The pet name rolls off his tongue with both weight and lightness as though it belongs exclusively to you and no one else can ever claim it as their own. He kisses your hand again but keeps it against his lips for a while longer. Then, he places your fingers on his chest and you can feel the soft thrumming of his heart. “Do you think I never thought about writing to you? That I didn’t stay up at night thinking about what I will tell you when we meet again? Countless letters I have begun only to tear them apart and throw them into the sea or burn them. If some people found out we know each other, you’d be in much greater danger than Darkling following your steps. I’d rather deal with the heartbreak of staying away from you than know I put you in danger because I can’t live without you.”

It brings you a grim sense of comfort that he’s been equally torn as you were over the lack of contact. You never thought about it before but Nikolai must have been worried sick, not knowing whether you’re alright and happy. Has he imagined your plight and misery as often as you did his?

“What did you write in those letters?” you ask in a shaky voice.

“I wrote about how much I miss you, how it physically hurts to consider that you might think I have abandoned you. When I was hungry, cold, tired or sick, only the memories of you made me push on. On nights when I couldn’t sleep, I’d stare at the sky above me and wonder whether you’re looking at the same stars. I wrote that wherever I go, I see your face. You are in every sunrise and sunset, every flower I see and every fire that warms me.” Nikolai lets go of your fingers, placing both of his hands on either side of your face. The softness in his eyes makes you swoon. “I only wrote the truth,” he says slowly, making sure you understand the weight of his words.

Swallowing back tears, you lean into his warm touch. “My beloved, my heart yearns for you?” you jest in a dramatic voice.

A playful smile creeps back unto his lips. “If only my heart.”

“Gross.”

“You wanted a frisky sailor.”

"You’re a pirate, not a sailor.”

"I’m a privateer,” he drones out the word as though it makes a world of a difference.

"Pirate sounds sexier."

Nikolai gives you a fake frown. “Oh, I definitely am a pirate."

Without thinking twice, he’s kissing you. The sensation is just as comforting as you remember. His soft lips are doting on you, growing needier with each peck as though this is some feverish attempt at making up the lost time.

He pulls away to catch his breath and although you’re panting yourself, you unknowingly chase after him, unwilling to dismiss this carnal desire just yet. Nikolai seems to notice your eagerness - he flashes you a cocky grin and shortly pecks your lips again.

“You crossed Ravka, the Fold and the sea just to find me?” he whispers. His eyes are stuck to your wet, swollen mouth.

“And I’d do it a hundred more times if I had to.”

You exchange a few more hungry kisses, pecking and nipping at each other’s lips, before Nikolai continues the conversation:

“I want to say that I’m flattered but I’d rather not encourage you to do something this stupid and dangerous ever again.”

“Hate to break it to you but you took all the stupid with you.”

He rests his forehead against yours; hot, laboured breaths brush against your flushed cheeks. “I’d like to clarify that I’m not stupid, I just can’t seem to think about anything other than you.”

Nikolai wraps his arms around your waist. In a swift motion, he turns you around and pushes you against the edge of his desk. His strength surprises you when Nikolai effortlessly lifts you and places you atop the table, pushing off maps and navigation essentials. Firm, warm hands are restlessly wandering across your body, unsure where to lay or what to grab.

You gasp quietly when his fingers sneak underneath your shirt. “Is this the indecent part of the voyage, my frisky sailor?”

“By the Saints, I hope so,” he whispers against your lips. Then, he furrows his eyebrows questioningly. “Is that offensive to say around a living Saint?”

“I don’t think Alina heard you.”

His nimble fingers are quickly undoing the buttons on your clothes. “Well, she will hear you in a moment.”

“Gross,” you say with laughter in your voice but the word gets muffled as Nikolai gets back to kissing you again.

Even if the crew did hear you that day, no one dared say a word.

зайка [zay-ka] - bunny (feminine; term of endearment)

солиышко [sol-nee-shko] - little sun (unisex; term of endearment)

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #nikolai imagines #nikolai x reader #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x you #sturmhond #grishaverse

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bookuce · 3 months ago

Text

Change My Mind

SUMMARY: Josh and Alina are great friends most days. Other days, they want to tear each other apart. Some days, they’re in love with each other, but neither of them will admit it.

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OC. The book uses actual names of wrestlers. Josh is Jey, Jon is Jimmy, Trinity is Naomi, and Alina is Alina. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events (matches, storylines) could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE. THAAAAAANKS. *

PAIRING: Jey Uso x Black OC

TROPE: Friends to Lovers

WARNINGS: Language

WORD COUNT: 5.4K

PART NINE

PART TEN

Alina hadn't gone on a double date in years. Some of her favorite dates just so happened to be doubles. After Theo, it didn't happen much anymore. She had started seeing her friends less in gatherings and seeing them more alone. What Theo did ruined the healthy dynamic of the friend group and made Alina feel like she was forcing her friends to choose between him and her. She never wanted to be that friend but had to. She refused to reopen wounds that hadn't fully healed for a two-to-three-hour outing.

Yesterday's events didn't help either. Somehow, years of growth and healing went out the door once Theo chose to stir up drama. Now, her best friend won't talk to her, and their friend group's dynamic has shifted again because of him. She glances over at Josh, Trinity, and Jon, watching as they talk and laugh with each other. Alina's spent all of two years with these people. They've become her family away from home, her family period. What would happen to them if she and Josh broke up?

Alina didn't want to think about that, but because of Theo, she had no choice but to do so. She'd probably have to switch shows and relearn how to be alone again. She wasn't looking forward to that. She and Josh have been joined at the hip for a year now and even more now than ever. Losing him would hurt her more than anything--especially now that they were together. They were in too deep with each other now.

A bump to her arm would pull her attention from the outside. She and Josh would lock eyes with each other. Dark brown eyes searched hazel ones for a moment before Josh decided to speak up. "You good?" He asks lowly. He knew she wasn't, but would she tell him that right now? No, she'd save that for a conversation later.

"Yeah, I'm fine," She starts. "just thinking." She finishes, turning her attention towards the window again. Josh continues watching her before reaching over to grab her hand. She looked at him once more, watching as he clasped his large hands around her own and pressed multiple kisses to it.

Josh knew Alina would be hard to reach after everything that happened this weekend. Between him, her ex, and her best friend ignoring her, she was emotionally and physically exhausted. He hoped this outing with Jon and Trinity would take her mind off it all for a few hours--or at least the rest of the night. She deserved peace, laughter, and happiness, and he planned to give her all that tonight--and any other day she needed it.

"Lina, you excited to meet our parents tomorrow?" Jon asks, causing the couple to turn their attention to him. Josh's lip curled slightly at his brother, making Jon lean back slightly. "What? She ain't know?" He asks.

"No, Jon, but thank you for telling her," Josh says, annoyed.

"Were you not gonna tell me?" Alina asks. As soon as the question left her mouth, she regretted it. It was hypocritical of her to be upset at that, considering Lina let Josh meet her ex-fiancé and didn't give him a warning. Josh turns his attention back to her just as she closes her eyes. "I'm sorry." She sighs, shaking her head.

Jon and Trinity glanced between the couple before looking at each other. He furrows his brows at her, and she shakes her head, a silent conversation happening between the two. They didn't know the full extent of yesterday's events and planned to ask later, but with how their brother and his girl were acting, they should hold off on being nosy for a while. Josh gently nudges Alina, forcing her to open her eyes. They'd stare at each other again. "Can we enjoy ourselves tonight, please?" He asks her.

Immediately, Alina begins to nod. "Yeah," She starts. "Yeah, I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing. You ain't did nothing," Josh says, turning away. Josh looks between his brother and sister before sniffling and shifting his gaze to the floor. Alina would return her regard out the window, watching as buildings passed them by. She still didn't know where they were going and now had to worry about meeting Josh's parents tomorrow. She's been with the company for two years and never met Rikishi, nor did the twins ever talk about him. Josh spoke of his mother a lot--a Mama's Boy, this one is.

"Alright," Trinity breathes, glancing down at her phone. The car ride quickly became awkward, and she needed a way out soon. "The GPS says we should be arriving in about five minutes." She announces.

"Good," Jon mutters. "before they start fighting back there."

"Bruh, shut up." Snaps Josh.

"You shut up," Jon echoes, turning around again. Josh sits up in his seat. "You ain't gonna do nothing."

"Says who?" Josh asks.

"Shit, me and Theo will be twins to-day!" Jon smacks his lips at him, turning his head to laugh slightly. He points at his brother, wiggling his finger quickly from left to right. "So will that right and left eye." Alina and Trinity roll their eyes at the conversation happening. The twin brothers were bickering. It was nothing new--they've seen them fight plenty of times; they're usually okay right after. Jon enjoyed knowing he could effortlessly get under his brother's skin. He says it's his responsibility as the eldest brother to get on his nerves, but Josh would beg to differ.

"Wait till we get out of this car." Josh threatens, prompting Jon to throw his hands up in feigning fear.

"Can y'all not do this right now?" Trinity says.

"Yeah," Alina agrees, looking between the twin brothers. "Last time, someone called the cops." She reminds them. Their fights were never serious, just a headlock and a shove here and there. If one threw a hit too hard, the other would initiate an actual scuffle. It was rare, but it happened. The brothers stared at each other in silence, one with a goofy grin, the other with a gaze cold enough to kill a man.

"Ay, listen to your wife," Josh advises, pointing his index finger at him.

"Listen to yours." Jon echoes back. Alina cut her eyes at Josh to see his reaction to the title his brother gave her. Josh glances in Alina's direction briefly before relaxing in his seat. She furrows her brows a little, glancing between Jon and Trinity before letting her eyes settle on her boyfriend. Alina half-expected Josh to scold his brother about the 'wife' comments like he commonly did, but it never came.

The car slows to a halt, cueing everyone to look at the windows. They were in the parking lot of a karaoke lounge. Alina quickly turns her attention towards the Fatu trio in front of her. "Oh, are y'all deadass?" She asks, earning grins from everyone.

"A family that karaoke together stays together," Jon says. "Now get your ass out of the car." He tells her. She looked at Josh, who was already getting out. Her reaction was why he didn't mention where they were going. He knew that if she found out they were going to a karaoke bar, she would try to find a way out of the date. He wasn't going to allow that to happen.

Josh made his way around to her side of the car, opening her door. She peers up at him with wide eyes. "Baby." She whispers at him.

"Get out the car, Alina." He tells her, holding his hand out for her to take. She sits there for a moment, her mouth agape. Josh tucks his lips between his teeth, his eyes briefly going to the ground. He was trying not to laugh in her face about this, but her reaction was just what he expected it to be. She never wanted to do things that she felt were embarrassing, and now she had no choice. He was forcing her out of her comfort zone. "Come on now, honey, the driver got places to be." He says, urging her to get out.

She glances back at the driver, who is glancing back and forth between the couple. He waited patiently for the chaotic group to leave his car, but Alina refused to let him end this ride. "How much to drive me back home?" She asks him. Josh smacks his lips at the question, reaching in to pull her from the car. "Josh!"

"Have a good night." He calls out to the driver before shutting the door behind Alina.

The couple begins to walk towards the entrance of the lounge. Music and terrible singing are heard outside the venue, making Alina's stomach knot. "I'm not singing." She tells him, making him scoff.

"We'll see." He says, holding the door open for her.

"I mean it." She says, looking at him as she passes him on the way in.

Josh didn't believe that one bit. If he knew only one thing about Alina, he knew that with the right amount of alcohol in her system, she'd do anything. Whether sober Lina liked it or not, drunk Lina was going to be on that stage singing her heart out by the end of the night.

She wasn't a terrible singer either. She was quite the opposite. Alina grew up in church as a choir girl, versed in the hymns of her ancestors. That wasn't her choice; her mother made her do it. She now avoids having to do it unless her grandmother asks her to. Josh knew she could sing. He's heard her sing softly to herself plenty of times before and thinks she has the prettiest voice. It was never where he was supposed to hear her. She sang behind closed doors, in the safeties of her shower, or the kitchen while she cooked, but never where he was supposed to hear her.

The group of four approaches the hostess, the older woman's eyes lighting up at them. "Well, this ain't a sight you see often in here." She says, coming around the podium to hug the twins and Trinity. Alina quickly caught on that this was a regular spot for the Fatus when they were here in Pensacola--which was strange because Josh couldn't sing to save his fucking life.

"Hey, Miss Lana." Jon greets her, wrapping her in a tight embrace before passing her off to his wife. "How you been?" He asks.

"Good, your father was in here last night." She says. "Are y'all gonna out-perform him tonight?" She asks, moving on from Trinity and on to Josh. She notices the black eye, but she has but opts out of questioning it. The boy has gotten into fights for as long as she's known him, so picking up a career in wrestling made sense for him. What a strong warrior spirit behind that sweet face of his.

"C'mon, Miss Lana, you already know." He answers, pulling back from the hug. Miss Lana turns her attention to Alina, giving her a look over.

"Now, who's this pretty girl next to you, Joshua?" She asks. Alina holds her hand out, a bright smile on her face.

"I'm Alina, Josh's girlfriend." She says. Alina wasn't sure of the importance of this woman to the Fatus, but it did seem she was in tight with their entire family. She didn't want any negative word to get back to The Twins' parents that she was anything short of sweet. The older lady takes her hand and shakes it gently.

"Pleasure," She nods, turning her attention to Josh. His gaze shifts from Alina to the little lady again, his eyebrows raised. He had been watching how the two women interacted with each other, hoping that the family friend would approve of her. "Something tells me she's a keeper." She informs him, earning a mental sigh from the man.

The little old lady turns away from the group, walking back around the podium. "I would be crazy not to agree." He says, reaching down to wrap his hand around Alina's. She squeezes gently, getting a tight squeeze back from him. She smiles softly to herself, her eyes finding the ground.

"Well, I'll let y'all go in. Have fun." Miss Lana says, shooing them away. Josh would begin to pull Alina into the lounge area. The space was dimly lit, adorned in purple, red, and blue lights to set the mood. Each table had candles at its center to make the setting intimate. Currently on the stage was someone singing a terrible rendition of Insatiable by Prince. The lounge was packed with people, a constant for this place. It was extremely popular with the people of Pensacola.

They stop in front of a vacant table for four, the Twins moving around to pull out chairs for their women. Trinity and Alina sit in the two chairs toward the middle, leaving Jon and Josh to both be on the outside. "So take it slow, baby, and let's unwind!" Sings the person on the stage, causing the crowd to erupt into cheers. "Do you really want all my clothes off?" He asks, running his hand over his chest and gyrating his hips.

Alina's eyes widen when the singer erupts into a shrill scream, earning more applause. "Oh no." She groans to herself. She turned to Josh, who was still standing next to his seat. He was watching the performer, his head moving to the song. She taps his leg, making him lean down to her height. "This was not what I expected when you said double date!" She shouts over the booming music and people.

"Oh, you said you want a drink?" He replies. He was purposely ignoring her complaining at the moment. She furrows her brows at his response.

"What? No, I said--." Josh turns and walks off toward the bar. Jon follows after him, leaving Trinity and Alina alone. Lina scoffs to herself. "You could've given me a heads up." She says, turning towards her friend.

Josh and Jon approached the bar together, both leaning up against it at the same time. "Thanks for doing this with me, Uce," Josh says, clasping his hands together tight. Jon glances over at his brother, his eyes immediately going up to the bruise on his eye. He shakes his head gently.

