#no thank you you are extremely unpleasant | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ugh-yoongi · 2 months ago

Note

hi. i would like to request seungcheol (obviously). all i request is enemies-to-lovers. you may do with this what you wish. i leave it up to you to decide exactly how you will ruin my life 😌

tysm for the request my beloved !! he is so enemies to lovers coded i had TEWWW many thoughts (and started three separate wips oops), but here we are. i hope u enjoy this !! can't wait to get the collab fics out of the way so i can torture u further with baseball dk. i picked dodgers hat!cheol just for u. ♡

— we need to talk

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader summary: sometimes the only way to win the game is to not play, but sometimes it's not a game at all—sometimes it's four years of emotional build-up with nowhere left to hide. genre: enemies (kinda) w benefits to lovers; frat/university au; smut, angst?, fluff rating: explicit. minors do not interact with this or any of my work. warnings: frat boys. gendered language and insults. swearing. mentions of drugs & drug use (vernon is literally a drug dealer 🤷🏻‍♀️) as well as alcohol. possessive, jealous seungcheol who is extremely down bad and kind of an asshole and would be toxic af irl but is fine in fanfiction probably. this is maybe more "people who used to fuck and started disliking each other along the way bc they can't figure out their feelings" to lovers than enemies. there are very slight, very meaningless mingyu x reader undertones here. jeonghan is a bastard. feelings you think are unrequited but alas! this got softer than i intended oops. smut warnings: seungcheol truly is a man driven to the brink of madness bc of pussy idk what to say. kissing. hair pulling. mentions of masturbation. the dynamics shift in this one a lot, but to be overly cautious i will say dom!cheol and slightly dom!reader undertones that are not implicitly stated or defined. seungcheol uses the term "whore" once, sorry. oral sex (f. receiving). pussy slapping. unprotected sex. if i missed any pls lmk. wordcount: 8k. no i do not know what a drabble is, leave me alone. author's note: title from the song of the same name by waterparks but this was actually brought to you by "i'll never stop" by nsync bc it's their best song and fit the vibes perfectly. anyway, i still do not love writing smut but i am insane over this man so whatever, we persevere. everyone go shower mj in lots of love bc she's the best and deserves it. also everyone say thank u @the-boy-meets-evil for looking over this for me. i did not look at this again after she beta'd it so any mistakes are of my own stupidity. <3

Seungcheol is incensed.

What in the fuck are you thinking, showing up here? Ignoring him, walking by him with nothing more than a brush to the elbow and that sultry, electric gaze? A pair of painted-on jeans and a sheer top?

Who the fuck had invited you?

He looks around the room, gaze heavy under his furrowed brow. Bass thumps in his ears, the music so loud he can feel it in his chest. Still, his feet stay planted on the floor, already sticky with spilled alcohol and god knows what else. He needs to find Vernon—just needs something to get through this very unexpected (and very unpleasant) surprise, take the edge off.

But he can’t see through the sea of people. They’re everywhere, occupying every inch of available space in the house, but he just needs a glimpse of that mop of cornflower blue hair. If he could just—

Instead, he sees a streak of white-blond in his peripheral vision. “Soonyoung!” he calls, grabbing the man by the arm. “Hey, have you seen Vernon?”

Soonyoung stares up at him with glassy, bloodshot eyes, his breath already stinking of alcohol as he shrugs and says, “Dunno, hyung. Think he’s upstairs.”

Fingers still wrapped around his bicep, Seungcheol heaves a sigh. “Go find Jeonghan. He’s on babysitting duty and you’re already fucked.”

“I’m fine,” Soonyoung argues, slurred words giving him away immediately.

Seungcheol scoffs. “Bro, you can barely stand and you reek of shitty vodka. Go drink some water.”

As he sends Soonyoung away, he can feel eyes boring into him, tension wound tight in the center of his back that refuses to dissipate no matter how many times he rolls his shoulders. He turns slowly, already knowing exactly what he’ll find, but knowing does little to stop the hitch of breath as he takes you in.

And he hates it. Fuck, he hates the effect you have on him more than anything.

Hates that he’s still pining after you. Hates that all you have to do is look at him and he’s putty in your hands. Hates that you’re the first person he looks for in a room, the last person on his mind before he falls asleep. Hates you, hates that all of this is unreciprocated, because if Choi Seungcheol is anything, it’s proud. He’s rich, he’s good-looking, he’s pre-law, and the president of this fraternity, for fuck’s sake—he should not be hung up on a girl.

But he’d been doomed from the beginning. Ever since you’d been assigned to him as a challenge to overcome, an impossible task to conquer, he’d been helplessly, pathetically smitten with you.

And fuck if you didn’t know it, too.

So, it’s a game now. A lifetime’s worth of pining for Seungcheol all because his frat was misogynistic and refused to keep up with the times. They’d nodded in your direction and laughed at the confusion on his face, the knot between his brows. Seungcheol couldn’t figure out why his initiation was to fuck a girl, one his brothers wouldn’t even address by name, but when he’d approached you at a party and you’d immediately told him to go fuck himself, he’d figured it out pretty quick.

Call it determination, call it a stubborn streak that refused to quit, but the two of you soon came to a reluctant agreement: you would let Seungcheol lie to his frat, figuring he was attractive enough that people thinking you’d slept together wouldn’t be complete social suicide, and he’d owe you a favor you’d keep in your back pocket for as long as it took to cash in.

Which hadn’t taken long. The stress of finals that first year had gotten to all of you, and it wasn’t long before you were at his door looking for his drug-dealing roommate and a quick fuck.

That was the second time Seungcheol had been doomed to hopeless pining, because once he had you, he knew it’d be impossible to let you go.

Short of outright saying the words, he’d all but told you as much during some alcohol-induced brain shortage junior year. And, in turn, you’d all but laughed in his face.

Right.

Of course.

That was to be expected.

So, you’d continued your… well, whatever this is: quick fucks when both of you were bored or lonely or horny, usually under the influence of something illegal; a mutually tense but beneficial relationship for each of you, because you had been Seungcheol’s initiation and the initiation itself awarded him connections and opportunities. You got a back-up plan. A safe body and warm bed to retreat to when the need arose—one who clearly wanted it to be something more, but was, all things considered, fine with the current arrangement. Didn’t pressure you.

But, as was also to be expected, it was never going to be that simple when feelings got involved. When he started feeling slighted. When he wanted you so bad he ached with it sometimes and it was beneath you to care. Which is why he really, really needs to find Vernon. If he’s going to endure an entire party with you, he’s not going to do it sober.

He takes the steps two at a time, feet stumbling onto the landing as soon as he reaches it. Vernon’s door is the third on the left, and he can hear a separate, distinct bass line from the one booming downstairs that hums louder the closer he gets.

And Vernon knows. Of course he does, because he’s yanking his door open before Seungcheol has even raised a hand to knock, the stench of weed seeping out into the hallway, and all he needs is a quick look at Seungcheol before he pulls the door open wider and says, “Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States of America,” as if he’s speaking into a microphone. When Seungcheol doesn’t react, he awkwardly tacks on, “Hi, hyung. I’m assuming she’s here.”

Seungcheol nods, dumbly, and stands as awkwardly in the center of the room as someone who’s about to ask their roommate for drugs tends to be. “Yeah.” Shoves his hands in the pockets of his overpriced jeans so Vernon can’t see the sheen of sweat.

“You looking for somethin’ specific?” he asks, rifling through the top drawer of a tall dresser. “Like, is this an I’m about to fuck her the rest of the night visit or an I need something to help me forget she doesn’t actually like me visit?”

The words come like a reflex. “Fuck you,” he seethes. Vernon’s not wrong, per se, but he didn’t have to go and just… say it like that.

Vernon just shrugs, one side of his worn-out collar slipping down his shoulder as he does so, and Seungcheol can’t tell if he’s actually dressed for the party or not. “Gonna guess it’s the second one, then.”

Seungcheol scoffs. “Well, it’s not,” he insists, knowing damn well he should let it go, that he’s just digging himself a bigger hole, but the truth sits in the pit of his stomach like lead.

And, really, he knows he just needs to accept it. That little strand of hope hasn’t brought him anything but more pain—allowed him to delude himself into thinking it could be something more, something tangible—and it’s time to let it go.

You don’t want more.

You don’t want the label and the relationship.

You don’t want him.

He knows this, but it still tastes sour in his mouth. Still tastes like the chill of autumn when you’d first showed up at his door all that time ago. Tastes like all the blunts you’ve shared and the liquor from all the parties you’d snuck away in the middle of. Tastes like the sharp notes of your perfume, the ones that’d coat his tongue when he’d kiss down your neck—the same notes that stain his bedsheets.

Mostly, it’s the pitying look Vernon’s giving him that hurts the most. He’s above pity. Doesn’t need it, especially not from Vernon Chwe, but it hurts all the same to be on the receiving end of it.

“Give me whatever you’ve got.”

Vernon’s face quickly morphs into surprised concern. “Uh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I mean, I’ve got some pretty heavy shit here.”

Heat flares in his belly. The pity was bad enough—now he wants to be patronizing? “Then give me whatever the fuck you think I need,” he snaps. “I don’t care. I don’t have time for this shit.”

“Well, you definitely need to chill,” Vernon mumbles. “You want some dabs?”

“No. Something…” The word feels thick in his mouth. Stronger implies that Seungcheol does heavy drugs, and that’s not true. “Else,” he finally finishes.

Vernon sighs as he continues rifling through the drawer. “Your dad would fucking kill me if I gave you my real heavy shit, so…” He pauses, eyebrows raising in triumph as he finds what he was looking for: a small baggie filled halfway with some nondescript powder. “You want a bump?”

Maybe he should be ashamed at how quickly he agrees, at the urgency and greed with which he grabs the baggie from Vernon’s fingers, but he just needs something. Needs the distraction, the brain fog. He shoves it in his back pocket next to his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

Vernon wrinkles his nose. “Nah. Consider that one a freebie. No offense, but you’re a real piece of shit when you’re like this.”

The implication only pisses him off more. Seungcheol is loaded—he can afford to pay his drug dealer, thank you very much—but he’s not like anything. “I’m sorry?”

True to his nature, Vernon barely shrugs. “I’ll put it on your tab, hyung,” he says in a way that implies he’s not at all going to do that and is only saying so to get the fraternity president off his back.

Jeonghan (23:12) Better come get your girl. Kim Mingyu’s dick looks like it’s halfway up her ass by now. Jeonghan (23:12) Uh oh! I think I just saw a testicle

Seungcheol stares down at his phone, hands trembling in anger. Of course it’s Mingyu. That pathetic loser has been taking up residence on the subs bench ever since you’d made out with him months ago in an admittedly successful attempt at payback. Seungcheol had hooked up with some downgrade at a party one time and you’d gone and made out with his friend. It was hardly a fair trade.

Seungcheol (23:14) Good for Mingyu, he can deal with her then Seungcheol (23:14) I’m busy Jeonghan (23:14) Doing what? Jerking off in the upstairs bathroom again? Jeonghan (23:15) Do you know what size condom he wears btw? Looks like I might need to fetch him one if you don’t want to take care of another man’s baby Jeonghan (23:16) Although, to be fair, you might want to sit this one out. He has way better bone structure than you. Might be a blessing in disguise Seungcheol (23:16) Fuck you Jeonghan (23:16) Better be nice to me, Choi Seungcheolie~ that might be the only fuck you get tonight

Seungcheol needs better friends. He needs a lot of things, really, but number one on his to-do list is to never let Jeonghan be on babysitting duty ever again. Somehow he’d forgotten how obnoxious Yoon Jeonghan is when he isn’t stoned and half-asleep on a couch somewhere.

For now, he just stomps down the hallway; locks himself in his room and doesn’t bother to turn on the light. He’s not going to be here long. Just enough time to do this line, change his t-shirt, and come up with a game plan, because he’s not going to let Mingyu even entertain the thought of being able to have you but he also can’t appear desperate. Not just to you, but to everyone else. Choi Seungcheol is not clingy, especially not over a girl.

Especially especially over a girl who doesn’t even want him like that.

But the longer he sits in the dark, the more trouble he has finding his resolve. Can’t bring himself to dig that baggie out of his pocket. Can’t drag his t-shirt over his head. Can’t bring himself to think about anything other than Mingyu’s hands all over you, and fuck, does that image drive him insane.

Does he touch you like Seungcheol does?

Does he coax those same jagged whimpers from your mouth like Seungcheol does?

Does his semi-hard cock feel as good pressed against you?

God, he’s so fucked. Utterly and completely fucked. And he wonders if this would be as bad if he’d just kept his mouth shut, took that secret to his grave instead of fooling himself into thinking it could be more. If it wouldn’t have devolved into… this. You’d always told him not to get attached, that sex was just sex and there was no need to ruin a good thing. But Seungcheol is a selfish man, always has been, and what if? is a dangerous question.

Jeonghan (23:36) Wow, you’re a fucking pussy. Stop hiding in your room like a little bitch. Seungcheol (23:36) Fuck off

He can’t go down there. Not because he’s a coward, but because he’s barely tethered to his sanity as it is. Something about you brings him out of his mind, makes him toss whatever good judgment he has left to the wind. Seungcheol is far too impulsive when it comes to you, reckless in ways that have all twenty years of his social training weeping in a corner; have alarm bells ringing in his brain. So, no, he can’t go downstairs right now because he knows he’ll do something stupid. Stick not only his foot but his entire lower body in it. He should’ve listened, yet here he is, dick pulled halfway out of his jeans because the thought of you alone gets him hard but his pride won’t let him jerk off to the image of anyone touching you that’s not him.

Forget whatever Jeonghan had called him. He’s a fucking fool. A moonstruck, delusional fool who’d tricked himself into thinking he could swim when he can barely tread water.

You (23:41) Something wrong?

Oh, here we fucking go, he thinks. Because this is Seungcheol’s game—one he’d perfected years ago, the one where he’s coy and chilly, never too eager, never committed. Just a little bit of a tease. Barely enough to keep them on the hook, a little needy; still enough to keep them coming back. But you’d taken one look at him all those years ago and had him pegged immediately. Figured out his game and learned the rules, used them against him. Now you watch him flounder with a smile on your face.

Seungcheol (23:42) Never knew you were so needy baby. First you show up uninvited and now youre missing me?

But just because there’s now a player two doesn’t mean he’s doomed to lose. He knows how you look when you’re on your knees for him. Knows how you sound when you’re begging to cum and stuttering out his name like you’re singing hymns. Knows how you look with your eyes rolled back after he’s fucked you dumb. Kim Mingyu doesn’t know shit.

Seungcheol knows he’s the only one fortunate enough to experience you like this.

And god does it kill him.

You (23:44) Don’t act stupid

A pleased exhale of laughter, an equally-smug smirk. Yeah, this is still Seungcheol’s game, the crown still sitting atop his head. You can let Mingyu grind his dick against you all you want, but Seungcheol is still the one you’re seeking out, pouting at the fact he hasn’t come to find you yet.

You (23:44) Mingyu invited me

Oh, you’re good—know just which buttons to press and how much pressure to use. Whatever smug expression Seungcheol had been wearing slides off his face immediately, tongue pressing into his cheek.

Seungcheol (23:46) And yet youre looking for me? You (23:47) Don’t have to look for you to know you’re upstairs sulking in your room because Jeonghan tattled on me like a fucking five year old Seungcheol (23:49) Maybe you should come up here then Seungcheol (23:49) Away from prying eyes

You don’t reply immediately. It’s just long enough for Seungcheol’s brain to conjure up something indecent—the way you’ll straddle him, the way his cock will feel pressed against the apex of your thighs; the goosebumps that’ll raise on his arms when you work your tongue along his neck, that spot near his collarbone you know he likes. His cock throbs against the confines of his jeans when he thinks about the devastated look on Mingyu’s face when you make up some excuse to get away from him, to traipse up the stairs and fall into Seungcheol’s bed, when he realizes he’s not going to have you.

You (23:56) It’d be pretty rude to leave my date, don’t you think? You (23:57) If you want me so bad, come down here and get me yourself

Seungcheol doesn’t play games; doesn’t compete because he has no competition. He’s always been given whatever he wants on a silver platter, no questions asked, so he’s wholly unprepared for this turn of events. What he knows he should do (respond to your text and tell you to fuck off, that you know where he is should you stop being a brat and change your mind) is not what he does (tucks his dick back in his jeans, finally throws on a clean t-shirt, and takes his time descending the stairs so he doesn’t look too eager), because logical thought gets tossed out the window entirely wherever you’re concerned.

“Ah, if it isn’t our resident pissbaby making his grand re-entrance.”

Seungcheol clenches his jaw for the nth time and glares. “Fuck off, Jeonghan.”

The man in question laughs—the annoying raspy one that grates on Seungcheol’s nerves—and hands over a cup of something brown and pungent. “Well, judging from your attitude, and the fact you’re barely hiding that boner you’ve got, you clearly didn’t spend your time away jerking off. What finally got you down here, the promise of cheap whiskey I nicked off some freshman or the fact that your girlfriend’s about two seconds from getting a public indecency charge courtesy of Kim Mingyu?”

Well. Jeonghan may be an asshole but he’s not wrong. Even through the crowd of people and the haze of whatever’s in his cup and a contact high, Seungcheol spots you immediately. Your back is pressed against Mingyu’s chest, his fingers gripping tight at your waist as you roll your hips in time with his. Whatever manufactured filth he’s whispering to you draws a smile, causes you to reach up and tug sharply at his hair. Fuck, Seungcheol can almost hear Mingyu’s moan from across the room, and his blood quickly heats to a rapid boil.

Another chuckle from the demon beside him. “Stop fucking laughing,” Seungcheol snaps, still unable to take his eyes off of you. “Fuck this. I’m going back upstairs. Make sure everyone’s out of here by three. I’m not paying for another noise citation.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “I’m absolutely not going to do that.” He shoves a bottle of something in Seungcheol’s hand. “Take this and think of me when you’re crying yourself to sleep because Mingyu stole guaranteed pussy right out of your hands.”

“Why do you do this?” Seungcheol asks, shoving at Jeonghan’s shoulder roughly. “You never know when to fucking quit.”

Another streak of white-blond. “Hey, no fighting!” Soonyoung slurs, trying his best to push Seungcheol to the other side of the kitchen with his useless, limp arms.

This attracts the attention of Joshua, who struts into the room looking straight out of Fashion Week, much like he always does. He hasn’t even broken a sweat. “Aw, are Mom and Dad fighting again?” he asks, his lips tugged into a smirk. He ignores Seungcheol’s scowl as he fixes himself a drink. “You know Mingyu only does it to get a reaction out of you,” Joshua adds, quieter this time, as if he’s telling Seungcheol a secret only meant for the two of them to share.

“What’s her excuse, then?” Seungcheol fires back, because even if he doesn’t like it, Joshua’s right. This is exactly the kind of behavior he’d expect from resident campus whore Kim Mingyu, but he never expected you to go along with it.

Joshua cocks an eyebrow. “She doesn’t need an excuse, Cheol. She’s not your girl.”

Even though it’s a truth he already knows, it somehow hurts worse being spoken in plaintext, a hushed conversation in a crowded kitchen. Being let down gently. Seungcheol knows he needs to make a decision. He needs to let you go and start moving on with his life; can’t be having these quasi-meltdowns during frat parties anymore. Can’t be possessive and spiteful. You don’t want him. Everyone knows you don’t want him, so that’s all there is to it. Maybe you’ll want Mingyu and he can finally wash his hands of this forever, scrape the jealousy off his tongue.

He steels himself. Rolls his shoulders back, cracks his neck. Navigates the crowd in the living room until he reaches you and your so-called date. Grabs you by the elbow—gentle enough that it doesn’t hurt but firm enough to send a message—and says the two of you need to talk. Upstairs. Now. Mingyu just smiles like he knew this was coming and presses a pointless, wasted kiss just below your ear. Seungcheol tells him to fuck off, too, and Mingyu grins wider, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

As he guides you to his room, he doesn’t think about the way your hand fits in his. Doesn’t think about how this is going to be the last time he has you. Doesn’t think about who’ll have you after. Doesn’t bother to wonder if you’ve finally changed your mind like he had all those other times he’d walked this same familiar path with you in tow. Because it’s the last time. Whatever happens once it’s over is out of his control.

Perhaps that’s what it’d always been about. Seungcheol has always been spoiled and selfish and so terribly, terribly desperate to prove he’s more than his family name and family money. So, yeah, he’d wanted the control; wanted what was never his for the taking. You’d always been the opposite—his perfect little counterpart. Always so pliant and careless and free: everything Seungcheol tried so hard to be but couldn’t, and that’s where the switch flipped.

Someone like you isn’t meant to be controlled.

What he used to want so badly now tastes rancid in his mouth.

The door locks behind you. Seungcheol doesn’t meet your eye as he says, “You got what you wanted. Are you done being a fucking brat?” It’s not a tone he usually takes. Usually he’s dirty, a little possessive, willing to let you set the pace. He doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches. “I asked you a question.”

“Seungcheol—”

He clicks his tongue, stalks closer until you’re nearly in his grasp. Your eyes close instinctively as if you’re expecting his mouth on yours. Instead, he threads his long fingers in your hair and pulls. “What’s so hard about answering a simple yes or no question? Did you really want Mingyu’s dick so bad you’ve gone dumb all of a sudden?”

You gasp. “No.”

“No what?” Seungcheol chides. “No, you’re not done being a brat? Or no, you weren’t just downstairs acting desperate and pathetic for mediocre cock?” He runs his thumb across the seam of your lips, follows their movements as you speak.

“I wasn’t—”

A low, mocking chuckle. “You were, baby.” Sounds condescending; speaks to you like you’re a stupid child. He’s so close to you now. Can smell the tang of your skin, the sticky notes of your perfume. Feels your breath fan against his own sweat-slick skin. Still avoids your gaze, because as domineering as he appears, he knows he can unravel just as quickly. “Take your clothes off. This is the last time I’m gonna fuck you and I’m not going to ask twice.”

Now you truly look caught off-guard. “What?” Still he ignores you, expensive silver rings clinking into a dish on his dresser one by one, expensive watch following. “What do you mean the last time?”

Deft fingers play at the buttons on his shirt. Not silk, but just as expensive. “Shit. You’re really testing my patience, you know.” You’re still standing at the edge of his bed, staring dumbly as if he’s just going to start spilling all his secrets, give you some kind of explanation. “I believe I told you to strip.”

Unlike Seungcheol, your fingers tremble as they work at buttons and zippers and hemlines, push down denim and remove heels. It’s clear you’re trying to work out what he’s playing at—if this is some punishment for fucking around with Mingyu or if he really means it—but you’re not going to risk asking. Things between the two of you are already tense as it is. Seungcheol has never been wound this tight, never been so ready to snap.

“That’s it,” he praises once you’re left in nothing but a skimpy underwear set you know he likes. “Look at you. Fucking gorgeous. I bet that’s why you think you can get away with embarrassing me, huh?” He grabs your chin, forces you to meet his gaze for the first time since he’d dragged you up here. “Get on your knees. I’m getting tired of repeating myself.”

It’s not an unfamiliar sight—as it is, you usually leave Seungcheol’s room with bruised knees on a good night—but it settles differently in his gut this time. Because he’d dared a glance at you once and knows he can’t do it again, so he watches the top of your head as you fumble with his belt buckle and looks away whenever he thinks you might risk a glance upwards. Finds some point on the wall to focus on. Hisses through his teeth when you pull his cock from his briefs, your hands cold against his flushed skin.

All he wants to do is kiss you. Draw this out. Give you a memorable last time, maybe mark you up a little. He really wants to savor the feeling of your tongue on his cock, but all he can focus on is the fact that he’ll never be enveloped in that wet heat again. He’s never going to feel your mouth working him over, feel you humming around his length because he knows you love the weight of it, you love wrenching away that little bit of control, turning him into a mess.

But he’s not going to dwell. He’s going to thumb at the hinge of your jaw, force it open just wide enough for his cock to fit inside. Then he’s going to fist your hair into a makeshift ponytail, grip it tight, use it to guide your mouth until there’s only an inch of space between you. He’s going to stare down at you, silently revel in how fucked out you look already even though he hasn’t touched you. He’s going to watch the way your fingers dig into your thighs because they can’t touch him. Then he’s going to say—

“Beg me. Beg me to let you suck my cock.”

There’s a flicker of hesitation. Seungcheol doesn’t talk to you like this. This is not the kind of dynamic the two of you have, and Seungcheol finds himself wondering if things would be different if it was. If he’d never started going so easy on you. Would you want him then? Or would you have left a long time ago?

He’s half-expecting you to do that now. You look ready to bolt, to pull your clothes back on and tell him to go fuck himself on the way out. Probably go straight back to Mingyu, let him fuck you hard but routine, the way Seungcheol usually does, the way he knows you like. He expects you to leave, and this is the last time, anyway, so he figures he has nothing left to lose.

