#had to make a separate set for just this moment 🤎

[moonpascal]

IN THE SHADOW OF MEMORY

CHAPTER ONE series masterlist

SUMMARY II WC: 3k

When a careless spell erases her memories of Theo, he’s left grappling with the pain of being forgotten. As she returns to seeing him as just another Slytherin, Theo must navigate a world where the love they shared no longer exists—at least, not in her mind. But Theo refuses to give up. He’ll do whatever it takes to remind her of the connection they once had.

WARNINGS: angst, fighting, not 100% canon compliant 

DEDICATION

thank you so much to @amiableness for helping me with chapter! i don’t know what i would do without you and giving me motivation to write this! i love you! 🤎

thank you to @mischievousmoony for helping my brain block i was having and helping me with ideas, you’re amazing and i love you! 🫶🏼

"Is the coast clear?" you whisper to Theo, your heart pounding in your chest. Sneaking into the Room of Requirement had always been nerve-wracking, but with the additional new rules Umbridge had enforced and the rising threat of Voldemort, it felt more dangerous than ever. Even more so because Theo was betraying his own house and friends to be here.

Theo takes another quick glance down the corridor, then nods. He reaches for your hand, his fingers lacing with yours as he pulls you out from your hiding spot.

You both move swiftly and silently toward the wall where the entrance to the Room of Requirement appears. You glance behind you, double-checking to make sure no one is following, before Theo tugs you inside.

Inside, the room is already alive with the sound of practicing defense spells. You and Theo head to the corner that has unofficially become your spot. Some of the others still cast wary glances at Theo, unsure if they can trust a Slytherin among them. Only the Golden Trio seems comfortable with his presence.

As you settle in, the adrenaline from sneaking around begins to subside, but your worry for Theo doesn’t. You can’t help but think about the risks he's taking—defying his father's beliefs, lying to his friends, putting himself in danger—all because he believes in making a change. You know how much he cares for them, and it breaks your heart that he's forced to choose between them and doing what’s right.

You shift closer to Theo, your hand resting lightly on his knee, a silent attempt to anchor him. He’s still tense, his eyes sweeping the room as if on constant alert. Instead of reaching for the textbook like usual, he closes it and sets it aside, surprising you.

“I think we both know enough for now,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “Let’s practice today instead.”

You know the purpose of these meetings is to practice spells, but the thought of doing so in front of your peers makes your stomach twist with anxiety. The fear of messing up or accidentally hurting someone lingers in your mind, making the idea of participating overwhelming.

Theo, ever attuned to your emotions, senses your hesitation. He gently pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and rubbing your arm in a soothing gesture. “We’ll start simple,” he whispers reassuringly, his lips brushing against the side of your head in a tender kiss. “Just a quick Expelliarmus. You’ve got this.”

His warmth and steady presence begin to melt away your nerves, making the idea of practicing a little less daunting. With Theo by your side, you feel like you can handle whatever comes next.

Reluctantly, you pull away from his embrace, already missing the warmth. Moments like these—where you could be close to him without worrying about prying eyes—were rare. Even in the hallways, you could barely walk side by side without Umbridge or Filch barking at you to separate.

You stand, shrugging off your robe to give yourself more freedom of movement, and follow Theo to an open space.

“Alright, you know the movement, and you’ve seen it done. You’ve got this, amore,” Theo encourages, his words ringing with confidence.

Your muscles tense. If you mess up, the spell could do more than just disarm him; it could knock him out. But when Theo flashes that smile—the one that always makes your heart skip—you find yourself believing you can do it.

You take your stance, feeling the weight of the moment as Theo prepares himself, raising his wand as if ready to duel. With a deep breath, you steady yourself and shout, “Expelliarmus!” The spell shoots out from your wand, hitting its mark perfectly. Theo’s wand flies across the room, landing with a clatter as relief floods through you.

Theo’s grin widens as he claps and cheers, “I knew you could do it, tesoro!”

You watch him jog to retrieve his wand, a warmth spreading through your chest. How did you get so lucky to have him? He’s your anchor, the reason you keep pushing forward. He makes you want to be better, to reach higher.

When Theo returns, he places his hands on either side of your face, his eyes shining with pride. “See? You were amazing. Nothing to worry about,” he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring. He leans in, and you meet him halfway, your lips brushing softly against his.

The kiss is slow and tender, each movement gentle as if savoring the moment. You taste the faint remnants of cigarettes and the sweetness of his breakfast. It’s a kiss that speaks of quiet reassurance, of the bond you share, strong and unwavering.

But then you remember where you are, in front of everyone. You pull back, your lips lingering just a moment longer before you peck his lips one last time, a small smile playing on your face.

“I love you, Theo,” you whisper, your foreheads touching, the world around you fading away as you both savor the closeness of the moment.

But as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end.

As you and Theo are lost in your own world, Harry is practicing a spell, the weight of the war and the responsibility of training others pressing heavily on him. The stress shows in his furrowed brow as he skims through spells in his textbook, landing on Obliviate, the charm to erase specific memories. Whatever memories Harry wants to erase is up for debate, but he doesn’t fully grasp the complexity of the spell.

With only a quick glance at the incantation, he swishes and flicks his wand, but nothing happens. Frustration builds as he tries again, more forcefully, but to no avail. Sweat slicks his palm, and with a sharp, aggressive flick, his wand slips from his grip.

Sparks fly out, ricocheting off the floor and walls. Harry tries to shout a warning, but it’s too late. The spell rebounds, hitting the back of your head and sending you flying into Theo.

Theo barely reacts in time, catching you as you collapse into his chest, limp and unresponsive. His arms instinctively wrap around you as he kneels, lowering you gently to the floor.

You look as if you’re merely asleep, but your breaths come slow and shallow. Panic seizes Theo as he brushes your hair out of your face, his voice trembling.

“Amore, come on, wake up. It’s okay, you’re okay,” he whispers, his mind racing for what to do.

A crowd of students gathers around you both, their whispers only fueling Theo’s panic. He snaps, his voice a sharp contrast to the desperation in his heart. “Who did this?!” he demands, his eyes wild as they scan the frightened faces.

“It was me, I’m sorry, I—” Harry begins, but Theo is on him in an instant, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him close, his rage palpable.

“You’re dead, Potter!” Theo snarls, his grip tightening.

Fred and George are quick to intervene, pulling Theo off Harry, while Ron helps steady his shaken friend. “Let’s calm down, yeah?” Fred says, trying to reason with Theo. “We need to get her to Madam Pomfrey. She’ll be okay.”

