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sweetinsaniiity · 23 days ago

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Sick, Little Games (PART II) Bonus Chapter Kinktober 2024 Special

► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - psycho!mafia!mingi x fem!reader!Y/N ◄

► 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎/𝙰𝚄 - mafia au, plot with heavy smut (warnings below), established relationship, !dom Mingi, he's !sweet to you, a !dick to others, !toxic Mingi, but so is the reader, fourth wall break if you squint, my beta said it was funny (?), extreme jealousy, possessiveness, gaslighting, union, expecting, betrayal, reading is !passive aggressive, bullying (not by ML), college setting for Y/N, Mingi is a !smoker ◄

► 𝚁𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - PG-18+ so MDNI!!!, Mingi has a !filthy and !offensive mouth, BDSM, hate sex, restraint (via chains), corruption kink, Mingi is a !sadist, so reader has !masochistic tendencies, spanking, hair pulling, hard biting, cock riding, doggy position, overstimulation, pain and pleasure, blood play (from biting lips), pussy eating, free use (rough consensual), anal fingering, anal fucking (via vibrator only), ass play, double penetration (with vibrator), cum shot, cum swallowing, cum swapping, no protection (DO NOT DO THIS!!!!), violence as !mafia members towards others, cursing, offensive language ◄

► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 25K+ words ◄

► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - You try to maneuver your life while being the prized obsession possession of the esteemed mafia lord, Song Mingi. After that fateful night in the subway a year ago, it hasn't been easy. His possessive and overbearing nature, and not to mention his jealousy, has been rough on your relationship. His overprotectiveness towards you has left you feeling like you're not your own person anymore. There were times were you think you can't take it, but Mingi doesn't mind, he'll just tie you up again like he did before. And this time, he'll do it even tighter. ◄

► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - This is the bonus (and last) chapter for Sick, Little Games due to popular demand! I wasn't going to do it, but a lot of you have requested it, so here it is! Not a standalone fic, I would HIGHLY recommend reading the first part here so you get a gist of what Mingi's personality was and how it connects to this one as well as Y/N's perspective before the relationship. ◄

► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - @ginger-mingi @0rangemilk @ruubyrubes @oddracha @jaytheatiny @juicy-red @cheolliehugs (let me know if you want to be added in the permanent list!) @roxannecos ◄

► 𝙽𝚎𝚝s - @cultofdionysusnet @wonderlandnet @othersideoutlawsnetwork @whipped-kpop-creators @illusionnet @pirateeznet ◄

“Come on, babydoll, you can do it,” he smirked as beads of sweat started to roll from his forehead down to his chin. His voice was hoarse from pleasure and his grip on my hips were getting tighter. “Give it to me.”

I bit my lip and sucked on it in anticipation. Mingi raised his eyebrows at my refusal to move even though he could see how red my face was from all the work.

"Don't play with me, Y/N. It's not a good idea," his fingers dug on my skin even harder and I was pretty sure it would leave marks the next day. "Move."

"How am I supposed to ride you properly if you're pushing my hips down?" I hissed.

His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits before he lifted me by the waist and then roughly slammed me down and effectively impaling me on his cock. I screamed out loud when I felt him hit that sweet spot he knew that made me hot and bothered.

"Mingi, please," I whimpered, my shaking hands finding their place on his toned chest where the 'A' tattoo laid. I felt him tense underneath from my touch, it made his cock twitch inside me and I couldn't help but bite my cheek in the pleasurable sensation.

"Hey, this isn't my fault," he cheekily said, his hands trailing from my stomach, and then higher until he groaned when he palmed my tits. "This is the consequence of your actions around me."

"You know I hate when you do this," I pouted. I gripped his shoulders before I completely wrapped my arms around his neck. "You can't just manipulate me into fucking you, if you want me, just ask."

He shifts from sitting down to completely laying down, his cock effectively going deeper inside me as I straddled him. "Now where's the fun in that?"

I gasped when he suddenly grabbed my shoulder and pulled me down. "Now fuck me, and you better fuck me good or you're not getting up from this bed."

"What---oh!" I sputtered out when his hips bucked up so he could fuck me even though I was on top.

I whimpered when he grabbed a handful of my hair and roughly turned my head towards his to capture my lips in a rougher kiss while his other hand firmly held my ass and pushed it down to deepen his cock inside me.

"M-Mingi, yes, you feel so good i-inside me," I moaned out after he had driven deeper in my core, my head swimming in pleasure until all I could think of was how cock dumb Mingi always made me.

I heard him moan against my ear. "Yeah? Only for you, my love," he planted a quick kiss on the side of my head as his thrusts got sloppier. "Only for you."

All I gave him were my loud moans as I bounced up and down to meet his thrusts. Soft, vanilla sex has never been a thing between me and Mingi, but I swear I fall in love with him every single time I try and see him restrain himself so he wouldn't hurt me.

I grabbed his face so he could look at me and I almost came at how dark and seductive his eyes were. "Come inside me," I was breathless, but it was like I stole his breath with how his cock seemed to harden even more inside me, if that was possible.

"Fuck, babygirl, you always take my cock so well," he gritted his teeth. He groaned lowly when I clenched around his length. "Oh, fuck, I'm gonna fucking come---"

The warm gush of his semen triggers my own orgasm, albeit weaker since this was probably my third ever since we started, but it was still mind-blowing, nonetheless.

I collapsed on top of him while we both rode out our highs, with him still inside me. After a couple of minutes, I felt him shuffle a bit and I saw him grab the familiar packet of cigarettes he always kept after we have sex.

"Want one?" he offered me. I shook my head and he hummed in acceptance. "Want this to be the last time I ever ask you?"

"Yes," I whispered out, eyes still closed. He always offers me out of respect and out of pressure to try it. I have never been interested in smoking, but I didn't mind anyone who did. It wasn't my business.

Mingi's love is what I would describe as soothing. It's been a year since we got together, and it wasn't smooth sailing, but I never loved him any less.

Like right now, I could fall asleep with how he slowly rubbed my back soothingly. It was difficult to believe that this was the Don that everyone literally feared and respected.

"So, university next week?" Mingi gruffly asked as he puffed out smoke from his lips. I hummed out a small 'mhhm' in response. "Hmm," he hummed back. "Who's dropping you off?"

"I'm not too sure," I tried to avoid eye contact. "Everyone has been busy training, I didn't want to impose."

I moaned softly when Mingi pulled out from me and laid me on the bed beside him after covering me gently with the blanket. "Nonsense," he raised a brow, his face turning serious. "And don't lie to me."

I blinked at him repeatedly, my heart beating fast in nervousness, but in the end, I gave in. "Please, I'm not incapable," I frowned. "I can take myself to school, I can drive or take the bus---"

"Stop talking," he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with his fingers. "I don't want to hear it."

Hot, red, searing rage seeps into my bones and I sit up in anger, not bothering to cover my exposed chest. "Mingi, you can't just shut me out whenever I want to say something."

He takes the cigarette in between his index and middle finger and taps it, the ashes slowly falling on a tray as his eyes slowly rakes over my exposed skin before he smirks. "Seonghwa will escort you to college," he stares at me, eyes firm and absolute. "And that's final."

I had this blinding urge to scream at him and unleash all my frustrations, but before I could, he sits up and covers me up before he wraps his arms all over me. It would have been sweet had I not been mad.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll listen to me," he sighed. "It might seem harsh, but I'm trying to protect you. I'll burn this world if something bad happens to you."

I understood, I really did. Now that I have been exposed to this world, there's always a chance that, for example, a vindictive enemy might take me and use me to their advantage because I was Mingi's biggest weakness.

He tried very hard to hide me so I'd be safe, but that could only last so long and the next thing we knew, random people would bow to me in respect in random places. Mingi had cursed hard back then, it meant that the word had spread.

"It's like you don't trust me to take care of myself," I couldn't help but resent him.

"That's not true, my love," Mingi frowned. "I trust you, it's them I don't trust."

He lifts up a small box for me to see. I didn't even notice him getting it. "Open it," he grinned excitedly after I took it from him.

The most beautiful bluish-purplish ring bestowed itself upon me. I raised a brow in curiosity as I took it from its case and examined it against the light. I couldn't help but be in awe, and Mingi seemed to be pleased.

"What is this?" I asked as the light shone through it, a sudden viridescence from it making me raise my brows.

"This," he began, grabbing my hand and inserting the ring on my middle finger. "Is what we call an alexandrite, my water lily."

"It's beautiful," I stated truthfully. "But you know I don't like flashy things."

"No," he wiggled fingers playfully. "You said you didn't like diamonds, we never agreed upon anything else."

I rolled my eyes. There was no escaping how scheming and cunning he was. "Where'd you get it? They are rare here."

"Oh, from that guy we were dealing with from last month," he shrugged, crushing the cigarette butt on the tray to put it out. "I got it from him."

I paused for a bit, then frowned deeply. "You mean that deal you had? That guy hates your guts," I pointed out in confusion. I squinted my eyes when I saw his lips threatening to smirk. "What was he doing?"

"He was pretty busy," he stated nonchalantly.

"Busy as in?"

"Busy, uh," Mingi cleared his throat as he got up from the bed and began dressing up. "You know, busy passing away..."

I almost reeled in shock, not because of what he said, but how nonchalant he was over it. But I suppose it was his line of work after all, so I can't really say anything about it. I was perfectly fine with Mingi's world not revolving around me.

If only he could slow down on hovering over me, however.

"You killed him," I deadpanned, unimpressed. "For the ring?"

"Well, yeah," he was fiddling his tie and then sighed in defeat. "But not necessarily for that alone---kitten, can you fix this for me?"

I gingerly put a bathrobe on and began tying it for him. "You know you can't buy my affection," I looped the tie once before pulling it. "But thank you, I appreciate it."

He eyed the ring on my finger in satisfaction before bending down to give me a quick kiss. "I'll be back in a couple of days, call Hongjoong if you need me, but until then, behave for me."

I hummed. He was going on a "business trip" of some sorts, with what? That I didn't want to know. Of course, he couldn't leave before a little quickie with me.

"And why should I do that?" I smirked, pulling on his tie to give him a kiss of my own.

I yelped when he squeezed my ass. "Because you're a good girl, and you know it," he whispered. "Or you can act up, I don't mind. I'll have fun punishing you when I come back."

"Bye, Mingi," I giggled. "Come back to me soon, okay?"

His eyes softened before he pulled away. "You know I always will."

I went straight to the shower when Mingi left. I didn't want him to leave, he never liked it when I did it anyway. It was already difficult to leave me, he said. Me watching him would tempt him to take me.

Life was well, or it was as good as it gets. I quit my job as a waitress a couple of months back because it was difficult to manage two lives now. He did let me keep it so I'd still have a semblance of normalcy in my life, but it was better this way.

I did enjoy the life that Mingi provided for me. It wasn't all bad, he would keep me away from as much violence as much as he possibly can, and he was an amazing lover. The rest of the members were also good to me. Sometimes, though, I just couldn't help but feel lonely.

My whole world revolved around this life now and Mingi was always busy. Everyone respected me, but that respect was only because I was Mingi's special person. Of course, they don't want to face his wrath.

College was a thing I truly enjoyed, it gave me time off from this life, and I also loved studying in general. True to his words, he did pay for my tuition so I wouldn't work anymore.

"Trouble in paradise?" Yunho asked in amusement when I marched downstairs where. He bowed to me respectfully. "Hope you're having a great evening, our Queen."

"Your boss isn't here, loosen up," I chuckled as I sat down across from him in the lounge room of Mingi's house - also known as his lair.

Yunho was currently cleaning his pistol, a small rag used to shine and polish the barrel into perfection. "How are you doing, Y/N?"

I smiled. Everyone used to call me something formal but I fought Mingi for them to call me by my name. I disliked the divide between me and the members when all I was in reality was a regular person, after all, before my relationship with Mingi.

"Same old. Just living life little by little," I shrugged. Yunho smirked at my response and chose not to say anything. "Are you my guard until Mingi comes back?"

"That would be me," a voice behind me said just as Yunho was about to shake his head.

"What's up, Yeo?" I grinned when I turned around and the muscular man patted my shoulder once before he sat down next to me. "Love the hair."

"Yeah?" Yeosang brushed his fingers through his hair. "I thought Hongjoong did a whack job before he bolted behind Mingi's balls."

Yunho and I snorted at the imagery. I still remember when I met him, though the memory wasn't all good when I was cornered in that alley a year ago. His then green hair was now a lovely shade of mahogany brown.

"Nice ring," he pointed out after noticing it on my finger.

Yunho glanced once and looked away, but then did a comical double take with widened eyes. "Hold on a damn minute," he nudged my finger up with the tip of his gun. "This ring looks awfully familiar."

Yeosang's face lit up in recognition. "It's from that stake out last month," he frowned. "I'm surprised, he was hostile. What changed his mind?"

"Oh, you know. Mingi said he was pretty busy," I shrugged.

"Busy as in?" Yunho squinted his eyes.

"Busy passing away."

"What?" he hissed, banging the gun on the table roughly. "He killed him? I needed that guy, I told him I needed him, that crazy fuck!"

"Why are you so surprised?" Yeosang scoffed. "Remember that restaurant in Barcelona?"

"Ugh, don't even mention that," I groaned. A couple of months ago when we traveled to Spain, I mentioned I pointed out to the first restaurant I saw, but it was via reservations only.

Let's just say that the owner thanked us not for eating there, but for sparing his life at the end of the night.

"I gotta thank you though," Yeosang snorted as he elbowed my sides. "Life's been peaceful for us ever since you came. You tamed the beast."

"Where did you meet again?" Yunho questioned, completely setting his guns aside to tune in. "Mingi's story changes three times a week depending on who's asking."

I laughed nervously. I was not about to tell them that their boss technically coerced me into a relationship - well, not really, I liked him anyway. The point stands, however, and I knew Mingi; if he didn't tell anyone, that means he didn't want anyone to know.

"You can ask Seonghwa, he was there," I deflected. it was the truth, he was there.

"Ha! That stuck up will talk if only hell freezes over," Yunho rolled his eyes.

"Hongjoong was there, too."

"That's liar number two," Yeosang deadpanned.

"Yun! Are you ready to go?" a voice suddenly called out. I let out the breath I was holding. That just saved me from an awkward conversation.

"I'm coming!" Yunho called out, craning his neck in the direction of the voice calling out. "On second thought, come over here and pay your respects!"

Footsteps approached from the other side of the room and the group's master combat fighter approached us with the most intimidating aura, but make no mistake, this man is the sweetest person behind his big muscles and fierce gaze.

"I am terribly sorry for my disrespect, dear Queen, I had no idea you were here," San bowed lowly and respectfully towards me. When he looked back up, he was grinning. "Nice ring, Y/N. That guy put up a fight."

"Bastard," Yunho shoved San's shoulder, steam virtually coming off of his ears. "You know I needed that cunt."

"Not my fault," San glared at the taller. "I'm just following orders. Plus, that maggot was pissing me off anyway. I hate whiners."

"Where are you guys going?" I asked curiously, trying to change the topic when Yunho stood up and put his gun in its holster while he fist-bumped San anyway.

"Hey, Yeo," San nodded at the latter before looking back at me. "Your boyfriend asked us to train some rookies while he's out."

The redhead rolled his eyes playfully before he continued. "He just can't stand us being idle even though he's not here to supervise us."

"Permission to leave, my Queen," Yunho bowed respectfully before he left with San. I shook my head, no matter how much I tell them to be casual, I just have to accept that they'll always think me higher than I actually am.

"Want to get ice cream with me, Yeo?" I offered, twirling my car keys between my fingers, the same Bugatti that Mingi gave me last year. "I'm bored."

"Are you doing it for me or you just want to go out?" Yeosang raised his brows. "Mingi knows everything."

I giggled, caught in my lie. "Well, both at this point. I don't want you tattling to Mingi."

Yeosang laughed. "It is for your own good," he gently said, walking towards the door with me. "And I'd love to get ice cream with you, my Queen."

I repeatedly fixed my hair on the car visor in anxiety. I was usually never one to care about my appearance, but today I was especially anxious for no reason.

"You look nice, Y/N, I like your hair," Wooyoung side-eyed me affectionately before he resumed concentrating on driving. "Is there something the matter?"

"No, Woo, thanks for asking though," I sighed as he turned to the university gates, cruising along slowly, but not without the many students staring at the marvelous car.

I cursed, usually any of them would take me in a regular car, or another high end car that's at least inconspicuous enough, but Mingi had taken it with him because he also needed something unnoticeable and undetectable.

"Friend to friend," Wooyoung spoke with a small frown. "I promise not to tell Mingi, are you having problems with school?"

I frowned. Of all the members, Wooyoung knew me the most. We were co-workers in the restaurant I used to work at for years before I even found out he was only using it as a front so he looked like a regular student.

"No, at least, not that I know of," I truthfully told him. "I'd just look for you whenever I have issues."

"I'd skip my classes for you in a heartbeat," he smiled. "But I need a definite reason so I have an excuse to drag Jongho."

Right. The three of us went to the same college. They were both a year below me so we had different schedules and different buildings. I shook my head to assure him.

"I'll be sure to call you if I do, I promise," I sincerely told him. "Anyway, I want to go to lunch with the both of you later, so make sure to tell Jongho."

"Noted dutifully, my Queen," Wooyoung finally turned the engine off after he parked. "You wanna meet up here or at the hall later?"

"Hall's fine," I waved offhandedly. I got a bit distracted and I was a bit taken aback when my door opened. Wooyoung had already gotten out and opened it for me. "Stop doing that," I frowned.

I groaned when he ruffled my hair with a giggle. "I'd do anything for a beautiful lady like you," he winked flirtatiously when I got out of the car. "But seriously, I don't want Mingi to cut my head off and plant it on a stake."

I snorted as we both walked towards the entrance. "He's not here to see."

"Are you kidding me?" Wooyoung deadpanned, stopping at the hall intersection. My class was on the left and his was on the opposite side on the right. "Mingi knows everything," he shivered. "Trust me."

"I'll see you later, Wooyoung," I rolled my eyes playfully. He bowed lightly, muttering his respects before he left for his class.

When I walked to my classroom, it was empty and I realized that I was a bit too early, so it was not a surprise. With a sigh, I decided to hang by the hall that overlooked the entire school.

I thought about Mingi. I haven't seen him in almost a week by now and I couldn't help but wonder what he was doing. During these moments, he never usually held his phone - something about his enemies tracking him - so talking to him was a dud either.

I'd gotten so used to him and it did feel lonely that he wasn't with me, but at the same time, it was slightly liberating. He would never take me to university, himself, but he would mouth off anyone to do it because he was extremely overprotective of me. I bit back a smile, it was always the little things that proved he truly loved me.

"So yesterday, it was that scary tall guy, but today it was Jung Wooyoung. How many men do you have on your notch, Y/N?"

I closed my eyes and bit off the urge to groan loudly. That was the source of my hesitation to Wooyoung earlier when he asked if I was okay. It was the bane of my existence, the one and only biggest thorn on my side and for what? I have no idea.

"That's none of your business," I frowned. She was referring to Seonghwa because he walked with me all the way to my class and picked me up as well, garnering all the attention. I can't say I don't understand - Seonghwa was an attractive man.

"Seriously, how do you do it?" she giggled in that fake laugh of hers, high pitched and grating. "That pussy of yours must be magical."

I gritted my teeth, but kept my cool. The last thing I wanted was attention. "What do you want, Hana?"

Ever since the start of the school year, this girl and her cronies have always had it on me. It all started when Ateez guided me and picked me up on different occasions. The fact that they were hands on with me all the time certainly held a different implication.

"Mind your tone with me, you whore," she hissed venomously. "I hate people like you, you know? The ones that pretend that they're all that..."

She went near me and I froze when she leaned towards my ear. "But they're nothing but sluts like you who spread their legs for different men everyday," she whispered with a smirk.

It took everything in me to not yank her hair. It was all jealousy, I knew. After all, all the flashy cars, the handsome men, and my newfound sophisticated fashion would get noticed somehow, but I had a boyfriend and his organization to protect.

There is always that option to annihilate her, and I did try bringing it up to you Mingi at one point, but it wasn't worth it.

"Must you always irritate me?" I raised an annoyed brow at her. It wasn't like she was nothing either, Hana was our school topnotcher and she was actually cute if she wasn't such a nuisance.

She began glaring at me, looking at me from bottom to up, until her eyes landed on a specific area. "Nice ring," she stated. I harshly swatted her hands away when she tried to look at it. "Don't be like that, Y/N!"

"Leave me--hey!" I exclaimed when her claws gripped my hand a little too hard and had actually taken my ring off.

But I was no pussy. She screamed when I yanked her hair and tried to grab the ring that Mingi had gifted to me as a proof of his love. I wasn't about to let no bitch take it away from me. He literally killed a man just so he could give it to me.

"Let me go!" I screeched when her cronies held me by the arm and stopped me. I saw red when Hana put the ring on her finger and lifted her hand to examine it. She giggled afterwards, muttering how good it looked on her.

I couldn't resist the rolling of my eyes. I was too old for this high school bullshit, really. I shook her cronies arms off of me successfully. "I didn't know you liked blood diamonds," I smirked, riling her up. "I suggest you give it back, you don't know where that came from."

I mentally cursed when the hall began to fill with people. Hana used that to her advantage and smirked dirtily at me. "You can always ask for more from your sugar daddies," she laughed before walking away.

I took a deep breath to control the oncoming rage that threatened to swallow me whole. I glared at her back as she started to walk away, smirking.

She can have her fun for now. I wasn't Mingi's partner for absolutely no reason. I will get my payback even if it took me a while.

It didn't stop me from feeling like crap the whole day, though. I had to cancel the lunch with Wooyoung and Jongho because they'll notice my sour mood. And they weren't dumb, they'll find Hana and they'll kill her. She's a horrible bitch, but I don't want Ateez to be the center of attention.

But overall, I was just upset about the ring. I didn't care how expensive it was, I loved it because the love of my life gave it to me. I unconsciously touched my finger, feeling naked without it, but I'll leave it for now.

Dumb, I know. Certainly unbecoming of a proper female lead like me, I'm aware, but that's fine, I'll play the game but just know - Hana will get her unbecoming from me.

"Everything okay, beloved Queen?" Seonghwa frowned when he saw how silent and tense I was. I was so pissed all day that I didn't even realize that the day was over.

I glared hard at Hana, who was busy showing off the ring and gloating in the attention she was getting for something that was mine. She turned and saw me, glaring hard at me when she noticed how Seonghwa put an arm across my shoulder.

I rolled my eyes so hard I was surprised they didn't pop off. What a hypocrite, the way she stared at Seonghwa like a piece of meat was disgusting.

"I'm just tired," I deflected. "Thanks for picking me up, Hwa. I wish I could just drive myself home so I wouldn't bother you guys."

"With all due respect, Y/N, but that is the dumbest thing you've said in a while," Seonghwa opened the door for me and I got in without hesitation.

I didn't miss all the stares the car got but at this point, I didn't care. "We love taking our time to serve you, Y/N, please believe me," Seonghwa said as sped the engine and began to zoom across the city. "Is everything okay though? I heard you canceled lunch."

"Yes. Is Mingi home?" I tried to change the subject. If one more person asked if I was okay and I would explode on the spot.

"He certainly is, our Queen, he was actually looking for you," Seonghwa smiled. "Would you like to go home and see him or would you like to buy a snack for yourself?"

"You spoil me," I giggled.

Seonghwa laughed. "But, of course. Mingi will literally carve out our internal organs and hang them outside."

I cringed. First Wooyoung's head-on-a-stake threat, and now this. It gets worse each time. "Seonghwa," I began. His dragon-esque features contorted in question. "Do you guys...only treat me like this simply because I'm Mingi's special person?"

Seonghwa was visibly taken aback by the question. "Y/N, how long have you been thinking about this?" he sighed at my lack of response. "Y/N..."

"I just can't help but wonder," I murmured. I was ashamed of myself, Hana really got under my skin. "And Mingi---"

"I'm gonna have to stop you right there," Seonghwa's voice was stern. "While, yes, it did start out as paying respects to our moll, but we genuinely like you for you," he softly explained. "And don't get me started with Mingi, he genuinely loves you."

"You think so?" I asked meekly, fiddling with my purse like it was interesting.

"Y/N, I know so. We are not blind, plus we know Mingi. Hongjoong kept complaining because Mingi's patience ran thin quickly when you're not near."

Everyone always told me that apparently, Mingi was a completely different person before he met me. "Granted your, uh, the way you met wasn't the best," Seonghwa cleared his throat. "But please believe me when I say that his feelings for you are genuine, and we do consider you as our friend, if that's not any disrespect, my Queen."

I patted his hand that was on top of the gear stick tenderly. "Thank you, Seonghwa," I smiled warmly at him. "I suppose a snack wouldn't be too bad, what would you like?"

"I'm not too picky, plus it's your snack, not mine," he chuckled. "You're very thoughtful, Y/N. It's no wonder Mingi loves you."

I decided on buying a crap ton of doughnuts in the end. Mingi had a habit of watching over the training grounds whenever he came home after a long trip. I know for a fact that the rest of Ateez would be there, so I decided on a snack that's light and easy to grab.

"What took you guys so long?" Hongjoong greeted us by the door after me and Seonghwa got out of the car. He bowed down low when he saw me right behind Seonghwa. "Greetings to the Queen."

He patted me on the shoulder once as he grabbed the doughnut boxes. "It's good to see you, Y/N," he smiled back. "These doughnuts? What's the occasion?"

"Not much," I shrugged, nodding when Seonghwa asked for permission to leave. "I just figured I'd get everyone something. How was your week with Mingi?"

"Atrocious," he snorted as he led me to the area where new recruits would train. "I saw a glimpse of the old Mingi, this was the longest time he was away from you and he's like a damn toddler."

I couldn't help the loud laugh that bubbled from my chest. "That bad, huh?"

"You have no idea," Hongjoong laugh out loud. "He's Mr. Lover Boy with you, but he's a massive dick on the scene. Don't tell him I said that."

I cackled without grace at his statement. Leave it to Hongjoong to talk without any filters on. It's what I like about him the most, it was so refreshing because the rookies would always tremble and wouldn't even look me in the eye when I'm speaking.

"Anyway, he's in a nasty mood right now because he thought you'd be home when he came," he said. I rolled my eyes. "Would you like to see him, still?"

"Yes, please. Thank you, Hongjoong."

I've seen Mingi in action, this was no different. He was the coldest of the cold and it might seem like a teen cliche flick, but that's how he was. It worked very well in his favour, though, you don't just own a mob without reason.

Mingi was the second son of the Song family. He refuses to tell me the details, and all I knew was that his older brother never wanted the throne, but Mingi did and so he coveted it, and that's fine. I didn't need to know the details to love the man.

I was just an orphan who was trying to struggle in this world. It wasn't all that bad, I actually did enjoy my life before I met Mingi. I loved him dearly, and he does I, but it was a mutually beneficial transaction after all.

As we neared the grounds, I could hear the familiar booming scream of someone that always talked to me like I'm fragile glass.

"It's not that difficult, it's not like I'm asking you to eat a whole fucking lettuce and shit out some Greek salad. You should've stayed as a blowjob, fuckface. On with it, go!"

"Is he always like this?" I asked Hongjoong with an amused face as Mingi's yells bellowed on the entire space.

"Yes and no," Hongjoong chuckled. "He doesn't actually get involved in the training, well, we don't really train per se, but if you're asking about his mouth, then yeah. That's how he is."

When we both stepped on the grounds, nobody even noticed us. I raised my brows in fascination, there were multiple people - people who I assume are trying to get in the ranks - spread out in varying positions, but all of them stood stick straight as they looked forward.

Everyone was there too, minus Wooyoung and Jongho who both still have a couple of classes.

"What seems to garner your attention rather than us, bottom feeder?" I heard San's voice at the far end of the field. I looked at Hongjoong and he was smirking.

"Uh," the poor lad who was San's victim pointed at the sky. "I saw some g-geese flying around..."

"I see," San nodded a bit before looking at the flying geese, himself. "Well, do you feel like flying, yourself?"

"I-I'm sorry, S-Sir?"

"You heard me," San grinned. He snapped a finger and Yeosang, who I didn't even notice, pointed a gun at the poor bloke's foot. "Fly."

"B-But---"

"And you better chase after them real nice," Yeosang smirked. "Come on, my finger's really itchy right now..."

I watched in morbid fascination as the guy yelped and actively chased the flying geese around, his arms flapping out towards the sky as he mimicked the flying birds.

The other people gulped but stood still so they wouldn't be the next one. I watched San turn around, his face contorting into the most painful looking smile as he tried not to burst out laughing. He discreetly high fived Yeosang, who also sported the same expression.

"Never gets old," Hongjoong chuckled, himself.

"Who exactly are these people?" I frowned.

"Underlings, so to speak. They handle petty crimes," he explained. "The youngest ones, San, Woo, and Jongho, used to do it simply because of the seniority we held, but as Ateez grew, we eight only handled the most important ones."

My prize was on the uppermost frontal area, however. I smiled softly when I watched the man I haven't seen in almost a week, wanting nothing but to run towards him and give him the tightest hug ever. I took my time raking my eyes over him and I couldn't help but feel hot all over.

He was currently with Yunho and the two seemed to be in a serious conversation with Seonghwa as the bird-man fiasco was going on in the background. They didn't seem to notice me and Hongjoong lingering around the corner.

"I could ask Yunho to bring over Mingi here," Hongjoong suggested, but I shook my head, muttering 'it's fine' under my breath.

Suddenly, Mingi nodded once to Seonghwa, face as serious as ever, and patted him twice in the back before he broke off and marched towards the front again.

"If that flying twat over there doesn't stop, I'll toss you as bird feed," Mingi pointed at Yeosang before he rubbed his temples in annoyance. "The rest, spread apart by a foot."

Wordlessly, the underlings held a formation that even I found pathetic. Mingi's vein popped out of his neck. "You call that a formation?" he barked loudly. "Spread out!"

They were too spooked to do it, but did so anyway in a poor attempt. "Further," Mingi chided with a raised brow. "Further, you cocksuckers, further."

Just then, I saw Seonghwa point in our direction and Yunho made eye contact with me in surprise. He bowed his head lightly as he stood up. I shook my head at him with a small smile and pointed at Mingi.

"I said a foot, worthless pigs, a foot! How hard is that?" Mingi bellowed so loudly, I was tempted to cover my ears. "What in the fucking world, Your girlfriends and boyfriends have been lying to you!"

He looked absolutely murderous. It was nothing short of horrifying - Mingi was tall, and this attribute of his made him look more intimidating, and the way he carried himself in his authority was something to be rivaled. He was also an intelligent man, he knew when to use this authority and when not to use it for his advantage.

If I was at the end of all that yelling, I suppose I'd be terrified as well. This was the side of him that he refused to let me see.

"My Queen, I think that's our queue," Hongjoong pointed at the field. By this time, San and Yeosang had already seen us as well and everyone else's eyes were on me now. I shifted uncomfortably at the attention.

"The fuck are you little cretins looking at?" Mingi snarled. He turned to look at San, and the man coughed while he pointed in my direction.

For a second, Mingi's vicious eyes were pointed at me when he looked, but it soon melted into a mix of shock and innocent excitement with all the love he held for me.

"My beautiful sunshine," he breathed in, as if not believing what he was seeing.

"Hi," I greeted weakly. Mingi smiled widely at me, much to the astonishment of everyone present, and spread one arm out, beckoning me to come to him.

I didn't hesitate and ran as fast as I could to him and he didn't think twice to pull me close to him. All my worries melted away in his embrace as if they never existed in the first place. "I missed you," I whispered.

"Did you now, sweet pea?" Mingi had a small smirk on his lips that was nothing short of affection towards me. He kissed my forehead tenderly before he leaned his head on the crook of my shoulders.

"You weren't here when I came home," his muffled voice sounded.

"I'm sorry that I have a life to live," I chuckled jokingly as I ran my fingers through his hair. "Weren't you supposed to come home later, anyway?"

"I rushed, it was hell without you," he groaned before he lifted up and held my face gently. "You should wait for me naked next time."

"No, Mingi. We talked about this," I giggled. "By the way, I bought some doughnuts for everyone."

"Yeah?" Mingi hummed and looked at Yunho and Hongjoong helping themselves. "Slobs," he rolled his eyes. "Why are there a lot, though?"

"Oh, I bought some for them too," I gestured to all the underlings on the field like it was nothing.

Mingi paused, his eyes hardening as he looked out towards the field. "No," he hissed, his eyes darting dangerously at the wide-eyed men one by one.

Mingi's public display of his affection towards me rendered them into an awkward silence. I frowned when I felt Mingi spin me around and now I was faced with fear-stricken individuals who don't even want to look me in the eyes.

"Everyone, this is my love and also my queen," Mingi began, voice resolute and tinged with hardness. "And yours too, should I accept any of you. Pay your respects."

Nobody moved, not even an inch. Has Mingi really changed a lot? It was so mind boggling to me because he's been nothing but a great support system for me. And these people looked terrified of me in extension.

"Well?" Mingi's voice boomed from behind me expectantly. I jumped a bit from the intensity of his voice and he murmured a quick apology to me along with a small kiss to my head.

It seemed to make everyone's blood rush away from their faces. At first I didn't understand, but Jongho explained it to me well one evening.

"A man who has his greatest weakness in the form of their love through another person is far more dangerous than a thousand armies because he has everything to gain and everything to lose."

I was Mingi's greatest weakness, but I could bring death. If anyone touches a single hair on my head, then it's over for them.

I smirked, it felt great to have all this power in my hands. Mingi's squeeze on my hips indicated that he knew what I was thinking and he approved.

"So it's true, the almighty Song Mingi and Ateez does have a queen..."

"Who said that?" Mingi snarled, his hold on me tightening. "Are you an idiot from the bottom of your heart?"

Yeosang, with a huge strawberry doughnut with sprinkles in his mouth, kicked a boy no older than twenty-one behind his leg to push him forward.

"Think you're tough shit, small fry?" Mingi called out. I heard snickers from behind us, from either Seonghwa and Yunho. "I bet that even if it rained pussy right now, you'd still have a dick in your mouth. Name?"

I ignored Mingi's vulgarity. "S-Shin Myungsoo, Sir," the boy hesitantly looked at me. "I p-pay respect to the esteemed Q-Queen."

Mingi hummed in approval. "Good," he beamed, baring his teeth like an apex predator. "But you do look like you haven't fucked with anyone before."

The poor boy squirmed under all the Don's attention. "You ever fucked another man, Myungsoo?" Mingi asked in amusement.

"N-No, Sir, not that I recall..."

Mingi blinked repeatedly, tilting his head in curiosity. "Would you like to?"

"Mingi," I elbowed him discreetly so as to not embarrass his authority as loud guffaws of laughter and cackles from the rest of Ateez could be heard from behind me.

"Alright, I'm sorry, love. Let's go," he gently guided me by the waist, his sweet attitude throwing me off as well. He tossed something that Hongjoong caught easily. "Joong, take over."

"Aye," the latter smirked.

"He's in," Mingi pointed at Myungsoo with his thumb. He turned to the said kid and nodded. "You got balls, kid."

He got a doughnut for himself before we both walked out of there. "Enjoy your day, ladies."

We were met with groans of faux annoyance and Mingi only laughed when we had walked away. The moment we were out of sight, Mingi leaned down and our lips met.

I yelped when he suddenly lifted me in his arms bridal style. "Don't scare me like that," I laughed out loud as I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I really missed you, baby."

"I'm never doing that again," he mused with a small shake of his head as he started walking while he carried me. "I should take you next time."

I hummed in fascination. "I always ask to come, you're the one who always says no..."

I trailed off, tilting my head and Mingi looked at me expectantly. "You have, uh," I pointed at his lip. "A little something here."

He got one of those powdered donuts and it left its trail on his lips. Mingi tried to wipe his lips repeatedly but he couldn't seem to get it out.

"Let me," I murmured. Without thinking, I leaned in and instead of wiping it with my fingers like a normal person, I licked it away. Sweetness automatically covered my tongue.

"You did not just do what I think you did," he smirked at me, his eyes significantly getting darker by the minute. I shrugged in response. "Do it again."

I blinked repeatedly before I did as he wanted. It was only the start of our night and the night was long ahead of us.

Things went back to normal a couple of days after. I decided to skip my classes - do as I say, kids, not as I do! - so I could spend time with Mingi

"May I ask why you're making me park towards the back entrance, my Queen?" San, my designated driver for today, had a curious look on his face.

I grimaced, not expecting him to actually ask questions. The others always did it without hesitation, except San.

Whenever I went home, Mingi is always in his office doing things I don't understand so I'd have time to compose myself before I went to him, but lately ever since he came home, he's been hanging out in our bedroom for some reason.

"Can you just do as I say, please?" I cringed. It never really felt good to me whenever I'd command anyone in general. "I'll make it up to you--"

"A bit too late for that," he interjected. "Look."

I sighed, dejected. By the back door was Mingi, he was just standing there as he watched San park the car. "How did you know I was avoiding him?" I wondered.

"Sometimes, I think that you forget what it is that I do," San winked. "And for the record I didn't," he hesitated a bit before he continued. "You should know that Mingi knows everything."

I was screwed. It was the same warning that Wooyoung told me before. I said a quick thanks to San for picking me up and I got out of the car with the fakest smile I have ever mustered on my face and gave Mingi a chaste kiss on the lips.

"How was your day, little dove?" Mingi's deep voice always brought me comfort, but this time, it brought me anxiety.

That, or I was just extremely paranoid.

"It was good," I shrugged, the lie making my tongue itch. "Yours?"

His eyes travelled all over my face before his smirk grew wider. "Good," he placed a hand around my waist. "Is there anything you wish to tell me?"

"N-No, Mingi, I don't," I managed to stutter out, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

"Where's the ring I gave you?"

I froze in my place. There it was, the sole reason why I was avoiding him. The excuse I was formulating in my head was that if he asked, I would have told him that I already took it off and kept it in the room.

Again, I couldn't do that because he's been in our room a lot.

"Oh, I didn't feel like wearing it today," I said a lot more smoothly than I thought I'd do since it was a big, fat lie. "W-Why are you here anyway?"

I didn't want him involved. I'd get my ring back, myself, and I'd teach that little shit the lesson she needed.

Mingi raised a brow. He looked at me inquisitively, but he didn't say a word.

My heart was about to leap out of my chest, it was the most tense fifteen seconds of my entire life, it was much worse when we were at that subway station a year prior.

"I see," he drawled out lazily. "Look at me, Y/N."

I yelped when he pushed me back against the wall as he towered over me. I craned my neck up robotically to look at him. I was already nervous as all hell and he was making it worse. He rarely called me by my name at this point.

"I-Is there a problem?" I managed to stutter out.

"I don't know, you tell me," he shrugged in mock fashion. "Why have you been entering from the back door?"

I grimaced. "I wasn't."

He stared at me some more, his eyes holding an expression I couldn't pinpoint. It was like he knew what I was thinking, but the little smirk on his face indicated that he'll let me have my secrets for now.

I mentally shook my head. There was no way he knew. I knew Mingi, if he actually knew, there would have been no stopping his fury. It wasn't much of a secret that Mingi can kill someone faster than he could blink.

"Kitten," he began, his finger slowly tracing my cheek, my jaw, down to the outline of my cleavage. "Are you sure?"

If I listened to my intuition, I would have keeled over and spilled everything to him. Mingi had always been the apex predator, and I had always been his prey that he's been absolutely obsessed with for some reason.

"Positive," I responded after a while with a small smile on my face to assure him.

I was going to regret that, I could feel it. He leaned away, his eyes expressionless. "Very well."

I released the breath I didn't know I was holding when he turned his back on me. The air was so tense, I could feel the panic in my chest threatening to take over. There weren't a lot of things that rendered Song Mingi silent, I wasn't sure about this one.

"College treating you well?" Mingi's deep voice filled the silence. He began pouring rum on the fine crystal glass that lay waiting on the nightstand. He had a thing for keeping alcohol in our room.

"As good as it could get," I replied dryly, removing my accessories and my clothes to change onto something more comfortable.

He hummed, low and slow. He took one swig of the earthy alcohol on his hand before nodding in appreciation of its taste. "Remember to keep a low profile," he grunted out. "Don't forget."

"I know, you've told me this before," I frowned. "I'm not associated with this...world enough to give it out for other people to take."

"Sure, you are," his voice tilting towards that possessive edge. "You're mine, that is your identity."

I paused. "What does that mean?" I asked, my voice strained from confined vexation.

"Exactly what it sounds like," he deadpanned, his face stony, his eyes dark, and his form relaxed. He looked like a true villain. "It is by far the most important thing you'll ever be."

I resisted the urge to scoff. The nerve of this man and his audacity will never fail to surprise me. "And what?" I raised a brow. It was a challenge to his authority. "My identity besides that doesn't matter to you? L/N Y/N, the college student, doesn't matter?"

He tilted his head at me, unimpressed and borderline displeased. "This isn't for me," he reiterated, the tone of his voice tinged with annoyance. "I'm not with you 24/7 to swoop in to save the day. And I still need you."

"But I don't want you to save the day, Mingi. Seriously?" I untied my hair in frustration and I yanked my own hair a little too hard. "And what the hell do you mean 'you need me'? I'm not your doll---"

"You better not finish that sentence, Y/N, I'm warning you," he slammed the glass down the table with a loud thunk. "You know that's not what I mean, do not put words in my damn mouth."

"What was I supposed to think, then?" I hissed. I glared at him so hard, my own eyes hurt. I almost wanted to scoff, he didn't even seem fazed.

His grip on the glass tightens, however. "Y/N," he gritted my name out in warning.

"No, Mingi. You're going to listen to me," I declared, not caring what he said after. "I'm my own person too, goddamn it. Everything is about how you'd feel or what you wanted, but what about my well-being or my own personal growth?"

This wasn't the first time we've had this argument, if you could call it that since it's like talking to a brick wall. I knew he always had my best interest at heart, I really did, but as the year passed, it got difficult to see and feel.

Everything still ended up with either what he wanted to happen, or whenever he'd ask what I'd do, it always ended up back to him. The worst was that he only did things for me when it benefitted him.

"Where is this coming from?" Mingi loosened his tie roughly and took another shot of the rum. "You talk as if I don't give a flying fuck about you, Y/N."

"But it sure as hell feels like that," I retorted in anger. "I know you love me, but do you love me because you need me, or do you need me because you love me?"

My heart bled when his face dropped for a split second. Suddenly, something in him snapped. "What are you doing? If you have all these problems, you could have talked to me a long time ago," he snarled.

"We are talking, no? This is exactly why I don't," I snapped, going forward and taking a shot, myself. I hated it, but I was too pissed to show it.

"Goddamn it, goddamn you," he hissed. He snatched the glass from me and threw a bottle of water at me. "Drink it."

"I'm not done---"

"Drink it," he growled at me and for a second, he looked horrifying. "Or so help me God, Y/N. You're testing my patience."

I scowled, twisting the cap off and quickly downing at least a quarter more than the amount I'd usually drink in one go to wash off the unpleasant taste of the alcohol from my mouth. "Happy?" I sneered.

"Hardly," he snatched the bottle and slammed it against the table. He crossed his arms and continued berating me. "I don't know what your pretty little head has been thinking, Y/N, but let me tell you something. Whether or not you believe it, I do care for you. I care for you more than I've ever gave a fuck on this damn planet."

"Let me be my own person, Mingi, please," I whispered in defeat. "It's like you don't trust me to not spill your secrets or something, that pisses me off. I get why you don't let me out alone, I really do, so I'm way past that."

I waved my arms around to gather my thoughts, overstimulated with all the emotions I was feeling all at once. "But it's the fact that all these decisions of yours that involve me, I don't even have a say in it. It's like you don't care about what I feel."

"But I do, my angel, is that how low you think of me?" Mingi sighed very loudly in exasperation. He pauses, like a thought just struck in his head. "Am I suffocating you?"

"Yes," I replied without missing a beat.

He squinted his eyes on me, not loving my answer, but he didn't say anything. "It's almost as if I was the 'prize' that you already claimed and now you can just do whatever you want."

For a moment, we both didn't say anything. The air was so brittle that it could snap in a moment if one of us broke the silence. When everything was said and done, I automatically regretted everything I said. I was so stressed about everything that I used Mingi as my punching bag.

I looked at him and he was royally pissed, as he should even though it hurt me. Rage painted his face, and sadness washed over me because he usually never directed that look of pure anger towards me.

But I wasn't going to prevail. I loved him, and that's why I feel bad, but my point stands.

"Of all the people in this godforsaken planet," Mingi began, his eyes setting on me with a hard glare. "I am the last person you'd ever want to pick a fight with, bunny. Trust me on that."

He had always been the dominant type, and the fact that I just questioned his love for me not only bruised his pride, but also hurt his feelings. I could see it on his face.

He began to swirl the amber-coloured spirit in its glass slowly before he took one last sip and set the glass some indefinitely tonight. It was moments like this where I remember how intimidating he actually was.

"Can I ask you something?" Mingi finally said after a while. I didn't reply, but he asked anyway. "Do you love me, Y/N?"

"Of course," I blurted out.

"So shut your mouth. I have had people talk like this to me many times before," he spoke, his voice quiet. He dug into his coat pocket and produced a cigarette stick and proceeded to light it up.

"No one who did it is alive to tell you how poorly that worked for them," he slowly dragged out the stick and blew smoke rings. "You are the only one I allow to talk down on me like this, Y/N, but I am warning you."

His index finger pointed at me as a cautionary gesture. "This is the last time this conversation will ever happen. If you have nothing good to say, better not say anything at all. Understood?"

I nodded as I avoided eye contact, but he wasn't having it. "I need words, angel. I don't ever want to hear that I don't love you. Answer."

"Yes, I understand," I replied gingerly in defeat.

"Good," he said flatly. "Get out of my sight."

I was taken aback at his hostility. I stared at him, but all he did was stare back. He was really pissed. "You can't kick me out," I frowned. "This is my room too!"

"Fine," Mingi started to stalk forward until he stopped directly in front of me. "I'll stay in the guest room for now. You can take all the time in the world to fix this bitchy attitude of yours."

"Fine, you dickhead," I gritted. "I don't want to see you anyway."

He chuckled and I gasped when he suddenly wrapped his arm around my waist. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he took that as his queue to lean down and give me a quick peck. "I love you," I murmured. "But fuck you."

His eyes widened before he burst out laughing. "I guess I deserved that," he shook his head in amusement before he pulled away and went to open the door. "I'll see you later, love."

True to his words, he actually did end up staying in the guest room and he was there for probably a week now.

Now that I was without his domineering and overwhelming presence, I was able to think properly. Mingi wasn't a saint, but I was no angel, either. We were both toxic.

But he was much worse. I ended up loving him, but to this day, I'm not sure if he loves me or he just lusts after me. So I did the next best thing I could think of so he could have a taste of his own medicine.

"Y/N, can't you guys just talk?" Jongho groaned in frustration, banging his forehead against the marble table. "He's been in the worst fucking mood I've ever seen ever since I met him!"

We were currently on the rooftop just relaxing since it was the weekend and there was nothing better to do. "I didn't do anything," I shrugged.

"Exactly, you're not doing anything," Jongho sighed. "He's still so salty that you blocked him."

"It's not like he's blowing my phone up."

A vein popped on Jongho's neck. "My great Queen," he smiled sarcastically, trying to rein in his annoyance. "Let's just say that he's close to incinerating his phone from how much he's using it lately."

Before I could reply, we both whipped our heads towards the direction of the stairs where poor Yeosang was climbing while he carried the biggest bouquet of flowers I have ever seen.

"Special delivery," he grinned as he handed it to me. I smirked as I inspected it, I had to hand it to him, Mingi knew his flowers.

There were blue hyacinths, white orchids, and lilies of the valley combined all together - all of which are flowers that symbolize an apology and an acknowledgement of how they messed up.

By the third day, Mingi had realized how much he had fucked us up and he had tried everything in his power to see me, but I wasn't stupid. University suddenly became a blessing because I'd have classes coincidentally whenever he'd try something.

Calling me was a no-go either. I blocked him the moment he left the room that day, though it wasn't supposed to be this much of a problem. We literally lived in the same house and it's not like he's been traveling anyway.

"Give it back to him, I don't want it," I shoved the bouquet back at him. Like I said, I wasn't an angel either.

When that didn't work, he had sent Seonghwa to me with a distinct set of car keys from the dream car I've always wanted. I rejected that too.

"Keep it up," Seonghwa laughed out loud. "I like the fact that you're putting him in his place."

"That's not even it," I sighed. "When will this man learn that he can't buy my affection?"

The last straw was when he actually dragged Jongho from one of his classes so he could try something with me again, but I wasn't having it.

But I wasn't that vindictive. I missed him, I truly did. As much as he was the way he was, I couldn't help but miss his warmth and comfort. He loved me in the way he saw fit and that will always count for something.

As I was about to sleep, I heard a 'ding' from my phone. At first, I wasn't going to look at it, it might be Mingi or someone he put up to woo me and win me back, but when I looked, it was an unknown number.

Dear VIP customer, show this message to the stylist to receive the next hair cut FREE! Offer valid thru 05/06 plus 10% discount on purchases! Reply 'STOP' to cut out subscription.

I raised a brow in amusement. Of all the messages I was expecting to see, a promo scam was the last thing I expected.

I was in need of a nice haircut, now that I thought about it. Maybe it'll help Mingi see what he's been missing.

"Business nowadays are so creative," I chuckled as I began to type 'stop' on my phone.

I set my phone aside and began to try and find a comfortable position to lay down and sleep, but I growled in frustration when my phone dinged again.

I hastily grabbed my phone, but my anger dissipated when I saw that the same number had replied back.

Great. Unblock me. Now. - SMG

I blinked repeatedly on my phone in disbelief. Did he just do what I thought he actually did? With that, I laughed out loud. I laughed so hard tears started to form in my eyes and I had to make an effort to actually stop since my stomach was beginning to hurt.

The moment I had unblocked Mingi's number, my phone started to ring incessantly. I immediately picked it up.

"My peach?"

More tears started to spring from my eyes, but this time, it was out of relief and peace of mind. "H-Hi, Mingi."

I heard the same sigh of relief on his end and it was only then that I realized that I wasn't the only one hurting during this entire time. "I missed you so much," I sniffled. "I'm sorry for being a terrible girlfriend and for the things I said."

"Hush now, darling. I'm the one who should apologize," he whispered. "I'm so sorry that I've made you feel the way you did. I promise I'll be better."

"Can you come in the room so we can sleep?"

"I'm very sorry, but I'm not home right now," Mingi apologetically said. "I left an hour ago to the neighbouring city. I thought you were already asleep. I'll be back soon, okay?"

"I see," I muttered, sadness penetrating the line. "Am I disturbing you?"

"You could never disturb me, my love," he assured gently. "Do I have the privilege of taking you out to dinner tomorrow night to make up for it?"