“I’m going soft,” he snaps, the admonishment harsh on his tongue. When you look up at him, his jaw is clenched, eyes narrow. “You have one fucking job and you can’t even do that properly? Who’s going to want a dumb little whore that can’t follow simple instructions?”

He watches your eyes squeeze shut involuntarily. Wonders if he’s gone too far before deciding he doesn’t care if he has. It’s the last time, anyway, so it’s not like it matters. Watches the indents in your thighs grow deeper. Watches you inhale and try to steady your breathing.

Watches your eyes snap open, any trace of hesitation long gone. “Did you make that other girl beg for you?”

Seungcheol snorts, amusement showing all over his face. “Is that what this is about? You’re still mad I hooked up with some other girl so you act like this?” He clicks his tongue at you, fists his cock, slicking it up. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” you answer simply, “I’m just trying to figure out why you think you can speak to me however the fuck you want.”

Seungcheol’s hand stutters along his length before it stills, your words sharp and immediate against his skin. He should’ve known. Shouldn’t have thought something like this would work on you, that you’d like it, and he’s halfway to soft and throwing his hands up and tucking his dick back into his briefs when you say, “Answer the question.”

“What?”

You tsk. Move your hands from your thighs to his, nails pressing just deep enough to leave crescent moons behind that match your own. Something for someone else to see. “Did you make her beg for you?”

Seungcheol’s brain power decreases the higher your palms go, when your thumbs press into the dimples of his hips. Can barely choke out a hissed yes, yeah, fu-fuck when your hand covers his, fingers wrapping tightly around his own as you guide it back and forth, up and down the length of his cock. “What did you make her beg for, Cheol?”

“To—to to-touch me.”

You hum. Tighten your grip on Seungcheol’s hand and laugh as his hips roll involuntarily, seeking the friction. “Touch you how? Like this?”

“Yeah—fuck, yes, like this.”

“Did she? Did she listen to you like a good girl?” Your hand leaves Seungcheol’s only to collect the precum at his tip. “Don’t get all shy now, Cheolie.” You suck your thumb into your mouth and he whines. “Was she a good girl for you?”

You sit back on your haunches. Watch him jerk himself off. “Yeah,” he finally says, word cracking in the middle. “Boring, though. Not like—not like you.”

“No one is like me,” you admonish. “I could’ve told you that for free, before you went off and fucked someone else.”

“Not an idiot,” Seungcheol replies, the pace of his hand quickening. He’s playing a dangerous game; approaching the cliff edge at a dangerous pace. “No-nothing comes for free with you.”

All you do is smile, lopsided and smug. “Mm, that’s true. Guess your little dom moment earlier can just be chalked up to momentary stupidity, hm?” Seungcheol wants to nod, wants apologies to tumble from his lips until you shut him up, but his palm is so slick against his dick, fist tight enough to white out his vision. “Did you make her beg to suck your cock?”

Truth be told, Seungcheol can’t remember much of anything right now. He’s perilously close to coming, right at that precipice, and each filthy word that slips from your mouth just pushes him further to the edge. He remembers Chan inviting him to a party. He remembers a few drinks, a few hits from a blunt, compliments of Vernon; he remembers a girl making eyes at him from across the room—eyes that had looked a lot like yours in the haze of his crossfade. He remembers a locked bathroom and the sound of his voice as he told that girl how to touch him so it felt like you. He remembers her doing whatever he told her to, remembers how eager and submissive she was, how she didn’t mouth off to him the way you always do—

Remembers how unsatisfying it’d been when he came.

You’ve ruined him.

Not a revelation. Not even close to one. Seungcheol has known this for a long time, but that doesn’t mean annoyance doesn’t flare in his belly at the reminder. You don’t want him. Being so hung up on you isn’t doing him any favors, just means he’ll have a longer drop when this is all over. God, what the fuck is he doing?

He wants you so badly he’s aflame with it. He wants you so badly he can barely look at you anymore. He wants you so badly it consumes him, drives him insane, has him all fucked up and seething. He wants you, he wants you, he—

Loves.

Reality washes over him like a cold wave. Knocks him backwards, drowning, desperately trying to remember how to breathe. In, out; in, out—and none of it changes a goddamn thing.

Four years of this. Four years of touches exchanged in the dark, behind locked doors. Four years of yearning and trying and failing. Four years of everything getting lost in translation, because it’s hitting him now, but shouldn’t he have felt it before? Shouldn’t all those ‘drive me fuckin’ crazy, can’t fucking stand you’s he spoke into the crook of your neck rang hollow?

“Cheol—” you say, because you asked him something, tried to play along with this whole stupid charade, and he knows he’s frozen, just standing there, hand still wrapped around his cock, and he needs to say something, he needs to fix this—

“I’m a liar,” is what he comes up with. You’re still staring up at him, brows furrowed, pinched in the middle. Move, he wills himself, but nothing happens. “I’m a liar,” he says again, because if he says it enough you’ll believe it. “I’m sorry. I’m—”

“What are you talking about?”

He swallows. I’m in love with you, he wants to say. Feels the weight of the words on his tongue, heavy and pressing, and he thinks you should know. Even if you don’t feel the same, he thinks you deserve to know, but the way you’re looking at him—

He can’t bring himself to say it.

But he can—“Can I show you instead?”

Slowly, you nod. Seungcheol nods, too, still feeling off-kilter as he cradles your face in his hands, thumbs in the contours of your cheeks. Moves them down your neck, your shoulders, down the length of your arms. You meet him halfway, twining your fingers together, and he helps you stand, careful and considerate. At full height, he places a hand in the small of your back to tug you closer, kisses you like it’s the end of the world. Whines into your mouth at your familiar taste, and if he lets himself be delusional enough, he can pretend there’s form and substance to those sounds, that their edges are squared-off to form the words he wants to say.

Because it really might be the end of the world. Seungcheol has never known how to play the cards he’s been dealt when it comes to you. Always gets it wrong. Feints one way when he’s meant to go the other, takes the field with two left feet, always playing catch-up. Maybe the mistake was treating it like a game. Maybe the mistake was strategizing, only playing to win, because he lays you gently on his bed, fits his body in the space you create for him between your legs, and realizes he already won a long time ago.

He won the first time your eyes met. He won the first time he’d kissed you, more nerves and teeth than anything else. He won the first time you tucked yourself against his side and stared at his bedroom ceiling, half-smoked joint between your fingers, and made fun of the stupid flag he’d hung up. He won every time you took all the bullshit he threw at you and dished it right back. He won every time he had the privilege of tracing mindless shapes into your soft skin.

Every second of your time you chose to give him—all victories.

He presses in further. Groans when your hands move to his shoulders and grip tight; when your nails dig into the skin of his back. “I’ve been so stupid,” he says, punctuating his words with a nip at your ear. Smirks out of the corner of his mouth at your shuddering breath. “Haven’t I?”

“Yeah,” you answer, rolling your hips upward. He grabs at you desperately, tries to keep you still; hisses when you swat his hands away and redouble your efforts. “You’ve been a fucking asshole for a—for a while.”

You can’t see the way he pouts. Wonders, too, if that would work on you, if it’d earn him one of those rare moments of tenderness. “Well I’m trying to—shit, baby—trying to make it up to you, but you seem pretty determined to make me bust right now.”

He can see the way you roll your eyes. See the way the corners crinkle after as you laugh softly, breathlessly, still trying to chase a high Seungcheol refuses to provide. “You deserve it. You tried to dom me, you dickhead.”

Embarrassment sits obvious on his ruddy cheeks. He hides his face in the crook of your neck so you don’t see it, don’t have something to poke at him with later, but you’re having none of it. You thread your fingers through his hair and tug gently, forceful enough to have him pliable, and there it is: there are stars in your eyes as you stare up at him, tender and soft just like he hoped you’d look, and he misses the feeling of your nails on your scalp until you’re tugging at the delicate chain around his neck and pulling him closer. “Just kiss me and we’ll call it even.”

This is how it feels to get struck by lightning, he thinks. Every part of him is on fire, and he’s content to burn as his lips find yours. He sighs happily into your mouth, hikes your thigh higher around his middle, presses in to lay claim to what little space is left between you. Seungcheol is so close he can feel the rapid pace of your heartbeat, because this is not the way you usually kiss. What used to be dirty and quick, a means to an end, now has intent, purpose. He’s kissing you like he wants to steal the air from your lungs to replace it with something better.

Trails those same kisses down the length of your body. Open-mouthed at your neck, your collarbones, the space between your breasts. Teasing and slow in the space between each rib, just to watch the way your skin pebbles. Hungry and insistent at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, because if he’s feeling this unhinged, he wants you right there with him. Can’t bear the thought of still being in this alone. Not anymore.

“Legs over my shoulders.” You listen immediately, and Seungcheol mutters a quiet fuck at the sight before him. “God, you’re so wet.”

“No shit—”

He swats at your clit, delighting in the way your body jolts. “Hush. The only thing I wanna hear out of your smart mouth from now on is my fucking name.” And then he’s diving in.

He eats you out like a man starved; like he could do this every day for the rest of his life and he still wouldn’t be satisfied. Can’t help but rut against the mattress at the way you taste, the way your thighs tighten around his head, the sting as you pull at his hair. Places both hands beneath your ass to lift and drag you closer to his waiting mouth—licks at you wet and feverish, all of this seemingly more for him than it is for you, and you’ll get tired of it soon, just like you always do. You’ll tell him—

“Do it right, Cheol, please—”

And he’ll pull away and tsk, swat at you again. His responding laugh will be cocky and derisive when your body trembles again, frantic with the need for more. “What did I say, baby? Do you not trust me to make you come?” You cock an eyebrow, torn between throwing some sarcastic remark at him and following the rules long enough to get what you want. His voice grows serious as he presses a soft kiss to your core. “I will always take care of you.”

The rest is muscle memory.

The rest has a chorus of Cheol, Cheol, Seungcheol spilling from your lips as he suctions his own around your clit. The rest has you grinding your pussy against his face. The rest has him groaning at the way he’s so wholly consumed by you: the taste of you on his tongue, face soaked, two fingers pressed deep into your cunt. The rest has him saying that’s it, baby, come on my face, I know you can and feeling delirious when he finally pushes you over the edge; when your walls clench around his fingers, breathing fractured, when you grab at him until you’re eye-level and you’re licking into his mouth to taste yourself.

Tastes a lot like I love you.

“Want you to ride me,” he says, gaze half-lidded and pleading. You whine as he moves his thumb back to your clit, tracing slow, slow, slow circles, oversensitive. “Will you do that for me?”

The party seems so far away. Grows even further away when you nod and straddle his lap. Seungcheol sits up, tells you to wrap your legs around him. Can’t stand not touching you; needs every inch of his skin to be covered by you like a bruise—something deep that’ll last for days, weeks, months. The mottled colors will change, but it’ll still be there.

“Need you, Cheol,” you whisper, kissing his eyelids. He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes.

“You have me,” he answers, but it sounds foreign to his ears—sounds wretched, like the words have been punched out of him. It sounds like forfeit. “Always have.”

You pull back. Study his face. Run over his plush bottom lip with your thumb. It feels like an eternity of silence before you speak. “No, I haven’t,” you insist, tone insistent but delicate, like you’re trying to convince him of it, too. “Not like this.”

I love you.

You lift your hips just enough to sink down on his cock. Seungcheol’s moan is loud and unabashed, not afraid to let anyone hear the way you make him feel. All he can think is familiar: he knows your blinding white heat; has made countless homes in your tight grip he still holds the keys to; has done this so many goddamn times it’s second nature.

He was an absolute fool to think he could ever walk away.

You roll your hips, taking him deeper like you’ve got something to prove, body moving on its own sinuous accord. Seungcheol loves you like this, when you know exactly what you want and aren’t afraid to take it. When you press sloppy kisses to his neck, the column of his throat. When he grabs at your hips, tries to move you faster along the length of his cock, and you swat his hands away. When your rhythmic up-and-down turns into a slow grind that has you gasping and breathless, pussy spasming around him.

“Goddamn, I love this pussy,” he chokes out, fingers gripping tightly at the sheets since he can’t touch you. He’s mindless with pleasure, feels himself start babbling nonsense he can’t make sense of, and it’s overwhelming, having you like this. Isn’t sure how he’s survived this long, but maybe you were right.

Maybe it was never like this before.

Usually he’d take you from behind, quick and dirty, hands digging into the meat of your ass, palm cracking down on it every now and then, imparting white heat of his own. Usually he’d have you beneath him, knees pressed to your chest, all condescension as you told him, eyes rolled back, that he was too deep, that you couldn’t take it, and he’d rub at your clit and tell you you could as he dragged another orgasm out of you. Usually he’d be so frenzied and worked up he’d take you against the door, sweats pushed to mid-thigh, forearms straining as they held you up.

So, yeah—this is different. This is a patient, sensual dance to the finish line. This is Seungcheol in his rawest form: a live wire, vulnerable, anxious. This is the unknown, because something has to come after but he doesn’t know what it is.

This is Seungcheol throwing caution to the wind, leaning in close enough to taste the salt on your skin, and saying, “I love you.”

This is Seungcheol planting his feet and fucking up into you, unwilling to hear your response. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, but sometimes bliss is just bliss, and he’ll willingly take either.

This is you coming undone on his cock, breathing rapid and ragged, pupils blown wide as you stare at him in awe.

“Say it again.”

Someone slams into the wall just outside Seungcheol’s door, and all at once the real world creeps back in: the thrumming bass line of the music downstairs; laughter, shouting, and yelling; fists banging on shut doors—but he hears you loud and clear. Presses each word into your mouth this time and groans when you swallow them. Barely makes a sound as he spills inside of you, feeling like every nerve in his body is aflame.

The two of you are quiet for a time as you try to catch your breath. Seungcheol only moves to grab his duvet and wrap it around your shoulders, smiling fondly at the small thank you you mumble, seemingly still bogged down, well-fucked.

He presses a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Okay?”

You nod, push at him until he lays back and pulls you with him, lets you use his firm chest as a pillow. That flag you’d made fun of before isn’t up there anymore, but Seungcheol feels warm at the memory anyway, almost laughs at the comment he imagines you’d make.

Clears his throat. Tries to find his courage. “I really am sorry,” he tells you again, because it doesn’t matter if he loves you if he doesn’t know how to be good at it.

“I know, Cheol,” comes your easy reply. You’re tracing shapes on his stomach that have his muscles contracting. “I know you love me, too.” You sigh, press your lips to his rib cage. “Who knew it’d only take making out with Mingyu to get you to admit it.”

A wild laugh tumbles out of him. “Fuck off.” He can feel your grin.

“You got a fucked up way of showing it, though.”

He hums, holds onto you a little tighter. “Go easy on me, I only figured it out about an hour ago.”

“An hour?” you faux-gasp, make like you’re about to leave. “I’m outta here. I know my worth. If I’m going to say it back to someone, they need to be in love with me for at least two.”

He chokes at the implication, heart threatening to beat right out of his chest and into yours. He knows he looks exactly like the moonstruck, loved-up loser he is, and he coughs to cover it. “That’s what I said,” he lies. “Two hours. You must’ve heard it wrong.”

No, it was never like this.

#seungcheol x reader #seungcheol smut #scoups x reader #scoups smut #seungcheol imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #seungcheol fanfic #scoups fanfic #jewel writes #fic: wntt

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spideyjimin · 10 months ago

Text

Perfect time | jjk

⤷ part of the timing series

⏤ pairing: jungkook x female reader

⏤ genre: parent au, exes to lovers, ceo au, angst, fluff, and smut

⏤ rating: 18+

⏤ warnings: dilf!jungkook, tattooed!jungkook, swearing, mention of heartbreak, childbirth, mention of complications during childbirth, mention of abortion, mention of death, mention of toxic relationship, low self esteem, mention of the motherhood’s hardships, mention of sex, teasing, flirting, sexual tension, nipple play, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, jealousy, mention of breakups, dispute, making out, fingering, and creampie

⏤ words: 18,086

⏤ summary: right or wrong time? actually, was there a time at all for you and jungkook? following your heartbreaking conversation with him, you feel that you were loved but not wanted. however, would it be worse than feeling wanted but not loved? nevertheless, there’s a deep feeling inside you telling you that it’s far from being over with jungkook. will this mean that one day it will be the perfect time?

⏤ author’s note: the final part is finally here! it's less than 20k as I thought it would be but it's still quite long for me 🥴 I truly hope you enjoy this last part of the timing series, it was honestly super fun to write it & it also helped me a lot! i hope you like this part, let me know what you think! thanks a lot for all the amazing support , it made this wild experience very funny! 💛

As you’re looking at the screen with total disbelief, it makes you feel that the universe is throwing an unpleasant joke at your face. Your heart suddenly starts beating extremely fast in your chest. There’s absolutely no possible way that this moment is really happening. That this is real.

Your world is totally collapsing under your feet.

The past nine months have been quite hard, especially after the heartbreak Jungkook caused. Remembering the day he abandoned you sends shivers down your spine. You don’t like thinking about that moment because you felt completely alone with your bleeding heart in your hands. Currently, you don’t really know if you moved on from him but you’ve been seeing a guy, Yeonjun for the past two months. You’re not dating but you’re simply enjoying each other's company. Being around him makes you happy and that’s all that matters.

Right now, you’re lying on a medical examination table in the emergency room. This morning you woke up with terrible back pain. A pain that had only been growing even though you took some painkillers. Throughout your life, you experienced quite a lot of back pain so at first, this didn’t really surprise you, especially since yesterday was a crazy day.

Then, a stomach ache was added on top of the back pain which made everything very much unbearable. Yeonjun told you from the beginning to go to the doctor to check that out but you refused. When the stomach ache appeared, he took you to the hospital. There was no way he was going to let you suffer even though you were being very stubborn and you didn’t want to go.

Well, now that you’re looking at that screen, you believe he did right. He’s staying in the waiting room while you’re being examined. But thinking of him currently breaks your heart because what you’re seeing on the screen will probably put an end to the blooming relationship between you. You don’t want to lose him, he’s been such a ray of sunshine in your life. Even Lux told you that you look happier than ever since he’s been part of your life.

“I believe there is no need to tell you that we’re looking at a fully developed baby,” the obstetrician tells you. “Considering the size and the position of the baby, I would say that you’re in labor.”

A tear runs down your face. Since the baby is fully developed, it means that they were conceived nine months ago. Jungkook is the father of this baby of yours. He’s the only man you slept with nine months ago.

“Based on what I see right now, there are no concerning health problems but we would need to take several exams once they are born,” she adds.

You’re in complete shock. How on earth is this even possible? How could you have not noticed this? Were there even signs that you ignored? How could this baby have grown hidden inside your body? And why has this happened?

“I know this is a big shock,” the obstetrician says with a lot of sympathy. “But the only thing we can do right now is deliver this baby, check that everything is okay with them, and then you will think about what you’ll do.”

She isn’t wrong but your brain has totally stopped working. You’re not able to think or say anything because this is just too much to process.

“Would you let me check how many centimeters you are dilated?”

You simply nod because like she said, the focus right now is to deliver this little human safely. She informs you to remove your pants and underwear, to place your foot in the foot supports, and to place your butt as close as possible at the end of the table. She places herself in between your legs to examine you properly. She definitely isn’t the person you were expecting to have between your legs…

As this moment completely overwhelms you, all that you want is to have your mama with you. You just wish to be in the comfort of your mama’s arms because no other arms will ever be able to comfort you, well except your father’s. And right now, you feel like a little baby that needs to be reassured by her parents.

“You’re 7 centimeters dilated,” she informs you. “The baby is almost here. We would need to move you to a delivery room.”

She keeps talking about all the information you need to know before the delivery. But your mind stopped listening after ‘the baby is almost here’. You’re simply disconnected from reality since this is too much to handle. All you think about is to have your mama. Nothing else.

“Would you need someone to come?” she asks you.

“I need to call my mama,” you reply.

The obstetrician helps you to come down from the examination table. Quickly, you put back your underwear and trousers. As you do so, you notice that your belly has grown a tiny bit. In the midst of what she said while you were disconnected, you heard her saying that your belly will suddenly grow a lot until childbirth. This is scary. Extremely scary.

Once dressed, you grab your phone to call your mom. The obstetrician indicates to you to follow her to move to the delivery room.

“Mama,” you say when your mom picks up.

“Hello, sweetie,” she answers.

“Mama,” you repeat, “I’m going to have a baby very soon,” you immediately burst into tears.

Now that you’ve said it out loud, it seems real. You’re really going to have a baby today, you’re about to become a mother. The mother of yours and Jungkook’s baby. But you’re absolutely not ready to endorse that role. However, beyond not being ready to take on that role, you also have nothing prepared in your apartment to welcome a baby. No bed, no clothes, no diapers, and all the other things a mother is supposed to have when having a child.

But the true question right now is: do you want to keep the baby? or would you give them up for adoption?

“Yn,” she starts saying, “where are you?”

You tell her which hospital you are in and she immediately declares that she’ll be there in a couple of minutes. With surprise, the obstetrician hugs you to try to soothe you. Honestly, it’s also hard for her to see you in this ravaged state.

“I’m so sorry to be the one announcing this devastating news, miss y/l/n,” she whispers while caressing your back. “I really want to say that everything will be alright but it’s a promise I can’t make. Childbirth is hard, there might be complications, the baby could have issues that I couldn’t see in the ultrasound, and after all that, you will need to decide if you want to keep the baby.”

You hug her even more because it’s hard to hear all those things. This day is only getting worse and worse. Not only have you found out that you’re carrying a baby that you’ll have to deliver, but you’ll have to decide what to do if they live and have no health issues at birth. Give them up for adoption or keep them.

“Your mother is coming, right?” she asks and you nod. “Then, you’ll have the biggest support,” she adds. “Have you also informed the father of the baby?”

Right there, your body freezes even more. In the middle of all this chaos, you haven’t thought of informing Jungkook. Actually, you haven't even considered having Yeonjun informed since he’s waiting for you to come back. But you have to inform both of them, they can’t stay in the dark and even if you’re angry at Jungkook, you have to tell him. He deserves to have the choice to be present at your baby’s birth.

So you pull away from the obstetrician to call your ex. She instantly understands that you’re about to call your baby’s father. She takes a step back to give you the space you need. As you’re waiting for Jungkook to pick up, you nervously bite your lower lip. You haven’t spoken in nine months, and now you’re about to tell him that you’re carrying his child who will be born still today.

“Yn,” Jungkook says with surprise when he picks up.

Jungkook wasn’t expecting at all to receive a call from you, especially after what he did. He hears you sniffle and honestly, it breaks his heart. He wonders if it has anything to do with the space he asked for or if it has anything to do with him at all.

“Are you okay?” he asks with evident concern.

“I’m calling you because I’m about to give birth to our child. If you wish to be present, you can come,” you simply inform him.

At your words, his body completely freezes. He can’t believe what he’s hearing and many questions cross his mind. But honestly, he doesn’t want to waste a second questioning you, it’s better to join you at the hospital and raise any questions there. It would be better. After that, he asks which hospital you are in and he leaves his company to get to you as soon as possible.

Nurses appear in the room, asking you to wear a hospital blouse while the obstetrician calls for Yeonjun. Slowly but surely, your belly grows bigger. It’s still small but currently, you probably look like you’re 4-5 months pregnant. The blouse kind of hides it but it’s there, your pregnant belly is there. This is becoming very real. You’re about to give birth to a baby that you created with Jungkook. A little human will come to the surface of the earth because of you.

However, the only reasonable thing to do is to give this baby up for adoption. Jungkook broke your heart, you haven’t spoken since then and you’re absolutely not ready for this. A baby isn’t a little thing. A baby is a human you’ll have to forever take care of. A baby you’ll be responsible for at least 18 years. This baby will forever link you with Jungkook and because of all those reasons, this baby will be happier with another family. If you had found out about this pregnancy at its premises, you would have aborted. There’s no doubt about it. Now, you can’t abort but you can offer them a much better life.

As you’re walking in circles in the room to distract from the excruciating pain, Yeonjun enters the room with worry written all over his face.

“Yn,” he says while coming in your direction, “what’s going on?”

You take a very deep breath as you feel a contraction. “I’m about to give birth,” you tell him, “to Jungkook’s child.”

With Yeonjun, you have spoken quite early on about your ex but you haven’t spoken about everything. He knows the most important things, just as you know the overall story of his relationship with his ex. His eyes wide open, absolutely surprised by your words. All this time that he has known you, there was literally a human growing inside you. That’s wild.

“It’s a cryptic pregnancy,” you add. “The pain I’ve been feeling was due to the fact that I was in labor.”

Yeonjun nods, understanding the situation. It all makes sense now. But he’s worried about you, about what you’re feeling right now.

“How are you?” he asks with concern.

“Not good,” you reply. “Physically this is horrible and emotionally, it’s devastating. My mind is all over the place but I don’t want this baby,” you tell him crying.