“She better be,” Theo threatens, his voice low and dangerous. He shrugs off the twins and returns to your side, his heart hammering in his chest as he watches your shallow breaths. When someone offers to help, he waves them off, scooping you up in his arms and pushing past everyone, his focus solely on getting you to safety.

Adrenaline courses through him, fueling his every step as he rushes through the empty corridors—thank Merlin—for six floors until he finally bursts into the hospital wing.

He wastes no time, laying you gently on one of the beds. Madam Pomfrey turns to scold him, but the words die in her throat when she sees your unconscious form.

“What happened?” she asks, her tone sharp with concern.

“She was fine one second, then something hit her head, and she just… collapsed,” Theo says, trying to keep his explanation as vague as possible to avoid suspicion.

“It’s okay, Theodore,” Madam Pomfrey reassures him, her voice softening. “I’m sure it’s nothing serious. Let me examine her. Just breathe, grab a chair, alright?”

Theo nods, though he can hardly think straight. He watches anxiously as Madam Pomfrey performs a series of diagnostic spells, her brow furrowing as each result comes back normal.

“I’m not finding anything out of the ordinary, Nott,” she finally says, puzzled. “She seems perfectly fine, just asleep.”

But Theo isn’t looking at her. He’s holding your hand, his thumb gently stroking your skin as he wills you to wake up.

“We’ll wait until she comes around, okay? I’ll let you stay with her overnight to keep an eye on things,” Madam Pomfrey says, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder before drawing a partition around your bed to give you both some privacy.

As soon as she’s gone, Theo chokes back a sob, his worst fears clawing at him. He knows something is wrong—no one just falls unconscious like that from a spell. He pulls the thin blanket up to cover you and leans down to press a soft kiss against your temple.

“I love you too, amore. You’re gonna be okay, alright?” he whispers, his voice cracking as he desperately hopes for a response, his heart aching in the silence.

———

Theo stirred awake as he felt a sudden movement beneath him. His eyes opened groggily, his head lifting from where it had been resting on your stomach, his arm still wrapped around your waist. The scratchy hospital wing blanket was a far cry from the soft one you were used to, but Theo had barely noticed, too consumed by worry to care about his own discomfort.

As you rubbed your eyes harshly, Theo blinked a few times to clear the sleep from his own, running a hand through his tousled hair. He sat up straighter, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, when he heard your voice—sharp, confused.

“Nott? What are you doing here? And why am I in the hospital wing?”

Theo’s heart dropped. The way you said his name—Nott, not Theo, not love—sent a chill through him. He tensed, trying to keep his voice steady. “Tesoro, you were hit in the head, remember?” He reached out for your hand, desperate to offer some comfort, but you jerked it away before he could touch you.

“This isn’t funny, Nott! What prank are you and your friends pulling now?” Your glare was like a knife to his chest, cutting deep. Theo’s mind raced, trying to process what was happening. This wasn’t right—this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay calm even as panic clawed at him. The way you looked at him, the suspicion and anger in your eyes, made everything clear that something was terribly wrong.

“Please, just listen to me—” he started, but the words felt hollow. His worst fears were playing out right in front of him, and he didn’t know how to make it stop.

Theo jumped to his feet and rushed toward Madam Pomfrey, who was just arriving at the entrance to the hospital wing.

“She’s awake, but she’s acting like she doesn’t know me—please, you have to help,” Theo pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. He wasn’t one to beg, not unless it was to you, but now the words spilled out uncontrollably, fear gripping his heart.

Madam Pomfrey nodded, quickly following him back to your bedside. You were sitting up, fiddling with your hands, a deep scowl etched on your face. Theo’s stomach churned at the sight—he knew that scowl too well, but it had been a long time since it had been directed at him.

“Good morning, dear! How are you feeling?” Madam Pomfrey asked, her voice warm and calm as she began to check your vitals.

You shrugged, casting a wary glance at Theo, who hovered behind the nurse, his heart pounding in his chest. “I feel okay, just confused about how I ended up here.”

“Alright, I’m going to ask you a series of questions, and I want you to answer them to the best of your ability, alright?”

You nodded, and Madam Pomfrey proceeded with the standard questions—what year it was, who the Minister of Magic was, what you did yesterday. You answered each one correctly, with ease, but Theo’s dread only deepened with every word. Everything you said lined up, except for one glaring omission—there was no mention of him. Not in any of it.

Madam Pomfrey paused, her gaze flicking to Theo before she asked the question that made his blood run cold. “Do you know him?” she asked, pointing to Theo.

You rolled your eyes and huffed, your irritation clear. “Yeah, he’s Theodore Nott, Slytherin. Which I’m still confused about—why is he here?”

Theo felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. The way you looked at him, the casual indifference in your voice, transported him back to a time before everything had changed—before you had opened your heart to him. It was as if the last year and a half had been erased, and the weight of that realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep it together, but the familiar coldness in your eyes made it nearly impossible to breathe.

Theo felt his world collapse around him. He couldn’t stay in that room, couldn’t bear to see you look at him like he was a stranger. As Madam Pomfrey explained to you that you’d been hit in the head and Theo had brought you in, he bolted from the hospital wing, stumbling into the hallway. He leaned against a cold stone column, clutching his chest as panic set in. His heart raced uncontrollably, his breaths shallow and ragged. It was another panic attack, but this time, you weren’t there to help him through it. You didn’t even remember him. All those memories—the ones he cherished most—were gone. And it was all because of Potter.

His vision tunneled, everything blurring except for one thought: Harry had done this. He was the reason Theo’s entire world had been ripped away. And Harry was going to pay.

Theo knew exactly where to find him. He’d memorized Harry’s schedule down to the minute, having spent so much time with you before breakfast as you walked with Hermione and Harry. If he timed it right, he’d catch Harry just before he entered the Great Hall.

As Theo rounded the corner, he spotted the trio ahead. They noticed him too, and he saw the tension rise in their shoulders. But Theo was too far gone to care about what they thought. All he saw was Harry—the cause of all this pain.

Without hesitation, Theo marched straight up to them. His usual calm, calculated demeanor was gone, replaced by a storm of raw, unfiltered anger. He shoved Harry hard, sending him stumbling back, barely managing to stay on his feet.

“Nott, let’s talk about this,” Harry started, his voice laced with caution.

“What was the spell, Potter?” Theo demanded, his voice rough with barely contained fury.