The nervousness in his voice was so endearing to me. It reminded me of why I love this man so much. "Are you sure?" I asked hesitantly. "I don't think I deserve such good treatment from you..."

"Please, don't talk like that, sweetheart," he pleaded softly. "You deserve everything and more."

"Then, I'd love to go to dinner with you," I sincerely answered.

He made a small noise of excitement and we both laughed at his antics. God, he was so cute. "I'll let you go, you seem to be doing something," I said. "I'll see you soon, I love you."

"Wait," he suddenly blurted out. He hesitated, a pause on the line, before he spoke out. "Would you like to stay on the line until I get home?"

My heart exploded, a small smile painting my face. "I'd love to. Are you sure, though?"

"I'd like to see someone try and stop me," he chuckled. "Sleep, my sweet nectarine, I'll be here with you."

It proved to be the most peaceful sleep of my life in a long, long time. True to his words, Mingi stayed on the line, sometimes talking to me, sometimes just not saying anything, and I slowly fell asleep to the rhythm.

Mingi said sweet nothings and comforting things until his voice was directly near my ear without the barrier of the phone.

I felt the ghost of his lips kiss my forehead as he snuggled up behind me to spoon me. "I love you too," he whispered.

When I woke up the next day, Mingi was already gone. All he left was a note on the bedside table.

You look so cute sleeping, I didn't have the heart to wake you up to see me go. If you need me, call Wooyoung this time. I'll pick you up, myself, after your classes.

I bit my lip to stop myself from screaming in excitement. This would be the first time that Mingi has ever offered to pick me up. He hated the public eye, and so he avoided even his own alma mater.

"You said he's going to pick you up, himself, huh?" Yunho smirked as he walked me to the college entrance. "I don't believe it."

I gave him the note that Mingi had left for me that had his distinct penmanship in the morning and showed it to him. "Huh," he huffed in amusement as he gave it back to me. "I wonder what he ate this morning."

"Who made breakfast?" I raised a brow, narrowly avoiding the onslaught of stares that me and Yunho got, especially him. Curse Mingi for hiring attractive people.

"Hongjoong."

"Ah, that probably explains how shitty it tasted."

We both laughed out loud, not caring if we received looks. "What did Mingi say?" I snorted in between laughter.

"Almost shot the poor guy," Yunho replied with difficulty in between his own laughter.

I held onto his arm for support as I imagined my poor boyfriend's face as he put whatever monstrosity Hongjoong had made. Both Seonghwa and Wooyoung were sent somewhere to oversee another transaction, and Mingi didn't trust anyone enough to even bring us a glass of water, so that left the next best thing.

We parted ways when I was near the entrance since Yunho also didn't want to enter the school. He also went here for college, and as a matter of fact, everyone did. They all met here, actually.

"Oof, I'm sorry," I apologized to whoever I had collided with as I was walking.

I was instantly in a glaring match with none other than Hana, who had probably bumped onto me on purpose.

"Another eye candy, Y/N? You never get enough," she smirked as she looked Yunho up and down as he walked away.

"Eat shit and go die in a ditch somewhere, Hana," I sneered, hitting her on the shoulders with mine to make a point. I heard her call me back to give me a piece of her mind, but I ignored her.

I got to my classes with no issues. Luckily, this period - creative writing - was one of my favourites so my mood was lifted instantly. I mean, it's how I was being brought to life in this story.

Soon enough, the professor was assigning everyone in pairs for a short group project that was to be submitted by next week since everyone already had this class once a week.

"Hey, Y/N, I'm so fucking glad I'm partnered with you!"

"Me too, Keeho, urgh, you're the only I tolerate in this school," I rolled my eyes playfully as I jokingly shook his hand while he pulled the chair to sit beside me.

"I'm sorry if that's the case, people are dumb," he offered as consolidation. "People are just jealous. To be fair, your chaperones are all hot as hell, seriously, where do I sign up?"

I laughed out loud at his statement. Keeho had told me he was bisexual before. "Or maybe you're the only one who has a working brain," I chuckled. "Are you okay being seen with me, though? I don't want to damage your reputation."

"Reputation, my ass. That doesn't exist with me," he laughed. "There's a catch, though. I'm not free this week, unfortunately, how do we figure this out?"

"It's fine," I waved off. "My, uh, boyfriend has been working home lately so my place is off-limits as well," I smoothly lied.

It would be difficult to meet Keeho somewhere since the boys would have to tell Mingi what I'm doing. They love me, but their loyalty towards Mingi will always supersede that. It's nothing bad, Mingi was just abnormally jealous and possessive.

I decided to skip my next two classes to focus on the project, but for the most part, I did it so I wouldn't be tempted to kill the crone that was Hana since she was both in those classes with me.

Keeho and I went to the cafe nearby and spent the majority of our time there. When it was starting to get too crowded, we moved to the university library. I've never been partnered with him before, but we both proved to be a good team.

"And that's it," Keeho enthusiastically pressed the 'enter' button of his laptop before he turned it to me.

"Looks good for a one day project," I grinned, raising my hand for him to meet in a fist bump.

When we walked out of the library and towards the parking lot, it was almost empty since classes ended a while ago. "I'll text you the day before we present," I told him.

"Sure thing," Keeho smiled. He looked around and I was confused. "Is your ride here?"

My eyes widened a little when the thought had struck me. Mingi was supposed to be here already. "Ah, he should be here any minute," I said, nervous and hesitant even at my own words. "Maybe there was traffic."

"Alright, I'll wait with you," Keeho waved his hand towards me. "Let's sit on my trunk so we don't have to stand."

"No, I don't want to keep you. Don't you have a date right now?" I appeased him, not wanting to ruin his night just because of me.

"I do, but I'd feel uncomfortable if I just left you here alone," he explained. "My date would understand. I'll just tell him."

"I'll tell you what," he continued right after. "If your ride doesn't come within ten minutes, you should call. Fair?"

I nodded and then we waited. And then we waited some more, but it was becoming increasingly evident that Mingi wasn't going to come soon.

I willed the tears that were forming in my eyes to go away, angrily wiping them off with my palms. Keeho looks at me sadly. He put a hand on my shoulder and just as he was about to say something, my phone rang.

"Hello?" I greeted angrily when I saw the name on the screen. Keeho raised a brow on my hostility.

"I know you're mad, and you have the right to be," Mingi began, his deep voice strained. "I didn't mean to forget, baby, I just got caught up in a lot of shit---"

"It's fine," I cut him off in a clipped tone.

"I'm with Seonghwa right now, I had to break Hongjoong out of jail," Mingi deadpanned, voice extremely pissed. "I am so, so sorry, babygirl."

My eyes widened in visible shock. I was pissed, but on the other hand, I can't get mad too much because this will always be Mingi's priority, and I accept that. I took a deep breath before I said anything.

"Just take care, I'll figure something out," I sighed. "Bonk Hongjoong in the head for me."

I heard a loud smack and a small 'ow!' in the background. "You piece of motherfucking horse shit," I heard Mingi spit out, his voice far away from the phone. "I should just kill you right here..."

I rolled my eyes and put my phone down. I smiled sheepishly at Keeho who was just waiting patiently for me to finish. "Rough night, huh?" Keeho snorted.

"Something like that," I replied. "Say, is it too much for me to ask for a ride home?"

He smiled and got down from the trunk. "Hop in, I'll drive while you talk."

I thanked him multiple times before I did hop in. Mingi wasn't done berating everyone even when Keeho had already started driving to the address I gave him.

"Y/N, where are you?" Mingi growled lowly when he got back. "Are you in a fucking car?"

"Yes, I most certainly am," I smirked. "A friend is taking me home since you're not here."

Mingi scoffed loudly. "Are you serious? I was gonna send Yeosang to pick you up! And your friend, you said?"

"Eh, too late," I put the phone on loudspeaker. "Say hi, Keeho."

"Hello, Y/N's boyfriend!" Keeho chirpily greeted, you know, like a normal person.

I couldn't say the same for my own boyfriend, though. "Are you serious, Y/N?" Mingi growled, still on loudspeaker. "I swear--"

"Bye," I quickly hung up the phone and turned it off. Call it a little revenge for forgetting about me and not even letting me know beforehand.

It's bringing me satisfaction that he's probably going crazy over the fact that I was with another man right now and he can't reach me. But, oh well.

In the wise words of the entirety of Ateez, me and Mingi deserve each other.

"No offense, Y/N, but your boyfriend is hot," Keeho giggled.

I laughed. "I don't want to disappoint you, he's a little rough on the edges."

"Girl. Boys who have voices like that are bound to belong to a hot man," he sassed, making me laugh harder. "Anyway, what does your man do? Your chaperones' cars are damn nice."

I got caught off guard with the question. I knew everyone would notice, but I still wasn't expecting the directness. What I didn't tell was that each member had been using their own cars and Mingi had given them the liberty to do so.

"He's what I would call self-made."

"Oh? Like a big business?"

"You could say that," I laughed nervously.

We stayed silent to bask in whatever peace we had left, at least, that's what the rumbling of my stomach was telling me.

Sooner or later, we reached the house. It took a while since Mingi preferred isolation. At first, Keeho had driven past it, but when I told him he did, he turned back around.

It wasn't that he believed that somebody like me couldn't possibly live in a place like this, it's just that Mingi's lair was abnormally huge and abnormally grand.

"State your name and your purpose," a familiar voice monotoned from the intercom when I had pressed on the familiar button.

"Hey, Jjong. Can you open the gates for me, please?"

"Y/N?" Jongho's surprised voice sounded out. There was a slight pause on his end. "Oh? Is that the friend that Min's bitching about?"

Keeho raised a brow but I just chuckled without any humour. "Jongho, please."

And then we were in. Keeho whistled in awe at how big and vast the gardens were. Mingi had a thing for this aesthetic. There were different arrays of flowering shrubs around us, the most memorable ones being jasmines.

But by far the most luxurious addition was the massive water fountain by the front. We weren't even near the house yet and we could both see it. It was an homage to Mingi's father since all of his was his legacy.

"Holy fucking shit, Y/N. Who the hell is this guy?" Keeho's eyes were wide as he took in his surroundings, his mouth was ajar at the disbelief. "Is he hiring?"

I was about to laugh and say something, but the breath from my lungs got caught and it began to constrict as my heart leapt to my throat when I saw Mingi by the doorway. He stood straight, his legs apart from each other a bit, and his arms were crossed over his chest as he stared at me through the windshield.

He looked relaxed, like he was just outside for some fresh air, but I knew better than that. He was livid - he was so mad that what's usually mistaken as an easy stance was him rigid from so much wrath and undiluted rage.

Keeho gasped when he looked at where my line of sight was. "Who's the hottie?"

I sighed. “That would be the boyfriend.”

He squealed and playfully nudged my shoulder. I internally cursed, if he only knew. Unfortunately, Keeho had reached the front lawn a little too quickly and I had no choice but to get out. But I froze in my seat even after Keeho had already gotten out.

The door opened on my side and I was about to get out, but I jumped back when I realized that it was Mingi who had done it. His head leaned low and had stuck his head inside the car to stare at me.

It was awkward, at least on my end. Mingi was just staring at me. It was the same stare he used for everybody except me, and I never realized how frightening it was until it was directed towards me. I have never seen him this enraged before.

"Let this be a reminder," he began, his voice leveled, quiet. "Of the consequences of your own actions."

His statement had left a bitter taste in my mouth. He cocks his head to the side and I suppressed a yelp as I crawled out of the car with my tail between my legs, if I had one.

"A-Are you mad at me?" I dumbly asked, not knowing what else to say.

"No," Mingi replied. He rotated his head until his neck cracked along with his knuckles. "I'm very fucking mad. I could kill him."

"Would you?" I paled, my knees threatening to buckle underneath me.

"No," he replied once more, but this time, for a second and no longer, his eyes flashed with pain. "Because I love you."

Dreaded shivers travelled down my spine when Mingi changed his expression from fury to like that of a smiling businessman. Before I could say anything, he had begun to walk towards Keeho, who walked away earlier to give me and Mingi a bit of privacy.

"I would like to extend my appreciation for bringing my beloved home," Mingi had his arms wide in a welcoming stance with a grin on his face. "You, Sir, are one brave soul."

I tensed, this voice form of talking was only used when he was Song Mingi, the ruthless Ateez mafioso, and not Mingi, the love of my life.

Keeho was confused for a second, I cringed at the poor guy's attempt to gaslight himself to believe that everything was okay.

I wasn't going to stand by this. I stomped closer to them just in case Mingi did something stupid. Thankfully, he looks like he just wanted to shake Keeho's hand.

"Mingi!" I gasped in horror when Mingi had punched Keeho in the gut when the latter had gotten closer.

Keeho was hunched over in pain while Mingi looked over his shoulder to give me a wolfish grin and a terrifying glare.

"That’s for being with my girl,” he glared. Then, he smiled and patted Keeho's shoulders as he coughed. “Thank you, though.”

He grabbed Keeho’s hair and shoved him roughly. “That’s for approaching a moll.”

My legs ran before my mind could comprehend and I was about to help the poor guy up, but then, Mingi's glare on me intensified and it rendered me frozen.

"M-Mingi?" Keeho's eyes widened as his eyes snapped towards the taller man. A panic stricken look of recognition crossed his face. And Mingi grins sadistically. “S-Sir, I really didn’t know!”

“I know,” Mingi laughed, getting a napkin from his pocket and wiping his hand with it. "It is my right-hand man that you recognize. You do know him, yes?"

Keeho nodded hard, so hard that I was scared his neck would dislodge from his body. "K-Kim Hongjoong, Sir!"

I was surprised. Keeho was in this world. It makes sense, Mingi's presence was rarely seen, if not, never. It was also the reason why Hongjoong had never driven for me or picked me up, he usually sent him in his stead. He wouldn't have recognized either.

I felt betrayed a little, though it is unfounded since no one who is a mafia member would ever admit it anyway.

“You’re lucky I like your father," Mingi crossed his arms again in displeasure. "I would’ve shot you dead by now and I'd have fun doing it."

He leans forward a little, his bulked figure leaving an imposing impression. "However, I am merciful. And you did bring my beloved home safely," Mingi gestures towards the gates. "I'll give you a thirty second heads up to leave, if you're still here by then, I'll instruct my men to shoot."

The poor guy scrambles to get up and runs towards his car, tripping in the process, gets in, and starts it by record time. "Say hi to your father for me, you fucker," Mingi spat.

Without waiting for Keeho to completely disappear out of view, Mingi turned to me and unleashed his demons. “You. Upstairs. Now.”

The command brought an entire army of goosebumps that spread all over my skin, enveloping me in fear and apprehension.

It was just him and I standing face to face, the only thing that could be heard was the rustling of the tree branches that surrounded us and the palpable beating of my heart that increased every minute.

"Mingi, please," I whimpered, my body locking as a fright response to Mingi's darkening mood.

Regret started washing over me as if a bucket of cold, freezing water was poured over me. This was my nightmare incarnate, just like how Mingi was everybody's boogeyman - the thing you're scared of that's living under your bed.

He hummed, deceitfully calm. On surface level, Mingi looked nonchalant; the epitome of grace in the eye of a brewing storm. He looked like he didn't care, but I knew Mingi. I knew that on the inside, he was consumed with so much incandescent rage, he didn't know how to express it with me since this was the first time that that type of anger was directed towards me.

"Follow me," he instructed, and without waiting for me to respond, he briskly turned around to go back inside the house. When he saw that I wasn't moving, he went back and grabbed my hand.

"Mingi, stop it, please, j-just let me talk this out," I pleaded as he started dragging me not harshly, nor roughly, but just enough for me to start walking.

"You have deliberately disobeyed me," his voice was wrapped in gloom, while he said it as a statement, it sounded more like venom. "You do not get to bargain for your case."

He tugs on my hand for me to go faster and it was already starting to get the attention of the others. "Mingi, seriously, you're going a little too far now," I tried to reason out, highly embarrassed that he was dragging me like a rag doll around.

"My little dove," Mingi chuckled darkly, his voice overtaking something I didn't recognize. A yelped when he roughly slammed me against the wall and held my shoulders.

"W-What are you doing?" I stammered.

"You're testing me, Y/N. No amount of begging will stop me when I start with you, I'm telling you," Mingi's voice drops down to a dangerous octave. He smirked as he ran his finger through my hair. "But you like that, don't you? You like it rough."

I whined when he pulled and jerked my head backwards. He leaned until his lips were almost touching my ears. "You either follow me willingly or I will carry you, myself."

I tried to push him back, but he wouldn’t budge. It was like pushing a big metal door. Mingi had always been an extremely possessive and jealous man, however, he has the most self-control out of every man I’ve ever met. These things never usually bothered him.

Between the argument we had a week prior and San going to jail, what little of his self-preservation has dwindled away. Me being in a car with another man was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

”What’s going on?”

We both turned to the source of the voice - Yunho along with a surprised Jongho. Behind them were a couple of people that I didn’t know, but of this life, nonetheless. “Mingi, what on Earth?”

“Get out,” Mingi whispered.

Jongho tried to approach, but was held back by the taller. “Min, I know you’re mad, but please don’t hurt her,” the strong maknae had tried to persuade, but all in vain. “Is it because of the guy earlier?”

”What guy?” Yunho frowned.

Mentioning that was a mistake and everyone could see it.

”Get the fuck out, I said!” Mingi bellowed this time. His outburst came as a surprise to everyone, and it also instilled a type of fear that layered on top of whatever existing fear they already had for him. “Out!”

Yunho had ushered everyone out, but not before looking back and giving Mingi a nasty glare, but the former could care less. I whimpered when Mingi grabbed my arm roughly and dragged me along with him upstairs.

I was hastily shoved in our room, jumping a bit when Mingi slammed the door so hard behind us that I felt the entire house shake. He didn’t say anything, he just began to slowly stalk towards me and I kept backing up until I dropped to the bed.

The adrenaline rush of everything had completely melted off of me, leaving me numb and scared. The way he hovered over me, he looked like a massive predator. All I could was stare at his cold, empty eyes.

“Mingi, I am so sorry,” I spoke first hoping to break the tension between us.

He raised an angry brow. “I don’t recall telling you to speak unless I asked you to.”

I was stunned. It was the last thing I expected him to ever say to me, especially when he was this mad. I lowered my head in shame.

“I made a promise to you back then, Y/N. And I’d rather lose myself than break it,” he began. I held my breath when he grabbed my chin and roughly titled it up so our eyes would meet. “Do you remember?”

I nodded, at least, I tried since his grip was hard. “Everything I do is for you,” he whispered. “I told you I’d please you and protect you. Why is it that you do all these mental gymnastics to literally not do what I tell you?”

Tears had begun streaming down my face at every word he emphasized whilst his hold tightened and he began to shake my head furiously. “You’re fucking lucky that you had befriended the third son of the Yoon family, Y/N.”

“It’s also why no one has dared approach you, while no one may know you’re mine, it’s an open secret that the Yoons are in this world,” he let go of my face, shoving it roughly. “Tell me, Y/N. What goes in your brain whenever you know something will piss me off?”

"I-I’m sorry, please,” I sobbed. “I’m hard-headed I know, but I will do whatever it is that you tell me—-”

"No, you will do it, because you have no fucking choice,” he hissed. He stood away from the bed and began to walk across the room to get something I couldn’t see. “Though, I must admit, I’m not perfect, either.”

"The only difference is,” he continued. “You will be the one paying for it, not me. You can’t just fucking get in another man’s car just because you’re mad, Y/N. Do you have a penchant for dying?”

"I know, Mingi, I know, you’re right, please,” I sniffled, the whole truth spilling out of me.

“No, you don’t,” he snapped. “Because if you did, you wouldn’t have done it. My enemies will do anything to get their filthy claws on the one thing I have ever loved - you. They would do anything to weaken my standing."

"Are you going to tell me all the reasons why I messed up and why I should be subservient to you?"

"No, doll face, I don't believe in should," he came back with a bag, it's content, I have no idea what. "I do believe, however, in showing you the consequences of why you should never do it ever again."

A wave of shame and despair washes over me and I take a deep breath. My mind just goes blank and I hear my heartbeat pump ideas into my head. What was he planning?

"Here's what's going to happen," he said flatly without any emotion, yet firm and absolute. "You are going to take all of your clothes off, turn around, and kneel on the bed, back facing me."

My world stopped then and there. "W-What?"

"You heard me clearly, Y/N. Get to it before I completely lose my patience with you," he deadpanned, his eyes shining with a certain type of sadism I've never seen before.

I did as told, shaking all the way through. I must have blanked out for a moment because the next thing I knew, I felt my wrists being shackled by something cold; something metallic. My jaw dropped, I was pretty sure that Mingi had chained my wrists together behind my back.

"You look so pretty like this," he mumbled from behind me. "Doesn't this remind you of something?"

It did. I gulped loudly, memories flashing through my mind like old films. How could I forget? This was essentially how we met, with Mingi shackling me against my will a year back. It was the same uncertainty, but twice the fear because now, I knew what Mingi was capable of doing.

I began to tremble, especially when I couldn't hear anything from behind me. I was afraid to turn because he would punish me, so I stayed still. The silence was completely overwhelming, I couldn't even hear his own breathing.

I whimpered when big hands were suddenly placed on my shoulders and I felt a hot breath at the back of my neck. I was startled, Mingi still hasn't spoken, and it was killing me not knowing what he was doing.

I felt fingers tracing my skin from the back of my neck slowly all the way down to the lower part of my back, shivers following its wake, and then the same fingers went back up to my neck.

"Close your eyes," I heard Mingi's soft whisper. "And don't open them until I tell you. If you disobey me, I will punish you. I'm not fucking around this time, so don't try me."

I immediately did as told, scared of the consequences. His fingers were back tracing my skin until it concentrated on my neck. The sensation was so overwhelming that I couldn't help but let out a soft moan.

He grabbed my hair firmly, not enough to hurt, to the side to further expose my neck. I felt my body heat up when his lips grazed my collarbone, and for a moment, I lost myself to the dizzying sensation.

Until he bites, and he bites hard.

"Ah! Mingi! I-It hurts!" I screamed, but all that did was make him groan softly against my skin as he bit harder.

I couldn't move, the pain was too much, but all of a sudden, that pain turned into bittersweet pleasure as Mingi sucked the area that he bit into. There was a dull, throbbing pain when he let go and I could already feel a bruise forming.

But he had set me up. When he roughly grabbed my chin to make me look at him, he took my lips in a reeling kiss, but I tried to pull away when he bit my bottom lip so hard, I could taste the familiar metallic taste of my own blood.

I was horrified when he pulled away and stared at me. He had the most sadistic grin I've seen, and his teeth were stained red from my blood. He was getting off on my pain.

All the breath left my lungs when Mingi stuck his tongue out, his saliva that was tinged in red dripping down slowly from his sinful mouth down on my thighs. My eyes dilated, and I clenched around nothing, extremely aroused at the sight. I’ve never felt so horny before.

"Why are your eyes open?” Mingi drawled. I paled at the realization.

He pushed me forward all of a sudden, my ass sticking up in the air. I had to position my face properly because my pose was so compromising. However, that was the last thing in my mind.

I screamed in pain, startled, when the first hit landed on my ass. The chains that bound my wrists felt so hot on my skin when I tried to rub my behind with my hands.

"Stay still,” he ordered, his voice strained.

I screamed some more at the first few hits, but more from shock. For someone so dominant, Mingi was never the type to hit me for sexual gratification. He treated me like fine glass, so the first hits were hesitant.

"Mingi, uh, please,” I whined, not knowing what exactly I was pleading for.

He found his rhythm, his pattern, and he hit me harder, and harder. My throat was starting to wear off from all the screams, the gasps, moaning his name. I could hear him groaning from behind me and it turned me on to no end.

My ass was on fire, but Mingi didn’t care. And neither did I.

“Please, touch me,” I begged him pathetically when he would tease my pussy lips, but he never did touch it.

“I could do this all day,” he grunted. He squeezed my ass cheeks so hard and on top of its already reddened state, it hurt a lot. I grimaced in pain, hissing at the sensation.

He was spanking me long and hard enough for me to realize how pissed he was at me. All that anger and rage he was pouring with every hit. I couldn’t help the weak yelps.

But that only served to turn him on. My pained face spurred his ego and soon enough, I yelped when I heard him groan loudly from above him, my eyes dilating when I saw the crotch of his pants darkening with his release. He just came untouched from his own sadism.

”Fuck,” he hissed in oversensitivity when I moved my head to lick his clothed dick, savouring the taste of his cum seeping from his pants. I could hear him breathe heavily even when he grabbed my hair again, albeit weakly.

He bit his lips when I looked up at him, still licking. An idea popped in my head and I acted on it. With all my strength, I lifted my upper body and planted my face on his crotch. I felt his cock twitch beneath me when I undid the button of his pants and pulled down the zipper with my teeth.

”Fuck, you cockslut,” he groaned as I slowly took his underwear and pants with my teeth before he shimmied out of them. “You’re so hungry for my cock, you can’t even wait until it's out.”

I moaned softly when his cock stood stiff and erect in front of me. Suddenly, he positioned me back where my face was planted on the bed and my ass up in the air again, my hands still tied.

The anticipation was killing me, especially when I heard the distinct rustling of someone looking for something, and in this case, I can only assume it was from that bag that Mingi brought earlier before he decided to tie me up.

”I was going to use this after we got married,” he grumbled from behind me, voice clearly upset. “But this calls for an emergency disciplinary action.”

I couldn’t focus on what he was saying, all I knew was that he was going to punish me in a way he saw fit for his desires.

My eyes widened when I heard a click of a button and something whirs to life, and Mingi realized that I knew and he chuckled as he set the small vibrator aside for now.

I shivered when I felt his hand caress my back, down to the sore parts of my ass. It felt soothing because my ass was on fire. I heard him groan, his voice low, and it sounded so hot.

"You have the prettiest pussy I have ever seen," he whispered. "I don't think you have any idea of the absolute mess you've made me."

The surging desire I felt for Mingi skyrocketed into levels I don't even recognize anymore. "This position is embarrassing," I whined, my admittance coming from my mouth reddening my face.

He hummed and I shrieked, squirming when Mingi lightly pressed on my pussy lips and spread it aside. "You're so full of shit," he scoffed. "You're mine, if I want to make this more embarrassing for you, all I have to do is..."

I made a garbled noise that resembled a dying racoon more than a moan when Mingi licked a stripe up my wet cunt. He stops and stares at me with a devilish smirk. I squirmed some more when I felt his finger slide inside of my snug heat.

I sighed shakily, at first, he gently finger fucked me, my moans spurring him on, but I slowly descended onto madness and that sweet spot close to orgasm when he began to run his tongue on my slit, his face pressing onto me as if I wasn't aroused already.

"Fuck, my precious kitten, you taste fantastic," he groaned, stopping in between his licks to say the dirtiest things to me known to mankind.

The sounds I made in conjunction with Mingi's slurps and low groans were music to both our ears. His fingers continued their onslaught rapidly. He was so rough with it that sometimes I'd feel his fingers on my asshole.

But that turned into something else when he would concentrate for a few seconds on that hole. "M-Mingi, what a-are doing?" I asked nervously. He completely stopped to peer over me.

"Sweetheart," he began, his face shifting into the Mingi I knew and loved. "Do you trust me? I want you to think before you answer."

"More than anything in the world," I answered without hesitation regardless because it was the truth. "I'm all yours, Song Mingi. Use me."

His eyes widen in shock, his grip unconsciously tightening on my hips, and something in him snaps. "Safe word?"

It was my turn to get wide eyed. We have never, ever had the need to use a safe word before. "Pineapples," I murmured. It made sense. I was allergic to them.

I stayed still as Mingi got off the bed and began to completely remove all of his clothes and accessories, especially his rings. "I can't wait to bury my cock in you, princess," I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "Gonna hold you down and fuck your brains out."

I trembled at his words. A sick part of me was excited for this. I twisted my hands in anticipation, the chains bounding them clinking together. Where did he even get this?

I moaned and thrashed when he gripped my hips and his mouth was back in my pussy. However, when his mouth began to travel higher, I didn’t realize it until he was basically lapping at my ass like a starved man. Stars littered my vision, my body leaning forward with the sensation but Mingi held onto me so I wouldn’t fall.

”Mingi!”

My moans rose higher in octave as his tongue swirled expertly at my puckering hole. His fingers began to massage that area around it and the pleasure was out of this world. “Relax, love, can you do that for me?” Mingi whispered.

I nodded, moaning in response. I shivered in excitement, panting and quivering as Mingi stroked me, and soon enough, I felt myself surrendering and relaxing to his touch. He planted soothing kisses across my back, it worked because I felt his finger breaching my hole, sliding in and out for a couple of seconds before it was replaced with something else.

”M-Mingi, fuck, Mingi, that feels so good,” I cried out.

The small bullet vibrator was snug in my ass. There was a small sting but overall, the sensation was indescribable and absolutely delectable. “It feels weird,” I admitted, wiggling my ass to find a bit of relief.

“You’re doing so good, love, fuck, you look so hot,” Mingi groaned lewdly from behind me. “Can I move it?”

”P-Please…”

I whined sensually when he slid the toy out of me very carefully, and I can tell from his movements that he was hesitating if he wanted to plow it roughly in me or if he wanted to take it slow.

I’ve never done anything remotely close to anal and we’ve never talked about it before so this was a pleasant surprise for me. I could tell that he was enjoying this because of the way he moaned behind me as the vibrator went in and out of me. My sexual partners before Mingi never made a sound and it always felt like I was fucking a mute, but Mingi was never ashamed of it and it turned me on so much.

”Y/N,” Mingi called out. I raised a brow. He was also never one to say my name during sex, opting for pet names. I hummed in question. “I’m going to ask you again, do you trust me?”

”Yes, I do, Mingi.”

”Why?”

I wiggled my hands behind my back and he held them tenderly. “Because I love you. It’s really that simple.”

I felt him squeeze my hand tightly before kissing it, then climbing on the bed to position himself behind me. It was essentially a glorified doggy position, but it was arousing, nonetheless.

In one thrust, his cock was inside me. My eyes rolled back in my head as I felt so full, but I screamed when Mingi turned the vibrator on. I reddened` being double penetrated by Mingi’s cock and the vibrator brought a heat inside me that threatened to burn me whole.

“You’ve always been so tight, like you were made for me,” Mingi grunted. “But fuck, my love, you feel so fucking incredible.”

”I-I’m so full, Min,” I stuttered, squeezing my pussy and moaning when I could barely do it because of the fullness.

The pain mixed with the feeling of fullness made me absolutely feral. One rough hair pull started it and Mingi was railing into me hard. I couldn’t even moan out properly - he was using me as if I was a sex toy only made for his pleasure. He was so rough with me like never before.

”If you’re not going to listen to me, I hope my dick sends my message well,” he laughed sadistically at my moans when he pushed the vibrator in my other hole deeper. “Now, do you understand?”

”Y-Yes, fuck! Y-Yes, Mingi, oh God,” I slurred out, feeling my toes curl into themselves at the wild pleasure Mingi was giving me.

The only thing I could do was moan for more. He would alternate between thrusting his cock and the vibrator, each thrust would take my breath away, and I was sure that he had just permanently ruined me for everyone else. Something about being owned like this was exhilarating.

I squeaked when I felt Mingi leaning down, his chest pressing on my back, driving his cock even deeper in my pussy while his one hand held the vibrator in place. “Oh, baby,” he moaned against my ear. “You feel good?”

The only thing I could do was nod. His other hand suddenly grabbed my head and his mouth collided with mine. It was rough, demanding, and more of an act of dominance rather than an actual kiss.

I moaned against his mouth but it went unheard because of his relentless pounding. And then my orgasm came unwarned. I could have sworn I blacked out for a moment and I could tell Mingi was surprised too because I’ve never come untouched before since I got my high off of my clit more than penetration.

”Fuck, you’re going to make me want to come as well,” he growled, his thrusts growing even rougher. I opened my mouth in a silent scream as I took his stuttering thrusts with my never ending orgasm. “Fuck it, open your mouth wider, I want my cum in there…”

I yelped when Mingi pulled his cock out, but my other hole was still plugged and impossibly, I felt another tickle in my tummy that signaled another orgasm that almost made me want to explode. It was beginning to slightly hurt.

“Mingi, I-I’m gonna, ah, t-take it out,” I pleaded, drool coming out of my mouth in desperation.

He positioned is cock in front of my mouth, his face twisted in intense pleasure, as he stroked it. “Keep your mouth open, baby, please,” his own moans were high-pitched. “Let it go, kitten, come for me again.”

I bit my lips so hard that Mingi, in the heat of the moment, grabbed my face harshly and pressed my cheeks to keep my mouth open so he could come inside my mouth. His thick release and borderline animalistic growls triggered another orgasm in me, albeit weaker than the first, but it still sent me to a higher heaven.

I began to slightly choke on his cum and I opened my mouth to try and spit some out, but Mingi suddenly lifted me and put me on top of him as he laid down. He grabbed the back of my head to share an intimate kiss with him.

I was pretty sure I was wet again. The kiss was nasty, it was sticky from all the cum that was dribbling out from both our mouths at this point. I moaned when Mingi broke the kiss for a second to lick some of the cum that trailed down my neck and then kissed me back again so he could push it in my mouth with his tongue.

“I hope I didn’t hurt you,” he mumbled, hands removing the chains from my wrist before he slowly pulled out the vibrator from my ass.

My arms laid limp on his chest, they were raw and red from all the friction, but I didn't care. I whined when he laid me back on the bed and then left. My heart did swell when he came back with a glass of water and a basin so we could both get cleaned up and rinse our mouths.

"You're my pride and joy, have I ever told you that?" Mingi hummed as he blew some smoke away from my direction. Again with the cigarettes.

I surprised him by snatching the cigarette and inhaling, myself. I grabbed his face and he automatically opened his mouth as I blew the smoke in it. I blushed at his smirk, it was so intimate. "I thought you hated the smoke."

"I never said I didn't know how to take it, though."

He chuckled, clearly amused. "Oh, I know you could. In fact, you take it so well."

I swatted his mouth jokingly at his perverted jabs. "You were the one who wanted to do that anal stuff after...."

I trailed off, realizing something. He raised his brows in anticipation. "Married."

"Yeah, but I couldn't wait," he shrugged.

My head grew weary in thought, my skin got cold from the stark realization of what Mingi meant after all the high from the pleasure had gone down. "What do you mean?" I blurted out. "You want to marry me?"

His brows furrowed and his mouth dropped down to a frown in confusion. "Yes, my sweet girl. I thought I made that clear when I gave you that ring?"

My brain short-circuited, but in a positive way. Happiness made its way in my heart, and it was so intense, like a beam of light shining directly onto my soul. I turned to look at Mingi, who was genuinely confused. I couldn't help but laugh out loud, and he looked even more confused.

"You dummy," I kissed his cheeks. "I didn't know that was a proposal."

"Darling, I killed a man for that specific ring," he pinched my cheeks hard mischievously, making me whine. "What more could you possibly want?"

I reeled in the anger that almost soured my mood, but not because of what he said, but because of the thought of my stolen ring. No wonder he was upset when he noticed I wasn't wearing it. I seethed, I was going to make that skank pay for taking what's mine.

"Are you going to say 'no'?" Mingi looked away, his eyes refusing to meet mine. "I'm just saying, you really can't anymore. I refuse."

A sudden flashback reigned itself in my mind. It happened directly after I was accepted as Mingi's woman, right when I was still learning how to operate this world.

"They're all staring at me," I mumbled, squirming on my seat and ever so slightly shifting. "Why are they all staring at me?"

"Let them," San shrugged, lifting his glass and sipping on his dry martini. "Does it bother you?"

We were at the local bar. Mingi had left with Jongho to 'finish some business,' so they say, and San had asked to hang out and talk.

"I know what they're thinking," San smirked, lifting his bruised and bloody hands. "They're probably thinking that I got knocked out of my ass and now I'm hanging out with my boss' girl."

"Well, they should've seen the guy you knocked out," I scoffed. "That's not what it is, though."

"Right. So the point is, you shouldn't give two shits about what other people think, Y/N. They're going to think what they think, and you can't control it."

I looked down, not bothering to take a sip from my own liquor. "Does it get better?" I asked.

"That depends on how you handle yourself," he replied. "It takes a lot of guts and strength to handle one Song Mingi, let alone his empire."

He turned to pat my shoulder. "You're a good person, Y/N. We all can see it," he sighed. "You're the flower in this deserted, barren land."

"Sometimes I think this world isn't for me," I admitted. "I'm not a hypocrite, I do love power."

"Then hold on to it," San smirked in approval. He signaled the bartender to refill his glass. "You know, Mingi isn't like you."

"How so?"

"Because he has nothing to live for, except the life he built for himself, but you," San emphasized by pointing at me. "You have a center. You will be his center. You have the ability to give him what he thought he couldn't have before."

"And you," he continued. "Will do everything in your power to make sure that you have yourself centered so you both don't lose yourselves in the process."

"I-I don't understand," I looked at him in apprehension. "I don't want to pretend that I understand."

"In due time, dear Queen, in due time,” he said cryptically. "He's going to take all of you, when he does, you will have nothing left, and when you choose to leave, the best of him will leave with you."

Shivers travelled up my spine at San's warning. He's giving me an out, if I so damn well please decide if I do want out. "Mingi does love you," he whispered, consoling me. "But I want you to understand that his way of showing his love won't be what you want."

"I think I can manage with that," I nodded my head.

"You're too good for this place," San completely downed the rest of his drink. "You're too good for this world."

I cradled his face in between my hands. My heart felt a little pinch when his eyes shined with vulnerability even though I could see he was trying to hide it.

This was the man who would hand me the world if I asked him right now, all I have to do after is thank him. He’ll burn everything just to see a glimpse of my smile.

"Marry me, Mingi. I don't want to be with anyone else," I smiled, a lone tear escaping my eye.

He leaned in towards me, his lips meeting mine in the sweetest kiss we've ever shared. "I was already your fiancé for months, you just never knew it."

I was a woman on a mission as I stomped my way onto the college halls, slamming door per door, seething in rage while I went on finding my goal.

"Are you looking for something?" Keeho nervously asked when he saw me doing what I was doing. "Listen, about the other day, had I known it was Song Mingi, I would have never offered."

"What are you talking about?" I frowned. "Is he that bad?"

"On the contrary, he's looked up to by everyone, both younger and older, in this, uh, industry," he sheepishly stated as he followed me around. "News was that a girl has significantly calmed him down. My dad sent his regards..."

I laughed, stopping in my tracks to rest a bit. "I would have never let him do anything to you," I sat on the grassy plains of the campus. "I apologize on his behalf."

"N-No!" Keeho shook his hands in fervor. "I completely understand---"

"Calm down," I rolled my eyes playfully. "I would hate it if you treated me differently because of what you know now."

He released a breath he was holding and laughed. "You have leadership qualities," he nudged me lightheartedly. "Anyway, can I help you with what you're looking for?"

I told him everything - the ring that Mingi gave me, how it was taken from me, and how my ring was being flaunted by someone who wasn't meant to have it. Keeho frowned in thought.

"I know Hana, she's been trying to get with another friend of mine," he shivered. "Jongseob told me in passing about that ring, and yeah, she's been flaunting it."

"That little bitch," I muttered under my breath. "That was my proposal ring. I really, really need that back."

He paled. This was big news in this “industry.” Marriage wasn’t taken lightly, and a head marrying meant that all fights would temporarily cease in celebration of that head’s union, enemy or not. "W-What? Does Mingi know?"

I shook my head. "Okay, I'll call Jongseob to see if he can lure her out--"

"No need," I raised a hand to stop him. In the distance, I saw the thief who stole what’s mine quickly approaching us with her cronies who were stupid enough to be associated with the campus skank.

I smirked when they got closer, and I was surprised when Keeho's attitude changed instantly in a protective stance. It reminded me of Yunho and Wooyoung with how aggressive they can get when crossed. I smiled at him in appreciation. I get it, in this world, we protect our own.

"Well, look who it is," Hana giggled with her fake friends. I squinted my eyes at the ring shining snugly on her ring finger. A dark thought crossed my mind as I imagined Mingi proposing to her instead of me.

"Cut the shit, you pathetic worm," I stood back up, dusting my pants for dramatic effect. "I believe that you have something that belongs to me."

She laughed, her shrill giggles making my head hurt. "This one? I don't think so," she smirked, kissing the ring, before pointing at Keeho. "You should ask for one from your new boy toy. He drives a Ferrari, I'm pretty sure he can get you another one."

"Watch your fucking mouth," Keeho hissed in animosity. Hana scoffed, offended.

Our little argument had caught the attention of the other students and they stopped what they were doing to stare. I cursed under my breath, it was the worst time because it was the end of the period and everyone was trying to relax before going home.

I stood up and Hana got closer to me. “I mean I get it,” she said mockingly. She looked at me up and down with a nasty smirk. “Nice ass, Y/N. How much did it cost?”

I saw red then and there. My body wasn’t something I wasn’t proud of and Mingi had made sure I knew how good I looked for a year straight. I wasn’t about to let his efforts go down the drain completely.

Without thought, I charged at her and grabbed her head, pulling it behind. She immediately started screaming in pain. “I’ve swallowed your bullshit for far too long now, you ugly fuck,” I sneered, pulling her head harder and not letting go even when her long claws were scratching me.

“Let me go, you bitch!” Hana screamed, her eyes going wide in panic. I can hear Keeho behind me laughing.

”And for the record,” I slapped my butt for effect. “God gave me this ass for free,” I mockingly looked at hers. “Looks like He gave me your share.”

There were bouts of laughter around us and Hana had the audacity to glare at me. I couldn’t help but laugh, Mingi was definitely rubbing off on me. As I was about to grab her hand and take my ring back, I groaned when I felt my own hair being pulled and then I was shoved to the ground.

When I looked up, it was her cronies that had pushed me away. Keeho tried to help me up, but I shoved him away a little harsher than I intended. I muttered a little apology. “Look,” I started, still pissed. “I just want the ring back, Hana. You can do whatever you want.”

She raised a brow. “What’s so important about this anyway?” Hana sneered, her eyes shining with unspoken greed and the will to make me even madder. “A ring as pretty as this doesn’t belong to you.”

Keeho and I looked at each other with a ‘is-this-bitch-serious’ expression’. I sighed, reeling in the anger that threatened to actually end her. I was done not involving Mingi. Consequences be damned.

”It has value to me, though you wouldn’t understand,” I spat, to which she scoffed. “I’ll give two options - I'm going to tell the Dean everything you've done and have both you and your cronies expelled.”

I was dead serious. The Dean was her father and he had no idea about his daughter’s debauchery. “And two - I'm going to call my husband, because he gave it to me. He’s not a nice man, and I can assure you, he will rip you piece by piece with his bare fucking hands”

I don’t know what possessed me to refer to Mingi as my husband, but man, that actually felt good and the term felt nice rolling off of my tongue. It was so ridiculous, and clearly, I'm not the only one who thought so.

"Husband?" Hana laughed. "Who in their right mind would marry you? And have you this so-called husband of yours all of your sugar daddies?"

My temper got the best of me and I charged impulsively. “You should get tested for gonorrhea, you whiny little bitch,” I gritted my teeth.

I gasped when I felt a sharp slap hit my face. The force of it was hard and it made my head turn. I cursed when I felt my lip split open. It was commendable, if it wasn't so disrespectful. When I turned to look back at Hana, even she was surprised at her own strength.

"Oh, fuck, he's going to kill me," Keeho panicked beside me as he tried to dab the blood of with a cloth that I had no idea where it was from. "A-Are you okay?"

"Fine, fine," I snorted, spitting on the ground before I glared at Hana. "You're going to pay for this."

It was an all out brawl, or rather, cat fight between me and Hana, but more so me taking out all my anger at her. It had caught the attention of everyone by now and they had gathered all around us in a circle as if we were in a fighting ring.

I could hear people around us trying to stop us and break us apart - thank God this wasn't high school anymore - and I got distracted. I fell to the ground on my butt with a small yelp. I heaved small, but hard breaths as I looked up and glared at Hana, who was hovering over me, with all her might.

I smirked and I could tell it pissed her off. She was never going to see the satisfaction of seeing me defeated, but I, on the other hand, smirked victoriously at her disheveled state.

"I hate you, you know?" Hana seethed, her true colours showing. "That top spot in the scholarship program should have been mine. You think you're hot shit just because you have these men hovering over you like flies?"

I was surprised. So that's what it was. I was part of a scholarship program that was sought out in the university and Hana had landed on the second spot directly below mine. It wasn't even bad, she was just greedy.

I closed my eyes as Hana braced her fists up in the air to presumably give me a nasty punch, and I waited and waited, but the hard blow I was expecting never came.

"W-Who are you?!" I heard Hana exclaim.

I opened my eyes in distraught and I felt myself being helped up from the ground by hands that held my arm. "Y-Yeo?" I whispered when I turned around to see who helped me. "What...?"

I was so confused, and then I remembered that I was supposed to be at the front gates a while back. Whoever was picking me up must've panicked when they didn't see me.

I looked around to see what was happening and I couldn't help but cover my mouth in surprise. I prided myself in being strong, but I felt myself tearing up when I saw the man I fought so hard for to get the symbol of his love back.

Mingi had let go of Hana's fist to turn to me in worry. I quickly rushed and he enveloped me in a strong hug. "It's okay, love, I'm here," he whispered before tenderly kissing me on the forehead.

When I looked around, I could tell that everyone was stunned by Mingi's appearance. It wasn't his fault, he naturally caught everyone's attention wherever we went. He had this imposing shadow around him that intimidated everyone, but that was what made me love him even more.

"W-What are you doing here?" I blurted out, arms wrapped around him.

He smirked, pulling me closer. "I told you I'd pick you up one of these days," he coolly looked around everyone who stared. "Wasn't expecting this though."

He turned his attention to Hana, who I've never seen mesmerized in my entire time unfortunately knowing her. I smirked as we stared at each other. Mingi was exactly her type, I could tell how bitter it was making her.

"Excuse me," she cleared her throat. "You're with her?"

Mingi raised a brow, amused, with one eye ticking, annoyed. "I don't see why that's a problem," he replied, uninterested.

I could see the gears in her brain going on overdrive. "You're making a mistake," she bargains, a small smirk on her face. "Y/N has multiple men around her, you shouldn't waste your time on her."

"And who should I waste it on?" Mingi challenged, his voice going an octave deeper. "You?"

Hana reddened in embarrassment. When I looked around, I noticed that all the students that had gathered around us had disappeared. It was just Hana and her followers. Before I could question it, Yeosang quickly appeared with Jongho and Wooyoung.

"We cleared them out," Yeosang said. "Paid them a little extra to keep their mouths shut too."

"That's them!" Hana exclaimed, pointing at a confused Wooyoung. "They're the men she's around sometimes!"

Realization dawns on everyone, but Mingi wasn't having it. “What the fuck is this bitch talking about?” Mingi sighed in irritation. He turned to me. "Little peach?"

"She thinks they're my sugar daddies," I rolled my eyes, giggling in all the stupidity.

Mingi hummed, and turned to Hana. "You never seen chaperones before?"

Hana's eyes widened in embarrassment, but we weren't done. "Wait a minute," Wooyoung frowned, taking a closer look at her. "I know you, you asked for my number at the other department."

"I-I didn't know," she whispered in shame. The look in her eyes was laughable, she screwed up and she knows it.

"Ah," Jongho laughed. “She never liked you, Woo. Just wanted to ‘steal’ what was Y/N’s,” he patted Wooyoung's shoulder before turning to me. "I'm sorry this was happening under our noses, Y/N. I swear we didn't know."

I shook my head at them, covertly telling them that it was okay. I started pulling on Mingi's sleeves and signaling that I wanted to leave. I just wanted to go home and all this mess wasn't worth it, but Mingi just wanted the last laugh.

He let go of me and proceeded to go to Hana. She screamed in pain when he began to twist her arm and then proceeded to take the ring off of her finger before he slammed her on the floor.

"You really shouldn't steal," he mocked her before turning to the others. "You three, trash her car and make sure she's expelled by tomorrow."

Wooyoung held my arms and I started to walk away while Mingi stayed behind to tell Hana more choice words. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but Hana started to sob incessantly on the ground. I couldn’t even say I feel bad for her, rather, I felt satisfaction.

I didn't pay her any mind and just walked away with Wooyoung until we had reached the car. Mingi immediately followed after and we started driving away. It was such childish games, but I didn't realize how much of a toll all of this had taken on me.

Mingi didn't say anything as he started driving, and he drove for a while. I smiled in appreciation as I stared out the window and onto the passing city. I knew what he was doing, he knew that I loved to drive to clear my head and whatever was worrying me.

A trickle of shame dropped onto all my resolve. I should have gone to him before it got too far, if I did, none of this fiasco would have happened.

"How much do you know?" I asked all of a sudden, breaking the comfortable silence around us. "Please tell me the truth."

Mingi doesn't respond for a while, just staring at me once in a while with that look of his that I couldn't read, and I patiently waited until he wanted to talk. He might be mad at me.

"Everything," he said after a while. "The rumours, the bullying, the ring, I knew everything."

I wanted to be surprised, but I couldn't. Everybody did warn me about that one thing, but I chose not to listen - Mingi knows everything.

"Why didn't you say anything?" I frowned, fiddling with my seatbelt in nervousness. "Are you mad?"

He sighed, reaching out to hold my hand tightly while his other hand still held the steering wheel. "Believe or not," he started, his deep voice surrounding me in a comfortable cocoon. "I do want you to be your own person. This is your life and I'm just a part of it."

All the breath from lungs left me, his words suddenly becoming the oxygen I needed to live. I wanted to choke from all the emotions that were clawing up my throat, but let him continue.

"I wanted to see how you handled it," he explained gently with one squeeze of my hand. "The only time I would have gotten involved is if you had told me. I wouldn't have made a move unless you did, my queen."

"So when you asked about the ring...?" I trailed off, waiting for what he was about to say.

"I knew even before you got home that day," he admitted. "Don't blame the boys, they were just looking out for your best interest."

I sighed in relief, laughing at how ridiculous all this had been. All that time they were warning, it wasn't so I wouldn't keep a secret, they were warning me that Mingi had already known anyway and there was no point.

"Are you saying that you would have been okay if I solved everything myself and never told you?" I asked nervously.

"Are you asking me to be okay with it?"

"I want to know what my future husband thinks," I admitted shyly, looking out the window so I wouldn't see his expression.

"Then the answer is yes," Mingi said. "Your happiness has been the most important thing to me ever since I met you, my dearest love."

I could have cried tears of joy. Why did I ever doubt all his love and pure intentions with me? He's not perfect and neither was I. We both had bouts of toxicity between us, but we had always made it work, didn't we?

"I'm sorry," he kissed my hand. "I'm very sorry."

I was confused. "For what?"

"That you thought you couldn't come to me," he whispered. It rang loud in my ear regardless. "That you thought you'd be in trouble or that I'd get mad at you for it."