"You gonna tell me what happened?" He asks, bypassing the appreciation his brother was trying to show him. "Did he hit you with a brick or something?" He asks. Josh sucked in a breath, his jaw clenching and unclenching while he tried to choose his words carefully.

"He had on some rings--or something; I wasn't paying attention." He answers. "All I remember is that he came over talking about some; he asked Alina to leave me and be with him. She told him no, and he followed it up with, 'Well, she told me she loved me, and I love her too'." The bartender would come over to them, interrupting their conversation. "Let me get a beer and a tequila sunrise." He answers for him and Alina; Jon orders for him and Trin, sending the bartender on his way.

Josh pulls out his wallet, getting ready to pay, but Jon taps his shoulder. "I got it, Uce, y'all been through it this weekend." He says, prompting Josh to put his wallet back in his pocket. Jon slides his card across the countertop to the bartender. "What did you say to make him hit you that hard?" He asks after several moments of silence. "Because you had to have said something crazy." Jon assumes.

Josh gives a smug grin, glancing down at his hands. "Why do you assume I said something crazy?" He asks. Jon and Josh look up at each other at the same time. A smile grows on Jon's face.

"Because I know you, stupid." He notes. "What did you say?"

Josh chuckles softly. "I asked him if he thought Alina would play house with him and then told him that if she wanted to be a mother, all she had to do was ask me." He confesses. Jon stares at him for a few moments longer before bursting into laughter.

"Yeah, you deserved that shit, Uce." He says, leaning into his brother. "That's some crazy shit to say to a person's ex." He tells him. Josh would shrug slightly, his eyes averting to the drinks placed on the countertop for them. Josh reaches forward for his beer, taking a quick swig of it. "Did he draw blood?" Jon asks suddenly, his eyes on his brother again. Josh's eyes remain fixated on the beer bottle in his hand. He twisted it from left to right as he studied the label.

He knew where this was going. Always the Devil on his shoulder, that Jon was. "Yeah." He answers.

"So, we're getting your lick back, right?" He presses, prompting Josh to look at him. They would watch each other silently for a few before Jon pressed on. "It's only fair. Blood for blood."

"You trying to get us arrested."

"Not if provoked." He says quickly.

Josh smacks his lips at him, looking at his brother. "Man, what?" He asks.

"Let him pop up again. He's in the friend group, ain't he?" He asks. "Alina's gonna get an invite somewhere--."

"Fuck no," He starts. "you going to have me fuck up her friendships more than I already have." He tells Jon. Despite Alina blaming everything that happened yesterday on her, Josh took full responsibility for the events of the evening. He was confident that was causing Tasha to not talk to her, and he planned on fixing it eventually. He just needed to figure out how to approach it without making everything worse, and fighting was not a solution. With one last glance at his big brother, Josh grabs Alina's drink from the counter and walks towards the table.

Jon appears next to Josh with his drinks in hand. "All you gotta do is let me know when something is happening, I'll plan a trip to Atlanta for me and Trin, and we'll get his ass outside somewhere." He proposes. Josh comes to a stop.

"Bruh, no." He objects. "I'm not doing that to Alina." He stresses with a shake of his head. Josh resumes his walk to the table, leaving Jon blown away by his refusal to fight. Any other time, Josh would have said 'hell yeah' to beating up someone, but he was not interested in hurting Alina more than she already is. The fight that happened last night shouldn't have even happened, and he regretted even entertaining Theo's ass. Was this growth? Maybe, maybe not.

In Jon's eyes, Theo deserved an ass-whooping. What do you mean you approached his brother and told him you tried to sabotage his relationship? What do you mean you initiated a fight, your boys saved you from getting fucked up, and you drew blood? That man should be on his way to a hospital! Jon watches as Josh passes Alina off her drink.

Eh, he just needed a little more persuading.

"Thank you, baby," Alina says as she takes the Tequila Sunrise. Josh sits down next to her, pulling his chair to her side. His knees pressed into the side of her leg, his body leaning in towards her.

"Yo, we want to thank everyone for coming out for R&B night tonight," The DJ starts. "It's gonna be a night of love and nothing but straight vibes, you feel me?" The crowd cheered around them. "We got any lovers in the crowd tonight?" Alina lifts her hand to her mouth, letting out her own cheer.

She then leans towards Josh, causing his eyes to light up at the attention. "That's all you're getting out of me tonight." She tells him, making him laugh. She leans away once more, her eyes going to the stage. He taps her leg, calling her attention back to him. She leans in again, giving a quick peck to his lips.

"The next person on the list will serenade you with the sounds of Jon B. Ladies and Gentlemen, give it up for Max." The DJ says, calling out for the next person in the queue. What was interesting about this karaoke lounge to Alina was how receptive everyone was to being there. The cheers of drunken patrons helped make those on stage feel more comfortable embarrassing themselves.

They Don't Know started to play throughout the lounge as the next performer got on stage. "How y'all doing tonight?" He calls out. Jovialities break out around the room, including Josh, who only shouts to make Alina laugh, which he does successfully. "Sing along if you know the word. Clap on the beat if you don't," Max instructs them. "Heard about my past, the things I used to do." He sings off-key. Alina grimaces slightly at the delivery, bringing her glass to her lips. Maybe this will all start sounding right by the night's end if she gets more drinks in her system.

Josh leans into Alina again, his mouth to her ear. "How are you feeling?" He asks, sending shivers down her spine. He probably shouldn't ask as often, but he needed to know.

She glances down at her drink before turning her head to face him. "Considering I still don't have my phone?" She asks.

"You're not getting your phone back tonight." He says quickly, shaking his head. "I told you I need you here with me." He reminds her.

She watches him for a moment, her eyes skimming over his face. "She's my best friend, Josh." She says finally.

"I understand that," He starts. "but she could care less that you are losing sleep over her. You've been trying to contact her, and she's not answering. I don't like that." Tasha and Alina were two grown adults who could settle their differences with a simple conversation, but one refused. He could see why they were best friends now; Alina did that to them often when she was upset with him. Alina looks away from him, her eyes focused on the performer on the stage now. "Ay," He says, calling her attention back to him. "You shouldn't have had to find out from someone else that she was mad at you." He says, shaking his head gently at her.

He was right. Alina shouldn't have had to find out that way, but she understood why she did. She would be upset too if that was her wedding and her maid of honor and boyfriend were fighting the best man during a day that was supposed to be about her. "She wants to act like this, let her. Give her her space and let her come to you. That's what I do." He says, making her hang her head and laugh.

"That's what you do?" She asks, looking up at him. He smiles big at her.

"Yeah, that's what I do." He repeats, nodding his head. "You still here, aren't you?" He asks. She grins at his question before nodding slowly. Josh leans in, pressing a few kisses to her lips. "It's going to work itself out one way or another." He promises.

"I know," She starts. "I'm just worried."

"And that's fine," He says. "If something changes, I'll be here; so will Trin and Jon, but until then, be here with us. We planned this whole outing just for you."

Alina tilts her head to the side. "And you chose a karaoke bar?" She asks.

"Ay, it's fun. You're just hating right now cause you're in a bad mood, and that's fine." He says. "I forgive you, though." Josh looks away from Alina and to the stage. The tone-deaf singer that was up there was finally closing out his song.

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

As the night progressed and more drinks got into her system, Alina began to liven up. She found herself singing along with the performers that were up on the stage. She sways from left to right in her seat, her right foot tapping as she does so. Yesterday's events quickly became an afterthought for sober Lina to worry about tomorrow. Lina was in a great mood right now.

Josh had walked off a few moments ago; she assumed to get more drinks, but it's been a while. She turns in her seat towards the front of the building, eyes scanning the bar for a mullet of curls. When she didn't spot them, she turned to Jon and Trin, who were cuddled up with each other. Trin had moved from her seat into her man's lap, her arms wrapped loosely around his neck. She taps Jon's arm, getting both of their attention.

"Where did Josh go?" She asks. As soon as the question left her mouth, Trin started looking around the venue. Jon did a slow turn towards the bar. When he didn't see him there, he looked at Alina.

"He ain't gone far." He assures him. Josh wasn't one to wander after a few drinks. Then again, they did get lost in Times Square that one time. He quickly expelled the thought of his twin running off somewhere drunkenly from his mind. "I'll call him." He says, removing his phone from his pocket.

Alina snatches Josh's phone off the table and shows it to his brother. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we got a rare treat for y'all tonight in The Marina Lounge," The DJ starts. "Get ready to be serenaded with the sweet sounds of Pensacola's own, Ucey Juicey!" If Alina turned her head any faster, she would've broken her neck. I know that ain't who I think it is, she thought, standing to her feet to see over the crowds of standing people.

"Yeeeeeeet," Josh says into the mic, confirming Alina's suspicions quickly. Her boyfriend was on the stage, slapping hands with the people in the front row. He wasn't about to sing, was he?

"Good God up above..." She says to herself.

"Ay, I want to dedicate this song to the love of my life, the future Mrs. Joshua Fatu, Miss Lina McLemore." He says, making her hang her head at the dedication. "That's my best friend, y'all, I love her." Dear God, he was about to sing. Music began playing, prompting Alina to look at the stage in second-hand embarrassment, half of her face covered as she watched her man prepare to make an ass of himself.

The crowd clapped to the beat, hyping him up more than before. He takes a sip of the Tequila Sunrise he had in his hand, which could be the cause of this performance. At what point in the night he switched to fruity drinks was a mystery to her. "I can't imagine life without you by my side..." He sings. He slurred his words together as he sang the first few lines. Alina stifles a laugh, closing her eyes to gather her composure.

"Damn, not you got this man singing songs for you," Jon says, earning a glare from her. "Tyrese at that? That boy sprung." Trinity slaps his chest.

"I don't see you singing for me." She says.

"I'ma sing for you later. My falsetto nice." He says, sticking his tongue out. Both girls would groan at his response. Alina turns her attention back to the stage.

"Things tend to slip my mind like how you like to wine and dine, babe..." He sings, lifting the hand that held his plastic cup in the air. "Yeet." He adds. Alina giggles lightly at him, turning to grab his phone. She needed to record this. No one at work would believe her unless Lina showed them. She takes hers from beneath Josh's, switching the phone into camera mode. "Ay! Have I told you I loved you? Alina..." He sings. "Have I told you that you mean the world to me..."

Josh started to dance, letting the instrumental play for a few moments. "The song, Uce! Sing the damn song!" Jon shouts, reminding his brother to sing.

The younger twin stops dancing, leaning over slightly to laugh at himself. "My bad, y'all--." He apologizes, looking up at the teleprompter. "Where the fuck was I?" He asks himself. Someone would shout something at him, making him laugh again. "Ay, you ain't lied!" He responds, pointing at them.

Alina turns to Jon. "I hope you know you're helping me get him in the house." She tells him. Jon cringes slightly, pulling his bottom lip down at her words. His hand goes up to the back of his neck, rubbing at the back.

"Jon," Trinity says, looking back at him.

"I'm not going to let her carry his big ass in alone, girl, damn." He says, bringing his hand to his chest. "I was just playing." He says to Trin. She leans in to press two kisses to his lips.

"And verbally, I tend to forget how much I L-O-V-E-U really means..." Josh yells into the microphone, bringing Alina, Trin, and Jon's attention back to his drunken singing. "Lately, have I told you I loved you? Alina..." Adding her name to the lyrics made her laugh. Her feelings of embarrassment began to subside the longer she watched him.

Josh made it his life's mission to remind Alina often how much he loved her. If he didn't use words, he would express it with his actions, eyes, and hands, in silence, alone, or on stage in a crowded room full of drunken people. If he could do it on national television, he would. That man was in love, and there was no denying it.

The song ends, and the crowd erupts into cheers again. Alina would join them, a big smile on her face. "Thank you, thank you," Josh says, passing the microphone off to the DJ. Josh came walking through the crowd, dapping up people greeting him on his way back to his table. "How'd I do?" He asks his group once he makes it over. Josh wraps an arm around Alina's shoulders, draping his weight on her body and causing them to stagger barely. He leans in to press several kisses to her lips, the taste of orange juice and tequila still in his mouth.

"You're not going to Hollywood, that's for sure." She teases between kisses.

"That's fine," He starts. He turns his head to finish the last of his drink. "I'm tryna take you home, though," He says, leaning in for one more kiss. "Give you an encore performance." Thick black eyebrows lift to help with the delivery of his words.

"You're going to sleep when we get home." She tells him.

"Who said that?" He questions.

"Me." She replies.

He points at the stage, looking over his shoulder slightly at it. "Girl, I just sang my ass off on that stage for you." He says, looking back at her. "Panties gotta drop."

"Boy--." She starts, pulling back to look at him. She laughs softly at his words. "We are going home, and your drunk ass is going to sleep! That's final." He scoffs at her, tilting his head up in disbelief. His brows furrowed, and his top lip curled slightly. The man was shocked, hurt, sad, and possibly depressed at her rejection. In reality, he was being dramatic.

"See if I sing for your ass again." He tells her.

"I hope not." She says, looking back at Jon and Trin. "Y'all ready to go?" She breathes.

Trin and Jon stand to their feet, both nodding simultaneously. "Yeah, we can call it a night." The eldest twin answers. "Let's get Keith Sweat over here home." He says, with a sigh. Josh lifts his middle finger at his brother, but Alina pushes it back down. She takes that hand of his, unwraps his arm from her shoulders, and pulls him towards the entrance.

"Did you have fun tonight?" Josh asks. Even though he was heavily intoxicated, he still wanted to make sure his girl had fun. That was the goal for the night: to make sure she had fun.

She turns to face him, a broad smile on her face. "I did."

Josh nods to himself, proud he was able to get her mind off of everything. "Good." He answers. It would get temporarily quiet between the pair as they watched each other. "I'll send you my bill since you won't fuck me."

"Josh!" She groans.

"I'm just saying."

PART ELEVEN

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A/N: we love a good double date! i wasn't planning on this chapter to be as long as it was, but here we are. 🤭

🏷️ list: @thesamoanqueen @whatdoeseverybodywant @headoftheetable @mzv11 @southerngirl41 @yana3sworld @wanderingreigns @wrestlingprincess80 @siriuslycee @vebner37 @astridxxxxxx @alichesmi @tshepisho @scarlettnoir01 @brokenglassslippers @reignsboy19 @sayyestoheav3nn @cyberdejos2 @empressdede @sisinever @truefant4sy @paigereeder @tbmotw @fearlesschimera @venusesworld @usoholic @sageispunk @bebesobrielo @jstarr86 @vibessonvibes @issahyland @fandomphasess @evilli0s

#wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #jey uso #main event jey uso #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x black oc #jey uso x oc #jey uso fanfic #Spotify

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kasagia · 1 year ago

Text

In the darkness

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/General Kirigan/The Darkling x fem! Alina's sister! Sun Summoner! reader Summary: After you and Alina destroyed the fold, she killed Aleksander and became queen at Nikolai's side, you took the place, tittle and chambers of the General of the Second Army. And then... strange things starts to happen in the darkness. Warning(s): obsessive behaviour; toxic relationship; voyeurism; Aleks manipulates the reader, the reader gives in to him; the reader is alone and needs someone *cough* her Darkling; fight; violence; dark reader; Word Count: 9,2 k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

You won. Alina won. The fold did not exist anymore… as well as he. Ravka was safe. And the new royal couple was supposed to provide it with peace and splendor. That's what they were saying.