“It was an accident!” Harry insisted, his eyes wide with desperation. “It was Obliviate. I swear, I didn’t mean to hit her!”

Theo’s hand shot out, grabbing Harry by his robe, pulling him close enough to feel the heat of his breath. A twisted smile played on Theo’s lips as he tightened his grip. “Oh, but I’m going to mean to hit you.”

He drew back his fist, ready to make Harry pay for everything he’d taken from him. But just as he was about to strike, your voice cut through the chaos, stopping him cold.

“Nott, what the hell are you doing?!” you yelled, rushing toward them, your eyes flashing with anger.

Harry immediately tried to shield you from the truth. “Trouble, it’s fine, really—”

“No, it’s not fine!” you interrupted, glaring at Theo as you pushed him away from Harry. “I’m sick of Slytherins picking on you-us for no reason!”

Theo felt his heart shatter as he watched you fix Harry’s robe, your attention entirely on his supposed enemy. You had no idea what Harry had done, what he had stolen from both of you.

When you finally turned back to Theo, the disgust in your eyes was a knife to his heart. “You’re pathetic, Nott, and you’ll never change,” you spat, the venom in your words leaving him reeling.

The surrounding students watched in stunned silence, the full weight of what had just happened sinking in. They now understood why Theo had been so close to breaking Harry’s face.

As you turned your back on him and walked away with your friends, Theo stood there, frozen. The disappointment in your eyes, the harshness of your words—it was too much. He felt like he might collapse under the weight of it all. But instead, he just stood there, watching you disappear into the Great Hall, his world crumbling around him.

Your words echoed in his mind, each one cutting deeper than the last. His fists clenched at his sides, nails biting into his palms as he fought to keep from breaking apart. He wanted to scream, to lash out, but all he could do was stand there, helpless and shattered.

The hallway, once filled with tension, was now eerily silent, the students having scattered. Theo was left alone in the aftermath, cold and hollow, the life drained out of him in those few, terrible moments. You had been his anchor, his reason to believe in something beyond the darkness that had always surrounded him. And now you were gone, ripped away by a single, careless spell.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, but when he finally moved, it was like a switch had flipped inside him. He couldn’t let this be the end. He couldn’t lose you. There had to be a way to fix this, to bring you back to him. And if he had to tear the world apart to do it, he would.

first divider @saradika-graphics

[collisvng]

CHAPTER 2 | THE MEANING OF PAS DE DEUX

THE END ZONE 🏈🩰✨

Pairing 🤎 Seo Changbin x Fem! Reader︎

Genre 🤎 SMAU, University/College AU, Ballett/Football AU, Fluff, Angst, Crack—all of that good shit lol︎

Synopsis 🤎 By recommendation of his coach, Changbin decides to take a ballet class in order to improve his agility and coordination on the field. It seems like a harmless and fun activity at first. But what happens when his ballet partner starts to make him choose between the two?

Warnings 🤎 Slight swearing, brief mention of food, Felix being annoying (but we love him tho lol)

Taglist 🤎 Open!︎ ✨

Word Count 🤎 2,173 + 10 sm screenshots!

In Collaboration With 🤎 @channie-143

✨️MASTERLIST✨️

©collisvng (2023) — all rights reserved. reposts/modification of our work is not tolerated.

THE UNIVERSITY’S FOOTBALL FIELD WAS THE LAST PLACE YOU EVER EXPECTED TO FIND YOURSELF. 

After being given very specific instructions to go through a specific way that led you specifically to the perfect spot on the bleachers for you to be easily noticed—courtesy of Felix who totally isn’t the university’s mascot—you found yourself setting your bag next to you as you sat down to watch the boys do their thing.

It was strange being there. You never considered yourself a sports person and knew quite little about anything to do with the sort. The most experience you ever had with even just the topic of sports being brought up was the few times Seungmin would go on one of his little tangents about baseball. There were also the few times Felix would slip up about football, but it was never prominent enough for you to take notice of.

Legs crossed, phone in hand, you stayed in your spot hoping for someone to say something about your presence. After a while, a few guys on the field started to look your way. Most looked confused while others almost seemed as if they were trying to show off. You didn’t see Changbin though. Or at least you couldn’t make out which guy was him.

After Felix’s 5th wrap-around of the field (ignoring you while doing so, I might add) and noticing your phone battery was at a lower percentage than you expected, you almost decided to give up.

It wasn’t until you heard a slight nasally yell followed by a giggly chuckle that you finally spotted the man.

He ran across the field to promptly smack one of his teammates for messing around and teasing him about his height. He started yelling. Curly black hair fell into his eyes as he took his helmet off, continuing his scolding. His incessant bickering was abnormally adorable to you.

And the laugh that left his teammates’ mouth was lighthearted and cheerful… and almost strangely familiar. 

It was around this time you started to notice all eyes were on you except Changbin’s. You debated calling for him, but your actions swayed when you noticed one of his other teammates waving at you. He was somewhat taller, his hair was dark and short, and he had what you could only describe as the nose of a Greek god. The guy nodded in your direction as if to ask why you were there, to which you responded with a quick point in Changbin’s direction and exaggeratingly mouthing his name.

A quick, “Oh, okay!” was mouthed to you in response alongside him giving you a thumbs up.

The teammate walked over Changbin amidst his rant and tapped him on the shoulder. He seemed annoyed, probably assuming he was simply about to be told to quit fighting. It wasn’t until his teammate pointed to you standing up from your seat with a shy smile on your face did his expression suddenly change into the biggest grin you had ever seen. 

He jogged over in your direction with his helmet under his arm as you made your way down the bleachers. When you reached the bottom, you gripped the handrail barrier separating you from the field. One of your knees rested against one of the smaller beams of the railing as you leaned forward with anticipation. 

The moment a small ‘hi’ left his lips, the happiness embedded in your nervous system was hard to hide.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” He questioned, raising his brow. “I didn’t really take you as a sports-type.”

“That would be correct,” you nodded. “Which is why I am not here for sports…”

You quickly unlocked your phone and held it out to him, leaning into the railing a bit more for support.

“… I’m here for you.”

Changbin stood there dumbfounded. He just stared down at your screen as if the concept of giving a girl his number was the most foreign thing in the world to him. His grip on his helmet grew tighter as he let out the most tense laugh in the universe. It became obvious to you that this ordeal seemed completely different to you then it was to him.

“Oh my gosh, stop overreacting.” The roll of your eyes came out a little less playful then you had hoped. “It’s not like I’m asking you out or anything, okay? I’m just asking for your number because we agreed I would catch you up on stuff for class.”