He turned to me, his eyes shining with sincerity, his heart on his sleeve as he was about to pour his emotions to me. "I'm the one safe person you can always turn to, Y/N, the love of my life," he kissed my hand again but this time, his lips lingered a bit longer. "It breaks my heart that I didn't do well enough for you to know that."

"I know it now," a tear fell from my eyes. And then multiple of them followed. "And now is all that matters."

"Don't cry now, precious," he tried to lighten the mood, wiping my tears away with his free hand. "You're going to ruin that pretty face."

"You can't just say things like that," I sniffled, smiling through my tears anyway. "I-I have nothing to offer you, baby, I'm just an orphan you picked from the streets, I have no proper guidance on how to do this."

I have no idea where all my insecurity was coming from, but it was there. "No," Mingi whispered. "You can give me everything."

He swiveled the car in a random park we passed on and he parked at a spot where we could see the sunset clearly. He took his seatbelt off and started rummaging through his pockets.

"Let's do this again, okay?" Mingi smiled as he lifted the ring he gave me before, but this time, he took out another ring I'd never seen before.

My tears started falling downwards at a faster rate as Mingi took my hand in his. "Look, I'm not going to pretend I'm good with this," he started, making me snort. "I love you and you're the only thing I want, nothing more. Would you spare me the torment of being without you and marry me?"

I looked in awe when he connected the alexandrite ring with the other ring so there were two rings in one before he put it on my finger. "I'll think about it," I said.

His eyes widened in surprise, but before he could protest, I laughed out loud, definitely not lady like, and pulled his face to mine so I could kiss him deeply.

"If you do that again, I'm going to tie you up even tighter next time," he bit my bottom lip gently.

"Wow, I'm so scared," I giggled after we both pulled away. "So, what now?"

"I was thinking of where to send you to another university earlier," he shrugged. "To avoid all the bullshit earlier. That is, if you want to."

"Yeah, what happened to keeping a low profile?" I teased him. I bit my lip before I continued. "I was thinking of doing the rest of my semester online."

Mingi grinned, his happiness evident. He's been begging me to do online schooling from the start because by being home, he doesn't have to worry about me as much since even if he's not home, there will be others to watch me. But other than that...

I giggled, ticklish as Mingi buried his head on my neck as he planted little kisses on them. "Picture this," he grinned. "I'd be inside you while you're in one of your classes..."

I pushed him away jokingly. "You wish!"

EPILOGUE:

Black and red spots started to dance in my vision. I was rendered temporarily blind in my rage. The person in front of me didn't even want to meet my eye.

"What did you say?" I whispered menacingly, not bothering to raise my voice. "Does Mingi know?"

Beads of sweat started to drip from his forehead all the way down his chin from how hard I was glaring at him. "No," he admitted. "Not yet."

I scoffed in disbelief, but he wasn't done yet. "Please, my queen--"

"Don't call me that," I snapped. "Damn it, Myungsoo. I was there when Mingi took you in, this is the least you can do. So far the last time, what did you do?"

I raised an unamused brow when he joined his hands together in a pleading manner. "I-I didn't mean to," he cried. I rolled my eyes. "T-They offered me a lot---"

"How much?"

He hesitated. "Twice the amount."

I sneered, nodding in mock understanding as I pressed my tongue on the inside of my cheek. I shook my head at him. "You pathetic fool," I whispered, looking him directly in the eye. "You selfish piece of shit."

He began sobbing right there and then. It pissed me off so much and I wasn't about to let his crocodile tears affect me. "You sold us out, Myungsoo. Where do you get the nerve?" For what? Money you and I are sure Mingi could easily double? You know what, come here..."

Without much thought, I grabbed the collar of shirt and pulled him to me harshly, and when that didn't satiate my anger, I decided to grab his hair and started to drag him across the halls of the house.

He started kicking and screaming as he was forced to follow me, but not daring to grab onto my hands because it was a lose-lose situation for him anyway - if he did that, he'd lose his hand to Mingi anyway.

The commotion had caught onto the others and everyone only had two expressions - either their jaws were dropped or their eyes were widened, there was no in between.

"What in the hell is going on?" Seonghwa's form had stopped in front of me. He looked so confused. "Myungsoo?"

"Hwa, with all due respect," I gritted my teeth. "Get out of my way. Have you talked to Yunho and Jongho yet?"

"No, wh---"

"Hey, you motherfucker, I was looking for you!"

We both turned to the source of the voice and if you really speak of the Devil, and he shall really appear. Yunho's malicious sneer was directed to a shaking Myungsoo. Jongho had the liberty to kick the asshole on the rib.

“I see he told you,” Jongho smirked. “You should lay down, though. This isn’t good for you,” he turned away. "Come, I'll tell you what this cunt did," he motioned for Seonghwa.

Someone held my shoulders in worry and I looked up to see who it was and smirked. "Want to have a piece of this dogshit, Joong?" I pulled on Myungsoo's head and he whined in pain.

"Nah, I wouldn't want to get my hands dirty. And you shouldn't stress yourself out either, your body needs a lot of energy," he smirked. He motioned to another person behind me and waved for them to come closer. "Hey, Yeosang, come get a load of this!"

The handsome man frowned, but walked over in curiosity anyway. "Y/N, what are you doing up? You shouldn't be here, let alone drag this piece of shit right here."

I rolled my eyes. "Guys, stop treating me like I'm going to break."

"No, but Mingi will have all of our heads if you get stressed high-time," Yunho deadpanned as he motioned for Yeosang this time.

He got debriefed real quick and he smirked, crossing his arms. "I knew it," he scoffed, leaning down to glare at our victim. He raised his hand. "Pay up, fuckers."

I raised my brow in fascination as everybody grumbled and handed a triumphant Yeosang some cash. I looked at him in question and he started laughing. "I had a slimy feeling with this one," he shrugged, his eyes glinting with malice. "Made a bet that he'll fold within six months."

I didn't wait for that fiasco to finish and had resumed my dragging business before they started beating each other up.

"P-Please, you're hurting me---"

"Shut it."

Finally, we reached the door I knew Mingi would be in. I cursed under my breath when I listened in and I heard multiple voices inside, which would mean that he was in a meeting. But this couldn't wait.

I busted through the door with determination and fire in my eyes, with a sobbing Myungsoo behind me as my hand had tightened its grip on his hair. Honestly, a huge part of me wished that he'd resist so I'd have a reason to rip all of his hair out.

"Argh, let go!" Myungsoo groaned. I scoffed and complied and he had the audacity to look offended when he got slammed on the floor.

"Tell him, you little fuck," I seethed in pure anger, pointing at nowhere in particular. "Tell him what you did!"

Inside the room were multiple people in dashing outfits to impress and they were all huddled in the middle as they all sat on the round table where Mingi usually held important meetings.

Each of Mingi's guests looked at us in a mix of amusement, horror, and curiosity. There was no in between. Most of all, they took a long, hard look at me and gasped at what they saw. They all looked at me before they all turned to look at the very end of the table.

I saw San approaching me with a very concerned look. "Is everything okay, Y/N? You look pale," he whispered so only the two of us could hear.

He, then, turned to Myungsoo and smirked. "I don't know what he did, but damn, girl. You got guts to bring him in here like this."

I harrumphed, unamused. I grabbed Myungsoo's hair so his head would snap upright. I wasn't oblivious to the murmurs that started to sound all over the room, but I wasn't interested in that.

My eyes roamed to take in the scene I had barged onto. San had gone back to his seat, which was directly in front of Wooyoung, who looked dead serious at the far end of the table. He looked just as intimidating as Mingi and San. I stared at the notes that were sprawled in front of him from where he stood. He must’ve been in the middle of something when I barged in.

But I had another goal in mind. I set my eyes at the end of the table where most of the time, all the heads of anything that remotely resembled a group would sit down. Mingi had no particular expression on his face. He stared blankly at me with his arms crossed. If I didn’t know him, I would have folded. Mingi’s specialty and a big part of why he was feared was his utmost control of his expressions. I don’t know what he’s thinking.

"Gentlemen," Mingi stood up slowly. I couldn't help but be in awe of his movements, he looked very regal, like a prince. "We shall continue this meeting soon," he gestured to Wooyoung. "If you would please, Jung."

"Terribly sorry about this," Wooyoung put on his best fake smile, or rather, sneer as he began to gesture to the guests to leave the room.

"You might be head, but this is a disrespectful move," one of the people seated exclaimed. "You should put a tight leash on your woman."

Mingi's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. It would have gone unnoticed if you didn't know his mannerisms. "Patience is an attribute I lack," he clicked his tongue, chuckling darkly. "I suggest you all leave now. San, stay."

"You heard him," Wooyoung snarled, not bothering to keep up the diplomatic act. "Move."

One by one, everyone piled in to get out of the room, but not before giving me one last dirty look, which I didn't hesitate to return back. I got looks of surprise and I smirked, Mingi was definitely rubbing off on me. I was told our glares looked similar. That or my hormones.

"Wait," Mingi said, making everyone halt in their steps. He signaled for San, who lifted a cigarette pack so Mingi could get one and light it up. "That's Mrs. Song for all of you," he blew the smoke rather harshly. "You do realize that you just disrespected my wife in front of me?"

The man who had indirectly insulted me visibly paled and I scoffed loudly. What a dumbass. "Wooyoung," he called out. "Give him hell. The rest, out."

Wooyoung patted me on the shoulder once, winking not-so-subtly behind the evil glint in his eyes. "I’ll take care of this pig for you. Nobody insults you in front of me. Go rest, my queen, you shouldn't be up," he reminded me before he shut the door behind him. I chuckled, he looked so excited. I suppose life has been dull for him lately.

"Now, what do you have to tell me?" Mingi stalked towards my direction and raised a brow at Myungsoo's state. "What did you do?"

When he wasn't responding, I let go of his hair to push him around. "Say something, you fucking coward," I spat.

"Love, calm down. I don't want you stressed. Hey, look at me," Mingi stopped me, pulling on my arm to engulf me in a hug. I felt myself calm down immediately. "That bad?"

He turned his head to look at San, who raised his hands up. "I don't know either," he defended himself. “But whatever it is, may I suggest the maximum penalty?”

Mingi extinguished the cigarette on the tray and threw it away before he got close to me. He gave San an expectant look. God, even that looked intimidating. “Keep going.”

“Well,” San walked in circles, a terrified Myungsoo in the middle. “Look at your wife, and then look at this swamp donkey,” he sneered before hitting the back of his head. “It’s gotta be bad, Min.”

Mingi still held no expression, but he nodded, indicating that he was listening. He took off his coat and shirt right in front me - to this day, the sight of his bare chest still makes me blush - and then wore a spare shirt he kept at bay before he completely approached me.

I couldn't help but smile. I’ve been hating the smell of cigarettes lately and I appreciate the steps he’s doing to help out even though he can’t completely stop using it. There was still a faint smokey smell, but it was bearable.

Mingi gave me a soft kiss before he held my shoulders and squeezed a little. "Me and San will take it from here, okay?" I frowned when Mingi picked up Myungsoo with one hand. "Why don't you wait in our room, hmm?"

That was a subtle way of saying that he wanted me out of here so he can do whatever it is that he wanted violently without me watching. I nodded and began to walk out, but not before giving the most venomous glare and bitter warning.

"I want him out of here," I growled, my form visibly shaking from anger. "When you're done, come find me."

And with that I turned around, exited, shut the door behind me with a bang, and leaned on it for a minute to catch my breath.

I heard a slap from the inside and a groan of pain. "What the fuck did you do?" Mingi's raging growl sounded, muffled by the door. "By God, even I've never seen her this mad, what the fuck did you do? San."

More grunts and the familiar sound of fists hitting bare flesh resounded from where I was, with San's taunting voice and laughter filled the air as he went at it with the violence I could only hear, but couldn't see.

"Tell me," I heard Mingi's smooth voice, the calmness of it always brought me shivers. "What did you do for the one person who barely gets involved in our line of work to be that angry and scared?"

My heart swelled inside my chest. He had barely looked at me, yet he knew that aside from the rage, I was acting out of fear. I was terrified that the enemy would launch a surprise attack on us, or worse, the authorities on our tails.

All because that twat had sold us out. It made my blood boil. There was no response to be heard, and Mingi hated that.

I jumped from where I was when I heard the distinct sound of glass getting smashed, and then Mingi's angry voice. "What the fuck did you to me to make my wife that scared?"

It was my queue to leave. I ran to our room, not bothering to give everyone an explanation because sooner or later, the news of Myungsoo's betrayal will reach everyone's ears anyway; of how he told the enemy crucial information for a sum of money.

Pathetic.

It wasn't enough to dent Ateez's reputation, but it spooked me enough to get angry. It was vital information of Mingi's personal life, something he barely shared even with me, yet that cocksucker had divulged it so easily. So yeah, I was pissed.

One good thing that came out of it was Mingi's referral to me as his wife. Not that we hid it, he was just very private, is all. We got married a couple of months back in a private ceremony with just his closest friends - Ateez - and his family. I had the pleasure of meeting his parents and his older brother as well.

It just made me extremely giddy and happy whenever I heard him say it.

Not even thirty minutes after I left, the door opened and in came Mingi. I frowned when he got closer, his knuckles were bleeding profusely. I winced, but I understood where his anger was coming from. Hell, I wasn't any better dragging the man with his hair.

"Did you kill him?" I callously asked as I rolled around from the bed.

Mingi got a cloth and pressed it on his hand. He glanced at me with raised brows. "Should I have?"

"No," I shook my head, getting up and pressing the cloth to his injured skin, myself. "Let the enemies have him. Don't waste your energy."

“Would that make you happy?”

I smiled. Even in his haze of anger, he still thought of me. We’ve definitely come a long way. “Yes.”

“Then it’s settled,” he smirked. Mingi stared at me through lidded eyes before he tilted my chin up with his free hand and gave me a short, but sweet kiss. He had a smirk on his face as he looked at me tenderly, like his whole world revolved around me.

"How are you feeling?" Mingi murmured, worry evident on his face.

I shrugged. "Fine," I said truthfully to appease him. "I'm not really feeling sick anymore, which is good."

"Would you like to eat something? A craving, perhaps?"

"You."

We both laughed out loud with Mingi caught off guard with my blatantly terrible flirting skills. "But seriously, I'm good. What about you? What are you thinking?"

"Is it wrong for me to say that I'm proud of you?" Mingi murmured, his fingers caressing my face gently. "As much as it saddens me that you're so deep in this, I'm happy nonetheless."

I kissed his bloody knuckles and a shudder ran through his body at my gesture. "Did I go out of line earlier?" I sighed. "I didn't mean to, I got carried away."

"No. You're my wife, you can do whatever you want," he smiled, the crescents of his eyes looking so cute that I couldn't help but coo. "But seriously, that was so hot. The way you just barged in. You're acting like a true mafia queen."

I giggled, lifting my hand to stare at my wedding ring and then at Mingi's matching ring. "I am, aren't I?"

For a moment none of us said anything, just basking on the moment; the now. It felt good how tough he was on the outside, but when we were alone, he was just Mingi. Not the notorious Song Mingi who built his empire from scratch, he was just my Mingi. He was divine, I really wasn’t sure how to say it other than it was very easy to fall for him.

“They’re right, you know,” he murmured. “You should get some rest.”

I playfully swatted his chest. “I know. I just couldn’t help it earlier, but I don’t regret it,” I smiled, my hand traveling to my bulging belly. “But we’re fine, nothing to worry about. All of you are so overprotective though, it’s getting on my nerves.”

He laughed, his deep voice booming all over the room. “You can’t really blame all of us, my princess,” he smiled, his hand also rubbing affectionately on my swollen belly. “Another thing to be proud of, love. You’re going to be a good mother.”

Worry etched itself on my face and Mingi could feel my distress. “I’m scared,” I admitted. “Are you?”

“Of course I am,” he chuckled, giving me a quick peck on the cheek. “This is the one thing we don’t really get trained on, angel. But we’re in this together, yeah? The boys already love our baby.”

I can already imagine the rest of them spoiling the shit out of our unborn child. Hongjoong would pretend he’s strict, but on the inside, he’ll love the kid the most. Seonghwa would offer to babysit a lot, I’d definitely need him the most out of everybody because of his mother hen qualities.

Yeosang would be clueless, but he’d have Yunho with him who is equally clueless. San would be that one uncle that teaches the kid naughty stuff, while Wooyoung would be the partner-in-crime with all of the pranks. Jongho would be the cool uncle who would give anything and everything to the child once he gets the puppy eyes.

Mingi would be the man who comes alive when he’s with our child, and he’ll do it because he’ll have so much love to give. He might be the villain in everyone’s story, but he’ll be the hero that every child would deserve to have.

“I just hope I’m doing right by you,” I chuckled. “I really don’t know if I’m doing the right thing over here, baby. ”

He grinned before he kneeled down to my stomach level. I couldn't help the infectious grin that also painted my face as he caressed my tummy and gave it a small kiss. "You already are."

He gazed up at me. The look in his eyes, it will forever be etched in my mind for as long as I live. Never will I forget that night we met, it was the longest night of my life. Never would I forget the moments where I no longer belonged to myself, it was a bitter pill to swallow, but I'll also never forget the day I accepted it.

But most of all, I won't ever forget the best thing I'd ever gotten out of all of this - our son.

Dividers from: @cafekitsune ❤️❤️

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weasleyreidstyles · 11 months ago

Text

Serendipity

chapter five

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): mentions of drugs/weed but only minor, its an angsty one folks!!

series masterlist; previous part; next part

Madame Pomfrey had the house elves bring up food for you and the other occupants of the Hospital Wing when dinner time rolled around later that day. You enjoyed a plate full of roast chicken, potatoes and mash before the plate was magically vanished upon you finishing it before the matron came to check on you again.

Some time after that, the doors to the Hospital Wing are pushed open with an echoing creak but you didn't look up from your book to see who it was until your copy of Pride & Prejudice was plucked right out of your hands.

"Hey!" you protest, going to grab the book back from Mattheo Riddle's grasp. "Oh it's you."

"You sound so happy to see me." he teases as he sits on the edge of your bed. You stare from the fabric of the bed sheets to where he's sitting with raised brows.

"There's a perfectly good seat right next to you." you grumble as he enters your personal space.

"The seats are uncomfortable, I'd rather not sit on them again after I spent a good hour waiting for you to wake up earlier." he replied, forcing you to move over so that he could fit properly on the bed next to you.

"You stayed?" you asked incredulously. "Why?"

"You passed out the second we all saw Bell on the bed. I was worried. Sue me."

"Awh you care about me." you cooed, jokingly patting his knee before rolling your eyes.

He picked up the book that he had taken from you and flipped it around cover to cover, reading the blurb and scrunching his face up. "What's your book about? I don't understand it."

As you begin to explain Elizabeth Bennett's intricate and turbulent relationship with Mr. Darcy with fervour, Mattheo can't help but stare at you with eyes full of admiration and...something else.

Some time later, the dreaded conversation ended up coming around. You tell him how odd it felt when you saw the necklace; how your weird intuition seemed to carry over to the Hospital Wing when you saw Katie; to Dumbledore's cryptic visit.

"Dumbledore spoke to you?" he asked, curiously.

"Well at first he complimented my Occlimency abilities. Thank you by the way." you start. "But then he asked me about what happened when Katie was cursed."

Mattheo listened as you talked, nodding his head to show that he was paying attention.

"...and then he asked me to tell him what I felt when I touched a ring that he had in his possession."

"A ring?" A look crosses Mattheo's face, but it's gone in an instant.

"The magic was similar to the necklace, but different at the same time." you continue, picturing the Riddle insignia in your mind. "Dumbledore's hand is the way it is because of it."

You didn't know whether you should tell him about what Dumbledore said about Professor Slughorn, that seemed like something Dumbledore would want to be kept under wraps.

"He didn't really give me a solid answer, but he gave me sound career advice." you say with a huff.

"What happened when he gave you the ring?"

"Same thing that happened when I touched Katie. It burned me. But my magic was surrounding the ring this time. It felt...odd."

"Huh." He's quiet for a moment before he changes the subject once more.

"Your friends spoke to Professor Mcgonagall and Professor Snape earlier, after you fainted." he said. "Potter thinks it was Draco that cursed her. Accused him right in front of them."

"Did he do it? Malfoy?" you interject, Harry's theories had become more consistent over the last few weeks, and you weren't surprised to hear that he had suspected that Malfoy was behind this, despite ludicrous the allegations were.

"He had detention with Mcgonagall today. Didn't show up to transfiguration remember? He was pretty pissed off about missing the first Hogsmeade weekend." he says and you recall the detention being issued a few days ago when Malfoy appeared in the doorway of the Transfiguration classroom a quarter of an hour late.

"Right. Yeah." you say tiredly, somewhat unconvinced but you push the feeling aside when he begins to stand.

"Where are you going?" you say with a yawn, reaching for his left forearm. He winces but you don't catch it in your tired state.

"You're getting tired, and it's almost curfew. I need to get back to my common room so I don't risk getting a detention."

"Pansy's patrolling tonight. You'll be fine." you say, dragging him to sit down. "Stay a little longer. At least until I fall asleep. Please?"

The way you looked at him with your big, tired eyes caused him to falter.

"You don't really want me to stay, Princess." he murmured but he didn't move to stand again.

"I hate when you call me that." you say. "I wouldn't have asked otherwise, Mattheo. I don't want to fall asleep alone in here."

"Alright, move over then." his resolve crumbles and he moves to lie down behind you, using an arm around your waist to drag your body closer to his, his body heat warming you from the inside.

It takes you no time at all to fall asleep in his embrace, feeling the most comfortable you'd ever felt in your entire life. In your sleepy haze, you swore you felt him kiss the side of your temple, murmuring into your soft skin.

"Good night, sweetheart." he had whispered, before he fell asleep shortly after you.

~∞~

The week following his visit to the Hospital Wing, your interactions with Mattheo were few and far between.

Your lessons had dwindled after he had first started skipping out on you, but now he seemed hellbent on avoiding you altogether.

He had once again skipped your Ancient Runes lesson that week and Theo proved to be of little help when he refused to tell you where his best friend was. Pansy seemed to be growing increasingly agitated by her two friends over the course of the time Mattheo was ignoring you.

"For Salazar's sake, Teddy. Mattheo's just been a little busy this week." she said. "No need to worry. I think he's been doing extra Potions work."

"Do you know where he is now?" you ask your friend with pleading eyes.

Like Theo, she seemed reluctant to give you the boy's location, as if they knew something that you weren't supposed to know, but in the end they shared a look and relented.

"He's in the Room of Requirement." Teddy says, before his hands gently grip your shoulders. "But we never told you, okay. I don't want to die a premature death, tesoro."

"Thank you. I won't tell him you helped, don't worry Teddy." you reassured him before walking down the corridor and towards the system of staircases that would take you to the seventh floor.

Due to the interval between lessons ending and new ones beginning, it seemed to take you ages to get from point A to B, with everyone lingering in or rushing through the corridors but when you got to the familiar wall, you waited.

I need to see Mattheo.

I need to-

The door began materialising in front of your eyes, reminiscent of the late evenings that you'd come here with your friends for DA meetings before Umbridge and the Inquisitorial Squad had it disbanded. Your hand still had that prominent scar from the two weeks of detention you had each received: I must not disobey the Ministry.

When the door was fully formed, you twisted the handle and slipped through.

The room appeared to be huge and full to the brim with piles upon piles of junk. It was going to take you forever to find him, but you knew he was in there somewhere.

You started down a pathway that had appeared between some old arm chairs and bookshelves and followed where your gut was telling you to go.

It was quiet, too quiet and you were about to give up hope when you saw Mattheo lounging on a dark velvet chaise lounge, a blunt hanging in his lips, something shiny resting in his lap that looked an awful lot like a tiara, which he vanished away when he saw you.

"So this is what you do in your spare time?" you ask, hesitantly sitting at the edge of the chaise lounge, by his feet.

He only sighed as he took another hit of the blunt, leaving you to carry on speaking without a reply.

"How'd you even get that into the school? It's more illegal for wizards to get their hands on than muggles." you turn your head to face him only to find him staring straight ahead, avoiding your gaze altogether.

You huffed before you stood up and rounded the chaise to stand directly in front of him; he continued to stare in the opposite direction.

"For Rowena's sake, Riddle. Look at me." you snapped, using the pads of your fingers to firmly direct his face to yours.

His gaze was void of emotions when he stared at you. Like it had been all the times before when he'd antagonise Harry or Ron with his friends. His eyes were no longer soft like they had been with you these past months. They were cold and dark and angry.

If you hadn't have grown some sort of friendship with him, if you could even call it that, then you'd happily go on ignoring his existence again. But for some reason, you couldn't shake him, wouldn't shake this hold he had on you.

"What do you want, Meadow?" he asked, voice low and raspy, as if he'd not spoken in a while. "I thought you'd get the hint by now? Or are you seriously that stupid?"

"You confuse the absolute fuck out of me, Riddle." you say, beginning to grow annoyed at his apparent nonchalance. "What's your issue? You agree to help me out for Theo's sake and the second it gets complicated you what? You just....leave?"

"'S not like we're mates, Meadow." he grumbles, rolling his eyes as he takes another hit. "Actually I'm pretty sure we're supposed to be enemies."

"The whole point of the lessons is for me to help you and your friends get out, is it not?"

"To get them out. Not me. That wasn't the deal." he snaps.

"I agreed to help. That includes you, too."

"And how did you honestly expect that to go down? Huh!" he stood up so suddenly that you stumbled backwards, into the table that was behind you.

"How do you think the Order will react when you go to them, pleading for my case? The son of The Dark Lord on their side? They'd sooner call you a traitor for even associating with any of us." he had gotten closer to you, so much so that the toes of his shoes kissed your's.

"They would be understanding. If you told them how much you hate him-"

"And you think they'd actually believe that?" he snaps, stepping even closer to you. You had to press your hands against his firm chest to stop him trapping you further against the table. "They'd show mercy to Theo and the others. That's all I care about. I didn't want any of them to be involved. You need to get them out. Not me."

"But why?" you question harshly, looking at him through your lashes. His brown eyes were pure onyx now, no traces of the boy you'd gotten to know were present.

"I am my father's son, sweetheart. My fate has been sealed since the day I was born. There's no helping me." he says quietly, his eyes boring into your's.

"Let me help you. Please." you say resolutely. "We'll think of something. They have to hear you out."

"They won't."

"They have to." you insist. "What kind of people would they be if they refuse to help someone in need."

"They can't help someone who can't be saved, sweetheart."

"For fuck's sake Mattheo! Why are you being so stubborn?!" you snap, your voice raising in octaves that surprises both of you.

"Why are you so determined to save me?" he shouts back, leaning down so that your faces are level. His hands sit on either side of your thighs, bracketing you to the table as his breathe huffs against your cheek, the scent of weed and smoke overtaking your senses. He's breathing heavily, eyes flicking between your's and your lips. Mattheo seems to be holding onto what little resolve he has left before the unthinkable happens.

He's staring at your lips now. Your breathe hitches as he seems to contemplate something but you can't see his thoughts very clearly.

It's only a split second decision but you can see it, the moment he decides to let go.

"Fuck it." he mumbles before his mouth decends on your's. In your shock you don't realise that you've practically frozen until he pulls away with wide eyes.

"Shit- Meadow I'm sorry I-" you snap out of your frozen state and don't let him finish his sentence as you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and kiss him like your life depended on it.

The feeling is euphoric. His lips are like a warm and gentle hug against your own; it feels right. Like the missing piece of a never ending puzzle was finally put back into place. You're so in your head that you don't even register the unceremonious moan you let out when Mattheo's tongue sensually brushes your own. It allows him to deepen the kiss and you think you might die happily right then and there, with his soft lips on your's.

Gods, sweetheart. he groans, his inhibitions down, so you feel everything he feels. Every thought and every desire. If I knew kissing you felt this good, I would've done that much sooner.

When you eventually pull away from eachother, only a hair of space was left between you, your breathing equally heavy.

His onyx eyes held that familiar softness that he seemed to only show around you, his lips quirked into a cheeky grin.

Merlin, he was the most attractive boy you'd ever layed eyes on. It was then that you realised that you were well and truely fucked.

~∞~

omg they kissed 🫢🫢

the one bed trope gets me every time 🤭🤭 i think we can all agree that mattheos a bit of an idiot but the guy's got his secrets...😁

and i love angst and slow burns so much but i couldn't help myself lol i love a '"fuck it" and they kiss' moment but im sorry this was short. i was contemplating carrying this on or splitting the chapter into two which is what im doing so really this is more of a filled chapter for whats to come ;)

taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora

#harry potter #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #theo nott #pansy parkinson #mattheo riddle x you #angst #serendipity series

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empresskylo · 1 year ago

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beneath the mask ✩ chapter 2 ⬅ ch. 1

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | afab!reader. kinda mean!ghost. drinking. wc 2.3k. ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | so glad you're all liking the story so far! hope you like this chapter as well. like i mentioned before, i havent actually played this game lmao so pls excuse any plot inaccuracies. i'm going off of wikipedia and lets plays of the game on youtube. there will definitely be plot points that don't quite line up with the actual game. oh and just fyi, i do not have a tag list. sorry!!

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

you awoke the following morning with a splitting headache, someone shaking you back and forth only increasing the pain. you squinted your eyes open to see your friend leaning over you.

“what?” you said through gritted teeth, not holding back any snark.

“smith and jamerson got pulled into something early this morning. you’re the only medic on base and gaz is bleeding out in the infirmary.”

you shot up in bed, almost slamming foreheads with your friend. “shit. why didn’t you start with that?” you hissed, stumbling out of bed and blindly yanking on clothes.

it didn’t take you long to appear in the cold and barren infirmary, a laughing gaz stretched out on a bed filling your vision when you came storming in.

he was laughing?

“gaz,” you began, approaching him. he looked away from ghost, who had apparently been bearable enough to make kyle laugh whilst ‘bleeding out’.

gaz mimicked you and repeated your name, a stupid grin on his face.

“i was told you were bleeding out,” you said with a bit of annoyance on your tongue as you slowly strolled up to the man.

“well, i am bleeding,” he said, holding his hand up, poorly wrapped in white linen that had turned a rusty red.

you rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand, turning it over in your own. “did you do this?” you asked, referring to the shitty bandage job.

“not bad, right?” he said with a cheeky grin.

“you’ve got to be kidding, gaz,” your fingers came up to grip the bridge of your nose. “look at it. it's so loose that dirt and debris have gotten into it. you’ll get an infection if i don’t redo it.” you shook your head. “how long has it been like this?”

“several hours, i think.” gaz looked at ghost who ever so slightly shook with a silent laugh. “i dont know, i think i did a pretty fabulous job, but if you insist.” his words were soft and airy and you cocked a brow at him.

“he’s doped up,” ghost’s guttural voice said from beside you. that would explain gaz’s nonchalance. “got properly decked in the ribs. wouldn’t be surprised if he broke a couple.”

your eyes narrowed at gaz. “gaz,” you said exhaustedly with a hint of reprimand. he looked at you with puppy-dog eyes and you stifled a giggle.

you went to work on gaz, checking his ribs for fractures and cleaning and rebandaging his hand. you were trying excruciatingly hard to not think about ghost’s eyes on you as you moved about the room. you could feel his glare like flames licking your skin.

finished with gaz, you switched gears and went to ghost’s bedside. he had refused to sit still and had his feet hanging over the edge while he cleaned one of his guns. he looked up at you and you could have sworn you saw something like reverence in his eyes.

you went to change ghost’s bandages now, gaz already snoring behind you, making you smile to yourself.

“goin’ back t’my room today,” ghost told you.

“that’s not a good idea, l.t.” you gently nudged his chest and he sat the gun down beside him and laid back. your fingertips lit like a match at just the small physical contact.

“well good thing I wasn’t askin’.”

why did he always have to be so blunt? you grit your teeth as you finished up, avoiding any unnecessary contact with his skin.

“i’ll only need to keep an eye on you the next two days. just to make sure there's no infection. then it’s easy sailing from there. i’ll show you how to clean–”

“i’m not daft. been hurt before. didn’t have some medic on call then, either.”

some medic. you weren’t sure why that stung. you felt stupid all of a sudden; of course he’s been injured before. he likely knew the drill like the back of his hand. you suspected under all his gear there were battle wounds that would take a full day just for him to go over the story behind each one.

“well, only two more days with me. then i’ll be out of your hair,” you mumbled.

you felt pathetic for wanting him to reply. to assure you that you didn’t annoy him or that he didn’t mind seeing you. but he just remained silent until you turned and left the room.

you found soap later that day digging through papers sprawled out on the coffee table before him. “didn’t know you could read,” you teased.

he looked up at you with a grin. you stood behind him to get a look at what he was reading. “jus’ goin’ over the dossier for our next mission.”

“ our ?” you questioned.

“since you’re the only medic available at the moment. yes, you’ll be coming along for the ride.”

“oh, don’t i feel so special,” you said sarcastically.

“i woulda asked for you regardless.”

“didn’t know you could make medic requests.”

“ya can’t.”

you collapsed next to him on the couch, sighing before you glazed over the words on the sheets.

“wait, ‘Hassan’?” you said perking up and pointing to the man’s name. “this seems serious.” you looked at soap with concern.

“not gonna be an easy one, that’s for sure.”

“but, soap, i can barely use a gun, let alone fight. this seems like i might get killed if…” you trailed off, your heart beginning to race. you weren’t used to going along for intimate missions like this. you usually were held back at base or brought alongside a slew of other medics. but with everyone else gone…

“don’t worry, lass,” he said bumping your shoulder with his own. “we’ll get ya trained up. it’s not for another two weeks when Hassan should be in Al Mazrah.”

that didn’t exactly make you feel any better. these men have been training their whole life. and you got two weeks?

soap could see the worry spread across your visage. “you’ll have me, gaz, price, and ghost to protect ya.”

“no,” you shook your head. “i can’t become a liability. you guys will have far more important things to focus on.”

“yer not a liability . we need you. there's a good chance that if we capture Hassan, he’ll be hurt. it’s crucial we keep him alive.”

“and that’s where i come in,” you said gloomily.

“you’re there for us too,” he said smiling at you. soap always did appreciate everything the medics did for the team. he never treated you any differently than the other soldiers. you leaned against him, your heart racing at the idea of what was to come.

it was late at night when ghost was due for another cleaning. you made it to his door and softly knocked. you paused a moment but didn’t hear anything in return so you quietly pushed the door open.

the room was dark but you could see the faint silhouette of ghost hunched over on the edge of his bed. your hand hit the wall, searching for the light switch.

“wait,” his deep voice rumbled. you paused all movement and heard the soft rustle of fabric as ghost shuffled. you saw the illuminated outline of him as he pulled his mask over his face. your heart skipped a beat realizing he was sitting in here without it on. “okay.”

you ticked the light switch and met his eyes immediately. he had on his thin balaclava as opposed to the usual hard plastic of his skull mask. it felt like he was naked.

“why don’t you let anyone see you?” you asked timidly.

“why do you wanna see so bad?” he retorted, clearly already irritated with you.

“i..” you paused, thinking momentarily. “it’s not that i want to see what you look like. but don’t you find it, i don’t know,” you gestured your hands around nervously, “a bit lonely?”

“lonely?”

“i feel like i’d be lonely if i was always guarded.”

ghost appraised you for a moment, making you squirm uncomfortably. “well, i’m not lonely,” he grunted. okay, end of conversation, you thought.

you shifted the strap of your bag on your shoulder, “right. i’m sorry. i didn’t mean–”

“quit fuckin’ apologizing.”

you sucked in a sharp breath. “okay. sor–” before you could finish your sentence you stopped yourself.

you watched ghost roll his eyes. why did upsetting him make you feel so disconcerted? you tried to wipe your face of all expression but you knew he would be able to tell his words wounded you. it wasn’t fair– he could read everything on your face, but all he gave you was his eyes.

you bit your lip then approached him, wanting to get this over with. “if you wanna take off your shirt,” you said absentmindedly as you set your med bag down on his bed beside him.

he sat back slightly and hiked up his shirt, obviously not wanting to remove it fully. you weren’t sure why, but that made your face heat. it was a statement you’ve made a thousand times to men who had injuries on their torso or when you had to examine their chest. you hadn’t even thought about it when you said it. but when ghost clearly didn’t want to completely shed his clothes, you felt embarrassed, like you had asked for too much. and in a way, he was right. he didn’t need to completely be bare-chested for you to work on him. the wound was quite low on his abdomen.

you swallowed your embarrassment and cleaned and rebandaged his stitches. you saw an array of goosebumps rise on ghost’s skin from your featherlight touches as you worked. you finished quickly before shoving all your supplies forcibly in your med bag. you needed out of there asap.

you threw your bag on your shoulder and went to leave when ghost’s bare hands grabbed your wrist. he twirled you so effortlessly to face him again that it almost infuriated you.

you sucked in a breath of air as you looked at him a bit dumbfounded. ghost thought for a moment, his hand still firmly around your wrist.

“i don’t mean to be such an arse,” he grunted.

in a breathy tone you spoke back, “it’s fine. i don’t think that, you’re just—“

he cut you off. “no. i don’t have to be so fuckin' upfront with you all the time. you’re just tryin’ to do your job. i gotta remind myself your not one of my men.”

you nodded, holding in the hurt that echoed through you. he was being upfront with you? what did that mean? that he regrets just being honest? that wasn’t what you wanted to hear. you hated yourself for wanting him to say something along the lines of him just lashing out and he didn’t mean the shit he said to you. but he did mean the shit he said, he just regretted saying it out loud.

“not one of your men, right,” you repeated back. you weren’t one of his men. you were just a starstruck woman who had no fucking business working with the most elite men in the world. awesome.

ghost’s eyes darted between yours as if he wanted to say something more. that maybe he didn’t like the sullen tone you used when repeating his words back to him. as if he might have actually not intended for that implication. you could have sworn you saw his lips move under his mask like he was contemplating telling you he didn’t mean it like that.

but he was silent.

“really. it’s fine,” you mumbled. “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

ghost breathed your name, all too easily deciphering the hurt in your words. you wanted to bash your head against the wall for being so obvious. he was right. you weren’t meant for this line of work. you were too soft.

oh my god, were you going to cry?!

you ignored the flutter in your belly when he said your name and scurried out of the room, wanting to drown out your embarrassment with a swig of whiskey. this seemed to be a pattern with you two–ghost saying something a bit too real, you getting hurt and running out of the room like a baby.

you found soap back where you left him and you waltzed over to him with a bottle of whiskey in hand. he looked up at you and gave you a cheeky grin.

his smile shifted to something of concern when you deflated next to him on the sectional.

“ghost give ya a hard time?”

“no,” you lied. “just been a long day.”

soap took the bottle from you and took a drag. “long week, more like it.”

you chuckled before taking a sip. you passed the bottle back and forth a few more times until your body buzzed and your mouth wouldn’t let you swallow any more of the foul liquid.

“how do you guys drink this shit?” you asked, making a face of disgust.

“years of self-hatred,” he grinned.

you slouched against him.

“do you think i’m cut out for this?

he flipped through the pages of the dossier before glancing at you. “cut out for what?”

you gestured around you. “this. working with you guys. working for the best of the best.”

“'course i fuckin’ do.” he gave you a quizzical look. “why would you even ask that?”

you shrugged, keeping your eyes off of him.

your name escaped his lips making you finally look up at him. “you’re here for a reason. price doesn’t let just anyone join his team. i’ve seen what you can do, lass. you’re part of the best of the best .”

you smiled making him grin at you in return. “no more of this shit, okay?” he said softly, his scottish accent getting heavier the more he drank. you found it comforting.

“okay,” you agreed.

“now, lets find price so we can steal all his money with a few games of cards,” he said, lightly tapping your shoulder with his fist.

you laughed knowing good and well price could beat the two of you blindfolded.

chapter 3 ➡

#ghost #simon riley #smut #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost call of duty #ghost angst #cod mw2 #cod fic #call of duty fanfic #mw2 fanfic #beneath the mask

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mostlymarvelsstuff · 7 months ago

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To Call You Mine

Chapter 11

Authors note: don't ask me how you'd determine a babys birth gender in an Omegaverse, just pretend with me lmao

Word count: 1564

Nat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist TCYM Masterlist

4 months

You lazily stretch as you sit up in the nest, trying your best to not wake the sleeping Omega by your side just yet. One free from your still slumbering mates hold, you tiptoe off to the bathroom to take care of your business before you head to make breakfast.

Now in the kitchen, you pull a package of bacon and the carton of eggs out of the fridge and bring them over to the counter next to the stove. You grab a couple of pans and turn on the burners, waiting for them to warm up before you lay a few slices of meat in one and crack a few eggs in the other. You add a pinch of spices and some minced veggies to them before mixing up the yolks and whites, getting everything well and scrambled as they cook.

The delicious aromas make their way back to the bedroom, which causes Natasha to stir from her slumber. She groggily blinks away the remainder of sleep before checking in on Dima on the monitor. Satisfied that he's still asleep she tosses her blanket aside and makes her way to the kitchen.

A smile spreads across her face as she sees you at the stove, cooking a meal for your family. Getting to witness and experience what she never thought she’d get with you, always elicits a warmth within her, like all the love and safety you've ever shown her has just made a home there within her. And she really hopes that never goes away. A meow pulls her from her thoughts and she stifles a giggle when she sees the small black furball pawing at your ankle, looking up at you as if she’d not had a meal all month.

“Don’t give me that look, little miss” you coo at her, though all it gets you is another pitiful meow, “Oh fine, even though you don’t need it, I can’t say no when you look at me like that.”

Liho patiently waits as you cut up a small piece of bacon for her, and you can’t believe how the feline has both you and Nat wrapped around her paw already. If this is how bad you both are with a cat, you worry what it'll be like once the pups are all talking properly. They're all going to be so spoiled, not that you truly minded. Afterall, you’d have spoiled Natasha much more than you already had if it didn’t surpass her comfort levels.

“Here, eat up you little menace” you tell her, placing the bacon in front of her before patting her head

“That better not be my bacon you just gave away”

You turn around and smile at your adorable Omega, who still has sleep tousled hair, “I don’t have a death wish, baby. I know not to touch your bacon”

“Good” she affirms, but the smile on her lips confirms she's only teasing, “I wouldn’t want you to have to sleep on the couch”

You laugh, “Wow, not only banned from the nest, but the bed too”

She shrugs, “I take my bacon very seriously”

“You know what I take seriously?” you ask, not waiting for a reply, “My morning kisses”

She smiles and shakes her head at your antics, but doesn’t hesitate to step forward into your awaiting arms. Your hands rest on her hips protectively as she leans forward to connect her lips to yours in a gentle kiss.

“Better?” she teases, pulling back from you slightly

You lean in to peck her lips a second time, “Now it is”

A cute blush settles across her cheeks and she decides she wants to distract you so you don’t comment on it, “Are you excited for today?”

“Of course I am!” you reply, eyes lighting up as you look at her, “I can’t wait to see how many you're carrying! And so long as they're healthy, I’ll be happy!”

Nats smile widens almost impossibly. Bruce hadn’t cared one way or the other how many she was with, all he cared about was the fact that he had succeeded in getting her knocked up after how much resistance she had given him. And he was also adamant that it had better be a son. He needed to have one so badly that she was actually scared of what he'd do if she ended up having just a girl. But thankfully the universe had been kind enough to appease him, and now it had finally been kind to her.

“What about you, detka(baby)?”

Your voice brings her back to the present and she nods, “I am too, and as much as I’ll love them regardless, I really do want a little girl”

You adoringly watch on as she brings a hand up to caress her bump, and you know then that if you haven’t been successful with getting a girl this time, you would happily try again and again if necessary.

“3 o'clock really can’t come soon enough”

She chuckles, “I was just thinking the same thing. But let's eat breakfast and maybe time will pass by a bit quicker once I get Dima up”

Time does indeed move faster once your pup is awake and fed, and before you even know it you and your mate are greeting Yelena at the door. You exchange quick pleasantries with her as well as thanking her for coming over to watch her nephew. She of course only waves you off

“It's no trouble. He is my nephew afterall. Besides, he and I get along like a house on fire!”

Nat turns her gaze away from her sister beaming smile and to you, “That's what worries me”

Yelena pouts a bit, obviously having heard but she remains quiet, at a loss for what to say just yet. And you shrug, “I think it's safe enough for now. When he gets older though and can walk and talk properly, we may have a problem then”

“Hey! I am right here!” the blonde speaks up with a dramatic flair of her hands

You and your mate both chuckle, and your Omega moves to embrace her sister once more, “And we thank you so much for being her and being the brunt of our jokes.”

“Yeah yeah” she mumbles, hugging Nat back regardless, “Now go on, I know how excited you both are so stop tormenting me and get to your appointment”

Your Omega eagerly nods and removes herself to say another quick goodbye to Dima which you join her in. As the two of you went to the garage you can hear the Beta call out, “I expect a phone call as soon as you leave the doctors!”

You chuckle at how excited she is, knowing you both feel the same way, “We’ll call you!”

Once at the doctor's office the two of you can hardly contain your excitement. Sitting next to you, Natasha is practically vibrating. If someone didn’t know better they'd think she was overly jittery due to too many cups of coffee. But you knew that wasn’t the case, and so her actions were quite adorable.

You were about to offer up some words to help ease her nerves and calm her a bit, but before you get the chance a nurse opens the door to the waiting room and calls her name. The two of you follow her back down the hallway until you get to the room she's chosen for you both. She takes your Omegas blood pressure and listens to her heart beat before helping her get settled on the bed. She gets the ultrasound machine ready and then leaves to get the doctor.

“You okay, Omega?” you ask, reaching out to grab her hand

She nods, “Just a little nervous. I don’t want anything to be wrong”

“I know detka(baby)” you offer her a reassuring smile, “Just remember that I’m right here”

She nods just as the doctor enters. She exchanges greetings with the two of you before getting settled at the ultrasound machine. She lifts up your mate's shirt and slides her pants waistband down a bit to fully expose her bump, followed by her squeezing some of the cold gel onto her skin there. Natasha shudders a bit at its temperature and the doctor apologizes. She slowly moves the wand around while studying the screen in front of her. Though you know it's less than a minute, it feels like she's silent for an hour before she finally speaks

“Everything is looking really good. Both mom and pups look healthy”

“Pups?” Nats asks, her eyes lighting up as she smiles at you

The doctor smiles and turns the screen towards the two of you and you both watch as a fuzzy black and white image takes shape, “Right there you can see them both”

Natashas eyes begin to water as she sees the pups outlines, “We’re having twins, Alpha”

“Yeah we are” you respond, a few tears of your own building, “Can you tell what they are?”

The doctor looks back at the screen for a few moments before answering, “Congrats, looks like you're having two little girls”

Natashas hand tightens its grip on yours and you offer her a brilliant smile, “Hear that Omega? Girls.”

She matches your smile with one of her own, “I can’t wait to tell Yelena”

Taglist:@wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @readings-stuff @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastormm @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight @aeroae @sashawalker2 @naslt @lattayhottay16 @yelenabelov-ed @thatonebrazilian @that-one-gay-mosquito @marvelwomen-simp @wannabe-fic-reader @tashakink @whitewidowsbite @smromanoff

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x reader #omega!nat #omega!Natasha romanoff #marvel fanfiction #fanfic #marvel

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cosmicpearlz · 2 months ago

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yours for the time being |2|

summary: what happens when your academic rival of years proposes an offer of fake dating? pure chaos.

pairing: gryffindor!jude bellingham x slytherin!reader

a/n: chapter two is finally here!! there is a few time skips in this timeline because i really don't want this series to be overly long but everything still makes sense (at least to me lol). enjoy my loves <3

jude woke up the next morning determined to prove a point. prove a point to whom? no one per say but he was ready to tackle the day. showering and putting on his robes, he headed to the slytherin painting. the gryffindor managed to do everything before ron and harry woke up. did he need to wake up this early? no, he really didn't.

"where's y/n?"

"literally how the fuck did you get in here?" draco says, throwing a confused glance towards jude. the slytherin common room was pretty much empty besides draco, theo and blaise. the boy shrugged in reply to the question.

"don't worry about it."

"mate, y/n isn't even up at this hour. we can relay a message for you though," theo jumps in the conversation. he studied jude's face and body language, the slytherin boy knew something was up.

"i'll come back later then, yeah?"

"if you wish," theo shrugs his shoulders with a light nod. jude doesn't wait for anyone else to talk, he's off to his next destination. the great hall.

"he totally likes her," blaise says to the other guys as soon as jude left the common room.

"yeah, i can see that. i think she likes him too, if we're being honest," theo replied.

you were late. like super late and it's all because you didn't set your alarm properly. to make matters worse, of course your stupid friends didn't wake you. you missed breakfast, all of your morning classes and lunch. you showered, dressed in your robes and headed to the common room. you knew the friend group would be there at this time.

"you lot are fucking rude! how could you let me-" your voice trailed off upon seeing jude instead of your friends. a sight that shocked you once more.

"jude, what are you doing here?"

"welcome back to society sleeping beauty." you groaned and pouted at the thought of not having anything to eat. you seriously hated your friends in this moment.

"don't even start. i don't have any food in my system and i know that the kitchens are closed until dinner."

"lucky for you, i saved you a chocolate chip muffin. i know it's not a lot but i figured it would hold you until dinner," jude hands you the muffin that was wrapped in a paper towel.

"how'd you know i like the chocolate chip muffins?"

"i remember in our third year, you used to bully draco into giving you his. that way you always ended up with two." you heart skipped a beat, and you sent the boy a small smile.

"well thank you," you turn to take a seat on the couch. "you know you're missing the last set of classes to be here, right?"

"i was worried when i didn't see you for the day. so after lunch, i came to the common room with your friends. they left at some point to god knows where," he takes a seat next to you.

"and they didn't even wake me? ugh, those idiots."

"i think they thought that you weren't feeling good. to be fair, i would think so too. you're never late to class."

"you have a point buddy. thank you for the muffin again, i could literally kiss you right now," you take another bite, missing the way jude's smirk grows.

"i wouldn't complain about that."

"what?"

"i wouldn't complain if you kissed me. remember you're my girlfriend, a little peck wont hurt." you rolled your eyes and leaned closer to his face. you stare at him before placing a quick peck to his lips.

"you're so flirty bellingham. for no reason at that."

"what? i can't flirt with my girlfriend? and i don't think the kiss was long enough." it's official, the boy was going to drive you insane.

"not long enough?"

"yeah, c'mere for a second," jude wastes no time pulling you in for a kiss. the kiss is as gentle as his hand that rested on your cheek. you shuffle closer to his body, kissing him back intensely. the energy between the two of you pick up causing you both to fight for dominance. jude licks the bottom of your lip, seemly asking for permission. to which to you grant by opening your mouth enough for him to slip his tongue in.