Yeonjun holds you close and dearly in his arms. He can only imagine how you are feeling right now. This is a life-changing thing. After this, you’ll never be the same no matter what decision you take.

“I don’t want this baby,” you keep repeating while sobbing in his arms.

He doesn’t know what to say nor what to do. You’re in pain physically and emotionally and all he can do is support you through this. It’s not going to be easy from now on but he’ll hold your hand, he’ll be there for you because it is what you need. His heart is very much broken when he hears you crying and repeating that you don’t want this baby. It’s hard for him but he pushes away what he’s feeling to be there for you, to focus solely on you.

His eyes scan the room to find a nurse. He needs guidance to help you in the best way possible. Plus, he knows that you deeply need it as well. The medical team needs to guide you through everything until the birth. A nurse enters the room at that precise moment.

“Have you changed your clothes, miss y/l/n?” she asks while getting closer to you two.

“Yes,” you answer, looking up at her, “but please call me yn.”

She nods with a little smile.

“The obstetrician informed me about the full situation. The good news is that the baby is very well-positioned and they are slowly descending. I will need to examine you so we can check if we see their head.”

This time, you’re the one nodding. Yeonjun helps you to reach the hospital bed and to lay down. It’s quite difficult to move with this terrible pain caused by the contractions. The nurse checks everything and a smile appears on her face.

“So we see the baby’s head, this is good. Now, it’s a matter of hours before the baby is here.”

Tears roll even more down your face. In a matter of hours, your world would change forever because of this exact baby that you don’t want.

“Yn, I know it’s very hard for you right now but I need you to only focus on giving birth,” she says. “I will guide you through every step and I won’t be leaving you alone. In no time, this pain will be gone.”

Her words are adorable and it touches you deeply but it doesn’t change anything.

“Now, I will need to monitor your contraction and baby’s heartbeat. It won’t hurt, I’ll only place a monitor on your belly. Is it okay?”

Again you nod. While the monitor is placed on your belly, the door opens, revealing another nurse with your mom. She runs to you. The first thing she does is place a kiss on your forehead.

“Oh my god,” she whispers. “It’s really happening.”

For everyone in this room, it feels unreal. This pregnancy has had the effect of a bomb because it is beyond unexpected. Nobody saw anything and your mother feels some guilt as she sees you with tears in your eyes and so much pain painted all over your face. She should have noticed it.

But it’s nobody’s fault. Nobody could have seen it.

“I don’t want this baby, mama,” you say with tears running down your face.

“I know, sweetheart,” she caresses your face. “But don’t think about it now, focus on giving birth, and then, you’ll decide what to do with the baby,” she says before pressing another kiss on your forehead.

“But I don’t want…”

Before you can finish your sentence, the door opens to reveal Jungkook. His eyes land on the only person he has ever deeply loved. You. He instantly notices that you’re suffering ⏤ and not just a bit ⏤ but his heart breaks when he sees you crying. This only sight is too much for him but he’s here. Never would he have missed the birth of his child. Your child. This is something he never thought possible. Neither did you.

The atmosphere is quite heavy in the room, all of you feel it. All eyes are on Jungkook, he offers a little smile before walking in your direction. Yeonjun moves to give him the space to be near you, and it’s just at that moment that Jungkook notices him. However, he doesn’t really start questioning who this man is and what he is doing here. All he cares about right now is to understand this situation.

As you see Jungkook standing next to you, it makes this chaotic situation even more real, which makes it even more overwhelming. You can’t have a baby with him, it’s not possible. Things between you have never worked out and they are actually complicated.

“Hey, yn,” he finally says. “What is going on?”

“I didn’t know,” you tell him, still crying. “I promise you that I didn’t.”

The second he entered the room, Jungkook instantly understood that you weren’t aware of this pregnancy. The suffering was beyond the one of childbirth, there was an evident emotional distress written all over your face and it was combined with the pain of childbirth. He assisted at Arya’s birth so he saw how painful it is to give birth to a little human. So, naturally, he didn’t need you to say anything to understand the full picture.

“It’s okay, yn,” he gently says, “I knew it.”

You nod. Every person in this room is shattered to see you like this. Your mother and Jungkook would even say that this comes close to how you were when your sister passed away. You look completely overwhelmed by the situation, and the only other time it happened was with your sister’s death.

“How are you feeling?”

Even though this is causing a lot of pain, you can see that Jungkook is genuinely and deeply concerned about you.

“Not good,” you admit honestly, “and I don’t want this baby.”

“It’s understandable, yn,” he replies. “This is a massive surprise, and giving birth is hard too but you have the support of every person here, we won’t let you down in this particularly difficult moment.”

To be honest, you weren’t expecting those words to come from Jungkook’s mouth. From your mother or from Yeonjun, yes but never from Jungkook. However, it warms your heart. Having them three supporting you through this difficult moment helps tremendously. It doesn’t erase the physical and emotional pain but it eases it.

The following hours have been the most painful ones that you ever experienced. Time seemed to have completely stopped while the intensity of the contractions smashed you completely. But slowly, you could sense the baby descending. It was extremely weird but it was also a very unique experience. Even if you were in pain, you were also in awe of everything that your body was doing to give birth to your child.

You walked a lot in the hospital with Jungkook and your mother to help out with the pain but you were stopping every time you were having a contraction. Yeonjun was present but in the background because this moment was yours and Jungkook’s. It wasn’t his even though he really wished to be part of it. This wasn’t his child that you were delivering. It was Jungkook’s.

Once you reached the 10 centimeters of dilation, you laid down on the hospital bed to give birth to your baby. It was horrible to push, you were feeling like everything inside you was getting ripped. Feeling the baby being pushed down was awful. Jungkook was holding your left hand, encouraging you the way he could. On your right side, it was your mother that was holding your hand. Yeonjun wasn’t in the room, you were simply allowed to have 2 people with you. It broke your heart that he had to leave but honestly, he preferred that way. What truly mattered to him was to be present for all the other moments. Plus, he’ll be present for you once the baby is born. He’ll support you when you have to make a decision concerning your baby.

After what felt like an eternity, the room was filled with the loud cries of your baby. The baby was instantly put against your chest, your hands automatically wrapped him to make sure that they were really here. The feeling of your child’s skin against yours eased your mind in a way that you can’t express. However, what hit you the most was the love you felt for that tiny human. How could that even be possible? Hours ago you didn’t even want this child to even exist but right after being born, you felt love for them.

This love you felt isn’t that love described by every mother. It wasn’t like loving your mom for example but there was a certain love, one that you weren’t expecting to feel since you didn’t want this baby in the first place.

The baby’s cries calmed down when they were placed against you. Your hands naturally caressed them in an attempt to calm them down. The moment was reassuring for you both and definitely very much needed. It was your first interaction together. The first moment you shared with the little human you created.

“This is a very loud little boy,” the obstetrician said while revealing the gender of your baby. Her eyes looked up at Jungkook. “Would you like to cut the umbilical cord?”

Your ex nodded before moving closer to her. She showed him where to cut and he did it with immense pride. It was the second umbilical cord that he cut but each time, he felt nothing more than pride. The pride of becoming a father.

“This strong boy was born on December 15th at 22:01,” the obstetrician said while looking at the clock in the room.

The second the time of birth was announced you handed the baby to Jungkook. Despite everything, he was the father after all and he deserved a first moment with his son. A big smile appeared on his face when he saw his son for the first time. Just like you, he felt an unexplainable love for this tiny baby. Honestly, while you were in labor, he didn’t stop to think if he wanted to keep this child or give them up for adoption. He was only focused on helping you out.

Inexplicably, as you were watching them, you felt something inside your heart. Again, it was something you can’t quite describe but it was definitely some sort of love. If you were honest with yourself, you’d know that you were still in love with Jungkook, and seeing him with your child made your heart burst even more with love.

Your eyes were glued to that little tiny human that you literally pushed out from your body. This morning, you were still simply you. And just like that, at night, you became a mother.

Jungkook spent the night with you at the hospital. He informed Eunjin that he would need her to take care of Arya for at least a week. He didn’t explain the reason behind his request but he told her that he would explain later. Right now, what matters the most is being next to you and figuring this all out. Because now, you’ll have to decide the future of the boy you conceived.

Your son underwent multiple tests in the first hours of his tiny existence to confirm that he didn’t have any serious medical condition, which was the case. The little baby is in solid health and he amazes you even more, he dearly held on to life. No matter what decision you make, you will forever admire this strong little boy.

For the past hour, you’ve been looking at him sleeping in his little crib. The nurses swaddled him in a blanket and put a little cap on him. You can’t help but find him extremely adorable but as you stare at him you wonder if keeping him is the best thing to do. Merely hours before he was born, you didn’t want him but the love you felt for him the minute he was born has changed everything. You’re not sure anymore about what has to be done.

“He’s so calm,” Jungkook��s voice echoes in the room.

Your eyes look up at him. He’s sitting on a chair, on the other side of the crib and he’s also been staring at your son for the past hour. Both of you are completely lost, none of you knows what to do. For sure, you both have always wanted to have children but never under those circumstances. Well, Jungkook feels extremely guilty to have another child with someone he’s not in a relationship with and he can only blame himself for it. But this time, it’s completely different. This was a surprising birth.

“He is,” you reply. “It seems like he doesn’t want to bother anyone,” you add.

Seeing this little baby brings Jungkook back to the day Arya was born. She was even tinier than him, they were also very different but the love he felt for them the second he saw them for the first time is exactly the same. They are both his children, the flesh of his flesh. Looking at his tiny son makes him want to keep him. He wants to protect this little human. He wants to raise him. He wants to see him grow. He wants to see what kind of person he will become. He simply wants to give him love.

But the truth is that it ain’t that simple. Neither of you expected this baby to arrive and he knows very well that he broke your heart. Things are definitely not easy between you. Adding a child in the mix won’t make this any easier so realistically speaking giving him up for adoption is the best thing you could do for this child. He’ll be with parents who will deeply love him, with parents who will be happily together. He’ll grow up in a much better environment. This child deserves the best.

“This whole situation breaks my heart for him,” you say while your gaze moves between your son and your ex. “He’s been hiding for 9 months, surviving while I wasn’t taking any precaution. I have so much admiration for him but he deserves better,” your eyes now stop on Jungkook. “I didn’t even want him before he was born, I didn’t even notice him. He was literally growing inside me and I didn’t see him. What kind of human am I?”

You start crying intensely. Jungkook stands up, running in your direction before holding you tightly in his arms. You blame yourself a lot for this whole situation. If you had noticed your pregnancy earlier, you wouldn’t be in this position right now. Feeling his strong arms around you brings you some kind of comfort. It also makes you feel like you’re not alone.

“Hey,” Jungkook says while rubbing your back, “don’t be hard on yourself like that. It is definitely not your fault, this is something you couldn’t have noticed. And look at him, he’s very healthy, he’s perfectly fine so even if you didn’t feel him, you did everything great otherwise he wouldn’t be here and healthy.”

Your eyes are completely shut while you sob in Jungkook’s arms. Honestly, having him by your side in this crazy situation is very helpful and very much needed. You desire nothing more than to be angry at him for absolutely everything but this is a position you both put yourself in. You need him to navigate this together and in the best way possible. This is a human’s life we’re talking about. It’s not a little thing you can get over.

“This is definitely a tricky position we’re both in because we have to decide what’s best for him in such a short amount of time but I truly believe that he’s here for a reason. No matter what decision we take, I’m sure he’s going to do just fine because he’s your son. You’re a very strong person and look how strong he already is. I’m absolutely proud of the little man he already is,” Jungkook confesses. “Being able to call him my son swells my heart with pride.”

Fatherhood is something Jungkook knows very well. Being proud of your child is something you feel the second they’re born. But in this case, he feels even more pride for him because he survived 9 months while hiding inside you. He’s very much aware that the decision you’ll take will be the best for him but he’ll forever feel tremendous pride for this little man.

“You’re not at fault nor should you feel guilty for all of this. It’s nobody’s fault here. Things are pretty rocky right now but we will go through everything together. I won’t ever leave you alone.”

Jungkook means every word that leaves his mouth. He’s not proud of the way he handled things when you came back to his life but this is a situation that he doesn’t want to run away from. For sure, he can’t leave you alone, especially right now. He’s aware that you need him more than ever, and he also needs you. And from now on and whatever happens, he’ll forever be by your side. There’s no way he can abandon you after this.

“However, now, we should focus on what future we want to offer him,” he whispers.

The way you’re holding on to his arms reminds him of the time your sister passed away. That’s the only other time that you held him like this. It feels like your life really depends on it and that if you let go, you’ll die. And it devastates him. Because those two events are completely opposites. The last time was because of the ending of a life, death and this time is because of the beginning of a life, birth.

“I don’t know, Kook,” you manage to say in between sobs.

“Then, let’s think together,” he says while gently pushing you.

As much as he wants to be the strong one, he can’t when he sees your ravaged face. This is beyond heartbreaking. His hands place your hair behind your ears while you clean your face. You thank him for helping you out, and he offers you a little smile. Both of you quickly glance at the little boy peacefully sleeping in the crib.

“We need to think beyond what we are feeling right now, okay?” he asks and you nod. “So, first off, what would happen to him if we gave him up for adoption?”

You take a moment to think. It’s a bit complicated to really think with all the overwhelming negative emotions you’re feeling right now but you try as hard as possible to push them aside. You really want to focus on your son’s future, he truly deserves it.

“Well, a social worker would come to take him and probably ask us if we are 100% sure we want to put him up for adoption. Afterwards, I’d be discharged and we would both go back home. We would resume back to our lives pretending that nothing ever happened,” you say, Jungkook nods agreeing with your reasoning. “However, we would realize that it’s impossible to pretend that nothing ever happened. Right there, we would most probably regret our decision and imagine how things could have turned out if we kept him. Maybe, we would reach out to each other to discuss it. We would cry and we would probably try to find him to see what he has become.”

Just the thought of having regrets hurts a lot for the two of you. At that exact moment, the right decision becomes quite clear but it is still best to go through both scenarios.

“Now, from his point of view,” you say. “Most probably he’d have a rather good life unless he remains forever in a foster home. There are chances that he’d grow up feeling unloved, he’d wonder why we gave him up for adoption. If he ended up in a family that would deeply love him, he’d be loved but there would forever be this feeling of being not wanted. That feeling would also come from the fact that I had a cryptic pregnancy and that he was hiding all along,” you finalize.

This is a heartbreaking reality but you’ve heard in many documentaries that most adopted kids feel that way. It’s hard for them to feel wanted and loved. Your son doesn’t deserve to grow with that feeling simply because he wasn’t expected in your life. It’s a shock right now but it won’t be the case forever.

“I couldn’t agree more with you,” Jungkook replies. “And now for the other scenario?”

His big doe eyes stare at you deeply. You give yourself a couple of seconds before replying although you pretty much know the answer.

“First off, we would have to find a name because he couldn’t go by baby forever,” a little smile appears on your face as you look at your little baby. Jungkook notices the way you smile and it can’t help but warm his heart. “We would have to find an arrangement and figure out how we would want to raise him. It probably would never be easy but I guess we could find a common ground for him. There’s absolutely no doubt that we’d love him but we would need some time to overcome the shock we both feel right now. I’m very much uncertain about what the future holds if we keep him but I know that no matter what we’ll love him with all our hearts because we are his parents.”

Saying out loud that you are his parents is another reality check, and those are the final words to conclude your decision. It’s quite obvious what you’ll do. You’re keeping him.

“On my side, the decision is quite taken,” you say, looking up at Jungkook.

His deep stare sends shivers down your spine. Honestly, it would be a lie to say that you don’t feel anything anymore for this man but it’s best to brush it off.

“I’ll keep him because, in the long run, it is a decision that I would never regret,” you explain. “I’m very much aware that it’s not going to be easy for a lot of reasons but I already love him so much and I will forever love him. I can’t give him up for adoption because I will eventually regret it and I will break him by doing so. He deserves the best, I’m convinced I can give him that or at least I’ll try every day to do it,” you say. “Because I’m his mom.”

Jungkook smiles when you say that you’re the mother of his child. He doesn’t doubt at all that you’ll be a great mom, from his perspective, you already are.

“But the final decision will also depend on you,” you add.

“My decision was basically taken the second I laid my eyes on him,” he tells you. “But I had some doubts due to the shock. However, now that we’ve thought of both scenarios, all that I have to say is that I would never be able to live without him. He’s my son. I couldn’t live with myself if I gave him up for adoption.”

You’re thankful Jungkook was the reasonable one that made you really think about the future. A decision can’t be taken on a temporary feeling because it can cause a lot of damage. For sure, due to the surprise, giving him up for adoption seems like the right option but in the long run, it isn’t for any of you. Three lives would forever be broken.

“Thank you,” you say as you lay on your head on his shoulder.

Jungkook would be lying if he said that he didn’t love feeling your head on his shoulder. He would say right here that he regrets what he did to you nine months ago but he’s also very much aware that he doesn’t deserve you, especially not after what he did to you. It also won’t be correct of him to discuss that when you’re going through a tough time. Right now, all he can do is support you and be a good father to your child.

For the entire day, there’s been only you, Jungkook, and your little boy. You both agreed to be alone the entire day to focus on the right decision to take and to also find a name for your baby boy. But it has been a struggle. None of you seem to agree on a name.

“Did it take you and Eunji so long to find Arya’s name?” you ask.

Even though you know where the name comes from, Eunji also chose it. Your ex didn’t name his daughter all by himself, there’s a mother too. At the end of the day, she was the one who carried Arya for nine months.

“Well, it for sure took us more than 5 months,” he replies. “When we found out that it was a girl, we started a list with all the names we loved. However, we didn’t like the names the other liked. For 2 months, we kept adding names to the list to see if we could find one. Arya wasn’t on my list because it had a deep meaning for me, it was the name we agreed to give to our daughter,” his eyes stare deeply at you.

You still remember the day you were talking about all the cute names you’d give to your children. It’s a moment that always warms your heart because back then, everything seemed so easy. Your sister was still alive, you hadn’t kissed your ex-crush, everything was going well with Jungkook, and you were still head over heels in love with him. Well, honestly, it is still the case today even if he broke your heart.

The man standing in front of you has been your greatest love, the first man you really and deeply loved. A first real love always remains in your heart although they hurt you. They will forever stay in your heart. Hopefully, with time, the strong feelings you have for Jungkook will diminish, or at least, you hope that you will be able to keep moving with your life without those sentiments being an obstacle to your romantic life.

“Proposing that name would be like a betrayal towards you. I couldn’t do that,” he whispers. “Eunji was the one proposing it and at first, I pretended I didn’t like it. She really loved it but it was kind of removed from our list, which was still empty when she was 7 months pregnant,” a little smile appears on his face. “Then, at that point, you realize your daughter will be here very soon and you have to find a name. We needed to find compromises, we needed to find names that we at least liked a little bit. Again, Arya was not on our list,” his eyes never leave your face.

Honestly, as you glare at him, you can see in his eyes all the affection he has for you but you brush it off. However, it is actually the way he’s looking at you. Jungkook holds a lot of affection for you. He’ll always cherish you even though he behaved like a child. His heart still burns for you but he can’t come back in your life. Or at least not right now. For sure, if he does so, he’s very much aware that he’ll break your heart once more and you absolutely don’t deserve it. He’s even convinced that he doesn’t deserve you.

Those past nine months, he got the time to sit down and contemplate his actions. Unquestionably, he acted like a child. He was selfish, he only took from you what interested him, and then threw you away. But honestly, he never wondered what it would be like to have you back in his life. For the past ten years, he desperately wanted you back but he didn’t consider past that, probably because deep down, he was convinced that you would never come back. However, you came back and everything simply became overwhelming.

“Eunji kept bringing back Arya, and I don’t know, I simply gave up at some point because I always adored that name,” he explains. “I only explained after the birth of Arya why I didn’t want that name for our daughter, but honestly, for a long moment, I felt I betrayed you. I know it’s a deep emotion but back then, I hadn’t moved on.”

It is still the case today. The only difference now is that you’re actually around him and things are way more complicated than back then because he’s the one that messed everything up. Today, it’s his own fault if he can’t move on.

For a brief moment, you simply stare at each other like there’s nobody else but you in the room. It brings you both back to the time when you were lovers, when everything was absolutely easy. For a moment, you forget all the terrible things that have happened between you. You forget how toxic your relationship has been. It’s easy to forget when strong feelings are involved.

“It’s nice to finally know the background of Arya’s name,” you break this special moment, your eyes looking down at the little baby sleeping. “Now, we have to find one for our little mister.”

Well, this time around, you don’t have 5 months to find a name for your son. Today, he needs to have a name because he needs to be registered. The nurses have agreed to extend the deadline a bit but only because Jungkook is quite known and they were charmed by him.

“You know, I want his name to be related to my sister in some kind of way because I think she has sent him to us,” you say, convinced that your little man is a little gift from her. A gift she’s giving to you and Jungkook. She always adored him, you used to call yourself the ‘Fantastic Four’. You used to spend a lot of time with her and her boyfriend, it was always a good time.

“Yes, I’m also convinced she gave us this little man, and it would only make sense to name him in a way related to her,” he replies.

Jungkook was terribly affected by her death. He loved your sister, she was one of his closest friends, and losing her was devastating. Certainly not in the same way as you because she was your everything. As you lost her, you lost a big part of yourself.

“She’s my angel, the star that shines the brightest in the sky,” you add.

“Maybe we could try finding a name whose meaning is star?” Jungkook suggests.

You nod, totally agreeing with him. That’s definitely a fantastic idea. Jungkook googles ‘boy name meaning star’, and you both look at the suggestions. There’s nothing really interesting and matching your interests. The only thing you agreed on was to give him a short name like Arya.

The boy name you had chosen when you were younger was Axel but when you looked at your son, it didn’t feel like it was his name. He doesn’t have a face of being called Axel but in case you don’t manage to find a name for him, you’ll go with Axel. It would have made sense to name him like that because it was your decision but it doesn’t seem right.

However, the name Leo appears in Google's suggestions. The name catches your attention. Leo makes reference to a constellation in the sky and it also means lion. This is the perfect name for your child. A constellation is a group of stars so it definitely makes reference to your sister. Lion is a very strong animal, and your little baby is already very strong. This name is absolutely perfect for your son.

You and Jungkook look at each other with a bright smile on your faces. There’s no need to say anything, you both fell in love with this name. Then you look down at your calm little boy.

Jeon Leo, it’s perfect.

You bend down as much as you can, your body is completely sore from giving birth. It hurts everywhere. You caress the soft face of your son, he giggles a bit but not much. Now, this is your reality. You’re the mother of Leo, the son you share with Jungkook. Things are pretty rocky right now, and for sure, they are going to be for a little while. Your emotions are all over the place, and you’re convinced they will be for a time since now, you’re not going to sleep much.

But right now, all you want to focus on is your son.

The next day, both you and Jungkook agreed on only having your parents visit you. If each of you starts inviting people, at the end of the day, a lot of people will come, and it will be too much for you and Leo. It was absolutely adorable to see them interact with the baby. For your parents, it is their first grandchild but it isn’t the case for his parents. However, it doesn’t change the fact that they were mesmerized by him.

Your parents shed a little tear when you explained the meaning of his name. When your parents were in the room, it felt like your sister was also present. Honestly, it was a magical moment. A moment you’ll forever cherish in your heart, especially when they hold him in their arms. Your father even cried when he had Leo in his arms. At that precise moment, it didn’t matter that they never really liked Jungkook, it didn’t matter that he hurt you. Nothing really mattered, except sharing a family moment.

Having Jungkook’s parents was also very special. You hadn’t seen them in a while so it was good to see them. They were extremely happy to have another grandchild, they also liked the name. they said it was original just like Arya. Honestly, they were as surprised as your parents that you had a child together. None of them knew that you had seen each other but they didn’t raise out loud any question since this birth was unexpected.

When you’re alone at night in the room, you stare at Jungkook rocking Leo in his arms. Minutes ago you were breastfeeding him, it was a battle but slowly you were getting there, but it was a special and bonding moment between you. Now, Jungkook is trying to find a bonding moment with his son. Both of you are trying to create a connection with your son and learn how to love him.

Nevertheless, as you’re looking at them, it hits you in the face that Jungkook is now part of your family.

For the first time in four months, you’re out without Leo. Your mother and Lux took you out of the house so you could breathe a little bit. Everything has been a complete mess since Leo's birth, and honestly, you haven’t been feeling very great. From your perspective, you’re a terrible mother because it feels like you don’t love him at all. Yes, you felt some kind of love when he was born but since then, it feels like nothing has changed. For sure, the sleepless nights haven’t been helpful.

Most of the time, you feel completely lost. You don’t know exactly what you need to do, but the only thing that calms him down is when you hold him or when you’re breastfeeding him. But outside that, you don’t really know what to do. Everything is simply overwhelming. Being a mother is overwhelming.

“How are you feeling?” Lux rises after the waiter brings the coffees.