He nervously nodded as he took your phone in hand.

“Right, yeah, I knew that…”

As he proceeded to put his number in your phone, you looked off into the distance to see the teammate he was yelling at previously staring at you as if you seemed familiar to him; akin to the way you looked back at him.

“That guy you were talking to looks familiar.”

“Oh, Jeongin?” Changbin handed you the phone back.

“Ah, that name sounds familiar…” You nodded. “I think he’s friends with my friend Seungmin.”

“We all kinda know Seungmin,” he shrugged in response. “Since he’s also in charge of the sports section for the school paper, we see him a lot.”

“Makes sense.”

After a bit of awkward small talk, the two of you concluded that you would reserve a room in the dance hall over the weekend. You’d go over the basics he needed to know before the next class, and if he had any questions that needed extensive explanation you promised you’d answer them.

He walked back to his teammates with a cheeky grin as they all began asking him questions about who you were and why you had given him your phone. It amused you to see the group of men all huddled up together like a bunch of high schoolers spilling rumors to each other.

Hearing them faintly ask who the pretty girl was…

It strangely gave you a boost of confidence.

As you grabbed your things and began to exit, you gave a quick wave to your roommate. He waved back for a brief moment, dropping his facade for what seemed like a mili-second before halting and turning to walk away.

“You can’t ignore me forever!” You yelled after him. “We all know you’re the mascot Felix!”

He held onto the mascot head for dear life as he began picking up his pace. Suddenly, he was sprinting.

“NO YOU DON’T! ”

The first class of the next week seemed to go well.

Changbin had picked up on things quite quickly, which impressed you.

He obviously wasn’t going to become a dance prodigy overnight, but he did good with the basic exercises and was fairly good at keeping you level while on pointe.

There was a lot less dropping with him then there was when Han was your partner. And in all honesty, that was all you could ever ask for. 

You found yourself laughing here and there whenever Changbin would mess up slightly, giving him encouraging words that he would get it right the second time. And thankfully, you’d be right each time. He seemed so determined.

He had even made the effort to get everything you told him he needed for class. When you saw him walk on the first day back from the weekend with a pair of black ballet flats in hand, you let out a sigh of relief. The man sat there on the floor in front of you, carefully putting them on and looking up at you waiting for some sort of praise. It almost made your heart skip a beat.

By the time the second class of the week had come around, there was a mutual acquaintanceship between you both. When he walked into class and met you at the barre, a mutual smile was shared.

“Mornin’ boss,” Changbin winked as he saluted you.

You let out a short groan in response which only made him laugh. His little maniacal giggle filled your ears and you stood in front of him with your head hung.

“You know you don’t have to be so formal with me,” you slowly rubbed your eyes with your middle and index fingers. “I’m your dance partner, not your boss. I’m here to help you, not boss you around.”

“Eh, it’s fine.” He shrugged. “I kinda like it when you boss me around.”

The words came out with a sense of normality behind them. There were no flirtatious undertones, no coquettish teasing—just a statement with an accidental provocative undercurrent. 

The affirmation was enough to make you silently turn away. And when your gaze shifted, you could see Minho (who had been standing by) smirking at you.

“Not a word,” you mumbled low enough for only him to hear.

Minho’s smile faltered for a second before staring straight ahead once more.

When the instructor walked in, the vibe seemed very different than usual.

She was dressed more casually, which was strange, and her intimidating sense of self seemed non-existent for once—but not quite completely gone. You had never seen this side of her before and it left the whole class in astonishment.  The woman stood in front of you all, hands behind her back, with her eyes scanning the room.

The room was dead silent until she eventually spoke.

“What is the meaning of pas de deux?”

Her question sent the class into a silenced frenzy. Everyone’s eyes darted at each other in the room waiting for someone to answer.

Eventually, Han’s new dance partner raised her hand and spoke.

“It means a dance for two people. Or step of two.”

“That’s its literal definition, Regina. I’m asking for the meaning.”

The instructor went on to explain how pas de deux is about two bodies coming together to create one soul; two partners coming together to produce one palpable emotion. That emotion differed from performance piece to another, and to construct those emotions through nothing but movement took a sense of dexterity to convey.

There were 3 rules of pas de deux:

You needed to trust your partner.

Unity between your partner and yourself was detrimental.

And most important of all, communication was key.

“Without those things, what we do here is simply just dancing,” your instructor shrugged. “What creates the magic of pas de deux is the harmony of two bodies. And in order to have that harmony, you must get to know your partner. Which is what we are going to do today.”

She proceeded to say that class was actually canceled today, and instead she wanted you to use your class time to get to know your partners more. It made sense, given the recent switch of partners that took place in class a few days ago. You and Changbin had already started practicing together a bit outside of class and the two of you barely knew each other. Perhaps this was a sign.

“I expect you to know your partner by the next class. You don’t have to know every dying detail of their life, but you should know enough to give a brief description of them and some of their interests in front of your fellow classmates. You will be graded on this.”

Once you all were dismissed and everyone seemed to be making their way out of the class, Changbin looked at you with a sort of desperation in his eyes.

“Heyyyy… sooo…”

“What do you want?”

“‘Kay so,” he began, “I actually had some homework that’s due later. I was gonna try to do it during practice but since class is canceled…”

“You want to know if I’m okay with you doing it now?”

He nodded vigorously with the most pouty face you had ever seen. “Please? We can meet up on the weekend again or something to make up for it. I’ll even be the one to reserve the room this time if you want. Just…please…?”

Laughing a bit, you realized how different Changbin made you feel. Normally if it were anyone else, you would have made an effort to force them to stay. You were just getting to know each other, but it was still an assignment after all. You took stuff like that when it came to dance very seriously. But something about him made you feel like you could trust him.

And so you did.

“Yeah that's fine,” you smiled. “I have some stuff to catch up on as well so that works out.”

Changbin stood there, eyebrows raised as if to ask ‘are you sure?’

You nodded, telling him to go.

He smiled, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hands then pretending to throw it at you as he bolted for his gym bag.

“I love you, oh my gosh. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

The boys watched the whole ordeal as they began to gather around you, surprised you let him off so easily.

“We’ve lost her guys,” Hyunjin sighed. “She’s becoming soft.”

A swift kick to his shin shut him right up.