"so he is your boy toy? and that's why he was here early this morning." you jumped away from jude hearing blaise's voice. turning your head, you lock eyes with your friends. each one staring in amusement.

"he isn't my boy toy. he's my boyfriend." you turned back towards jude, "you were here this morning?" jude interlocks his hand with yours, causally nodding his head.

"yeah, don't worry about that." you tilted your head in confusion.

"since when are you guys dating? you usually tell me everything," pansy asks with a slight pout on her face.

"we just started dating and its fairly new. i would've told you if you guys woke me up today! it's like y'all didn't even care my absence."

"told you we should've woken her up. sorry y/n, these idiots don't listen."

"you very well could've woken me up theo."

"you got a point. anyways, we were coming to grab you for dinner."

"good, i'm so hungry. we'll meet you guys in a minute."

"why? you wanna keep kissing your boyfriend?" draco says in a mocking tone. you give him a blank stare and flip him off.

"mind your business. shoo, we'll catch up." your friends left the two of you alone. waiting until the door closes again, you turn to jude.

"how'd i do?"

"you definitely made it believable."

"good. now, are we gonna talk about that kiss?"

"nah," jude shakes his head. "let's get you something to eat though," he stands up himself before helping you stand as well.

"so, we're just not gonna talk about the kiss?"

"walk," jude stands behind you with his hands on your shoulders. you huffed, letting the boy guide you out of the room.

the walk to the great hall was quiet yet peaceful. jude's hand remained interlocked with yours and everything felt natural. it was a crazy feeling seeing as it's only been two days since you guys agreed to fake date.

"will you sit with me?"

"are you asking jude?"

"yes. i'd like it if we sat together."

"because of lavender?"

"no, i'm not worried about her. i just like hanging out with you."

"that's a sentence that i've never thought i'd hear from you."

"is that a yes?" he pokes your side, waiting for an answer. you smiled up at him and nodded.

"sure, i'll sit with you."

jude leads the two of you to the gryffindor table. the quiet murmurs of students that watched the two of you suddenly made you self-conscious. you take a glance at your table, finding that your friends were already looking at you. you send a small smile to the group and focus on sitting down next to jude. meeting harry and ron's gazes, you could tell they weren't happy.

"what is she doing here?" harry looks away from you, turning his gaze to his friend.

"she's my girlfriend and i wanted her to sit with me."

"i'm sorry, did you just say girlfriend? as in this snake is your actual girlfriend?" ron asks in a dry manor. the table was awkwardly silent after that. hermione slaps his shoulder and gives a scolding look.

"well fuck you too," you mumbled under your breath. jude being the only one to hear you, kicks your leg lightly. you look to him with a scrunched face. to which he stares right back at you with furrowed brows, you sighed and began to pick at your food.

"don't call her that. we're still freshly new to the dating thing."

"we're happy for you," hermione smiles. you smile back at her and looked down once more. naturally ignoring the other two boys.

the rest of the table falls back into their own conversations. it makes you miss your table because it was like you were invisible during the time you say there. of course, jude did his best to include you in the conversation but the other two friends weren't having it. hermione being the only other person to talk to you. lavender stared at you guys the entire time. her grip on the metal spoon was enough to break it.

"so, in two weeks, our game is against slytherin," jude turns to you with a grin. the quidditch games between gryffindor and slytherin was always a sight to see. seeing as the houses were longtime rivals.

"let me guess; you want me to wear your scarf?"

"absolutely."

"no."

"oh c'mon! why not?"

"because slytherin is gonna kick your team's ass. why would i wear the losing team's colors?" you smirk up at him with a slightly scrunched nose.

"and how are you so sure that your team is winning princess?" jude gazes into your eyes. your chest starts to feel warm under his intense eye contact.

"i just know," you shrugged, maintaining the eye contact he gave you. unbeknownst to the two of you, hermione watches the exchange. she smiles to herself, knowing that the two of you were practically perfect for each other.

"do i have to beg?"

"maybe. i dunno, you should try it," you keep your snicker to yourself. it's jude's turn to huff and roll his eyes.

"can you please wear my scarf?"

"hmm," you stroke your chin with your pointer finger and thumb. pretending to even give it a second thought.

"no."

you wore the stupid scarf. maybe it was jude's pathetic puppy dog eyes that did it for you. or maybe it was you growing a small soft spot for the gryffindor over the last couple of weeks. standing with hermione and pansy, you felt nervous for this match. you wanted your team to win but a small part of you hoped jude won.

"wearing your boyfriends' colors, huh?" pansy smirked at you.

"pans, knock it off. jude asked me to wear it but it doesn't mean i want slytherin to lose."

"i think it's sweet that you put your pride aside to support your boyfriend," hermione says, while nudging your arm. you finally crack and smile at the thought.

"yeah yeah, whatever. i wish this game would start, it's cold out here," you snuggled his scarf closer to your face. seemly inhaling his cologne that was left on it. a delightful woody smell with a hint of spice. it was enough to make you melt, not that you would ever tell jude that.

"oh, look it's finally starting!" pansy shakes your shoulders, along with reaching over you to poke hermione's arm.

the slytherin team walks out to the pitch first. cheers and boos fill the stadium. next, the gryffindor team walks on to the pitch and receive the same treatment as the other team. with the blow of the whistle, everyone begins flying on their brooms.

the match was intense. from the defending to the fighting for the golden stitch. gryffindor was the first to score a goal, causing your fellow slytherins to groan. you were amused by lee's commentary that he says during every game. both teams going back and forth scoring goals.

"it looks like jude bellingham and theodore nott are going after the golden stitch! let's see who is able to make it first," the announcement rang through the stadium speakers. you couldn't watch as the two of them fight head on. you place your hands over your eyes but stood in anticipation with the rest of the crowd. that was until you heard the loud gasps of the crowd.

"jude bellingham has been knocked off of his broom! that might leave a nasty bruise or two," lee announced, causing you to gasp too. you watched as he felt from his broom, landing in a weird way.

"slytherin wins once again!" you couldn't bring yourself to cheer with your peers. rushing off the stands to follow the helpers that carried an unconscious jude off the pitch and towards the hospital wing.

"is he okay?" you burst through the doors of the hospital wing and questioned madame pomfrey. hermione and pansy standing behind you for comfort.

"he will be. nothing broken, just a few scars and bruising to the ribs." before you could answer, lavender entered through the same doors. you rolled your eyes and turned towards the girl.

"what are you even doing here?"

"checking on jude, as if that wasn't obvious." you stepped closer to the gryffindor girl with a fiery look in your eyes.

"listen here lavender. jude doesn't want you. it's pathetic that you're even still trying! me and him are dating, get over it. if he really wanted you, he would've been dating you a long time ago." your speech rendered the girl speechless. you watched as her eyes watered, but you couldn't bring it in you to care that much. jude groans and your attention is back on him.

"let's give these two some privacy." madame pomfrey ushers everyone out the room. you walk to his bed and watch as his eyes flutter open, meeting your gaze.

"sounds like i gave you quite the scare," jude's voice is horsed and he still manages to let out a small dry chuckle. you sit on the bed, bringing a hand to touch his face.

"you idiot."

"i'm okay, i promise," he wiggled his hand free from under the blanket to grab yours that rest on his cheek. jude maintains his eye contact, while bringing your hand to his lips. pressing soft kisses to the palm and your heart jumped.

"you're bruised up though."

"lucky for me, i have someone to take care of me," jude whispers. you chuckle and lean down to kiss his cheek. you weren't sure what came over you, but you felt that it was something you needed to do.

"who says i'm taking care of you?"

"me. it's part of the girlfriend rule book."

"the girlfriend rule book?" the boy dramatically gasps at your questioning tone.

"you've never heard of the girlfriend rule book?"

"pretty sure that's not a thing bellingham."

"of course it is. there's a page that says girlfriends must care for their injured or sick boyfriends."

"oh yeah?"

"yes."

"you made that up."

"no, it's real." you stare at him with a knowing look. for a couple seconds, it was silent between you guys. you were just staring at each other before jude cracks a smile.

"okay, i made it up."

"I knew it! it sounded so stupid, something you'd definitely think of."

"is it wrong for me to want my girlfriend to kiss it better?" he sticks his bottom lip out in a pout. you giggled at his silliness and shake your head.

"no, i suppose not."

"can i get a kiss?"

"do you deserve a kiss?"

"c'mon, i'm on my death bed," he whines like a child that isn't getting what they want.

"you're not on your death bed jude."

"woman just kiss me already!"

you lean your head down to press a kiss to his lips. you try to pull away but jude is quicker in pressing your face closer to his. mouths moving in sync with each other. he bites your bottom lip, loving the sound you make in the kiss. you hand touches the side of his rib, which causes him to break the kiss and flinch. a groan of pain comes out of his mouth. your hand jumps back from his body in stock.

"i'm so sorry. i completely forgot! are you okay?" your eyes search his body and face frantically. jude places both hands on your cheeks, turning you to face him.

"i'm okay princess. you did nothing wrong."

"promise?"

"i promise," he pulls your head down to peck your lips once more.

god, it looks like you both are breaking your rule of not getting attached to each other. neither of you seem to care too much about that. your hearts beating solely for each other. not that the other knows about the secret feelings that were brewing up.

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #slytherin!reader #harry potter au #harry potter x reader

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formulaforza · 1 year ago

Text

miss americana and the heartbreak prince

—07. Homegrown —word count: 15.8k —warnings: none :) love, mackie... I don't really have much to say lol... just that I love this chapter and it got a little out of hand. I hope you love it like I do!

Chris takes a personal day at work on the Thursday Charles gets into Georgia. She wants to make sure she’s the one picking him up from the airport, doesn’t want to spend a single second longer than she needs to without seeing him, hugging him, kissing him.

His flight lands at 10:15, but by the time he gets through customs, baggage, and calls Chris three times after getting lost in the Atlanta airport, it’s 11:30. She finally finds him outside the Maynard Terminal, backpack slung over his shoulders, suitcase next to him. He looks so perfectly like a boyfriend, she thinks. “I can see you,” she says. “Do you see my car?”

“No,” he laughs, and it pours from the car speakers like sweet honey. “I don’t.”

“Okay, well, stay put, then. I’m coming to you.” She manages to make her way across two lanes to be right on the curb, and then he spots her, his whole expression taking shape when their eyes lock. She rolls her window down as he approaches, and slots the car into park. “Oh my god,” she giggles. “Is that Charles Leclerc?”

He rolls his eyes. “Open the trunk?”

“Charles Leclerc wants me to open the trunk?” She says, pushing the button on her door-panel to pop the hatch open.

“Charles Leclerc wants you,” he says, hoisting his suitcase up into the back of the car, tossing his backpack there, too. “Could have stopped there,” he chuckles, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror. She blushes, a cheek-aching smile still on her face. He slams the trunk shut and makes his way around the car, opening the passenger door. “Hi, pretty girl,” he properly greets her. “What’s this?” He asks.

Sitting there, on the passenger seat, is a bouquet of flowers. Red roses, white roses, and white carnations for passion, new romance, and luck. Filler greens and red estelles for encouragement. Manilla and sheer white tissue paper wrap the flowers, a dark red ribbon tied into a bow around the stems. Next to it, is a matching envelope with his name scribbled in purple pen. Inside the envelope is a white greeting card with “just because” printed in simple, black lettering, a handwritten note from Chris on the inside.

Chris smiles. “They’re for you.”

“For me?” He asks, the hint of a giggle in his tone. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

Chris shrugs, watches him carefully pick up the flowers and the card and climb into the car where he further examines them. “It’s not a big deal,” she says, tucking her bangs behind her ears. “I had to go with Hannah to the florist this morning.”

“No, it’s so cool. Nobody has ever gotten me flowers before.”

Chris frowns. “Never?”

“I mean,” he shrugs, “my mum once, but that doesn’t count,” and then he starts to open the envelope, but Chris stops him.

“No, please,” she says, her hand covering his. “I can’t watch you read it, I’ll die.”

He laughs, “you’re so cute.”

Her face stays straight and solemn. “I’m serious.”

“I know,” he sets the flowers and the card down securely between his feet. “I’ll wait.”

“Thank you.”

Chris can feel the heat rushing to her cheeks. God, she feels like such a child. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m going to kiss you, now.”

“Okay,” she giggles. “You’re going to kiss me, now.”

His lips meet hers in a tender, lingering kiss. It’s like they hadn’t been apart at all, the way their mouths perfectly fit together. His hand finds her cheek, thumb moving carefully over her skin, letting her deepen the kiss. They let themselves just be for a few moments, to let everything else fade away and cling onto their perfect moment. “Seriously,” he says when they pull apart, and then he gives her another quick peck. “Thank you,” and then another on her forehead. “I missed you. How are you?”

“I’m good,” she nods. “Hungry. Very hungry. How are you?”

“Hungry, also.”

“How hungry?”

“Very.”

Chris nods, kisses him again, just because she can. Because she couldn’t for so many days. “I know a place, but it’s a surprise.”

It’s a twenty-three minute drive to Pig’n’Chik Barbeque in Northern Atlanta. Charles is visibly apprehensive of the little red building and the parking lot filled with the aroma of southern barbeque, but he keeps his commentary to himself. Chris knows it’s probably a little overkill, the hole-in-the wall joint being even a little too gimmicky for her taste, but that’s the whole point. The place is supposed to be gimmicky, while also being good. Chris used to love this place as a little kid—Bill would always take the kids there whenever they’d gone to the city. It was his favorite place then, and so it will always hold a place in her heart.

Charles holds open the door, a bell attached to it announcing their entrance, eliciting a greeting from the staff, a “Hey, guys! How’re you doing?”

“Good, thank you,” Chris smiles, moving through the restaurant towards the diner-style bar at the back. She holds her hand out behind her for Charles, turns to tell him: “You might not have been able to get a seat at your sushi bar, but I can get us up at the Pig’n’Chik bar,” she laughs.

Charles matches her laugh, a playful eye roll and the shake of his head before they’re sitting down on the red leather barstools.

She’s telling him before they even have the menus in front of them what they need to order; fried pickles to split, lemonade to drink because it’s not pig’n’chik without their lemonade. She’s going to order the shrimp and grits and he absolutely needs to have the catfish.

When he cocks his head at the idea of… eating… catfish… she tells him he’s not allowed to look it up, and that he also has to trust her. “It’s the best thing on the menu,” she says.

Charles quirks a brow. “Then why aren’t you eating it?”

“Because the hushpuppies will kill me,” she answers matter-of-factly. “Honestly, you probably shouldn’t eat them, either.” The grease that comes along with eating a deep-fried batter ball isn’t good for anyone’s system, especially not someone who isn’t used to this kind of food. The last thing she needs this weekend is a boyfriend who can’t be more than three feet from a bathroom.

It’s an hour and a half, at least, until they’re pulling into what Chris affectionately calls her “driveway.” Charles thinks that anyone else would more likely call it a dirt road. A trail, even, that turns into a driveway after the trees clear and you can actually see the house.

“This is all yours?” he asks, swears her yard is the size of his apartment lobby.

She nods. “I mean, it’s mostly trees, but, yeah.”

He’s taken on a tour of the old-style farmhouse, which, by the way, is so incredibly her you’d think the place was built for her—lots of beadboard, all this delicate woodworking that a FaceTime call has never been able to do justice. Thick glass windows with the frame painted over, no central heating or cooling, a couple window air conditioners and old radiators to boot. The most like her, though, is the back porch. It’s screened in, has a creek to the floor that the dusty, antique rugs can only attempt to muffle. There’s two couches that couldn’t match less, but still somehow go with each other, both cozy with throw pillows and cushions and warmth. The whole place smells like her, sounds like her, feels like her. He’s immediately comfortable.

Chris and Charles spend most of their afternoon trying to plan out their evening. Starting tomorrow morning, their weekend is on a strict schedule, so they want to make the most of their free time tonight before their dinner with her family. They want to make the most of it so badly that they can’t decide on anything at all, and end up falling asleep on her living room couch.

When Chris’ alarm goes off—the one she’d set the first time she caught herself dozing off, realizing Charles was already passed out next to her—they grumpily get ready to head over to her parents’ house. It’s then, while Charles navigates around Chris and the countertop of her makeup, that she tells him all about Thanksgiving, about her mom pointing out the hickey, and she offers up a warning. “They’re going to pretend they hate you for like, half an hour,” she tells him. “Pretend you’re intimidated.”

“And…” Charles begins, running gelled fingers through his hair. “What if they actually don’t like me?”

“My mom likes everyone,” she says, gestures away at his words. “And my Dad, well, you’ve already met him. He liked you good enough then.”

“He liked me enough to talk to me for ten minutes,” Charles counters. “That doesn’t mean he liked me enough to date his daughter.”

Chris smiles in the mirror, carefully applying her lipstick. “Lucky for you,” she says, “he doesn’t get a say.”

– – –

His leg bounces for the entirety of the ten-minute drive, so much so that at a stop light he can feel how much he shakes the car. Despite that, he doesn’t realize just how nervous he is until they’re in the driveway—which is just as long and trail-like as Chris’ is. Their house is bigger, though. Much bigger.

His palms are clammy, and he wipes them off on his jeans—should he have worn something nicer than jeans? Jeans are really all he brought besides clothes for the wedding, for sleeping, for working out in. Jeans are fine. Jeans are good. Their driveway is a dirt road, jeans are good.

“Relax,” Chris says, trying (and failing) to hold back a little chuckle. “It’s not that serious.” He rolls his eyes because it quite literally is that serious. You only get one chance to make a first impression on your girlfriend’s parents, and when your girlfriend is as close to their family as Chris is, it’s an impression you’d really rather not screw the fuck up. “And the longer we sit here, the longer they’re going to watch from the kitchen window.”

With a deep breath, he climbs out of the car, walks up the rest of the drive and onto the porch a pace behind Chris. She raises her hand to knock twice, turning the doorknob and letting herself in before anyone could even attempt to answer the knock. He steps in behind her, into a wallpapered entryway with a tall table full of keys and pictures and discarded mail on one side, and a wooden bench with tan throw pillows on the other side. “Mom! Dad! We’re here!” She shouts into the house.

A woman’s voice calls back, “in the kitchen! Dad’s upstairs in the office.”

Chris slips off her shoes and Charles follows suit, slotting them under the wooden bench next to hers. He hadn’t worn a coat, but she ducks into a hall closet to hang hers up. He’d worn a sweatshirt over a t-shirt, and he’s pretty sure he’d already sweat through the t-shirt.

He thinks he could smell his way to the kitchen, the way the scent of the home cooked dinner fills the entire house. He follows behind Chris like a lost puppy into the kitchen, and as soon as she turns the corner and walks through the archway, she’s being greeted by her mom, wrapped into an oven-mitt clad hug. He gets a perfect view of her mom, gaze slotted over Chris’ shoulder. She’s not so scary, he thinks. He can recognize more than one of Chris’ features on her face—in the way she smiles and the shape of her eyes, too. That’s where her smile comes from, and her eyes, too.

Over her shoulder, Chris’ mom opens her eyes, waves a bangle-bracelet clad, oven-mitt covered hand in his direction. Charles steps fully into the kitchen, determined to make a good first impression. “And I take it this,” her mom says, pulling away from the hug, “is the charming gentleman you’ve been telling me nothing about?”

Chris laughs, catching his eyes when she says: “Yes, Mom, this is Charles. Charles, this is my mom, Cindy.”

“Hi,” Charles offers a handshake. His friends had reminded him—briefed him, basically—that Americans are fond of their personal space, and he figures if Chris is right, and they are going to be playing the intimidation game with him, there’s no chance he’s getting anything more than a—

“Oh, please,” Cindy laughs, swatting his hand out of the way. “We hug in this family,” and he’s already being pulled in. His surprised eyes catch Chris’, who looks back at him with an oh, my God. I’m so sorry, glance, which makes him chuckle. If this is what pretending not to like him looks like, he’d hate to see what actually liking him is all about. “It’s wonderful to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” he hums, finally pulling away from the hug. “I have heard so much about you.”

“I can’t say the same,” Cindy laughs pointedly at Chris. “But what I have heard has all been good.”

“Well, anything you want to know, I came tonight with my life story ready.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Cindy nods. “Her dad’ll like that a lot.”

“Mama, where’s Beans?” Chris asks, and before he knows it he’s following her out into the backyard for the introduction that he knows is actually the most important. As they stepped onto the lush, green grass, a gentle breeze rustled through the trees. In the corner of the yard, the aforementioned Beans, a friendly Golden Retriever, lays beneath the growing shade of an old oak tree. The fur around his snout is a distinguished shade of white, and he looks up with wise, kind eyes as Chris approaches, his tail shaking slowly at her presence.

“Here he is, my Beanie Baby,” Chris says with affectionate enthusiasm, crouching down to stroke the dog’s ears. He follows suit, squatting down beside her. “Beanie, this is Charles.”

Charles approaches cautiously, fully aware of just how important this introduction was. He extends his hand, letting Beans sniff it gently. The elderly Golden accepts the gesture, the pace of his tail wagging picking up speed. “Hey Beans,” Charles said softly, voice warm. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

Beans responds with a content sigh, his old eyes conveying the years of love and happiness he’s had in this very yard. He leans into Charles’ touch, relishing in the attention.

Chris laughs, “I think he likes you. He’s a bit slower these days, but he’s still the sweetest dog you’ll ever meet.”

After much convincing, and the promise (and fulfillment) of several treat bribes, they’re able to convince Beans to come back into the house, where he curls up on his bed with his milkbones.

Chris’ dad, who joins everyone else downstairs ten minutes later, pops into the dining room while Chris and Charles are setting the table. Chris looks up in the direction of his footsteps with that radiant smile, warm eyes, like always. “Hi, Dad,” she says, her voice drenched in affection.

“Mums,” the man smiles softly, greeting her with open arms and a gentle hug.

“You remember Charles,” she says, and he steps forward, leaving the silverware settings on the tablecloth. Charles extends his hand first, is met with Bill’s firm, heavy handshake.

“Mr. Elliott, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” His voice is stiff, polite, but there’s still a touch of earnestness that betrays his nerves. “Thank you for having me, I’ve heard a lot about you and your family.”

“Now, son, if I’m bein’ completely honest with you. I never thought I was gonna see you again after Texas. I wasn’t feelin’ you out the way I should’a been, if you know what I mean?”

Charles nods, even though he thinks he picked up about seventy-five percent of what was said. “Yes, sir.” He thinks he’d probably answer any question thrown his way, if it meant when he left tonight it was in her parents’ good graces.

Her parents, Bill especially, do maintain their intimidating presence for just as long as Chris says they will. Sat at the dinner table with all of them, next to Chris and across from Cindy and Bill, he can’t help but feel the weight of the situation as they all eat.

“So, Charles,” Bill says, wiping his mouth with a napkin and taking a sip of wine. They’re all nursing glasses of wine, even Charles, who despite never having been particularly fond of the drink, was too scared to say no when Cindy offered. He’d glared daggers at Chris to keep her from speaking up. “Monaco, right?”

Charles nods. “That’s right.”

“A racecar driver from the rich and famous’ playground,” Bill continued. His voice is low and inquisitive. “I’m sure you can see why I might be a lil’...” he chuckles, “worried about you.”

Next to him, Chris cocks her head defensively, leans forward in her seat. “What are you trying to imply, Dad?” Charles unconsciously moves his hand to her lower back in an attempt to reassure her silently. He knows why Bill’s asking questions like this, he knows the reputation certain aspects of his life carry with them. It does put a butterfly or two in his stomach that she’s so eager to jump to his defense, though.

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just quite the party lifestyle you live, isn’t it, Charles?”

“I don’t know if I would say that,” Charles laughs awkwardly. Chris takes a big sip of her wine, leans back in her chair again. He moves his hand from her back to her leg, where she interlocks it with her own under the table. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ll go out with my friends when I’m in town, or we have something to celebrate, but… I’ve honestly become more of a home person these last years.”

Bill raises his brows, takes another bite of his food. “Really?” Charles nods. “That must be difficult, son, all the traveling you do. Alotta’ people in alotta’ cities. How d’ya handle that?”

Charles smiles, fully aware that Bill is just attempting to gauge his character. “It can be lonely at times, but I'm committed to a steady relationship. I like to think I’ve learned to balance my racing career and my personal life.”

“A steady relationship with our daughter.”

Chris squeezes his hand, he squeezes back, smiles softly. “A steady, committed relationship with your daughter, yes.”

Cindy takes a sip of her wine, smiles into the red liquid. She seems satisfied. Bill, not so much. “And what is it that you like most about her?” He asks.

“Dad,” Chris laughs pointedly at her father, a hint of disbelief in the action. “That’s enough.”

“Sorry, Charles,” Cindy interrupts with an awkward chuckle, an attempt to keep the peace before Chris lunges over the table at her dad. Charles isn’t offended by the question, so he wonders if maybe Cindy is apologizing to Chris more than she is to Charles. “He doesn’t mean to come off so investigative. Chris is just our baby, everyone has always looked out for her.”

“It’s okay, I understand,” he nods, takes a bite of food. “As for the question nobody wants you to ask me,” he looks to Bill, remnants of his food still in his mouth. He speaks with the napkin over his lips. “It’s hard to even find a place to start with that, right? I mean, she…” he glances to Chris, finds that she’s already listening to him intently. He smiles, “you are an incredible person,” and he has to look away, because if he keeps going while staring into her brown eyes, he’s going to be as red as a tomato, completely and utterly smitten. “If you really want me to pick something, I guess I would say her kindness, and I’m sure you’re both familiar enough with her heart that I don’t need to ramble on about how lucky I am to have her in my life.”

Chris sinks in her seat, finishes off what’s left of her wine. “Well, now that I’m properly embarrassed for the rest of my life.”

Cindy laughs. “Oh, Chrissy, I haven’t even gotten the baby pictures out yet.” Chris turns to bury herself in Charles’ arm. He can feel how warm her face is through the fabric of his sweatshirt, and it makes him laugh.

“Oh, my God,” she mumbles.

Charles’ ears perk up. “There’s baby pictures?”

Chris nods against his arm. “She’s a scrapbooker.”

He’s so boggled by the way that they can just switch up after that, the way that they stop trying to intimidate him and welcome him with open arms. He thinks that his Mum could never, that she knows within the first thirty seconds of meeting someone if she likes them or not. When it comes to Pascale Leclerc, you’re forever categorized by her first impression. He didn’t tell Chris that, because he didn’t want to worry her more than she already was in her sweats and messy-hair in Abu Dhabi.

After the meal had been cleaned up, the four of them sat comfortably in the living room of Chris’ childhood home. Their home is so nice, so warm and welcoming. He wonders if it’s always been such a comfortable place.

Chris is sprawled out on the corner-seat of the sectional couch, Beans taking up the seat next to her, his head in her lap while she pets him mindlessly. Charles sits on the floor, back to the corner cushion, legs outstretched in front of him under the coffee table. Bill is in the recliner in the corner, working his way through a newspaper crossword puzzle, half-dozing off every ten minutes.

Cindy carries a cardboard box down the stairs, sets it down on the coffee table in the middle of the family room. It’s full to the brim with worn, leather-bound scrapbooks, with Christyn Claire neatly written on the side of the box. She sits down on the floor next to him. Carefully, she pulls one out and gently sets it on the table, brushing the dust off the black leather cover.

Charles watches as she flips open the pages, each one filled with their own vibrant photos, handwritten notes, and little trinkets that tell a story of young Chris. Charles can’t help the smile on his face when he sees the images of her in every stage of life, from a curious toddler with messy, curly pigtails to a teenager with the same smile he can’t get enough of.

Cindy’s eyes sparkle with pride, and she has an anecdote for each and every photo. He’s captivated by it, not just the snapshots, but also the obvious love Cindy carries for her daughter.

“This is Chrissy on the first day of school,” She explained, pointing to a picture of a young girl with a backpack almost as big as herself. “She was so excited to learn, has always been eager to take on new challenges.” Charles nods, hangs onto every word she says. “She’s always been a quick learner, even then.”

Cindy continues to flip through the pages, her and Charles silently sharing in knowing smiles at photos they both know Chris would find particularly embarrassing, making sure she doesn’t catch onto their shared moment from her seat on the couch. Cindy reveals photos from family vacations, birthdays, and school events. Her tales of Chris’ adventures—combined with Chris’ personal renditions added in—make for quite a delightful, and humorous, evening.

“Ah, this one,” Cindy chuckles as she turns the page, revealing a picture of a grinning Chris covered head to toe in colorful paint. “We had an art day in the backyard, and Chrissy decided she'd rather paint herself than the paper.”

He laughed along, felt like he was growing more and more connected to Chris and her family with every shared memory. Part of him wonders if this is still a part of the protective parent act. If it is, it’s definitely doing its job. You can’t be mean to someone when you look at them and imagine the tiny version of them playing dress-up in a princess themed bedroom, or helping wash Dad’s car, or taking a nap at the beach on a mermaid towel. He should get a few baby pictures from his mom, he thinks. To show them to Chris, just so that she isn’t allowed to hurt him.

“She’s always had a big heart,” Cindy said, her smile warm. “Her friends were like extended family,” she continues, pointing out a picture of Chris and several other little children. She points to a blonde, “You’ve met Hannah, right?”

“We’re going there, next, Ma,” Chris interjects.

“Oh, well. This is her when she was five. I think Chris invited her to spend the night for weeks at a time.”

Charles nods, everything he knows about her, the way that she makes friends with anyone she interacts with, it all tracks, can all be seen in these pictures. He thinks that he could sit on the floor all night and go through every single picture in every single scrapbook, and still wouldn’t have enough, wouldn’t know enough about her.

– – –

They leave the Elliott’s house a little after nine, and the air outside is cooler, now, the day fully transitioned into night. Charles sits in the passenger seat, eyeing Chris’ ability to perfectly maintain a speed two under the limit, and the way that she flipped her brights on everytime another car wasn’t cruising down the road. It seemed like this entire town was half-covered in wooded areas, so he supposes it’s better to keep an eye out for any wild animals. The warmth of the evening experience with her parents still radiates through him, but their conversation is now focused on their next destination; Chase and Hannah’s house.

Chris, in the driver’s seat, is more animated than ever. She was preparing him carefully for the meeting, the anticipation of how her best friend and brother would perceive him hung in the air. She explained on the drive from the airport earlier that day that she’d “promised Hannah she would meet you before the wedding.”

As they rolled to a stop at a red light, Charles cast a quick glance over to her, feeling the weight of her guidance. “What should I know about them? Any advice on how to impress them?”

“Gosh,” she’d said, “I don’t know. Hannah’s easy. Chase is weird, but, just talk about cars or something. He really likes, um,” she pauses. “He races with you… from Australia, I think.”

Charles mulled over the comment, committing it to memory. There’s only one Australian he can think of racing against. “Daniel?”

“Yeah,” Chris nods. “Daniel Ricciardo. He really likes him.”

Charles absorbs the information, realizing that Daniel would serve as an excellent conversation starter about racing. The light turns green, and she checks the intersection for a comically long amount of time before proceeding. He does everything he can not to laugh, and is hit with a sudden wave of gratitude towards the way he’s been wholly and completely welcomed into her life like this. The night of endless nerves aside, the excitement of learning all the chapters of her life that predate him is something he isn’t going to take for granted.

– – –

They arrive at Chase and Hannah’s house for a relatively relaxed night in, greeted by the warm glow of a bonfire crackling in the backyard. The air was filled with the smokey scent of burning wood, and the soft lull of a country song pouring from a speaker.

“Hi!” Hannah calls before the couple is even halfway through the back gate. “Hi, Hi, Hi, oh my gosh!” she squeals, hurrying over to the gate to greet them. “It’s about fucking time,” she adds, pulling Chris into a tight hug. You’d think it was the first time they’d seen each other in weeks, but Charles knew they were together just that morning. “And you,” the blonde continues, “must be Charles. Unlike everyone else around here, I’ve actually heard a lot about you,” she laughs.

He laughs too, accepts her open-arms for a hug. “I’ve heard a lot about you, too.”

“William Chase,” Hannah calls to the man standing over the fire, a stoker stick in one hand, a glass beer bottle in the other. His head shoots up from the embers when he’s called. He holds his beer up as a welcoming gesture, but Hannah isn’t satisfied. “Get over here!”

He meets them halfway through the yard, in a part that’s unlit by either the house lights or the glow of the fire. “Hey,” Chase says with a relaxed smile, pulling Chris into a side hug, and then approaching Charles with an outstretched hand. “You must be Charles,” he says, the two exchanging a laid-back handshake before pulling each other into a bro-hug. “It’s good to meet you, man. You want a beer or something?”

“I can get it myself,” Charles assures, “just tell me where they are.”

“Don’t be silly,” Hannah scoffs, “You’re a guest,” she insists, and it is already halfway up the steps of the back porch. “You want one, too, Chris?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Chris smiles, her hand finding his in the space between their bodies, interlocking their fingers and pulling him over to the fire Chase has already returned to.

Chris and Charles find a cozy spot on the porch swing that sits in front of the firepit, a shared bench that seemed to be the ideal medium between two chairs and sitting on top of each other, perfect for family introductions. They sit side by side, thighs brushing against each other, his arm around her nursing his beer. Charles keeps the swing moving with his feet, but Chris has one leg crossed over the other, the base of her beer bottle leaving a darkened ring of condensation on her jeans everytime she picks it up.

“You want another one, Chris?” Chase asks, shaking his empty beer bottle by its neck when he heads back inside for another round, and per Hannah’s request, to check on Reid.

“I’m okay,” Chris smiles. She’s turned fully sideways, now, her back resting against his shoulder, both legs off the ground and onto the other end of the bench. “I’m driving home,” and then she cranes her neck to look at him. “Do you want another?”

“No,” he says, because he’s pretty sure he can already feel her dozing off while they swing, is almost certain it’s going to end up being him driving back to her place tonight. “Thank you, though,” and then he kisses the top of her head, pulls his arm out from under her body weight to wrap around her front lazily. She adjusts to his adjustment, leans into him and finds a comfortable curve in his chest.

Even among the scent of wood and fresh cut grass and smoke, he’s found himself in the perfect position to smell her hair without even trying. He thinks he’s finally nailed her shampoo, coconut and rose, he’s almost sure of it.

“Mate, Chris was telling me you’re a Daniel Ricciardo fan?” Charles asks, looking for a way to break the ice into a more active conversation, utilizing the very few tools he has at his disposal. Chase and Hannah seem both way lower-stress than Bill and Cindy did, but he'd still like to leave tonight knowing he made a good impression. Or, at least leave knowing he tried his hardest to make one.

“Yeah, man. We actually started racing at COTA in 2020, and Renault and Daniel did this thing with our team, gave me a little good-luck message and stuff. It was real cool. I’ve been a fan of him since.”

Surprised, and trying to find common ground, Charles asks: “Do you follow Formula One?”

“You know, I tried after the whole Daniel thing, but,” he shrugs nonchalantly, takes another swig of his beer and leans back in his seat. “Honestly, all respect, but there’s just nothing quite like the roar of a stock car at Daytona for me. It’s like thunder, man.”

Charles nodded, an eager grin on his face. He doesn’t know much about NASCAR, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t study up on it during the flight over. “The sound of those engines at full throttle must be crazy. It’s V8’s, right?”

“Yeah, V8. What are y’all running? Isn’t it hybrids?”

“Yes,” Charles laughs. “They’re crazy with the engineering. Basically, you have a turbo V6 combined with energy recovery systems… it all helps keep us lightweight.”

“That’s another thing that blows my mind, how light your cars are! I know you pull crazy downforce, but I swear it’s a totally different game on an oval, dude. Our cars are like, thirty-three hundo.”

Charles’ eyes go wide. He knew they were heavier, but that’s like… it’s more than double, he thinks, or has to be close to it “Oh, my God!” He laughs, taking another sip of his beer. Chris chuckles, too—he feels it in his chest. He also feels the nonsensical shapes and patterns that she traces over his sweatshirt sleeve while he talks, the way she seems completely lost in toying with the fabric.

“I know, you guys got fuckin’ feathers compared to us!” Chase gins, joining in on the laughter.

Charles leans forwards a bit, and when he does it, Chris adjusts her positioning. She’s somehow managed to slide gracefully down until she was curled up on the wooden bench, resting on her side with her head on his tights. She’d found a makeshift pillow in his lap, and he couldn’t mind it less. “Yeah, I don’t know,” he says, checking his watch so that when Chris asks him later tonight ‘when did I fall asleep?’ he can give her a proper answer. “We are all about precision, crazy aero packages. It’s not just about speed and downforce, it has to be managed so perfectly.”

“There ain’t no time for precision when you’re wheel-to-wheel at Talladega. It’s all about survival. We’re out there swapping paint and shit. Bumping and drafting are all a part of the game.”

“How crazy is that?” He questions, even though he doesn’t have more than an educated guess as to what drafting is. “The way the air affects your car when you’re always that close?”

“I mean, I guess I don’t notice it all that much because I’m so used to it, but yeah. We’re always pushing the limits, especially in the high-banked ovals. Drafting is both your best friend and your worst enemy.”

“Drafting, mate,” he peruses, taking a shot in the dark when he says: “that’s like getting the slipstream, no?”

“Exactly, yeah,” Chase nods. “All drag reduction shit.”

“It’s crazy, when we’re wheel-to-wheel, we’ll do about anything not to make contact”

“It’s ‘cause your shit weighs ten pounds,” Chase laughs. “It’ll fly away if there’s any contact.”

They go on like that for some time, comparing technicalities. There are few things Charles appreciates more in life than actually getting to sit down and talk racing with someone—true, technical, perfectionist racing. There’s no investigating what the problem with this year’s car is, or what he hopes happens next season. It’s just… how they work. How different formula racing is from stock cars. He feels like this is something he can actually talk about, a conversation he knows he can contribute knowledge to.

“Riveting stuff, boys, really,” Hannah finally interjects, sitting down into her camping chair. Charles hadn’t even noticed she’d left, but here she was popping the bottle cap off another beer, taking a big swig. “You put Chris to sleep and I’m on my fucking way.”

Charles stills, his movements suddenly gentler as he tries to crane his neck to see her face. “She’s asleep?” He asks, half-whispered.

Hannah nods, and Chase chuckles, “Dude, she’s been out cold for like half an hour.”

He smiles down at her, shaking his head, and then checks his watch again. 10:36pm, she didn’t even make it an hour and a half, poor girl. Charles brushes her hair out of her face and carries on with the conversation. His mind is completely absent to the fact that his fingers continue their exploration of her hair, a natural masterpiece of unruly waves. Each strand has its own rhythm, defying any form of order. The curls become even more pronounced as they cascade toward the nape of her neck, dancing freely with the erratic breeze.

At the root of her bangs, there’s a stubborn cowlick, and one side of her face-framing cut has a mind of its own, constantly threatening to tumble into her eyes. Amidst all that delightful chaos, small, intricate braids intermingle with the curls, held together with tiny brown elastics. His touch is reverent as he selects one, playfully twisting it around his finger while he speaks.

With painstaking care, he slides the elastic from the braid, and doesn't miss a beat in conversation with Hannah and Chase as he carefully unravels it. Their words dance in the air around him, and by the time he becomes cognizant of his actions, he’s on the last little braid.

When it’s time to turn in for the evening, when the conversations are more yawns than actual questions, Charles wakes Chris up softly. He runs his hand up and down her upper arm slowly, squeezes her elbow to coax the sleep from her heavy eyes. “Baby,” he hums softly.

Chris stirs with a groan, sits up and stares back at him with empty eyes, like she has no clue what year it is. He bites back a smile at the state of her, raises his brows and waits for her to say something, to scold him grumpily for waking her up. Chris Elliott is a force to be reckoned with when she’s woken up, and it’s something you only have to witness once to be scared of ever seeing again. She doesn’t scold, though.

Instead, a soft smile pulls on the corner of her lips. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he smiles back. She’s already leaning against the far armrest of the swing, curling up into the corner like she’s going to go back to sleep. She probably will, it’s been far too easy to wake her up. His hand finds her knee, thumb rubbing circles along the denim fabric. “Are you ready to go home?”

She nods, but her eyes are already closed again. Chase is already dousing the fire with water. Hannah’s already inside cleaning up. Charles opts to leave her there, sweet and peaceful, while he collects her things from inside.

It’s the first time he’s been in the house, and it's just as ambient as the backyard is. The warm glow of the dimmed lights accentuate the charm of their modern-farmhouse decor; wooden shelves bathed in the soft radiance, full of potted succulents, framed photographs, and small artworks that offer a glimpse into their lives. Large, strategically placed windows allowed for a gentle cascade of moonlight to slow, making the entire place feel calm and serene.

Chris has been wearing a pair of Hannah’s slippers since she went inside for the first time, so the first thing he looks for is her shoes. He finds them in the entryway, just outside the door, and finds her keys on a small table there, too. Her phone is on the kitchen counter, the purple silicone case practically glowing against the black granite countertops and pristine white cabinetry. In the living room, he notices a little figure lying on the couch—Reid, he assumes, lies nestled under a Cars blanket, a scene of pure childhood innocence set against the backdrop of grown-up sophistication. The entire room excludes warmth, thanks to an oversized gray sofa and a plush rug, all enhanced by the dull LCD of the quiet television and subtle nighttime lighting. Behind a throw pillow on the same couch, he finally uncovers her purse, carefully slipping it out so as to not disturb the sleeping child.

“It’s not worth the fight sometimes,” Hannah explains, but Charles didn’t need one. He remembers the age of begging to have a sleepover on the living room couch, to stay out past his bedtime and watch shows on the big television. It was the highlight of his weekends, sometimes.

“He’s adorable,” Charles says. “I love the blanket.”

Hannah chuckles softly, crossing her arms over each other to hug her small frame. “It’s his favorite movie,” she shrugs. “Wants to be just like his dad.”

He puts all of her things in the car before he even attempts at getting her into the car. Everything is neatly put into a place, her address typed into his GPS by Hannah and plugged into the aux on the radio, and she still sleeps on the swing.

His humor buoyed by the absurdity of the situation, Charles decided to start with the slippers. He gently slid them off her feet, one by one, and handed them over to Chase, who watched on with the bemusement of an audience at a comedy show. With a soft, nearly conspiratorial tone, Charles whispers: “Chris, baby,” planting a tender kiss on her forehead.

In response, she produces a mumbling symphony of incoherent sounds. “That’s not French, mon amour,” he chides playfully, prompting a breathy laugh from her lips. His aim is to keep her here, to prolong that delicate state of semi-sleep where she tattered between slumber and annoyance. “Let’s go home, yes?” he inquired.

Chris, in her hazy state, offered a subtle nod. Charles grinned, heart painfully warm, and said, “Could you help me out?”

In response, she obligingly wraps her arms around his neck, and he effortlessly hoists her into his arms, carrying her in a bridal-style embrace. He guides her to the waiting car with gentle steps, Chase strolling alongside them to open the car door. She stirs when he sets her in the seat, fastening her seatbelt.

Chase shuts the door and the two of them exchange a classic, old-as-time bro-handshake-goodbye, a silent acknowledgement of both their meeting today and their future introductions all weekend long.

It’s not until they’re at her house, the soft purr of the engine falling silent as he properly parked in the driveway, that she’s really awake. Her sleepy eyes flutter open with the automatic cab lights.

He moves swiftly, circling the car quickly to open the door for her. As she grumpily emerges from the car, he gives her an encouraging smile. “Go get ‘em, killer.” he playfully whispers, his hands working against her shoulders. She meets him with a death-glare he could never possibly be afraid of.

Chuckling, he plucks her phone from the passenger seat, locks the car before following her up the driveway.

The journey inside concludes shortly in her room. Chris has an early morning ahead, and a late night, too. Charles marvels at the resilience; doesn’t know how she’ll manage tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day. As she settles in under the comforter, he can’t help but watch her for a moment, all sweet and sleepy and beautiful, like always.

Soon enough, the exhaustion creeps up on him, too, and he finally succumbs to sleep’s gentle embrace, entwined with the woman he finds himself cherishing more with what feels like each passing breath.

– – –

He wakes up when the soft chimes of her alarm break through the morning darkness. The dim glow of the clock on the nightstand reads 6:30 am, and it was clear that daylight has yet to pierce the veil of a southern winter outside.

He can’t help but appreciate her attempts to tiptoe through her morning routine. The effort is commendable, really, but the old, creaky wooden floors and the protesting door dram betray her intentions. He doesn’t mind, though—How could he? Any moment with her, even early morning ones where she bustles around the space, is better than a moment without.

Lying in the cozy bed—which, by the way, her bed is so fucking comfortable, he allows himself to fully wake up, knows that her morning rituals would be far more entertaining than any dream he could have cocooned in sleep.

His sleepy gaze watches her as she moves through the bedroom gracefully, her face illuminated by the soft glow of dawn creeping in from the curtains. He smiles at the little sounds and routines that make up her life, the ones he never gets to see, to savor. Watching her move about is a special kind of beauty, one that makes him feel lucky, insanely so, to experience a life with her in it.

Leaving the comfort of the bed, he ventures out into the kitchen. He knew she had an early start, a long day away from him, and he was determined to steal every extra moment they could share.

She’s finishing her lunch, packing it into her backpack when he sneaks up behind her, snaking his arms around her middle and hugging her from behind. “Hi,” she laughs, turning around in his arms to face him properly.

He gives her a kiss and her lips taste like her morning coffee. He marvels at the ease with which she can make someone’s day—make his day.

She grins, and there is a special kind of mischief in her eyes when she playfully warns him: “Promise you won’t get lost in the woods and eaten by a bear today,” she says, and then, because she can’t help but add it, “At least wait until I’m there to witness it.”

With a chuckle, he teases, “I can always outrun you, they say you only have to be faster than the other guy.”

Her laughter bubbles out, filling the room, and his chest, with warmth. “You wouldn’t let me get eaten by a bear,” she replies.

He pauses for a minute, then playfully concedes, “Well, I might.”

“Wouldn’t.”

“Would.”

– – –

After she left work, he found himself helpless in the war against sleep. What was the point if she wasn’t around to keep him up? If nothing was around to keep him up? It was almost eight o’clock before he finally got up for the day, feeling refreshed and ready for yet another evening of introductions.

His breakfast consists of a simple serving of toast, nothing anywhere near extravagant, but enough to stave off his hunger. Not to mention, he’d rather not make a mess in her house with the very first thing he does all day.

After breakfast, he heads out for a run, decides he’s going to try and navigate his way around without getting lost. He fails, miserably, because it seems like everywhere he looks has the same landmarks—trees, trees, and more trees. The cool air is invigorating, though, and the rhythmic pounding of his feet on the pavement keeps his mind clear, gives him a certain appreciation for the fact that he doesn’t have to keep his eyes and ears open for anyone who might be watching him. No, here it’s just him, just Charles. There’s nothing special about it, which is what makes it so fucking special.

Returning home—to her home—he enjoys a shower that washes away the cold sweat of the run. Dressed and ready, he ponders his plans for the rest of his day. It’s hours still until Chris is home and the festivities really kick off.

As if on cue, his phone buzzes, Chase’s name popping up on the Caller ID. Hannah had insisted on him exchanging numbers with both of them the night earlier. Just in case Chris decides to fuck off to another country again without telling us, she’d said.

He answers, listens to Chase’s offer to join in on a round of 9 holes with him and Bill, considers it for only a moment, and accepts enthusiastically. He’s in the passenger seat of Chase’s truck within the half-hour.

“Survived the dragon, I see?” Chase greets Charles with a smile, clearly still amused over the previous night’s encounter.

Charles chuckles. “Just barely.”

– – –

The day was pristine for golf, with a brilliant blue sky overhead and a gentle breeze. Charles has played at some pretty impressive courses around the world, but something about this one felt special. The green really wasn’t all the lush, and the views weren’t outstandingly picturesque, but. But, there was something that felt so special about it.

Bill, the most experienced of them, begins the round with an expertly executed swing that has Charles chuckling under his breath. His ball soars through the air, landing with pinpoint accuracy in the fairway. Chase follows with a powerful drive that seems to only gain momentum as it sails. It gracefully lands not far from Bill’s.

Charles takes his stance, feels a bit like a circus clown amidst his partners, but steadies himself nonetheless. He draws the club back, manages a swing with a surprising degree of finesse. The ball leaps from the tee and manages an astonishingly straight shot that lands in a… respectable position. He’s not too far off Bill and Chase.

Charles would never call himself a golfer, but he’s grateful for Chase and Bill’s attitude—the way they are constantly pretending he’s better than he is, blaming any mistakes (he has a beach full of sand in his shoes from all the traps) on the fact he’s rented his clubs from the course.

As they stroll down the lush, sunlit fairway on one of the holes, Charles decides he’s brave enough to start a conversation, rather than just participate in one. He turns to Chase as he addresses the only topic he can think of. “So, tomorrow’s the big day, huh? You’re feeling good?”

Chase grinned, golf club slung casually over his shoulder. “Dude, more than anything. I’ve been trying to marry Hannah for a long time. I’m lucky, you know.”

Bill nodded, “Y’all are all but by now.”

“Anything specific you’re excited for?” Charles questions, can’t help but be curious about the details. “Or just a big ball of excited?”

Chase chuckles. “I’m really looking forward to the ceremony. The moment I see her walking down the aisle, it’s gonna be somethin’ else.”

Charles smiles. He wasn’t expecting such a romantic answer, not given what he’s experienced from Chase up to this point. His answer feels more like something you tell your closest friends, not your little sister’s boyfriend you’d just met for the first time the night before. “How about the holiday? Any special plans?”

Chase’s eyes lit up into a laugh. “Ah, the honeymoon. Yeah, we’re going somewhere… sometime. I don’t know, it’s not at the top of our list of things to get done.”

“All I know, Son,” Bill, whose been quiet for what feels like some time now, offers up some wisdom, “Tomorrow’s gonna be real overwhelmin’, but remember it’s your day. Savor all of it.”

Chase nods in agreement, “Don’t worry, Pops,” he chuckles, pats Bill on the shoulder, “I’ll savor it all.”

“And if you get nervous,” Charles laughs, “feel free to let it mess you up out here,” he says, gesturing to the fairway. The whole trio shares a laugh, but Charles seriously wouldn’t mind if the other two suddenly forgot how to golf.

With Chase excusing himself to meet up with Hannah at the rehearsal dinner venue, Charles is left with just Bill, the pair heading up to the country club’s restaurant for a late lunch. The ambiance inside is refined, and they sit next to big floor-to-ceiling windows that offer views of the manicured greens and vast wooded area they’re situated inside.

As they settle into their table, Charles takes a sip of his water, wiping the condensation from his hand on the side of his pants. He can feel the weight of the conversation that’s likely to follow—there’s no Cindy or Chris around to keep him in check like there was last night.

Bill, cutting right to the chase, speaks in a casual tone. “So, Charles, how’re you finding our little corner of Georgia? I reckon it’s awful different from Monaco.”