Your mother has come quite often to help you with Leo. She’s been your savior. Well, Jungkook has also been your savior. The fact that he already has a daughter is actually useful. He’s been by your side in every way. He’s very supportive and he always finds the words to reassure you when you’re crying in the middle of the night because you can’t put Leo to sleep. Frankly, without him, you don’t know how you could have survived those past four months.

“Extremely tired,” you answer. “Physically and mentally.”

They both know how hard it has been for you, and they can’t imagine how it must feel to become a mother overnight. On top of that, the father is your ex. It mustn’t be pleasant to constantly be around your ex, and let alone one that has broken your heart not long ago.

“But having Yeonjun helps me to kind of relax in the middle of this chaos,” you add with a little smile growing on your face.

Yeonjun has been your rock since the birth of Leo, he has helped you a lot. For sure, Jungkook has been your savior but Yeonjun is your rock. Without them and your mother, you would have completely fallen apart. He often comes to visit and he calls you everyday. He always makes sure that you eat every day and he’s also present to remind you when you need to take a shower.

However, what surprises you is how both he and Jungkook have managed to coexist together very peacefully. You’ve been living at Jungkook’s place since your son’s birth and the reason behind it is to make things easier. You are together through every step, you change diapers, you feed him, you reassure him when he cries, and you take turns when he wakes you up at night. You’ve been in this together and that’s your strength.

Yeonjun has been coming to your ex’s place. Jungkook has welcomed him with open arms and Yeonjun has felt comfortable being at his place. Your ex was the one encouraging you to give him a chance, to see where things could go but for now, it’s best to not start a relationship. Everything is pure chaos and you’re scared to hurt him unwillingly, simply because you’re going through a lot right now.

Jungkook has seen the way he helped you since the moment you were crying in the hospital bedroom and the way he has been there for you when he got all the reasons to leave you. He knows Yeonjun is the right one for you.

“That’s sweet that he’s been around,” your mother says. “I noticed how it has been helping you to stay sane.”

That is true. He’s been respecting your space which is more than appreciated while you try to figure out how to balance everything. As soon as things calm down a bit, you’ll go back to your apartment. You can’t stay forever at your ex’s place, especially since it’s hard to always be around him. The heartbreak is still very much here, and sometimes you feel like it’s amplified by the lack of sleep. But right now it seems like the easiest solution to navigate those first months.

“Yep,” you answer. “But it’s also not always easy to constantly be around Jungkook,” you add. “I know that we agreed that it was the best solution to live together for the first months of Leo’s life but it doesn’t change the fact that he hurt me.”

Maybe overtime, it won’t hurt anymore, at least that’s what you think. It’s already been more than a year and it hurts less than it did months ago. Certainly, having Yeonjun now helps a lot to ease the pain. He’s been treating you like a real princess and you feel extremely loved by him. You actually can’t wait to see how things will evolve with him, especially once you go back to your apartment.

“It doesn’t hurt as it did months ago but sometimes, all this chaos amplifies the pain. In those moments, I try to avoid him as much as I can,” you explain.

Well, sometimes, it’s complicated to avoid him, and most of the time, you completely explode. You throw all your anger at his face before totally bursting into tears, and since there’s nobody else in those moments, he’s the only one holding you in his arms to console you. Jungkook can imagine how it can be difficult for you but all he can do is be present for you when you need it.

“Honestly, I don’t know how you do,” Lux tells you. “If I were in your shoes, I would have already punched him in the face. I already wanted to do it with Henry when our son was born so I can’t imagine how it must be in your situation.”

Nobody around you can understand it. They can try but that’s it. Jungkook is the only one who can understand you. He also became a father overnight, he also had to figure out how to love his son, and he also had to figure out how to balance this new life. The only thing he can’t understand is how to live with an ex that broke your heart.

“It’s for Leo’s best interest,” you say. “And for mine as well,” you admit out loud. “It would be too hard if half of the time I was alone in my apartment.”

The two options you considered were living together for a couple of months or sharing custody right from the start. However, you knew that sharing custody would be way too difficult for you. You won’t regret the decision you made because even with Jungkook by your side, it’s still not easy. Your heart breaks whenever you hear Leo cry.

“But as soon as we find a balance, I’ll move back to my apartment. We agreed we’d stay at his place for at least the first 6 months of Leo’s life and that we’d assess the situation every month. But it’s quite obvious that it’s not the moment yet.”

They both nod. If right now this dynamic is what helps you, then you should keep doing it for as long as needed. Being with them out of the house feels good, it simply feels good to see other faces. You simply enjoy this moment with them. For the next 2 hours, you stay with them and talk about everything and anything.

Afterwards, you go back to Jungkook’s place. Since Arya is with her mother today, he was all alone with Leo. When you arrive, he’s half asleep with his son sleeping on his chest. There’s white noise playing in the background. It’s probably one of the YouTube videos he found to put Leo asleep. Your eyes quickly check out his torso which is on full display. He’s still extremely hot, and sometimes, you catch yourself wanting to have sex with him. You know it’s all due to your hormones being all over the place. But to be honest, being a father makes him look extra sexy.

“Hi, yn,” he whispers.

You get close to take a look at your son, he’s peacefully sleeping on his father’s chest which makes him look extremely adorable. Leo has been growing a lot for the past four months and getting chubbier day after day but it’s normal. The nurse told you that he has a normal weight and height for a four-month-old. Your son is absolutely so cute, he looks like a perfect mix between you and Jungkook.

“Hard to put him to sleep?” you ask with a little smile.

“Yep,” he replies. “Even doing the skin-to-skin thing wasn’t helping, but thankfully, white noises always work,” he says while trying not to speak too loudly.

“Maybe it’s best to try to put him in his crib?” you ask.

“Maybe not now,” he answers.

Jungkook feels a certain guilt by contradicting you, especially since he notices that you didn’t like his answer. But before he can even add something, you nod and leave the room to go to the bathroom to take a quick shower. However, before doing so, you sit down on the floor to pump your milk. Your breasts are heavy and full of milk. If you don’t empty them, even a tiny bit, they’ll explode. At least that’s what it feels like. You place the pumps on each of your breasts and close your eyes.

Seeing Jungkook’s body always wakes a fire inside you, and you need to calm it down. You always feel some culpability, especially since you’re falling in love with Yeonjun. There’s no doubt that you’re going to end up with him but Jungkook is always in a corner of your mind. He’s always there, and you’re afraid to hurt Yeonjun.

There’s a knock on the door, followed by Jungkook calling your name. You instantly open your eyes before readjusting yourself on the bathroom floor.

“Yes,” you answer.

“I’m sorry for contradicting you,” he mumbles.

“It’s okay Jungkook, you don’t have to be sorry every time we contradict each other,” you add.

Today, his disagreement had a bittersweet taste. You don’t exactly know why but it hurt you a bit when he didn’t agree with you. It’s silly but it doesn’t change the way you feel.

“I saw your face, yn,” he adds. “And I know that face very well, you didn’t like my answer.”

You close your eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep breath. You’re trying to calm yourself down.

“Leave me alone,” you say while opening your eyes again.

Now, Jungkook is the one taking a deep breath.It’s not always easy for you both to raise the little man, and right now is one of those moments. He’s scared to hurt you again in those moments, and you clearly don’t deserve it. You’re discovering maternity under those exceptional circumstances and hurting you even more will only make things worse.

“Leo is now sleeping in his little crib,” he tells you. “You were right, he’s better there.”

Lately, your ex has been trying to be gentle with you. No matter how you’re feeling, he’ll let you take it out on him. The situation you’re both in is tricky but he wants you to know that he’s there for you. That you’re not alone.

“Okay, just let me take a shower,” you reply.

“Okay but if you need anything, let me know.”

Jungkook leaves you alone, and you enjoy that moment to calm down. For sure, you need it because you don’t want to explode for something as little as this. Afterwards, you leave the bathroom with your pump, and the little bottles with your milk. The first thing you do is go to the kitchen to put the milk in a small bag and indicate the day and the hour of the milk withdrawal. You place it in the freezer and then, you quickly go to your room.

Leo is sleeping in his crib, he seems so serene. Your ex placed a little blanket on him, and you caressed the right chubby cheek of your son. You’re proud of yourself to have survived so far and to have kept him alive this far. He’s so big now compared to when he was born, which is normal but it always impresses you how much he has grown in such a short amount of time.

After checking on your son, you join his father in the living room. You sit next to him on the couch, he’s wearing a shirt now and you’re thankful for that.

“I’m also sorry for my reaction,” you tell him. “Leo was finally sleeping on you after you struggled so it was normal you didn’t want to move.”

Since Leo’s birth, you and Jungkook have been communicating a lot. It’s a good thing because it has been helping you tremendously to navigate this all.

“Don’t worry,” he answers, “I guess we’re both to blame here.”

“And please try to wear shirts when I’m around,” you add.

A smile appears on his face. He noticed the way you were hungrily looking at him, he’s also been doing it from time to time. He still finds you extremely attractive, and seeing you with your son makes you even more attractive. He wishes that things were different, he wishes to have never broken your heart because he’s convinced things would have been easier.

“Well, the skin-to-skin contact is important,” he replies. You roll your eyes, he’s such a tease. “But don’t worry, I’ll try to wear a shirt next time,” he winks at you.

There’s no doubt something is happening between you. The little spark is coming back and you’re simply letting it consume you both. None of you is trying to push the other off. It almost feels like nothing has ever happened.

“But if I do so, you’ll have to cover your chest every time you breastfeed,” he adds.

Right there and then, you understand what is going on and maybe because of the hormones being all over the place, you don’t feel like stopping him. He’s making you feel desired, and damn, right now, you desire him more than ever.

“And if I don’t want to?” you teasingly ask.

A smirk appears on his face. He gets closer to you, your eyes closing when you sense his warm breath against your skin. It instantly sends shivers down your spine.

“Then, I might do unholy things,” he whispers in your ear before biting your earlobe. “Unholy things that our son can’t see,” he adds.

His lips press a gentle kiss on your neck, right under your ear. Your arms wrap him, bringing his body closer to yours. His lips leave a trail of kisses from your neck to the corner of your lips. Your heartbeat increases while you breathe faster. His eyes meet yours. They are filled with lust, something you haven’t seen in a long time. Honestly, that simple gaze gets you wetter.

Now, you desperately crave him.

His lusty eyes understand it and in a blink of an eye, he presses his hungry lips against yours. Even though you’re both fully driven by desire, this kiss is soft and tender. It’s not bestial at all like it could have been. In fact, you’re actually convinced that if you rush it, it will destroy the magic behind this exact moment. His strong arms wrap tighter around you almost as if he’s scared to let you go.

His lips are so soft on yours, the tenderness of the kiss making your heart melt completely. You honestly missed being kissed by him because nobody compares to him. Your heart is pounding extremely hard in your chest while the butterflies in your lower stomach are making you feel completely alive. Your hands cup his face while you kiss him passionately.

If someone told you a year ago that you’d be sitting on his couch while kissing him intensely, you would have laughed so loud. And probably, you’d start crying in your bed because it would cause a lot of pain to picture kissing him again. And if anyone told you that you’d have a baby with him, you’d die instantly.

Slowly, Jungkook pushes you to lay on the couch. In a matter of seconds, your shirt is pulled out and his greedy lips find their way to your nipples. They pleasantly torture you, and you don’t hold back your moans. At this moment, you completely forget that you have a son sleeping not too far from you.

Your back arches, bringing your body closer to his mouth. Your baby daddy doesn’t spare you at all, he tortures you in a way that only he can do. Your hands are running through his hair, almost as if you’re trying to hold onto something. Now that you’ve become a mother, your breasts are super sensitive so this torture is driven crazier than it used to.

On top of that, it’s the first time you’ve been intimate with someone since your son’s birth. It’s also the first time another man other than your son is touching your breasts. This moment is making you feel like a woman again, something you had completely lost when you became a mother. For the past months, you’ve been first and foremost a mother, a desperate one but the woman part has been put aside. However, Jungkook is bringing back that side of you, and it makes you feel alive.

Slowly the nipple sucking turns into you getting naked. It turns into him thrusting into you like there’s no tomorrow. For hours, you make love, completely forgetting everything. You’re in your own bubble. A bubble you should probably never have created but this feels exquisitely good. Having Jungkook in between your legs burying his cock deep inside you is like being in heaven.

Your body has completely changed since Leo’s birth, and having sex with Jungkook helps you to explore what this new body sexually adores. But nothing compares to the feeling of his hand touching every part of you that has changed, and his lips too. However, what warms your heart is the way his eyes stare at your body. They glow so much, and it makes you feel desirable again.

For sure, the way you see your body shouldn’t be defined by the way a man looks at you, but it helps to embrace this new body even more. Yes, you’re thankful this body provided everything Leo needed, especially since you didn’t know he was there. Yes, you’re thankful you delivered him safely. Yes, you’re thankful it gives Leo everything he needs in his first months of life. But your body changed and it’s a body you have to discover all over again.

Your body isn’t just your home anymore, it’s Leo’s too.

Everything is different and everything feels different. This new body is more sensitive so having sex is a hundred times better than before. Sex feels even more intense. And god, let’s not start talking about doggy style. Orgasms are coming one after the other. Everything is overwhelming but in a good way.

Jungkook, on his side, finds you even prettier than before. Surely, it has to do with the fact that your body carried Leo for nine months and is now providing him with all that he needs. Having sex with you also feels more overwhelming for him. He’s been desperately holding back his orgasms to not come like an idiot after 3 seconds.

After having all that sex, you simply lay on the couch next to each other, heavily breathing. You’re simply staring at the ceiling in silence for a moment. Then, Jungkook grabs the baby monitor to take a look at your son.

“Even with all the noise we made, this kid slept,” he says with a heavy breath.

Your eyes glaze at the baby monitor, and a little smile appears on your face. Your baby daddy puts it back on the coffee table before grabbing a blanket to place it on both of your bodies. You offer him a little smile and you rest your head on his shoulder. This intense activity tired you out a lot. It’s best to try to sleep a bit before Leo wakes up.

Jungkook is standing at the entrance of the private school that Arya is attending. As surprising as it sounds, he took a paternity leave combined with the annual leaves he’s entitled to take, even if he’s the CEO of Jeon Industries. Being present as a father in his child’s first months of life always mattered more than anything else in the world. Those leaves surprised the entire world but the company can survive without him for a little while. He hired the best people so he trusts them.

Once all those leaves are over, he’ll run the company from home. Going back to work with a baby who cries a thousand times at night is quite hard, and he already looks like a zombie. Since he’ll work from home, he’ll choose when to work and when not. At the end of the day, he’s the big boss so he can do whatever suits him. But right now, his priorities are his children and you.

“Daddy,” Arya says while running in his direction.

A bright smile appears on his face. Lately, he’s been trying to adjust to this whole new dynamic. It’s hard trying to spend as much time as possible with Arya when Leo captures all the attention. At first, she was a bit jealous of her brother but slowly, she’s been accepting that she has one now. She’s been trying to help, she gives you the diaper when you’re changing Leo, and she speaks to him when he’s crying. She’s doing what she can and it’s adorable.

Jungkook places himself at her level to catch her. The days he has her are the days he’s the happiest because he’s surrounded by the people he loves the most. Even if he’s extremely tired, he’s extremely happy. Having a surprise child is absolutely not easy but slowly it’s getting easier.

“Princess,” he says when he catches her.

Nothing can compare to feeling his kids in his arms. Leo is still very small but when he holds him, he simply feels at peace, the same way it feels to hold Arya. But then, there’s you. Having you in his arms feels like being home. His heart is reassured whenever he holds you tight, and he always tries to provide you with the same feeling when you’re crying. In the past six months, he has seen you cry a thousand times and each time has been heartbreaking. Most of the time, he also ends up crying because you’re both completely overwhelmed by the situation. When it happens, you’re also the one holding him tightly.

Leo has brought you closer than ever.

However, it’s in a totally different way. You’ve become super close friends, and it kind of makes this situation easier to deal with. For sure, there’s a lot of pain from the past and it’s hard but you’re closer. What definitely changed your relationship is the sex. Since you had sex for the first time after your son’s birth, something deeply changed. After that time, you only made love one other time but you’ve been pretending like nothing ever happened. Because you both know that it’s mostly a physical need.

Jungkook would be lying if he said that he doesn’t think about it quite often. When he lays his eyes on you, he’s brought back to those two incredible moments, and he wishes he could repeat them. But there’s a limit, especially since you’ve been trying to figure your life out. He noticed how things changed between you and Yeonjun. He’s fully aware that it is because you slept together and you don’t know what to do anymore. However, he's 100% sure that it’s not even in your mind to get back with him.

“How’s your day going?” he asks his daughter.

The little girl starts ranting about her day at school while he holds her hand and walks with her to the car. Eunji left Arya’s belongings at his place earlier today. She’s been quite helpful since your son’s arrival, and it’s been more than appreciated. Any help received right now is more than welcome. Eunji understands that this is a very complicated situation and she’s been trying to adjust as well. Most of the time, Arya only spends the day here and sleeps at her mother’s so she isn’t woken up at night by Leo. This was an agreement the three of you made. Of course, there are days where she spends the night here but it doesn’t happen quite often. However, tonight, she’s going to sleep at her father’s place, and she’s very excited. The reason you all agreed is because it’s friday and tomorrow she doesn’t need to go to school.

Jungkook helps her to get inside the car, and as every day, she requests to listen to Part of Your World from the Little Mermaid, her favorite Disney movie. By now, you all know this song since you play it all the time. Her father doesn’t understand how she isn’t tired yet to listen to it on repeat. No doubt that he is tired of it! As they arrive home, Arya rushes to the living room to see her little brother. Luckily for her, you’re there, sitting on the couch and breastfeeding Leo.

A bright smile appears on your face when you see her. She quickly caresses her brother’s hair before pressing a gentle kiss on his head.

“Hi, baby brother,” she whispers. Her little eyes look up at you and a big smile appears on her face. “Hi, yn.”

“Hi, little monster,” you answer. “I’ll give you a kiss once Leo’s done eating.”

She nods and sits next to you. Your eyes move to Jungkook who’s putting down his daughter’s backpack. His eyes meet yours for a brief moment before quickly looking down at your breast. When you notice it, a little laugh leaves your lips while you shake your head. It’s funny the way he’s always mesmerized by your breasts. If there weren’t the kids, he would have probably said or done something.

After Leo’s eaten enough, you made sure he burped. Then, Arya asked if she could hold him, and of course, you helped her hold her little brother. She’s always adorable and it warms everybody’s heart that she takes her big sis role very seriously. You’re thankful your son has Arya as a sister. She definitely has the biggest and most wonderful heart in the world.

For dinner, you and Jungkook prepared lasagna much to Arya's delight. She mentioned a lot of times that it was absolutely good and she also spoke a lot about her friends because one of them is throwing a little party for their birthday. She sounded extremely excited which was cute.

Once both Arya and Leo are sleeping, there’s just you and Jungkook in the kitchen. He’s drinking wine while you’re drinking a beer without alcohol.

“We have to talk about what we’ve been doing,” you tell him.

For the past few days, it has been on your mind to talk with him about the two-night stands you had. If it happened, it’s for a reason and you also need to discuss it with him because you’re a bit lost. You’re falling in love with Yeonjun but there’s Jungkook and you’ve been sleeping together. It kind of makes you feel guilty although you’re not in a relationship with him.

Jungkook nods and takes a sip of wine.

“I know I wanted it and I don’t regret it at all but there’s Yeonjun,” you start saying but before you can add anything, Jungkook interrupts you.

“Listen, I’ve seen how confused you have been those past few days and I know it’s because of what we’ve been doing. What is going on is complicated, we suddenly had a son and we suddenly started living together. We share a history so for sure we’ll forever be attracted to each other in a way,” he says. “But don’t start pushing Yeonjun away because of me. He’s the right one for you.”

It hurts to say those words out loud but truth being told, it’s better you try something with Yeonjun than him. He’s scared to hurt you once again and he’d die if he ever does it again. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself because you’re the best thing that has ever happened to him. Being friends is the best solution for you.

“He’s been treating you better than I ever did so you should give him a chance. We’ve been pretending that nothing happened and it’s best we keep doing it. Don’t torture yourself any longer and just try. I’m sure you’ll be super happy and that’s the thing you deserve the most. I never was the right one for you but he has been the second he came into your life,” he finishes.

A tear runs down your face. This Jungkook in front of you is such a more mature version of him than the one that broke your heart over a year ago. This man is the one you have always wanted to see but now it’s too late. Your heart beats for Yeonjun. You were scared that having sex with your ex meant that you were falling for him all over again. However, now that he is saying those words, it makes it clear that it is just an illusion. You’re still falling in love with Yeonjun but you simply had a moment of weakness due to the complicated situation that you are in.

“And please don’t feel guilty, you didn’t cheat on him or anything. But I hope that all of this will help you to see things clearly,” he adds.

You stand up and hug your baby daddy. In the end, the birth of Leo helped him to get more mature, that’s what you think. But the truth is that you’re the reason behind his growth. Jungkook needed to be present for you, he needed to be your shoulder to rest on while you were trying to figure out how to become a mother. You simply needed him, and he had to grow to be what you needed the most. Jungkook had lost you and all he could do was to make sure you’d be happy. Even if that meant without him.

8 years later

Today is Leo’s 8th birthday.

A bright smile appears on your face when your eyes land on him. He’s running all over Jungkook’s living room with his friends. He’s such a big boy and you’re proud of the little man he has become.

“Mommy,” as those words are pronounced, you feel a little hand pushing your dress. You look down to see your second born, Levi.

“Yes, sweetie?” you ask before grabbing him to hold him in your arms.

Levi is the son you had with Yeonjun. He��s 4 years old and is a miniature of his father while Leo is more of a mix of you and Jungkook. So most of the time, people don’t believe them when they say they are brothers. However, that isn’t the case when it comes to Arya and Leo as they both resemble their father in a certain way.

“Can I have cake?” he asks.

“Not yet,” you answer. “You’ll have a piece after singing happy birthday to Leo, okay?” you tell him.

The little boy nods before asking you to let him go. Hyejoo, the mother of Taehoon, one of Leo’s friends, joins you. She has become a very good friend of yours and she has been very present in your life for the past year. It’s been almost a year since you and Yeonjun broke up, and let’s say that it hasn’t been easy at all. For a bit over a year, the relationship has started to deteriorate. At first, it was a bit due to the monotony but you both tried to find a solution. It worked but only for a short time.

Yeonjun lost his job, he started drinking instead of finding a new job. Your income was then the only one coming in. Obviously, it became hard to live with only one income and a drunk boyfriend. You tried to make him realize that he needed to move his ass but it only made everything worse. Trying to reason with an alcoholic is like talking to a wall. He got defensive and you were constantly fighting. In the midst of all that, you were trying to protect the kids but they could sense and see that everything was different.

One day, you vent to Jungkook with whom you became good friends. Since he’s literally one of the wealthiest men in the country, he offered to help you. You couldn’t refuse since you had to feed two little monsters but that made things even worse. Yeonjun suddenly became jealous of Jungkook. That was the last straw.

He never had any reason to be jealous of Jungkook. It was your ex, the romantic love between you was long gone and he is now a friend. But above anything else, he is Leo’s father. You never wanted any stupid tension between them since there are kids involved. The three of you always made everything work out for the kids and a simple job loss threw that all away.

Today things are still complicated with Yeonjun but the break-up was his wake-up call. From there, he started getting his shit together. Temporarily you agreed to let him live with you but he had to quickly find a solution which he did. All along, Jungkook was there as he’s been doing for the past 8 years. He has been your shoulder to lay on when you need it the most.

“How are you?” She asks.

“I’m fine,” you tell her. “Seeing my boys excited about this birthday party truly makes me happy.”

Seeing them happy is all that you need to be happy. Nothing else matters.

“But you know, this date always has a bittersweet taste,” you confess. “It was one of the hardest days of my life.”

Even though you love Leo with all your heart, it doesn’t change the fact that his birth was one of the most arduous days of your life. It will forever be like that, and every birthday will be a reminder of that day. A day you endured physical and emotional pain and a day you didn’t want him to come. When you look at him, being so happy to celebrate his birthday with his friends, it crushes your heart that you didn’t want him at first. But that’s the truth.

“Well, it’s more than understandable,” she says.

Your eyes move to Jungkook, who is speaking with some friends. He has changed a lot over the past 8 years. He has grown into a very mature man and it amazes you to think how different he is now. Nine years ago, he broke your heart. Now he’s the one amending it. He did a lot of work on himself, he faced all his demons and fought them. And he did it for himself, he didn’t use the stupid reason of ‘it’s for my kids’. He finally understood that he needed to take care of himself first.