Nobody talked about the fallen. About the thousands of Grishas still living in fear. About thousands were imprisoned by Fjerdans and Shu-Hans who experimented on them.

All that mattered was that the Darkling was dead. The darkness disappeared. The shadows left with their last summoner, whose body he begged you to burn.

And maybe, after all, he was cruel. Maybe he knew that despite everything he had done, you still loved him, and his request (as well as his staring at you as if you were his only light and the only one thing he wanted to look at before his death) would completely break your already battered heart.

Maybe that was his last act of manipulation and control over you. A pleasure he couldn't slip out of his fingers. Maybe seeing you sobbing over him was the last goal he set for himself, before he leaves this world after the centuries he has lived. Centuries of constant fighting and flight. Centuries of leaving in his own shadows, in hatred, each time he looked at the fold, he was reminded that he wasn't able to achieve his goal.

That he was utterly alone...

Just as you are now.

Or maybe he just loved you, and you didn't want to admit it to yourself...

And now, laying on the bed in which he used to sleep, on the bed he used to hold you, on the bed he spent with you many sleepless nights and long, late mornings, you know that no matter what renovation this room will have, it will always remind you of him.

Your Aleksander... your equal... your monster.

You shiver as the cold, winter air comes to his... your room. You get up from the bed and walk to the window to close the door.

You look at the palace gardens and immediately remind yourself of the days before you found out he was Black Heretic, before that fatal Winter Fete.

Two years ago, Aleksander was chasing you around gardens, laughing, snowballs fighting, and doing all the stupid things he couldn't do in the daylight.

Two years ago, your life looked like a fairytale, and you were blessed to live in it. Now it is much closer to tragedy. And knowing how the events would turn out, you would have definitely cherished those simple, peaceful days with Aleksander by your side more while they lasted.

You sigh, absently stroking your right hand where Aleksander ordered David to physically embed the amplifier into you a few months ago.

You were pathetic. Missing the man who manipulated you, who hurt your sister, who wanted to kill your friends, who hurt Genya... but that was why you couldn't fully hate him. He did everything to achieve his goal. He hurt everyone who stood in his way.

Except you.

Never you.

And it hurt more than if he had physically hurt you.

He always held you up as his equal. The son of a bitch even had his kefta re-stitched to have gold embroidery to represent your power. He wore your combined colours with pride. Just like you did before you discovered how many sweet lies he had fed you since the day you first met him.

Tears come to your eyes as you remember how that fucking bastard, moments before Alina drove the shadow sword through his abdomen, lunged at his Nichevo'yas to stop them from attacking you. You saw the vulnerability and the fear in his eyes until your light drove the shadow monsters away from you. And relief, which was replaced by painful shock when Alina took advantage of his moment of inattention and killed him.

It had never occurred to you to hurt Alina before... except that fateful day.

You wipe the tears from your cheeks with your hand and turn to go back to the bed. You had a meeting with several colonels, including Fedyor and Ivan. The two were also torn apart by the war.

At least Fedyor still has his Ivan alive to atone for his sins. - you think bitterly, even jealousy, as you somehow manage to fall asleep in this big, empty, cold bed.

And when you close your eyes, the candle that was lit on the nightstand that once belonged to Aleksander goes out as you fall into a deep sleep.

If you had been a little more alert, you would have seen shadows that created a curtain covering the window, thus blocking the moonlight from entering your chamber.

"I have no intention of punishing them, Alina." you tell your sister as you work at the war table. Aleksander's plans were somehow still preserved. And you review them, updating and changing them according to your needs.

"They fought alongside the Darkling. What kind of general are you? What example will you set by not punishing those who defied the crown and followed their Black General?"

"That's why I have no intention of doing anything about it, your majesty. You were Grisha yourself before you lost your powers. Whose side would you fight for—the king who hates them or the general who gave them a safe place? And please try to put aside our personal prejudices and see the whole thing, not just a little peace through the prism of your hatred towards him, because we both know damn well that Aleksander was many things. A good commander was one of them."

"I never wanted to be a Grisha." Alina says this with pain in her eyes. You know this very well. You wouldn't have wanted to be a Sankta or general either... if it weren't for Aleksander.

"But you were. You can't just forget about that, Sol Koroleva."

"You're definitely not making it easy for me." she sighs tiredly, smiling at you. She sits down in the chair next to you and takes your hand. "If I could turn back time and... not bring Mal back to life and not lose my power, I would. I wouldn't leave you alone with this, you know, right?"

"I know... but that's not how things went..." you say, swallowing, as you let go of the papers and look at your sister. "But that's okay. I will keep an eye on your children and grandchildren... Maybe one of them will become the next Sun Summoner? Who knows?" you laugh, trying to lighten the mood, but by the look Alina gives you, you know that your tone wasn't as carefree as you wanted it to be.

"Y/N... I'm sorry." you interrupt her before she begins to pity you, before her compassion overwhelms you to the point where you sink into your own pain and suffering, which inevitably entails an eternity ahead of you. And that was just the beginning.

"You don't have to... I... I can always die somehow. I don't have to live forever."

"We both know that's not in your blood to give up. You will fight till the end... till Grishas and Ravkans will live as equals in a safe country."

"Maybe yes... or maybe I will throw it all to hell and go around the world. I remember that Kaz once proposed to me to join their little group of thieves. It could be fun."

You both laugh at that. Then Alina gives you a sad, apologetic look before asking you a very dangerous and… hurting question.

"Do you miss him? Aleksander?"

A dead silence falls between you after her whispering question. As if his name were something forbidden to say out loud between you two. You play with the sleeve of your white kefta with gold embroidery, wondering how to answer this obvious question.

"Sometimes... but I guess it's only because I don't want to... to be alone like him..."

"Did you love him? At the day I killed him?" she asks, assuming that you stopped loving him at the moment he stopped breathing; at the moment when his black, poisoned by Merzost heart stopped beating… as it was just that simple for you to forget about him. The man who made you who you are now. The man who was first to show you how extraoridnary you are. Who understood you more than your sister - your supposed closest person in the world.

"I care more to have someone by my side through all of this that's about to happen… someone who will stay for longer than almost a century. I guess I'm starting to understand why he was chasing after us… why he wanted us by his side in his damn glorious purpose."

"He was chasing after you. He only cared about you. Not only because you were a Sun Summoner." she says it so lightly and so obviously that you start to wonder if she's deliberately trying to break you.

But if Aleksander taught you anything, it was how to keep your true emotions deep inside your heart. So you put your lips into a mocking smile and reply to her in a joking tone.

"Maybe. We will never find out. Anyway, I don't want to."

Fedyor's and Ivan's arrival rescued you from this unconvenient conversation. You nod to Alina as she leaves. She gives Ivan a hating, untrusyful look before guards close the door behind her. You look at the two heartrenders.

"It's good to see you both. I have some questions about these plans, and as general Kirigan's closest people, I assume, you both can explain some things to me, which I don't quite get right now."

You clear your throat, trying to forget about what you and Alina were talking about and focus on what the two men in front of you are saying. But it's hard to look at the Dark General's notes and plans and just not think of your Aleksander... Especially when those damn wooden soldiers are just as spread out on his war table as they were on the night of the Winter Fiesta when you run away from him.

And you have neither the heart nor the strength to move it to another place…

"Fedyor, can you leave us both for a while? You can wait for Ivan behind the door." you say after you've gotten through most of the stuff. Fedyor gives you a surprised look but doesn't question your order. He goes out, leaving you with Ivan, who has been giving you an unfavourable, almost hostile look since he sat down in the chair. You wouldn't care if the situation didn't require you to cooperate with him. After all, he was Aleksander's right-hand man. He probably knew the most about war tactics in the entire Second Army. And now that the fold was gone and you had to defend and fortify yourselves on all fronts, you would need all the help you could get. "Why are you looking at me like that? What's your problem?" you ask the heartrender, watching him carefully.

You both stared at each other for a moment. Ivan tries to hold back something, but the moment he notices Aleksander's ring—the only souvenir you let yourself leave after him—something inside him breaks.

"How dare you sit in his chair, having his tittle, want to do exactly the same things in the Second Army, using the same tactics as he did? You all are no different from him. Actually, you are much worse, and you call him a monster when everything he did was for us. For our safety, so that we can finally break free from the power of Otkazat'syas."

"I know you were loyal to him, but..."

"He had done nothing wrong. And you know it." he cuts you off before you can say anything else. The feeling of guilt awakens within you again, the uncomfortable lump in your throat every time you talk to someone about him growing stronger again. "I hope you also know that you and your sister destroyed everything he was working at. That Ravka will spill blood under your rule. That Lantsov prince will be the same as his father, as every king from their dynasty was."

"Be careful how you talk to me. I am your general now, Ivan. You should probably get used to it, before I change my mind and let Alina execute you." you say it coldly and grab a glass from the table to drink the whisky. "You can leave now."

"Of course, general." he said coldly, but before he stood up to leave, he put a black envelope on your desk.

"What is that?" you ask him, but he just bows to you and leaves. Only when the door closes behind him with a bang do you allow yourself to take the envelope in your hands.

Seeing Aleksander's seal—the eclipsed sun—makes you release the envelope from your hand as if it was burning you. You let it fall to the desk; your eyes focused only on it.

You hold your breath as your fingers land on the seal and stroke it tenderly. You remember the first letter you received from him... right after your first night together, when he had to leave the Little Palace for a while on important matters. He wrote to you every day until he came back again, heading straight into your arms and ignoring the fact that the General of the First Army and the colonels were waiting for him in the council chamber.

With trembling hands, you take the dagger and cut the envelope at the top so as not to break the last seal he left behind and get into the contents of the envelope.

A pendant falls from the envelope with a clatter onto the table. You leave the envelope with the letter and take the pendant in your hands, looking at it carefully.

It is a silver, convex oval with some vines engraved on the front, decorated with small, round pieces (your favourite gemstone). Initials are engraved on the back: A.M. You huff, realising that even in death, he wanted to make sure you were his in some way. And you're about to put the pendant down and hide it somewhere, where you would never find it again, but then suddenly you press something and it opens.

You gasp as you see what's hidden inside. Bone. A medium-sized, most likely from a wrist, finger, or other small part of the skeletal system.

You rummage through the envelope, and, apart from the letter, you find a small note that was probably attached to the necklace.

In case you need a reminder of your real power...

You lift the bone and feel your power flow through you, amplified. You sigh, feeling just like those months ago when his skin pressed against yours as he let you draw on his empowering abilities. You feel a tear roll down your cheek as you tremble with an overwhelming, long-forgotten feeling.

A knock on the door makes you panic, opening your desk drawer and gathering all your items into it. You close the drawer just as Zoya walks in, followed by your colonels. You rub your forehead, mentally getting ready for the next meeting.

However, you can't stop thinking about the envelope and necklace from Aleksander hidden in the drawer.

And if you were more observant, you would notice how shadows are hiding in the corner of the war room, watching you attentively, waiting for the right moment when they can come out of their hiding place. Or at least a bee that flew out of an open window.

You lie in your bed late at night. You stopped trying to fall asleep a long time ago. You laied on your back, breathing calmly with your eyes closed as you were wondering about the new informations from the camps close to the border.

The war was comming. You had right. Aleksander had right. Fjerdans and Shu-Hans wanted to use occasion and attack Ravka, since a fold has gone and now nothing stopped them from attack a West Ravka. If you lost your ports and supplies of food, raw materials and gold, you will lose that war and many will lose their lifes.

You were laying there, wondering about your next move in upcoming war. You shiver suddenly, feeling oddly. A strange chill spread through your body as you went into a more alert mode.

Subconsciously, you look around in the dark, trying to spot the dark, familiar irises. You're doing it under some irrational delusion that he is able to observe you even when he is dead. That he can watch your every move even though you watched his body burn...

Although he has already proved many times in his long, many-centuries life that he is capable of anything he wants...

With a flip of your wrist, a ball of light appears in a room. There was no one. Just you and your paranoya You frown and remove the ball of light as you lay back on the bed.

You sigh heavily, lying on your side. You watch a candle burning on the nightstand on the side that used to be Aleksander's. You watch the fire for a moment, admiring the colours of the flame and how it goes along with a soft wind from the opened window, and then blow it out. You close your eyes, listening to your surroundings, and just as you're about to drift off into blissful unconsciousness, you hear something like a cold whisper in your ear, which makes you shiver.

They are going to lose. They can't rule this country. They know nothing about the pain of war.

That tought appear in your mind, sounding extremaly like somebody you used to know very well... you shake your head. You were not going to imagine his voice on your head. You weren't go mad, were you?

Besides, that was a stupid tought. You will figure it out with Alina and the rest, just as you always do. Grishas will be safe. You will sacrifice your life to make it happen. Horrifyingly, you realise that someone before you has taken a similar oath.

Yet still, you can't help but look at the side of your chamber where Aleksander's letter is, hidden in your desk's drawer. You are so tempting to read it, even after all that happened between you both.

"Get out of my head." you whisper to yourself, as he was still linked with you somehow. As he was still able to appear in a room with you at any second.

You missed him. You admit it to yourself in the darkness of the bedroom you two used to share. But that didn't mean that you would bring him back in some way. He was too dangerous for the good of other people and too unpredictable. Irronicaly, he cared too much. And you were afraid that you were inevitably walking in his path; you were in the same place as he was all those years and centuries ago. But, contrary to him, you will have no one by your side. You will be utterly alone.

You try fall asleep, closing your eyes and ignoring the tears that fall on your pillow. If you learned anything from Aleksander, it was to let no one witness your suffering. They wouldn't understand your pain anyway.

There were no others like you. And there will never be ever again…

Against your better judgement, you quickly get up from the bed, and, before you can change your mind, with a ball of white light in your hand, you walk to the desk, illuminating your path.

You open the drawer and pull out that damned letter, hoping that reading it will give you some kind of closure you need.

You hold it with trembling hands, trying to ignore the fact that Aleksander's familiar handwriting was less refined and more cursive and simpler. There were also black traces of his blood in some places on the page. Even before you start reading, your heart sinks as you think about how Merzost was slowly killing him, as he was completely alone after Baghra's death—as alone as you are now.

And the first line is enough to bring the first pitiful tears to your eyes.

Moya milaya. Moya soverenyia,

The damn bastard knew you would take over his position. He was probably having a lark in hell right now, watching you cry over his letter, how you regretted every decision you made that got you here, and how you tried so hard to hate him with all your heart, but you just simply couldn't. And that made you hate yourself more when, despite everything, you entered the trap he had prepared specially for you while he was still living and clutched the letter in your hands, trying to read it despite the tears constantly appearing in your eyes and blurring your vision.

He wrote to you what you have already heard. That he isn't sorry, that he would do the exact same things except that he would make you his equal, that he wouldn't let you escape his grasp so easily, that he would kill all your loved ones just to be your only shelter where you could go in case of any danger, or simply when you were too overwhelmed by loneliness, like he was many times in his very long life.

And you should hate him. You should be disgusted by this toxic relationship, by his obsessive desire for possession, and by his fear of abandonment. And you could already feel yourself being filled with spite and resentment towards this man, a man who had ruined the relatively peaceful lives of you and your sister... But as you read the last lines of his letter, your feelings towards him became more unclear than before reading that damn letter.

I will be waiting for you. With open arms.

Maybe time will help you realise that there is no other way and that my actions will be yours in the future… that I was not the villain in this story, even if I seemed to be a monster to you, my little Sankta.