Charles smiled, appreciating the comfortability of his voice. Maybe Chris was right, he was getting himself worked up yesterday over nothing. “It’s different, for sure,” he laughs. “Home is home, but there is something about the calmness here, the open space. It’s refreshing. And meeting everyone, it’s been great.”

Bill, who’s been nothing but stern in his expression for the entire time Charles has known him, seems to soften, even if just slightly. “I gotta admit, I was a lil’bit… cautious when I first learned about you and Chris. Fathers, y’know, we worry.”

“I can imagine,” Charles nods. He understands. Of course he understands. “You have my word, I have pure intents. Chris means a lot to me.”

Bill seems fully contemplative now, his usual sternness fully replaced when he looks back at Charles. “She’s real happy with you from what I can see, and her brother tells me you treat her real well. That’s the kinda stuff that matters to me.”

His chest feels stupidly warm at the remark. If Chris is half as happy as he is, they’ve really got something here. Something real. Scary real. “I care about her deeply, Sir, and I want her to be happy, too.”

Bill chuckles under his breath, shakes his head softly. “You’re not seventeen, son. You can call me Bill.”

“I care a lot about your daughter, Bill.” It’s an easy thing to do, he thinks. There can’t be a person in this world that knows her and doesn’t care for her. Not when everything about her makes him believe in luck, in something otherworldly—Gods or guardian angels or invisible strings.

“See?” Bill questions, picking around what’s left on his plate with his fork. “We’re already buddies.”

– – –

Bill drops Charles off just before Chris gets home from work. He’s not in the house for ten minutes, is still moving around the kitchen searching for a glass to fill with water when the door swings open. Chris enters the kitchen with Reid, half a dozen things in her arms and a familiar four-year-old in tow. “Hey,” she greets, lifting her bags onto the counter next to him, setting down all of her belongings.

“Hi,” he greets, hand finding a familiar space on her lower back, pulling her closer to him, to lean down and give her a quick kiss. “How was your day?”

“Long… and chaotic,” she sighs, forcing a weary smile onto her lips. Charles frowns. Searching her eyes for elaboration, she just shrugs. “Reid, say hi to Charles,” she introduces. “Charles, this is my little tornado, my nephew, Reid.”

Reid looks up at him with bright eyes and a mischievous grin. “Can I call you Chuck?”

Charles laughs. “No, you can call him Charles,” Chris answers on his behalf, before he gets the chance to tell the kid to call him whatever he wants.

Reid rolls his eyes. “Hi, Charles,” he huffs. “Auntie Chris says you’re gonna help me get ready.”

Charles smiles warmly. “That’s what I hear. It’s quite a mission to accomplish, do you think you are up for it?”

Reid nodded enthusiastically. “Totally. I’m almost five.”

Chris chuckles, and Charles’ eyes shoot over to her when she does. Hearing her laugh isn’t enough, he needs to see it, to share in it. “Good luck with the tie,” she tells him. Charles winks at Chris, grins down at the kid in front of him. “Reid, you like Cars, right?”

Reid’s eyes go wide, his head snapping over to look at Chris, who matches his expression with a smile on her face. He turns back to face Charles, “How did you know that?”

“So, it’s true?”

Reid nods apprehensively. “I love Cars. My Dad is in Cars 3, y’know? He’s got, like, a awesome race car.”

Charles feigned surprise, “No way! That’s like being a superhero.” He leans down conspiratorially, speaks quietly, just to Reid. “Do you know Lightning McQueen?”

Reid’s eyes gleamed with excitement as he launched into a passionate monologue about the Cars movies, the story, and the characters—paying a special interest to Chase’s automotive-self in the animated world. Charles listens with genuine interest while Chris quietly prepares a snack for the boy.

He gets ready while Reid eats, moves around Chris in the bathroom. “Sorry, sorry,” she says, using her entire arm to move her stuff off one side of the sink vanity. “I’m taking up your side,” she continues, pulling her curling iron out of her hair, carefully cradling the steaming strands. Charles smiles. His side. He kisses her softly, then— mindful of her unfinished makeup and hair. She smiles out of it, gives him another quick peck, “what was that for?”

He shrugs, reaching for his hair gel, “Just because.”

– – –

They get to Dahlonega right at five o’clock, thanks in massive part to Charles’ ability to comfortably drive above the speed limit, and in small part to Chris’ ability to finish her makeup while Charles does a poor job at avoiding potholes.

Every event this weekend takes place at the same place—a vineyard about thirty (if you speed) minutes from Chris’ house, but it’s nothing like what he would usually think of as a quote-en-quote vineyard. It’s more of a… barn put in the middle of a field, but. It’s beautiful nonetheless.

“How do I look?” Chris asks as they walk up the long drive from the parking lot to the barn. She runs her hands over the thighs of her jeans, straightening them out.

“Do a spin,” Charles says, and she does. “Hot,” he nods, smiles. Chris rolls her eyes. “Always hot.”

Hannah is running around with a woman wearing a nametag—the wedding planner, he assumes—like a chicken with its head cut off when they get there. Reid bolts away from them as soon as Chase is in his eyeline, chatting with his groomsmen around the bar. Charles trails behind Chris, hand interlocked with hers, as she makes her way over to a frazzled Hannah.

She greets them with a smile, swiping her hair off her shoulders and opening her arms for hugs. “You look beautiful,” Charles comments, kisses either of her cheeks.

“Oh,” She laughs. “This is new.”

Charles laughs, pulling away from the hug, “Sorry.”

“Oh, no. It’s fun,” she says, looking to Chris. “You should’ve dated someone French a long time ago.”

“He’s not French.”

“But y—”

Chris cuts her off. “Monégasque,” she continues. Charles smiles meekly. “And very proud.”

The setting sun cast a warm glow over the venue as the wedding rehearsal began. Charles found himself sitting in the second row, behind both Chase’s family and with the rest of the partners of the bridal party.

They’re orchestrated by the meticulous woman with a name tag from earlier, carefully moved through the motions of the ceremony tomorrow. Charles watches with quiet amusement as they navigate each and every step with precision. The officiant guided them through the script, the words blending into a hum that surrounded the ceremony space.

He partakes in the bland small talk with the other partners—how beautiful, how exciting, how sweet—all the stuff that random strangers with no present connections have to talk about. Charles can't help but glance at Chris intermittently, catching her eye and exchanging silent conversations that only they understand. She’s just so pretty up there, her brown curls cascading off her shoulders while she holds two mock-up bouquets of flowers. She bounces in place, practically, obviously half as tired and bored with it all as he is.

As the run-throughs progress, he can feel her restlessness like it’s his own. Her wide eyes betray her thoughts when, without words she tells him, this is so boring.

He chuckles under his breath, meeting her gaze with the minute raise of his brows, an unspoken agreement passing between them. So boring.

The repetition of the steps continues, though, each run-through blending together into the next. Charles and Chris share more glances, continue to communicate the same sentiment of impatience to a point of amusement. In the stolen moments, he finds solace in the connection, a reminder that even the most orchestrated events can’t stifle their shared sense of humor.

As the rehearsal finally drew to a close, the sun dipped below the horizon casting a warm, golden hue over the gathering. The group dispersed, heading towards the dinner that awaited them.

When Charles catches up to Chris, she’s talking with the best man—Ryan, who the wedding planner kept asking to take this a bit more seriously. He seems nice enough, brother-y enough. Charles thinks he probably has a few good stories about Chris, even more about Chase.

“Everyone always thought we had a thing going,” Chris tells him after the introduction has finished, while the two of them wait at the bar for their drinks.

His brows raise, leaning back off the bar to scan the room for the guy. “Do you want me to be jealous?” He asks, lets his hand rest on the small of her back, thumb moving smoothly against the fabric of her top.

“No,” she says, but the smile on her lips tells him she’d be entertained by the sight of a jealous version of him. “I just didn’t want you to hear it from someone else this weekend.”

He nods, picking up the drink that’s set down in front of him/ “Well, did you?” He asks, taking a swig of the dark liquor.

“Did I what?” Chris asks, moving her drink closer to her, stirring it with a little black straw.

“Did you guys date?”

“Oh,” she shakes her head. “Never.”

Charles nods. “Shame, I was going to put on a show.”

The welcome party kicks into full swing after the satisfying sit-down meal. Laughter and chatter fill the rustic barn, the air buzzing with the lively energy of the gathering, of the weekend. Charles, having eaten the entirety of his dinner earlier, finds himself following Chris as she seamlessly navigates the crowd.

The burger truck, stationed at the edge of the venue, offered a tempting array of late-night treats. The scene of grilled meat wafted through the air, enticing those who weren’t around for the earlier, intimate dinner.

The barn was alive with the murmur of voices, the clinking of glasses, the bursts of laughter. It seems like a million people fill the space, a million strangers—a mix of extended family and friends and coworkers and distant relatives and even distant-er friends. For him, all of these faces are unfamiliar, and he relies on Chris like a lifeline to guide him through most of the interactions.

She effortlessly leads the way, introducing him with a warmth that mirrors her nature of being. She moves through the place like she owned it, with a grace that seems to come naturally to her, connecting with friends and family alike. Everyone seems thrilled to see her, absolutely beside themselves. He understands them, even if he doesn’t know them, and observes with quiet admiration her ability to make everyone feel at ease.

She seems to flourish in social settings, her personality shining brightly. She greets old friends with hugs, shares jokes with cousins, compliments grandparents’ outfits, and introduces him to each and every one of them, punctuates every interaction with her infectious laughter.

He’s always felt like he’s more of a one-on-one guy, that his connections are better made independently rather than in groups. Chris, though, could lead a crowd anywhere with this unwavering confidence. She doesn’t make a single misstep all night, navigating the whole evening perfectly, makes an evening he’d spent the majority of outside his comfort zone anything but unsettling. With her, his words feel valued, important, intelligent. He’s content to be her partner in social settings longer than anyone should be.

It’s long past midnight when they finally get back to her house, the fatigue of the day well-settled on their skin, casting a convincing sleeping spell that made the prospect of a comfortable bed a welcomed one.

The house is silent, the hush of the night hugging them as they reach the bedroom, the weariness of their bones palpable. Anything but falling into the comforter seems like quite the ambitious endeavor.

The comfort of the sheets cradles them as they sink into the mattress, a shared haven offering respite from the busy weekend. “Next time I come here,” Charles yawns, the effort of the evening present in his voice, “we are doing nothing.”

She must be more drained, he thinks, she’d worked almost a whole day before this, but contently, she responds with a gentle hum, snuggled up close to him. “Mmm,” she murmured. “Perfect.” The simplicity of doing nothing seems like the perfect plan, a promise of unhurried moments and the luxury of just being together. He wants more of that. He wants more of her.

– – –

He wakes up for the first time that morning, if you can really call it waking up, to the shift of the bed as she climbs out of it. He doesn’t check the clock, doesn’t even hear more than the creak of the floor before he’s back asleep. He wakes up for the second time, and you still probably can’t call it that, to her standing over him, fingers running through his hair. She gives him a kiss and comments on something he can’t hear through sleep.

The third time he wakes up that morning, it’s to the ringing of his phone on the bedside table. Her name is on the screen, a photo of her grinning in front of a statue in Monaco and holding a thumbs-up. 8:34, his phone reads. The sun is shining in through the opening in the curtains.

She’d forgotten the steamer on the living room coffee table when one of the other bridesmaids picked her up two hours earlier. He says he’ll bring it, asks if the girls want coffee, swears he remembers her order. She texts him the other three girls’ orders. Within the hour, he’s riding with the wedding planner on a golf cart from the parking lot to the bridal suite with four long-winded coffees in one hand and a steamer in the other.

He doesn’t know what he was expecting when he walked into the bridal suite, but it wasn’t what he found. The chaos hangs in the air like a sweet perfume. He weaves between makeup artists, hair stylists, and bridesmaids to find Chris, talking with Hannah and a makeup artist about what’s about to be painted onto the bride-to-be’s face, fulfilling her maid-of-honor duties.

Chris looks up quickly to scan the room, eyes landing on him and immediately returning to the conversation at hand before doing a double-take, a heavy sigh leaving her lips when she recognizes him and the objects he carries.

“Hey,” she greets, takes the steamer from his hand and kisses him. “You’re a lifesaver, thank you,” and she kisses him again. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he laughs, pulls a coffee out of the cardboard cup holder and hands it to her. “Your hot dirty chai with one shot of espresso, oat milk, and salted caramel.”

“A man after my heart,” she says, taking a sip of the drink. He winks—anything more and he’d blush bright red—and continues reading the orders off.

“Brown sugar oat milk latte with blonde espresso for Hannah,” he says, pulling it out and handing it to the blonde and pulling out the next one. “This is the… Iced matcha latte with soy milk and strawberry cold foam, and the…” he holds up the cupholder, one drink left in it, “Caramel brûlée latte.”

The groom’s house—which is where he’s affectionately sent to after the coffee delivery—is a direct contrast to the bridal suite. College football plays on the television, the cheers and groans of the game providing a lively soundtrack to the prelude of the wedding. The girls were all half-ready, but the guys are still shoveling breakfast foods into their mouths on the leather sofa.

Noon arrives, and with it the collective decision that it was time to actually start getting ready for the wedding. Chase and his groomsmen needed to be ready for pictures at three, which meant that Charles and the rest of the bridesmaid’s boyfriends needed to be ready to be anywhere but the groom’s house at three.

Between the laughter and the beers and the arguing over the best way to iron a shirt, there’s a knock on the door. He doesn’t even bother to look who it is, assumes it’s a relative of some sort. When Ryan, the never-had-a-thing, you-don’t-need-to-be-jealous Best Man has a hand on his shoulder, telling him “Chris is outside, she wants to talk to you,” he meets the guy with furrowed brows.

He finds her just where Ryan said she was, pacing outside on the concrete patio, ready head-to-toe for the wedding procession. He can’t help but be struck by her beauty, the way the delicate fabric of her dress accentuates her figure, the way the color complimented the glow of her skin perfectly. Her hair is pulled back off her face, revealing the curve of her neck, her subtle makeup highlighting her features.

He feels like he’s seen her a million times by now, in a million different ways, but there was something almost ethereal… angelic about her in this moment. The nerves in her eyes and the tension in her shoulders only add to the charm, make her feel more real, more human.

He’s never looked at her and thought she wasn’t beautiful, but there are moments where he’s particularly struck by her allure. This is one of them.

As soon as she lays eyes on him, her words rush out in a torrent. No hello, no pleasantries, just— “I’m freaking out, Charles. This speech… I’m just. I’m terrified I’m going to mess it up.”

“You’re not going to mess it up,” he promises. He’s heard Chris’ maid-of-honor speech probably a dozen times by now, and she’s a different level of nervous every time. This might be the most nervous he’s seen her about it, though. “Can you… can you listen to it, please?”

He nods, his gaze steadying her shaky one. “Of course, let’s hear it.”

She unfolds the tiny, half-crumpled piece of paper out and delves into her speech. He focuses on her words, the genuine affection and admiration for Hannah present in each and every syllable. When she finishes, she meets his eyes, a mix of hope and anxiety in hers.

“Well?” She asked, her lip caught between her teeth.

Charles smiles. “It’s amazing. You are going to do great.”

“Are you sure? Because the part where I talk about Colorado—”

Charles shakes his head, puts his hands on her shoulders. “It’s perfect,” he says, gives her a quick kiss. “You’re perfect.”

She sighs, relief visibly washing away the tension. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He grins, “You would still do great. But I’m here anytime you need it.” She gives him a quick hug, and he can feel the gratitude seeping through the squeeze, so he makes it last just that moment longer. He just, he gets such a surge of pride that he gets to call her his, that he’s lucky enough to call her his girlfriend. “Go knock ‘em dead,” he laughs.

When three o’clock finally does roll around, the wedding party separates to head off for pictures, and Charles, along with the other significant others, joins the convoy heading down to the ceremony space. The excitement among the group was palpable, everyone connected in some way to Hannah and Chase’s love story, ready to witness and be a part of their union.

The ceremony starts at four, and hell if he can’t stop catching Chris’ eyes the entire time. He doesn’t think he’s ever enjoyed a wedding quite like he’s enjoying this one. Chase and Hannah are lovely, and the officiant’s words resonate with sincerity, but he’s less attuned to the details of the ceremony itself and more absorbed in the captivating spectacle that is Chris.

Her laughter, musical and infectious, is all he hears when the entire place laughs, and her discrete attempts to wipe away tears, to pretend they aren’t falling, melt his heart entirely. Even the way she plays with the ribbon on the bouquets she holds—something so small and trivial, it all captivates him.

He finds himself swept away by a tide of emotions, some messy kaleidoscope of feelings that defy articulation. There’s something magnetic about her, an irresistible urge to kiss her that seems to linger in the back of his mind, always. It’s all lined up for him, a million synchronized harmonies that underscore every interaction.

The changing colors of leaves and the smell of rain on a pine patio, the heartbeat of a conversation, a light in every room. His perception of his own emotions, the way he feels about this fucking woman, it’s so clear it becomes cloudy. Every stolen glance and shared smile is this integral part of their connection, this thing that he can’t let go of.

There’s something so fucking special about her, and he can’t make sense of any of it.

Cocktail hour is at five, and the whole family—everyone at this entire wedding he knows—are off doing ‘golden hour’ pictures. Charles lingers by the bar, stuck to the outskirts like a wallflower.

He’s suddenly hit with a wave of insecurity. It’s not often he’s put somewhere completely on his own like this, almost always has someone he can use as a lifeline if he needs to. Everyone here seems to have known eachother forever, and he feels like an intrusion on their camaraderie, worries that if he does manage up the courage to start a conversation with someone, they won’t understand him, or worse—he won’t understand them.

His social battery is just… it’s drained. It’s been a long couple days of mingling with strangers, of trying to impress everyone. He’s ready to just curl up somewhere with Chris and enjoy the limited time they do get to spend together—alone—this weekend.

Maybe then, with some more fucking time, he could sort out all his nonsensical thoughts. Make some sense of his own feelings.

At the reception, he’s seated at the family table with Bill, Cindy, and Reid. Chandler is there, too, but she and her girlfriend Lex seem about as interested in him as they are the dinner menu. They give him a passing greeting, an introduction, if you can call it that, but content to leave it at that.

They’re only a few feet away from the head table, where Chase, Hannah, and the bridal party are sat. So close, but when you’re as drained as he is, when you’ve been prim and perfectly proper for more hours than you can count, just want to be with the one person around who you don’t need to impress… Chris’ nameplate might as well be a quarter of the way around the world.

There isn’t some big announcement or introduction for the bridal party, they just filter in after the conclusion of pictures with the rest of the family. Chris is one of the last to filter in, and finds that the rest of the bridesmaids and the groomsmen are all settled in their seats. Chris doesn’t head for her seat. Instead, she makes a bee-line for her family table, for Charles, who is scrolling through his phone and nursing what she thinks is Chase’s signature drink.

She sneaks up on him, but he isn’t startled by her arms when they wrap over his shoulders. “Hi,” she greets, leaning over to kiss him. It doesn’t take her but a second to feel how tense he is—it’s in his shoulders, in his kiss, in the way he just keeps spinning the liquid around his glass instead of drinking it. Most of all, it’s in the way she doesn’t get even a hello back, just a focus smile and a kiss. Her brows furrow in concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “I’m just tired. It has been a busy couple of days.”

“I know,” she nods in agreement. “I was thinking, we should get super drunk tonight, skip brunch tomorrow, and then do nothing all day. What do you think?”

He laughs, and she feels the vibrations in her hands. “Deal,” he says, holding out his hand to shake on it right as the DJ comes over the microphone. Ladies and Gentleman, Chris’ eyes go wide, practically death-dropping into a squat so quickly she nearly loses her balance in her heels. Charles laughs, but she doesn’t miss his hand reaching out to steady her. If I can direct your attention to the barn door, let’s all give a warm welcome to the reason we’re all here tonight. I’m pleased to introduce for the very first time as husband and wife, Mr. and Mrs. Elliott! Even from her squatted position, she still claps and cheers for Chase and Hannah.

As the clapping dies down, the instrumental of their first dance song transitions in. She shifts on her feet, from one heel to the other, and thinks about how graceful she would have to be to attempt to slip her shoes off in her current position. When she looks to Charles, she’s met with the clearest what-the-heck-are-you-doing look she’s ever been on the receiving end of, and a nod that all but picks her up and puts her in his lap itself. His arms slip around her waist lazily, like it’s where they’re supposed to belong, like a magnet pulling itself to the fridge.

As their first dance song starts, as Chase and Hannah sway around the dance floor as husband and wife, Charles places a soft kiss into her exposed shoulder. The warmth of his lips sends a chill up her spine. “Are you cold?” He whispers, and she shakes her head even though she’s been chilly since she put the dress on that morning—who the heck chooses one-shoulder bridesmaid dresses for their outdoor wedding in December? He runs his hands up and down her arms to warm her up with the friction. “You can have my jacket if you want.”

“I’m okay,” she says.

“Okay.” Another kiss, and then he rests his chin on her shoulder. “Let me know.”

After the first dance, Hannah and Chase give a short welcome speech, thanking everyone for coming to celebrate with them, for making their day so perfect. And then, it’s time to eat.

She offers to pull over a chair and eat with him, and then offers again silently after Bill makes a joke about how we won’t bite him. She doesn’t like to see him like this, so tired, so drained. “I’m good,” he says, “I promise.”

“Okay,” she says, but her return to the head table is hesitant, and she keeps an eye on him the entire meal.

– – –

“For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Chris, and for those of you who do, you probably knew this was coming,” Chris laughs nervously, microphone in sweaty hands. She can’t believe she has to follow Ryan’s speech. He had the whole crowd laughing until they couldn’t breathe. “I’m not one for public speaking, which I know you all find very funny considering my career choice, but when your best friend since the oh-so tender age of seven is getting married, you throw caution to the wind.”

She looks at Charles, but has to look away quickly. Just imagine me in my underwear, he’d told her before she got up here. She can’t do that. She can’t look at Hannah or Chase, either, though, or else she’ll burst into tears. So, she just looks at the piece of paper in her hand.

“So, let’s talk about Hannah. We’ve been through it all together, from the back of a Sunday school class at Grace Haven where two little girls made their first friend, to hiding from customers in the kitchen of the Pool Room listening to Mr. Gordon tell us about his ‘shine days. We weathered the storms of adolescence, rocked the awkward phase, and somehow managed to make it out on the other side with our sanity intact—well, mostly,” the room chuckles. Hannah laughs, and Chris thinks that maybe she can look at her—she can’t, can already feel the tears welling, the frog in the back of her throat.

“But,” she cracks, “It’s not about the trials we faced in high school, it’s about the triumph that is happening right now. Chase and Hannah, standing—sitting—here, about to embark on a new chapter of their lives.” Chris turns to the next page of her notes, hand shaky when she does it. “It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows getting here. Life threw us some curveballs, as it tends to do. But Hannah, she’s a force of nature. She faces challenges head-on, and with the strength of a thousand warriors.”

Chris’ eyes catch Reid, sitting on Bill’s lap next to Charles. He’s not paying any attention, but what four-year-old would? Instead, he’s swinging his legs back and forth, tapping Charles’ knee with the toe of his shoes everytime. Charles takes turns grabbing one of the attacking feet, his eyes unbreaking from her, before letting Reid wiggle it away, laughing softly at the interaction each time. “My best friend became a mom at nineteen, and there wasn’t much about it that was easy. But, like I always do, I watched her rise to the occasion, and I’ve never been prouder. I work with five-year-olds every day, and as similar as Reid is to Chase, he’s his mother’s son, and I would pay a million dollars to have twenty of him in my classroom. And Chase, you were there through all of it. When things got tough, you didn’t run; you stood by her. You became not just the guy she loved, but the rock she could lean on, the partner she deserved.”

Chris nods, continuing. “Some might say they don’t have the most conventional love story. But what is love if not a journey? One that involves bumps and twists and unexpected turns? Chase and Hannah, you’ve proven that love isn’t just for fairytales; it’s for the real, messy, complicated, and beautiful moments of life.”

Chris looks past Hannah, to Chase. It's just as hard to maintain eye contact with him. Harder, maybe, because he looks like he’s about to cry, too. Chris can count on one hand the amount of times she’s seen her brother cry. “Chase, my big brother,” she laughs through a tear.

“Fuck you, dude,” he says back, through an equally tearful laugh. Hannah’s hand runs in circles on his back.

“You are so lucky to have Hannah. Everyone in this room knows that she has this magical quality about her—this remarkable ability to make even the most unlovable people feel like the center of the universe. I’ve seen her do it time and time again, watched her sprinkle her own special kind of magic everywhere she goes.”

“Hannah,” she says, turning fully to face her best friend, abandoning the piece of paper she has memorized and replacing it with Hannah’s hand. “You are my confidante, my partner in crime, my source of strength, and my beacon of light. You are the kind of friend who not only stands by people in the good times, but also holds you up when life gets a little bit wobbly,” Chris feels a single tear fall down her cheek, and then another. She sniffles softly. “Thank you for helping me through the wobbles,” she squeaks. “You’ve been my sister as long as I’ve known you, Han, I’m just glad it’s finally official.”

Chris turns back to address the crowd, raising a glass of champagne to two of her favorite people. “To Hannah and Chase. May your love be modern enough to survive the times, but old-fashioned enough to last forever. Cheers to the messy, the beautiful, and the happily ever after you both so richly deserve.”

Hannah wastes no time enveloping Chris into a bear hug, rocking back and forth on their feet. The lace and tulle from Hannah’s dress scratch against Chris’ arms, but she doesn’t mind. She’s too busy trying not to cry onto the fabric while the rest of the tables clink their glasses to her speech. Chase is next with the hugs, a stupid one that’s stronger than Hannah’s.

“Dude,” he laughs, “you didn’t have to make me cry.”

Chris sniffles. “I love you.”

Chase pauses, squeezes her a little bit tighter. “I love you, too.”

Speeches are followed by the father-daughter and mother-son dances. Chris sneaks back over to the family table during the latter, makes her dad move over into Cindy’s seat so she can sit next to Charles. He has a fresh glass of the same drink from earlier, and is nursing it the same way he did the first one.

“You know,” she says, checking the state of her makeup with her phone’s camera. “You’re going to have to pick up the pace if we’re getting wasted tonight.”

He laughs, the side of his foot bumping against hers under the table. She leans her foot back on the heel of her shoe, toys with the hem of his slacks. “Is that right?” He spins the drink, talks into the bottom of the glass, but she’s not fooled. His ears are red at the simple action.

“Yeah,” she nods. “Let me show you,” and then takes the glass from his hand, downing what’s left without a scowl. It’s dark liquor. She loves the burn.

Chris is like… she reminds him of that battery rabbit. A constant source of energy. She’s practically bouncing off the walls, giddily introducing him to anyone they come across that he doesn’t already know. She’s just so personable, and the buzz she’s gotten from the champagne and the stolen sips of his drinks only make her more lively. She knows everyone here, he’s sure of it, but she could befriend a brick wall if it gave her five minutes.

It’s impossible for even the most sullen people not to feed off her energy—everyone is swallowed up by her laugh, every conversation brightened by her presence. She’s so fun to watch that he wonders if he’s dreamt her up, created a figment of his imagination in the shape of someone just so good. God, she’s good.

They survive the newlywed games and the anniversary dances, even make it all the way to the cake cutting before it becomes an Elliott family party—which, if you didn’t know, is synonymous with a drunken rager. As soon as Hannah swipes a finger full of frosting across Chase’s cheek, it’s game over.

Drinks flow as freely as laughter echoes, and the dance floor is nothing more than a playground for a bunch of drunken idiots. Chris and Hannah, seasoned dance partners, showcase their moves with infectious enthusiasm, dancing the blurry line between elegance and idiocy.

When the music slows, though, she’s always finding her way to him, heavy arms around his neck, his around her waist. If they know the song, they take turns butchering the vocals and giggling until the other person kisses them.

“So, how was my speech?” She asks soberly, swaying along to the tune of some slow song he’s never heard of.

“You made that speech your bitch, baby,” he slurs, even though he has a million and one questions about her speech.

He’d heard it. So many fucking times, he’d heard it, and not once had he heard the ending. He thought he heard the ending—he did hear the ending. It was just different. Shorter. Sweeter. Didn’t put a confused knot in his stomach. Thank you for helping me through my wobbles. A remarkable ability to make even the most unlovable people feel like the center of the universe. He doesn’t want to entertain them as connected, to live in a world where they’re connected.

“You think so?” She beams. He can’t ask when she smiles like that.

“Yeah,” his tongue feels dry in his mouth—cottony. He’s bothered, and he doesn’t understand why. “It was great, very personal.” He shouldn’t let it bother him. It’s a fucking speech at a wedding for people he barely knows. It shouldn’t bother him, it shouldn’t rot his insides, the concept that two sentences could be in any way related to one another. It shouldn’t bother him, really. It does, though. And he can’t stop himself when he’s half-drunk the way he could if he was sober. “Everything you talked about… it’s all you two, huh?”

“Yeah,” Chris nods. “Hannah’s done a lot for me, y’know. I’m sure we’re like you and Joris, just. I cry more than you.”

“Even the, uh…” he clears his throat. “Even the whole thing about, um…”

“Charles,” she laughs, brows furrowed in a way he thinks only he could perceive.

He sighs. “You know that you’re the kind of person who is easy to love, yes?”

She doesn’t look at him when she nods, or when she smiles, or when she kisses him. “I know,” she mumbles, and it’s the most unbelievable thing she’s ever said. The easiest lie he’s ever spotted, but it’s even clearer that she doesn’t want him to push on it, so he doesn’t. He’s smart enough to know when it’s time to just dance with his girlfriend.

– – –

They wake up the next morning disgustingly hungover. Like, stare at the white ceiling for twenty minutes talking about how hungover they are and praying they don’t throw up, hungover. Her ceiling is textured, and the pattern repeats every foot-or-so like it’s been stamped on. That’s how hungover he is.

He showers while she makes them prairie oysters, and despite how absolutely horrifying it looks, sounds, and sells, he manages to find enough trust in her to force it down with a grim scowl. Fuck, it’s disgusting. Horrifically so.

They take an uber out to the wedding venue to retrieve Chris’ car, and she gives directions back to the Dawsonville Pool Room with her eyes half closed, sunglasses over her eyes. Everytime he looks at her he thinks she’s turning green.

The owner recognizes her as soon as they’re walking through the door. Charles doesn’t understand a single fucking word the guy says. Chris orders “two Bully Burgers, but I swear to holy Heaven if you put slaw anywhere near my plate you’re gonna see the Devil, Mr. Gordon.”

He responds in something Charles could technically call English, and Chris shakes her head, a smile pulling on her lips. “I’m serious, he’ll back me up,” she says, thumb pointing to him. “He’s not from around here, you’re just another stranger.”

The greasiest, sloppiest, most mediocre burger he’s ever eaten is put in front of him five minutes later, and he feels like a new man after. Still absolutely strung out and exhausted, yes, but like his stomach is content to stay inside his body.

Later that afternoon, when they’re both half asleep on the couch, some stupid sitcom playing as background nose, he’s still thinking about her fucking speech from the night earlier. It’s still bugging him. “Baby?” he mumbles against the skin of her shoulder. He doesn’t even know if she’s awake to answer.

“Hmm?” She hums.

“We do not have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but. You are a very lovable person, I think.” He couldn’t give any specific examples of what makes him so sure of this fact, he honestly couldn’t. But isn’t that proof enough? That just her being is enough to answer the question.

“Babe,” she stretches against him, speaks through a yawn.

“Sorry,” he says. “Sorry, I just. I don’t know.”

“No, it’s okay. We can talk about it.” She adjusts, if just slightly, so that it’s easier for her to look at him while they speak. “When everyone has the same complaint, all your old friends and old boyfriends tell you that you’re too much or too little, you realize maybe you’re the crazy one.”

He doesn't like that reasoning. He thinks it’s a load of bullshit, actually. “Why do you think of yourself in this way?”

Chris laughs. “It’s fine, really.”

“It’s not,” he says, because he knows it’s a lie.

“It is, because I’ve come to terms with it. I accept it.”

He frowns, hates the way she seems so content with this. Like it’s something that is even kind of rational. It’s not, he knows. He pauses, can’t even come up with something to say to her level of absurdity. “I don’t think you should accept that.”

She turns away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears, and laughs softly. “I’m sure you don’t.”

“You are not unlovable.” She’s not. She’s not. He knows she’s not. He knows, he knows, because of rain on a pine patio and leaves that change colors. He knows, because if she was unlovable, he wouldn’t love her. And he does, he does love her.

Wait.

“Well, we’ll see. Everyone always sees.”

No, hold on. Wait. His stomach is tangled, flip-flopping and fluttering like every butterfly this side of the Atlantic has suddenly taken up residence in his insides. You don’t love her, you idiot, he thinks. But he does. Fucking… His heart races. He hopes to God, pays to something he’s not sure he believes in that she can’t feel it against his chest. That he can get away with it. “See what?”

She shrugs. “If I knew, nobody would see it,” she laughs. He laughs along, too, but it’s so forced that it sounds like some pre-recorded bit. She’s so casual about all of this that he feels like he needs to pinch himself. It doesn’t make sense, he can’t wrap his mind around it. But Chris, she’s comfortable enough with her bull-fucking-shit ‘facts’ that she can pull her phone out and scroll through it while they wrap up the conversation. “And before you ask, ‘What if I don’t see anything?’ like everyone else but Hannah always asks, nothing happens.”

“Nothing happens?”

She opens her fucking email. He’s in love with her, and she’s opening her fucking email while telling him it’s not possible. “You win, I guess.”

“I win you?”

“I mean, I don’t like to consider myself something that can be won,” she says, and he rolls his eyes. His heart is beating so loud he thinks the neighbors can probably hear it. “But for lack of a better word… sure. You win me.”

He nods. There’s nothing more he can add to the conversation, not now. Not when he’s just ran face-first into a brick wall of I love you. Fuck. Fuck. He’s totally in love with her. What the fuck is he supposed to do now?

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#ma&thp #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst #f1 edit #f1 fic #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 imagine #ferrari f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x oc #scuderia ferrari

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kivrumi · 5 months ago

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⭑ᡣ𐭩"₊SEVEN 𐙚⁺˚

chapter 2 - burger queen

FEM!READER × ? JJK

ʚ PAIRINGS : Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna, Toji Fushiguro, Ino Takuma, Higuruma Hiromi, Kento Nanami, Naoya Zenin ɞ

{ it is not stated here who the reader ends up with, the story is to find out.. }

NON-CURSE AU | COLLEGE AU

꒰ SUMMARY : How did you end up in such a mess with various guys? From strangers, friends, and crushes to ex-boyfriends and enemies. How did, what you thought was simple, life turn out like this? And who exactly were you to end up with?

꒰ WARNINGS : SLOWBURN - NSFW 18+ - mature & sexual themes - smut / lemon - language - violence - mentions of obsessive behaviour - sub/dom mentions - angst andd fluff :3

SEVEN MASTERLIST

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"He got you too huh.." Shoko says as you lay on her lap. You were in her room, which to your surprise was quite very pink. She stroked your hair as you had just finished telling her about all the new experiences you had today

"Noo he don't got me, I swear" You accidentally lied. Does he have you? You've only met once? Then again, Toji Fushiguro has never uttered a word to you yet has you wrapped around his finger. Seems like Toji and Satoru are just two silly crushes you've gained, due to your lack of love life. You've had a boyfriend once, it ended quite confusing but that was years ago, you being 16 at the time.

"What every girl says, just don't fuck him"

"Why would I fuck him, I don't just fuck anyone"

"Liar, if Toji walked into this room right now and told you to get on your knees you wouldn't hesitate"

the silence was all you managed to hear after that sentence Shoko just dropped.

"True.." you reply, late. Lifting your head from her thighs, you sit properly beside her and ask "You know, you've never talked about your own love life to me" You see Shoko glance at her fidgeting hands and a small smile that seemingly grew on her face just for it to vanish as she answered you.

"My love life is boring, don't bother asking about it" Obviously you were fully convinced but it was better to leave it at that than pester her with a variety of questions, making her supposedly uncomfortable.

—

You didn't know many guys in a romantic aspect. Well actually, none apart from your ex. The only thing that has been carrying your love life is a pathetic crush on a popular evil man. So why were you so invested in making it work? Why were you back on this side of college? Why were you staring daggers into him currently seeing his arm wrapped around a girl? You know her, she's in your class. She would constantly talk about Toji, about how he never notices her and how she wishes to have one conversation with him. I wonder how she was able to achieve those wishes...

She was stunning of course, but you and everyone else knew that in a week or less, she is getting replaced. Why does every girl let that happen, and why do you find yourself craving for just a day with him?

"You're back here? Only been a day and you missed me. Thought the next time I'd see you was when I planned to stalk you in your psychology class" Turning behind you to locate where and who had just said that only to be met with the blue eyes of Satoru Gojo. Satoru Gojo... is he becoming someone in your love life too? Or were you going to be his week-long obsession, seems like the trend that goes around for hot popular boys like him.

"Right..." you then slowly turn your head back to Toji, for some odd reason not wanting to miss a moment to see the way he is. The way that he acts. Is he trash for the first few days he lets you be with him? Or does he love bomb you and leave you till you feel empty?

"Toji? Seriously?" This guy seriously doesn't hold back on his words, does he?

"What about him..."

You then slowly head to your main hangout spot. Only for a curious Gojo to follow you around this time.

"Seems like someone has a crush"

"No i don't. And don't interfere with my love life, that shit is personal you know"

"So I'm not in your like, love life radar? Because if I am I would like to know about your love life" You give him a confused look and halt your movements as soon as you two reach the outdoors.

"Seriously? Gojo I don't know you nor am I interested" A lie but you don't find yourself being with someone so stuck up, as much as it hurts to say it. Your eyes are still only on Toji. "Now you can stop following me around" and with that, he obeys like a little puppy and leaves as you walk further down, and see a familiar abandoned cafe. You still constantly go there, alone, with others or sometimes they are already there. It's your group spot. Opening the broken tilted door, you're met with bean bag chairs, empty coffee cups, and two sleeping figures.

"Choso, Kento, get UP!" you then lightly kick the bean bags they're on, but due to their deep sleep you have to kick harder.

"eugh, what are you doing" Choso groans as he rubs his eyes. You then roll Choso lightly over till he falls off the bean bag as you plop yourself on it. Despite the fact, there were multiple other bean bags.

"just claiming my spot back..." It was just your favorite bean bag because it was your favorite color, Choso knew this. "and payback for not answering your door last night when I wanted to come over to your dorm room, you did promise me."

"But I did text you that Kentos thing took longer than expected"

"But you could have just told me before I stood at your dorm room door like an idiot"

Choso just groaned due to his lack of excuse as he sat up from the floor, realizing Kento had gone back asleep. "When are you going to get a new roommate?" I ask, Chosos last roommate got kicked out of the college for vandalizing and blackmailing the teachers. You still wonder what kind of blackmail they had on them, too bad it was all confidential. Choso was pretty scared of his last roommate and now he has been alone in his dorm for at least a month, this is why he is always either begging someone to come over or invading other people's dorms.

"Apparently there is another guy in another dorm building who has been by himself for a good 3 months, I think they are looking to put me with him"

"aawh does that mean you're not going to be down the hallway now?"

"I guess so"

You two just stay quiet for some time, thinking to yourselves. As you are wondering what kind of burger you're getting, later on, Choso's thoughts are more complicated. He was thinking of you, and how much you have impacted his life since the day he met you. How he gets up in the morning with you in mind and falls asleep to the thought of you. But you were just his best friend, right? He does not like you like THAT. Right..? Yes, you were gorgeous and breathtaking, he remembers when you went up to him as a kid and he was mumbling his sentences. He was just a shy kid, that's why he went red and flushed from the fact he was speaking with you. When you got your first boyfriend at 16, he wasn't jealous, he was rather frustrated if he would treat you horribly. And when you were heartbroken for the first time, why was he happy? Why was he happy you no longer was in a relationship, it's not like Choso would ever want to take it that far with you.

"Maybe a cheeseburger," You say, still fighting your other thoughts "Or maybe I should just ditch the burgers and.. get ice cream" It was a difficult choice. After all, you weren't that hungry, but there was no food at home. Maybe you should just beg Shoko to make you something despite her always being so busy with her science classes. Choso just lightly laughs at your words before replying,

"Come with me, let's get you a burger and ice cream"

—

"Your fucking it up aren't you," Choso says as he watched you take the fattest bite of your burger. You two sat at a fast food shop as you got the food he promised you. You swear that you will pay him back but you both know that's false, as you're broke with no job, with some funding your mother sends over to you for basic needs. Choso has a part-time job at a local campus cafe, you rarely visit him though due to the stale coffee they sell. But Choso being broke or not wouldn't mind spending his last pennies even if it was for this fat ass burger.

"Hell yeah" you reply, as Choso ate his dainty fries.

"These fries are real good" Choso says with a full mouth

"don't speak while you're eating.. you got to be etiquette!" you tell him, as you shake your head sideways.

"We are at a Burger King"

"A real Queen will always stay royal, no matter where she is"

"my bad, I'll take notes"

you hum, acknowledging how Choso is dependent on your knowledge. You disliked the silence after that, so you got to sing

"I'm at Burger King with my Burger Queen..."

"what-"

"Can I get a large fry.. shes vegan ple-"

"why do I have to be the Queen?"

"Because you're my Queen Choso, plus it fits more perfectly since you're vegan too yumming on fries"

Choso is silent, wow. You really were intelligent.

—

The next day, now you mindlessly walk to an open field on your school grounds, you don't know why but lately you've been exploring the entire college. Last year was a total bust, always in your dorm room playing video games and watching anime. You sit down on the ground, near a wall as you place your head onto it and stare into the distance 'Wait, am I near the soccer pitch?'

"You know, I was actually not expecting to see you for a third time in a week. Did you come back here for me?" Looking to your right, and above you there stood Satoru Gojo "isss this seat taken?" He jokes as he points to an empty spot on the empty field. He sits there anyway before you can even think to reply

"This part of the college is nice, I should come here more often but, that just means I'd have to run into you all the time. that just sucks" You're not actually that mean, you're just afraid of rejection so you resort to joking bullying. He puts a hand where his heart is, suggesting your words hurt him. His actions makes you take note of his shirt, a blue soccer shirt with a big 9 in front.

"You checking me out? And you swore you wouldn't fall for me?"

"That's not it, don't get your head so twisted, i was just looking at your shirt. I may not be a soccer fan but boy I would like to own all of their jersey's"

"Then why didn't you just say the word baby?" he asks, hands ready to lift his shirt over. Just as he revealed his abs you pulled his shirt back down, and you might start meowing at the sight of his bare chest. "Aawh why'd you pull my shirt back down"

"I do not want to indulge in your whore antics"

"But Toji is a whore you can get down with? Okayyy i got it"

"e-excuse me?!" you say as your face starts to heat up

"Yesterday wasn't the only time i saw you eye fuck him sweetie, was a bit hurt when I was coming out of the locker room to guide you to your dorm and be your knight in shining armour to see you eye fucking another whore. Or does that make you one too?"

Speechless, you were. You knew it was obvious but you didn't like the idea of someone else guessing your crush, that just means maybe Toji realized too. You must look so desperate.

"Sweetie you look shocked," Gojo says, smiling at your frozen face, he gives a chuckle and then says "Don't worry, I won't tell the guy. Matter of fact, ill give you a chance to know him"

"...chance to know him?"

"yeah, I mean you don't seem like a party girl but im sure by now with all your stalking you would know how frequently Toji hosts parties since he has a big fucking ass house near the college"

"I do not stalk him-"

"Anywho, just come with me and you can have the chance to talk to him"

"Wouldn't he be mad a random guest came over?"

"Nah parties are supposed to be full of randos, plus... who can deny a sweet sexy girl like you" Due to his words you push him and he falls on his elbows as he chuckles at your reaction "It's on Halloween tho, so wear a costume"

"Gojo... why are you even doing this for me?"

"I don't know, maybe you read me wrong and I am actually a decent guy? Actually a decent guy wouldn't send a sweet girl to Toji Fushiguro, but if that's what you want that's what you're going to get" You nod at his words, did you really read him wrong? Was Shoko complaining without giving him the benefit of the doubt? "Mind telling me your name now sweetie?" You then answered him with your name and he smiled at it "Cute, still keeping your contact name as Sweetheart though" He gets up and stretches his arms up, looking back at his phone to check the time "I'm ten minutes late to training, you really got me distracted, hard to bother for anything else where you're around sweets. Also, put it in your address info, picking you up at 8 pm on Halloween night, see ya" You watch him walk away from you, as you remain seated on the grass floor. Blush remained on your cheeks, why did you always get so flustered? Is it just because you have always lacked this kind of attention, and now you find you're addicted to it and always wanting more? It does seem like it.

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@kivrumi do not steal / copy / reword / translate my work

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hellowoolf · 10 months ago

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on strawberries and masonry: chapter v

series summary: you atone for your sins, now, in a jackson garden, learning to care for soft things and yourself. joel miller is a lethal sort of similar, and misery loves company

you live in jackson and meet joel and you’re both damaged little babies and fall in love (but i’m drawing this shit out🫶🫶)

warnings: angst, age gap (reader late 20s/early 30s, joel 50s), maria is pregnant, the dinner party trope™️, joel picks reader up (but its actually been foretold that he can hold any weight ever, so don’t even worry about it), jealous!joel, possessive!joel, SMUT !!!!!, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected piv, breeding kink (don't...even start), creampie, FEELINGS !! (as always, let me know if i missed any !!)

word count: 7.9k

authors note: an epilogue will be (probably) on the way but this is our last full chapter !! gag !! this is my first ever series and i'm so elated i decided to write and release it. this last chapter drained me mind body and soul and i don't know how i feel about it but i really hope you enjoy <3

series masterlist | masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

the realization of your feelings for joel, that against all better judgment you’re tumbling somewhat unceremoniously in love with him, nestles itself between your ribs to scratch at your bones. it’s a tolerable ache, at first, and because you refuse to give into anything, you let it remain while joel fucks you on his tongue and fingers. you let him cover your skin in his spit and your slick and the marks of his fingernails, and inch closer to the doom of loving him, believing yourself capable of handling it, willing yourself to handle it. and you do. mostly.

what comes first is a need for him you’re unequipped for. his refusal to fuck you properly again (a promise he has continued to hold himself to) becomes increasingly unendurable, and you’re pushed beyond even the lust for him you’d fought against months earlier. you need him, daily, at least, pulling him behind the stables or coming to slam on his door so you can live another day. you want to please him, to mend him, to save him, even though you know you are incapable, and you try what becomes embarrassingly often to get on your knees for him, but he always denies you. yes, this is the first symptom of your almost-love, a wanting that reaches your innermost self and expands beyond the edges of you.

the second symptom is anger, a nefarious deviousness against him, a spiteful resentment for the small ways he rejects you. you are less cautious with him, nipping at him on patrol or in the dining hall with your own sexuality, constructing heavily unsubtle innuendos and whispering them in his ear. you’re looking to punish him, so irrevocably that he’s compelled to kiss you again, to fuck you again, but until now you’ve failed at ensnaring him fully. you barely recognize yourself this way; you have never been one for this wild sort of flirting, the obvious kind, but you succumb to it regardless.

the softness of him is the worst part. you skim your hands up his thighs and pull on the loops of his belt to tempt him to you in the ways he still refuses to give, and he’ll deny you orgasm as punishment, but still he materializes on your porch, or sits you next to him in the aftermath of the pleasure he does allot you, wet with your arousal, and lets you tell him about your life, leaves you breadcrumbs of his. he likes that spot he found on your neck that night when you cut the strawberry, wraps his palm around the base of your skull to feel the warmth of it, and with his callouses circling your skin you know that this is the most awful thing, the most terrible. it’s shameful, really, that he should show you this kindness when you’re this close to complete devotion to him.

“what d’you think, little wolf?”

little wolf. maybe this trumps even his hand on your head. last week, with three fingers in your dripping cunt joel had stilled his hand in you, let you thrash against him while he smiled into your hairline, and you bit hard into the flesh of his shoulder, leaving the marks of your canines there. easy, little wolf, he’d grunted into you, and he felt you pulse when he said it, so he’s kept the name, uses it often.

“hm?” you lift your head from his thigh, bare legs curled up along the couch while he sits back on the cushions. he’d tugged you from your walk to your garden into his home, licked into you while you pulled on his hair, made you come on his sofa like he’d savor the stain. his hand comes from around the back of your head to your face, thumb sweeping across your chin and along your bottom lip. you take it in your mouth and suck, eyes on his as his own mouth drops open.

“bout the jam. you want me to show you how to make it?” he repeats, voice low and broken as you swirl your tongue along the pad of his thumb. you’d brought the strawberries up again, how many you have and the white fuzz they grow; noah helped you remove the heaters from inside the greenhouse as temperatures rose outside, but a chill remained, and so your plant began a slow death. you’re left now with a small batch you like the idea of preserving in sugar and heat. you like the idea, too, of joel teaching you things, of him watching you learn. you nod slowly. “when?” he tilts his head as he asks. you pull from his finger and trail little unhurried bites along his palm, down the inside of his wrist. you want to suck his blood.

“tomorrow? evening?”

he nods, eyes hooded over as he watches you. slick drips between your thighs and sticks them together, wetting over the dried come he’d pulled from you minutes ago. you smile against his skin, teeth grazing his pulsepoint.

“you a good teacher?”

he grins and grips back at your head, tilting your chin up to his face as he leans down to you. “a real delight, i swear it.”

your noses bump and you want to kiss him (the whole of it is you’d like to suck his tongue into your mouth and hold it there, feel behind his teeth, let him spit onto your tongue), another vice he’s denied you since that first time. he sees it in you, this wanting, so he threads his fingers through your hair to hold you in place. the tug at the roots makes you rub your thighs together and he inches closer, close enough to whisper onto your lips “go home, little wolf,” and pulls himself off the couch. he’s practically limping with how hard he is, the strong outline of his cock casting shadows as he walks away from you, and it only serves to make you wetter, but because you’re certain he won’t let you help him (you tried in the stables this morning, hay softening your fall to your knees, but he’d hauled you back up with a gruff quit it) you pull your pants back on and retreat to your home.

stepping down his porch you bring a hand to your stomach, joel’s refusals of you burning green and orange there. the flames heat your skin and lick through your fingers, and the warmth indulges the part of you that hates him, but the rest of you (the part that loves him, lord help you) bends under the pressure. you drop your hand as you approach your house and find tommy leaned up against the fence post. panic seizes you for a moment, but you tamp it down sharply; surely, he can’t know where you’ve come from, surely he can’t smell him on you.

“isn’t this a little past your bedtime?”

he looks up at you with a smile as you come to stand fully in front of him. “yeah, well, i figured you’d be comin back from the garden right about now.”

something sparkles across your cheeks and you hope he doesn’t notice. “mhm. how’s maria doing? she’s in the, what, second trimester now?”

tommy nods, that boyishness and the pride of fatherhood puffing his chest. “that she is. she’s a wonder, i tell ya. don’t know how the hell she’s doin it. but the nausea’s gone away now, so she’s just restin up.”