In the midst of all that internal work, he found a girlfriend, Jihyo with whom he’s still with today. She’s a sweetheart and you love her. She’s definitely the one he needs. You’re so happy that he found her, he deserves his happy ending. A couple of weeks ago, she told you that she’s convinced that he’ll propose to her any time soon. Even though he’s your ex, you’d be glad to assist at his wedding. Jihyo and Jungkook have been together for 5 years which is a record for him.

“I know but it’s complicated to remember that day,” you add. “But seeing him this joyful today eases all the pain that was brought on that day.”

Jungkook joins the two of you, he greets you with a bright smile and the three of you talk about the kids. Hyejoo has 4 kids, the oldest is 10 years and she’s complaining that he’s started to not listen to her. She’s getting worried about how it will be during his teenage years and also soon after Taehoon will become a teenager.

Leo’s father explains to her how he has been dealing with Arya who’s almost 15 years old. It’s sometimes quite difficult, you’ve seen it with your own eyes but she’s still that adorable little girl that she was when she was younger. She’s just growing up, experiencing love, having her hormones all over the place, and having her first periods too. Compared to Jungkook at that age, she’s a saint. Plus, she adores taking care of Leo. She likes picking him up at school, preparing a little snack when they’re home, helping him to do his homework, and watching series and movies together. She also sometimes takes care of Levi whom she considers too as a younger brother.

At some point, Hyejoo leaves you and Jungkook alone. Both of you are still keeping an eye on the children running around everywhere.

“Jihyo isn’t coming today?” you ask.

Jungkook’s smile completely disappears and you instantly understand that something happened. You wouldn’t go so far as to say they broke up but by his face, it definitely looks like it.

“No,” he replies. “Not today nor any other day,” he adds.

It breaks your heart to hear that they aren’t together anymore. They were just right for each other but if it’s over, then there must be a good reason.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you gently ask.

“Not now,” he says while shaking his head. “Let’s enjoy this little party and we'll maybe talk about it afterward. This day is already tough for us two and I prefer we celebrate our son.”

You nod, understanding that he doesn’t want to talk about it now. A breakup is never easy, you’ve experienced some and it was always hard. The last one being quite rough, especially since Levi was involved. You wished things were different but it is what it is. At the end of the day, what truly matters is that you and your children are happy and living in a healthy environment.

The rest of the afternoon goes well, Leo being super happy to celebrate his birthday with all his friends and family. Yours and Jungkook’s parents are also present, they wouldn’t miss their grandson’s birthday. They spoil him quite a lot but it’s normal, that’s what grandparents are supposed to do. This afternoon is a success and it warms your heart.

Exceptionally, Leo and Levi are sleeping at Jungkook’s place and right after the party, they crash down in Leo’s bedroom. Of course, Leo’s father hired a cleaning company to clean his place. That’s the perk of being wealthy.

Once everybody is sleeping, you and Jungkook sit on the couch with a glass of wine. This has become a tradition for the past eight years. It always feels good and you also place a picture you took of the three of you in a photo album. With it, you can see how much your little man has changed over the years.

“He has grown so much,” Jungkook says as you watch all the pictures.

“Indeed, and he’s such a gentle and sweet boy,” you add.

Jungkook quickly looks at you and takes a sip of wine. Things have changed a lot for the past 8 years but he’s delighted with how things have turned. Well, he’s just sad that in the end, neither your relationship with Yeonjun nor his with Jihyo worked out. He still remembers vividly how happy he was when you were both in healthy relationships after all the chaos that yours was. But it looks like you'll have to start all over again from scratch.

“We did a very good job despite how everything started,” he says.

“I still remember the day he was born like it was yesterday,” you reveal.

It’s also the case for him. It was very complicated to become parents under those circumstances but he’s so proud of all the work you did. Once you live separately, you try even harder to make everything work out for Leo. That meant having difficult conversations and a lot of disagreements but in the end, it was worth it.

“And it broke my heart seeing you in so much pain,” he confesses. “It wasn’t just physical, it was emotional as well and the only other time I had seen you like that was when your sister passed away. Right there, I knew that you needed me more than ever and that I couldn’t mess up again.”

It’s the first time Jungkook is telling you that. You weren’t aware he felt like that but he was there for you, he was your savior. There’s no doubt that without him you wouldn’t have survived the first year. It was intense on a lot of levels but you learned a lot from that period of your life.

“You never told me that,” you tell him.

“I never saw the point of saying it,” he says with a little laugh. “For me, it was obvious. I already had a daughter, I kind of knew what to do. It was a shock for me and it took me some time to adjust to that new reality but you were completely overwhelmed by the entire situation. It was normal to be your shoulder to rely on,” he takes another sip of wine.

“Without you, I wouldn’t be here today,” you admit.

It warms his heart to hear those words. Of course, he already knew that because he saw how much you blossomed afterwards but it’s always nice to hear it from you.

“Well, I gave up on you a bit after your sister passed away. You pushed me back but I should maybe have stayed instead of leaving. But when you were giving birth to Leo, he was also my son, and abandoning you would have been very cowardly. I also made sure I would forever be there even if you pushed me back,” he professes.

“I’m very thankful you were there even when I was exploding,” you rest your head on his shoulder.

This year, the conversion is quite deep. Usually, you simply talk about the funny events of the year and laugh a lot with a glass of wine. No boyfriends and girlfriends are allowed, it has always been a moment between you and Jungkook. Those moments have contributed a lot to reinforce your friendship.

For a moment, you stay like that in silence. This year is different. Neither of you has a reason to end this moment. You don’t have Yeonjun waiting for you at home, and Jihyo isn’t waiting for Jungkook upstairs. This year there’s just the two of you. And it feels nice because you can truly savor this moment.

“I don’t know if I ever told you that I wanted to have a child with Jihyo,” he starts saying. You shake your head. “We were very good together and I wanted to build a family with her but it all fell down. That’s what really hurts me today,” it breaks your heart to hear that. “She was expecting a proposal but I never did it, and to be honest, I don’t even know why. I loved her and wanted it all with her but I was unable to get married to her. We had a fight a month ago and she brought up that she’s kind of waiting for a proposal that never comes. I confessed to her that I can’t for unknown reasons and she got even angrier because she knew why.”

You frown and stand up straight to glance at him. You’re a bit confused about how Jihyo would know why he wasn’t able to see himself getting married to her.

“It was because of you,” he says with a little voice, his eyes staring deeply at you. “She told me that since the beginning of our relationship, she knew that I was still in love with you in a certain way. It was obvious for her but with time, she saw me falling in love with her so she believed things changed. However, she realized she was wrong when the proposal was never coming. She realized right there that I’d never marry her because subconsciously, I was still waiting for you.”

Your heart is beating like crazy in your chest, and you feel your cheeks getting on fire. In his jealous phase, Yeonjun told you more or less the same thing but you thought that he was so wrong. Although, a tiny part of yourself was convinced that he was right. You thought that he was overreacting because Jungkook is Leo’s father and you would never accept Yeonjun attacking him. A good relationship between the three of you was deeply important for you because of Leo and Levi. However, maybe you were wrong. Truth being told, you broke up with him because you were still in love with Jungkook.

“And now that you were single, there was absolutely no point in me being with someone else,” he adds.

Jungkook gets a little closer to you and places his hand on your tight.

“She broke up with me and it hurt a lot, especially since I was convinced that it was ridiculous but she didn’t change her mind at all,” he continues. “I really thought she was delirious but then, I started to deeply think about it. I analyzed how I was acting around you, and how I was feeling when you were there. I was quick to realize that she was right, I was subconsciously longing for you.”

His fingers caress your tight. Your entire body is reacting to his words, this is a heartfelt love confession, and damn, it warms your heart in a way that you can’t even express.

“I’ve been waiting for you for eight years, yn,” he confesses out loud. “And I think I might wait for you my entire life because, since the beginning, it was you. It has always been you and nobody else. I just was an idiot to have let you go twice but maybe, it wasn’t the right time for us. I know now that if you ever give me another chance, it would be the perfect time.”

You place your hand on top of his, your eyes quickly glance at them before you look up at him. Jungkook is glowing right now in a way that you’ve never seen before. You fell for this man 20 years ago and since then, you never fell out of love for him. Since the beginning, he was the one holding your heart. As he said, maybe it was never the right time and you both needed to grow up before the perfect time would come.

You know now that today is the perfect time.

The past 8 years, you built a solid friendship, you faced the hardest obstacles together and you both worked a lot on yourselves. Today, you’re both different people, and these versions of yourselves can finally fully love each other.

“I feel deep inside of me that now is the perfect time,” you admit.

And without any hesitation, Jungkook kisses you passionately. This kiss feels completely different, it feels like you’re kissing for the first time ever. Maybe it’s because you’re different now and you need to discover each other all over again. The kiss is gentle, not rushed and you can taste the wine on his lips. Being kissed by Jungkook brings you to heaven, and you always loved being kissed by him. Slowly, you fall on your back on the couch, your hands running through his hair while you never stop kissing.

For a moment, he breaks the kiss to look at you and rub his nose against yours. Soon enough, he presses his lips against yours for a languorous and fervent kiss. This could go a lot further but you both know that if you want to make it work this time, it’s not a good idea to have sex now. Sex is never the solution. So, Jungkook ends up laying next to you on the couch, a bright smile displayed on his face.

“We always finish doing something on this couch,” he playfully says. “There must be something on this couch.”

You turn your head to look at him.

“Maybe someone put a spell on it,” you answer.

“Well, you put a spell on me, that’s for sure!” He tells you before kissing you once more.

He’ll never grow tired of kissing you. Your lips are his favorite thing in the entire world, he could spend hours kissing you.

The past few weeks, you’ve been flirting with Jungkook and going on several dates. It feels like things are falling into place, you’ve been talking a lot, enjoying each other's presence and simply being in love. You’ve never been this happy in your entire life, you adore being around him. This time around feels super easy. Of course, you haven’t said anything to your children because you don’t want to give them false hopes although Arya has been suspicious of what’s going on. She already noticed something had been happening when you were leaving Leo at his place one day and she raised the question. However, you denied it.

Also for the past weeks, you haven’t had sex at all. To be honest, it surprises you a lot because you’re both very attracted to the other but you’ve been putting that aside to build a healthy relationship. You both desire to make it work this time so there are a lot of efforts to be done on both sides. Maybe more on his side than yours but still, this is something you work on together. You’re two in a relationship and it takes two to make it work.

Today is Valentine’s Day and you’re going on a date together. Arya has nicely accepted to take care of her brother, and Levi is staying with his father. Jungkook is taking you out to a fancy restaurant, and you’re honestly super excited to spend this evening with him. You put on your prettier red dress and he’s wearing a very fancy black suit. He looks absolutely hot in that suit, you always loved watching him in a classy suit.

The restaurant is obviously full but people aren’t talking too loudly. There’s a band playing some romantic songs, and it definitely creates a lovey-dovey atmosphere. You’re absolutely delighted to be celebrating this Valentine’s Day with Jungkook.

“Before we take this relationship to the next step, I really want to apologize for how I acted the last time we were trying to be together,” Jungkook starts saying and you nod. “At that time, I had spent 10 years waiting for you to come back and I never truly thought about the eventuality of it really happening. So, when it happened, it was overwhelming because I simply didn’t know what to do. But it’s also because I had never done the proper work on myself before letting you back in my life.”

This conversation is one that you have been waiting for years. You never forced it because you always judged that it had to come from him and not from you. Forcing something will always have the opposite result but you’re glad that it’s happening now.

“Well, now looking back, I can confirm that it’s true,” you jokingly reply.

“Back then, it seemed a lot easier to push you back. Having you back was so overwhelming that I wasn’t even able to properly do my job. It was never your fault, it was mine. I was immature and a total jerk. I hid behind the excuse of wanting to put my daughter as a priority when I should have made you my priority. I hurt you a lot and I’m very aware of it so I made sure to never do it again.”

You grab his hand on the table to squish it. This man right here seems to always find a way to melt your heart.

“Your happiness is the only thing that always mattered to me, and I made it my priority. Even when we were friends, I did it. That’s also the reason why I convinced you to try with Yeonjun, I saw the way he was making you happy. Also back then, I would have never been able to give you that happiness otherwise I would have fought for you. And I also didn’t deserve you, I guess I never did,” he confesses.

The last sentence definitely breaks your heart. You want to contradict him but for sure, back then, he didn’t deserve your love because when you gave it to him, he just threw it away. But today, things are different. He has shown you in many ways that he has changed and that he deserves to be loved. That he deserves your love.

“Don’t say that, Jk,” you tell him with evident sadness in your voice.

“It’s the truth, yn,” he replies. “You’re such a strong and wonderful woman, you went through so much and you’re still standing tall with a big smile on your face. I never faced half of the things you did but still managed to act like a dick. I’m proud that you’re Leo’s mom so he can have you as an example and just be wonderful like you which he’s already proving to be,” a smile appears on his face while thinking about his son. “Even if I hurt you, I would do everything the same way because I got to be Arya’s and Leo’s father and I got to grow with you by my side.”

Jungkook changed a lot, that’s sure. You’re not sure he would have said that 8 years ago but things are different now. Leo really changed everything but in a good way. Without him, you’re not sure you’ll be sitting in this chair today. Maybe you’d still hate Jungkook but you’re sure of one thing. You would have found your way to him. You never truly believed in things such as destiny but with Jungkook, it’s different. You always knew that you were destined to be together.

Jungkook could be saying all those words in vain without meaning them but the way he’s been acting lately ⏤ and also since Leo’s birth ⏤ proves that everything he’s saying now is the truth. You believe him.

“If you were saying this right after you had hurt me, I would have never believed you,” you start saying. “But it comes years after and I got to witness your growth. However, it doesn’t mean that it’s going to be easy. Like you said, you hurt me and ever since, I struggle a bit to trust you. I feel like at any moment you could do it all over again,” Jungkook nods. “We’ve been having a very good time and I really want to keep doing it because I always loved you as well.”

A smile appears on his face.

“I promise this time around you won’t regret it,” he whispers.

The rest of the time in the restaurant goes well. You laugh a lot, speak a lot, drink a lot, and eat a lot. This is a wonderful moment. One that you won’t easily forget. Afterward, you both decide to spend a little extra moment alone in your apartment. It won’t last long because you'd rather not leave Arya alone with Leo for too long. Well, honestly speaking, you simply want to have sex because the physical attraction together with alcohol isn’t quite a good combination. You just can’t resist the other like you’ve been doing for the past weeks.

As soon as you pass the entrance door, you jump on each other’s lips in a very fervent and needy kiss. Jungkook’s hands lift up your dress, definitely not wanting to waste any second. His fingers directly find their way to your panties, and the mere contact of his cold fingers with your warm pussy sends shivers through your entire body. When you sense him, you realize that you’ve been desperately craving this moment for a while already.

His fingers rub against your pussy, causing a trail of moans to leave your mouth. Your moans are a melody that he’s been longing for a while. Just the sound of it makes him grow harder in his pants. In the rush of desperately desiring to have sex and not leave the kids alone for a long time, you walk backward until reaching the dining table and you fall on it. You’re now laying on top of the table. Jungkook removes your panties and simply pushes down his pants and underwear. By reflex, you open your legs and Jungkook instantly places himself in between.

None of you speaks during this moment, there’s just the sound of your heavy breathing echoing in your apartment. He doesn't need much prompting to start thrusting into you. The two of you moan like crazy, you definitely don’t hold back since you’re alone. There’s absolutely no need to withhold.

Your baby daddy thrusts deep inside you and it causes the table beneath you to squeak. But to be honest, you couldn’t care less about that. You’re simply enjoying this extraordinary moment together, and it’s wonderful to feel him deep inside you. Everything feels wonderful with him. Quickly, an intense orgasm hits you, provoking your entire body to shake. The man you love senses it, a greedy smile appears on his face but he keeps going. When you have an orgasm, it simply brings him closer to the edge.

However, the orgasm + the pleasure clearly makes you orgasm even more. It’s orgasm over orgasm, you can’t stop yourself. You’re overwhelmed with pleasure and you don’t ever want to stop it. You just let it go. The feeling of it makes him desire to completely explode inside you but for sure, he needs to ask you first if you’re okay with it.

“Can I come inside you?” Jungkook asks.

You can barely say ‘yes’ but you still manage to say it. In the moment, you don’t care where he comes, it’s the least of your problems. And with your simple answer, Jungkook lets it go. His orgasm hit him violently, this little quickie was what he badly wanted.

For a brief moment, you stay like that. He goes to the kitchen to grab tissues for the two of you so you can clean yourselves from all the juices that come out from your bodies.

“That was intense,” you say while cleaning yourself.

“More than intense,” he replies, a little laugh escaping his lips.

“We should do that more often,” you suggest.

Jungkook shakes his head while still laughing. For sure, he won’t be the one complaining about having more often sex with you.

“Maybe I should head home so Arya doesn’t go too crazy with Leo,” Jungkook adds.

Obviously, you won’t go with him. Things need to be done slowly and even if Arya has some suspicions, it’s best she doesn’t know yet. This time around, there are three children involved and there is no space for acting like idiots. This brings a lot of happiness to you but they should know when you’re both confident that it will work.

“Yes, you should,” you reply with a little smile.

You stand up and rearrange your dress before walking in his direction to be closer to him. He’s zipping his pants and looks up when he notices your presence. His arms wrap around your waist, bringing you closer. He presses a gentle kiss on your forehead, your eyes automatically closing for a brief moment.

“This night was wonderful, yn,” he whispers. “I adored the moment spent at the restaurant, and I want nothing more than to repeat it.”

You press a soft kiss on his lips.

“There’s nothing more I’d love to do,” you answer.

A smile of true happiness appears on both of your faces. This night will for sure be a moment you’ll forever cherish. None of you will ever forget because this night is the night where things finally took the right turn. After this night, your relationship kept blossoming and turned into the most wonderful thing in the world. Of course, when you told the news to your children months later, they were extremely ecstatic. Seeing them that way made you realize that this was all you ever needed.

It took you 20 years to find the right time but eventually, you found it. You were the right person for each other but it was never the right time. Timing is such a complex concept, however, it was time that allowed you to grow and fall in love all over again. You were each other's right person but it was too soon. You needed to experience all the things you lived before being brought back again. Leo’s 8th anniversary was the moment you both realized that it was finally the perfect time for you. Since the beginning, it was simply a matter of timing.

#bts #bts imagine #bts imagines #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook imagine #bts angst #jungkook angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #perfect time #timing series #spideyjimin

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howtofightwrite · 7 months ago

Note

Is it possible to punch someone in the face in a way that causes visible damage, but doesn't impair them much in the long term?

It's extremely possible.

Your face is, mostly, a lot of soft tissue positioned directly over bone. This means that blows to the face, even relatively minor ones, are likely to produce disproportionately nasty looking injuries, without inflicting any meaningful impairment.

The first two are bleeding. Either from splitting the skin open, or via bruising. When there is bruising, there's also going to be some swelling (because there's relatively few places for the blood to go), so the victim has extremely visible injuries, which will be painful, but are otherwise mostly cosmetic.

Of course, bleeding from the face will look incredibly bad, whether that's from the nose, a split lip, or from simply from the skin tearing during the punch, but, again, that's going to be mostly cosmetic.

Cuts in the mouth can be a bit worse, but again, this can result in symptoms that look much worse than they are. Normally, if you're coughing up blood, that's an extremely bad situation, however, if someone has punched you in the nose and started a bleed running back down your throat, or if you've bitten your tongue or cheek, you may be literally spitting up blood, without being in serious peril.

Cuts to the cheeks and lips can also be caused by your foe driving the soft tissue into your teeth. This can also result in injuries that have difficulty clotting. The actual blood loss isn't serious, but it can be annoying if you've gotten a gashed lip that refuses to stop leaking blood for hours. (I'm speaking from personal experience here.)

A broken nose is a bit more serious. Not because they're particularly dangerous, but because it's likely to permanently alter the angle of your nose. This will also result in a lot of blood making the injury look worse than it actually is. Again, you're not going to lose a meaningful amount of blood, but it'll look exceptionally bad.

While it's less likely to occur with a punch, cuts to the forehead, even relatively solid gashes, are another cases where it will look far worse than the injury is. Your forehead is one of the most heavily armored portions of your body, and cuts there are likely to cause a lot of visible bleeding, without resulting in a meaningful loss of blood. If your body works the way it's supposed to, bleeding from the forehead should get into your eyebrows and flow around your eye, without obscuring your vision. In practice, you absolutely can get blood in your eyes, depending on your facial structure. I can't really speak to that experience, though I'd be inclined to say it's probably not especially pleasant.

Now, a lot of facial injuries hurt. Your face has a lot of nerve endings, and those are quite happy to report to your brain, when something's just caused it harm. This is especially true of your lips and tongue, as you use those organs extensively to evaluate the safety of the food you consume (even if you don't think about it.) (Chewing off a portion of my own lip to get the bleeding to stop still ranks as one of the most unpleasant bits of field care I've every experienced, and I strongly recommend not seeking out that experience.) So, this isn't without any impairment whatsoever, but in general, these aren't going to be life altering injuries, or even wounds that require weeks to fully recover from. Facial injuries are singularly unpleasant, but they are rarely serious. (Unless we're talking about damage to the eyes, or broken bones. Both of which are unlikely outcomes from punches.)

In a somewhat perverse way, blows to the face is ideal for inflicting injuries that look far worse than they actually are.

-Starke

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#writing reference #writing advice #writing tips #how to fight write #starke answers

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stxrvel · 6 months ago

Text

injustice (3)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! a lot of curse words, a lot of self-deprecation and low self esteem. no proofread. this is nawt silly writing, we're diving right into the aNgSt. jumpscare? iykyk a/n. hi guys! this was a rollercoaster for me to write, but i hope it doesn't come as harsh as i think it is. pls let me know what you think in the comments!! see you next week!!

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You had gone through a scenario like that in your head several times. A variety of moments, conversations and looks that always ended in the same unpleasant, inevitable and demoralizing way: you were forgotten by the people you loved most in the world. Only when you reached 18 would you realize how heartbreaking the dull thud of the silence of indifference was, how sharp and icy the loneliness was, how it penetrated and paralyzed your bones; but at that time, at 16, you could still convince yourself that all those things were only in your head and would always be there.

“Now that you're the last to go, you guys are much more likely to forget about me.”

“Of course not! In fact, as soon as I start earning money I'll save up to take you with us.”

Jungkook shook his head, his narrowed eyes judging you as if having insecurities was a sin. You believed his words at that moment, because being the last one still with you, 'cause you were going to graduate from school in the same year, it was the only thing you could do. Hold on to the idea that you really weren't going to be forgotten, because the mere conception of a future without your best friends was inconceivable.

“Jimin-hyung said he was going to try to call more often,” your friend went on, his eyes fixed on the bass on his lap and his important task of leaving it neat before returning it to its holy post in the school's music room. “I haven't talked to them in about three days.”

Jimin and Taehyung had left just a couple of months ago, but thanks to the opportunities opened to them with their incredible willingness, discipline and some string twitching on Namjoon's part, they had managed to get into a great academy to train and fulfill their dreams.

That also brought with it, as irreversible side effects, that your communication with them was drastically reduced. You had to constantly remind yourself and Jungkook that it was out of their control. With their future at stake, there was something for which they had to exert extreme effort and for which to sacrifice some other things.

“It's normal that they don't have as much time as they used to, Kookie.” You lowered your head, noticing the way his hands delicately handled the instrument on his legs. Since Jimin and Taehyung had left there was no time of day when you could tear yourself away from Jungkook, which is why you accompanied him to his extracurricular music lessons when you really should have been studying for the college entrance exam. “Life after school gets really hectic.”

“I've heard that college life is quieter.” Jungkook twisted his lips, wiping between the strings and his fingerprints left on the bass every time he moved it back and forth to clean it. It was an almost irresistible cycle.

“The only one at college right now is Seokjin and even about him we haven't heard much.” You leaned back against the piano, noticing Jungkook's movements pause for a moment as he surely reminisced about the few times he had been able to talk to Jin that month.

It had been two years since Seokjin had graduated and traveled all the way to the capital to study medicine. Needless to say, it was more than clear that communication with Jin would be almost nil from then on, but Jungkook always used to pout about it.

“It's just that Jin-hyung also chose a rather demanding career.” Jungkook twisted his lips, as if suppressing Jin in his head, waving the microfiber towel over the edges of the bass.

“And the others are trying too hard to carve their way through. It can be as complicated as going out to look for a job right after graduating.”

Jungkook nodded, admiring his cleaning job with a frown. He looked so focused that it caught you by surprise when he spoke again.

“You already know if you're going to college, noona? We're graduating this year.”

You blinked once, twice, three times. His nonchalant self went back to waving the towel over nonexistent smudges as you breathed in and decided not to go that route. “Will you?”

Jungkook raised his head, pausing his movements for a moment to try to analyze your gaze. With a sigh, he let out your poorly disguised way of shifting the focus of the conversation to get up and hang the instrument, glowing, on the wall of the music room.