“There we go,” Han smirked. “She's back.”

taglist: @marcillfll @jiisungllvr  @chrizzlaptop @babrieeee @soupbinlily @pissmori @chlodavids @marnz1990 @worcesheshestershiresauce @hafrenstay @s00buwu @ismelllikechlorine247 @teenyfinds

[noirapocalypto]

for the love day game! 🤎 and ❤️ for casey and baz <3

Thank you so so much!! 💕 [ Love Day Emoji Ask ]

I've actually already answered these two in previous posts 😅 But I'll still copy/paste them here 💕 with some further expanding!

»»———-　ᴠᴇʀᴅᴇ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ　———-««

❤️ Who is the more romantic one? Do they wish their partner was more romantic?

Both are pretty romantic, in their own weird/unorthodox way. They balance each other out very well because of their bond. Where Casey lacks, Baz makes up for and vice versa. Baz is spontaneous and has a sense of adventure, whereas Casey is a bit more mellow and tends to lean towards more quiet nights in. I don't think the either mind though. Casey gets to experience things he might have never gotten to experience without Baz, whereas Bastien gets to experience stability and gentle intimacy that he's not really used to. They're both happy with how the other expresses romance.

Bonus addition:

Their different approaches to romance actually did clash with the other when their relationship was still platonic and they were seeing other people. 🤭Back when they were young adults, they sometimes double dated with Bastien trying to pull the date one way and Casey trying to pull the other way. Sometimes Baz would suggest the group go to concert or some sort of rowdy show while Casey had just planned for a quiet movie date or even something a bit more calm like peaceful hike/walk through a park. More often than not, the two couples would just go their separate ways if they really wanted their date to work out. Other times, the two boys would end up going home alone thanks to their chaotic double date. 😂It wasn't until it was with each other, than they began to appreciate how the other goes about trying to impress and woo.

🤎 How do they comfort each other?

Bastien absolutely needs vocal reassurance and physical affection. Whenever he's having a moment, whether it's out of anger or sadness or panic, the moment Casey hugs him and reassurances Baz that he's okay and that he's 'got him', the other starts to calm down. And since Casey's a naturally affectionate person, this comes easy to him and he won't hesitate to become Baz's literal safety blanket. Bastien needs to feel loved and treasured.

When it's Casey's turn, he wants his feelings to be validated and acknowledged. Baz doesn't have to understand, he just needs to listen. He also responds well to physical affection, which Bastien is more than happy to provide. Casey's a bit more emotionally sensitive, so out of the two, he's likely the one to cry a bit easily when overwhelmed. He wants Baz's shoulder to cry on. Casey's comfort is feeling protected and taken care of.

Bonus addition:

When it comes to situations that aren't too dire or big of a deal, they both turn to more casual but thoughtful ways to try and cheer the other up when they have a bit of a storm cloud over their head. Whenever Casey's bummed out about something, Bastien cooks for him. Baz is the cook of the family, or at least, the one that's very, very good at it (he claims its thanks to his cajun side). Baking is also in his skill-set and he knows exactly what treats Casey likes. So whenever Casey's moping around, Baz surprises him with his favorite: a big plate of New Orleans style beignets.

When it's Bastien's turn to be a gloomy boy, Casey turns to humor. Bastien closes up, and walks around the place with a long face and a stiff demeanor. And that's when Casey tries to make him laugh because if there's anything Bastien likes, it's laughing his ass off. It never works the first time, with Baz determined to remain stoic. He'll even brush it off with a "I know what you're trying to do, it ain't gonna work". But pun after pun, joke after joke, his wall begins to break down and he begins trying to hide his smiles/keep from chuckling. Eventually though, Casey has him rolling and he's forgotten what was bothering him at the start.

[sexysapphicshopowner]

🤎 Context/AU (Alternate Universe): Asanté started off as Jalani’s prized pupil in 2006. Now, 2 decades later, they’re happily married and enjoying their honeymoon. Of course, Lani has a surprise to make the moment sweeter.

🤎 Jalani Ball-De Léon: 45, FGSS and Psychology Professor

🤎 Asanté Ball- De Léon: 39, Women's Studies Professor

🤎 CW/TW: mentions of female genital mutilation (briefly), mentions of pregnancy, mentions of forced hysterectomy, angst, fluff, smut, hurt comfort, porn with plot/porn with feelings (there's no actual smut in this one but I'm using the same warnings for both), pet names, lesbians, romance stuff, kissing, cunnilingus, swearing, vaginal fingering, body worship, some spanish, mentions of mental health issues, mentions of hallucinations, no google translate, the kissing of feet (she does not have a foot fetish don't play with me), crying, proofread (will be updating these warnings when I finish part 2)

🤎 A/N: I actually have a fic for this pairing up on ao3, that link can be found here. I've had this fic sitting in my drafts for the longest. Originally it was a two part with Asanté's pov being one chapter and Jalani's being the other because I wanted the more fluffy part to be seen from Asanté's eyes and the angstier, smuttier (it's very soft and meaningful smut tbh) part to be seen from Jalani's so yeah. I think with how long this first part has turned through editing, I'm going to keep them separated. Also tell your mom how you got Rick rolled by an angst fic on tumblr when you finish reading.

🤎 Notes:

Asanté comes from an abusive adoptive family, her mother having illegally gotten a hysterectomy done on her and the mutilation of her genitals (they cut off her clit) just to name a couple of the things that she suffered through just as a child, let alone as she got older

Asanté and Lani met when Asanté was 19 pushing 20 and Jalani was 25 pushing 26, they became friends while Asante was still her student, eventually starting a relationship 6 years after graduation when Asanté came back to her alma mater to teach there

Jalani is originally from Spain with Afro-Spanish parents

Asanté is from New Mexico, she does not know her heritage but grew up speaking Castilian Spanish because coincidentally enough her adoptive mother is a Spanish woman as well

They're honeymooning in Italy

Jalani is pronounced like yuh-lawn-ee

Asanté is pronounced like uh-sahn-tay

Jalani's full name is actually Jalani Alexya Martina Mireia Adelita Teofila Sanchia Basilia Romano Hendrix De Léon

🤎 Word count: 4.3k

🤎 Link to pt. 2

8th August 2026

"If I know what love is, it is because of you. You've awakened something in my soul that was asleep for a long time."

Asanté

She was my forever love. We didn't have to know each other since we were kids, we didn't have to spend the entire 2 decades that we knew each other together, but I never stopped loving her. From the moment we laid eyes, it was set in stone, Jalani Hendrix would be the love of my life.

I started to scroll down on my youtube to find a new video to watch when she called out, "Santé, look at me."