“i’ve been wanting to come by and visit, but i didn’t know if she’d want me there.” it’s the truth; you’ve seen very few pregnant women in your life, and the magnitude of it frightens and delights you. besides, as little as she seems to enjoy your company, you suspect it’s a lonely existence, cooped up by the windowsill growing little arms and fingernails, and you’re self-aware enough to know you owe yourself to her.

tommy scratches the back of his neck. “well that’s what i wanted to come ask about, actually.”

you tilt your head. “me coming to visit?”

he hums. “maria’s been wanting some socializin, some…” he waves his hands around, looking for the word, “interaction. i figured you could come over for dinner.”

“just me?” you can’t help the surprise in your voice.

“...no. noah, too. and my brother.”

your throat dries out and you stifle a sputter. yes, indeed, dinner by candlelight with your most long standing existing friends, of which you have only two, a pregnant woman who sees you as you have been (a knife, with a girl on the end), and the man you’ve been fucking but not fucking (and you think you may be in love with him, also, but you try to keep this bit irrelevant). yes, yes. a fantastic idea! what a delight!

“i don’t…i don’t know, tommy. maria’s never been my biggest fan.” please, don’t make me come.

“come on, don’t say that.”

“i don’t mean any offense, i just don’t want to disturb her.”

“you ain’t disturbing her! i’m telling you she’d like it if you came!”

“tommy-”

“she barely tolerates my brother as it is, at least you’ll be there to occupy him. please?” and he asks with such sincerity, such unknowing of the things you’ve done to joel, and you know there is no way out.

“yeah, okay. okay. i’ll be there.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“so you’re goin to this…what is it? dinner party?”

joel’s halfway through a bite of something red and meaty when he asks, and you clamp on his moving jaw with your palm.

“don’t talk with your mouth full, sting, it’s not very southern gentlemanly.” he flips your hand away with a grunt and you bite your tongue between your molars to keep from smiling. “yes, i will be there.”

he shakes his head and leans back in his chair, looking out at the milling people filling the dining hall. “i still don’t understand the point of it anyway. the hell we playin family for?”

“joel, you are family.” his eyes flit to yours. “tommy’s family, i mean,” you clarify. he nods, some sort of relieved, the disappointed sort, you feel. you do your best to shake the stick of it, of that feeling, off.

“then why are you goin?”

“well, as it happens, i was invited. besides,” you snort, an unattractive thing but you let it pass, “i think your brother hopes i’ll keep you entertained.”

“entertained? you bein serious?”

you’re golden and beaming with how he looks at you, so incredulous and muscled and stiff with restraint from touching you, you can feel it. “i think his exact verbiage was occupy. he wants me to occupy you.”

“jesus.”

“buck up, cowboy, i’m a delight.”

“uh huh.” you think it’s meant to jab at you, that little grunt, but one end of his mouth turns up as he says it, an imperfect cover of his grin. “he ever do this kinda thing before? before i came?”

you bite the inside of your cheek and look to the ceiling. yes, he did, once. he’d been patrolling with pete mcneilson (a scrawny thing, squirrelish and panicked, but as young as you are) and decided you were fated to be wed, worked his hardest for weeks to set you up. he’d planned the dinner in hopes it would serve as a first date, but your halfway abnormality and owlish inspection of him—tommy’s words, really; he said you looked straight through the poor thing—had frightened him, you suspect. you consider lying, though these days such attempts rarely come out right with joel. you sigh. “yeah, once. maybe two years ago.” joel raises his eyebrows, urging you on. you sort of mumble, “it was a ploy to set me up, really.”

he drops his fork onto the plate, lets it rattle, and you nearly flinch. you’re somewhat surprised to find yourself expecting him to be angry, not that he’s under any obligation to be. really, you might like him to be angry, but he chuckles, instead, biting and smug as he is. “set you up with who?”

“don’t laugh.”

he raises his hands in surrender, grinning, still. “i ain’t, only askin for a name, baby.”

how often he uses it hasn’t dulled the sharp spasm of want that word seizes you with. “no laughing.”

“what did i just say?” he leans closer. “gimme the name, darlin.”

“pete mcneilson.”

joel does not keep his promise. he chokes on his laughter, heaves with it, tenses his ribs to keep it in the box of his chest, but it tears out between you anyway. oh, how gorgeous he is this way. “christ almighty, pete?” and then, shaking his head to himself, he adds “he’d be fuckin helpless.”

you scoff. “the fuck you mean by that?”

joel continues eating again, self-satisfied with some glorious victory that lays itself over his face. “helpless with you, darlin. you’re too damn vicious for him.”

you think for a moment. “little wolf, and all that?”

he clears his throat, laughter dead in the back of his throat but eyes still pinched a little in the tension of his smile. “somethin like that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you think it’s a mistake, going to this dinner, as you walk out your door, smoothing your jeans down your legs. you know it’s a mistake when you walk in and see them all, the whole lot, milling about tommy’s home, your varying degrees of relation to each clashing violently. tommy rushes through the kitchen, mashing boiled potatoes and checking on meat that pours steam from the oven when he vents the door, and maria watches his frenzy with a pleased sort of smile. you know she’ll tense when she sees you here, and so you allow her another moment of secluded safety with her husband, and look around for joel; you’re almost embarrassed at how desperately you search for him, but all of it drains from you when you find him standing next to the dining table with noah, being what could only be described as talked at. you’re filled instead with a gripping warmth, pink and new, at the sight of him, so big and disinterested. he may remain mostly secretive of his feelings with you, but joel is intrigued by you, this much you are certain of, and the picture of him this plainly un-intrigued makes you feel singular, selfish, important to him. yes, tonight is a mistake.

“i can’t believe my eyes, the town ghost has appeared,” noah calls out from across the room. you give him your best attempt at a grin, eyes pulled like gravity and lust to joel but working to keep them ahead.

“in the flesh,” you dip your head in a bow, and noah pulls you into a hug. over the slope of his shoulder you see joel, hip cocked and brittle, and you both have the same thought simultaneously, that he’s never held you like this, not once. for all his increasing softness, he has never held you like this. he’s already angry, you think, gnawing on the figure of you in noah’s arms. you pull away and position yourself between them, nodding to joel, mainly for show. “i haven’t seen you in ages, noah, how are you?” and your sincerity is barely there, so slippery with joel so close, but enough to convince noah.

“haven’t you heard? i’m a mentor, now,” he smiles with sarcasm and a little pride, too. “been showing jesse how we run the patrols and all.”

you’re trying, so hard you are trying. joel is watching you precisely, hawkishly. “so i’ve been told. you started on our patrol route your first day, i think,” and you gesture to joel, but you can’t look at him, knowing you’ll twitch too damningly in his direction.

“ah, yeah, yeah that’s right.” with a playfulness he continues, “of course, we’ve moved onto much harder routes now.”

in the compendium of near-family you’ve concocted in jackson, noah serves as the spirited sort of brotherhood you imagine was normal decades ago. when you met, skittish and cut open as you were, noah found great joy in poking at you; your hardness grated against the easy youth he’s clung to, and you think he liked the challenge of it. as you melted more into the jackson scenery, though, became more earnestly open to friendship with him, he learned instead to lend you this ease, the sarcasm and good humor. there’s something lovely about taking it up when you speak to him, though it’s difficult now, what with the distraction at your side.

you cross your arms. “oh have you? you’re that good a teacher?”

joel coughs next to you, nearly chokes, and you feel the gentle thrum again of a shared thought between you, of yesterday on his couch, of his thumb in your mouth, of the jam (oh fuck, that was meant to be tonight). noah pays no mind, a sweet thing but dull around the edges. “you know it, baby.”

with a squeak of his boots and a grunt under his breath, joel storms into the kitchen and out of sight. you and noah watch him go, your stomach leadened with his absence, and you pull a breath in to lighten the weight, but it’s no use. baby, baby, you know it’s baby that’s driven him away. you feel noah step a little closer to you.

“speaking of, how’s your patrol been? i can’t believe maria finally let you do it.”

you shift: joel, his hands, his voice, the man you killed for him. “they’ve been fine, i guess.”

noah bumps his shoulder into yours. “details, details! you spend every morning with the big bad wolf over there, i mean how does that feel?”

you tilt your head at him. “noah,” you scold.

he brushes off your tone, craning his neck to get a look at joel in the kitchen, continuing, “he seems fucking scary to me. doesn’t he scare you?”

you huff and shove him back, but he looks back at you like he really means it. you’re startled with the sudden urge to tell him the truth, blood and spit and all. it rises in your throat like bile, but you swallow it all back down. “no, not anymore. not…not really.” your voice is heady with the history you and joel have carved with lips and tongues, and you wonder how gory it would all become if you had indulged yourself fully, let the acid of your feelings spill out. as you think it, noah scans your face, looks through it, and you worry for a moment you’re caught, that the whole of it is spread plainly on your features, but tommy comes barreling out of the kitchen with food cradled in his arms, maria in tow, and you’re spared from any further investigation. tommy laughs out your name from the head of the table.

“jesus, i didn’t even see you come in, come sit down!”

you nod, give maria a smile, glance at the globe of her stomach. she’s glowing with it, hand along the curve of her tummy, and she does her best to smile back at you, as soft as she is capable of. noah pulls the remaining empty chair next to him out from the table and you sit, finding joel across from you, biting on his tongue and furious, quietly, desperately furious, looking between you and him. fuck.

like the love, joel’s fury fissures you in two. you are, most viscerally, delighted that joel should be so angry at noah’s arm around the back of your chair. he watches the space between you, daring it to close further, shoulders strung taut like you’re his to fuss over. your heart expands and knocks on your ribcage, arteries singing with the pleasure of it, and arousal pools between your thighs and sticks there.

toe to toe with this delight, though, contends your own boiling rage. how desperately his gaze claws at you serves as a reminder of the ways he denies you of him, of his cock and his tears and his lips on yours. you would gladly give him this, let him bark and snarl like a wild animal in some unhealthy possession of you, if he let you possess him back. but, as it is, the edge of his eyeline cuts you irreparably, marks you with an indictment of you as a lover and him as something less. it makes you fucking furious.

“ellie helps you a bunch in the garden, don’t she?”

you look up to tommy. you haven’t been listening. “hm?”

“ellie. i’m always seein her in the greenhouse.”

you nod, grin at the thought of her. “mhm. she’s been a real help, actually, and it’s nice to spend the time with her. i think a lot of the other kids are sort of afraid of her.”

joel’s eyes gleam over for a moment. he loves her, you know, and whatever rift exists between them has persisted. noah grips your shoulder and shakes it a little, and the shine dries on joel’s brown eyes.

“sounds like a bit of you.”

tommy barks out a laugh and you push noah’s hand away. “yeah, yeah.”

maria lays a hand on tommy’s bicep. “i think it’s good for her. she needs to get acclimated here. she’s not like the other kids.”

you all look to joel. he hasn’t said a thing since you all sat down, actually. he clears his throat, and the rasp of it goes down hard. “no, she ain’t.”

“from what i’ve heard she’s got a real sailors mouth, big brother. that your doin?”

joel’s face pulls into offense. “no.”

“well she musta learned it somewhere,” noah sings. so very sweet, so very dull. joel looks like he might skin him.

“she came like that.”

“came like that?” noah repeats.

this is so very off limits. tommy and maria give each other a look, and they glance across the table to share it with you. stop him, for the love of god. you turn to noah, plead quietly, “just drop it, noah.”

“what? i’m asking him about himself,” and then to tommy and maria, “i can’t ask him about his daughter?”

what began as a wholly good hearted attempt at conversation has morphed, you realize, into the same sort of bear poking noah used to do with you. he’s calling joel’s prickliness and raising him a teasing interrogation. but for all your similarities, joel is not like you now, he will not absorb it as you did. he stares, lethal and still, at noah, elbows on the table.

“come on, we know nothing about the man. i want to hear your stories! give me something.”

joel scoffs and you ask again, “noah, please.”

“how am i doing anything wrong here?” his words devolve into childlike mumbles, unused to being denied this way. “i’m trying to make some fucking conversation.”

voice resigned from subtlety, all desperation, you call across the table, “maria, how’s your pregnancy coming along? tell us a long story about it.”

tommy snorts with your bluntness, but all three millers soften with a breath. maria rubs along her tummy, smiling down and speaking, but you go deaf to it as noah brings his arm all the way up, slinging it across the line of your shoulders. and you know, like all the other touches and like his antagonizing of joel, that he means nothing real by it. but joel takes the world in as meaningful: all of it, including noah. you can’t bear to look at him, but even still you burn with the steaming point of his gaze, frenetic and livid.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“joel, jesus, slow down,” you call out as you hurry after him. tommy and maria had let you all loose to the jackson twilight, and with a smiling salute noah pranced off home, brushed already of the dust he knocked loose from joel at the dinner table. but joel eats up the ground in front of him with large, pacing strides, muscles corded in the back of his neck. you want to ride him, punch him in the stomach.

“go home.”

you catch up to him, grip a hand on the sleeve of his coat. “i will not go home. i want you to have a conversation with me first.”

joel doesn’t stop, drags you with him through the front door of his house by the fabric of his jacket. the door slams behind you and as the sound rings out joel whips around, boxing you against the wood. he heaves, little hurricane in his chest, casting shadows on you, even in the dark. “i’m not in the mood for a conversation.”

“yes, sting, i gathered that, but you’re being a fucking asshole.”

he huffs and looks to the ceiling, praying, you think, for divine intervention, or perhaps a lightning bolt to set the house ablaze. he can’t look at you when he asks it. “have you fucked him before?”

“jesus christ, no!”

he laughs, a little insane and swinging like a church bell. “seemed damn cozy in there to me.”

“yes! i’m sure we did! he saved me from bleeding out in the middle of winter joel, i told you that.” he adjusts his stance and peers back down at you, looking almost sorry with the thought of you red and unmoving, but because your fury is insatiable you poke him in the chest, adding, “besides, what if i had? what’s it matter to you anyway?”

he grips your wrist, asks incredulously, “what’s it matter to me?”

“no really, why give a shit? i promise i’ll still let you stick your fucking ring finger into my–”

“not another fucking word.”

the diseased part of you laughs with the irony of this moment, at the anger and jealousy you’d hoped for in the dining hall this afternoon; it isn’t exactly what you’d pictured. you sag with that thought. “please, baby,” his grip on your wrist tightens when you call him that, “throw me a bone. you seem entirely disgraced by the fact that we do…what we do, god forbid anyone found out, you won’t even,” you push a quick breath from your nose, “you won’t even waste the fucking energy to fuck me, kiss me. so tell me, please, what is your problem with–”

“you wanna know my fuckin problem? you drive me fucking crazy. i am clinically fuckin insane, darlin, and it’s your fuckin fault. beggin me to fuck you, fuck your face, i mean jesus, the things you ask of me.” and then, mainly to himself, “i ain’t strong enough for this shit. the hands and the eyes and the,” he remembers you in front of him, faces you again, “and the looking, i mean what—shit—what kind of fuckin look is that? you look at me like–like–”

“like what?”

“like you love me. you look at me like you love me. do you know how fucked up that is darlin? and i’m doin my goddamn best to keep you at arms length and it’s damn near impossible but i knew that first time that i–” another heave, “that i’d fuck you again and i’d love you too. be in love with you. and i couldn’t be that selfish. how could you ask me to be that selfish?”

his fingers around your wrist have formed more into a desperate sort of hold, thumb reaching up into the cup of your palm. the weight of his admission presses through your diaphragm, that i’d love you too, but the rift in you, the love and the anger, is growing savage, and you lash with it.

“i’ve never asked a fucking thing of you. i’ve wanted, jesus joel i’ve wanted, but i never asked you to go on this emotionally stifled quest to prove—prove what exactly? that you’re good? i mean, christ, we’re both awful!” you poke him hard in the chest. “you’re awful and i–i’m awful, and,” the momentum of your fury is slowing, you can feel it dragging its feet, “and you won’t let me get close to you. i’d let you in anywhere. and you won’t,” the loving is thawing from you, and like snow in your hands it drips into water and dirt, down your front, and you’re crying suddenly, caught up in the great tragedy of what you’re about to say. “you won’t let me do it, you won’t let me love you even a little bit. but i can’t help it.” you flatten your palms on his chest, gentle, nearly losing it at the hummingbird winged hum of his heart. “if you can’t do it, i’ll leave you alone. i promise you, sting, i will leave you alone, i won’t ask again, i won’t beg it of you. tell me you don’t feel it and i’ll go.”

he takes a stilted breath in and looks down at your fingers on his front, runs his rough hands up them slowly, feeling you here with him. “i–i…”

you nod, tears hot and fat running lines down your cheeks, and move to pull away. you open his door behind you, facing him still, but he jerks something frantic and closes it again. his hands come up next to your head on the door, and the both of you are so silent you can hear the wood creak with the press of his palms. you wait.

it comes out with a great pain at first, a terrible ache you see in the grimace of his face, but it eases as it goes, eases as he tells you, “i love you, little wolf, i do, i do.”

and then there’s a moment of stillness, of unsureness. what do you do now? what does anyone do now? oh, but he loves you, he loves you, you have to write it on a wall somewhere, burn a forest and bottle the ashes, wreak some irrevocable havoc. he loves you.

you drag a hand from his chest up to his face, and with a shudder he leans into the warmth of it, nods against the skin, affirming some wordless agreement, and leans down to press his lips to yours. and it’s been so long you can’t help the whimper that escapes you, squeaky and wet still with the damp residue of your tears, but he’s soft and hot against you, pulls his hands down around your waist and squeezes into your spine. you say his name against his lips and he nods again, presses harder, groaning when you pull the hair at the nape of his neck. you open your mouths to one another, hoping to suck each other’s souls out, you think, and he licks into your mouth with a moan. you’re still whimpering his name somehow, over and over, meaning nothing by it other than you like the taste of it along with his tongue, joel, joel, joel, and he replies with the heated moving of his hands along your body.

joel grips under your ass, pulls you against his cock as he ruts you into the door, speaks gruffly against your lips, “tell me again.”

and you do, somewhere between your moans, “i love you, i love you,” and he seizes with the sound of it, ducking his head to suck marks into your neck. you hitch a leg over his hip and he takes it as an invitation, dragging his cock through his jeans again along you.

with his face still in the crook of your neck and a muffled up he hoists you fully into his arms to take you up the stairs, and if you were more lucid you would notice you’re in the same spot you were months ago, the first and only other time he let you have him, but as it is you swirl your hips as best you can against him as he walks, biting the skin that beats with his jugular. you’re drunk on the scent of him, on the pressure of his body. he lays you down on his bed and leans over you with wild eyes as he drags the fabric of your shirt up. he mouths along the skin as he bares it, mumbling into your skin, “so pretty here, baby.”

you raise your back from the bed to pull your shirt and bra off fully and he groans, hands flying to grab at your tits, tracing a line between them with his nose. “and here.” you lift your hips and he pins them with his own, the heft of his cock dragging against your clit through your pants and you mewl with it. joel moves back up to your ear, still pulling at the flesh of your breasts and rolling your nipples between his fingers, to whisper, “i’m gonna take you slowly. can you do that, darlin?”

and no, you’re not sure you can, but you nod breathlessly anyway.

“good girl.”

that drives you fully to madness, you think, and you tilt your head back into his bed, writhing into a moan. he smiles into you as he moves his face back down, down, past your sternum, hands moving to pull at your jeans. “can i take these off?”

“yes, please.”

he nods and pulls them from you, and runs his hands back up your legs. you can feel your own dripping, the gusset of your panties soaked through with arousal, and his smile drops as he looks at it, a single finger coming to run down the fabric. you shudder, and so does he, you think, hand still on your thigh tightening as the pad of his finger wipes along the dampness. “fuck. this for me?”

you’re already nodding. “yes, yes, you, please, touch me, please.”

and with that joel is pulling them down your legs, leaving a trail of glistening slick where the fabric sticks to your flesh, and joel heaves you to the edge of his bed, kneeling with a grunt to the floor. you hum around a whine as he bites and licks up the insides of your thighs, his own moans reverberating back to you. his fingers, wrapped around the crease where your legs meet your torso, will leave bruises, you’re sure.

“joel,” you plead, but he doesn’t really hear it, heaving open mouthed around your cunt now, breathing you in.

with a long inhale he drops his forehead to your navel, squeezes you between his hands. “so good, baby, this pussy is so good.”

your eyes slip shut and you feel yourself pulse with his words. joel sees it, too, and finally, fucking finally, closes his plush lips around your clit, slurping and sucking as you all but scream into the space of his room.

“fuck joel, fuck, oh my god.”

“yeah?”

you thread your fingers through his curls and tug, and his groan makes your hole flutter. he circles his tongue around your little button, flattens it, flicks over it with the tip, and the drool of his own spit mixes with your slick as it slides from your hole to his sheets below you. you’re fucking aching now, so empty as he sucks around you, but before you can even plead for them, you feel his two fingers slip inside you, gliding in easy around the wetness he’s pulled from you and the slip of his saliva. he curls them, petting against someplace only he has ever reached, and you keen.

“that’s it, huh? there?” and it’s only halfway smug, all the rest earnest, and you pull harder on his hair. your nerve endings flare up and catch fire, his scissoring fingers within you, his taste buds on your clit, his sheets bunched at your head, it all tears at you with unbearable feeling, you feel with an intensity that blurs your vision. with the pulse around his knuckles, joel can feel how close you are, raising his lips from you with eyes hooded. “oh, you’re close, darlin, i fuckin feel it,” he rasps, and you nod again, delirious and mouth open, as he circles his thumb in the path of spit his tongue left. the noises you make would be humiliating in front of anyone else, you think, but his brows furrow with each of your blasphemous little whines, and so you let them claw out as he watches his fingers thrust in and out of you. “c’mon little wolf, let it go, let me have it.” and you do, you throw it at him, really, pulsing around his fingers and gushing down his hand, moaning wildly something that sounds like his name as he groans with the squelch of it.

he pulls his fingers away only as you relax, spine released and flat again on his bed. he drags his eyes up and down your body, spent but not yet satisfied, as he rids himself of his own clothes, and your pussy shudders with her own heartbeat again as you take him in. his cock reaches stiff between his legs, blushing and pearled with precome, and you lick your lips with finally, finally. he pumps himself once, twice, stalking towards you again, but you stand from the bed with shaky legs, sit him in the wet spot you made together. as you sink to your knees he curses and squeezes the base.

“jesus christ, baby.” but you only smile as you run your nose up the underside of his shaft, tentatively pressing the flat of your tongue along his head to collect what’s escaped him there. the salt and musk of it makes you whine and you fit your lips around him, laving along his skin and watching his hands bunch in the sheets. you smooth your lips down his head, lower, lower, and suck, cunt fully dripping again at the noises he makes. a broken version of your name leaves him as you start to bob your head, spinning your chin as you come up, letting your teeth graze the vein along the underside.

“oh fuck, you—shit—your mouth is so fuckin good,” and he brings a hand, now, to collect your hair and wrap his fingers around it, anchoring himself more than you, “yeah, yeah, that’s it baby, fuck.” you moan into him and his hips twitch as it moves through his skin, and fuck you want him to fuck your throat. you bring your fingers up to move his other hand, clenched taut at his side, to your head, pushing it down to show him. his fingers tighten in your hair as he starts to move you on his own, pulling you into him as you gag and swallow around his head. “oh fuck, oh fuck,” he grunts, hips starting to rut up to meet your face, and your hand finds its way to your clit, rubbing in tight circles as he thrusts deeper, sputtering as he grits out, “fucking gag on it.” you hum, so gloriously pleased with yourself and the taste of him, feeling him twitch in your throat, but with one final drag of your tongue on him he pulls you off. you start to whine but he’s heaving you up by the elbows to straddle his lap, grabbing you by the jaw to bring your face to his. your tongues meet and circle, the both of you groaning at the taste of the other, and he drags his wet cock along your seam. you angle your hips so he catches on your opening and his hands tighten on your waist.

“you still want it, darlin?”

you almost laugh, maybe you do, nodding with your hands on his shoulders. “yes, yes, please.”

and when he pushes in it is not like last time. he’s slow, agonizingly so, as he lets you sink down, your forehead dropping to his as you groan in unison. you clench and throb when your thighs meet, fully seated, and he pulses inside of you, but he doesn’t move yet, brings a finger from your waist to between the wings of your shoulder blades. as you breathe together, chests meeting in full flex, he drags the pad of his finger down, your body open and seizing with feeling of him.

“you like to touch me there,” you whisper.

joel nods. “it holds you up.” and something about it makes you wail. when his finger reaches the bottom, he bands his whole arm around your back, pulls you impossibly closer against his chest and moves his head next to yours, asks into your ear, “can i move now?”

you twitch as his breath fans over the side of your face, whispering back some sort of please, please, and he starts to thrust into you, slowly but deeply, so deeply that his tip kisses your cervix, and you both hold each other tighter as he drags back out.

“fuck, joel, so good.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“you’re fuckin—ah—soakin me, baby.”

between the whispers in your ear joel takes your lobe into his mouth, biting and releasing, kissing the spot beneath it. your body tenses in his arms as his cock ruts in and out of you, still so slow and still so much, and his bicep around your back flexes to keep you in place.

“what is it?”

“fuck me faster, please,” you whimper. you feel his little smile into your skin.

“you said you could take it slow.”

“and i—fuck—i’m trying.”

he groans, long and with the movement of his cock in you. “one more second like this, just like this.” you try to roll your hips again but his grip stills you. “you have no patience, do you?” you shake your head. without a word, he reaches up to push your elbows up and over his shoulders, and you wrap your arms down his back. he nods a little, whispers just like that into your skin, and you throb around him.

the slap of his skin on yours rings through the room as he speeds up, thrusts meeting you, and you scream like this is salvation (you think it might be). neither of you can control your noises now, not that there was much control to begin with, and joel grits out agonized moans into the arc of your ear. your nails scrape up and down the skin of his back as he pounds up into you, clawing marks and holding there. again you’re on his name, repeating it with a fever and a cry, joel, joel, joel.

“fuck, i fuckin love the sound of my name like that, baby. you sound like you’re mine.”

you do your best to nod, head bobbing at his shoulder, i am yours, i am yours, but still it’s only his name coming out. he fucks you harder, holds you harder, moves like a zealot into your softness. he brings a thumb to your clit, circles it tightly, eats up your noises with a gluttony that pulls you right there, right there.

“i’m so close, joel,” you whimper.

“fuck, i know, i fuckin feel it. come on, darlin, come on my cock.”

again, you do, you do as he asks, pulled tight into him as you pulse and thrash, ecstasy washing over you.

“yeah, that’s—oh god—that’s it, that’s it,” he rasps, thrusts unrelenting, slapping against the wetness dripping between you. as the rigid pleasure runs through you and your body relaxes again, he picks you up, knees his way up the bed to place you down beneath him. you watch his face pull together as he forgets his plan for a moment, fucks you into the bed with a hand on the headboard, but he collects himself again and heaves you over by the crook of your knee so your stomach is to the mattress, keeping the head of his cock inside you. you hold yourself up by your knees and elbows, feel his hands spread down your back and around the globes of your ass before he picks up his pace again, hips meeting your ass in harsh bumps that make you scream into his pillows. the kick of him inside you is coaxing your body again towards orgasm, and you arch your back for him.

“such a tight fuckin fit, ain’t it?” you whine in response, pushing your hips back against his. he pulls you up, back flush against his chest, spreads his knees a little to rut deeper up into you. with what sounds like waning sanity, he grits into your ear, “you make it fit for me, darlin, i know you do.” your bag arches off his chest as you go stiff, so startlingly close again. you’re defying your own anatomy now, gone from the confines of your body, submerged fully in a rapture that beads like sweat down your skin. “fuck me, you gonna come again?”

“yeah, yes, fuck” you heave.

he nods against your shoulder and slides the paw of his hand down your front to rub you, using the flat of his hand to press into your clit. “i’m gonna—oh fuck—you’re gonna make me come, where do you want it?”

and you know you shouldn’t, but you’re so fucking close, and you want it. “inside, joel, please.”

his thrusts are stumbling now, losing rhythm. “yeah? you want me to fill you up? fuck,” and he laughs breathlessly, “tha’s how we’ll tell everyone, i’ll fuck you full of my fuckin baby.”

the both of you vibrate with that notion, buzzing together, barely human anymore, and suddenly you’re falling into climax, a third and quick and jolted one, pulling him with you as you clench and flutter, and the pump of his warmth inside of you feels like the most wonderfully selfish thing you’ve ever done. and as his cock softens inside you, a mix of your come sliding out, he’s really just holding you, wrapped up in his arms on his bed. he kisses you in the silence, up the line of your shoulder and to your ear. “stay here, baby,” and he pulls out as you lie all the way down, wipes you both with a rag before climbing up behind you and cradling you in the crook of his body.

night has fallen fully now, but the moonlight peers through his window and marks the wall ahead of you. joel’s hands are warm as they run up your sides, draws his name on your hip. you smile.

“sting.”

J–O–E–L. “hm?”

“will you tell me again?”

he stretches out his fingers and leans his head over yours. you turn to meet his face. and you think it hurts him, still, to say it, but he does, forehead creased with sincerity and a will to tell you anyway. “i love you, little wolf.”

“i love you, too.”

joel thinks a moment. “are you…” you sit up a little to see him fully, and even in the darkness you can see the flush of red around his ears. “do you still want me to show you how to make the jam?”

oh god, he is so tender for such a violent thing. “mhm,” you hum, but turn all the way over to situate yourself into his chest. through the hair spattered there, you add, “later.”

his thumb finds your spine again, traces it like he’s done before. in his arms here, you can admit that this, now, is your greatest achievement, the closest you’ve ever been to sacred. the puffs of his breath on the top of your head, the slowing of your heartbeats as you both drift towards sleep, yes, this is holy, a sanctified thing, the loveliest thing you’ve ever grown.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

aaah !! i can't believe this story has come to a somewhat-end !! i can't thank you all enough for the support on it. as my first fic it was fucking terrifying to put out, but i'm so glad i did 🍓🤍🤍

taglist: @koshkaj-blog @limerence4u @shotgun-shelby @5oh5 (let me know if you wanna be added or removed !!)

#joel miller fic #jackson!joel #joel miller #fem!reader #the last of us #tlou #hello woolf #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #on strawberries and masonry #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x reader

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askinkiskarma · 2 years ago

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Illicit Affairs | Chapter X: Invisible String

Pairing: Neteyam x Human/Avatar!Reader

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

Synopsis: Back from the dead, you have to heal in order to be able to move on and be forever part of the people. You and Neteyam finally find each other, giving in to desires you've both had for years.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ minors DNI!!!), some angst, fluff, all the feels, so many feels, the end

Word Count: 14,7k words (i need to be stopped)

A/N: The last chapter of Ilicit Affairs is finally here!! It took me a lot longer than I thought to finish this, but that's because this chapter is longer than my first like 5 chapters combined. I don't know what happened hahahah. I'm so excited to share this with you, the conclusion and culmination of this whole story. I hope you find it a satisfying pay-off, and I'd love to hear allll of your thoughts. Honestly, replies and asks make my life and I cry a little bit every time someone interacts with my content. I hope you have enjoyed this journey, and make sure you read til the end for a (hopefully pleasant) surprise ;)

As always, thank you to everyone who asked to be tagged, I love you all sm!! Ok enjoy byeee x

“Isn't it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me? A string that pulled me out of all the wrong arms right into that dive bar Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons One single thread of gold tied me to you”

Neteyam stood in the room that he knew so well now, he had memorised its cracks in the white walls, and he was holding your hand, slowly tracing the now-fading yellow bruises along your arm. He looked at the tube that was going into the nook of your elbow and followed his eyes along it, until it reached a little clear pouch with a liquid that was dripping slowly all the way into your body. You were talking animatedly with Kiri, Norm and Max, looking over a bunch of plants displayed on a table in front you. It was incredible to see you, you looked like a completely different person than you were a few days ago. As soon as you woke up, you asked for the treatment you worked on and got working, and your symptoms improved massively. You were still sick, and the virus was still there, not to mention the damage it had already done couldn’t be reversed, it had to be treated on day at a time. Norm said your lungs were getting better and your heart was too, but your kidneys, he thought they were called, still not cleared your blood properly, so you were still stuck in bed with a big tube coming out of your neck where it removed your blood and another tube where it returned it back to your body. Neteyam did not understand how any of this worked, but whatever science it took, he was grateful for. He did not leave your sight in this time, refusing to be parted with you for even more than a few minutes at a time. Jake helped Max and Norm bring in an extra large bed, like the ones made for Avatars and add it to the room next to your own bed, and he slept there, reaching over to hold you hand at all times.

There was so much between you that was still unsolved, still eating at his insides, but he did not want to overwhelm you or pain you in any way while in this state, so he was satisfied to just be near you and listen to your heavy breathing while you slept, and be comforted by the sound of the ECG machine letting him know you were still there, that your heart was still beating and it wasn’t stopping anytime soon.

“Ok, I think we need to start with how will we extract the proteins from these plants. I’ve not done protein extraction on plants, but I assume we can do some sort of chloroform or methanol precipitation? You and Grace used to work with plants a lot more than Max or I, so I think you would be the best at figuring it this out, no?” Neteyam looked at you with wide eyes, so perpetually impressed with your intelligence and drive, with how good you seemed to be at tackling any challenge. You were barely breathing properly, but here you were, trying to find a cure for this illness that almost took your life. The first full sentence you said after coming back to life was to Kiri, and he was a little jealous, but overall incredibly proud of you and your strength that felt like it could move mountains if you put all your might into it. Knowing you, he was sure this virus will be dead meat soon.

“Right, I can take care of the protein extraction, you can then run mass spectrometry on it and see what we’re working with. It’s going to be a lot of work, are you sure you don’t want us to take care of it? Until we figure out exactly which active ingredient in which one of these plants gets results, it’s nonstop. I don’t think you’re ready to be back to work yet.”

“I can’t sit back and do nothing. We’ll see how I feel, worst case scenario I do all the analysis from the comfort of this bed, deal?”

Norm was happy to hear that you weren’t being stubborn for once. Whatever happened to you when you died, you definitely seemed changed. As if death brought forth epiphanies that made you want to live, to heal. Neteyam was definitely not complaining.

After a while, everyone cleared, and you and Neteyam were left by yourselves. You turned around to watch him, giving him a little grin.

“You know you don’t have to stay here every minute of the day, right?”

“I disagree.”

You laughed heartily, your breath getting caught in your throat when the action made your lungs hurt, and the laughter turned to wincing, much to Neteyam’s dismay. Eventually, the wincing turned to sighing, and you didn’t look at him as you spoke again.

“Shouldn’t you be with your mate?”

It was his turn to wince, and he realised you probably couldn’t avoid talking about your issues forever.

“Do you really want to talk about this right now?”

“Neteyam… I won’t be the other woman. And I’m also not going to be the woman who steals a man from another, or who endorses whatever the hell this is. I need to make sure you are serious about this, about us. I might still not make the consciousness transfer. I need you to think about this, and if you do and you decide that it is me after all, then you need to talk to her. She deserves that, she deserves better than what she’s been getting. And I don’t want to be part of this until I know she is not being deceived or led on.”

“You are right. I will talk to her today, alright? But I’m not leaving you right now.”

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

You could feel yourself getting stronger by the day. It was a struggle still, your lungs feeling like they were going to explode any time you took a deep breath in and your heart oscillating between going a million miles a minute to barely functioning in the span of a day, but you were getting there. The combination treatment was definitely doing its job, and your body was no longer on the brink of collapse. Some colour returned to your cheeks in time, and since you have been eating about 15 meals a day because of how worried everyone was, you were gaining weight back, which was further increasing your day-to-day quality of life. You got a lot of sleep in the last few days, probably more combined than in the past few months, and you felt rested, for the first time in a really long time.

The first two days were the hardest, your body reeling from withdrawal on top of everything else you were experiencing. But you were feeling good today, and were trying to remain optimistic so as to not fall into old patterns. Having Neteyam next to you helped, your light in all the darkness, he refused to leave your sight, even in the face of more pressing matters.

The humans were closing in, you were told. The ships will be landing any day now, which only contributed to your slow recovery, as the anxiety was manifesting itself physically and hurting your progress. You felt stressed at the situation and more so at the thought that Neteyam wasn’t there, in the meetings and in practice, missing it all so he could stay with you. You hated it, worrying constantly and he wouldn’t hear it.

“It’s only a couple of days, Atan. Stop worrying.”

Today was the day they were going to remove the dialysis machine, which you were extremely excited about. You felt the need to walk, to stretch out your legs, to be back in the lab. You had a lot to do, a lot you had riding on this. You were trying not to think too hard on how you were doing everything in your power to further procrastinate healing, knowing that at some point you were going to have to deal with the trauma head on and open that damned drawer, that held all of your darkest memories, all of the things you spent your whole life pushing away. If you were going to be ready to heal, ready to move on, you had to do so with a clear conscience and a clean slate. You were adamant that you were going to find the cure for the virus and use it on yourself before you made a decision about the consciousness transfer. You had to be 100% sure of your choice, of your decision to leave this life behind forever, and you couldn’t do that if you viewed it as an escape from your current weak and disease-ridden body.

It took a while to be disconnected to the machine and get the tube out of your neck. From now on til you decide whether to go through with the transfer, you will have to do this for a few hours a day, which was a pain, but better than being bed ridden all day.

You put your feet on the ground for the first time in days, and you forced yourself to stand slowly, and quickly realised it was a bad idea, and your knees immediately buckled under you. Neteyam caught you with both his hands under your arms, and effortlessly raised you until your feet were a few inches above ground.

“Put me down! This is so embarrassing.” You groaned at your own impairment, and refused to give up, slowly starting to walk with shaky feeble steps. You felt both Norm and Neteyam hover over you, and although you were grateful for them, you wanted to scream at how upsetting it was making you having to be looked after like you were a baby taking her first steps. You guess, in some ways, you were.

You eventually got to your room, which looked untouched, if a little dusty. You were happy to see it again, happy to take it all in. It was a bit surreal, the whole experience. You didn’t realise how much it was all going to matter, all the little things, until you were dead on a hospital bed, begging Eywa for another chance. Every wall, every creak on the floor, every book, it all hit you suddenly, and you had to sit down on the ground, your back against the bed frame, so as to not collapse under the weight of this whole endeavour.

“Atan, are you alright?” Neteyam’s voice was laced with concern, and you tried to stop panting long enough to answer him.

“I’m fine, it’s just a lot.”

He slowly sat down next to you, struggling to squeeze in the tight space between the bed and the desk. His knee was brushing up against the side of the thigh, and you felt heat spread from the touch through your entire body. He gently raised one hand to the side of your face, removing strands of hair that were falling on it and tucking them behind your ear.

“Talk to me, Atan. I want to know, I want to help.”

You felt tears pool in your eyes, and you couldn’t look at him, couldn’t look anywhere but the ground as the words got lodged in your throat. This was going to be much harder than you thought.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Neteyam. I’m sorry that I almost died, that I did die, and that you had to witness it. I’m sorry for not telling you, I am sorry for not fighting harder, I am sorry for so many things.” Hot tears were falling on your arm laying in your lap and you struggled to find the words to speak. “I am still so mad at you, so mad that you left, so mad that you lied, so mad that you never told me how you felt about me, so mad about so many things, but I shouldn’t have kept this from you. We’ve been inseparable since birth, and no matter what happened, you deserved to know, you all deserved to know. You deserved to say goodbye. I am sorry I took that from you.”

You were both crying now, and he picked you up and placed in his lap with little visible effort, it was probably easier for him than carrying Tuk. You wrapped your arms around his neck and slid your legs around him to wrap around his back and you stood there, crying in the crook of his neck while he held you tightly, trying not to hurt you.

“I am sorry for leaving. Sorry for not talking to you about how I felt, sorry about giving up on you. I should have stayed and helped you heal, I should have been there for you to rely on instead of being yet another thing you had to deal with in this life. I am sorry about lying about Tiongli, I am sorry for not telling them all no from the beginning. Even without the Avatar, there was only one woman in this whole world I would ever belong to, and I would have been happy spending my whole life in this lab, if it meant doing it with you. I was scared, and I am sorry.”

He removed your head slowly from the crook of his neck, and grasped the side of you face with one of his hands, thumb trailing over your lips, tracing them from your cupid’s bow to your lower lips, and you shuddered at the touch, deep desire pooling within you.

“I love you so much. I have loved you my whole life, from the moment I was born, and I will love you until the moment I die. I am so sorry it took me so long to grow, but I am ready now. Whatever it is, I will brave it with you, and for you. You will never have to do this alone again.”

You were sobbing now, unmoored at his confession that you have waited for your entire life. You were so overwhelmed by the love and affection you felt for this man, for the appreciation of knowing he was willing to hear the deepest, darkest parts of your soul and share in that pain willingly.

“I love you too. I missed you so much.”

After crying it out on the crook of his neck, letting your human hands caress the soft blue skin of his back and chest while he held you, fingers running up and down your spine in a comforting motion, you eventually got up from his lap slowly, and crawled on all your fours to your messy old desk. You took a key that was taped to the underside of your chair, and, with a deep sigh and tired eyes, unlocked the bottom drawer of the desk. You took out just one thing. A bracelet. You smiled at the sight, and tightened it around your arm multiple times so it fit on your human form. You looked at Neteyam coyly, giving him a soft smile, and you saw his hand reaching for his own bracelet, with a gummy smile and tears in his eyes.

Maybe you could do this after all.

You eventually started working in the lab again, being a lot more careful about striking a balance between work and everything else in your life. You were still struggling to sleep, especially now that Norm and Max flushed every pill you had down the toilet, but you were trying your best. The best was when Neteyam slept over, and you just fell asleep flush against his bare body, whose warmth melted away all your nightmares and replaced them with much better, much lewder ones. You weren’t getting anywhere with your research, as Kiri found a lot of plants in the forest, and to do mass spectrometry and proteomics on so many proteins, and analysing them all was an impossible task in the time you had left. So in an afternoon, as you were hanging out with her, Lo’ak, Spider and Neteyam in the hub, guitar strumming in your hands, you had a lightbulb moment.

“Kiri, if you had to save one plant, just one on this whole planet, which one would it be?” Kiri was special. Whenever the rest of the kids argued over her heritage, making crude jokes about Grace and Norm, trying to figure out who her dad is, you always had a different hypothesis, that you never said out loud. Kiri was Eywa’s child, as much as Grace’s. She was the key to everything. Eywa was flowing through her, guiding her, and you believed she had a lot more up her sleeve than any of you knew, than even she knew.

“Hmmm, that is a hard question.” She looked deep in thought for a long time, and eventually it’s like a huge epiphany was released from her mind. “Pamtseowll!!”

“The Cat Ear plant? Are you sure?”

“I think so! I don’t know why that one, but that’s the only thing that came to mind, and when I thought about it, I just knew it was the right one! Why do you ask?”

You raised from the ground, placed the guitar on a bench next to you, and ran (more like walked at slightly increased velocity than normal) to her, kissing her forehead in a loud smooch.

“I’ll let you know!! Wait here!!”

You talked to Norm, telling him your hunch and asking him to treat a vial of the infected blood with the liquid extracted from the plant in question, that you already had in stock thanks to Kiri. It would take a while, but you were buzzing in excitement, feeling extremely positively about your idea and your new odds. You made it back to the hub where they were all waiting for you, and sat back on the ground, mischievously ignoring their curious glares.

“Are you going to tell us what this was all about?” Spider said, rolling your eyes at your antics.

“Nope.”

They eventually dropped it, and you sat together, talking about everything and nothing, trying to ignore the looming doom of the ships slowly making their way to Pandora’s atmosphere, and the deadly consequences that would follow them.

You picked up the guitar again, deep in thought. Before you could help yourself, you found yourself speaking.

“I saw my mum.”

Everybody stopped and stared at you in shock. None of them said anything, and you swore you could hear a hairpin drop for sure in this big hall, or your heart pounding in your ears.

“When I died…” you started cautiously, not even knowing why you started talking in the first place, but knowing it was too late to back off now. “…I woke up in this new place I have never seen before. Eventually, I realised I was on Earth, in my mum’s childhood home. There were pictures of her on the wall, with her parents, she looked young, and happy… and alive.”

“Her house overlooked the ocean, and I went and sat on the beach and she came. Like it was nothing, she just came to me, and sat me down, and watched me cry on her shoulder until I thought I was running out of tears.”

This bit was easy enough to speak about, now came the real problem. You swallowed the big lump in your throat and continued. “She told me she did the same things I did. That she had been sad, so very sad, ever since my father died, the kind of sad that never goes away, the kind of sad I am.” You couldn’t look at them, preferring the look of your guitar that you were holding on to dear life as you spoke, and saw small tears crashing into the strings, splattering everywhere. “She said she didn’t try… to stay alive, to heal. Just like I didn’t. She said she had a choice, and she chose to die, because the hurt was too much for her to bear. She left me, orphaned me, put me through so much pain I’m still dealing with a decade later.”

You heard small gasps and sharp breath intakes and the new information, but couldn’t stop to acknowledge it, needing it out of your soul as soon as possible. “I was so hurt, so mad at her. That she left, that she didn’t fight harder to be in my life, that she left me with so many scars because of her selfishness. And then it dawned on me… that was me. I did that to you. To all of you. And I am sorry. I am so sorry.”

They all slowly sat up from where they sat and gathered around you in a circle, and hugged you.

“We forgive you. We’re just happy you’re still here. We love you, we want you to know that you’ll always be able to talk to us. You’ll always have us. We’re a family. Sullys stick together.”

You felt each of these words deep within you, the forgiveness something you craved like air, and you realised how much it must have meant to your mum. You were happy you could do that for her. You were happy something good came out of all the misery.

Later that day, all the Sully kids left, and you went to your room, carrying your guitar in your hands, and found yourself again, sitting on the ground, reaching for the bottom drawer key and unlocking it with shaky hands and muffled cries. It was time. You reached inside it for a photo album, with old school printed photos on it, and opened it. Your heart was hurting so badly you needed to place your hand on your hand to try to settle it, settle the pain and agony you felt. The first photo was a photo of you and your mum in the medical ward, holding you tightly against her chest, looking really tired with the caption “you had just been born a couple hours ago, how crazy is that?”. The second one - a photo of you, as a tiny baby, only a few days old by the scribbling on it. Countless photos of you, in various stages of growth, in various positions, all captioned by your mother, who loved you more than anything else in this world and whose love was loud and clear in every one of these images. The tears kept falling off the laminated pages and onto your legs, and your anguished cries took over the music playing in the background. An image of you and Neteyam, in a crib, his body much larger than yours even as tiny infants, but you were holding hands, sleeping peacefully next to each other. An image of your mum with Neytiri and Jake, smiling widely for the camera. A photo of your mum in her Avatar body with all the Sully kids, her holding Tuk in her arms when she was just born. An image of her in the lab, mid laugh with a pipette gun in her hand - no one would ever have been able to tell how much hurt she was hiding underneath, how close she was to death. Finally, an image of her and your dad, taken by your dad, of them looking into each other’s eyes lovingly. The caption, blurred and blotched from dried tear stains, read “the love of my life, the light in all the darkness”. You closed the album panting, and brought it close to your heart, just holding on to it while you cried.

You were spent by the end, but wanted to push through, needing to get this done all in one go. You removed another thing from the drawer, a camera, the gift Jake have you for your birthday. You eventually sat on your desk chair, and plugged it into your laptop. You clicked on the only file on it, and gasped at your mum’s face appearing on the screen, smiling while adjusting the camera to centre her face. She started speaking, and you clung to every word, making sure her voice and words will forever be imprinted on your mind.

“My child,

I know it’s been a while since you have since my face.” she says with a small laugh.

“I’m making this tape for your 18th birthday, as this should be around the time when your Avatar is ready for you to use. I gave Norm and the rest of them notes and doodles and research and I think they can do it, my love. I think they can build you the ramps new life, one amongst the Na’vi. I am so excited for you, you have no idea.

Happy birthday, bunny. You will forever be the best and brightest thing I will have ever achieved. I am more sorry than you will ever know that I don’t get to see you grow up, see the beautiful, intelligent, caring and loving person you already are blossom into so much more, but I want you to know, more than anything, that I have no regrets.

I have lived my life exactly the way I wanted to. I have explored new worlds, I have contributed something good to the world, I have lived and I have loved deeply and unconditionally. I just hope you do, too. I hope this world doesn’t break you, my love. I hope it doesn’t snuff out your light, because in that case, I will have failed you, and I am so sorry.

I know you are sad, and I know you have probably been sad for a while, and I know this life is emotionally abusive, and it takes and takes and takes until there’s nothing left. But it’s also worth living. Because you can learn to take from it, too. You can learn to heal, and love and live, and replace whatever it took in time with even better fitted pieces. But in order to do that, you have to live, my love.

Even at 10, you have a tendency to keep sadness in, and don’t let it out. That’s something you got from me, and I’m sorry for that. I love that you got my eyes, and my addiction to music and my love for science and literature, but baby, I don’t want you to be like me in every way. You also have a tendency to isolate, and that, you also got from me. I’m hoping that will change in time, I’m hoping Neteyam, and Spider, and Lo’ak and Kiri, and eventually Tuk will be able to break through and allow their light to shine on the dark walls of this lab. But if not, I’m hoping this Avatar will.

I want you to know that it’s alright to hurt, and it’s alright to be scared and wonder if the path you’ve taken is the correct one. We all wonder through this life scared and confused and a little alone. But it’s up to us to want to make a change and it’s worth it, baby. I know opening yourself up to hurt is scary and hard, but it will also allow to love, to love fully and deeply, to give yourself to others and have them give themselves to you. There’s beauty in this world and this life, but you need to be brave to experience it.

Your dad and I love you very much. Enjoy this Avatar, and enjoy all that it can bring to your life. You are the brightest light of my life, and now it’s time for you to become another’s.”

You replayed the video until you were so spent, your eyes were closing painfully from the tiredness and hurt and tears. After that, you went to your bed, still clinging to the photo album, and fell asleep, to a song you hoped one day you’ll be strong enough to play yourself, but for now had to settle for the original.

I should've asked you questions, I should've asked you how to be Asked you to write it down for me, should've kept every grocery store receipt Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me Watched as you signed your name Marjorie All your closets of backlogged dreams, and how you left them all to me...

Norm came bursting through the door of your bedroom, waking you up in a panic. “What the fuck, Norm??”

“We did it.” He came to your bedroom and took you by the shoulders, shaking you. He screamed and jumped in the air.

“WE FUCKING DID IT, ACE!”

You jumped from the bed onto your knees, so you were almost face to face.

“WHAT? ARE YOU FOR REAL?”

“YES, OH MY GOD, YES!”