“I don't know yet… Namjoon-hyung says he can help me.”

“Isn't it your dream, why do you doubt it?”

“I'm not sure, noona. What if I don't measure up? What if I fail?”

When your friend turned away, the mirror to his soul showed his vulnerability dancing on the edge of his eyelids. His distrust constricted your heart, a hand closing around your throat at the inner conflicts you knew Jungkook used to have and in the face of which you often couldn't do anything about because he didn't usually share such things.

“Then you try again.”

“Noona…” Jungkook wanted to grumble, it was obvious from the way his eyes moved to the ceiling, his head cocking as if he was about to give you a big life lesson on why you can't survive on motivational phrases.

But Jungkook was a softie about such things, even if he tried to hide it.

“Jungkook, you are literally a golden promise. No process is ever easy, especially in the industry you want to get into, but don't think for a second that you're going to outgrow it. You're one of the most capable people I've ever met.”

Your friend stopped his steps, when after hanging up the bass he was returning to your post in front of you, raising his head as if caught committing a prank. But the vulnerability in his eyes remained, and by the way they shone in the dim light of the room, still blinking to try to contain the emotion, you knew your words had tugged at just that thorn in his heart you were trying to pull out.

“Thank you, noona.”

“I'm just telling the truth.” You lifted a shoulder, shaking your head nonchalantly like it was no big deal, and Jungkook just let out an amused chuckle.

“You do know we'd never forget about you, right? How could we?”

“How could we?”

Yuna shook her head, frowning at her phone, oblivious to the way you cringed at her choice of words.

“She's bringing celebrities into the store and she want us to leave? Don't we work so well that we always take the top employee of the month spot even though it should only be held by one person? Don't we deserve that gift?”

You watched her, marveling at how after just a few seconds so many emotions could build up into an overwhelming knot in your chest. The old notes of an old piano played in the back of your head, bringing to the surface memories of when life was easier; when you thought you had it all and nothing would ever be better than that; when you thought you were enough.

“So what do you plan to do about it?” you blinked, focusing on the notation of bills in your notebook with an invisible hand squeezing your heart.

There was no use thinking about such things after so long.

Yuna pursed her lips, her expression serious and forceful. “I think we should have a sit-in.”

“We should? That sounds like more than one person.”

“Do you disagree with me?”

“I'm happy with going home early, especially on a Friday, you know?”

“y/n,” Yuna came up to your face over the cash register display case, her forearms resting on the glass and her eyes so bright with determination you were sure her head could light the whole store on fire the way she was scheming and scheming, running around like her life depended on it, “we could be close to meeting the seven gods of Olympus, and you think the best thing to do is go home?”

“Just in case you forgot, I have a business to run now.” You reminded her, moving to poke her with your middle finger all over her forehead and push her away from the cash register now that a new customer had come in.

“What business should a business matter when you could meet the reason for existence itself?”

Yuna dropped onto the display case, her body sliding like jelly until only her head was left on the glass. You and the new customer watched her, her arms limp at her sides and her gaze lost. A lone tear running down the bridge of her nose.

“God, you're so dramatic.”

“Does that mean yes?” Her head snapped up like a spring, a big smile scaring the soul out of the customer who ducked behind your friend to run for their order.

“No and stop acting like that, you're going to scare away customers.”

Yuna whined, her exaggerated tantrum leading you to wiggle your feet all the way to the cellar.

“I'm offering you the holy grail, and this is how you pay me?”

The sound of her feet shuffling behind you kept your head sane. Even though his insinuations were baseless, your heart was pounding so hard you felt your ribs throbbing through your muscles and skin.

Your boss had written to Yuna that you two could leave the store early today because she had a private meeting to attend. She asked them to leave everything to Patrick, including clearing the store of customers and not to worry about paying for the shift, because there would be no discount at the end of the month. Yuna was faithfully and blindly convinced that your boss really wanted you to stay, because she spent almost ten minutes with her eyes glued to the screen almost without blinking, watching the 'typing…' appear and disappear under your boss's contact name. 'I'm sure she's debating how much confidence she has in us…', she said as her red eyes missed no detail of that important chat and that primordial moment, ending in an offended 'none!' when her last message came through.

In the same way, Yuna convinced herself that the meeting that would take place in the same place where your feet were planted was going to be attended by the seven entertainment kings of the country. The unmentionables, for all practical purposes. Where had she come to that conclusion? There was no foundation. Had your boss given any hints? None. Yuna had her head in the clouds believing she could meet her idols if she insisted a little longer.

“Would you really prefer to stand your friend up to meet seven men you don't even know for sure will show up here?”

“Well…if you put it that way it sounds like I'm doing something wrong.”

“Mmm, you just figured that out?”

Yuna dropped her shoulders as you took off your apron. Her tactics weren't going to work and it was time to give up. She half-heartedly opened her locker and stood looking at you with puppy dog eyes. You felt as guilty as if you had stepped on her tail by accident.

“Look, if I'm being honest, I doubt gigantically that Sol will tell you that you can stay if you ask her.”

“Not even for everything we've been through together?”

“She's still our boss, Yuna.”

Your friend mimicked your actions with a slower speed, her emotion draining away little by little. When her head cocked to the side, halfway through taking off her apron, you only sighed.

“The worst that can happen is I get fired, right?”

You weren't surprised that she was nevertheless willing to cross that line.

“That doesn't sound like much to you?”

“I can always write her a 'ha, ha, just joking' afterwards and get out of harm's way.”

You didn't contain the irresistible urge to roll your eyes and Yuna took that as her own signal or green light. Next thing you knew she was pulling out her phone and typing animatedly on the screen.

“I really don't think you should do that.”

“I have to try! Can I call myself a good fan if I don't do even the impossible?”

“You don't even know if they'll come.”

“I have a hunch.”

With her hand over her heart, Yuna sent the message and you feared for her life. While Sol was not at all close to the idea and conceptualization of a crazy and ruthlessly demanding boss, she did draw the line at several specific situations that they had both learned to respect. One of those was, of course, private meetings at her place. You and Yuna had set up the place countless times for Sol to sit quietly and chat with her most famous acquaintances, because her office was too formal to deal with them there, but her own home was extremely informal for the same purpose. The cafeteria served as a middle ground, the perfect place to be comfortable when talking business.

“Patrick is coming.” Yuna spoke again and by the way her eyes didn't leave the screen you could tell Sol hadn't responded yet.

“I wish you the best of luck, Yuna.”

“Thank you! Coming from you it's a blessing, indeed.”

“And why's that?”

You finally stood up, closing your locker with your strap bag over your right shoulder. You were ready to leave while your friend was still biting her index fingernail waiting for an almost impossible and inconceivable message from her boss.

“What else can I expect from the writer who blew up overnight and is soon going to be one of the New York Times bestsellers and famous worldwide?”

“Ah,” you turned your head, unable to contain inwardly the way a warmth settled in your chest; you still had a hard time accepting how things had turned out, but as long as you couldn't control the influx of orders that had to take a back seat, “smooth.”

Yuna smiled and when her eyes met yours you swore she was about to tell you one more time how proud she was of you, but her phone vibrated in her hands and the last thing you saw her eyes widen exaggeratedly before her scream shook the foundations of the store and almost the entire city.

“SHE SAID YES!!!!”

Arriving home unleashed immeasurable chaos.

As soon as you opened the front door, a river of books fell like dominoes, with your father's groans and your mother's screams in the background, the sound of your work echoing in your head like lightning as stomping echoed through the house.

“Seojun, I told you to be careful walking…!”The angry expression on your mother's face disappeared the moment she recognized your face, her features softening as she knew it was her daughter. “Honey. What are you doing here so early?”

“Is that y/n?” your dad's exclamation rang out from the kitchen.

“Yes!” your mom yelled back.

The welcome was nice, but things only got more and more tedious from then on. On the one hand, you had your father telling you about accounts, numbers and multiplications of how much you had to take out of your pocket to pay for the prints, how much you would make if you sold all the books you had printed and how much you would get back, and on the other hand you had your mother telling you about the countless publishers who had written to your dm's seeking to sponsor the sale of your books, taking advantage of the boom that had been generated by the phenomenon that was Kim Taehyung.

Seojun, who had decided to move back home for the weekend to help with whatever was needed, was telling you that they had had to hire five different deliverymen -three of them trucks- to be able to deliver as many orders a day as possible, while vehemently hitting your father's forearm to remind him to include that in the accounts.

Your father was in charge of everything related to money, your mother of the direct communication with customers and Seojun of the orders; everything was done by them, with Yuna's help when she was not working, with the excuse that after so many years you just had to sit down and enjoy the fruit of your sowing without any worries.

But at that moment, when they had just let go and thrown all their worries at your feet, they stared at you expectantly.

"We need a loan."

Your mother jumped in her chair. "That's what I said!"

"That's not necessary." Your father shook his head, as he surely would have done when your mother suggested the idea judging by the expression that had planted itself on her face. "Take a loan from my wallet, but don't do business with those bankers. They'll gouge your eyes out with interest."

"Or take a publisher's offer. They'll take care of all this." Seojun pointed out, his long black hair brushing his eyebrows even though he shook it nonchalantly so he could get a good look at the three of them.

"Publishers can be freeloaders too." Your mother counter-argued, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh, yeah? How many publishers have you signed on with to assert that?"

"Wow, careful with that tone, Mr. Lawyer." Your father pointed at your brother, while your mother only raised an eyebrow at him in response. Seojun sank into the chair, barely dragging an apology through his teeth.

"It's not a bad idea either, Dad."

His brown eyes returned to meet your gaze and you noticed the hesitation in them.

"Well, ultimately, it's your decision, honey."

Your mother squeezed your shoulder.

"I say we should listen to the lawyer."

"Hey!" Seojun frowned, straightening up on the chair. "Don't put such a big responsibility on me!"

Your father snorted. "But then weren't you comfortable a while ago giving orders and saying that I don't know what thing you had already seen it in class and that's why you knew what we had to do?"

"Dad…" Seojun elongated.

"Are you ready for such a position or not, Seojun? Tell me to start looking for another lawyer."

Your mother barely contained her laughter, only because of the offended sideways glance her own son sent her way. Laughter blossomed in your chest, too, like a big breath of fresh air in a field of flowers. You didn't know you needed that moment so badly until the tension disappeared from your shoulders as you laughed with your parents and your brother grumbled with his arms crossed.

A new batch of orders just went out - thank you so much for your purchases!

You looked at the story your mom had uploaded to Instagram in the solitude of your bedroom. The rest of the day was spent strategizing and planning marketing ideas that would likely lead you to ruin. In a defeated silence, you admitted that Yuna was really needed.

You had texted your friend a while ago, as the sunset was beginning to paint the sky with colors, but she still hadn't even checked her phone. Her last connection was a few minutes after you left at noon. You decided not to insist, even though you were a little curious about who had finally shown up at the store.

The best thing about that busy rest of the afternoon was that you'd been able to keep yourself busy enough to completely ignore the way you'd been whipped up by a few memories that morning in Yuna's company. A simple question had caused all that. And of course, with a heart as weak as a chick's and willpower almost non-existent, you let yourself be pulled right in that moment of loneliness into the well of memories.

“Jungkookie?”

Your voice pierced the silence and a shiver ran through your body as the darkness greeted you back. A few minutes passed after you plunged into the completely darkened room, walking tentatively and slowly inside, you heard a movement just outside the door you had just entered.

“Noona…”

You couldn't see him, but you didn't need to. The sobs that filled the room were enough to be able to guide you through that darkness, as indistinguishable as coal, and wrap your arms around his hunched figure on the floor beside the door.

The house was alone and as dark as that room the last night Jungkook would be there. Passing through the empty corridors of his house was a torment, but you could only imagine how your friend would feel in his place, unable to stop time as it slipped through his fingers.

Several times he had already told you that he didn't want to leave. You didn't think he meant it.

“They're waiting for you downstairs.”

“I know. I don't want to go, noona.” Jungkook moved his arms to wrap around your waist in a desperate grip, his erratic breathing against your neck breaking your heart. “I want to stay. It doesn't matter if I never become an idol. That's not important.”

“Jungkook…”

“I don't want to leave you…”

His halting voice was barely understandable, trying to be muffled by the jacket you were wearing that night when you went to see him off and didn't find him in the car with his parents. The heater seemed not to be a worthy opponent for that cold night.

“Jungkook, you're not going to leave me. We'll keep in touch. Why do you worry so much?”

“I don't want to be like them,” his pained voice pierced your chest; the movement of his body from the way the sobs were attacking him was almost uncontainable. “I don't want this distance.”

“Change is always hard, Jungkookie, but I promise you we'll be in touch always. I'll do my best to make it so.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I'll even come visit you as soon as I can.”

“No. I said I was going to pay for your trip.”

“See? You're not going to leave me.”

“Still I'm scared, noona. What if I'm not enough for them? What if I can't raise enough for you to come live with us?”

“You are enough, Jungkook. From the tips of your fingers to the tips of your hair, there's nothing about you that won't allow you to achieve your dreams, understand? You are destined to be a star. I know it's hard to leave behind everything you know in life, but believe me it will all be worth it. You will come out on top and you will succeed.”

“Noona…” Jungkook cried again, burying his face in your neck once more, clinging to you like the anchor that carried him to the surface of the ocean; the ocean shaped by his own tears. “I… don't… want… to… go…”

The hiccups that attacked him from his intense crying made it difficult for him to speak and you hadn't felt such pain even when the other boys left. There were tears shared, promises whispered and hugs that lasted longer than they should have, but no one had clung to your body as if they feared you were going to disappear at any moment and wanted to seize every second before the impending end.

“It's okay, Jungkookie,” you ran your hands up and down his back trying to calm his crying, trying to control your own as treacherous tears rolled down your cheeks with the darkness as your witness. “We'll meet again. You can wait for me. Then we can melt into another embrace and say how much we miss each other.”

Your phone vibrated on the bed, the notification startling you with its aggressiveness. Another vibration followed that one and then another. Turning on the screen, you found that half an hour had passed since you'd last seen the clock, and in passing you came across Yuna's name on the caller ID. You sighed, remembering the effusiveness with which she said goodbye in the afternoon and mentally preparing yourself for what was to come.

"Hey," you greeted, mildly surprised that her exclamations hadn't reached your ear first to interrupt your greeting.

"y/n, how were sales today?" her calm voice filled your hearing and a slight wrinkle implanted itself between your brows.

"Mmm, it was all good. We have several domiciliary and the prints are coming out with the deadlines arranged. With Seojun we considered that maybe taking on a publisher wouldn't be so bad, but I'm not sure yet."

You narrowed your eyes at the ceiling, shallowly biting your nails, waiting for the moment when Yuna would burst out, but it didn't come.

"Oh, yeah. We'll have to consider that. I'll go early tomorrow morning to seize the day." Yuna answered quietly, with the faint sound of things stirring in the background of the call. Surely she had just arrived at her apartment.

"Yuna?"

"Mhm?"

"How was the afternoon?"

"Oh, it was normal, really," she replied, her voice flat, as if the thought had barely crossed her mind since the moment she'd left the coffee shop. "I didn't see anyone memorable."

"Ah, so your knights in shining armor didn't attend?"

"Sadly, no." Yuna sighed, her unchanging attitude finding a little more sense in your head. She sounded more tired than anything.

You talked a bit more with Yuna before she excused herself to go about her evening routine and finally get some rest, specifically stressing to you how boring the whole afternoon had been and how every second she only thought about going home. You also told her a bit more about the ideas you and your father had half-heartedly spun as marketing strategies, but very earnestly your friend asked you not to do anything until she was there.

When her name disappeared from your caller ID, an Instagram notification popped up at the top of your home screen. The vibration felt like the pounding of a sledgehammer against wood, your sentence handed down with no chance of appeal, the blood in your veins freezing and an endless emptiness in the pit of your stomach.

jeonjungkook97 just followed you!

It was followed by the notification of a message from Yuna.

Unnie | 19:01 holy shit. jungkook just followed you on ig, right?

No fucking way. Another fucking account to block.

It wasn't like you couldn't deal with them. You had been doing it for about ten years. But now they just seemed to want to throw themselves in front of your face one by one and you weren't strong enough to handle that. Maybe your resolve needed to be more forceful; maybe you should be sure you hated them instead of feeling like your body was shaking and you could melt like jelly in the sun every time you felt they were one step closer to you. For a while, that was all you wanted; to find them; to be found. But now…?

The weekend was spent in a hodgepodge of managing your book sales and the seesaw of emotions you had in the face of the estranged but impactful actions of your old friends. You tried not to think about it too much; you really tried, but it was very difficult. It was easier to let the memories wash over you instead of diligently packing up the books on which you had squandered your blood and tears.

Your books, yes, that was the most important thing.

From the posts and hashtags, even though it had only been a couple of days, you could see that some people -those who had actually read the books- were already posting their opinions and reviews and you knew you had had plenty of time to prepare for that moment, but you really weren't ready to face it. You didn't know what it was; whether it was the pollen, the aligned planets, PMS, mercury retrograde… but all of those things were weighing you down too much recently and you weren't ready to hear the opinions.

And you couldn't help but keep asking yourself why? Having spent so much time, between so many experiences and so many personal changes, why now they decided that they would come back into your life? How dare they after ruining your life by completely abandoning you? Many times you wondered what was missing in you; what was never enough for them… sometimes you believed that this was how it was meant to be; just the seven of them, before you came along. It was always them seven first, then you.

Between lows and highs, between sadness and joy, you still had to keep working.

"Get rid of that face if you're not going to tell me what's wrong with you." Yuna crossed the cafeteria in front of you, picking up some glasses and plates on the table as lunchtime approached.

"I don't have any face."

"You've been in a somber mood since Saturday. You look dead."

You clicked your tongue, taking advantage of the fact that the store was nearly empty to do the math. "Don't be over the top."

"I'm just being honest and genuinely concerned about my friend, can you blame me?" Yuna reached the sink and simply left the dishes there to approach the cash register. Your eyes refused to meet hers, unsheathing a strange annoyance in the pit of your stomach.

"I'm fine," you moved the money automatically, doing the math in the back of your head as second nature, "don't worry so much."

"Ok, if you don't want to tell me about it at least try to distract yourself a little, why don't you take an extra half hour for lunch?"

"You know I can't do that."

"Sol would never know."

"I'm not going to do that."

Yuna pouted, dropping her chin onto the back of her hand. You knew she was about to fly you out of that chair the moment all the bills were safeguarded.

A whiplash of pain shot through your chest at the alternative of having to leave the cafeteria, alone, hovering with your thoughts once again, as you tried to shove the food down your throat. But Yuna happily dragged you out of the cafeteria, leaving you in the middle of the street with your little bag and lunch money, wishing you a happy break as she wandered off once more to deal with the sparse crowd of customers alone.

Maybe you should have told her you'd rather not eat than be alone, but…

That was the story of your life.

So you walked to that restaurant a couple of blocks away, where they sold the cheapest food in the area, and waited patiently while answering Yuna's messages to clear your mind.

Going through your social networks, you once again came across the cover of your books in the pre-viewing of a video and felt the bile in your throat. Let's see, you were happy. Or well, you were trying to convince yourself because you still had that bitter feeling in the pit of your stomach that wouldn't let you enjoy this blast like you should and it had a first and last name of its own. But, generally speaking, it was great that your books were selling, forgetting all the other circumstances that led to that happening.

So, standing in front of those videos, you were tormented by not being able to watch them. A self-published author should be prepared for that kind of thing. No, any author should be. Sharing your art with the world implicitly entailed confronting the world's expression in front of it. It was inevitable, of course, and it was also the energy that could start an engine or the fingers that put out the match. At that precise moment, you still didn't want to know what your destiny was.

You hated that. You hated feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. Why was life so heavy if you had just begun to live it?

Ah, too much pondering for one lunch.

And to think this all started with an Instagram story.

Having an existential crisis because you couldn't stand dealing with the stress and pressure of the extreme demand you were having and because of mixed feelings for a bunch of idiots resurfacing after so many years was one of the last things you thought you'd have to go through that year. Fuck, or ever in your entire life.

Taehyung might have done you a favor as well as a disservice.

But that's how you spent a while longer, as you walked back to the coffee shop, the noise of the city not being enough to quell the bustle of thoughts crashing against each other in your head.

Being in the eye of the hurricane, however, didn't mean you were safe. You barely had a breath of fresh air before the eyewall hit you hard once again.

"Noona…?"

You froze a few steps away from the cafeteria. You feared not only the way you immediately recognized the voice, but the way your body froze, fear, panic and uncertainty clouding your sense.

You were in the alley behind the coffee shop. You didn't usually go in that way, but you had taken a slightly longer way back, only because you were too busy thinking about whether or not your body was up to a longer walk.

You were so close to the door that you could almost hear Yuna's voice on the other side, barely muffled by the beeping that echoed in your ears as panic took over your body.

You didn't want to turn around. Your body was having every possible negative reaction, as if it was fighting an infection, the lunch you had just shoved down your throat seeking to make its way back into your mouth and the feeling of dizziness momentarily clouded you.

Was this how you planned to react if you ever saw them again? Was this how you acted out the scenarios you imagined in your head at night when your memories went back to the last time you saw them?

The only difference between those imaginings and what was happening at that moment was that before you could prepare yourself; you knew what was coming; you had control. Now? Your legs were about to give out, the weight of your body too much to bear.

And you wanted to mock the pathetic behavior you were engaging in. You should turn around, slap him and scream at him that you never wanted to see him again. But your heart was beating and feeling and… how could you deny it anything after so many years of being neglected?

But maybe you were imagining it. The little sleep you had this weekend and all the memories you dragged from the trunk since you saw that Instagram notification must have made you crazy enough that you heard voices, his voice, anywhere… you were still near a busy street, it could be anyone-

"y/n."

And, yet…

You didn't turn around knowing what it would entail to give his voice a face, even though you could madly and frankly recall every line of its length, and you spoke harshly through your teeth even though your labored breathing made your chest heave.

"What are you doing here?"

"Noona… you're really here."

You cringed as you heard his footsteps and clutched with inhuman speed at the lock on the door in front of you.

"I asked you a fucking question: what the fuck do you think you're doing here?"

The silence didn't give you an answer, but you could glimpse it. With your patience on edge and years of emotional repression it was impossible for you to deduce how you would react in such a case, but it didn't seem too far-fetched, even if Jungkook's surprised inspiration said he didn't expect you to be so harsh and rude.

As if you cared.

—Yes you did care, in fact, that's why your heart was beating wildly against your ribs, the choking sensation increasing, the nerves on edge and the tears all over the corners of your eyes, but you had to stand your ground. After so, so long… why, why, why, why?—

"I… I…" Jungkook seemed to be having trouble finding his voice, even though in his profession the words came melodiously and easily out of his mouth. If you turned to look at him, you might have noticed that his face went from happiness to anguish with the speed a bullet goes through a field, "I wanted to see you…"

He sounded so small. The five-foot-ten-plus man, who you're sure was almost a head and a half taller than you, might as well have been a badly wounded puppy behind you. You knew from the way he spoke that he was holding back tears, but you didn't let that sway you. He didn't deserve it.

"Who gave you the right to come here?"

You didn't let him answer, not knowing if he was even going to, tightening the lock on the door you were about to walk through at any moment, bile in your throat making you fear the fall as if you were at the top of a skyscraper.

"How the fuck did you even find me?"

"Well, I-"

"I don't fucking want to know!"

You cut him off, the dryness and venom in your voice making you tremble. You were so sad, so distraught and so angry at the same time.

"And I don't want to see you. So leave."

"Noona…"

"Fucking leave, Jeon, for fuck's sake!"

You moved, almost as if by inertia, opening the door and slamming it behind you, the noise so deafening that it echoed in your ears for several seconds until you heard Yuna's footsteps approaching you and felt her arms wrap around your body.

You didn't know what she was saying, you just leaned against the door and let yourself fall, your body shaking in cry after uncontrollable cry, truly wondering how everything had gone so far; wondering how, after so many years, you still allowed them to have that power over you; a power they didn't deserve and shouldn't have.

You felt shattered in that moment, every piece of you scattered in the hold, every moment of your life replaying on its glassy, sharp edges. Even with half of you staying afloat, Yuna held you until the tears stopped flowing and with renewed resolve you promised yourself that this was never going to happen again.

Jungkook had taken you by surprise, but from now on none of them would ever catch you off guard.

a/n: i dont really know what to think about this chap. sometimes i like it sometimes i dont. i guess thats just how it works. pls letme know what you think! thank u for all the support! <3

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthings @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @saintomie @damn-u-min-yoongi @juju-227592 @yoongznme @queenbloody @leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesworld @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison

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zriasstuff · 11 months ago

Text

Way too close—Theodore Nott x reader

Forced proximity

certain things need to he resolved…

If someone would have told you earlier today, that if you went to tonight’s Slytherin party you’d be stuck in an old closet with the Theodore Nott later on, you’d have never went.