Maybe you will finally come to accept that you and I are unity and that we belonged to each other even before the saints decided to create the two of us.

Eya fyela chi(I love you), moya solnyshka.

I always did.

Yours,

Aleksander

You didn't sleep anymore that night. Instead, you lie in bed, your thoughts filled with this damn man who, even after his death, continues to abuse your already bleeding heart for him.

Midnights become your afternoons, that were the hours when your brain works best. You stoped burning candles at night. Surprisingly, you were thinking much better when you were in complete darkness, where the only light comed from the moon shining through the open balcony door.

You spent many nights in bed writing in a notebook, taking notes and plans that came to you as the moon hung in the sky and most of the Little Palace fell asleep.

It has become your little ritual. You sipped kvass or whisky, thinking of military tactics and other manoeuvres in case Ravka was attacked by its neighbors. You often had Aleksander's old notes spread around you. And even more often, you twirled his necklace in your fingers as you pondered over your plans.

You stopped visiting Alina in the Grand Palace. You were less and less likely to be seen by her side. But you were almost always in Alexander's library, the war room, and the training field, looking after the young Grishas who trained under the supervision of Ivan, Fedyor and Zoya.

Without knowing why, you always waited until dusk. It was your favorite time and you couldn't even say why…

Maybe if you noticed that every time you fell asleep, tired, over your notebook, thoughts that didn't belong to you suddenly appeared on the paper; maybe if you noticed how your rooms were covered with more and more shadows night after night, blocking out the moonlight, to get you to sleep faster; and maybe if you noticed how the blanket wrapped tighter around you as you drifted off to sleep and your forehead was tickled by the touch of something soft and warm; then you would realise what was inevitably to come.

Or rather, who kept his eyes on you each night, hidden in the darkness and shadows of the chamber...

Kissing someone else's lips seemed sacrilegious to you. You felt like you were doing something wrong, like you were desecrating and breaking all moral laws. But after all, you were a free, single woman, a general leading her people to war.

You could have relaxed and slept with some handsome Inferni who offered to worship his saint, couldn't you?

As it turned out, you couldn't.

You kissed the man hungrily and threw off his kefta. The moment he reached for the buttoms of your own, he unexpectedly stumbled and fell straight into the spear that was in the rack for swords and other weapons.

You stood there in shock for a moment, wondering how on earth he did this. And if you had been more attentive, you would have noticed how the shadows quickly fled from your gaze, and two dark eyes watched intently as you helped Inferni stop the bleeding enough for him to make it to the healers' tent.

You sigh in frustration as the man disappears from your sight. You clean up his blood and wash your hands before taking off your clothes.

It gives you chills. Not because the cold air of the tent hits your hot skin, but because you feel a slight tickle at the most sensitive point of your neck.

You turn and look around the tent carefully.

For the past few weeks, as soon as you left the Little Palace, you had a strange feeling that something was fleetingly brushing against you from time to time. The feeling of this strange, ghostly touch accompanied you both day and night, whenever you were alone with your thoughts. You thought it was some kind of paranoia and tried to brush this feeling off. After all, no one could touch you if you were clearly alone in the room, with no sign of another living soul.

Once you're sure you're alone, you rub your hands over your arms. Your arousal and desire quickly fade as you remember the battle that awaits you tomorrow—the first as a general of the Second Army. You make sure your weapons and combat kefta are ready and in place before you go into bed and fall into a fitful sleep.

A few hours later, as you lie there, dreaming deeply, your tent fades to black. From the shadows emerged none other than Aleksander.

The man slowly walked towards you, careful not to make any move that would increase your vigilance. Ever since you left the walls of the Little Palace, it has become easier and easier for him to make his way to you, thanks to the bond he established between the two of you by giving you a piece of his bone in a necklace.

It boiled inside him when he saw you with another man. He acted rashly and instinctively, pushing him onto the spear. He was glad that you were careless enough not to notice his presence.

You weren't ready. Not yet.

And this time, he knew better than to push you forcefully into his plan.

"My little Sankta." he whispers, his hand gently brushing your curves hidden from his eyes under the blanket.

He doesn't do anything inappropriate. He would never take advantage of you or touch you against your will... well, at least not in any invasive way. He had several scenarios prepared in his head about how the night would go, when you would finally admit your true feelings and abandon the façade of a righteous Sankta of Ravkans and Grishas.

"Soon you'll realise what you're really missing." he whispers as his fingers tips caress the skin of your collarbones.

He picks up the necklace he gave you that you wore around your neck. He lets his shadows surround you, allowing the moonlight to shine on you enough for the silver pendant to reflect it, making it seem like it was glowing, as if it were a source of your powers.

"I will wait for you… until you finally come to me willingly and accept the obvious truth—that we belong together. I promise you, moya milaya, I won't let you forget this even for a moment. You're mine. You were mine the moment you entered that damn tent—the moment our eyes met before you went on the ship through the fold. You can't deny the connection between us. And soon, you will come to accept that you need a monster by your side. That without me, there will only be suffering, loss, and eternal struggle waiting for you. I've spent centuries struggling with all of this and much more… let's see how long this charming and annoying stubbornness of yours will last, lapushka. I have all the time on earth to watch you struggle with the hatred of this world all alone…"

He pulls the blanket tighter around you and takes the opportunity to inhale your scent, which he had missed so much during those months he had been hanging between the worlds of the living and the dead. He clung to his life with his claws... just to be this close to you again. And he knew he would do the exact same thing in a heartbeat if it led him close to you.

"And in time, when you realise that your little friends of yours are not enough for you, I will be back to you. And I will take you into my arms without hesitation. We are destined to be together. Sweet dreams, moya soverenyia." he whispers and places a tender kiss on your forehead.

You jump out of bed, screaming. You take a few quick breaths and put your hand to your mouth, trying to calm yourself down and not let the tears fall. Your tent is in complete darkness as you try to calm down from your nightmare in which all of your Grishas died in the battle, in which everyone blamed you and started to hunt you and chase after you, just like the king once chased after Aleks...

You let yourself cry silently into your pillow, unaware of the figure sitting next to you and a lifting hand that was just above you, moving as if stroking your back soothingly.

Eventually, you fall asleep, shaking. The shadow of your enemy and lover watches over you and keeps an eye on you without you being even slightly aware of it.

Two years, four months, one week and three days. That's how long the war with Fjerda and Shu Han lasted.

That's how long it took them to take over Ravka.

You have failed. Both the First and Second Armies.

Nikolai was dead. Alina was either dead or in hiding like you, although judging by the recent public execution of Zoya and Alina's other guards, you suspect they had her locked up somewhere until they caught you.

And they were doing very well, considering you were currently running through the forest, escaping from a group of Drüskelles.

You ran through the forest, the cold air stinging your hot cheeks as you made your way through the snowdrifts, occasionally sending a ball of light behind you to daze your pursuers and lose them, if only for a moment. But covering up your tracks was the worst thing—a nuisance worse than the cold seeping into your bones through your soaked clothes.

You hear a gunshot. You groan as the bullet bounces off your kefta, most likely adding another bruise to your collection.

Then everything happens quickly. You are surrounded and forced to fight with both your power and your melee. You're doing quite well when suddenly one of them twists your arm. You groan in pain and use one hand to summon a cut, but it is so weak that it only reaches the lesser half of the men.

As if in slow motion, you see one of the Drüskells pointing a gun at you. Then the clearing becomes dark. You step back in fear and stumble upon the body of one of the men you killed.

Everything goes quiet. There is a deathly silence in which you can only hear your wheezing and breathing. You summon your light and dispel the shadows to see the last person you expected to see... at least when you are still alive.

"But... I saw your death... I watched you burn..." you manage to stammer.

Aleksander just walks towards you, like it was a casual thing for him to do. His black kefta with gold embroidery is intact, at least compared to yours, which is blackened from bullets and patched in a few places. He looks practically like the day he died... except his face is devoid of black scars.

"Won't you even say hello to me, my Y/N?" he asks maliciously and extends his hand for you to take it and stand up with his help. You've seen this scene before. You've been in this situation before, and you promised yourself that you would never step into the same river again.

"You should be dead." you snap at him coldly and stand up on your own without his help. You see him frown as he takes a closer look at your dilapidated and miserable state as you try to move away from him as far as you can.

"Moya lapushka... do you think I would let something like death to keep me apart from you? That your little Sol Koroleva could ever kill me? After I lived a hundreds lifes? Fake a hundred deaths?" he asks mockingly, walking over to you. He cups your cheek in his hand and strokes it tenderly with his thumb. "No. I have too much experience with eternity, milaya. I promised you that you and I will change the world. I intend to keep that promise. As well as the one where I will always come back to you, remember?"

"You were here all this time... you watched me..."

"Simply keeping an eye on you." he interrupts you, and you give him a mad look, knowing full well that he's lying as you realise that all the random things and disasters that were happening around you were his fault... just like the few times you felt someone's ghostly touch on you. "Well... maybe I had also done a little bit more. But don't dramatise... after all, I have to look after what's mine."

"I was never yours." you say furiously, causing a hostile tension to arise between the two of you.

His presence brings you some relief, despite everything. But you know this feeling too well; you know HIM too well to let him manipulate you so he can use you in his plans again.

"Leave me. Live your life. I doubt anyone would be insane enough to resurrect you a second time." you growl angrily and run past him, hitting his shoulder with yours.

Before you can get away, he grabs your elbow. You hiss in pain, making him automatically let go of you. But he steps closer to you and carefully grabs your wrist, observing the blood seeping from your forearm and the swollen, bruised elbow—the result of your hand being twisted and falling to the ground—and the hard roots of the tree that had somehow broken through the now-red snow.

"You need a healer." he says calmly. He seems worried, as he is trying to stop the bleeding from your wound.

"I can handle it. Let me go." you say firmly. His dark-brown eyes meet yours, and you mentally curse yourself for how they can still charm you.

"Let me help you." he says it with such tenderness that you want to immerse yourself in his sweet words again, to surrender to that attraction that has always been present between you. "You don't have to be alone, moya milaya."

"I'm not alone." you deny quickly. However, you give in partially when the logical part of you allows him to give you a band-aid; this is something you are willing to accept from him.

"Aren't you, Y/N? Don't you feel a the weight of the fate of all Grishas on your beautiful, delicate shoulders? Haven't you misssed me all these single nights? When you were dreaming of my touch, of my voice..."

"And where were you when I really needed you?! When your people were dying on the borders! When innocent people died when they took Ravka! Where the hell were you then?!" you shout at him in anger and move away from him before he can tie a makeshift sling around your arm from the black shawl he untucked from around his neck.

"Making sure that YOU will not kill yourself, while playing a hero." he replies calmly, his gaze unwavering on you as his composure throws you even further off balance.

"If you care about me so much, why didn't you stand by my side? Why didn't you help me save Grishas?"

"You said yourself that you don't need a monster. That you can handle it perfectly well on your own, little Saint. I told you and tried to warn you that you can't do it on your own, and neither can I. But you had to be stubborn. These are your words: 'Let them come.' I did. I let them come. Are you satisfied?"

"You let all these people die to just prove your point?" you ask, shocked. He takes advantage of your momentary lapse in vigilance to bandage your arm and place it in a sling made of his black shawl.

"No. I let all these people die to make you see the truth that you are trying to avoid so hard."

"Which is?"

"Don't pretend, moya milaya. I am a patient man, but we lost enough time. Can you honestly claim that you are against me? That you would choose these fools over me again? That you didn't wish to have an equal again? Someone who will stand by your side no matter what? Someone who will protect you? I can be all of this to you and even more. All you have to do, lapushka, is accept that we are all we need. That you and I was enchanted to unite a long time ago. I want you to see all these things from my side of the story, to understand why I did what I did, and why I intend to continue what I have planned."

He talks so smoothly about death, as if it were nothing. And you would have the right to feel outraged by this fact and hate him again if the smell of the metallic blood of the people who hunted you wasn't in the air. People you killed without blinking an eye.

As he caresses your cheek tenderly and stares at you with affection and an understanding you haven't seen in anyone else's face since his death, you can't help but wonder... if he was actually right when he said that in time his actions would be yours.

He leans closer to you. Your noses brush as he rests his forehead against yours. You shiver, feeling his warm breath on your cheek.

"Aleksander..." you whisper shakily as his scent reaches you, his warmth warming your body, frozen from the cold and the exertion of running away. You feel like you're just realising that he's really here. That he's alive.

And you welcome the familiar tingle of your power inside you that he brings back to life with his amplifier powers as his lips capture yours.

And you wanted to move away. Really. You wanted to remain indifferent towards him and laugh at him for still feeling something for you. Scold him for even hoping that you would just melt back into his touch after what happened between you, how he hurt you, and how obsessive and possessive he was.

But all you do is moan against his lips as you respond to his kiss.

It's not one of those hungry, greedy kisses stolen in moments when you were completely alone and couldn't fight the growing tension between you any longer and just had to release it by consuming each other with your desires.

It's gentle, so much so that you're afraid that the butterfly feeling of his lips on yours will disappear in any moment and you'll find that he never came back, that he was just a sweet, cruel delusion of your exhausted mind.

But the moment he tangles one of his hands in the hair at the back of your head and puts the other on your waist to press you against the tree so gently as to not hurt you accidentally, you know it's real. And you can't stop responding to his kiss or pretending that you don't want to caress his lips with yours just as passionately. Or pretend that the thought of pulling away isn't sinful to you.

You pull away from each other after a long moment. Not far, though. His nose brushes against yours as you breathe heavily, both of you with your eyes closed, drinking in the other's warmth and scent after so many years of fighting with each other and your desires... after so many years of being utterly alone.

Your shaky breaths come out of your mouths in grey clouds and merge together. Only now do you notice how warm he is compared to you.

"Come. You can't stay here." he says, taking off his warm coat with black fur sewn to the hood. He puts it on you and pulls the hood over your head.

"You don't need to..." he interrupts you, picking you up in bridal style. He holds you close to his chest and walks in a direction unknown to you, a clear plan etched on his face as he scans the surroundings for any danger in your path. "Hey! Put me down! I can walk by myself! Besides, I don't want to go anywhere with you!" you protest, struggling in his arms.

"I know, milaya. Rest. I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to. I'm just making sure you will be safe when I'm gone. That's why I'm taking you to Grishas' camp. They will cure you there. Besides, your followers anxiously await your return, my little Saint. You are their only hope now."

"When you gone?" you ask slightly panicked and shift your gaze to him.

The weight of responsibility settles on your shoulders once again as you realise how many lives are counting on you... and the one person you can look to for support is, inconveniently, now something of an enemy to you.

But... can you feel towards your enemy the way you feel for him? Can you kiss an enemy as passionately as you did just a second ago? Can an enemy look at you with such care and adoration?

"Do you wish me to stay with you, lapushka?" he glanced at you briefly, just enough to ask you his question.

A dead silence falls between you. You don't need words to understand each other. And it was something that had always both terrified you and made the bond between you more and more irresistible. He knows the answer to your question. He knows you'll never admit it out loud. Or at least not at this moment.

Despite all this, he still holds you close. He leans down to place a kiss on your temple and whispers in your ear:

"I am... a very patient man, Y/N... I can wait, and I will. You will come to me yourself. And when you did... you wouldn't be able to resist or deny the truth about your feelings for another damn second. I will have you by my side. I can assure you that it will happen sooner than you think or are willing to admit."