You jumped on him and he caught you, and you just spun around in your tiny room, laughing and screaming at the beginning of your new life.

Thank you, mum. For looking after me even after you’ve gone. Thank you.

You had to toil a bit with details, but by midday, you were ready to get the substance, now purified and diluted in appropriate medium for being inserted in a human body. You watched as Norm prepared, and held your breath as he injected it into your now healed veins. You didn’t know whether it would work, or how many doses you would need, this was all so new, it was kind of crazy you were willing to inject it in your body with so little information, but you trusted your mum, and you trusted Kiri, and you trusted Eywa.

You felt good. So good, in fact, you knew exactly what you wanted to do.

Neteyam was in the village, in a deep strategy meeting about how they were going to approach the upcoming threat looming over everybody. His mind was only half listening, the other half too busy with musings of you. What were you doing? Have you eaten? Did you take your treatment? He was worried about you after yesterday, and felt guilty he didn’t stick around for the night in case you needed him. He is pulled out of his train of thought when he hears a loud banshee scream, and everyone’s attention turns to the entrance of the tent, to which everyone rushes. When Neteyam makes his way outside, his mouth drops at the sight of you, beautiful and wild, free on top of your golden white ikran.

You were radiant, smiling widely at him while you removed your queue and your visors and brought your hand to your forehead and greeted everyone at the meeting.

“Hey, kid.” The Sully patriarch came over and gave you a big hug, a conflicted look on his face. “Are you sure it’s ok for you to use your Avatar?”

“We did it, Jake. We found the cure.”

His mother and father both gasped loudly at the news and hugged you tightly, and you held on to them with all your might, pouring all of your love and apologies into it. Neteyam was too stunned to say anything, pure bliss escaping his body in the form of silent tears, that he wiped immediately from his face - he was in a meeting with all the warriors, there couldn’t be tears.

“I’m actually here to steal the future Olo’eyktan, if that’s ok with everyone. I will bring him back in one piece, I promise.”

“Fine, but don’t be too late. I don’t want to have to use the radio, am I making myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

Neteyam saw you click your tongue towards where you were standing, and felt a ping of arousal at your sight, at your confident demeanour. You used to be such a wild girl before life got too much for you to bear. He hoped he’d get to see that in you again, just like he was now. His hands made their way to his mouth and formed a circle around it, and he screamed loudly for his ikran, which appeared quickly and landed next to yours. He connected the queue and both of you took flight at the same time.

You flew like that for a while, and he was mystified at the experience. He has spent so much of his time riding with other people, flying as much a chore as a delight, but nothing that will ever be able to top this. You were screaming, fiercely and ferociously, doing barrel rolls in midair on your beautiful banshee, laughing loudly and urging her to almost bump into him, to which he gasped in mock annoyance and returned the favour. He followed you to the Hallelujah mountains, all the way to a cave on one of the floating rocks. It was beautiful, and he thought it would probably be breathtaking at night. You both landed, panting from the adventure, and made your ways to each other after petting your ikrans affectionately.

His hands immediately found your face, holding you tightly to look deep into your eyes. Your eyes softened looking at him, and he could see himself in them, looking intense and troubled.

“Did you really do it?”

You raised you own hand and brushed an unwieldy braid from his face, gently tugging it behind his ear. He saw your tail swish enthusiastically.

“We really did it.”

Neteyam’s mouth immediately found yours, desperate for your touch, the feeling of relief washing over him and it was so intense this is the only way it could be manifested. He needed you, craved your touch, craved the closeness, craved to make up for all the time you two lost. You moaned into the kiss and deepened it, opening your mouth, inviting his tongue to meet yours and dance in the way that made you both weak in the knees. You put your hand on his chest and pushed him and it caught him off guard, because he tipped backwards and hit the ground with a painful thud. You smirked and raised an eyebrow, and he moaned at the sight. You immediately got on top of him, straddling his lap and pulling him by his chest piece until your lips met his again. Your hands went into his hair and his did the same, and you let out a wail when he pulled on it, making your head tilt backwards, giving him access to your neck that he attacked mercilessly, leaving trails of his presence all over you. You felt him, hard against your core that was dripping in arousal, and you thoughtlessly starting grinding against him, feeling your mind flooded with sensations you never wanted to let go of.

“Neteyam, we can’t.” It hurt you saying these words, it was taking every ounce of self discipline you had, which at the moment was almost none.

“Yes, we can. In fact, I think it would be irresponsible of us not to.”

You laughed, smacking his chest playfully at his words. You brought your hand to his face and caressed it softly, and he closed his eyes in bliss.

“I want to do this properly. I will be one of you soon, for the rest of my life. I want to do this your way. I want to be mated to you the Na’vi way. Then we can do whatever you want, however you want. Deal?” You raised an eyebrow at him, smiling mischievously.

“Only if you stop raising your eyebrow at me, otherwise I make no promises.”

You laughed again, and laid next to him with your head on his chest, hoping this moment could last forever.

“Hey, I have to do something, and it won’t be pleasant. I was going to go alone, but I’ve made a promise to not go about everything alone. So if your offer still stands, would you like to come with me?”

You felt Neteyam’s hand stop caressing your hair like it had been for a while. He starts getting up, pushing your head off his chest slowly in the process. He looked serious, concerned, but he had a calming smile on, and when he took your hands in his and held them tightly, you knew you were gonna be ok.

“Let’s go.”

You got on your ikrans and flew back to the forest, feeling comforted by the knowledge he was there, next to you. You didn’t have to do this alone. You landed in the clearing next to the exo suit that belonged to you dad. Your heart was picking up pace from the sight, but it was time. It was time to work through it.

You slid off Neyn’s back and made your way to the suit, running your hands over it to remove some of the vines and eventually reaching for the dash cam. It was probably long dead, but you had to try, especially after what your mum said. You fiddled with the screen for a while, and eventually, it turned on, making you jump out of your skin.

In the view of the camera stood a man, tall and bald, wearing military clothing and reloading the guns that came with the suit. You’ve seen him before, in a photo in one of the jackets you found rummaging for clothes to wear. His name was Lyle Weinfleet.

“Captain, I think if we go through this clearing, we should be closing in on the tree of souls in about 3 clicks.”

“You’re right. But I don’t think we should do it.”

Lyle looked stunned, and he stopped whatever he was doing to turn around and look and your dad. “Barlowe, what are you talking about?”

“This is wrong, Lyle. You know it, I know it, everyone here fucking knows it. And if you don’t, you’re even a bigger psychopath than I thought you were. We have to go back.”

“I’m not fucking going anywhere, Captain. These freaks are going to kill all of us if they get their way. Someone has to stop them.”

Your dad picked up his gun and pointed it at him. “Are you disobeying direct orders, lieutenant?”

“You’re not my squad leader, Captain. And I have orders from above.”

A fight ensued which eventually resulted in the destruction of both the exo suits. Your dad got out of the suit, and the last time the camera picked up was Weinfleet running at him with a knife.

You lowered the screen and sat in silence for a long time. Neteyam’s hands were rubbing up and down your arms, and you felt his chest radiating heat on your back. You were happy to have him here, as the new influx of information was overwhelming enough to make you dizzy. Your dad didn’t attack on that fateful night 19 years ago. Everything you believed your entire life was false.

“My dad was not a horrible person.” Neteyam said nothing and just stood by your side, allowing you to process everything at your own pace.

“I hated him my whole life. I felt so much guilt at his actions, the murders I thought he committed plagued my mind for years and years. I was too scared to come to the village because I thought he was responsible for the decimation of your people.”

“You came from him, you share his blood. There was no way he could have been that bad. Not with you as his daughter.”

You scoffed lightly at his comment, but were so happy he was here. You took him by the hand and walked him to the body that was now only a pile of bones. You looked further in the clearing, and realised another set of bones was settled in the ground a few meters from your dad’s. Good, you thought.

“I’d like to bury him, if that’s alright with you?”

You gathered all the bones and walked to a tree whose roots were hanging partially above the ground, creating a little cove. Rays of light were hitting it, and you knew then it would be the perfect place. You placed his remains there, and gathered flowers and ornate twigs that had fallen on the ground, and decorated the little space as well as you could.

“Thank you, dad.” You were comforted at the thought that, although he died on this foreign planet alone, he was loved, and now, he will be mourned.

You made it back to the village together, walking and holding hands, trying to get your mind off all the epiphanies you have had to undergo in the past few days. Healing was hard work, you snickered to yourself. You made it to the tent you knew Jake and the rest of the warriors would be.

“There you are. Was starting to get worried.”

“Ah, there’s nothing to be worried about, pops.” You laughed at Jake’s shocked expression and the way his eyes softened immediately as a response to your new nickname.

He had to wipe that expression off his face. He was Olo’eyktan. He was Toruk Makto, this was not inspiring leadership.

“Right. The humans will be here any day now. I think we will have to move our base of operations in the Hallelujah mountains, somewhere they can’t find us, where the flux is too strong for their equipment. It’s going to be a big ask, and a big adjustment, but it is necessary. You know the first place they will look is at the hub. And it won’t take long for them to find the village either.”

What he was saying made sense, but it filled you with a sense of grief. This forest, that hub, those labs, this village, is all you’ve ever known. To have to leave it for an undetermined amount of time, maybe forever, was hurting your heart. You knew Neteyam felt the same, you knew they all felt the same. Jake was a marine, strong and adaptable, he was an incredible person to have around in a crisis. But he didn’t quite understand what it means to belong to only one place, to only know one reality that was going to be uprooted and taken from you. That takes time, time you didn’t have.

“I think we should do the ceremony tonight. You have completed the Iknimaya, you are to be one of us now. It’s time, if you want it.”

You peered up at him, in shock, but the beating of your heart was so loud because it was excited, it was happy. It’s time. You knew it in your heart it was right, this time. You belonged here. Your mum worked so hard for you to get to do this, she foresaw this 18 years ago. Your dad gave his life for yours, even without knowing it. You owed them this, owed them your life and this new one you were about to get.

“And tomorrow, we can do the transfer, if you are ready.”

By nightfall, you were ready. Your hair was freshly braided, in a pattern different to what the Na’vi wear, but you wanted it to be a mix of Na’vi and human braiding. You had all new clothes, and Kiri was in your tent, painting your body in white lines, as was the tradition. She looked radiant, happy and beautiful, like she always was.

“How are you feeling?

“Nervous.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about. You belong here, you always have, even when you were human. This is just formality at this point.”

“Kiri… I want to thank you. You saved my life. Your plants, your mind saved my life. I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t for you.”

“You saved your life. You asked me, you did the work, you found the cure. The Na’vi will be forever grateful to you, and Max and Norm, I hope you know that.”

“How about we say it was a team effort?” You laughed together and you kissed her forehead. You loved her so much, your sister for life.

Neteyam saw your body, adorning all new garbs, a golden frilly loincloth and green, violet and gold beaded top that hung from your neck to reveal a bare back that made Neteyam’s body beam with desire. Your left arm was decorated with a bracelet, the same bracelet he was wearing, the one that he gave to you when he was ten, that was now proudly shining on your person rather than hiding in a drawer, masking pain. You had bracelets around your ankles as well, that were softly clinking every time you took a step. Your hair was soft and braided in a pattern that was unlike the Na’vi ways, and it was fitting, Neteyam thought. You would never be only Na’vi - you were more, not quite human, not quite one of them, you were the most beautiful aspects of both and Neteyam felt his heart skip a beat at the sight, one which will never cease to take his breath away. You were his, forever. How did he get so lucky?

Almost as if you could hear him, you slowly turned around and he saw your eyes searching the crowd until they found him, and your face immediately broke out into a beaming smile, that slowly changed into a gaze filled with yearning and love….and lust. Neteyam gulped audibly at your expression, so intense it was making him crazed enough to almost consider taking you away right now, ceremony be damned, and coax screams out of you he would be sure anyone else would cower in shame at. But not you. You were his match, his twin flame, and he knew whatever he wanted to take from you, the screams, the pleasured pains, the moans and panted breaths, you would give willingly, and would take his in return, until you were both so spent you collapsed in aching bliss.

He waited though, despite his progressively harder to ignore twitch, knowing he wouldn’t, couldn’t rob you of this moment, knowing the waiting and anticipation would be worth it in the end.

The ceremony was ethereal, magical, and he couldn’t help reminisce about his own, years and years ago. The people all stood around you, waiting for the Olo’eyktan to say the words that will make it official. Neteyam saw his father approach you, wearing all the garbs worthy of a chief of the Omatikaya, and placed both his arms on your shoulders, smiling proudly. You were a Sully now, for all intents and purposes, and his father looked at you the same way he looked at all his children. Neteyam’s heart swelled at the sight, taking in the familial interaction.

“Ngenga 'ite Omatikayaä luyu set. Na'viyä luyu hapxì. (You are now a daughter of the Omaticaya. You are part of The People.)”

Neteyam made his way by your side, and he watched as the rest of his family did the same. He placed both of his hands on your body, one over your heart, and the other on your back. His family did the same, and he noticed tears in everyone’s eyes, including yours and his own. This was a moment none of them thought they’d get to see, that you never expected to experience, and Neteyam said a silent prayer to Eywa, thanking her for bringing the love of his life back to him, and into the clan.

After the celebration, you excused yourself from everyone, tired and dazed, as well as too impatient to wait for what you have wanted, needed for days, months, years. You found Neteyam casually talking to some friends, and you touched his back lightly, so lightly it was barely there. He shuddered minutely, and turned his body to face you. He took your breath away, always, but particularly today, in this light, under these circumstances, wearing his ornate clothes and that bracelet, the one that you would both wear for the rest of your lives. That one that meant forever.

“Come.” He said, and he looked at you like you were a meal that he’s been starved from, that he was going to devour. You bit your lip in excitement and followed him.

You went for a swim in a tiny lake not too far from the village. You swam together like that for hours, kissing and touching each other under the water, just feeling him. The anticipation was building strongly, and as the last of the paint on your body dissipated, you left, with hurried steps, quickly making your way towards the Tree of Souls.

Your entire body stalled at the sight. You have seen images of it, areal videos taken from drones and helicopters, you saw it all, and yet nothing could have prepared you for the beauty of this place, for its magnitude and significance. The air felt thick, charged with energy, and you could hear whispers all around you, soft, almost imperceptible, but they were there. Eywa was here, just like she was all around you, but here, you felt her stronger, almost palpably so. You made your way through the willow-like branches, seeing the purple hue illuminate your skin, and you just walked, taking it all in, touching it, experiencing it fully. You were so happy, it made you anxious. You’ve never felt happiness like this, and you were scared it wasn’t going to last, scared of knowing that the fall from such a high would break all of your bones, crush you forever. You felt Neteyam’s gaze on you, electrifying every inch of your body its gaze was touching. You could feel him, in your bones, you knew what he was feeling, what he was thinking. You shared a soul, you always have. “He is more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

You looked at him and your breath hitched in your throat at the sight; he was the most gorgeous human you have ever seen. He was beautiful and angelic and looking at you like you were prey that he wanted to exert complete control over - and you didn’t mind. You wanted him so badly and you have waited for this for what feels like lifetimes. You knew looking at this man in front of you that you would allow him to ruin you, you would beg him to kill you softly, slowly drive out any ounce of sanity from your body orgasm by orgasm until there was nothing left of you but the echoes of moans you couldn’t help exhale. It was almost desperate, your need for him, and you heard your breath become laboured, panting with craving and ache. You saw him make his way towards you slowly, and stopped only when he was towering over you, and you had to bring your chin up to be able to look into his eyes. His hands immediately found your jaw, that he gripped tightly, making sure you weren’t going to look away from him, from that gaze that drove you mad and made you throb in pain, begging to be filled, craving sweet release.

“You’re mine. I can’t believe you’re mine. I have waited for so long, I have dreamt about this for years. The one thing I have wanted more than life itself and you are here. You’re mine. Forever.”

You were fully panting now, not even an ounce of shame on your features. You wanted him, you wanted him to know what he was doing to you. Wanted him to control you, to possess you, to take what was his, what has been his and will be his forever.

“Say it. I need to hear you say it, Atan.”

His grip on your jaw tightened, and you moaned, unable to stop yourself, not wanting to stop yourself.

“I am yours, Neteyam. I have always been yours. I will always be yours. It’s you and me, forever.”

It was his turn to moan, gaze turning animalistic now, in a way that you felt within you, deep within you, and you knew you were dripping wet now, knew he was going to love it, was going to revel in it, and you smirked at the thought.

You saw him stop and reach back for his queue. You gasped silently at the sight, but smiled at the thought he wanted this, that after this, you would be his for life. You reached back for yours, and you both held them close to each other, just out of reach, looking deeply in each other’s eyes.

“Do you trust me?”

“You know I do. I trust you, Neteyam, do whatever you want to me. I’m yours to take, I’m yours.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.” You joined the queues and nothing in the world could have ever prepared you for the overwhelming sensations and feelings, for the intense intimacy of feeling Neteyam’s deepest desires and emotions, for how deep his love and care for you actually ran, for how desperate he was to own you, to make you his. You felt his breathing and his heartbeat, and he felt yours and the desire you both felt exploded all around you.

He aggressively smashed his lips into yours, both of you moaning at the contact, at the need that enveloped both your beings like the rushing water of the river you loved swimming in together. Your fingers immediately made their way into his hair, his beautiful hair that seemed to sometimes have a life of its own, and thinking of how hot you found it made you only more enthusiastic, gripping at it tightly and pulling on it. He smirked in the kiss, parting your lips enough to look at you with a mischievous grin that you loved more than you could put into words. You loved this man - you loved his kindness and compassion and sacrificial streak and patience, but you loved this side of him more, the side only you ever got to experience, that no one else knew about. How passionate and adventurous he was, how masculine and possessive of what was his he was, how wild and untamed a streak he hid under the well-behaved and poised demeanour. How well he matched you. Your twin flame. He placed both of his hands on you thighs, just underneath your ass, and lifted you effortlessly, and you instantly wrapped both your legs around him, never breaking the kiss, that was now just a mess of panted moans, lips and intertwined tongues. You felt your back hit a tree bark and you gasped, breaking the kiss and watching as the action left a trail of spit in between you. His mouth moved to your neck, that he sucked and licked until it was hurting, and he pushed you into the tree, trying to remove whatever space there still was in between you two. As he did so, you felt his chest and pelvis push aggressively into you, and you whined when you felt his dick brush up against you core, hard as a rock and hitting a spot that was making you lose your ability to see around you. He started moving his hips into yours, drawing circles into your pelvis and you matched him, desperate for release, desperate to want to give him your first of many orgasms of the night. You weren’t going to be satisfied until he made you cry in pain, in pleasure, until the line between them was blurred.

Neteyam saw your breathing quickened and he smirked in a way that only made further pleasure pool in your depths. “Coming already, my love? You wanted me that badly, huh?”

“Dick.”

“You’ll get that later, too.”

You wanted to laugh, but couldn’t do anything but mewl in agonising ecstasy as he hit a spot that immediately made you see stars and you rode out your first orgasm, crying into the crook of his neck.

“Good girl.” He didn’t let you come down from you high, as he removed your body from the tree and placed you on the mossy, comfortable ground, and both his hands went on your knees, making sure you were keeping them apart, as soon as he could feel you wanting to close them to accommodate for your post-orgasm sensitivity.

“No, Atan. You wanted this, remember? You have to keep your pretty legs spread for me.”

The entire world was spinning around you, a mess of purple, pink and white, as he traced his hands slowly, too slowly, painfully slowly up your thighs, until he reached your hips, where you loincloth was tightened, and you felt him make quick work of the knot, inhaling deeply as he took it off from you and saw you for the first time.

“Fuck, Atan. I feel like I could come just from looking at you. Look at you, a fucking writhing mess and I haven’t done anything yet. Look at this,” he said as he place a hand in between your folds, removing the slick that was so abundant it was now dripping down your ass, “Look at how wet you are for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet. The shit I want to do to you, Atan, will make Eywa regret ever making this tree part of the mating ritual.”

You saw him slowly lowering his head towards you legs, kissing and biting roughly up your thigh until you were screaming in pain. “Shh, Atan.” He drew circles in your thighs as he continued his onslaught to comfort you to some extent, except it was only lighting your skin on fire, only strengthening your need for that second release.

“Fuck, Neteyam, please.”

“Begging so soon, my love? What do you need?”

“You. Your tongue, your fingers, anything. Fuck, please!”

“Well, since you said please.”

He smirked again, the asshole, and you felt him licking your pussy from your entrance to your clit, and at the moan he released as he did so, you convulsed so violently you needed a while to settle, still trying desperately to close your thighs to make the sensation more bearable.

“Stop that, or I’ll stop. Do you want me to stop, my love?” He looked at you through hooded eyes and giving you a wild look that made you clench around nothing, and your hands found his head and you pushed him back into you, annoyed that he stopped, already upset at the thought that he wasn’t going to be doing this every minute for the rest of your life. If you had your way, he would. That’s all you would do. He laughed, but obliged, and continued his attack on your lips, messily kissing and licking, pushing his tongue deep within you, like your pussy held the potion for eternal life and he wanted to live in you forever.

“Fuck, Atan, you taste so good. So good, how am I ever supposed to stop, huh?” You started grinding your hips around him, moaning loudly and you saw him dry humping the ground, trying to get some of his own release. The primal animalistic action was enough to push you over the edge again, coming all over his tongue, that was still lapping at your insides, without any intention to stop.

You tried to push him away, the feeling so overwhelming it was bordering painful, your clit so red and sensitive now it was glaring and obvious, but he didn’t relent.

“Fuck, you are intoxicating. Come on, baby, I’m not nearly done. We’re not nearly done.” He pushed two fingers in you, which was incredibly easy with the amount of slick and cum you were continuously releasing. Although so sensitive, you immediately clenched around him, taking him in, and felt the familiar ache slowly building in you again. He pushed his fingers deeper, until his knuckles made contact with your folds, and you felt his thumb slowly, gently rubbing your throbbing clit as his fingers were hitting your g spot mercilessly. The stimulation was too much, and you felt yourself seeking yet another orgasm, bucking your hips wildly against his fingers.

“That’s right, Atan. Let me see you come all over my fingers.” That’s all you needed to hear, and almost on command, you felt yourself coating his long digits with your cum. He removed his fingers from inside you and you cried out at the loss, but he didn’t care, too busy staring at his fingers, covered in the clear viscous liquid enveloping them. He brought both fingers to his mouth and he took them both in and sucked on them, and immediately kissed you, messily and forcefully, and you moaned at the vulgarity of it, and the taste of your own orgasms on his tongue, which was exploring your mouth like he had your folds earlier. You loved it, loved all of it, drunk on the feeling, on the connection you felt to this man that knew you, so well, so deeply, knew your body instinctually, like he touched you and had you all his life, and you squirmed when you realised that now you had a whole life to do this, every day, you would never have to live without this feeling again.

“Do you feel how good you taste, Atan? Fuck. I will never get enough of this.”

With one swift motion, he removed your top from around your neck and took its place, squeezing your throat until you couldn’t breathe anymore, slowly choking you. You threw your head back and arched your back, eyes fluttering shut, just taking in this feeling, of being completely owned, completely in someone else’s control. It was exhilarating.

“Look at you. Look at how you give in to me, it makes me fucking crazy.” He squeezed harder. “You drive me fucking crazy. I have dreamt about fucking you for so long. So many nights, having to stroke my cock imagining it was your mouth instead, you have no idea how badly I need you. How entirely and completely yours I am. You own me. My soul and my mind. It’s only fair I own your body.”

The hand that wasn’t around your throat went to his loincloth, that he removed skilfully, letting it drop to the ground around him. Your eyes fluttered open to take him in, his glorious body and that magnificent cock, that was even bigger that you ever dreamt, and you struggled to gulp in the position you were currently in. Your pussy clenched fully at the sight, and you were drooling now, saliva pooling around your mouth that you licked off like a kitty looking at her favourite meal. His fist wrapped around the girth of his cock and he started pumping himself, and you were close to being done again just at the sight, never in your life seeing anything more sensual, more erotic. You needed him inside of you now.

“Fuck, please, Neteyam. I need you in me.”

“I know, Atan. I need to be in you. I need to feel you milking me, like the good girl I know you are.”

With a couple more strokes, he lined himself at your entrance and slowly, deliberately, agonisingly pushing in, one inch at a time, stretching you deliciously, fully until he bottommed out, and you could feel him hitting your cervix, you could see his bulge in your lower abdomen. It drove you to the point of madness.

Your hand went to his ass, trying to push him even further in, despite not thinking it was actually possible for him to go anywhere else, but it was still not enough, never enough.

He removed your hand and gathered both of them and pushed them above your head, pining them to the ground with enough force that you couldn’t move them anymore.

“No, Atan. You don’t get to dictate this. We go at my speed.” And with those words, he started rutting into you brutally, giving you no time to adjust to him or to the pace. It was rough and wild and out of control, everything you have ever desired in your darkest, best fantasies. It was so dirty, so wrong it made your insides squirm in pleasure, in uninhibited bliss.

He maintained his pace for so long it was enough to steal two more orgasms from you. You were on the verge of tears, now, so overstimulated you didn’t know if you were feeling pleasure or pain anymore, but you didn’t care, you wanted more, always more of this, more of him.

“Fuck, Atan, I can feel you squeezing me again. You think you can give me one more?” You nodded weekly, trying to match his ruthless pace.

“I want to come in this pretty pussy. You want me to fill you up, Atan?” You could only moan at the words, unable to formulate any coherent thoughts or sentences, anymore. You were way past that. Your breath quickened rapidly and you knew you were really close, and he could feel you too.

“Yeah, that’s right baby, come all over my cock. I want to feel you come undone.” Those words were enough to rip another explosive orgasm out of you, and your clenching milked his cock dry, feeling thick spurts of cum fill you up, painting your pink walls white.

He collapsed on top of you with a thud, still buried deep in you, and you couldn’t help laugh exhilaratingly at his reaction, at what just happened, at the fact his was all real, not just an out-of-reach fantasy.

Eventually, he rolled from on top of you and stretched out an arm for you to cuddle up to him, which you did, feeling grateful for every moment, grateful for the intimacy.

You were both still panting, still recuperating and you lay in his arms in peaceful bliss, trying to catch your breath.

“Thank you.” You said playfully, drawing circles on his chest.

“What for?”

“For being an even better lay than I always imagined you to be in my dreams. Although I’ll find it hard ever being a productive member of this clan again going forward.”

He threw his head back and laughed, and the sound filled the forest and your heart, so relieved to be able to hear it again, so immensely grateful to get to experience these feelings in your life, that didn’t end prematurely no matter how many bad decisions you have made.

“You’re very welcome, Atan.”

You peered up at him bashfully, and you knew then you did at least one thing right in this life.

You fell asleep in his arms, and woke up in the link room, wide smile on your face. Max was waiting for you, and he returned your smile when he saw how happy you were.

“You look happy.”

“It’s just been a good day.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.” He looked at you playfully. “Do me and Norm have to give you the talk?”

“Shut up, Max. In a completely unrelated subject, though, can I have some birth control from the medical ward, please?”

Your body was weak, and you needed a while to adjust to being back here after a whole day in your other body, soon to be your only body. You felt weightless, despite the pain, so happy and so in love. Your knees were weak from the memories, and you felt a bit empty at the lack of touch, craving him again, even though he’s taken so many orgasms from you, you knew you were going to be sore walking back to the village.

You went looking for Norm, who was already waiting for you in the medical ward, ready to give you a new dose of the injection and take some blood to see how everything is looking.

“It was a beautiful ceremony last night. Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Yeah, definitely did. It was incredible, I have never felt anything like it before.”

“Are you ready for tonight?”

“I think I am. I opened the drawer, little by little, Norm. I think it’s time. I am ready to take my place amongst the people, I am ready for my body to belong, I am ready to not have to worry that this virus will turn around and kill me at any point. My mum and dad both sacrificed so much for me to have a chance at a better life. You guys sacrificed so much. You’re like my guardian angels. I owe you so much, and I am so sorry about how I acted. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Will you still come by and hang out once in a while when you’re not busy riding your ikrans and being an overall badass?”

“Always, Norm. I am still me, I am still a scientist at heart, and I am still human. Maybe my body won’t be, but I will also have my mum and dad, you and Max, a whole history and heritage that I don’t want to rid myself of.”

“Good. Then all’s forgiven, Ace. I am sorry too, for not telling you about Neteyam. It just didn’t feel like my secret to share.”

“I understand.” You got up after he injected you with the treatment and hugged him tightly, grateful for this man who is your family just as much as your mum and the Sullys are.

After resting, eating and taking a nap, you did your dialysis session for the day, and although loopy, you hopped in your Avatar body, still a couple of things you wanted to take care of before the transfer.

To your surprise, you woke up in your tent, a small blanket covering you. You smiled, realising Neteyam must have carried you back in the morning. He even put your clothes back on. You blushed at the need that immediately overwhelmed your body, and tried to calm yourself as there were more pressing matters at hand.

You made your way to the Sully tent, and heard Neytiri and Mo’at talking. Good, two of the people you were looking for.

“Mai’te! How are you feeling?”

“I feel great, sa’nok (mother). Thank you for last night, it was beautiful.” Neytiri brought her hand to her mouth in slight shock at your new name for her. She was so happy, it all felt complete now, after all this time.

You took her free hand in yours as well as one of Mo’at’s, and looked at them seriously, intently.

“I want to ask for your permission for the transfer. I realise a lot of talk has happened, done when I was a human, when I was sick. But I am not sick anymore. I don’t want you to do it because you are worried I will die. I want to be sure, I want you to be sure, that you want me as a Na’vi forever. That you are comfortable with me becoming my Avatar for life. I will not do it, if you aren’t. This means so much for me, and I know I have been a coward, for so long, but I am ready now. I am standing here in front of you, and I am finally ready, to be one of the people, to be in this body, to be your daughter. I just hope I’m not too late.”

They both looked at each other, and smiled, and looked back at you lovingly.

“Mai’te, we have waited for you all of our lives. You are the missing piece in this world, in our world. You brought forth a cure for an illness that has plagued the Na’vi for years and years. There is nothing we would love more than for you to be Na’vi. And there will be no better future Tsa’hik.”

Your eyes widened at Mo’at’s words, at the consent not only to join the clan, this family, but to do so as Neteyam’s mate, as the future spiritual leader of the Omaticaya.

“I won’t let you down.” You hugged both of them, tears in your eyes.

You eventually made your way out of the tent and looked for the only other person you had to talk to before this was all done. Neytiri told you where he could be, so you looked there first. Sure enough, you found Lo’ak deep in thought up a tree, above everyone else, and you climbed easily and joined him. He was startled by you, but he composed himself quickly and gave you a look that you couldn’t quite place. You could tell he had conflicting feelings, happy on one hand to not have lost you in one way, sad that he did lose you in others.

“Hey.” He was curt, and didn’t look at you, and a twinge of hurt settled in your chest. You had to make this right.

“Hey, you. Scooch.” He moved slightly so you could fit with him on the branch, which was more than wide enough to accommodate both of you.

“Lo’ak… please talk to me? I can’t stand the thought that you hate me. You’re my best friend. Please?”

“Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“I saw you leaving with Neteyam last night, after the ceremony.”

You cringed a little, the thought of having this particular conversation with him close to unbearable.

“Yes, it’s true.”

Pain flashed across his face and you saw a tear, just one small tear, fall down his face. You reached to wipe it off, but he beat you to it, so you awkwardly let your hand drop.

“I’m sorry, Lo’ak. I’m so so sorry. But I have loved your brother my whole life. My whole life, ever since I was born, he was there. And I love you too, I love you so so much, but we wouldn’t be right together. You are the best guy in the world, and I am not even close to being worthy of you. Neteyam gets me. He gets the darkest side of me, he knows my darkest, worst secrets, he has been with me through some of my most traumatic moments. It’s never been that it’s not you. It’s just that it can’t be anyone else. My whole life, it was always going to be just him.”

“You are my best friend, and I will always be here for you. You will never lose me. You will never get rid of me. I found a season of Friends on my mum’s directory that I’m pretty sure we’ve never seen. I can’t do that with anyone else.”

“I know you are scared, and I think that’s why you asked me. Not because you think I’m the woman you want to grow old with, but because you’re scared that no one else will see you the way I do. And you’re wrong, Lo’ak. Everyone will see in time that you are the best person in the world. You are incredible. And so many girls will be falling at your feet soon, you will be angry at yourself for ever pining over someone like me. I know you are scared, but I am not going anywhere. Can you please forgive me?”

He turned and looked at you for a long time, intensely searching your face, maybe for a sign that you were lying, or exaggerating, but he couldn’t find any, as he eventually dropped his gaze and smirked playfully.

“Do you really think girls will be falling at my feet?”

“Yes, I really really do. You are a catch, mister.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically and let out an exasperated sigh.

“Well then, I have to forgive you.” You both laughed and your back pressed against the bark of the tree and you stretched your legs to sit in his lap.

“Now, about that season of Friends…”

You returned to your human form in the afternoon, and slowly started packing your life away, ready to relinquish this room, once your mothers, with deep sadness in your heart. You will all have to relocate from tomorrow, so you will probably not be back here except to help everyone else evacuate and move all the equipment. You’ll never be back here, you realised with a deep sigh. So many memories, so many bad ones, but so many good ones too, this place was your safe place, your little piece of heaven, despite all the hell you went through in it. As you packed all of your books and trinkets you collected in time, you found yourself tracing your fingers over every surface, trying to commit it to memory. The coffee stain on your desk that was made when Neteyam spilled your mug with his tail without meaning to. The scratches on one of the drawers from all the times you pulled on it with your finger, since the latch was a little broken and hard to open. The wear and tear from your ass print on the chair that you spent inordinate amounts of hours in, be it analysing data or watching shows, or reading with your feet carelessly stretched on the desk. You moved on to your bed, that you sat on, and you sighed at the thought of never being able to sleep on a bed again. You will miss the comfort of the mattress and the sheets, and the space to really spread out however much you wanted, looking like a little starfish every time Norm woke you up in the mornings and his subsequent laughter at your ridiculous poses.

It took a while, but you were done about an hour before eclipse. Neteyam knocked on your door, with eyes slightly widened at the state of the now empty room.

“I’ve never seen this place like this. It looks so barren without your touch.”

You sighed and tugged at the insides of your mouth with your teeth. “Yeah, it does.”

“Any regrets?” You turned around to face him, giving him a small reassuring smile and taking his hand in yours, the size difference always a stark contrast compared to your Avatar body.

“Never.” You eyed the bed playfully and raised an eyebrow, feigning timidity. “We still have some time… what could we possibly do to fill it, huh?”

He looked at you, and you could tell he was turned on out of his mind, but also gave you a reserved look. “We can’t… not like this, I will hurt you.”

“I don’t think you realise you’re not making the point you think you are.”

He closed the door behind him with his tail and stalked towards you. “Fuck, you will be the death of me, Atan.”

You made your way to the village a little after eclipse, and everyone was following you. All the humans, Norm and the other Avatars and Neteyam, who was carrying you on his back like you were his little backpack. You were flushed and a little disheveled from earlier, purple marks all over your body, but it didn’t matter. Your hours in this body were limited. In your back pocket of your shorts you had a box of birth control pills that Norm gave to you as you and Neteyam made it out of the room. You laughed at his reaction and yours, both of you awkward and embarrassed to have to address it whatsoever. You placed your head on Neteyam’s shoulder, peering up at the sky, like you used to do when you were little. The village was busy and roaring, everyone packing their lives up for the move tomorrow. People looked at you as you passed by, unfamiliar with your human form clinging to the future Olo’eyktan’s back. Jake and the rest of the family met you at the big bonfire.

“Heads up, everyone. It’s time!” You smiled, and looked next to him on the ground, where your Avatar body lay motionless and you had to take a second to take this all thing in, the weight of what you were about to do hitting you full force. You started breathing in deep, shallow breaths, and you felt Neteyam’s hands running up and down your thigh in a calming motion.

“You’ve got this. We’re all here for you.” You reached over and pecked his neck, in gratitude.

Everybody in the village, all the Na’vi were making their ways through the forest towards Vitraya Ramunong - they would all partake in the ritual. Neteyam was nervous, out of his mind with worry and fear, although he didn’t want to impart that to you, so he carried you gently, trying to be strong, as he was sure your mind was also laced with concerns. What if you didn’t come back? Neteyam quickly pushed the thought out of his mind and cursed it for making him think about such things, making his heart constrict in his chest in pain at the mere thought. Of course you would make it. A part of him was also excited about the ritual. It would be the first time anyone under 19 would get to see it, to experience it, it was only the third time it would have ever been performed. It was a powerful ritual, hence why they needed everyone.

The tree was as breathtaking as it always has been, and Neteyam had to inhale deeper to accommodate for the deep charge of the atmosphere, for the thickness of the air. He heard the ancestor’s voices, buzzing quietly all around him. As soon as you reached the natural platform on which the tree resided, Neteyam put you down next to his family and tried to not think of all the images flashing across his mind’s eye of all the unholy things you two did last night right in this spot. His grandma was giving out orders about where to place your Avatar.

“Are you ready?” Said Mo’at, in her usual no-nonsense fashion.You gulped loudly, and Neteyam couldn’t help wince. Everybody was on the edge.

“Yes, I think I am.” He saw you turn around to face him and the rest of the family, as well as Spider, Norm and Max.

“This is it, I guess.” You grabbed his mother and youngest sister’s hands in yours, and squeezed, a small tear falling down your face.

“I love you, guys. Thank you for everything all of you have done for me. I am so excited to join this clan and your family, forever.”

Neteyam watched as you lay on the ground, naked except for some leaves covering you. He was going to miss you, he realises. This body is the only one he’s known you as for 18 years. He’s spent so may days and nights with you, with this small person who had so much in her, so much beauty and intelligence, so much hurt and pain, so much personality, so much fierceness and grit and so much care and empathy, he didn’t know where it could all fit in such a tiny body. You’ve grown up together, a human and a Na’vi, learning so much from each other, adapting together to the world around you and to each other’s mind and soul. He was going to miss this body, the body he fell in love with, the toothy grin and wild eyes so unlike anything he’s ever seen, your beauty marks that he used to trace with his finger and eyes.. and mouth, as of a few hours ago. You were everything, and have always been regardless of your difference in species, and colour, and height. He mourned a little, he realised, for the you you’re leaving behind, but was also incredibly thrilled to have you as one of the people, as his mate, mother of his children, Tsa’hik, for the rest of his life.

He hovered over you the whole ritual, unnerved at the way the tendrils were emerging from the ground and slowly enveloping you, until there was almost no bare skin left to see. His skin was covered in goosebumps at the experience, as the chorus of people asking Eywa to grant you life in a new body, undulating their bodies in unison, and his grandma’s words. It was unlike anything he’s every experienced.

Tìng mikyun ayoheru rutxe, ma Nawma Sa'nok. (Hear us please, Great Mother)

Pori tireati, munge mì nga (Take this spirit into you)

Srung si poeru, ma Eywa (Eywa, help her)

Ulte tìng ayoer nì'eyng hu ngeyä ya (And breathe her back to us)

Srung si poeru, ma Eywa (Eywa, help her)

Tivìran po ayoekip (Let her walk among us)

Na Na'viyä hapxì! (As one of The People!)

Srung si poeru, ma Eywa (Eywa, help her)

Eventually, the ritual came to an end when Mo’at screamed for everybody to stop. Neteyam reached over to your face, and removed your mask, kissing your cheeks and your hands, and saying a quiet “I love you” before he moved on, anxiously waiting to see if you would open your eyes. He let out a panted breath as you did, smiling tiredly at the family who was now jumping on you, making you choke slightly.

You laughed and his eyes found yours in the manic scene unfolding in front of him. You smiled lovingly and reached out a hand for him to grab.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Atan. It’s good to see you.”

You were sad as you were carrying your body, you tiny human body in your arms, and lowering it in the ground next to the Home Tree. You saw your family place a flower each in the little cove where you now lay, and you carefully redirected an Atokirina towards it, and watched as it landed on you, making its home in the little gap made by your foetal position.

You will miss this body, and all the memories you made in it. You will miss looking in the mirror and seeing your mother’s eyes and hair, you will miss being able to play her guitar. This body, however tiny and weak, was your home for 18 years, and it has stood by you no matter how many times you treated it badly or betrayed it. It kept you alive in a world that could kill you in an instant, and you were sorry to have to leave it behind.

“Thank you. Thank you, mum and dad, for giving me life and gifting me this body. Thank you for taking care of me, I know it wasn’t easy to keep up with this messy mind. Thank you.”

You turned around and fixed your gaze on your mate, the love of your life, the one that made it all bearable, and when met with his dazzling warm smile and his touch that set your soul ablaze, you couldn’t help be excited at the adventures that lay ahead of you, that you will always brave together.

-the end-

EPILOGUE

The man felt weak and dizzy, the entire room spinning and making him well nauseous. He didn’t know what was happening, what any of this was. He saw a bright light flashing across his eyes and he groaned in pain and annoyance at the way it was making his vision spotty. He grasped the hand of whoever it was that was doing this to him, and he was relieved when it stopped. It took him a long time to adjust to his surroundings, and was met with shock when realising he was in some sort of medical ward, surrounded by people in white coats. His gaze fixated on his hand, that was still wrapped around someone’s wrist, and couldn’t understand what he was seeing in front of him. Blue. A blue striped hand, that supposedly belonged to him.

“Captain, Captain Barlowe, can you hear me? You’re ok, you’re just disorientated. It’s gonna take a while to settle your mind, so take you time.”

He raised assertively from the bed he was laying on and made his way to the reflective windows all around him. He stood there, still, just taking it all in, finding it hard to understand, to process what was clearly displayed in front of the mirror. His body, in an Avatar.

“Captain Barlowe, due to your outstanding military record and previous acquiescence with this project, you have been chosen as one of the select few to carry out a special op on Pandora. You will be briefed shortly, but right now we have to make sure everything is in order.”

“I’ll be damned.”

For everyone who’s made it this far, I am so excited to announce the sequel series, The Archer, that will tackle all of the events of the Way of Water x coming to you soon 💕💕

Tag list (thank you thank you thank you x): @nuhteyam @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @mashiromochi @puffb4ll @sassy-persona @simp4ff @mommyneytiri @inomoikawa @jackiehollanderr @jaysarchiv3 @meivap @dakotali @hlhl99 @eskamybeloved @erenjaegerwifee @winchestertitties @mommyneytiri @ultimatebluff @elizarikaallen @yeosxxx @ssc7514 @lolcaca @jackiehollanderr @bunnyrose01 @therealbloom @neteyams-queue @r1dd1kulus @whore4neteyam

@kikookii @iliyoo @velvetskies @rebeccao03 @im-in-a-pansexual-panik

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imagines--galore · 19 days ago

Text

||The Thread of Fate|| Part Thirty-Five

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Masterlist

A/N: EMBER ISLANDS!!!!! WOOHOOO!!!!!! FINALLY! I am so so so excited for the next chapters! And guy seriously if you have any scenarios or moments you might want to see between Zuko and Orora or even the whole Gaang or any interactions between any characters let me know!

The first night was spent out in the courtyard.

Katara had been so exhausted that the second she had laid down on her bed roll, she'd been asleep. The rest of them had tip-toed around her, going about their business of making and eating food. Sokka had quickly asked Orora to leave a bowl of food out for Katara. In case she woke up in the middle of the night and was hungry.

Orora watched as Sokka set the bowl beside his exhausted sister. She didn't even stir when Sokka adjusted her blanket to cover her properly.

"You know, she didn't mean what she said." The older girl glanced beside her at Toph, who was finishing off the last of her food. "That you're not a part of the family." The girl clarified, and though her words were meant to be comforting, Orora couldn't help but feel a twinge of ache inside her. Setting aside her half-finished bowl, the girl swallowed against the strange feeling that rose within her.

"I can pretend how much I want Toph." She said in a low voice. "But what she said is true. I'm not a part of their family." Playing around with her rice with her chopsticks, the Waterbender shrugged, giving a small teary smile. "But they are a part of my family." She nudged the girl sitting next to her. "Just like you."

Which was why Toph had been the first person she'd gone to after Katara and Zuko had ridden off on Appa. She'd ranted until she had no more words left. And once she was done, Toph had been the one to reassure her that Katara would be alright.

"She's a good person with a good heart Orora." The girl had said, finding it strange that, for once, she was the one comforting the older girl. "When the time comes, she'll make the right decision."

And she had.

Seems Orora had nothing to worry about.

Though given how much she tended to worry, Orora was beginning to wander if perhaps Yue had given her the patch of white hair so she wouldn't start growing actual white hair out of the worry and anxiety she felt all the time when it came to the people she cared about.

"So, this was like your vacation home when you were a kid?" Suki asked as they finished up their dinner. Zuko nodded, glancing around at the pathway that ran along the entire courtyard, leading away into the rooms. "That was a long time ago." The boy said. "The last time we came here was a year before my cousin and Uncle went to the war front. Since then, no one has been here."

Aang raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Then why was the door kicked down when we came in?" He asked, lifting his bowl of food towards his mouth and taking a bite. Suddenly looking sheepish, Zuko's eyes darted towards Orora briefly before he explained. "I came here a couple months ago, when my father sent my sister and I out on a forced vacation." Toph snorted. "And what, you couldn't walk in like a random person?" She asked, her tone obviously mocking, one that had Sokka sniggering to himself.

Annoyed, Zuko pursed his lips. "I was working through some stuff." He grumbled. Sokka rolled his eyes. "You're always working through some stuff Zuko. Should we keep an eye on you? Make sure you don't kick down any more doors?" His eyes landed on Momo who was happily chomping away on a fruit. The boy grinned. "Maybe we should have Momo follow you around. Keep you from harming unsuspecting doors."

They were all laughing now, except for Zuko, who glanced at Momo. The flying-lemur glanced back at the human.

Before quickly gathering his fruit and dashing off to hide behind Orora.

"Ouch."

————————–

She had wanted to go to sleep, she really had. But there was something nagging her. At the back of her mind, something was pushing her to ask what she wanted to. She'd caught Zuko's eye while everyone had begun to lay down their sleeping bags. Motioning to the dark corridor that led to the inner rooms of the house, Orora stood from where she'd been adding logs to the fire to keep it going through the night.

Even though it was Summer, the wind coming in from the sea was chilling at night.

Zuko, dropping his sleeping mat on the floor, walked after the retreating form of his girlfriend. He found her waiting for him, leaning against the side of the many windows that ran along the corridor. She was gazing down to the beach, where the waves were crashing against the shore. The sound of the waves breaking was quite prominent even this far up.

It was calming.

"About Katara." She began, raising her eyes to Zuko. The girl had thought her questions about the younger girl's well being would be endless. But all that came out of her mouth was: "Is she really alright?"

Sighing, Zuko rubbed the back of his neck, pursing his lips before he spoke. "As well as she could ever be after the confrontation with the man who killed her mother." Orora tried not to wince at his bluntness, but her features twitched anyway. "She was quiet, the whole ride back, like I told you. And after that I went to get you guys, and then when she was speaking to Aang, she finally forgave me for all that I did."

Orora smiled, peace settling in her heart. Perhaps now Katara wouldn't be so opposed to her and Zuko being Soulmates.

But then she remembered the tiny detail Zuko had mentioned while he told them all of what had happened. "Did she......did she really use blood-bending? On that man?" She asked, her voice hoarse as she wrapped her arms around herself, as if her body could feel the phantom pain of how that felt.

To have someone take control of your body.

To make it do things that were out of your control.

She remembered how devastated Katara had been. How she had broken down after the run-in they had with Hama.

Zuko frowned, looking to the side, unable to fathom the fear in Orora's eyes at the mere mention of such a dangerous bending form. She had told him about it. He had never thought he would witness it.

"She did." He admitted. "She allowed her feelings of hatred and rage rule her, take over her completely." Closing his eyes, he sighed sadly, before lifting his head to look at Orora. "Anger is an ugly emotion Orora. It takes hold of you. Every fiber of your being is a slave to it, and there is nothing you can do about it. You loose your true self to it. But Katara was strong." He was quick to amend. "She was strong and though she made a few mistakes, she broke through."

He paused. "I know more then anyone how anger can take over your entire life. I almost let it ruin the best thing that could ever happen to me." His lips pulled in a small smile as he gazed at his Soulmate. "Katara fought against that rage, and she won."

Though there was a part of her that believed that speaking to Katara would reassure her fears, Orora couldn't help but feel her entire body relax at Zuko's reassurance. Her heart lightened, and new hope breathed into her.

A hope that made her believe that she had her sister back.

With one final sigh, she allowed her worries to rest completely. "I'm glad you helped her out Zuko." She admitted. "She wouldn't have allowed anyone else to help her, so I'm happy she had someone that I could trust to keep her safe."

The pride was obvious in Zuko's expression as he smiled at Orora. "Yeah, well, I had to get her to forgive me somehow. I mean I couldn't have your sister disapproving of me when I finally took you out on that date." He had laughter in his eyes, a sight she never got tired of seeing.

Humming, the girl shrugged. "She'll find some other reason to disapprove of us. Though it wouldn't be as bad as what was before." She teased, knowing it would only make Zuko nervous about the situation.

And it did.

His shoulders dropped, as did his smile.

Orora laughed softly to herself as she walked towards him. "So try to stay in her good graces now that you're there." She advised. Leaning up, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

"Good night."

With that she walked away, leaving Zuko to stay back for a few moments longer, his mind working a mile a second as he thought of what he had to do to achieve something he'd been waiting a long time for.

And his mind kept racing with ideas until he fell asleep underneath the open sky with the stars twinkling down at him.

The reason behind his thoughts asleep just a foot or so away from him.

————————–

"I cannot believe I am spending my day cleaning your house."

"Technically it belongs to my Dad."

"I'm slaving away for the Fire Lord. That's even worse!"

"You know if you shut your mouth and focus on cleaning, we might get this done much faster."

"Oh no. If I'm gonna clean this place, I will be complaining every second of it."

Zuko resisted the urge to throw the already dirty rag at Sokka's face. But he didn't have to, since Katara walked by just then. "If you're done complaining Sokka, you missed a spot." She gestured to the roof which had several cobwebs hanging from the ceiling.

Since they would be staying in the house, Katara had suggested that they clean up some parts of it. Areas that would be in their use, and not have them sneeze and cough every time they went from outside and into the dust and sand covered rooms.

Muttering under his breath, Sokka lifted the long piece of wood that had a cloth wrapped around it, wiping away at the cobweb. Thinking that perhaps his sister's presence would keep him from complaining, Zuko turned back to his task. "How come Toph and Aang get to sit out?" Sokka bemoaned, finding yet another thing to complain about.

The Prince gritted his teeth, fighting with all his strength not to hit the water tribe boy over the head.