I turned to find her recording me and couldn't help but chuckle at the faces she was making behind the camera. I sat my mug down and slipped my feet back into my slides, getting up to walk towards her.

She put her phone in her pocket and I took her outstretched hand, shaking my head with another soft laugh as she pulled me in, "Good morning, Lani."

She kissed my forehead, "Good morning. You working on something?"

I shook my head as we rocked side to side idly, her arms situated around my waist, mine slung over her shoulders "Nope, just watching youtube videos."

"Cuddles and coffee?"

I hummed as she pressed her lips to mine in soft, repeated kisses, "Only if you're making the coffee."

"Kiss and you've got a deal," she offered. I giggled, mumbling against her lips, "Lani, you're kissing me right now."

"Mm, keywords. I'm kissing you. Kiss me back and I'll make the coffee," she corrected, continuing to kiss me throughout her speaking.

I rolled my eyes playfully as I brought a hand down to cup her cheek, pressing my lips into hers the next time she planted a little peck to mine, kissing her back tenderly. A little happy sigh escaped me as I pulled away, looking up at her through my lashes, "Now do we have a deal?"

She smiled down at me, her thumbs gently tracing along the curve of my waist as she pressed one last kiss to my lips, "Yes, I would believe we do, my love."

Her hands moved up to my arms, pulling them down slowly until she had taken a hold of my hands, kissing across the back of my knuckles before turning around, her arms extended behind her as she linked her fingers with mine.

I gave them a squeeze, calling out as she pulled me along into the kitchen, "Is this not uncomfortable?"

She shook her head, "Nope. It actually feels good on my rotator cuff at the moment."

I laughed, shaking my head, "If you say so."

She let go of my right hand as she made it to the counter, pulling my left arm around her waist, leading to me wrapping both of my arms around her from behind, hands planted against her chest as I rested my head against her back, "How long do you think we can hide out here before our families send a SWAT team to come get us?"

I shrugged as I turned my face to place a kiss between her shoulder blades, her tank top leaving just enough skin uncovered for me to do so, "I don't know. I read somewhere that most honeymoons last about 8 days, but we've been gone for almost a month now. What have you been telling Mamá?"

"That we're on a couple's vacation from work. You know she's gonna kill us for eloping, right," she asked as she held onto my hands, pulling me back outside with her as she grabbed my mug from next to my laptop.

I nodded, shuffling along with her easily as she sniffed my mug to find that I had been drinking tea and not coffee, "Oh for sure. She's been the main person pressuring us to go ahead and have the wedding. She's gonna shit a brick."

"Perhaps we should have a big ceremony for our first anniversary? Just to pacify the family. For us it'll be a vow renewal, to them it'll be our wedding," she suggested as she placed a kettle on the stove while her coffee brewed.

I moved to slip between her and the counter, hands now in the same position but on her back as I rested against her chest, her arms wrapping around me whilst she pressed soft kisses into my hair, simply humming in response, "Mmhh...mhm...sounds good to me..."

She let out a soft laugh, the vibration humming against the side of my face that was pressed against her chest as she brought a hand up to my nape, playing with the hair there, "You okay, baby?"

I wasn't listening but when my brain registered that she was talking to me, I cracked an eye open, looking up at her, "Hm?"

"Still sleepy," she asked, not even minding that I hadn't heard her original question.

"Maybe a little bit. Mostly just comfortable, you're super warm."

"Well, so long as you're alright, that's okay."

I looked up at her, my chin resting against her chest as I poked my bottom lip out, "Kiss?"

She pressed a soft kiss to my lips, smiling, "Mwah, I love you."

I pushed up onto the balls of my feet just slightly, pressing a kiss of my own to her lips, "Mmmmmwah, I love you too."

She made more kissy noises as she kissed my face and neck playfully, "Mmmwa-mmwa-mmwa-mmmwah-mwah! You tryna have kitchen sex?"

I wrinkled my nose, "Ew, no! But we can turn cuddles and coffee into cuddles and cuffing. It is cuffing season, you know."

"Well duh, I know that. I just fully cuffed you a month ago."

I rolled my eyes, "Mhm I'll be upstairs. You're not fucking me." I added, pecking her lips.

She shrugged, lowering her voice as she kissed my lips softly, "I mean, making love is on the table, you said it yourself."

"We'll see. Lots of creamer, yeah?"

"I heard creaming, that implies we're eventually fucking, yes?"

I shook my head as we let go, "Mhm, yeah, stay gay, baby."

"Always!"

I slid open the doors of our bedroom, smiling as I took in the feeling of it. I let myself fall into the bed with a content sigh.

I have married the love of my life...and I'm completely happy with it.

I twirled my hair between my fingers as I swung my feet off the edge, of the bed idly, thinking to myself.

If you had told me when I first met Lani as my professor that two decades later I'd be married to her, I probably wouldn't have believed you for a multitude of reasons.

It was practically no secret back then that I had a crush on her by junior year, my cordial relationship with her as my professor becoming not quite friends, not quite partners. It was...something alright.

Back then I always tried to tell myself that given the 6 year age gap, she likely just saw me as a friend at best, a little sister at worst. But then there was that particular conversation once I got my diploma.

Then the time after I left California to get my teaching degree and start my work down in Texas. Dating was...attempted, but knowing what I knew by that point, I had no choice but to jump on the opportunity when I got offered a job to work at Stanford.

My thoughts were interrupted by her grabbing my ankles, gently tugging me to the end of the bed as she pulled my legs in the air, my toes pointing habitually as she started massaging my right foot, "Whatcha' thinkin' about in here?"

"Nothing much....well, that's a lie. I was thinking about us."

"What about us," she questioned, pressing a kiss to the inside of my ankle as her thumbs ran up the center of my foot, pushing up toward the ball.

"Just how unbelievable it is that we're together. 20-year-old me wouldn't believe that 40-year-old me is here right now."

She gave a soft chuckle as she moved up to massage my toes, the circulation quickly improving, "Well how do you feel now that you are here?"

I let my eyes slip closed as I stretched with a small yawn, "Hmm, content...how about you? Happy I came back to Cali when I did?"

She pressed a kiss to the arch of my foot, "Oh, most definitely. While I was glad we kept in contact, I was much happier when we were in the same state again."

I only gave a little hum in response, earning me another kiss to my foot as she kept massaging it slowly, applying the perfect amount of pressure, "Are you going to sleep on me, cow?"

"No...." I mumbled, yawning again before cracking a small smile, looking at her through half-lidded eyes, "...maybe...."