You don't argue with him anymore. You just don't have the strength. Instead, you lean against him and fall asleep, wrapped in his scent, his warm coat, and his arms that make you feel safe. You decide to hate yourself later for what you feel right now.

After so many years, months, weeks, and days of fighting for your people and country completely on your own, you could afford the comfort of feeling his arms around you for just another few minutes, couldn't you?

It's been three months since you last saw him.

He left you at Grishas' camp just before the sun rose with a kiss on your forehead and a promise that you would meet again and that you would call for him again. Which you highly doubted. You already despised yourself and him enough to stay away from him... or at least pretend that's what you wanted.

During this months, you managed to save and lose many people—many good soldiers. And although you don't want to admit it, this time it makes you even more aware of the truth that Aleksander was trying to drill into your head before you destroyed the fold.

You wandered around like a child in the fog, trying to keep your morality, set an example for people, and play the role of a Sankta who abhors all evil and darkness. Only he had survived enough to know that morality could only be keept in human conditions—when you didn't have to worry about food, a warm place to sleep, or whether every breath you took wouldn't be your last.

But what really broke you wasn't the constant death, suffering, and screaming around you. It was the news of Alina's death.

It was this terrible emptiness, this feeling of helplessness and loneliness that grew inside you with each day, with each Grishas lost, with each drop of blood that soaked into your kefta.

And then you gave up.

"You won! Do you hear me?! YOU WON!" you screamed in your room at the camp after you returned from another mission to rescue imprisoned Grishas, which ended in the bloodiest of all. Which ended with the death of the last person you cared about. "Just come here… I can't… Aleksander, please. Please, I need you."

In your rage, you throw the bottle of alcohol against the wall and scream, falling to your knees. You wrap your arms tightly around yourself and cry, feeling the dried blood on your clothes.

You have enough. You had enough of this war. You didn't want to see your friends lose their lives. You were fed up with constant wars, fighting, and deaths around you.

You only knew one thing: you couldn't stand this alone. You simply must have had him by your side again Somoeone who will stay by your side and simply just be there for you. Someone who won't require you to save the world all by yourself.

"Aleksander, I beg you... please..." you whisper desperately while holding a pendant with his bone tightly in your hand. Maybe the fact that you never parted with that stupid necklace was a sign of what was inevitably to come.

Your failure. Your ruin.

But still, all you can do is melt into his arms as he comes to you through your bond and embraces you, pulling your shaking body into his lap and as close to him as possible.

"Shhh... it's okay, moya milaya, you are safe." he whispers in your ear as he holds you close to his chest with a hand on you mouth so you can make a sound. "As long as I am here, nothing will happen to you. You are not alone anymore and you never will be again, lapushka."

He strokes your hair and whispers words of comfort. A sweet nothing meant to calm you down. You still can't tell whether he does it out of love or because he needs you in his plans. And the scariest thing was that you didn't care as long as he held you, stayed by your side and didn't let you be alone.

If you were any less grief-stricken, you would wonder about the irony of this situation. The irony of how he foretold your fate. How he fulfilled his promise. How he became your only shelter.

"I will take care of everything. I'm not going anywhere. It is you and me, my Y/N. It's only you and me against them all. And we are all we need anyway. I will take good care of you, solnyshka. No more tears; no more lies and betrayals. Our life together is getting started exactly right now. And I can already promise you it will be an incredible future... moya tsaritsa. Ravka will be ours. We will free our people. We will made all of them pay for what they did to our kind. Grishas will enter their golden age under our rules. Nothing will stop us."

"Just... please come back." you sob into him. He tightened his arms around you and pressed his lips against your temple.

"I'm on my way, lapushka." he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear.

You shiver as the warmth of his arms suddenly disappears, and you're left alone, kneeling on the cold floor. You couldn't afford even the slightest remorse. All you could think about, and all you could wait for, was the moment he would come back here in the flesh.

You realised that loneliness was too dangerous an enemy for you that you (or anyone) were unable to defeat. Aleksander has been patiently waiting for years for you to come to this conclusion. A conclusion he understood the moment you fled the Little Palace with Alina and the crows, just before he could have a proper chance to propose to you.

But this time, he won't make that mistake again. He won't let you go of his grip once you came back to him.

The world needs a monster.

You understood his words the moment you created your own fold. A fold of white, pure light which killed anyone who tried to walk past it.

You saw the fear in everyone's eyes. Even your Grishas, whom you swore to protect. Only Aleksander's dark irises stared at you with admiration. Only he doesn't turn away from you, doesn't show any traces of dread.

Only he was brave enough to walk to you, and after that, he kissed you greedily after you all realised you won. Ravka belonged to Grishas. And the new fold that you create will make sure no one will ever think of attacking your people again.

And now you were standing in front of the mirror in the Little Palace. Your people bravely dismantled what was left of the Grand Palace and worked to rebuild the house of Grishas and expand it.

You were entering a new era. And the flags with the eclipse of the sun that now fluttered on the masts of the palace reminded you of that, as did your black and gold dresses, keftas, and the crown that had recently become an extra burden on your head. Just like two rings on your finger.

"I knew you would look stunning in the crown, moya Sol Koroleva." he whispers, making you shiver at his sudden presence. He wraps his arms around your waist, pressing you against his chest. Shadows circle lazily around you as his dark eyes catch yours in the mirror.

"You could at least pretend you didn't plan this from the beginning."

"I didn't plan it. I didn't want to be king. But when the dynasty kept taking advantage of us, I had no other choice. I had to start planning to take over the throne. Taking on the burden of power to make sure that the Grishas are finally treated as they should be. And then you appeared. My sunshine, my ray of hope, my little saint."

"A candidate for your queen and a means to a desired goal." you finish bitterly, resting your head on his shoulder to rest for a moment from the irritating weight of the crown. Looking in the mirror, you reluctantly admit that he looks handsome, dressing all like a king.

"Don't be so mean, milaya. You know very well that you shattered any evil plans I had for you when those lips of yours enchanted me. You made me feel like I could control it all for the first time in hundreds of years. That my plans will finally come true. We've come a long way, my Y/N, but we both know this is where we were meant to be. Next to each other. Equals. Together at the helm of Ravka. We are the only ones who will ever wield such power and who can stand next to each other forever."

You sigh. He is right. He is all you have. And you both know that you won't let go of each other anytime soon. You hated solitude. You knew yourselves so well that even for a second, consider leaving the only person who could ever stick so long with you. The ones who understood and were willing to share the burden the world put on the arms of the two of you.

So you turn in his arms, place your hand gently on his cheek, and after caressing his skin with your thumb, pull him in for a kiss.

He pulls you closer to him; you both need the other's touch and tenderness, the reassurance that after so many wars, fights, and betrays, you are finally together and that you will rely on each other to build the greatness of Ravka, leading your Grishas into the years of glory.

Not just as king and queen, tsar and tsaritsa. But also husband and wife. Partners. Equalls. Summoner of the sun and shadows united for the good of all your people.

"I love you, moi sol ye tselai. My Y/N." he whispers into the skin of your neck, placing kisses, especially where was the necklace he gave you, which you didn't dare to take off for so many years, afraid that the last connection and the memento you had left of him would disappear as soon as you lost it from your sight.

But behind these great goals was one common need, to which you agreed only for yourself. The need to love and be loved. The need to have a shelter that will last through the eternity that awaits both of you. And you finally had to admit that despite the darkness in your life and the problems and disasters mostly caused by your new husband, you couldn't imagine anyone else next to you.

"I love you, Aleksander. I've always have." you admit as his hands roam over you, caressing you. Shadows surround you, creating a protective bubble as you kiss passionately, forgetting about the rest of the world for a moment and you give in to your deepest desires.

The prospect of loneliness and everything that you went through in your life have effectively killed any sense of guilt or morality inside you. You could have allowed yourself that one selfish act. Especially when being with him in the darkness was such a tempting and blissful experience after years of loneliness.

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simp2537 · 11 months ago

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Can you write a Darkling x reader fic where reader (who is his wife for thousands of years and he cannot live without) is accidentally hurt by his nichevo'ya. Angsty where Aleksander is really guilty and scared he lost the only person he loves, maybe some comfort from reader as well?

Scars

a/n : I heart angst so much, it’s angst with a happy end cause I heart that ❤️❤️❤️. Reader is a Tidemaker.

Warnings: nichevo’ya attack on reader, blood, Alina hate, guilty Aleks, mentions of reader having an abusive home life

Aleksander Morozova x fem! Reader

Aleksander stood froze staring at his wife’s blood on his hands. His darling wife, the one who’d stayed by his side through it all. Through all years, hundreds of years surviving together and he’d…. he’d hurt her. He stared at his wife’s form as she slept on there bed. He hadn’t meant to.. he thought they’d leave her alone.

Aleksander stood in his room after a coughing fit. Y/n walked in and gently grabbed his shoulder, in hopes of comforting him when the nichevo’ya appeared. They thought that his sweet wife had cause him pain. They dug its claws into her side.

“No! No! Not her!” He yelled but it was too late. They had thrown her across the room, her blood pouring into the carpets. Aleksander rushed to her, grasping her into his arms.

He cradled her as her eyes weld up with tears. He held her face as he apologized over and over. His dark irises soon flooded with tears as he called for a healer. Fruzsi ran in and gasped at all the blood surrounding the pair.

Healers rushed into the room and Aleksander brought her to there bed. He watched with worry in his eyes, he watched with fear as they healed her. His grisha had never seen such fear in his eyes, not when they were being attack by Alina, not when he was freeing other grisha, never had they seen such fear in his eyes.

The healers worked quickly to heal their Generals wife and the most powerful Tidemaker. Fruzsi watched as the healers finished with uncertain looks at each other. They whispered in her ear, words that made her shudder.

“She’s weak and has lost a lot of blood, she might not make it through the night.” The healer mumbled. Fruzsi shock her head fiercely, Y/n was strong, she’d been her mentor, her friend for years. Unfortunately for them all their General caught their curt and quiet whispers.

No, this would not take his wife- Aleksander would try to reason. His wife was stronger than she gave herself credit for. She’d survived hundreds of years by his side through endless battles. He couldn’t be the cause of his beloveds death, he couldn’t be.

“Not her, never her.” Aleksander mumbled to low for any to hear but himself. And his nichevo’ya. They were to never touch her.

Aleksander sat in his wooden chair staring down at his hands in horror. He swore to never touch her, never hurt her. It was in his vows he’d made hundreds of years ago when they were young. He swore when they married in that tiny ceremony, just them and the minster that he’d never lay a hand on her like her father, her mother.

Now she laid possible dying because he’d failed to control his own nichevo’ya. Y/n had never been fearful of his shadow monsters, they were a part of him so naturally, his sweet Y/n loves them as she loves him. A soft rustling on there bed caused Aleksander to look up, Y/n’s eyes were open, just barely.

“Darling!” He reach to grasp her hand but stopped. His hand was still covered in her blood. Weakly he watched Y/n reach for him, he wiped his hand in his kefta and gently took her hand in his. The bed dipped slightly as he sat next to her frame, Y/n hazily squeezed his hand.

With his free hand he held her face. She nuzzled in the warm he provided her, the safety. Her eyes blinked slightly as she tried to sit up.

“Sasha…?” She muttered softly as he gently pushed her down.

“Don’t, you’re still injured and still weak.” His voice cracked with pain as he spoke. Y/n grasped at his scared face and pull him down with all the might she could muster. Aleksander rest his forehead against hers as he listened to her soft breathing. “Sasha… I’m okay.” Y/n promised, Aleksander scoffed. He could practically see the lie, her lip was tight, her nose ever so scrunched. She was in pain and he knew it.

“No you’re not Y/n. You’re not okay and it’s my fault- I’m so sorry.” Y/n couldn’t remember that last time he used her name. She’d grown so accustomed to the pet names he’d use.

“It okay.. I’m okay.”

“No! No you’re not and it’s all my fault!”

“I will be okay.” Aleksander sighed softly. No matter what he did she wouldn’t care. Deep down he knew she was far too good for him. He was a monster and she… she was the ocean strong and beautiful. Still he feared one day she would realize how much better she deserved.

“Sasha? Lay down with me please.” Y/n mumbled. Aleksander shock his head.

“No absolutely not love, I’m not going to do that right now.” Y/n shot him a glare.

“I meant cuddle you dirty minded old man.” Aleksander laughed gently and kiss her forehead. He slowly laid next to her, not wanted to injure his beloved further. With an annoyed huff Y/n slowly and with a grimace moved onto his body. Aleksander instinctively wrapped his arms gently around her, bringing her closer to him.

“Sasha? Please don’t worry too much. I’ll be okay.” Y/n promised as she drifted to sleep. Aleksander laid awake for much longer as he monitored her.

“I promise, you will be.”

#aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova x you #alina starkov #shadow and bone netflix #answered #general kirigan x reader #the darkling imagine

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ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes · 2 years ago

Text

Sobachka

pairing: nikolai lantsov x reader

genre: fluff

el's thoughts: just some cute fluff really nothing too it haha no real plot with this one and the gif has nothing to do with this... i just like it bahahaha

The heels on her boots clicked as Y/N walked through the halls and rounded the corner. Alina, Mal, Genya, Zoya, Tolya, Tamar, and Nikolai all turned to face her as she walked in. “Don’t mind me, sorry. Please continue.” She found her seat next to Nikolai and quickly caught onto what was being discussed.

“I’ve missed you.”

Y/N felt the corners of her lips curl into a small smile, “I saw you this morning.” His hand rested on her thigh making her throw him a stern glace and move his hand. “Pay attention, sobachka.” She noticed his cheeks turn a light pink at her words causing her to smile a bit wider and Genya next to her to snicker into her hand.

After the meeting, Y/N and Nikolai walked down to the infirmary to make their rounds.

“Sobachka.” He scoffed making her laugh loudly. “What? How is it wrong? And it’s not like you haven’t been called it before.” She didn’t have to look at him to know he rolled his eyes, “Yes, by my mother or the elders. Literally anyone much older than me.”

“Genya calls you that sometimes.”

“Well… Yes, but that’s Genya.”

“So I can’t call you by that name but she can?”

He sighed, “You can call me whatever you’d like, Darling.” He gave her a smirk and dodged her hand as she raised it to slap his arm.

“What am I supposed to call you then? Nikolai is so… boring and I would like to have a cute nickname for you.”

“So nice that you find my name boring. You call me, your love. No one else calls me their love.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer to his side to kiss her head.

She scoffed, “Well I sure hope so!” She gave him a faux side-eye. “And it’s not that I find your name boring. You know I love your name, Nik. Just, everyone calls you that and I want to call you something else. Something special. Am I making any sense?”

He nodded and chuckled, “Yes I understand, but know that anything you call me is already ten times more special just because it came from your lips.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up, “You’re a flirt, you know that.”

“For you and you alone, Darling.”

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov x y/n #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagines #ellora.writes

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maimingaffairs · 2 years ago

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Hiiii hope ur well

would u mind doing a darkling x moon summoner fix like she’s disguised as the queens gorgeous lady in waiting but she’s really the kings personal gaurd/assassin.

and aleksander finds out about her when she saves alina from the attack on the way to the little palace.

and of course u have free rein whether u want to continue this or have a jealous trope with Alina and I won’t shy away from smut lol (I’d love a scene where the moon summoner catches the contucdor at the winter fete and helps control his mind to get answers)

thank youuuu

SWEET ANON! i want to preface this with an apology, because it took me so long to write... and it is... a very long piece of writing. i hope it meets the mark though. it might be one of my personal faves that i've written. i love u <33

AS ALWAYS, PLEASE SEND IN REQUESTS <333333

warnings: canon typical violence, some angst

word count: 10.5k

The Dark Side of The Moon (aleksander morozova x fem! moon summoner! reader)

READ PART TWO HERE

He needed you.