"They're not sitting out, they're training. Really Sokka, its not like you have to clean the whole house. Just the rooms we'll be sleeping in." Katara looked around. "Is Orora here?" She asked, her voice sounding just as tentative as she looked. Zuko glanced over at her, as Sokka responded. "She went to the other room with Suki." He said, oblivious to the turmoil his sister felt at the moment. Nodding, the young waterbender Master walked out. And no sooner had her steps receded, when Zuko was following her.

"Hey! Where're you going?" Sokka called out to his retreating back. "Katara's gonna go talk to Orora and I wanna hear it." Call him nosy, but he wanted to listen to what the two girls had to say. Especially since he would be one of the topics of the conversation. "You coming?" Glancing at the dusty, cobweb covered stick he was holding, Sokka allowed it to fall to the floor before following after Zuko.

————————–

Swinging her legs from where she sat atop the newly cleaned counter that ran along the length of the kitchen, Suki watched Orora as she bended water along the surface of the floor. "I feel bad that I'm not doing anything." She said, her eyes tracking how every last grain of sand and dust was taken away by the water Orora was moving to and fro.

"Well think of it this way, I'm practicing my bending by you not taking part in the cleaning." Orora said, lifting the water in the form of a bubble and throwing it out of the window and into the foliage that surrounded the house. "And with that we are done." The girl said, looking around at the recently clean kitchen with a proud grin. Suki nodded. "It looks good." She giggled. "The boys won't be happy with us for finishing our work so easily and with barely any effort."

Orora waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, let them inhale some dust clouds. Might do their egos some good." The two girls laughed, missing Katara as she stood at the entrance to the kitchen. The younger waterbender girl cleared her throat, catching their attention.

"Suki, I need you to bring the food and pots from the courtyard please." The girl said with barely a glance in the Suki's direction, before her eyes met Orora's.

Sensing the sudden shift in the air as the two Water Tribe girl continued to look at each other, Suki nodded. "Yeah sure Katara!" Jumping down from her seat, the girl began to retreat. "I'll just go!"

Though the moment she stepped outside the door, the girl flattened herself against the wall next to the kitchen and just about held her breath, waiting for the conversation to begin.

Her surprised eyes landed on Sokka and Zuko, who were pressed up against the wall opposite her. The three of them glanced at each other, before coming to a mutual agreement.

And continued to eavesdrop.

"Was there something you needed to say to me Katara?" Alright so maybe she was being a little cold towards the girl, but whatever Katara had been going through in that moment, what she had said hurt more then the other girl's rejection of her and Zuko's bond.

The younger girl bit her lower lip, guilt gnawing at her from within. "I....." She trailed off. "I have a lot of things to say, but I think I should start with, I'm sorry." She choked out, feeling the lump in her throat growing as tears burned behind her eyes.

"Orora I am so sorry about what- I was just so angry at the time, and I said some horrible things." Katara's gaze was pleading as she continued to look at Orora. "And I'm also sorry about the way I treated you and Zuko when you decided to give him another chance. I let my anger cloud my....well....my everything." Honestly, Katara was at a loss. She was usually so good when it came to voicing what she was feeling out loud, but in that moment, watching her older sister look at her with that strange expression on her face, words failed her.

A look that was a cross between endearment and sorrow.

Maybe she had rushed into it. Maybe she should've given Orora a little bit of distance before approaching her with an apology. Give them both some time. But, in truth, Katara didn't want to wait.

She missed her sister. She missed their talks, Orora's playful teasing, their waterbending sessions. Not to mention the knowledge that no matter what, Orora would always have her back.

Not that Katara had ever doubted it even when they weren't speaking to one another.

"I can't pretend that what you said didn't hurt." The older girl finally spoke, her voice soft and gentle, which only made Katara's heart twinge with guilt. "And that when you were against my decision to try to be with my Soulmate, I felt like I had been betrayed by my own sister."

Katara couldn't help the whispered apology that echoed in the otherwise empty room.

"But I'm not going to hold anything against you." Orora revealed, chuckling when she saw the obvious expression of shock shoot across Katara's face. "We've had too many bad and-and negative feelings cooped up inside us Katara." She continued. "And I just don't want to feel them anymore. I'm tired of being sad, or angry, or depressed all the time over something."

She sighed. "And I just want it to stop."

A moment of silence, where neither girl moved or said anything.

Before Katara shot forward and Orora raised her arms, gathering her younger sister in an embrace that was returned just as lovingly as it was given.

Just beyond the two hugging sisters, three heads floated, partially hidden behind the doorway.

Suki, with a smile on her lips, glad her friends had finally made peace. Zuko, with a look of satisfaction, ecstatic for his Soulmate to have her sister back.

And Sokka?

Well......

"That was beautiful!" He sobbed, stumbling to stand in the doorway, tears streaming down his cheeks. The two girls turned to look at him with identical expressions of bemusement. Orora raised an eyebrow. "Really Sokka, you're overreacting a little." She said, but her words were met with a comically loud sob as Sokka launched himself forward, wrapping an arm around each girl's shoulder and hugging them, or rather squishing them together.

Completely ignoring their protests as he pressed a rather messy kiss on each of their cheeks.

"Gross! Sokka get off!"

————————–

They were at the last stages of their clean up.

Aang and Toph had returned awhile ago, and Katara was having Aang airbend some of the cobwebs that were too far out of any of their reach. And since Orora was finished with sweeping the floor with water and collecting the dust and sand, she was quick to escape to the inner courtyard and settle herself down next to Toph.

"How was training?" She asked, watching Toph break some nuts open with a small swipe of a rock she was bending. "Twinkletoes still has a long way to go before he can call himself a Master." She revealed, smashing some nuts open and handing them out for Orora to take. The older girl muttered her thanks before popping them in her mouth.

"You really think stealing Aang's secret stash is gonna win you any points with him?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at the small sack of walnuts she'd seen Aang sneak out and eat from on several occasions.

Toph grinned. "Nope. But maybe it'll teach him to hide his food better." She laughed, before finishing off the last of the nuts. Orora simply shook her head, making a mental note to buy Toph her own bag of nuts to snack on later. As well as a new bag for Aang, since Toph finished his. "So, how're you holding up?" The older girl asked, stretching her legs out in front of her, her hands resting against the floor behind her as she leaned back slightly. The younger girl frowned. "What do you mean? Am I supposed to be holding something up?" She asked, to which Orora shook her head, smiling softly though looking sad at the same time.

"I mean how're you holding up with The Duke not being around." She elaborated.

And her words were met with complete silence.

A silence that stretched on for a good few minutes before Toph was finally able to speak. The question had come so out of the blue that the girl was actually at a loss for words. A first for her, since she was always prepared with a snippy quip for anyone who happened to come her way.

"I haven't actually really allowed myself to think about that." She finally admitted, frowning slightly as she did. "Because when I do, I feel this really overwhelming feeling. And I don't like it." She admitted, crossing her arms over her chest defensively, as if she could shield herself from within from feeling what she was in that moment.

Orora nodded, reaching out to gently lay a hand on Toph's forearm. "Like you left a piece of yourself behind?" She asked, her voice soft and comforting as she shifted a little closer to the girl. Toph, sensing the shift, didn't hesitate to lay her head down against Orora's shoulder, drawing comfort from her older sister's presence. Feeling more then a little overwhelmed, and not trusting herself to speak, she simply nodded. Drawing her arm up to wrap around Toph's shoulders, Orora gave her a squeeze.

"I know it feels really difficult, and honestly, it does suck. But trust me when I say that when you meet him again, there is no other feeling like it."

Loud voices approaching had the waterbender looking up in the direction of the owners, namely Zuko and Aang who were now done with their tasks and walking towards the courtyard as well. "Believe me." Orora said, her ice blue gaze never wavering from the unaware Zuko. "I know."

Toph, sensing the two boys approaching shook her head. "Don't you go going all sappy with me, Ice Princess." She teased, glad to have spoken to Orora, and getting everything off her chest. She would still miss The Duke, but the promise of their meeting again had all her worries slowly disappearing.

Rolling her eyes, Orora gave the girl a playful shove, before pushing down the green headband she always wore. In response, Toph flicked her foot upwards, causing the earth underneath the wooden platform they were sitting on to shift and send Orora sprawling to the side.

"Toph!" She called out, rubbing the back of her head. The blind girl only grinned. "What're you complaining about?" She asked, sensing Zuko's steps rushing to where Orora had fallen and helping her sit up. "You have Firebug's arms around you now don't you?"

Orora pursed her lips, blue eyes shining with annoyance, despite the blush that painted her dark brown skin because yes, she didn't particularly mind the position she was in right then. Zuko chuckled under his breath, prompting Orora to punch his arm. "Don't encourage her." She admonished him.

Toph laughed loudly, standing up and throwing the now empty bag of walnuts in Aang's direction. "You're welcome!" She called over her shoulder as she walked away, leaving Aang to groan over the loss of his snack.

————————–

Once everything was clean, everyone had settled down for the night. There wasn't a shortage of rooms in the house, but for some reason, they'd all opted to sleep together in the living area of the house. It was large enough for all of them to fit in comfortably, and it opened up to the courtyard outside where Appa would sleep.

Inwardly, Orora was glad they weren't sleeping in separate rooms. She liked being near all of them, knowing everyone was safe and sound asleep.

Plus she'd kind of gotten used to sleeping with Zuko's face just a few feet away from her own. More then once she had fallen asleep while simply looking at his face. Then again, he had done the same every night since he'd gotten her back.

They'd all been much to exhausted to stay up long and chat that night.

Which was why they were all up bright and early the next morning. Aang and Zuko had gotten up even earlier to practice their firebending. Orora was just waking up when they returned. She was a little miffed about it, having wanted to see how Aang was progressing and to see Zuko use his firebending from a source that was other then anger and rage.

"We need to go into town." Katara stated as she surveyed a rather long piece of paper that she held. Everyone looked up from where they'd been finishing their breakfast. "We're almost out of food." The waterbender continued. "We need to get a few other supplies, and get Suki a new outfit." She added, glancing in the girl's direction who gave a nod of agreement. Sokka frowned. "Whats wrong with what she has on?" He asked, to which Suki, Katara and Orora all threw him a look.

"Sokka, do you really expect me to walk around in prison clothes?" His Soulmate asked, raising an eyebrow at him. The boy shrugged. Personally, he didn't think it mattered. They were just clothes. Then again, he did like his girlfriend in her Kiyoshi outfit more, so maybe it did matter.

Aang looked around at the group. Each of them supporting the colors of their Nation. "Well, if we're gonna go out and explore, its best we change into our Fire Nation disguises." He suggested. The new information had Zuko looking around. "Fire Nation disguises?" He asked, to which Toph nodded. "What we wore while we roamed around the Fire Nation before the Invasion. We really blend in rather well." She said, already standing up to get ready. Sokka grinned. "Maybe I can wear my beard again!" He stated gleefully, before racing off at a speed that left Orora thinking that he was maybe part Airbender.

"So wait, we're all going shopping?" Zuko asked, looking around as everyone dispersed, eager to change and get out of the dreary house. Katara rolled her eyes. "Of course we're all going Zuko." She smiled. "Its more fun to go as a group. And its been ages since we went out and just explored." With that she grabbed Orora's elbow, who grabbed Toph, and disappeared to the rooms where they had stored their supplies.

Leaving Suki and Zuko behind to clean up.

————————–

"No! Absolutely not!" Suki stated with a tone of finality in her voice.

"Awww but why?!"

"Sokka, it makes you look ridiculous."

"I thought you would think it made me look dignified."

"If you mean dignified-edly horrible, then yes, you're right."

Sokka pouted, though it was rather hard to see with the huge bushy beard he was wearing. Toph, who had been listening to the exchange while leaning against the broken door of the house, grinned. "I think you look dignified Sokka." She called out, prompting Zuko and Aang to snigger as Sokka turned to Toph with a hopeful look on his face.

"Thanks Toph! I knew I could-" He cut himself off, catching the wide grin on Toph's face. Scowling, he yanked at the beard, he pulled it off and tossed it aside, grumbling certain words under his breath that would have him earning two swats over the head by his sisters.

Who still hadn't appeared yet.

"Where are they?" Zuko asked impatiently, a little annoyed that he wasn't using the time to have Aang run through some fire drills again. While he was supporting a cloak with a hood to hide his face, Aang adjusted the tall hat he had found in the closets of the house, hiding his blue tattoos from sight. "Is this your first time waiting for a girl to get dressed Zuko?" He asked. The Prince's mind flashed back to the time when he had waited for Orora to come down from the apartment when they were supposed to go serve tea to the Earth King.

He remembered what his Uncle had said. “You should prepare yourself for such tardiness my nephew. A lady always takes her time. But it is always worth the wait.”

"Hey, I'm a girl and I got ready quicker then they did." Toph pointed out. Footsteps from within the house caught their attention, with Katara stepping out first. "That's because you opted to not take a bath after all that cleaning Toph, and Orora and I like to feel clean." Toph rolled her eyes as Orora stepped out as well.

"Its called a healthy coating of dust Sugar Queen." She argued, though the rest of whatever she said was barely heard by Zuko as his eyes found Orora and he stared at what he saw.

His Soulmate, in the clothes of his Nation.

Orora, wearing Fire Nation clothing.

The mere sight of her had his lips parting, and eyes widening in utter amazement. The bandeau top she wore just about covered her chest area, leaving the rest of her torso, namely her shoulders and navel completely bare. And though the bare navel did show the scar she now supported, that ran along her side, it was hardly noticeable against her dark brown skin. Her pants were cinched in just below her knees, and the skirt she'd wrapped around her hips only accentuated the curve of her body. A trait he had noticed before. Though now he could admire it more openly. Her shoes, funnily enough, were identical to the ones he wore, probably because they were the latest fashion.

The accents of gold along the edges of her clothing only enhanced the gorgeous color of her skin, as she pulled up the armbands that reached her elbows.

Her hair was completely down, the tips brushing her shoulder, settling in soft curls against her bare skin. Only a small portion of it pushed to the side to keep the hair from falling into her face. It was, of course, in place with the help of the blue comb he had returned to her.

His Uncle was right.

It was worth the wait.

There were only a handful of times Zuko had been struck speechless by someone.

And it seemed Orora had the honor of being the one to render him voiceless more times then anyone else.

Adjusting her armbands in place, Orora glanced up to see Zuko staring at her. She couldn't help but feel a blush crawling up her neck and blooming in her cheeks, the intensity of his gaze prompting her to suddenly feel shy and avert her eyes from him, brushing her hair behind her ear.

To say the both of them were as subtle as Appa in a china shop would be an understatement. Aang and Sokka were making faces at one another, identical expressions of playful disgust as they waited for the two Soulmates to break out of their little bubble. Toph had the honor of feeling both their heartbeats reach to a crescendo level. She couldn't help but grin though, already preparing a wide variety of teasing quips and jokes that she would be throwing at them both later. Suki, for all her tough warrior act, was a romantic at heart. And she could only exchange a happy smile with Katara, who had secretly planned the entire entrance because yes, she was going to help her older sister out by making Zuko see just how amazing she was.

Not that he didn't know that already.

"Are we waiting for anyone else?" Katara asked, still smiling as she finally broke the bubble the two Soulmates were happily encased in. Zuko's cheeks burned red as he quickly pulled up the hood of his cloak to try and hide his face. A little too late for that though.

"Yeah, we're just waiting for Zuko to pick up his jaw from the floor." Aang said, before bursting out into a laugh that had him leaning against Sokka for support, who wasn't any better, since he was laughing his head off just as hard as Aang was.

Suki grinned devilishly as she hooked her arm through Orora's and began to lead her down the steps. As she did, the two girls passed Zuko, and Orora's hand brushed against his.

By accident or on purpose.

Neither of them knew.

But what they did know, was that the small patch of skin where they had touched, seemed to zing with an electric charge that they both felt. One that had Orora nearly reaching out and taking his hand, just so she could feel more of that heart stopping sensation. And she would've done it too, if Suki hadn't been pulling her along.

Despite the fact that she could feel the cool sea air against her bare skin, Orora had never felt hotter before as she did under Zuko's gaze. Though this heat had nothing to do with the elements.

Oh no, this one seemed to come from inside her. And only wanted to burn brighter, engulf her entire body, mind and soul.

"Since I want my Soulmate to look at me like that as well." Suki declared, pulling Orora out of her mind as she pried her away away from Zuko's molten gold gaze. "I vote Orora to help me find the perfect outfit." She threw over her shoulder, grinning at the scowl on Zuko's face, knowing she had annoyed him by stealing Orora away.

As the rest of them moved to follow, Toph grinned. "I hope you're ready Firebug. Cuz none of us are gonna let you live this down."

Sighing, Zuko reminded himself that it was his choice to make friends with all of them. The added bonus? He was close to Orora.

So if he had to endure a little teasing as a price, then it was all worth it.

And despite what was to come, and knowing anyone could see him and tease him even more for it, his eyes never once left Orora's figure as she walked in front of him.

————————–

Tag List - @wavesofchaos @violet-potter @rennysketch @emma-andrea1 @lovesammikinzz @fuzzyfestcat @msrawog @notsaelty @lust-for-pan @aces-tattooartist @jinxxangel13 @lotr-got @bitterspoons @realrintaro @gatorgirl151 @inutheangel @heartfully10 @lucaaahhh @juniper-july19 @anuttellaa @gfksz @bussyvussy @punksnotdeadbutiam @ablofftoneverland-blog-blog @slut-for-menn @vyliie @army-moa75 @juwhls @aqlodun @lovelybaka @glowyruby @niktwazny303 @ladystrawberry

#the thread of fate #avatar the last airbender fanfiction #zuko x oc #zuko #avatar the last airbender #zuko imagine #atla zuko #fire lord zuko #prince zuko #atla #netflix avatar #avatar: the last airbender #avatar #avatar aang #sokka #suki #katara #toph #iroh

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broken-glowsticks · 10 months ago

Text

What Once was Mine

Chapter 11 - When, How, and Why

Genre: Childhood friends, Eventual Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Love corner/love triangle, love rivals, Series.

NOT ALL CHAPTERS WILL BE PROOF READ!!

Warnings: 18+, mdni, mentions of sex and alcohol consumption, additional warnings will be added to individual chapters as needed.

Additional warnings: mentions of explicit sex, loss of virginity, fingering (f receiving), piv, mentions of an underage related, mentions of bruises and bodily harm, slight angst.

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“What do you mean he almost kissed you?!” Felix's deep baritone ricocheted off the walls of his room, immediately followed by your hasty shushing.

“Ssshhhh! Felix, shut your face! I don't want Chan to hear!”

“Chan's elbows deep in work right now, his headphones are basically fused to his head. He's not going to hear anything.” Felix retorted, grabbing your wrists and removing the hands you had shoved against his mouth to shut him up. He didn't let you go, though. “Now spill,” he commanded, pulling you closer, a devious smile on his lips, “what exactly happened?”

With a sigh, you pulled your hands from Felix's grasp. Scooting closer to him on his bed, you tried to keep your voice down as you relayed the events that had happened the previous night.

“No fucking way, you little tease!” Felix basically sang as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, drawing you in to roughly nuzzle you.

“Ow, ow, ow, Felix, knock it off!” You whined, shoving him off you and yanking away the pillow he was leaning on as a form of cover. Felix only giggled.

“Alright, joking aside,” Felix began, once again pulling you in but gentler this time. “How do you feel about what almost happened?”

You sighed. Laying down, you rested your head on Felix's leg, gathering your thoughts as he began to tenderly stroke your hair. How did you really feel about Hyunjin almost kissing you?

“I feel like there's something going on that he's not telling me.”

“Okay, elaborate?”

“Hyunjin… struggles to communicate how he feels, he always has. The sex… always meant more.”

“More for him? I thought it was just something casual?” Felix meant no harm in his questions, genuinely wanting to understand. Before tonight, Felix didn't know Hyunjin as anything other than an obstacle to you and Changbins’ budding relationship. Everything he's ever learned about the guy has come from Jisungs’ blatant and self-admitted biased view. And while you knew Felix was still trying to sort things out, it still stung to be reminded how much you wished the sex with Hyunjin meant something different than it did. But you never pushed. You never dared to expose yourself like that because the entire time you were with him, you knew what those moments meant for Hyunjin.

“Hooking up…” you began, trying to find the words to properly express yourself, “sure, we would sometimes do it for fun or to de-stress, but that's not how it started.”

“Then… how did it start?” Taking your face in his hands, Felix leaned over, meeting his eyes with yours. “If the sex wasn't mainly just for fun, then what made you two start up in the first place?”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. You struggled to hold Felix's gaze, but he asked, and you've never spoken about this to anyone, not even Jisung, who's known you since before Hyunjin even re-entered your life. You don't know why you never spoke about it, maybe it was time.

“Alright, let's get some snacks and something to drink, I might get emotional.”

○●♡☆♡●○

You sniffled as you curled yourself further under your fluffy comforter, makeup smearing against your pillow - you didn't care, you were too heartbroken. Tonight was supposed to be the best date of your teenage life, never would you have thought someone from Hyunjins untouchable circle would take any kind of interest in you, you always assumed they thought too highly of themselves based on how they acted in the halls. Turns out you were right.

You had planned this night for days. All dressed up in the new outfit you had gotten at the mall with Jisung and his girlfriend, even tentatively donning the pretty lingerie set you had snuck off to buy in the event things got heated and felt right. Your parents weren't home, set to be gone until some time tomorrow afternoon. You had made a simple dinner and picked out a few movies to possibly rent in the event the night stayed chaste. Everything was all set, yet as time ticked by, you began to worry. When your dates' appointed arrival time came and went, you began to get nervous, texting him and Hyunjin in an attempt to get ahold of the elusive boy.

You weren't expecting Hyunjin to be able to do much, he had mentioned he had plans of his own and would check in whenever he had the time, but so far he had only been able to reply twice - both times before your date was even meant to begin. At least Hyunjin managed to reply at all. You had debated over calling Jisung, but you very much didn't want to deal with the embarrassment of admitting you may have gotten stood up because he was so against the date in the first place, only helping because you expressed it was something you really wanted. Maybe you should call your date? Not wanting to seem clingy and give him the benefit of the doubt you simply assumed his phone had died or something of the sort, leading you to lay on the couch to wait for him, eating chocolate and ice cream with some random YouTube videos playing to fill the dead air as you scrolled social media. That's when you saw it.

You had followed this boy on Instagram a little bit ago, hanging on his every post as a way to glean more knowledge of him, but at this moment you wished you didn't even know about his Instagram page at all. There, at the very top of your feed, was a carousel of images of him at a party, an impossibly gorgeous girl clinging to him like shrink wrap.

A burn scorched your throat as it tightened, your heart dropping to your stomach. Hot, angry tears welled in your eyes as, stupidly, you tapped on his profile picture and pulled up his stories, the time stamp indicating he posted only minutes ago. He looked like he was having so much fun, especially with that girl who was showing up often. The final nail in the coffin was when you saw your would-be date's final story, where - presumably - one of his friends had filmed him explicitly licking whipped cream off the girl's chest. Broken and disgusted, you aggressively dashed away your phone, escaping your room to wallow in your sorrows. You stayed there, sobbing, until you had no more tears to give, seeking solace within the plush embrace of your bed.

You were unsure when you started debating over cleaning up, maybe eating the dinner you made - no point in letting good food go to waste. You had only just managed to sit upright in your bed when you heard the tell-tale sign of a fist thrashing against your door, frequent ringing of your doorbell accompanying. The barrage of noise startled you into place, and you thought about pretending you weren't even home, but the sounds of a well-known voice shouting through the wood eased your nerves.

“Y/N? Beautiful, it's me, open up!!” Hyunjins strained voice shouted, screaming at the top of his lungs in hopes you would be able to hear him regardless of wherever you were hiding in the house.

Wordlessly, you made your way from your bed to the front door, turning on the front light so he knew you were there.

“Hyunjin, what are you-?”

“I'm gonna kill that fucking ass-hole,” Hyunjin growled through grit teeth the moment you opened the door, cutting you off by placing his hands on either side of your face. He could feel his temper rising as he took in your smudged makeup and red, puffy eyes. Despite his rough tone he held your face so gently that you almost began to cry again. “I swear to you, I didn't know he was going to do this.”

“I know it wasn't your fault Jinnie…” you breathed, attempting to remain collected enough to not give into your heartbreak. It wasn't enough, as soon as you opened your mouth to reassure him another sob tore from you and you were once again lost. Hyunjin didn't bat an eye, wrapping himself around you and holding you so tightly it felt as though he was the only thing even remotely keeping you together.

“I knew it was too good to be true, but I still believed that he might like me. That, maybe, I had a chance. God, I feel so stupid, Hyunjin!” You clung to Hyunjins denim jacket as you wailed shamelessly into the collar, “and… and when I saw his stories, how this girl was glued to him… it's dumb and I know I deserve better, but I still couldn't help but wonder why couldn't that be me? Did he think I wasn't good enough, not hot enough? What am I missing that I'm so undesirable to him?”

“Y/N stop,” Hyunjins hands were once again at your face, drawing your gaze to his. “You're beautiful, you know you are. Just because this guy doesn't see it, that doesn't mean it's not true. Hell, you even just said that you know you deserve better.” he said gently, pressing his forehead to yours. “God I'm so fucking angry,” he muttered more to himself than anything, squeezing his eyes shut. How dare this prick of a “friend” hurt you like this, in the exact same way he did?

“I know… I know I deserve better, I'm not ugly, but it's so hard to feel like I'm pretty, that I'm desirable at all, when guys keep rejecting me.”

“All those guys are idiots.” Hyunjin sighed, “I wish I could show you how desirable you really are,” he said in a whisper, his brows furrowed and eyes squeezing tighter. It hurt him so much to hear you speak like that.

“I love you for wanting that, but… I don't see how you could,” you whimpered, placing your hands over his, your glossy eyes drifting over his pained features. Was it just the harsh shadows from the front light, or did he have a couple of bruises on his face?

“I can think of one way,” Hyunjin said, his voice coming out small, almost shy. This surprised you. You couldn't remember the last time he came off as shy.

“What do you mean, Jinnie?” You asked in an equally soft tone, your curiosity and fear of spooking him out of sharing his idea overtaking the uncertainty of the possible bruises on his face.

Hyunjins eyes open slowly, his gaze unreadable. You didn't know what it was, but something about the intensity of his stare made you flush, rendering you speechless. Eventually, the longer you looked, the better you could see it - the internal war he was having with himself. Whatever his thought was, he was unsure over whether or not to follow through. For Hyunjin, he was unsure if this would help or if it was even something you needed. He was worried that after what happened to him tonight, he was focusing too much over what he needed.

“Are you not going to tell me?” You finally asked, trying to goad him into fussing up, “did you change your mind?”

“No, I just… I don't want to upset you.”

“Sounds like you have something risky in mind.”

“That's putting it lightly,” he chuckled, ghosting his thumb over your cheek. “I don't think we'd be the same after, and that scares me, I don't want you to shut me out, Beautiful.”

“Just do it, Jinnie. I know that regardless of whatever you have in mind, you just want to help. I could never be upset at you for that.”

“Are you sure?” He rasped, snaking one of his arms around your waist. Your pulse thudded at his actions, but after a stiff swallow, you nodded anyway.

“I'm sure Hyunjin, I trust you.”

Hyunjins eyes became hooded as he scanned your face, his lower lip catching between his teeth as he tipped your chin up with the hand that wasn't increasing its grip on your waist. You stopped breathing as Hyunjin ran his thumb over your lower lip, taking in the softness of your skin before delving in for a bite.

You whimpered at the gentle sting as he tugged at your lower lip, eyes screwed shut and hands clutching at his tear stained denim jacket. Before you could even question what was happening, Hyunjins' other arm wrapped around you, pulling your body hard against his as he tilted his head to kiss you properly. Your head spun. All you could focus on was his soft, plush, lips, and warm breath.

A squeal sneaked out of you when Hyunjin licked your lower lip, allowing him to slip between your lips when you gasped in surprise. You put up no fight, allowing him to roam as he pleased. You were so lost in everything about him, his touch, his smell, his taste. It was as if you were caught in a current drifting you further out to sea. Was this why every girl in town wanted a chance just to spend a night with him? Or was he so good because he got around? He was just kissing you, and you could feel your excitement stirring. How did it feel to do more than just kiss him? Wanting to know you released your grip on his jacket, slipping your hands beneath the collar.

Hyunjin shuttered at your cool touch, a stark contrast to the hot skin of his neck. Goosebumps raised as he felt you slip his jacket off of him, and he released your waist to help you along, dropping the fabric by the front door and kicking off his shoes. He was so focused that he let out a small noise of surprise when you slipped your hands under the hem of his shirt, hands resting on his abdomen.

“Y/N,” he murmured against your lips, chuckling when you refused to stop kissing him. Running a hand into your hair, he held on gently as he pulled away, full on grinning when your lips tried to chase after him, “easy there, girl.”

“Why'd you stop?” You softly whined, somewhat out of breath, a pout on your sweet lips.

“I just don't want to keep this up right by the front door, I keep thinking your parents are going to catch us or something,” Hyunjin said light heartedly, his eyes still lingering on your lips. He already wanted to kiss you again.

“Then…” you began, feeling shy at what you were about to suggest, “my room?”

“Your room,” Hyunjin agreed, lifting you from the floor and carrying your giggly self to your bed. Tearing off his flannel and climbing on top of you, he finally took a moment to take in your outfit. His heart sank once he realized this outfit was new, and you looked absolutely stunning in it. How dare your date not come to see how much effort you put in for tonight. Hyunjins hands clenched at your sheets as he told himself that at least you wouldn't have dressed up for nothing. He wouldn't let your efforts tonight go to waste.

“Hyunjin, are you alright?” Hyunjins eyes met yours, and he leaned in to place a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“I'm just nervous, I didn’t think you'd take it this far.”

“I didn't either,” you admitted, suddenly unable to look at him, “but I just… I liked what we were doing, how you were making me feel.” Your cheeks burned, but Hyunjin was right. You deserved to feel beautiful, and you were grateful that it was Hyunjin who was making you feel this way. “Hyunjin… I- I want you to keep going… would you… would you be my first?”

Hyunjins’ breath caught in his throat, and in an instant, he no longer felt like the full of confidence school bad boy. Instead, he was just a boy, a boy with his heart hammering in his chest as he looked down at the girl he secretly loved with the widest eyes imaginable.

“Are- Are you sure?” He whispered, the tremor in his voice matching the one shaking his body.

“Yes,” you breathed, finding the courage to look at him again. “I'm sure.”

With a fervored nod of his head, Hyunjin sat up and hastily fumbled for his wallet in his back pocket, praying that he still had a condom tucked away. With relief, he found one. He couldn't stop shaking.

“I'll stop whenever you tell me to,” Hyunjin said with a mix of excitement and anxiety, placing the condom next to you on the bed, “you call all the shots. I won't do anything you're not comfortable with, okay?”

Unable to speak, you nodded, taking several deep, steadying breaths as Hyunjin returned above you, wasting no time to kiss you sweetly. You did your best to focus on the moment, on the slant of his lips, the smell of his cologne clinging to his undershirt, of his shaky hand that trailed under your shirt to run his hand over your breast which caused your breath to hitch.

“Y/N, are you wearing lingerie?” Hyunjin murmured. Your hands flew to your face to cover your now tomato red face before he could even finish asking his question. Once again, you were only able to nod. With a groan, Hyunjin, unceremoniously and without warning, pushed your shirt up as far as it would go before sitting back on his haunches and tearing your bottoms off of you. Fuck, to think that good-for-nothing almost saw you in this. “I can't tell you how glad I am to be the only one to see you in this,” he said admiringly, pressing kisses to your knees, then down your inner thighs.

Hyunjin paused for a moment, giving you a chance to stop him before he went any further, but when you remained hiding behind your hands he continued to pepper kisses between your thighs as he worked his way down. With a small smirk, Hyunjin traced the little bow that topped the front of your lace panties. You were a present just for him. He felt grateful, getting something just for him.

Wanting to show just how appreciative he was, Hyunjin spread your legs, slotting his head in between them and placing soft kisses to your covered heat. He relished in your shy, needy whimpers as he ran his fingers up and down your clothed slit, pressing more kisses over your clit as the dampness against your panties worsened.

“I'm going to eat you out first before we do this, baby, I want you relaxed and feeling good before I try sliding in,” he instructed as he pulled your panties down your legs with his teeth and slid his finger over your now exposed slit.

You were already a panting mess from this little bit of stimulation, your hands no longer hiding your face but bunched at your chest as you watched him toy with you. You had never seen this side of Hyunjin before and were getting more and more aroused as he focused on your pleasure. You couldn't take your eyes off him, especially as he rested one of your legs over his shoulder, collecting your wetness on his middle finger before easing it between your folds. He pumped the digit in and out a few times, checking if there was any discomfort before easing in another finger. Your eyes fluttered closed at the filling sensation, savoring the delicious drag of his fingers as they slowly pumped in and out of you. Hyunjin took great care in building you up, exploring which spots were your weakest and prodding at them mercilessly until you were shaking beneath him. Right when you thought the sensation couldn't get more intense, Hyunjins' tongue slid over your sensitive clit, causing your hips to buck. Hyunjin grunted but continued licking and swirling his tongue over the bundle of nerves as his fingers continued to expertly press at your gummy walls. Hyunjin was reading you so well and all you could do was grasp at his hair and cry out pathetic moans beneath him.

Before you could even say anything, your orgasm rapidly built before exploding, your creaminess coating Hyunjins’ tongue and fingers. Your body shuttered, and Hyunjin continued to rub you walls as he helped ease you down.

“That's it, baby, you did so good. Just stay relaxed, okay?” Hyunjin cooed, licking you from his lips and fingers and reaching for the condom, “are you ready?”

“I- I think so,” you stammered out, surprised at yourself for managing to speak. Your head felt so cluttered, unable to believe Hyunjin just made you cum. Hyunjin, the guy you've known since you were a kid and who you've been able to platonically share a bed with. You were almost starting to second guess whether or not you should really go through with this, maybe Hyunjin was right about things changing, maybe it would change too much and you'd lose the closeness you had.

You didn't have time to dwell on these hesitant thoughts, Hyunjin unbuttoning his jeans and beginning to slip them down caught your full attention and you could do nothing but watch with bated breath as his stunning cock sprang free. It was too late. You had passed the point of no return, and there was nothing left to do but indulge, to let yourself dive as deep as you could and let yourself drown.

Or maybe that's just how Hyunjin was seeing it. Tonight did not go as he planned, before he deigned to open social media - all the while hiding in a tube slide at a child's park - he had gotten hurt, he was on the run, in overlapping shades of pain, his only solace being that at least you were having a good night with one of his friends. When Hyunjin had seen that the guy had ditched you for a party and some other girl, he couldn't think of a worse end to his night than leaving you to ache alone. So he ran to you, risking himself further with the exposure, but he didn't matter at that moment. He would swallow everything down, just for a chance to lift your spirits, he could deal with his own pain later, he just needed to help you otherwise he didn't think he could last the night.

He truly wasn't thinking of himself when he kissed you, Hyunjin only wanted to do whatever he could to prove to you that you are worthy of being wanted. But when you pulled him close, when you wanted more, Hyunjin realized he needed the same thing - only in a slightly different way.

Tonight had been horrible for you and Hyunjin before he came to you. He was not going to let the sun rise without something good happening for the both of you not realizing that the moment he took your hand in his, both sets of clothes now discarded on your bedroom floor, lips and tongues melting together as his protected head teasing your entrance, that he was giving the both of you the thing you wanted from each other the most.

It hurt, of course, but Hyunjin was gentle. Easing himself in and out in sections, going inch by inch and refusing to push deeper until you were accustomed. He didn't want you to cry. He refused to make you bleed, and when he finally finally bottomed out, you thought you were going to faint from how shallow your breathing was.

“Breath, baby, breath,” he whispered, kissing you tenderly, “I won't move until you breathe.”

“Hyunjin…” you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck and drinking in his gentle attention. “It's okay, you can move, it doesn't hurt,” you reassured. With a few more kisses, Hyunjin rested his forehead for yours before he slowly rolled his hips into yours.

You squeezed your eyes shut, the sensation - while not entirely painful - felt foreign, and you struggled to acclimate quickly, but you refused to let him stop. You knew you just needed to ride this out, that it would get better, and it did. You could feel your body accepting him and soon wanting more.

“Jinnie… more, it's not enough, more,” you mewled, wrapping your legs around his waist in an attempt to draw him closer.

“Okay, Beautiful, I'll take care of you. Just lay back, Jinnie will make you feel good,” Hyunjin murmured, pressing kissing into your neck and picking up his pace, earning himself a few sweet moans.

It was only when all tension left your body that Hyunjin dared to truly let himself enjoy you. Adjusting so he was on his knees, he pulled your legs up, holding each behind your knees as he began to truly fuck himself into you. Hyunjin watched as your sweet, shy moans turned into heated, wanton screams as he plowed into your gummy spot. Never did he think he would see you make such a gorgeous face or hear your pussy make such filthy squelching sounds as his dick slipped in and out of you. For a moment, Hyunjin thought he was dreaming as he watched you drown in bliss below him. If he was, he never wanted to wake up. He wanted to stay right here, in this too-good-to-be-true moment where all the worries from hours ago purged themselves from his mind.

“Hyun… Jin… Jinnie…” you gasped out, feeling the pressure from your building orgasm start to grow.

“Does it feel good, Beautiful? Are you gonna cum?” He asked in ragged breaths.

“Yes… yes, I think I'm close. Oh, please don't stop,” you begged, closing your eyes and throwing your head back onto your pillow. Almost as soon as you finished uttering those words, your body clenched around him as you came for the second time, a creamy ring coating Hyunjins dick.

“Fuck, baby,” Hyunjin groaned, slamming his dick into you more rapidly as he chased his own orgasm.

Feeling his hips beginning to stutter, you forced your tired eyes to open just in time to watch Hyunjins’ beautiful face twist in pleasure as he came, melodic moans bouncing off your walls. You did your best to memorize that face as he came down from his high.

After a moment of catching his breath, Hyunjin eased himself out of you to remove the condom, your body giving a shudder at the lack of his body heat.

“Let's clean up, yeah?” Hyunjin suggested, helping you up from the bed and leading the two of you to the bathroom. The following intimate moments of clean-up felt oddly comfortable and right. Once your post-orgasm bliss had faded, you expected an air of awkwardness to be lingerie around you both, but there never was.

“Hey, can I wear your flanel?”

“What?” Hyunjin asked with a laugh.

“That's what always happens in the movies. The girl wears the guys clothes after sex. I kinda wanna try it.”

“Just for a bit? That's dumb,” he replied but handed you his flannel anyway as he grabbed the rest of his clothes to put back on.

You needed to change out of your lingerie set, so you opted to wear nothing but his flannel, a comfort pair of panties, and some knee-high socks. You wanted to wear his shirt for the bit, so you were going to commit. Besides, he had officially seen too much for you to be shy at this point.

“Was this food meant to be for tonight?” Hyunjins voice called from the kitchen. You didn't notice he had left your room since he didn't bother to shut the door.

“Yeah,” you replied as you joined him in the dimly lit kitchen, missing his double take and blushing at your choice in attire. “I was actually going to come eat it before you showed up. It's meant for two, want some, or have you eaten?”

“I haven't. Go rest, I'll heat this up.” With a smile, you nodded, leaning up to place a peck on his still tinted cheek.

“Thank you for coming tonight, Jinnie. I needed it.”

“Yeah, of course, Beautiful,” he said as you walked into the living room, “I needed it too…” he added, but you were too far to hear.

It didn't take long for the food to be reheated and soon the two of you were nestled on the couch together, sharing a blanket in the dark living room as one of the movies you had picked out for tonight played.

“In a way, I'm kind of glad the jackass never showed up, I got to have this date with you instead,” Hyunjins said rather sincerely. It made your heart flutter.

“I'm glad too. He set you up to come to my rescue and make my night better. Maybe even better than if he had actually shown up.”

“Do you really mean that?” Hyunjin asked, his heart melting as he set down his plate to pull you close and nuzzle you, “awwwww you're too sweet!”

“Alright, alright, that's enough!” You laughed, pushing his face from yours. You had meant the gesture to be light-hearted, but your nerves spiked the instant Hyunjins head shot back in recoil, giving a small hiss of pain. “Oh my god, Hyunjin, are you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean-”

“No, no, no, it's ok,” he reassured, his hand hovering over his eye as if he wanted to soothe the skin but feared touching it.

“Are you sure? Let me see,” you attempted to get closer, but Hyunjins long arm held you back.

“I'm fine, Y/N, let's just watch the movie.”

You blinked at him before frowning and attempted to lunge at him again.

“Hyunjin, what are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing!” He said a little too defensively. Not in the mood to play games, you stood from the couch and walked off. Hyunjin assumed this was you pouting but ultimately dropped the matter, how wrong he was.

Stomping to the light switch, you bathed the livingstone in bright light, noticing the completely unsubtle way Hyunjin dove for cover. You weren't letting this slide. Over to the couch, you didn't even attempt to pull away the pillow Hyunjin used to cover his face, instead climbing on top of him and began to tickle his sides. Instantly, his body began to jerk and wiggle, but he was adamant on not letting you see his face. However, he was struggling to handle your body on top of him and soon had no choice but to tip the both of you off the couch in an attempt to ease the ache.

This did not work in his favor. Easily catching yourself, you now stood over him, the small fall making him release his grip on the pillow just enough for you to yank it from his hands.

Your arms paused as you held the pillow mid-air in shock. Your eyes weren't playing tricks earlier. It wasn't just a trick of the light. Blooming across his cheek bone and at the corner of his lips were two bruises, and there was even a small cut near his brow that would easily be covered by his hair, were he not on his back.

“Hyunjin, what happened to you…?” You breathed, dropping the pillow. Slowly dropping to your knees, you sat on Hyunjins hips, keeping him pinned in place so he couldn't escape.

Hyunjin didn't answer. He couldn’t even meet your eyes as your fingers barely ghosted over the discolored skin. Without realizing it, you dropped your hand on his side, only to snap your hand away when he flinched in pain. You sat as still as a statue for a few moments before reaching down and lifting his shirt, showing more discoloration.

You felt horrible. How could you not notice? How could you not see? The instant the thought popped into your head, realization hit you.

“This is why you didn't want to be by the front door… with the light right on you. You didn't worry in my room cause the lights were off, and in the bathroom and kitchen too… There was only dim lighting. It was so I couldn't see.” The look of guilt on Hyunjins face was all you needed to confirm that you were right. He was hiding this from you, but why? What happened to your Hyunjin that he came to you so hurt?

“Please don't cry, beautiful. You've already cried so much tonight.”

“Then tell me what happened,” you said firmly.

Hyunjins lips pressed together, he didn't want to open up, he especially didn't want to ruin the special evening you two were just having together. But he knew you wouldn't let this slide, and if he was honest… someone about the way you were dressed brought him back to the surprising feeling of comfort he felt while being in bed with you.

“... okay,” he eventually relented, gingerly sitting up and bumping noses with you. “But kiss me first.”

“Huh?”

“Just… please.”

He sounded so tired and defeated. Wanting nothing more than to swallow up all his pain, you didn't hesitate again, wrapping your arms around his neck and bushing your lips over his.

Hyunjin kissed you back desperately, wrapping his arms around you and holding on to you. If he didn't, he felt he would fall apart, a stark contrast to the way he held you in your doorway. You didn't realize when his hand had slipped under his flanel until his nails raked over your back, raising goosebumps in their wake as his hands traveled between your bodies.

“Hyunjin,” you called, pulling from his lips. He didn't stop, his lips dropping to your neck the moment you pulled away. “Hyunjin,” you said again, attempting to sound more stern with little success. You were melting under his touch again.

“I just want to feel you against me,” he mumbled against your skin, unbuttoning the flannel and opening it just enough to expose you, but not take it off completely. He then pulled back, once again pulling off his tee before leaning back into you, his arms snaking around you under his shirt and his face buried in the crook of your neck.

You two stayed stationery in that position for a few moments, the only sound coming from your forgotten move. Not knowing what else to do for Hyunjin, at that moment, you slid your fingers into his hair and scratched gently at his skull. Only then did Hyunjin finally relax. He finally felt the same warmth, safety, and intimacy from earlier, making it easier for him to finally explain what happened.

You weren't the only one heartbroken that night. Hyunjin had gotten involved with an older woman. He was really having fun with her. He thought she actually cared about him. She made him feel like somebody. But right when he thought things were going great, that's when everything went wrong.

What was supposed to be a normal night together turned into him finding out she was married in the worst way possibly, with her husband catching them getting hot and heavy together and beating the shit out of Hyunjin for messing around with someone he shouldn't. The guy wouldn't even believe Hyunjin when he said he didn't know the woman was married.

Turns out this woman has a history of luring young, hot guys to her with tons of spoiling and praise, only to then have her way with them until her husband finds out and beats the shit out of the poor boy. Rinse and repeat, right up to Hyunjin. The latest in a line of victims.

Hyunjin managed to get away but never before had he felt so cheap and pathetic, this wasn't the first time a girl slept with him for her own gain but sometimes about this time just made him feel so… worthless. It brought tears to his eyes to admit this, and he clung to you tightly as he cried.

You've never known Hyunjin could cry so hard, and it broke your heart to learn that this happened to him, but you were also proud of him. He said he never intended on telling anyone and that he was just going to hold on to this until the day he died, but he didn't. He told you, he let it out, and even though it broke your heart to see him like this, you wanted him to always talk to someone, even if it wasn't you. You also promised that you would do whatever it took to make him comfortable enough to open up, that while you couldn't fix his problems, you could be his safe place.

“It's funny, but… this is what we're doing right now. It's what I need. This is my safe place,” Hyunjin admitted, his lips tickling your collar bone.

“The skin contact??” By now you and Hyunjin had made your way back to your bed, settling in under the covers, each of you wearing next to nothing so Hyunjin could feel as much of you against him as possible.

“Kinda, just… the intimacy of it all. If I could, I'd be buried inside you again. I want to be as close to you as I can. It makes me feel like I'm not worthless. It makes me feel wanted.”

“Having your dick in someone makes you feel wanted?” You teasingly asked with a giggle.

“No, baby,” Hyunjin replied with a laugh, lifting his head from your chest to fix you with a soft stare. “I only feel like this because it's you. The only girl I've shared years of my life and my darkest secrets. The only girl who trusts me so much she'd ask me to be her first and who loves me enough to sit in and listen to my problems the same night.” You were too stunned to speak, but you were sure Hyunjin could see just how red your face was. “You're my closest and most trusted friend, Y/N. I think sex and stuff like that will only feel this special, this safe and warm, with you.” It was also because Hyunjin was secretly in love with you too, but he decided to keep that part to himself, he wanted to enjoy this moment, this look on your face, for just a little while longer.

“I… I think so too, Hyun. It won't ever mean the same with anyone else,” you said, decidingly also refusing to admit the feelings you've been harboring for Hyunjin.

A sweet smile spread across Hyunjin's face, his eyes curving into crescents. You knew you were essentially digging your own grave, dooming yourself to what you assumed was going to be a mainly physical relationship, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. Not when Hyunjin looked so irresistible and said such endearments, snuggling against you and showering your skin with kisses, leading you two to get lost in each other again until you fell asleep in each other's arms, only for him to cling to you the all throughout the next morning. If you could just have more moments like this with him, it would all be worth it. Anything to be the safe space for the boy you were so desperately in love with.

○●☆♡☆●○

“So that's it, that's how you and Hyunjin became, well, you and Hyunjin. You were in love with him, and you were his security blanket.”

“I mean, kinda,” you replied, polishing off the last of your water bottle and opening another. “Sex with me, at least at the beginning, meant so much to him because I was someone who really cared about him. He never had to doubt if I was doing things with him for clout or for some sick kick. That gave him a sense of safety, and it gave him space to open up. And I was only too eager to please cause not only was I completely in love with him, but he did mean so much to me beyond that. He was a friend who put everything aside, even his own issues, to look out for me.”

“Which is why you feel bad you can't be as close to him as you used to be and why when he keeps things to himself, it bothers you so much.”

“Exactly.” Heaving a deep sigh, you rummaged through your pile of trash to hopefully find an unopened piece of candy. Meanwhile, Felix sat silently next to you, feeling sympathetic to your situation.

“I take it you and Changbin haven't talked about any of this?” Felix asked tentatively, making you pause your search.

“... No, I'm not even sure if it's worth bringing up,” you admitted, laying back against Felix's mattress and watching his ceiling fan turn. “It was such a big part of my life, but it's over now. I made my choice, and I chose myself. I'm finally with someone who's as much mine as I am theirs. I don't want to throw a wrench into things by telling him about something that ended before we even got together.”

“So you have no regrets then?”

“None. I'm happy with Changbin, even if I don't get to see him as often as I like.”

Just then, the sound of Chan's door opening and closing caught yours and Felix's attention. It was the first time you've heard any noise coming from him since you even got to the boys' shared apartment, and upon checking the time, you noticed that it was already 11 in the evening.

“Hey, how often do you get to see Bin?” Felix asked.

“Barely… I see him just slightly more often than I see my own roommate.”

“I hardly see my roommate anymore either,” Felix said, a deep sense of dread building in him. “How… How long has it been since you and Bin started dating?” You swallowed hard at his question, choosing instead to focus on the sound of Chan rustling through the kitchen before returning to his room. You knew where Felix was going with this.

“It's only been a little over a month.”

A tense silence settled between the two of you, neither one of you daring to say it. But you knew what he was thinking. You could feel the worry radiating off of Felix's slender body, seeping into your bones. You had essentially severed your deepest and longest lasting relationship to be with Changbin, and now, due to one stroke of chance you barely get to see him and can't even turn to the person from your second longest lasting relationship for aid.

What's going to happen to your freshly established relationship if this demand for 3racha keeps going? How will you survive not being able to see, not only your boyfriend, but one of your best friends who championed your budding connection to said boyfriend? Especially when the only deep connection you had left was someone you were desperately attempting to put space around?

These worries troubled you. Long after Felix's attempts to sedate them, long after you bid him good night and drove yourself home, and long after, you readied yourself inside your all too silent apartment and clambered into bed. You had been so happy for 3racha, so determined to support them, but now all that lingered over head was the fact that in one fleeting moment you realized you no longer had the steady foundation built by the three most precious people in your life.

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Well... this chapter certainly ended up taking on a life of its own, and as I mentioned in this post, it ended up coming to mean a bit more to me than the other chapters.

Anyway, I had intended on this to be a bonus chapter, but I thought it flowed better as part of the main story. I'm getting better at placing the back stories/flashbacks.

If you go back to the first couple of chapters, you can see I was formatting the story differently. I was struggling with the build-up of the story and then found my stride in later chapters. If I allow myself to be a bit delulu for a moment, if i ever get my E. L. James or Anna Todd moment, I'd definitely go back and re-write those beginning segments.

Taglist: @groovygroovyhyunjin @hhwangsmoon @luvyblossom @doggezz@kayleefriedchicken @hyunjinhoexxx

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