But here you were, stuck beside Theo in an old closet used for storing rags and brooms, which smelled extremely unpleasant. You could practically feel a broom stabbing you in the back, but you didn’t want to move because you’d have to get closer to Theo in the process. He was facing you at the moment, but you weren’t looking him the eyes, instead you stared at the dusty closet floor.

It’s not that you absolutely hated Theo, although he hasn’t been exactly the nicest to you in the past. He always believed that he was entitled to do whatever he wanted without thinking about the consequences, especially the ones that would be inflicted on other people.

You remembered that a year ago, there was this huge rumor that your boyfriend at that time had made out with another girl. It wasn’t true though, and Theo had been the one that spread that lie. You guys broke up anyway, you just weren’t meant for each other, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that Theo had put a huge dent in your relationship and had made you feel so extremely humiliated.

It was a thing of the past, you moved on, but something about him still made you feel uneasy. And besides, he just had this overall intimidating, dark aura around him, as if he’d start a fight with you any second. Perhaps it’s just the way some people are.

You had originally thought that he’d refuse to spend 7 minutes in heaven with you, when the spinning bottle had landed on you, but to your surprise he was quite alright with it. Maybe not happy, definitely not unhappy though.

“What are you thinking about”, he asks you, disrupting the silence that had lasted for a solid minute already, while curiously looking down on you.

“Nothing, really”, you reply.

“Well you look like you got a stick up your ass, what’s with your weird posture?”

Rude. Were you really standing that crookedly, you ask yourself.

“If you must know, there’s this broom digging into my backside and I can’t stand properly without…”, you go silent, hesitating to name him the reason. Why would you, it would only be another six minutes.

“Without what?”, he further questions you in a demanding tone.

“…without practically leaning onto you” Fuck, you said it, and you knew you were blushing so hard right now. Why had you even said that? It was not like it made the awkwardness better. Luckily, darkness surrounded you, masking your intense blushing. What would he say now? You couldn’t possibly imagine a response.

“Then I guess I don’t want you to be uncomfortable now, do I?”

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was he being sarcastic? He certainly looked serious.

“What are you waiting for, move”

You definitely did not know where this was going, but after a bit of hesitation, you decided to do it, since he was so insistent. Although you were still confused on why he was so comfortable with having you lean on him. You think probably because he’s used to having girls all around him.

Moments later, finally lean onto him, pressing your body closely against his. Faces only inches away from touching. The warmth of his body immediately spreads to you, and you feel his breath on your skin. There was this awfully weird tingle going through your entire body.

His intense stare stuns you so much, that you feel your knees going soft for a second. It’s like you couldn’t focus on anything else besides his electric touch, it made you melt. Meanwhile, you also realize you’d never been this close to any guy before, ever. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all…

“Better?”

“Yeah, thanks”, you dryly reply.

This could be nice, you start to think to yourself. Perhaps you could start some small talk with him, to make the position you were in less full of tension.

“So-”

“So, do you wanna make out now?”

WHAT. What the hell, that came out of absolutely nowhere, and your mind starts to spin. Making out with Theodore Nott after just 3 minutes of talking ? Why in the hell would he even suggest that? He must be out of his mind.

He barely knew you, and now he wanted to make out? So many questions were circling your head, but not a single, coherent response left your mouth.

“uhm- wha, what?”, was all that escaped your mouth in a stuttering manner. It was all you could come up with.

“Clearly, you are not very experienced with party games, so let me explain“, he just so nonchalantly says. “Seven minutes of heaven is for making out. And it doesn’t hurt when the person you’re stuck with is really hot. So, since you’re more comfortable now, can we make out?”

He really had no sense of shame you thought to yourself.

All that left his mouth so matter of factly, that you barely had time to process what he said. Did he just call you hot? Not that you had much more time to overthink it because his lips smashed against yours already.

He used one hand to hold your waist, to keep you close to him, and the other to grab your head. Every single one of his touches sent electric waves through your body, and the kiss itself was so unexpected, yet so gentle. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and his lips were so soft and they intertwined with yours in such a magical way. It ignited a growing desire in you, that you also clung onto him tighter, wrapping your arms around his neck. Every aspect of this made you want to get even closer to him, but no.

He can’t just do this all of a sudden. You barely know him, besides from the thing he did to you in the past. Plus, this was such an intimate moment, and there was no way you were going to experience it in a dusty closet, so you pull back, as much as you want to continue locking lips with him.

“What do you think you’re doing?”, you flip the mood around 180 degrees. That may have sounded ruder than you’d expected, which you didn’t mean to. But you still had to confront him.

“Listen, I know you make out with like 10 girls a week, and this game may be an excuse for you to make out with another one, but I barely know you, and the things that I do know of you aren’t exactly nice”.

There, you’d confronted him, the most intimidating person you know. Seems like you were still pretty hurt by what he did, even if you told yourself it didn’t affect you all that much anymore.

“Playing hard to get huh?”, he raises an eyebrow at you while saying that. “You know, seconds ago, if I recall correctly, you seemed to enjoy the kiss a lot too. And now you wanna act like I forced myself on you, so what’s up with that?”

He was right, you did enjoy it too. It wasn’t fair to blame him completely. What if you had just shut up and enjoyed the kiss? There was no turning back though at this point.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t just pretend the kiss was all you. But I meant the part about you not being such a nice person”, you correct yourself.

“Now, what’s not nice about me?” He asked that in an accusatory tone, but he actually looked genuinely interested.

“Do you not remember what you did to me a few months back?”, you had hoped he would have some sort of memory about that.

“I barely remember what I do during any day, so no. I swear I’ll make it up to you though”, he replied honestly.

“You spread a rumor about my ex cheating on me, which wasn’t true by the way, never apologized, made me feel humiliated for days, and now you want to make out?” When you hear yourself speak those words, it really just made the situation seem even worse.

After not blinking and thinking for a few seconds Theo comes up with something and says “I didn’t realize it was that hurtful, but you gotta know do a lot of stupid stuff”

“I still don’t hear an apology”, you clap back, “and you doing stupid stuff often isn’t an excuse to be a bad person, maybe you should just quit doing stupid stuff.” What came out of Theos mouth was the lamest excuse you have ever heard, and he deserved to be knocked down a peg.

“So you’re seriously not gonna make out with me?”, he asks, sounding almost annoyed.

You didn’t think he could be any more of an asshole than he already was, but here you go. Theo wasn’t even worthy of a reply, so you just rolled your eyes.

At this point 7 minutes must’ve already passed you think because there was no way that 7 minutes were this long. You raise your arm to knock on the closet door, to signal to someone to unlock it, but before you could, Theo stops you in your tracks.

“Wait, wait, wait”, he said while holding onto your wrist, “I’m sorry, I know I come off as a jerk right now and most of the time too, but I do like you and want to make it up to you for having hurt you in the past.”

Even though he sounded halfway genuine, you didn’t fully believe he was sincerely sorry. He had also just completely changed within seconds. You just wanted to get out now, forget everything that happened, but there was no way of avoiding his gaze, that was scanning you right now for an answer.

“And how will you do that?”, you challenge him, to see if he really means it. It would be nice if he did make it up to you after all this time. Better late than never you think. You just didn’t want him to play a stupid trick on you instead.

Theo takes some time to think about his answer again. In the end he replied with “I’ll take you on a nice date.” He sounded way too cheeky saying that.

“That’s kind of selfish don’t you think, I don't believe a simple date will make it up to me”, you retorted at his proposal. Not that you wouldn’t enjoy it, the amazing kiss was still on your mind. When you thought of it, it made your stomach all fuzzy again. You just wanted him to be genuinely apologetic.

When you looked at him again, he was smiling for some odd reason. He countered with “Well, how do you know that it won’t make it up to you, if you don’t even give it a try?”, he did have you there. Perhaps it was his cheeky, yet charming smile, or the kiss, but you saw his point. There was no way of knowing before actually giving him a shot at redeeming himself. Theo continued smiling and he knew that he had somehow convinced you.

To give him a date wouldn’t be the end of the world, so what’s the point of making it more complicated than it is.

He was still patiently waiting for an answer, so at last, you gave him the satisfaction and agreed to a date. It was a huge relief on both of your sides, and you could hopefully finally put the past to rest after the date.

After a bit of more talking and banter, someone finally unlocked the closet doors and apologized for having forgotten all about you. Theo chuckles and flashes a grin at you before saying “Don’t be sorry, I thank you.”

#harry potter #slytherin #oneshot #hp fandom #theodore nott #slytherin boys #forced proximity #7 minutes in heaven #hp fanfic #fanfic #theo nott #harry potter oneshot #slytherin reader #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fic #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you

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coco-loco-nut · 9 months ago

Note

Hii!

Can I please ask for an angsty fic with Max, where the reader defends him from Jos after not finishing his race in Melbourne...idk if you remember when Max kept his helmet for four hours after a race because he was afraid of what Jos would have done to him after not winning...and the reader basically tells Jos to get lost even if she's like 5'4 and definitely not as intimidating as them both lol.

And then maybe after the win in Suzuka, they "reconcile" but she still reminds him to act right around her boyfriend, who's now a man and not a little boy he could pressure like he once did.

Sorry if it's too long!! Thanks for taking your time and reading my request!

Guard Dog

Pairing: Max x Reader

Summary: You are sick and tired of watching Max take Jos' shit

TW: verbal abuse

A/n: thank you soooo much for the rec, I love writing these out so much <3

requests open masterlist

----------------

"Maxie... are you okay?" you wait patiently by the door to his driver's room, careful not to barge in like Jos would, as you have for the past year since you first witnessed Jos' beratement of his son. He is sitting on the couch with his helmet between his hands. The fire causing an unpleasant start to the race, and you are just glad you got here first.

"I'm okay," his voice cracks and you step into the room, closing the door behind you. "I know it wasn't my fault, but I can't help but feel like it was my fault," Max looks in your eyes, the fire brewing behind them. You were genuinely the sweetest girl he's ever met, and to get you mad took a lot. God help you if Jos shows up, you are tired of Max feeling bad even when he podiums.

"You're right, you didn't do anything wrong, the car failed you today," you stay calm, sitting beside him and cuddling into him. Max stays quiet, enjoying your warmth, and decompressing from the start. He can understand why the fans were so happy to see him lose, in fact, if he wasn't himself, he would join them. No, the fear of his father is what has him on edge. Rightfully so, because a few seconds later the door is slammed open again.

"Max, what the hell did you-" Jos starts and you launch yourself off the couch. Jos and Max were big guys, and you were average height for a woman, 5'6 or so, but you didn't seem like it in that moment.

"Shut the hell up and leave. You have nothing useful to say and you are going to shift blame to Max who had NO fault in the DNF," you snarl, setting yourself up as a barrier between the two, Jos still in the doorway and Max on the couch.

"Girl, I don't know who you think you are, but I am Max's father, and I can-," You cut Jos off before he can continue.

"No, you aren't his father. A father doesn't talk to his son like that, you are simply a man who shares the same last name as Max. A father is someone like Carlos Sainz Sr or Lawrence Stroll. No, you are a man- sorry a boy in a man's body- who can't cope with the fact that he doesn't race anymore and wants the man who shares the same last name with him to be impossibly perfect and win every single race, even when the car breaks down." You sneer at the man. "You need to leave, before I call security and make them remove you," you don't back down, instead you step closer. Max watches in both awe and fear.

"I-"

"Leave, Jos, now. Don't make me repeat myself," you say, practically slamming the door behind him. You turn around and look at Max, seemingly calm and normal. He looks at you bewildered.

"That was the sexiest thing ever. Thank you, Schatje, you didn't have to do that," Max hugs you, a large weight off of his shoulders.

"Of course I did, who else will be your guard dog?" You smile at him, squeezing him tighter. "Now, get changed and get back to the garage," you tell Max, stepping out to the room. You let out a deep breath, surprised with how you treated Jos and stood up for Max. A couple minutes later, Max rejoins you, quickly stopping inside hospitality for a snack.

The two of you avoid Jos, going extremely low contact, not that he was trying to. Jos would never admit it, but he was embarrassed at how you spoke to him, and his retreat allowed him to ignore it. Instead, you and Max enjoyed your time together in Japan. The both of you were aware Jos was there, but chose to ignore it. After Max won, Jos warily approached the two of you.

"I wanted to congratulate you on winning. You drove well," Jos says stiffly, silently calling for a truce. You let Max take the lead on the conversation.

"Thank you," he says, feeling like a little boy again, but accepting the temporary truce.

"It was good seeing you Jos, but we need to go," you interject, sensing the still tense atmosphere. The older man, still a little scared of you despite your sweet demeanor, lets you go, not quite willing to cross you again.

"Love you, Maxie"

"Love you too, Schatje,"

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen #i hate jos verstappen

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javiscigarette · 1 year ago

Text

Ease

Javier Peña x f!reader

Requested:

requesting… daddy!javi comforting u after a stressful work day 👀 pls n thank

warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, fingering, squirting, spitting, spanking, a bit ass play (I cant resist), dirty talk, daddy!javi obviously, d/s dynamics obviously, extreme overuse of pet names and I'm not sorry, fluffy Javi deserves its own warning

w/c: 5.3k

a/n: the long overdue Javi fic is finally here lmao I wrote this very quickly and I haven't written for him in a long time so it may not be my best but I'm honestly just proud that I finally got something out :)) pls let me know if you like it!! ALSO! I reached 1.5k followers awhile ago which is just mind blowing so I just wanted to say THANK YOU to everyone who has joined me and continues to support me. This blog and all the friends I've made here have helped me through some pretty rough times and I'm forever grateful AHHH I just you all soo much!!

my masterlist

You’re not there to greet him when he opens the door. Usually you’d have a glass of whiskey in your hand for him, already a little tipsy from the glass you had for yourself earlier.

There’s a unpleasant shiver that runs down his spine as the thought of you being in some sort of danger immediately crosses his mind. But the sound of you puttering around in the kitchen gives you away. That and the haze of smoke and smell of burnt food wafting through the entire apartment.

He kicks his shoes off and loosens his tie as he rounds the corner to the kitchen to find you standing in front of the stove, tending to what he assumes is some chicken in a pan. The exhaust fan on the range hood and the ceiling fan are working overtime, pushing the smoke out of the kitchen and through the open window.

“Hi, bebita” Javi says as he enters the smokey kitchen. You don’t say anything in response, just give him a quick sideways glance before turning back to the stove.

He crosses the room and moves to stand behind you. Maybe if he had seen the frown on your face, or the way your eyebrows are deeply creased in frustration, he would’ve said something very different.

But he didn’t see.

“Dinner smells delicious” he teases, squeezing your hips. He’s expecting a little chuckle from you, or at least an annoyed eye roll with a hidden smile.

So he’s caught very off guard when you slam the spatula down on the counter with a loud, frustrated sigh.

“Well I’m sorry that I tried to make a nice meal. Guess I’m fuckin’ useless at that too.”

You try to push yourself out of his grasp, but his grip only tightens.

“Hey okay okay, easy.” Javi soothes, turning you around so you’re facing him. “What’s wrong, bebita?” he asks, his tone immediately switching from teasing to soft and tener.You puff out a heavy sigh, refusing to look up at him and staring at his white shirt stretched across his chest instead.

All the thoughts about your horrid day at work that you’ve been trying to block out break the damn and come flooding back into your head; your boss telling you that you fucked up two different major tasks and refusing to tell you how to do them correctly, catching your coworkers gossiping about you in the breakroom, your computer dying right before you could save any of the work you had done for the day, and how you tried to come home and cook as a distraction but you clearly forgot about the chicken sitting on the stove and almost caught the house on fire.

You hadn’t even noticed the tears welling up in your eyes until Javi is wiping away the ones that have brimmed over and slid down your cheeks.

“Cariño…” Javi whispers, his tone drenched with concern. That’s all it takes. You instantly break down, falling forward into Javi’s chest as your whole body shakes as you sob, your tears wetting the crisp fabric of his shirt.

You tell him everything in between wet gasps and uneven breaths, unloading everything at once. He just holds you through it, nodding along and giving you an occasional understanding hum while running his palms up and down your back until you finish talking.

“Your boss is an asshole” is the first thing Javi says. “Your coworkers too”

You respond with a pathetic sniffle. “I really fucked up though. And now everyone thinks I can’t do my job”

"Bebita,” Javi starts, continuing to rub soothing circles on your back. “Everyone has tough days at work. It doesn't define your abilities or your worth. You're so much more than a single bad day."

You sniffle again, still leaning heavily against him for support.

"It's just... I'm tired of feeling like I'm constantly failing."

Javi clicks his tongue and moves one hand to use two fingers to gently tilt your chin up, making you meet his easy gaze.

"You're not failing, mi amor. Sometimes things don’t go as planned and that’s okay. You're learning and growing."

You wish he wasn’t so right all the time. Sometimes talking back to the false narrative that runs rampant in your head 24/7 is too much work.

"I know” you sigh, wiping away tears with the back of your hand. “It’s just hard not to let it get to me."

Javi's thumb brushes against your cheek, his touch gentle and comforting.

"I understand. Just remember you're not alone in this. I’ll always be here for you, my sweet girl”

You manage a weak smile, feeling a bit of warmth starting to seep back into your heavy heart.

“Thank you” you whisper.

Javi smiles warmly, his eyes full of admiration and unwavering support.

“Of course, baby. I’m here for you always. No matter what.”

You let your head fall back to his chest and you take a deep breath. He keeps rubbing your back, physically feeling the tension leaving your body as you melt against him. Without your brain in overdrive, you finally register the smell of his faded cologne and his cigarettes sticking to his shirt, the scent immediately washing away more of the tension in your muscles. The warm feeling in your chest starts to spread all the way down to your toes, your whole body feeling 10 times lighter than it did 5 minutes ago as his embrace brings you a sense of solace you hadn’t experienced all day.

After another silent minute or two, he places a kiss to your hairline before leaning in close, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

“You know, there’s another way to forget about it for a little while.”

His low voice alone already has the base of your spine tingling. You pick your head up to meet his gaze, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes.

“Yeah?” you ask, a weak smile slowly spreading across your face.

“Mhmm” he hums, his hands sliding down to your waist and slipping under the hem of your shirt, his warm fingers splaying over your skin.

"You've had a tough day," Javi continues, his voice a sensual murmur. "And I think you deserve something to take your mind off all that stress."

His words, laden with suggestion, push all the worries out of your body, replacing it with a thrill that courses through your veins. He leans in until his face is inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Let me take care of you, bebita."

All you can do is nod dumbly. Javi grins as he pulls you in closer. His lips capture yours in a slow, tantalizing kiss, his lips soft and warm against yours, the taste of him flooding your senses. His hands slide up from your waist to your rib cage, rucking up your shirt in the process. Every touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, drawing you impossibly closer to him. He pulls away just long enough to pull it over your head before his lips capture yours again.

He wraps one arm around you, keeping you close as his other hand cups your jaw, his fingers curling around the back of your neck as his thumb mindlessly brushes your cheek. Your hands find their way to his back, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt.

He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip and you part your lips with a soft sigh, his tongue immediately sliding against yours. It’s a dance of desire and vulnerability, an unspoken promise that he’s here to take away all of your worries. The rest of the world quickly fades into a distant blur, leaving just the two of you in this electric connection.

His lips eventually leave your mouth, his breathless chuckle fanning across your jaw at the sound of your quiet whimper. He trails wet kisses along your jaw, down to the side of your neck, each one accompanied by a soft exhale that causes goosebumps to erupt over every inch of your skin. The sensation is exquisite and maddeningly arousing, and you find yourself tilting your head back, giving him better access.

His teeth gently graze over your pulse point, sending shiver coursing through your entire body. Your heart races as he finds a spot just below your collarbone, nipping and sucking before soothing the dark spot with his tongue. His hands roam your torso, big, warm palms exploring every inch of exposed skin. You can feel the bulge in his jeans rapidly grow against your hip and your core throbs with a dull ache in response. Everything that happened earlier is miles away as you feel yourself relaxing deeper into his embrace, losing yourself in him.

He pulls away when you whine quietly and looks down at you, his pupils already blown with lust and desire. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear then ducks down to place a chaste kiss to your lips before whispering “Bedroom. Now.”

You nod and turn to head out of the kitchen, letting out a small giggle when he lands a quick slap to your ass. His eyes are glued to your backside as he follows you to the bedroom, his fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt along the way

You flop down on the edge of the bed with Javi just a few steps behind you. He tosses his shirt to the corner of the room and starts working on his belt as he stalks towards you. You smirk and reach behind you, undoing the clasp of your bra and letting it slide off your arms. Javi licks his lips at the sight of you sitting there in only your soft cotton shorts, looking like he’s about to pounce on his prey.

He crosses the room until he’s standing inches in front of you, then slips his belt out of the loops and tosses it aside. You reach out, intent on undoing the button and zipper of his jeans but he stops you by wrapping a large hand around your wrist before you can touch him.

“Nuh uh, baby. I’m takin’ care of you tonight”

His words send a strong pulse of excitement down your spine and your heart pounds in your chest. He lets go of your wrist and you let it fall limply back to your side as you stare at him through your lashes.

“Take off your shorts.”

You immediately follow his command, quickly standing and moving to slide your shorts and panties down your legs so fast that you stumble a bit when they get caught around your feet. Javi reaches out and grabs your arm to steady you as you step out of your shorts and kick them to the side.

“Good girl” he chuckles, dropping his hand from your arm. You watch with wide eyes, saliva gathering in your mouth as he shuffles out his jeans, his hardened cock gently slapping against his lower abdomen. He catches your gaze and gives you a knowing wink before making his way onto the bed. You stand in place, patiently waiting for your next set of instructions as he props himself up against the headboard.

“C’mere” he says softly, patting his thigh. You positively beam as you climb on the bed towards him. You face him and you’re about to straddle his lap, but he stops you with a hand on your hip.

“Turn around, cariño.”

You listen and immediately turn around and sit down between his spread legs, pressing your back into his chest. His cock presses firmly into the small of your back, a warm and welcome presence. With a contented sigh, you lean back and rest your head on his shoulder.

“You listen so well, baby” Javi rasps, his voice rough with arousal. You only hum in response, your lips curving into a grin as you glow under his praise. He presses a kiss to your temple and his hands find your torso once again, slowly sliding up and down your sides. But he can only resist temptation for so long.

He uses both hands to cup your breasts and you both let out soft sighs in unison.

“Tan bonita, princesa” he whispers, his fingers finding both of your nipples. A small noise escapes from your parted lips as he feathers the pads of his fingers over the sensitive buds, teasing you until they’re stiffened peaks. He then pinches both, gently rolling them between his thumb and fingers.

“That feel good?” he asks softly, his lips moving against your temple.

You nod, letting out an uneven breath as you involuntarily push your chest forward into his touch. He pinches a little harder, pulling a delicate gasp from you. His cock twitches against you in response.

“Want you to use your words, bebita.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before responding.

“F-feels good, Javi.”

He clicks his tongue and squeezes a little harder again.

“And what do you call me when I’m makin’ you feel good, princesa?” he asks, his voice dangerously low in your ear.

Your mouth goes dry and your heart skips a beat in your chest.

Fuck.

The stress of your day was already far in the back of your mind, but Javi was intent on erasing it completely. And he knows exactly how to do so.

“Daddy” you correct yourself, the simple word placing you on precipice of submission “Feels really good, daddy”

“That’s right, bebita” Javi groans softly, his cock twitching in approval. “Such a good girl for me.”

He then hooks his chin over your shoulder while you exhale a long, shaky breath as one of his hands leaves your breast and slides down your stomach. You clit pulses in anticipation, but he avoids where you want him most and instead smooths his hand over the top of your thigh. Your chest heaves with every breath as he teases you with gentle touches, getting you all worked up just the way you both like it.

“You want me to touch you, princessa?” Javi asks, his fingertips dancing delicately on the inside of your thigh. It tickles and you reflexively try to close your legs, but he brings his foot to the inside of your calf and pushes it to the side before placing his foot flat on the bed, keeping your leg firmly in place. “Answer me.”

“Yes, daddy, please” you whine, your voice coming out a lot more desperate than you intended.

“Where, baby? Tell me where you want daddy’s fingers.”

He’s teasing you, but it serves as an excellent distraction – the events from earlier today are the least of your concerns right now.

“You want them here?” he asks, his fingers now just barely tracing your dripping seam. “Want me to touch your pretty little pussy? Rub that pretty little clit?”

You nod fervently and buck your hips up without thinking, your body betraying your patience and chasing after his touch. Javi chuckles darkly and harshly pinches your nipple with his other hand, making you jump in surprise.

“Tell me, baby. Be a good girl and tell me.”

You whimper, a hot flush spreading across your chest and creeping up your neck. You’ve been here a thousand times with him, been in far more desperate situations too. But the butterflies still tickle your tummy and the tips of your ears burn with embarrassment.

“Want…want you to touch my pretty little pussy, daddy.” you murmur, the last of your sentence barely audible.