She chuckled, "More than maybe, baby, I can see it in your eyes. Come on, tea's on the nightstand."

I yawned again, rubbing my eye as I stretched with my other arm, "Mm, you gonna stop massaging my foot so I can sit up and get it?"

"Momentarily," she answered as she let go of it, not before planting a kiss to the ball of it as she pressed her thumbs into the heel of my foot.

I moved to the head of the bed after she set my legs down slowly, situating myself against the pillows before turning to take my mug as she offered it, “Decided against your coffee,” I asked, noting that she went back to massaging my feet, having moved to my left one now, instead of taking up her own mug. 

“Do you want a massage, or do you want me to drink coffee with you, baby?” 

I thought for a few moments, sipping from my mug. I melted as the warm liquid hit my throat, my eyes slipping closed once more before I answered, “Both.” 

She giggled at my reaction to the tea as she picked my foot up to place a kiss to it, “I will drink my coffee once I finish rubbing down your feet. Then I’m giving you a massage.” 

“And what kind of massage would that be, my love?” 

She ran her hands rather loosely from my foot over my shin as she answered, “I’m talking about a terrace massage table, early morning breeze, full-body massage. Jalani style, of course.” 

I couldn’t help but match the small smirk she had on her lips as I took another sip of tea, “Well, when you put it that way....sign me up, baby.” 

She let out a little happy sigh as she massaged the ball of my foot, “I love calling you my wife.” 

“I’m blessed that you loved me enough to want to do so,” I mumbled softly, knowing she was talking more to herself than me. 

“It had nothing to do with how much I loved you. You’re literally the love of my life and everybody knows that, but it was nice being able to put a pretty ring on your finger. Just to be extra sure, you know?” 

I rolled my eyes playfully, “You’re not even possessive like that, Lani. You can just say you wanted to have a nice wedding, professor. Besides, you took me off the market years ago, baby.” 

She finally set my foot down, moving to grab her coffee as she sat next to me, “Oh hush it. You know what I’m trying to say.” 

I leaned onto her shoulder, holding my mug with both of my hands, “Mm, maybe I do...maybe I don’t...You’ll never know...” 

“I think I do, but whatever you say, my love. Hurry and finish your tea, I’m gonna go set up on the terrace.” 

I reached for her arm before she could pull away, “Kiss first?” 

She softened with a smile as she set her mug back down, reaching to take mine, “Of course, baby.” 

I was once again pulled by my ankles to lie on my back as she kissed down my ankle, trailing up the inside of my leg slowly. She took her time to kiss all the skin she could get to, eyes trailing up to meet mine as she got to the inner of my thigh, right at the edge of my silk pajama shorts. 

Her lips planted against the crotch of them before moving up to my stomach. She lingered there for a while, tracing my hysterectomy scar with soft kisses before she spoke, “You know, I’ve gotta tell you something, Santé." 

“What’s that,” I asked, a little breathless from the intensity of her stare combined with the intimacy of her kisses. 

“We’ve got one baking.” 

A puzzled look crossed my features as I tilted my head, “One what, Lani?” 

“A bun,” she answered almost nonchalantly as she planted a deliberate kiss to my scar again. 

My brow furrowed before I let out a soft gasp, sitting up, “Say swear. Don't play with me like that, Jalani.” 

She gestured behind me with a small smile, “Check under your pillow, my love.” 

I eyed her for a few moments, taking in the sincerity in her eyes along with the warmth in her small smile as she gestured softly to the pillow again. I turned around, lifting it to find a small cream-colored envelope tied with a small, emerald green ribbon. I looked between her and the envelope for a few seconds causing her to giggle behind her hand. 

“Santé, it's not a bomb, relax. Breathe, okay? Just open it." 

With shaking hands, I untied the ribbon, peeling it open carefully. I pulled out a small thank you card, the inside decorated with Jalani’s small, neat, looping handwriting: 

20 years ago, you walked into my classroom, an entire 2 hours before your 6 am class started. That was my introduction to the never-ending enigma that is Asanté Janara Anahi Ball. For 20 years, I have watched you grow and evolve into the woman I now know as my wife. I’m sure you noticed that this is a thank you card, and that’s because this is my thanks to you. 

Thank you for opening up to me. For putting up with me. For sticking by me even when we didn’t know what we were, let alone what we were doing with each other. 

Thank you for allowing me to teach you how to love whilst you simultaneously taught me what real love even felt like. 

Thank you for the smiles. For the laughs. For the cuddles. For the kisses. For the spontaneous dance parties. For every pie we burnt together because we were too busy dancing and singing around. For every pile of leaves raked that we then jumped into together. 

Thank you for all the quiet moments as well. The looks across the dinner table. Across the room. The slow dances in the living room. The late-night crying sessions. Thank you for it all. 

For 9 years now, you’ve been the love I never knew I needed. I’m over the moon to tell you that we’ll finally be adding a new love to our life. 

For the last 6 years of us being secretly engaged, our fertility journey hasn’t been any easier. Well... 

8 weeks down, about 32 weeks to go. 

32 weeks before we bring a creation of our own into this world. 

I can’t wait to explore, experience, and learn motherhood with you, and thank you for giving me the option and chance to do so. 

Here’s to our first peek at our baby, and to the chance to see it in person some day soon. 

I was already holding back tears as I shakily picked the envelope back up, finding a sonogram. There it was, in black and white, sitting in the middle of the picture was the tiniest outline of a little head and a body. 

I looked up at her, eyes still glossy as a few stray tears trekked down my cheeks, mumbling more to myself, “This...this is really happening....Y-you’re.....pregnant....” 

I mentally smacked myself for sounding so dumb at my big age. 

Of course she is, idiot, you’re looking at the baby right there! 

She didn’t hold the question against me as she nodded with a soft smile, “Sure am. This last round took. I’ve known since I was about 3 weeks. I got the ultrasound done a couple days ago when I went to get us some small groceries.” 

My brain didn’t register her words fully as I just looked at her, wide-eyed, “You’re pregnant...” I repeated, voice full of stupor.

She let out a soft chuckle, nodding again, “You’re absolutely correct. We’re having a baby. How do you feel?”

I shook myself out of my reverie, glancing back down to the sonogram in my hand, stroking my thumb over it, “I....it’s an almost indescribable amalgamation of feelings. More than anxiety, a little less than fear....joy...disbelief....I’m feeling....a lot....” 

She took my face gently in her hands, pressing quick, soft kisses down the bridge of my nose, “Hey, hey...that’s okay. I can only imagine. You have no idea how hard it was to keep it from you.” 