No, he didn’t need you, he reasoned with himself. He just… really wanted you.

His hands were still in position, but The Cut he intended to use was long forgotten and faded. You stood behind him and he gaped at you from over his shoulder. You looked as lovely as ever, but even more so now that power was thrumming just underneath your skin, so freshly used.

The Fjerdan that had been a part of the ambush on the road back to Os Alta, lay over Alina with a smoking, gaping hole blown through his chest.

The girl pushed the body off of her in a panicked manner, and you dashed past the Black General and grabbed onto both of her hands to pull her to her feet gently.

“Breathe, breathe, Sankta Alina. You are safe.” You assured her and she stared up at you with wide eyes.

“Who are you?” She asked, almost belligerently.

You opened your mouth to answer her question and General Kirigan let out a low hum from behind the two of you.

“Yes, Lady y/n. Who are you, indeed?” He asked, walking towards you as if you were simply his prey.

He couldn’t help the glee that settled in his stomach when he looked at you and Alina. His Sun Summoner had finally been found. He could have gotten by with just her. And then there you were.

His Moon Summoner of legend. No one knew for certain if there was to be a Moon Summoner one day or if it was just tales of a desperate man, but The Black Heretic knew for certain that now he was indefinitely unstoppable.

“Are you insane, General Kirigan?” You asked angrily and he came back to the present moment to see that you’d wrapped your arms around Alina’s shoulders and pulled her against your chest while she let out sighs of distress.

You weren’t taller than the girl, if anything you were a few inches shorter, and this was an amusing sight for him to watch. You snapped a few times in his direction and you shook your head.

“You could’ve gotten her killed! Why didn’t you ride off alone with her?” You demanded and then you let go of the girl and rubbed your forehead, “Saints, Kirigan. She’s the Sun Summoner.”

You and him had always gotten along nicely, truth be told. You posed as the Queen’s Lady in Waiting, and whenever there were large events that the General would attend, you two often had friendly conversations. But you weren’t really just the Queen’s Lady in Waiting. And The General knew this. You served as the King’s personal assassin.

You’d never had to do much more than keep an eye on the man, thankfully, because in instances like that, you’d have to use your power. The power you tried to keep hidden.

When The King had heard word of the Sun Summoner being brought to the Capital, he’d sent you off to make sure that she and the General and his Grisha made it home safely.

He was right for that evidently.

The General didn’t seem to like your outburst and he approached the two of you and he reached up to twist a bit of your hair around his finger curiously. Silver strands glowed in the aftermath of your vicious outburst of power and he dropped the piece of your hair.

“Were you ever going to tell anyone that you are the Moon Summoner?” He asked slowly and you felt Alina’s eyes on your face.

You glanced up at the girl in front of you and then over your shoulder at Kirigan and you shook your head.

“No. Because I didn’t want to just be a saint. I’m much more than that, as you can see.” You said quietly and he hummed.

“Indeed you are, Lady y/n.” He said lowly and then he nodded to Alina, “She rides with me. Did you ride here on a horse?” He asked.

You gave him a nod and pointed at a white horse in the distance, speckled with grey.

“Excuse me? Can someone please explain what’s going on here?” Alina asked desperately and the two of you turned to her.

He beat you to answer her and he held his hand out for Alina, waiting for her to tentatively grab onto it.

“I have found my two lovely Saints now. All is right in the world.” He said with a grin and you felt a sense of unease in your stomach upon seeing his toothy grin.

The ride back to Os Alta was mostly silent. You had gone off ahead of the two on your horse, determined to get to the Capital as quickly as you could so that you could hurry yourself up to the Queen and spend the rest of the day in hiding. You knew what would happen if you ever revealed yourself. You’d be thrown to the wolves. Everyone would know your name, everyone would want to use you. From a young age, you’d learned to keep your powers a secret, and to only practice them alone.

As soon as your horse rode up onto the gravel path in front of the Little Palace, you jumped from your still moving horse and you gathered your cloak up and quickly ran towards the Grand Palace. You stumbled inside and slammed the doors behind you, despite guards trying to filter out to get outside to meet the General and the Sun Summoner. You pushed your way through a few guards until you got to the grand staircase and bustled up the marble stairs.

Once in the hallway, you smoothed down your riding clothes and walked quietly towards the King’s study. You tapped the door before you opened it and you stood in the doorway, peering in at the King and Prince Vasily who sat inside. You bowed your head respectfully and cleared your throat.

“Your Grace, I’ve delivered them safely. There were Fjerdans, just as you predicted, my Prince.” You reported and the two men nodded their heads.

“Thank you, My Lady. Please. Clean yourself up and return yourself to my mother’s side at once.” Vasily ordered and you didn’t protest.

Within the hour you’d gotten yourself thoroughly cleaned up and dressed with the help of a few servants, and you faithfully returned to your Queen’s side.

You didn’t mind the Queen. Not at all, really. She was a bit of an airhead and as vain as can be, but you much preferred her company to her husband’s or even Vasily. You didn’t even mind Nikolai, though you hadn’t seen the boy in many, many years.

You sat in silence next to the Queen for most of the afternoon as she had tea and read through her books, and you felt relieved to be away from the Grisha. Away from Alina Starkov. Away from General Kirigan.

Just as the thought of all three had slipped your mind, The General begged for your attention once more and you and the Queen both turned your head to the doorway of the Library to see Kirigan standing there. He bowed his head respectfully to the queen and he bent his knee ever so slightly.

“My Queen. May I steal your lovely Lady away for just a moment or two?” He asked, and the Queen raised an eyebrow.

“Why? What business do you have with her?” She asked and you wanted to swear under your breath. He was going to tell her, surely.

The reveal didn’t come, and instead, he gave a simple excuse.

“I think Miss Starkov needs someone kind and.. well… perhaps non Grisha to speak to. This new life must be hard for her and it’s even harder when there’s only reminders trying to soothe you.” He explained calmly, but you could see the way his fingers fidgeted behind his back from how his forearms flexed underneath his kefta.

“I suppose. Have her back by the time we finish dinner please.” She requested and the General nodded once and held his hand out for you.

“After you, Lady y/n.” He said primly.

You looked down at the Queen miserably and stood up. You held the skirts of your dress up off of the ground as you strode towards Kirigan, and you politely took his arm.

He led you away from the library, and as soon as you were out of earshot of the Queen, he cleared his throat.

“So. I believe a discussion is in order about your… abilities.” He said slowly and you shook your head.

“No. I don’t want to talk about them. I want you to forget about them. Please. They’re mine and mine alone.” You said softly.

Kirigan placed a hand at the small of your back and he very gently nudged you towards the doors that would take you outside to the Little Palace.

“You are a gift to this world, y/n. Why hide it? You, Alina, and I could accomplish so much. We could tear down the fold, we could further expand it, we could bring the sun and the moon down to touch the earth. Yet you deny Ravka of these wonders. Why?” He asked and stepped outside with you. He carefully guided you down a small set of stairs and you shrugged.

“I don’t know,” you said cautiously. Or perhaps it was fearfully. You weren’t sure.

“Well, you’d be doing a great service to this great country by embracing who you are meant to be… what was it you called Alina? Ah yes. Sankta y/n.” He finished and you shuddered at the sound of it.

There was power dripping from the title he gave you and you would be lying if you said it didn’t appeal to you somewhat. But you quickly shook the thought away from your head and instead decided to become fascinated with a fraying bit of lace on the bodice of your dress.

“I don’t know, General.” You finally replied as the two of you walked into the Little Palace.

“You’re destined for great things, my Moonbeam.” He said softly and then took one of your hands in his, stopping you in the middle of an empty hallway, “You don’t have to agree, but I would encourage you to accept your Grisha side and come here to train with Alina. We three are destined for something ethereal.” He said gently and reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

Little butterflies erupted in your stomach and your mouth was suddenly dry.

“I’ll think about it.” You whispered, and he brushed a thumb over your cheek as he pulled his hand away from your hair

“Good girl. I know you’ll make the right decision.

Whether it was the right decision or not, you did in fact choose to join Kirigan. When you told him, he was elated. In his own way. His dark eyes gleamed proudly and he had taken you by the hand and promised you greatness, and truthfully, you believed he’d deliver.

But training was simply kicking your ass.

You knew how to handle your powers, that wasn’t hard. But to advance them and use them in ways you’d never even imagined? That was hard.

Typically, you’d spend most of your time around Kirigan as he insisted that he was best to train you, but sometimes you were stuck going down to the training yard or to Baghra.

Baghra was a woman full of disdain and had a certain distaste for you, it seemed. Sometimes it was as if she was trying to scare you away from your training entirely.

Like right now, for instance.

You sat with your legs crossed in a shabby little wooden chair while the old woman paced the room in silence. You wanted to ask her what she was pacing for, but you didn’t want to face her wrath. So you instead watched her go back and forth, like a slow, unsteady pendulum.

Finally her eyes met yours and she stopped moving, her thin lips becoming even thinner as she pursed them together.

“I’m no longer sure what to do with you, admittedly.” She said, her words slow and well thought upon.

You arched an eyebrow curiously and she only shrugged and sat across from you, folding her bony hands properly across her lap.

“You know what you’re doing. That’s more than Alina can say. But you aren’t great. You won’t hardly be successful or powerful. Do you know why?”

You didn’t verbally ask her to tell you why. You only leaned forward a bit and held your hands out questioningly.

She tutted at you and then she leaned back a bit in her chair.

“You’re doing this for all the wrong reasons, so when you’re faced with the reality of the situation, you are no longer motivated to use your power accordingly. I think that would have a lot to do with The General, wouldn’t you think so?” She asked, almost accusingly.

“The finger pointing is a bit juvenile, isn’t it, Baghra?” You asked in a flat tone, “If you have an accusation to make, best be direct.”

It was her turn to cock an eyebrow now and she let out a little scoff.

“Alright then, little girl, let me be frank. You are doing this because of your attraction to the General. Not because you want to tear down The Fold. Alina may not be good with her power yet, but make no mistake; she wants only to liberate this country. What do you want? A moment of approval from a man? A pat on the head like a kitten?”

You slowly rose from the chair and you towered over the woman, shaking your head, your jaw setting tersely.

“Preposterous. You cannot possibly fathom why I am doing this.”

“Correct, girl. I cannot fathom what motivates you. I never claimed to. All I claimed to know is what you’re doing it for. Tell me this: do you believe that this will bring you the affection you crave?”

You stared her down incredulously before you shook your head.

“This is absurd. I am leaving.” You snapped and turned sharply.

You stormed towards the door, your fingertips vibrating just slightly, and when you looked down, silvery light made your skin light up ever so slightly. You grit your teeth and pushed open her door and walked out, making sure to slam it behind you.

You didn’t crave his affection. You didn’t want a pat on the head.

You walked off up to the courtyard, lost in angry thought.

Come to think of it though, The Fold had hardly crossed your mind during the weeks of training you’d been subjected to. Kirigan never spoke of it when you two were together. Most of the time you’d spent with him was just… casual conversation between two friends. Sometimes he’d give you his hand and allow you to mess around with your power with the aid of his amplification.

But otherwise, it wasn’t much else more.

You slowed your steps until you were stopped entirely near the doors to the Little Palace and you blinked a few times.

There was no way that Baghra was right. But she wasn’t really wrong, either.

Why were you doing this?

That was the question that kept you up that night.

You laid in your bed across the hall from the Queen’s room and you tossed and turned for the whole two hours you were laying down.

Your mind raced relentlessly, replaying what Baghra had earlier said, her words echoing like church bells in your head.

You groaned frustratedly and you pushed yourself up out of bed and reached out in the dim light of the moon to grab onto your robe that hung from one of the posts on your bed. You tossed it around your shoulders and slid your arms into the thin sleeves and tied it up tightly. You moved your hair over one shoulder and slid on a pair of flat, slipper-like shoes, and you rushed out of your bedroom.

You’d go wake Alina. That’s what you’d do. Talk to her about this entire thing, hear what she would have to say about it. You sighed quietly and walked down through the winding halls of the Grand Palace until you reached the double doors that led out to the Little Palace. You padded out over the grounds and you glanced around cautiously, chewing on your bottom lip.

When you finally got inside of the Little Palace, you walked determinedly down the hallway towards Alina’s room before you stopped at a crossroads. There was hardly any light in the halls at this time of the night, yet down the hallway that held Kirigan’s room, there was a sliver of light under his door. You glanced back at the hallway that would take you to Alina and you thought for a moment before you turned and walked hurriedly through a hallway.

You didn’t even think or have half the mind to knock before you pushed open the doors to General Kirigan’s room.

If the much taller man was surprised to see you intruding in his room, he didn’t make any indication of such a feeling. Instead, he just eyed you from his position, bent over his war table. You took a step inside his room and closed the doors behind you, letting out a long sigh.

“Do you do this often to The Royal Family? Or are unannounced intrusions reserved for me?” He asked and then looked back down at his table.

When you didn’t answer, he flickered his dark eyes back up to you and looked you up and down a few times, and suddenly you felt very naked underneath his gaze, despite being clothed.

“I just… I…” you trailed off and suddenly felt very foolish to barge into his personal chambers without so much as a knock and you looked down at the ground.

“You just what?” He demanded, but his tone wasn’t harsh. Only curious.

“I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know. I intended on rousing Alina but I don’t know what happened. I just… found myself here.” You answered, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

He continued to stare at you for a while and then he shook his head once, reaching out to beckon you forward.

“Well. Are you going to stand by the doors for the remainder of the night? Come join me over here.” He suggested and you slowly made your way across the floor to him.

You felt a pang of nervousness in your chest. A new feeling around him. Usually you felt much more at ease around The Darkling, but now you just felt so small.

You finally rounded the table to stand at his side, and you met his eyes which had followed you from the door to his side.

“Would you like me to make you some tea?” He asked and reached out to twist a piece of your hair around his finger, a habit that he had made within the last few weeks.

“No, I don’t think that would help much. But thank you.”

He looked down at you and he let out a sigh, “I am not sure why you came to me, then. I cannot lull you to sleep, my sweet moonbeam.”

His words sent you fumbling for your own and you blinked a few times. You only shrugged in lieu of speaking and looked down at his war table.

You watched him lift his arm out of your periphery and nearly jumped when you felt his hand gently touch the side of your face. He carefully turned your face towards his and he cradled your face against his palm. His touch was gentle, and you wondered if he’d ever been this delicate with anything in his life before.

“Would you like that? Is that why you came to me? Did you want me to lull you to sleep? Soothe all your worries away?” He asked slowly.

Though his words could easily have been mocking, his tone was light and kind and full of something you placed between want and concern.

“I don’t know.” You whispered and nuzzled your cheek into the palm of his hand.

He clicked his tongue against the top of his mouth, “That isn’t really an answer.” He commented.

You knew it wasn’t. And you knew he was far too sharp to think otherwise. You couldn’t fool him, and you knew that. He could read you like an open book, he always could, even when you two were simple acquaintances. But you couldn’t really call yourselves acquaintances now. Could you even say friends?