I let out a small giggle, tears still falling down my cheeks even as she tried to stroke them away with her thumbs, “Well, now you not drinking at our wedding makes a whole lot more sense. I mean...I know we had almost just gotten the insemination done practically, but...still...” 

She smiled, even as she kissed the tears from my eyes, still gently caressing my cheeks, “Yep. I already knew by then.” 

I relaxed into her touch, smiling back at her, “I can’t believe it’s really been a whole two decades. I mean...I know we’re always talking about it these days because that is a relatively long time but...still.” 

“How long does it feel like we’ve known each other?” 

I gave a small shrug as I pulled her hands from my face, linking my fingers with hers, “It somehow feels like it’s been both longer, yet like it hasn’t been long enough at the same time if that makes sense....” 

“It does, but could you elaborate as to why you feel that way? I know why I do, but it’d be nice to hear it from your point of view.” 

I gave a soft shrug, “Like...when we’re together, it’s hard to remember what life was like without you, but at the same time, I do remember because before I met you it was....horrible...and that’s just to put it lightly. 

Or the 6 years I spent in Texas before I came back to Cali to work with you. That entire time, even though we were still in contact with each other, even if sparingly at time, I couldn’t help but long to have known you for a much longer time. 

It’s like I was anticipating meeting you almost. Maybe not you in specific, but when I was little, you know I found my solace in fairytales and romance, I was waiting for that person to come through and appreciate me for who I truly was. To see me behind the façade. 

And now that I have met you? And we’re together? I can’t get enough of it. You’ve managed to make 20 years feel more like two, loving me in every kind of way, and I can’t be more thankful for it. 

You waxed poetic thanking me for all the little intricacies of our relationship, but I’m thankful to you for all of that and so much more. Your patience, kindness, and love knows no bounds and it amazes me to no end. 

I was just a few months shy of 20 when we met, now here I am, about to be 40 and we’re on a honeymoon with you telling me you’re officially pregnant with our first child. 

20 years is a long time. And yet....I still want more. I want to live as much of my life as possible with you in it, Lani. Like....ugh, I feel like I’m just rambling and repeating myself now.” 

She smiled warmly, pulling me into her arms as she set the sonogram, note and envelope aside, kissing my temple as she rubbed my back gently, “It’s okay, baby. I understand you fully and I hear you loud and clear, I promise. I actually had to sit there for a good while when I wrote your note because, like you said, it’s hard to remember a time before me and you. 

It was so hard for me to remember what life was like without you because there’s nothing like being around you. Your energy and your presence are off the charts, and while some people can’t handle it, I love it. 

Just seeing you in the morning during the four years that I taught you, getting to see that million-dollar smile and hear that laugh...all of it was just...it made my day every time. I can’t help but love everything about you because you reciprocate. Any energy I put into us you match it 10 times over. 

I’ve never had that with anybody before you. I know that I haven’t been perfect and shit for us hasn’t always been easy, but I meant what I said. I’m so grateful to you for how patient you are with me as I navigated becoming a better person and partner for you. Most people get tired of my shit, but not only did you not get tired of it, you called me on my bullshit and helped me see why those parts of me were toxic and uncalled for. 

You’ve stayed with me this long and....I’m really hoping you’ll stay longer.” 

I looked up at her, our eyes burning into one another. As we stared into the depths of the other’s soul, our bodies shifted, sitting to face one another as we both brought our hands up to hold the other’s face. We both had tears streaming down our cheeks and while she was busy wiping my tears, I was focused on tracing her features with my fingers gently, memorizing and mapping the lines of her skin. 

As her onyx-colored eyes pulled me in like the universe’s largest whirlpool, I sw the things that always brought me back to her. Love, acceptance, compassion....but above all these things: home. They always say that home is where the heart is and my home....my heart was with her. 

I used to nerver understand that when Lani would tell me that home is never going to be a physical place all those yeas ago. But, now I do. It’s where all your love and life reside. I can healthily say that my life and love are Lani. 

She once told me that she wasn’t sure she had any knowledge left to teach me....and I asked her to teach me how to love. And teach me she did. With her came all 7 of the Greek words for love. 

Her soul brought passion, lust, desire, obsession, unconditional love, self-love, intimacy, friendship, infatuation, commitment, family, and empathy. I was blessed with an angel whose voice and body feel like heave. And her name is Jalani Hendrix De Lèon. 

She continued wiping my cheeks with her thumbs as she finally spoke, prompting me to still my hands at her face, moving them to curl up into her curls at the nape, “I love you, Asanté." 

“I love you, Jalani,” I responded breathlessly, eyes locked onto her unblinkingly. 

Her voice was soft, low enough to be carried aay with the morning breeze that blew through the bedroom from the terrace and open windows, “I promise that as long as I have life to live and function in my body, I will never love another soul as much as I love you. No sight, touch, scent, sound, or taste will ever compare to or exceed the experience that is you for me. In this life and the next, I wish to be yours.” 

Tears continued to spill out both of our eyes as we drew closer, her hands tilting my head up to hers just the slightest bit. I had so much I wanted to say in response but what felt like not enough time to say it all. 

As her breath fanned out against my face, her apple cinnamon scent invading my nostrils and engulfing me to the point where the only thing I saw was her eyes and the only thing I could feel was her hands cradling my face oh so gently. 

My brain finally was able to compute a response, our lips brushing together as I spoke each word from how close together our faces had drawn, “Call it selfish, but God....I’m never gonna give you up...I want this to be it for me. Me and you. I want this to be our endgame. We’ve tried that shit with other people and nobody else works for me. Not like you do. 

No one on this Earth can elicit the same feeling that comes from being with you. I promise you....I will always be yours...” 

I could feel her smile against my lips, her words pressed between us like dried flowers in a book, “Tu amor vale más que un millón de estrellas para mí.” 

I had no choice but to smile back, a breathless laugh escaping me, “Estoy feliz de compartir cada instante de mi vida a tu lado.” 

Somewhere, deep in the universe, a star was born as our lips connected. The combination of our tears, the emotions left from the conversation we’d just shared.....the accumulation of our feelings and thoughts for one another was explosive. 

Somewhere deep within the realm of my being, not only did our souls touch, but the purest parts of my being became one with hers. And right here in our little secluded corner of Italy..... 

My life became complete.

🤎©️ All work belongs to sexysapphicshopowner. Do not use or repost my content in any way without my consent or permission. Thank you! 🤎

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