He trained you often, and much of your time was spent with the General, much more than with the Queen these days. He knew so much about you. Some from being told by you, some from guessing and confirmation from you, but mostly what he knew about you went unspoken. He knew you were lonely, he didn’t need to ask you that. He’d deduced it quickly after your time spent with him.

You only kept your eyes on his nose and his thumb idly brushed back and forth against the side of your cheekbone, the contact making your skin tingle underneath his touch.

You finally closed your eyes and focused on the faint sweeping noises the pad of his thumb made across your skin and a little sigh escaped your lips pleasantly.

“What keeps you awake?” He asked very quietly, and you let out an equally quiet hum.

“Many things. Perhaps I just don’t belong here. I lack purpose. I’m better off how I was before.”

His fingers curled around the back of your head and he pulled you a little bit closer to him.

“You lack no such thing.” He protested.

“Then what is my purpose? To help you tear down The Fold with Alina? To become a living Saint? I don’t want that. I don’t want to become a bedtime story. I was meant for more. I was meant for the things they leave out of bedtime stories.” You whispered and you could’ve sworn you heard his breath hitch.

“Your purpose does not align with the Sun Summoner’s. Indeed you are correct. You were meant for more. She walks in the light. She walks with the light. You wait in the dark, you strike from the darkness where no one watches. You and I are more alike than you could ever imagine.” He said just above a whisper, but the quietness of his voice did nothing to conceal the intensity of which he spoke with.

“I don’t know what I am.” You breathed and opened your eyes only to find his just inches away from yours.

“You are the silver flicker of light in the dark and then you are the darkness.” He answered earnestly.

You closed your eyes again, and as soon as you did, you were swept forward into his arms. He pulled your head against the center of his chest and wrapped his other arm around your middle. There was something oddly protective about his embrace and he ran his fingers through the hair at the back of your head.

“Let me lull you to sleep, little one. You need a reprieve from your mind.” He insisted.

You gave him a permissive nod against his chest and he very slowly walked you away from the table and he sunk down into an armchair. He pulled you down onto his lap and he lifted your legs up over the side of the chair. You curled your head against his chest much like a cat and you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck, your legs dangling over the side of the chair.

You took in his scent as you buried your face against his clothes and were comforted to find that he smelled of leather and something of embers, and then something sweet yet faint that you couldn’t place.

You opened your eyes when he grabbed one of your arms away from his neck and laid it against your chest before he reached up with the same hand and traced his fingertips against your skin, and a warm feeling washed over you. Everywhere his fingers touched, a silvery blue trail of light followed underneath your skin.

“Sleep, little one.” He cooed and you closed your eyes again, obeying him.

The last thing you remembered before sleep overcame you was his voice above your head, muttering what you recognized as sweet nothings in his native Ravkan tongue.

He had indeed lulled you right to sleep.

In the days after you had fallen asleep on him, The General had been very insistent that you were with him for the majority of your day. He claimed your skill set was of use to him, and truthfully, he was right. Even before you were his Moon Summoner, you were the King’s assassin, and you didn’t need your power for the things you’d accomplished there.

Around his entourage and Corporalki, you were treated as if you were his most esteemed soldier. But behind closed doors and away from prying eyes, his intense and hard demeanor was gone and he was softer with you, kinder. He always had been kind to you, but this was different. It was a different type of kindness.

The morning after you had fallen asleep on him, you awoke in his bed, the black sheets tucked around you with care. He hadn’t been in the bed next to you, but you hadn’t expected that of him. He was an early riser.

You wondered if he had slept next to you at any point during the night. You couldn’t remember. In fact, you didn’t even remember him moving you to his bed. You wanted to ask him if he had, but it seemed listless. Even if he had, it hadn’t mattered. Or did it? Sharing a bed was typically something you only did with someone you trusted, and Kirigan didn’t seem like someone who’d just open his bed up to anyone.

It was the best sleep you’d had in quite a long time, that was for certain.

It was just past noon when you finally emerged from The Grand Palace and made your way to The Little Palace. You had pulled your hair up into an intricate braid and you fiddled with the ends of it as you walked. Once inside, you spotted Alina walking down the hall and you hurried up to her and gently grabbed her arm and gave her a little smile.

She didn’t return the smile, instead she looked anxious and unhappy. You pulled her off to the side and stopped walking, eyeing her with concern.

“Has something happened?” You asked and she sighed, a long sigh that had sounded like it had been pent up for a long time.

“I’ve been informed I’m to showcase my… powers in front of everyone during The Winter Fete.” She said anxiously.

You raised an eyebrow and then shook your head a few times, “Who told you this?” You asked, feeling a bit of frustration. If Alina was to showcase her talents, then surely you’d be asked to as well, and that was specifically not something you wanted to do.

“Kirigan. David, too. Genya. All of them. I don’t want to be presented like a show pony.” She stated and then you sympathetically patted her arm.

“I understand. No one does.” You agreed and she let out a short laugh and pulled her arm away from your gentle grasp.

“Well. Why don’t you work your magic and tell Aleksander to call it off.” She suggested.

You blinked in confusion and then you tipped your head to the side.

“Aleksander? I’m afraid I don’t know an Aleksander.” You replied, eyes searching her face.

“Kirigan. It’s his name. Aleksander. Did he not tell you?” She asked you as if it was one of the most common things to have known.

“No?”

Ouch.

In all the time you’d spent with The General getting closer to him, he’d never once told you his first name. He didn’t talk much about himself, and when he did it was vague, ambiguous. Everything about himself was left up to interpretation.

He liked it that way, you noticed. It left more room for mystery. It kept anyone from crossing the brooding man, because simply no one knew definitely just who he was or just how ruthless or constrained he could be.

“Oh. Well then perhaps don’t mention you heard it from me. I’ve got to get down to Baghra. Please just… do what you are able to about this situation. I am not ready to be a spectacle in front of Ravka.” She pleaded and then walked off.

You stood against the wall for a moment, listening to her footsteps echo until they were gone entirely. An eclectic range of frustrations began to make your fingertips tingle and you pushed away from the wall. You walked with intent to The General’s room, your brow knitting together in annoyance.

His door was the only thing that made you come to a stop and before you could decide against it, you pushed it open and stepped inside of his room.

He didn’t have to look up to know who it was. You were the only one that dared come unannounced, after all.

He sat at his desk on the far end of the room with a thin parchment letter in his hand and he didn’t tear his dark gaze off of the paper as he held his hand out in your direction. He outstretched his pointer and middle fingers and curled them in the air at you in a ‘come here’ motion and you did.

You stomped petulantly towards his desk and you laid your hand down firmly on the desktop with a quiet thump.

Now, you had his full attention. He lifted his inky eyes towards you slowly and he took in your appearance before he slowly laid the letter down.

“You are upset.” He observed and you simply scoffed and folded your arms across your chest.

“What gave it away?”

“Perhaps the stomping like a child. Or maybe it’s the fact that you can’t hide your emotions on your face. Do you intend on telling me why you’re cross? Or did you have another reason for this visit?” He asked and leaned backwards in his chair casually.

“I don’t know, Aleksander. Maybe I just wanted to come in here and pout.” You snapped.

Now it was his turn to fold his arms across his chest and he looked up at you with amusement, the same kind of amusement a parent would watch a fractious child with.

“Ah, you’ve been speaking with Miss Starkov, it seems.”

You stared at him in disbelief. That was it? That was all he had to say? You nearly stomped your foot down on the hard floor but refrained, not wanting his amusement to grow.

“Why wouldn’t you have told me your name as well?” You asked, and you hadn’t realized how stupid you sounded until just now, but you had no intention of backing down at this point.

“Would that have pleased you, lapushka?” He asked with a little grin and you snorted, turning your head away from him.

“I don’t care. It’s your name. You do what you want with it. I just figured perhaps we were closer than that.”

“Why do you figure that? Because you fell asleep in my arms like a little kitten? Or because you woke in my bed?”

You felt your heart drop to your stomach and you turned towards him, a frown covering your lips. You didn’t answer him, you simply stared disdainfully into his caliginous eyes. His words had hit you like a slap across the face, so real that you almost wanted to hold your cheek.

“Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t say you were unjust in feeling that way. I just asked if that was your reasoning to figure we were close.” He replied once he realized you weren’t going to speak. He clicked his tongue and rose up from his chair and stalked towards you, reaching out with a hand to grab your chin.

“My ambiguity is one of my greatest layers of armor.” He started.

But you cut him off.

“Right. But you’ll tell the first pretty girl that catches your eye your name and give up that ambiguity. Very selective of you.”

He unfurled his finger from his grip on your chin and he tapped your lips to silence you.

“Sometimes, to soften someone to your liking, you must strip away a piece of your armor. Miss Starkov is apprehensive at best regarding her situation. You require no such softening.” He explained and you took notice of the fact that he hadn’t bothered to move his finger away from your lips.

“You trust me, and for that I am lucky and I am grateful. I needn’t reveal bits of myself to you just to make you trust in me. You simply just do. Little Moon Saint, I don’t need to take off my armors around you. You take them off for me whenever we are alone, whether you realize it or not.”

You shook your head just slightly and gazed up at him, warmth gathering under his touch on your face.

“I know hardly anything about you.” You whispered, “How can I be removing your armor when I know nothing about you still?”

He shushed you and he leaned closer to your face, to where you could feel the air coming softly from his nose and you closed your eyes for a brief second before opening them again.

“Most things about me go unspoken. I like it that way. You don’t need to know my history to know me. You don’t need me to beg you to trust me. You don’t question the deaths caused by my hands, and you know very well I don’t question the lives taken by yours. I told you. We are more alike than you could ever imagine.” He explained, his voice lowering, almost in reverence now, “Everything inside of me wants for you.”

This, you weren’t expecting.

And if that was a surprise to hear, it was even more of a surprise to feel his lips crash down against your own.

The day of The Winter Fete came quickly. Thankfully, Aleksander had shared your sentiments in not wanting to have you display your power for the party. In fact, he was quite adamant on you being a secret kept from the rest of the world away from the palaces. You were thankful for that.

You’d practically been inseparable from him in the weeks since he’d kissed you. He’d kissed you a handful of times in the time since then, too. Somewhere in the realm of the things that went unspoken but were simply known between the two of you, it had become evident that there were strong feelings between both of you.

You hardly shied away from those feelings. If anything you were diving headfirst into them, which it seemed he was doing the same, because he’d insisted a handful of times in the last few weeks that you stay and sleep with him in his room.

You liked to think that you cured his loneliness in the same way he had cured yours but you hadn’t had any confirmation on your daydream.

So, there you sat, perched upon his desk while he nimbly unboxed a long, black gown for you. He held it up for you to see and you hummed approvingly. It was black with threads of dark blue and silver embroidered onto it in swirls and star like patterns. You smiled up at him and raised an eyebrow at him.

“What? No kefta for me? Do you think me to be delicate?” You teased and Aleksander let out a slow laugh before he laid the dress down on his bed and walked to you. He gently pulled you off of the desk and turned you around. He undid the buttons on the back of the current dress you wore and he tapped the back of your neck.

“You are anything but delicate. Trust me. As much as I’d like to see you in a kefta, this isn’t the time for you to be revealed. You must keep up appearances, Lady y/n.” He explained and moved back only a step once your dress was undone.

You blushed a bit and held the loose dress up to your chest, hesitating to take off your dress in front of him.

Aleksander sensed this and he placed his hands gently on your elbows, “Would you like me to give you the room so that you can change in privacy?” He asked kindly, brushing his thumbs against your elbows.

You shook your head. It’s not like you really minded, but you still had a set of nerves at the thought of undressing in front of the man you adored.

You let out a very quiet, shaky breath and you let the dress fall away from your shoulders and you slowly stepped out of it, leaving you in only your underwear before him. You didn’t dare turn around, for if you did, Aleksander would’ve seen the horrific blush that covered your cheeks now.

His hands found yours as they lay at your sides and he gently interlocked your fingers before he leaned forward and pressed a gossamer light kiss against the nape of your neck. You shivered under his lips and you could feel them curl into a smug smile against your skin.

“I didn’t take you for the shy type, little one.” He murmured and very slowly lifted his lips away from your neck.

You didn’t respond to him, you simply gave his hands a light squeeze, but much to your dismay, he pulled away and you heard him walk away from you. There was a swish of fabric behind you and then he was back, gently placing a hand on your waist to move you towards him a bit. He didn’t turn you around, and you were thankful for that.

Instead, he reached around you and held your dress in front of you for you to step into it. You were used to being dressed, it was common practice for you and had been for years because of your place at court. But this felt different, and though he was dressing you, you couldn’t help but feel as if Aleksander was at the core of it all, stripping you completely naked. There was a different kind of vulnerability to letting him dress you.

You stepped into the dress and he slowly pulled it up over your hips and you slipped your arms into the sleeves and he lifted the bodice of the dress up over your shoulders completely and pulled it taut before he began to button up the long row of buttons at your back. After the last button was done up, he tied the ribbon at your waist tightly and then he encircled you in his arms from behind, tugging you backwards until you were pulled flush against his chest.

“I wish desperately that I could parade you on my arm all night. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a color look so lovely on anyone.” He whispered, resting his chin down against your shoulder.

You leaned the side of your head against his and you placed your hands down on top of his wrists.

“And I wish that you could kiss me breathless in a room, far away from the party, but alas, it seems we have duties to attend to.”

“Such a shame, isn’t it?” He asked playfully and with a hint of reluctance, pulled away from you.

You finally willed yourself to turn around and face him.

A look of reverence crossed his face and he reached out to cup the side of your face in one hand. The look in his lightless eyes was unreadable, but you got the sense his stare was altogether pleasant.

“Tell me something.” He murmured and reached out to brush the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip.

“Hmm?”

“Do you trust me?” He asked, though you felt like he was asking something entirely different. The look in his eye told you that he didn’t want to know if you found him to be trustworthy. His words unspoken were louder than the ones he’d verbalized.

No, he meant to ask ‘do you trust me with your heart?’

You searched his face for a long moment before you finally nodded once and you watched as a flicker of relief splashed across his face, and for a second, you swore his eyes sparkled with tears that had been long since blinked away.

He leaned in to kiss your forehead once and he dropped his hand away from your face and walked to the wardrobe next to his bed. He pulled on the rest of his clothing, save for his kefta, and you sunk down on a little sofa next to his bed, pulling your legs up underneath you as you watched him.

He adjusted the collar of his shirt and as he did, the sound of footsteps distracted you from watching the man get ready.

“Ivan. My kefta.” He called out, but once you looked past him, you could see that Ivan was not in the room. Only Alina.

She took his heavy kefta off of his war table and approached him with hesitancy, not saying a word.

When he turned around, his face changed in surprise and he shook his head once.

“You’re not Ivan.” He remarked.

Alina looked down at the kefta in her arms and shifted a bit.

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“Do I sense a little disdain for my Heartrender?” Aleksander asked, clearly amused now.

You lifted your hand up to rest against the side of the sofa and moved close to the edge, perching yourself to stand.

“You know, once you get to know him, he’s actually quite funny.” He added and you very slowly rose to your feet, your dress swishing.

It didn’t rouse either of their attentions.

“I bet you find volcra hilarious.” Alina quipped, eyes transfixed intently on Aleksander.

He gave her a smile and she nodded to the kefta in her arms.

“May I?” She asked, unfolding the thick garment.

“Thank you.” He replied and turned around, allowing the Sun Summoner to slide the kefta around his shoulders.

You eyed them warily and stayed silent, your teeth searching for a bit of your cheek you could bite down on.

“I hear you were able to focus and split light without the gloves.” He spoke, eyeing you as he got his kefta on with her help.

“I appreciate the gesture, though.” She responded, and you pressed your lips together.

You stepped in front of Aleksander and pulled the lapels of his kefta forward to adjust the coat, your brow furrowing only slightly. You didn’t miss the amused smile that made the corners of his lips curl upwards before he turned back towards Alina.

“Well, they were only a safeguard, really. In case of nerves.” He informed her, and you watched as the girl leaned slightly closer to Aleksander.

Half of you had made peace with the fact that you and Aleksander didn’t make it incredibly public knowledge that you… were together? Was that even the right way to describe your situation? You didn’t know how to answer that. Yet, the other half of you, despite clarification on where you stood with him, wanted to pull him backwards and stand between the two of them. You almost gagged in spite of yourself. Or maybe it was in spite of them.

“I imagine there are few gatherings in Keramzin that involve such… spectacle.” He commented down at her and you wanted to speak up. Make them aware that you were still in the room.

No. Don’t. You told yourself.

“None, in fact.” Alina answered.

She peered over his shoulder and caught your eyes. You weren’t sure of what your face looked like, but she widened her eyes and quickly moved away from him.

“But I’m actually not that nervous! I may have considered throwing myself down the stairs to get out of it once or twice.” She left his bed chambers and much to your antipathy, he followed her.

You stood back for a moment as they continued to chat before you gathered the skirts of your dress and walked through the doorway of his bed chambers and brushed past the two of them, squaring your shoulders as you passed by. You slipped out of the room with a sigh of annoyance and you walked down the hallway. You listened to the taps of your boots against the marble floors and you puffed out your cheeks.

Jealousy wasn’t something that came naturally or easily to you. You’d always been sure of yourself, aware that you were likely the prettiest face in the room, confident in your abilities and powers. You were almost sick to admit that perhaps you were jealous of Alina.

She got to be by his side tonight. She got to wear a kefta just like him. She got to be shown off to the rest of the world as Ravka’s saving grace.

You didn’t want that for yourself. Not really. But you didn’t want it for her, either, selfishly.

Did you even have a right to feel jealous? It’s not like Aleksander had explicitly said that you were his and he was yours. You felt fair in assuming such, but then again, you’d always been a little too sure of yourself.

You simply shook the thought away and headed off to report to the Queen.

“Oh, it’s nothing, moya tsaritsa. Only a little headache. I’ll be off to find a healer and back to the party before you know it.”

Lie.

You felt bad lying to the Queen as you rose from your seat next to her and scurried out of the room. You’d made yourself scarce all day, with the exception of being with the Queen, and you planned on keeping the pattern.

You just didn’t want to watch Aleksander and Alina.

You walked out to the courtyard and weaved around horses and guests until you were on the outskirts of the palace grounds. You were thankful that you could finally breathe without sharing the breath with someone else in your proximity. The cool evening’s air swirled around what skin of yours was exposed and it chilled your cheeks, tinting them pink. You flexed your fingers a bit and tapped imaginary points in the air at your sides, little fissures of silvery light appearing underneath your fingertips.

You tried your best to be apathetic about everything that you’d felt during the day, and you kept walking, approaching a thick bramble of trees.

A loud scream escaped your lips when you felt a cold hand clasp around your wrist and you yanked your wrist back, stumbling backwards on the uneven path. You fell back and caught yourself on your elbows, preparing your hands to summon the moon. Your eyes settled upon a head of white hair and you furiously widened your eyes.

“Baghra!” You yelled and looked down at your dress. It was dusty from the dirt and you could feel a little tear in your sleeve, just above your elbow, “What is the meaning of this?” You asked angrily.

You climbed to your feet and stared down at the old woman, your lips tugging downwards in a heavy frown.

“Don’t look at me like that, girl. You need to get away from here as quickly as you can.” She stated venomously and you gaped at her. You shook your head with a dry laugh and you went to speak but she cut you off instantly.

“You are being used, you stupid girl. Aleksander. He is using you. Just the same way he is using the sun girl. I am warning you, y/n, please. You must go. I will tell her the same thing but hear me now-“

“What are you going on about?” You asked snappily, your eyes narrowing on her.

“You and Alina Starkov are but pawns in Aleksander’s game. He does not mean to liberate Ravka from The Fold. He does not mean to create heroes out of the three of you. Has he promised you otherwise?”

“No. He hardly speaks of The Fold to me.” You replied defensively. Your hand formed fists at your side and you could feel your fingers begin to thrum with the electric feeling of the moon pooling within them.

“No? Perhaps he’s just too busy distracting you with sweet words and little touches? Keeping you from your lessons, insisting you don’t need them, only to drown you with his attention. Making you feel special and perhaps even loved?”

You didn’t respond, and your silence became her indication to keep speaking.

“Trust me, stupid girl. He’s making Alina feel the same exact way.” She finished and then she shook her head, “Do what you will, Lady y/n. You’ve always known this to be your home. I understand it must be hard to fathom leaving, but if you want to live free of chains, you’ll go. I’ve arranged safe passage out of Os Alta tonight. If you wish to join Alina, then you’ll meet her and I down the hill behind The Grand Palace. Half past midnight.”

You stared at her in disbelief and you wanted to argue, but she had already turned and retreated back into the trees, and you swore that you watched shadows engulf her.

You were only human at your very core.

That’s what you kept telling yourself as you cried into your hands on your balcony. Only human at your very core… right?

Who knew if Baghra was right? At least about Aleksander’s intentions. This isn’t what bothered you.

“He’s making Alina feel the same exact way.” Her words echoed in your head and only made you cry harder, and you let out a frustrated groan and you hit the side of your head with the heel of your hand, as if the impact would knock the thought right out of your mind.

It would explain her behavior earlier that day. It would easily explain how she, too, knew his name- and before you. It explained the way she gazed up at him; dreamily, as if she’d fallen head over heels already.

You weren’t going to leave Os Alta, that was for certain. You couldn’t. You adored your Queen and you hadn’t known a life outside of the Ravkan Capital. You’d just learn to avoid Aleksander. Perhaps that was a good thing. It would cease your distractions from the Queen and King.

“I’ve never seen you cry before. I don’t like it.”

You jumped at the sound of Aleksander’s voice behind you and you wrapped your arms around yourself and you shook your head.

“Go away please.” You whispered.

You didn’t really want him to go away. Not deep down, at least. He probably knew that, too. He knew you better than anyone.

Hands gently grabbed your arms and coaxed you away from the iron railing of your balcony and you were being turned around before you could protest it. You didn’t meet his eyes when you were moved to face him.

“I have been made aware that Baghra sought you out. I don’t know what was said, but I’m sure I can only assume it had something to do with planting doubt in your mind based on the way she was sure you’d have run far away from here by now. But you aren’t a runner. I know that.”

His words made more tears spill over your cheeks and you still refused to look at him until he tapped underneath your chin and tilted your head backwards slightly.

“I care not about your intentions with The Fold, Aleksander. I said I trusted you and I meant it. Perhaps that’s where I went wrong though. Because I do care that you were stringing me along at the same time as Alina. If you needed something of me, it would’ve been best to lay it out on the table. Not bury me in your sweet kisses and words until I was nothing but a mindless slave with no questions for you.”

“Is that what you believe you are to be to me? A mindless slave?” He asked and you simply shrugged.

You expected an angry outburst, you expected him to chastise you loudly, but it never came. Instead, he took your face in his hands and he swiped his thumbs underneath your wet eyes to rid you of the tears on your cheeks.

“You are strong and you are intelligent. No one could make a mindless slave out of you. Not even I. My kisses and gentle words are reserved for you and you alone. Not Alina. Never Alina. You, however. Oh, how do I begin? Ever since I watched you kill that Fjerdan, I knew that I had to have you by my side. One way or another. Though, as a lover was preferable.

You are disarming in the most wonderful way, and though you may not know all of my secrets yet, you have already released them from their chambers. I’m tempted to call you a thief with the way you’ve stolen my heart away, but if I’m to be honest with you, y/n, I’d be lying if I said I didn't hand it to you willingly.” He murmured earnestly. His eyes shone with his own tears, and though they never fell, the message was still there.

You fell forward over his chest and laid your head on the center of it and his arms weaved around you protectively. Defensively. Adoringly.

He showered kisses atop your head and you two stood in silence for a very long time like that.

Perhaps you’d be burned for trusting him this way. In every way. Perhaps you wouldn’t. Only time would tell. But in that moment, all that mattered was that he was there. Questions about Baghra’s words could wait. They weren’t meant to be spoken now. No words were meant to be spoken now.

Until he did finally speak.

“My love, I do hate to ruin such tender moments, but I’m in desperate need of your help. There will be plenty of time for me to make up for every single tear spilled from your pretty eyes this evening, and that I promise you. However, your skill set is needed.” He said softly, his tone apologetic.

You stayed against his chest for a while longer and then finally nodded, “Of course. Whatever you need, Aleksander.”

You walked hand in hand with The Darkling down the candlelit hallway, deep within the Palace, and you two were accompanied by one of his Squallers, Zoya.

Aleksander had filled you in quickly. Alina had been kidnapped and there had been an attempt on her life. You couldn’t help but feel relieved that you hadn’t been the one on his arm all night now. They now held a man associated with the crime deep underneath the Palace, and they needed him to talk.

That’s where you came in.

“Has he talked?” He asked, his hand tightening around yours in a manner you could only imagine was protective.

“A lot of lies,” Zoya answered, “Ivan’s with him.”

You entered the room with him and Zoya and your eyes fell upon Ivan’s intimidating figure standing tall behind a small, pudgy man who was bound to a chair.

“I’ve been swindled,” The man said simply, desperation twinging his words, “hoodwinked.”

Aleksander didn’t seem to care and he squeezed your hand once more.

“My guards tell me that they caught you fleeing the scene of the crime.” He spoke.

You rolled your shoulders back and stood tall, carefully releasing your hand. If you were to get answers out of this man, he had to fear you. You didn’t much command fear while clutching your General’s hand.

“Yes. I followed them.” The man insisted.

“Followed whom?” Aleksander prompted, lifting his head curiously.

“They come from the other side of The Fold. From the start, they seemed, just, a bit off to me, so when they left our stage, at the fete, I followed them. To see what they were up to, and at the time that I walked into that room, they were gone and… Saints, it was… unspeakable. So I ran… I…”

You snorted and then you stepped forward, “No, that’s not the truth.” You interjected and then looked to Ivan with a raised eyebrow.

“He did cross The Fold with the others,” Ivan began, “The rest were lies.”

You gave a satisfied nod and you looked up at Aleksander who swept his hand out for you, inviting you to step closer to the man.

The man began to insist that he wasn’t lying, but you and everyone else in that room knew, you couldn’t lie to a Heartrender.

You stepped behind the man and you laid your hands on his temples, “Do you want to tell the truth to The General?” You asked lowly. He didn’t respond.

“Do you know we keep records of everyone who crosses The Fold?” Aleksander began, and then rattled off the known passages for the evening.

“You didn’t cross with them. Did you?” You asked, leaning down close to his ear.

He shuddered but he didn’t answer. You looked up at Aleksander who nodded and you closed your eyes. Your fingertips began to glow and they grew so cold that they burned, you pressed them tightly against the man’s skin and he clenched his teeth. You eased off a bit and then cleared your throat.

“You have another way across The Fold. What is it?” You asked slowly.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He protested, but Ivan cut him off.

“He does.”

You sighed and brought forth your power again, this time a bit more and he winced sharply as the bitter cold from your fingers cut into his skin and left it frostbitten.

“I’m an entertainer!” He exclaimed, “Oskar, Oskar Krepkov!” He shouted as you pushed more of your light forth, watching his veins turn white and stony underneath your touch, just as they’d been filled with moonstone.

You eased off when Aleksander came towards the two of you and lifted up the man’s sleeve.

“Well that is certainly entertaining. You are The Conductor,” he said darkly, revealing scars of tallies up his inner forearm, “Arken Visser, are you not?“ he pulled away from the man and gave you a nod again as he walked away.

“You smuggle Grisha out of my palace! You help them abandon the war effort.”

“No, I deal in-“ he was cut off by a sudden sharp pain in his head, caused by you pressing the heels of your hands to the hardened veins over his temples. You closed your eyes tightly and worked to spread the unforgiving cold of your light through his head, feeling it spread through his veins while Aleksander questioned the man about a woman named Nina.

You zoned back in as Aleksander finished, and you opened your eyes to look up at him.

“…might that have something to do with you, Mr. Visser?” He asked, in reference to Nina’s disappearance.

“No.” He answered shakily, his teeth now beginning to chatter. You were lowering his body temperature by now surely, and his lips began to glaze over, tinted with blue.

“I don’t!” He protested again, his voice shaky. Ivan confirmed this and the man let out a shaking sigh, “See?”

“May I interject?” You asked and looked up at Aleksander who nodded once.

“By all means, Darling. Speak your mind.” He said with a little grin licking at the corners of his lips.

“You might want to begin talking, Mr. Visser. Your heart is slowing and you are freezing from the inside out. The light of the moon is a cold one.” You whispered and you felt him stiffen under your hands.

Aleksander had a proud smirk on his face and he glanced back down at Arken.

“My guess, you struck a deal with these three thieves to kidnap Alina Starkov. But you have a stronger relationship with a certain West Ravkan general, who has notions of ruling his own country. So long as The Fold separates him from us- darling, I think you’re being too gentle with him,” he added for you, and then walked around the chair, brushing past you gently, “So you made another deal. You put on a disguise. And you played at being assassin.”

You took a deep breath and summoned more of your power, the beams of light from your hands beginning to sear into the skin of his temples.

“That’s right!” He cried, in obvious pain, “The prize to bring her back to Ketterdam was a million! Split four ways. But Zlatan offered me the same number… to kill her, so,” he let out another scream as you tightened your grip on his head and Aleksander’s eyes widened, “you give me half that, I’ll get revenge for you. I can get close to Zlatan!” He tried to bargain, but he didn’t have much left to bargain with.

Aleksander looked at Ivan and Zoya pointedly and they began to walk away.

“No.” Aleksander answered and then looked up at you, “I think I’ll handle that myself. And I think… I’ll let my lovely Moon Summoner handle you.”

He gave you a short nod and stood with his hands behind his back and you nodded back at him.

Arken began to scream and protest between the chattering of his teeth and you rolled your shoulders back, and just like the Fjerdan that attacked Alina, you shot a bright beam of silver light through his temples and let go, watching as his head fell back limply on his neck.

Aleksander stepped towards you just as you stepped away from the now dead man, and he grasped your freezing wrists, pulling you to his chest.

“Promise me,” he began, leaning down close to your face, “Promise me that you’ll stand by my side forever. We will be revered, formidable. I will give you a crown, I will give you my love, I will give you whatever you ask for, if you promise me forever.” He pleaded and stared down into your eyes desperately.

There was nothing that you wanted more in that moment and you studied his black eyes for a long time, searching for any sense of trickery within them, but all you found was the same want that you wore within your own eyes.

Perhaps you’d be burned for trusting him this way. In every way. Perhaps you wouldn’t. Only time would tell. All you could do was accept his offer now, and give him your payment in the form of three words.

“I promise. Forever.”

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