He immediately rewards you by dipping two fingers into your slippery folds, groaning softly in your ear when he feels how wet you are for him. “Mmm that’s my good girl. Always fuckin’ soaked for me, huh?” he asks, dipping the tips of his fingers into your hole, gathering your slick and dragging it up to your clit. You nod lazily, your eyes fixed on his hand between your legs.

He starts with slow, languid circles, his cock pulsing against your back with every small noise that bubbles up out of your throat. His other hand is still occupied with pinching and rolling your nipple. Hot arousal flows through your veins, every nerve ending on fire just from his easy touches. You want it faster, you need more. But you know he won’t give it to you unless you ask.

“Pl-please, daddy. Faster please” you huff, squirming in his lap as you try to suppress the urge to buck your hips up again.

“Look at you, princesa. Being such a good girl asking’ nicely like that” Javi whispers, instantly picking up the pace of his fingers and adding more pressure. You let out a long, low moan, the sound of it filling the bedroom. “Sound so pretty too” he adds, pressing his lips to your temple.

His other hand leaves your nipple and he shushes you softly when you whine at the loss. He doesn’t tease you this time, his hand immediately joining the other between your legs. He keeps his two fingers on your clit, rubbing firm circles just like you asked while his other hand finds your leaking entrance.

He doesn’t make you ask again before he slides his middle finger inside of you, probably more out of his own desperation to feel you clenching around him. You’re absolutely soaked, you juices freely flowing out of you, down his finger and into his palm like warm honey. He wants to draw it out, slowly work you up until you’re about to snap, but he’s not feeling very patient anymore.

He slides his finger in and out of you a few more times before adding a second, curling his fingertips. He finds the spot inside of you instantly and you reward him with a loud gasp, your whole body trembling as you relax against his chest.

“That’s it, baby. Just relax for me” Javi coos, his voice tight and strained as he tries to contain his own excitement. He pumps his fingers inside you, his fingertips nudging against the spot that has your whole body jolting with every pass. Every inch of your skin feels on fire as he works you, lewd sounds filling the room as he plays with your slick pussy. You feel wetness on your back and quickly realize that it’s his precum leaking from his warm tip, smearing against your skin as you squirm around.

“Mierda, princesa” Javi groans as you clench tightly around his two fingers. “You close, baby?” he asks, already knowing the answer. You answer with a high-pitched whine, throwing your head back on his shoulder.

“Cum for me, baby” Javi grunts, moving his fingers faster, bringing you to the edge. “Cum all over my fingers and then I’ll fuck you, nice and deep just how you like it”

His fingers are relentless, rubbing dizzying circles on your clit and punching up into your g-spot. You can’t hold back anymore, rocking your hips and grinding down on his fingers. Your chest burns with every breath you manage to suck in, the hot coil in your tummy wound tightly, threatening to burst at any moment. You open your mouth and try to tell him that you’re about to cum, but every time you try to speak, the only sounds that come out are loud gasps in-between broken moans.

And then you finally snap. Javi groans as you clamp down around his fingers, so tight that he can hardly keep moving them. He then quickly pulls them out, his eyes wide with amazement as your juices gush out of you, drops of it landing on his leg, most of it soaking the blankets underneath you.

“There’s my good girl” he hisses between clenched teeth. He watches intently as you thrash around, the sight of you squirting and the sweet sounds of your moans going straight to his cock as he works you through your orgasm. He doesn’t let up until you come down, whimpering and jolting at his touch.

You collapse backwards against his chest, your head on his shoulder as you pant and try to catch your breath. He goes back to tracing your seam, his touch featherlight once again. You let out a sigh, your limbs heavy and head fuzzy with pure ecstasy.

He eventually moves his hands away, placing them on your thighs and letting out a low whistle.

“Did so well, princesa. Look how much you came for me” Javi rasps, nosing at the column of your neck.

You pick your head up, looking down at the aftermath of your orgasm. You laugh breathlessly at the dark spot underneath you and the liquid on Javi’s calf shining in the dim glow of the lamp on the bedside table. Javi’s chest rumbles with his own chuckle as he presses sweet kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck.

He doesn’t give you much time to recover before he taps your thighs and gives you your next command. “Hands and knees, princesa.”

You’ve barely had time to catch your breath, but your pussy still aches in anticipation of his earlier promise. You take a deep breath and find enough strength to sit up straight. Your limbs are weak and noodly as you crawl over to a dry spot on the bed and get into position, your ass in the air with your face pressed against the soft blankets.

You crane your neck to watch Javi who flashes you a devilish grin as he assumes his position on his knees behind you. You give him a sweet smile back and wiggle your ass. And he takes the bait, groping your cheeks with both hands before he spreads you open, putting everything on display just for him.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous, baby.” he growls before leaning over to spit. You gasp and moan softly at the feeling of the warm liquid landing on your asshole and sliding down to pool at your swollen clit. He then brings his thumb up, using the pad to gently rub his saliva against your puckered hole. “So fuckin’ gorgeous”

“Daddyyyy” you whine pitifully, pushing your hips back into his touch. He chuckles breathlessly and wraps a hand around the base of his cock and lining himself up.

“You’re so good, baby.” Javi starts as he slides his cock in the mess between your cheeks. “My strong, beautiful, intelligent, good girl.”

Your face heats up at the praise, the words stirring up the butterflies in your stomach yet again.

“Thank you, daddy” you murmur, the sound muffled by the blankets. Javi just hums and continues to glide his cock through the wetness, addicted to the way whimper every time his cockhead brushes against your swollen clit and your aching entrance. You whimper and wiggle your hips again, trying to get what you want.

“Repeat it.” Javi commands simply. “Wanna hear you say it”

You squeeze your eyes shut and whimper again. He’s completely taken over your headspace now, forcing you into a place of submission where there’s no room to think about anything other than him and what he asks of you. This is how he takes care of you, how he can turn every bad day on its head and take away every single one of your worries until you’re a blissed out mess underneath him. And he’s really fucking good at it.

“I’m your strong, beautiful, intelligent, girl” you choke out, a fresh wave of slick gushing out of you and onto his rock hard cock at the forced admission.

“Forgot one” he breathes, his thumb still rubbing at your tight little hole. You wrack your brain, thoughts moving slower than syrup in your head as you try to remember what he said not even 10 seconds ago.

“Good.” you say, as soon as you remember. I’m you’re good girl, daddy.”

“Yes you are, baby” Javi says, notching his tip at your entrance. “So fucking good for your daddy.”

He pushes all the way in, burying himself to balls deep in your aching cunt in one smooth movement. The sounds you make are obscene as you twist your fists in the blanket underneath him. He’s so deep, you swear you can feel him somewhere near your lungs. Just like he promised. He moans roughly behind you, the feeling on your warm walls squeezing rhythmically around his neglected cock overwhelming all of his senses.

But you don’t let him catch a break. You barely give yourself time to adjust before you take matters into your own hands and start rocking your hips, fucking yourself on his cock. Javi inhales sharply, both hands finding your hips and trying to hold you in place, but you’re not having it.

“Daddy please–oh shit– please fuck me, need it so bad” you whine as you continue to rock your hips despite Javi’s best efforts to stop you.

Javi just growls in response, his fingertips digging into your hips as he slides out until just his tip rests inside before slamming back into you. The loud moan that he pulls from you travels as a shiver down his spine and fuels his fire. He quickly finds a steady pace, brutally slamming into you like he’s fucking the stress out right out of your body. You let all the moans and whines and whimpers float freely out of your mouth as you take what he gives you, as he fills you up and stuffs you full over and over and over again.

“You're so good for me” Javi grunts, gripping your hips and moving them backwards to meet his every thrust. “Feel so fucking good squeezing me like that, this tight little pussy was fucking made for me”

Your eyes roll back into your head, his words once again turning your brain into mush as he fucks you into another plane of existence. You’re already teetering on the edge of another release, your lower abdomen burning with it, your swollen, neglected clit pulsing and desperate for attention.

And Javi feels it too.

“Already gonna cum again?” Javi asks breathlessly before landing a smack to your ass. You yelp in shock and there’s another wave of your juices leaking out onto his cock.

“Ohh you like that, don’t you baby?” Javi coos before spanking you again, this time a bit harsher. Your face scrunches in pleasure and words have completely eluded you so you just cry out against the mattress, hoping that and your clenching pussy gets the point across.

Thankfully Javi doesn’t ask you to answer him. Instead he keeps fucking into you, delivering firmm hits to your ass, completely mesmerized with the way it jiggles as he spanks and fucks into you. He’s just as close as you are, never lasts very long if he’s inside without cumming at least once beforehand.

He moves one hand from your hip to between your legs, his fingers tracing where you’re stretched out so nicely around his thick cock before they land on your clit once again. You sob as he starts immediately rubbing fast, harsh circles that send you speeding towards the finish line.

“Oh fuck, daddy! Gonna cum m’gonna cum pleasssee let me cum”

Javi sucks in a harsh breath, his eyebrows furrowing together as his cock lurches inside of you.

“Yeah, fuck yeah, baby. Cum on this cock like a good girl” Javi grits out, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he clenches his teeth together, trying to hold himself together. Your hands scramble against the blankets as he slams into you with newfound vigor, pushing you up the bed with each thrust and making you scream in ecstasy.

“Cum and then I’ll fill you up” he grunts. “I’ll fill you up and fuck it so deep that it’ll be leaking out of you for days, just reminding you of how good you are for me. Always so fucking good baby jesus christ”

His filthy promises send you flying over the edge. You bury your face in the blankets and scream, your legs giving out from the force of it, your hips dropping to the bed and leaving you in a prone position. And Javi doesn’t miss a beat. He presses his chest against your back, using his freehand to support the bulk of his weight as he keeps working his fingers on your clit the best he can, not letting his pace falter even once.

The new position shoves his cock even deeper inside of you, punching against your cervix with each thrust as he rearranges your guts. Your only option is to lie there let him drag out your release for as long as possible.

“That’s it” Javi rasps, his voice sounding absolutely wrecked now. “Sweet little pussy is fuckin’ milking my cock, cariño. You want my cum? Want me to stuff you fuckin’ full?”

You’re too far gone to respond, reduced to nothing but putty in his hands, your trembling body limp and pliant just for him to use. He can only hold it together for a few more thrusts before he buries himself all the way inside of you, spilling his hot seed deep inside of you.

Staying true to his promise, he fucks you through it, shallowly moving his hips and pushing his cum as deep as possible. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, the sensation of it all pushing you over the edge once again, though you’re not sure if you ever came back from the last one. Javi watches in amazement as you cum again, your voice breaking on desperate sobs while you squeeze around him, truly milking him for all he’s worth.

He moves his hand from your clit once your moans start to die down and then collapses on top of you, carefully though as not to completely crush you. You welcome the weight, a comforting pressure that makes you feel so warm and safe and secure.

He stays buried inside of you as you both come down. You can feel his heart pounding from where his chest is pressed against you, his warm breath fanning across your neck as you both try to catch your breath. The two of you stay there for a while, basking in the post coitus glow. His cock softens inside of you and he only moves when his cum starts to dribble out of you.

You whine softly as he moves to sit up, his now soft cock slipping out of you and leaving you feeling empty. But the feeling doesn’t last too long.

He scoots back so he’s kneeling between your legs, both hands on your cheeks and spreading you open again. You feel his eyes burning holes into your skin as he watches his cum slowly leaking out of you. He doesn’t let it fall too far though, using a finger to scoop up all that’s dribbled out and pushing it back inside. You moan softly at the sensation and it takes everything in him not to fuck you with his fingers once again.

“Think we need to get you in a nice hot shower” he says, his tone sweet and soft once again as he removes his fingers.

You turn your head to look at him through hooded eyes, a dopey smile plastered to your face, looking completely fucked out.

“And we’re ordering take out too” he announces, leaning over to place a sweet kiss on your cheek. Images of the burnt chicken sitting on the stove float through your head, along with fuzzy memories of the events from earlier today. But you don’t give a single fuck anymore. Javi thoroughly wiped every ounce of stress from your brain. And now anything that isn’t directly related to you and Javi at this moment, on your shared bed in the dim light of the evening sun filtering through the curtain is far, far away.

“We’re not getting fucking chicken” is all you say and the sound of yours and Javi’s laughter rings pleasantly through the room and in your ears as content seeps deep into your bones.

I LOVE THIS MAN okay thank u for reading <333

#javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #javier pena fic #javier pena x you #javier pena #narcos #narcos fic #pedro pascal characters #javiscigarette

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rayclubs · 2 years ago

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Making a list of random Russian words I think Heavy would say so y'all can stop putting "da" and "niet" everywhere.

"Ну" - an interjection, untranslatable.

"Так" - "so" - another interjection.

"Всё" - "all" / "that's all" - usually used to signify being done with something. "Всё, I'm tired, let's go home." Can be used in conjunction with past tense to signify an intention. "Всё, I left. " ("That's it, I'm leaving.")

"Ну да." - "Yeah, right." - sarcastic.

"Ну да, конечно." - "Yeah, right, of course." - very sarcastic.

"Тихо" - "quiet" / "be quiet" - can be used literally, but also has mild comedic potential. Use it when someone is making a point that is factually correct, contradicts your point, but also you kind of hate it. "I am pretty good at chess." - "You never won against Medic." - "Тихо."

"Куда?!" - "Where?!" - use when someone or something is moving in a direction you neither expected nor desired. For a more obscene (mat) version, see: "Куда, бля?!"

"Давай" - "let's go" - can be used in a variety of contexts, including but not limited to: a suggestion, an encouragement, a sarcastic taunt, and a substitute for "goodbye". "Давай, see you later."

"Отстань" - "leave me alone" - said when annoyed by someone. For a mat version see "отъебись", for plural see "отстаньте" and "отъебитесь".

"Ладно" - "alright" - has a ton of uses. One I'd like to see is reluctantly agreeing to something you'd previously dismissed. "Ладно, you convinced me!"

"Короче" - lit. "shorter" - an extremely common interjection. Depending on context, can be translated as "so" or "to put it briefly". "The BLU team has a turret on the roof, a stickybomb ambush in the tunnel, and a Spy in our territory - короче, we are fucked."

"Хорошо" - "fine". Can be used instead of "ладно" or in the same sentence. "Всё, ладно, хорошо, you convinced me! Now отстань."

"Бывает" - lit. "Happens" - used when reacting to a relatable story, or when trying to comfort someone who just experienced an unpleasant but relatively minor thing. Not unkind, but not overly empathetic either. My sis said it when my cousin announced his breakup at the family table. Happens. Shrug.

"Надо" - "need" or "gotta" - used in response to someone protesting the inevitable. "I don't wanna wake up at 6 frickin' AM to do Soldier's stupid frickin' training!" - "Надо, Scout, надо."

"Жесть" - lit. "Tin" - not sure where the use comes from, but it's said in reaction to something shocking and almost always negative. "His head blew up. Жесть." Not a rule, but I would use it with a period instead of an exclamation mark, for emphasis.

"Ужас" - "horror" - same context as "жесть", but worse. Can also be sarcastic. Can also extend into a full sentence: "Какой ужас!" - "What terror!".

"Стой" - lit. "Stand" (verb, imperative) - wait, hold on, hold up a minute, etc. See "стойте" for plural. "Подожди"/"погоди" (plural "подождите"/"погодите") is very similar and literally means "wait".

"Спасибо" - "thank you".

"Пожалуйста" - "please". Can also be a response to "thank you".

"Всегда пожалуйста" - "always please" - a very lovely response to "thank you", basically means you're always ready to help.

"Не за что" ("for nothing") and "на здоровье" ("for health") - two more nice responses to "thank you".

"Будь здоров" - lit. "Be healthy" - "bless you", like when someone sneezes.

Will add more later.

#tf2 #tf2 language #tf2 heavy

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er1nne · 30 days ago

Text

Own You

Pairing – coriolanus snow x black!reader Word Count? 9.3k Summary – What happens when you’re forced to confront the unsettling truths about your place in a world that feels both luxurious and inescapable? Tags: (18+), cw: mentions of suicidal thoughts (small part in the middle), dark!toxic!coriolanus, emotional manipulation, gaslighting, physical abuse?AN: This is my first time sharing my writing on Tumblr, so please ignore any typos. It hasn’t been proofread, but I hope you enjoy reading. Please let me Thank you! Do not reshare or use without giving me credit

The room was cold, the kind of cold that seeped into your skin and settled deep in your bones. The sharp scent of antiseptic stung your nose, sharp and cloying, almost like it was trying to suffocate

The room was freezing, the chill creeping into my skin and settling deep in my bones, leaving me restless and uncomfortable. The sterile air smelled of antiseptic, sharp and chemical, clinging to the back of my throat in a way that made me want to gag. It was the kind of smell that had grown familiar over time but never less unpleasant, a constant reminder of the reason I was here. I perched on the edge of the examination table, its crinkly paper cover rustling beneath me every time I shifted. The noise felt deafening in the oppressive silence, each movement amplified in the cavernous emptiness of the room. I swung my feet slightly, my heels tapping against the cold metal frame in a nervous rhythm. It wasn’t a conscious movement—more of an outlet for the tension that had been building since I arrived.

The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed faintly, their harsh glare reflecting off every polished surface in the room. The white walls were devoid of anything resembling warmth or comfort, the kind of blank canvas that seemed designed to erase the humanity of anyone inside. My gaze wandered to the counter where an assortment of medical tools sat neatly arranged, their metallic edges gleaming under the stark light. Everything here was too precise, too pristine, as though the room itself wanted to remind me that I didn’t belong. My fingers twisted at the hem of my sweater, pulling at the fabric until it stretched, the familiar texture grounding me just enough to keep the growing anxiety at bay.

I let my eyes drift to the window. Outside, the rain poured steadily, streaking down the glass in thin, erratic lines. It had been raining all day, the kind of relentless storm that turned the world into a dull, gray blur. The sound of it was faint but persistent, a soft, rhythmic tapping that filled the silence like a heartbeat. I watched the droplets race each other down the glass, merging and splitting, their paths as unpredictable as my own thoughts. For a moment, I focused on the rain instead of the sterile cold of the room, letting its soothing monotony lull me into a false sense of calm.

Through the frosted glass of the door, I saw two figures standing in the hallway. Even distorted, Coriolanus Snow was unmistakable. His silhouette was tall and commanding, every line of his posture exuding power and control. He stood with the same unshakable composure he always carried, an aura of authority that seemed to demand respect—or fear—from anyone in his presence. Even blurred by the frosted glass, I could sense the sharpness of his gaze, the calculating mind behind those ice-blue eyes. Beside him, the doctor looked small and uncertain, his shoulders slightly hunched as he clutched his clipboard like a lifeline.

My stomach churned as I watched them. The doctor gestured faintly as he spoke, his movements stiff and hesitant, as though he were choosing his words with extreme care. Every so often, he glanced at Coriolanus, his eyes darting toward him like a child seeking a parent’s approval. Coriolanus didn’t move, didn’t respond outwardly, but his mere presence was enough to command the entire interaction. Even here, in the sterile confines of the hospital, the weight of his influence was palpable. He didn’t need to speak; his power was a constant, unspoken presence that loomed over everything.

The door opened with a soft creak, and the sound made my heart skip a beat as I straightened my posture. The doctor entered first, his expression carefully neutral, though his eyes flicked toward me with a mix of pity and reluctance. Behind him, Coriolanus followed, his movements precise and deliberate. The faint scent of his cologne—crisp and sharp, like cedar and rain—cut through the antiseptic air. He closed the door behind him with a soft click, the sound final and unyielding, much like him.

The doctor cleared his throat, the sound breaking the silence like a shard of glass. He began, his tone professional but edged with hesitation. “After reviewing your latest results…” He trailed off, his gaze flicking briefly toward Coriolanus, seeking some unspoken signal. Coriolanus gave the barest nod, and only then did the doctor continue. “It’s clear that your condition has progressed. The flare-ups are becoming more frequent, and the current medication is no longer sufficient.”

The words landed heavily, like stones dropping into my chest, one after the other. “I thought…” My voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “I thought I was getting better.”

The doctor hesitated again, his hands tightening around the clipboard. “Sometimes these conditions are unpredictable,” he said carefully, his words slow and deliberate. “We’ll need to start you on a new treatment plan. It’s a stronger medication, and while it comes with potential side effects, it should help manage the symptoms more effectively.”

I nodded automatically, the motion robotic and detached, as though my body had moved without consulting my mind. It always happened like this. Every time I thought I was making progress, every time I allowed myself a glimmer of hope, it was snatched away. Improvement followed by relapse, hope followed by despair—it was a cycle I was trapped in, and I was tired of fighting it. The thought settled in my chest like a heavy stone, cold and unyielding.

Coriolanus moved then, stepping closer to you with a deliberate grace that made your stomach tighten. He placed a hand on your shoulder, the weight of it grounding and suffocating all at once. “I know this isn’t the news you were hoping for,” he said, his voice smooth and measured, each word carefully chosen. “But this new medication will help you. I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”

The doctor handed him a folded piece of paper—the prescription—with a motion that seemed almost reluctant. His eyes met mine briefly, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I saw something in them. Pity? Regret? Whatever it was, it disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced by the same professional detachment he’d worn when he entered.

Coriolanus nodded to the doctor, his tone polite but firm. “Thank you, Doctor. That will be all.”

The doctor nodded stiffly, his movements tight and deliberate. “Take care, Miss,” he said, his voice softening slightly, though it did little to cut through the haze in my mind.

I weakly nodded again, my motions mechanical, my thoughts dulled by the weight of it all, not trusting myself to speak. The lump in my throat made it hard to breathe, and the walls of the room seemed to close in around me as I digested the information. As the doctor left, the silence that followed was suffocating. Coriolanus squeezed my shoulder gently, a subtle reminder of his presence, a silent signal to follow him.

“Come,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Let’s go home.”

I slid off the examination table, my legs feeling like lead as I moved to gather my things. The crinkle of the paper beneath me was loud in the oppressive quiet, a final jarring sound before I stepped into the hallway. As I followed Coriolanus out, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was leaving more behind than just the sterile confines of the room. Something inside of me had been left behind too, my hope.

The rain outside hadn’t let up, the steady downpour creating a symphony of soft taps against the hospital’s glass doors. As Coriolanus and I stepped into the hallway, the storm seemed louder, closer, as if the entire world were drenched in the same heavy weight pressing down on my chest. His hand never left my shoulder, its pressure firm, steering me like a ship through a tide I didn’t have the strength to resist. My feet moved in time with his, though each step felt disconnected, like I wasn’t in control of my own body anymore.

We passed room after room, the doors half-open, revealing glimpses of other patients. My eyes were drawn to them, even as Coriolanus’s hand guided me forward. In one room, a woman lay motionless in her bed, her face gaunt and pale, her thin arms resting limply at her sides. A monitor beeped steadily beside her, the sound faint but insistent, like a clock counting down. In another room, a man was hunched over in a chair, his head cradled in his hands, the kind of exhaustion on his face that spoke of battles fought and lost. The sights blurred together, each one feeding the gnawing fear in my chest. Is that my future? The thought clung to me like the rain clung to the windows, cold and inescapable.

Coriolanus’s voice broke through my haze, but it was like hearing him underwater. “We’ll have your favorite dinner tonight,” he said, his tone soft, almost kind. “And I’ll stay home with you. No work tonight. Just us.” He paused, his hand tightening slightly on my shoulder, the gesture almost possessive. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

I nodded, the motion automatic, disconnected from any real thought or feeling. A faint smile tugged at my lips, the kind of smile you give when someone expects it from you, not because you want to. My gaze remained on the passing rooms, each one a silent reminder of what could be waiting for me.

The rain was relentless, its presence enveloping the world around us as we stood in the lobby. It was louder here, the sound of it drumming against the glass walls a constant, unyielding rhythm that seemed to echo the weight in my chest. The streaks of water on the windows distorted the view of the city beyond, turning the Capitol’s towering buildings into blurred silhouettes. Their lights shimmered faintly through the storm, muted and dulled by the gray haze that cloaked everything. I couldn’t decide if the sight was calming or oppressive—perhaps it was both.

Coriolanus pulled a small communicator from his coat pocket, its polished surface gleaming faintly under the soft light. “Bring the car around,”, his voice low but carrying an unmistakable command. As he slipped the communicator back into his pocket, his gaze turned to me. His blue eyes, sharp and penetrating, scanned my face with an intensity that made me feel exposed, like he could see every unspoken thought lurking beneath the surface.

As if the moment couldn’t have come quick enough, the black car appeared, gliding to the curb like a shadow. Its polished frame gleamed under the rain, water beading and rolling off its surface in perfect, smooth rivulets. The driver stepped out swiftly, umbrella in hand, his movements quick and efficient. He was a man I’d seen countless times before but knew nothing about, his presence always hovering at the edges of Coriolanus’s world.

As he approached, I caught a glimpse of his face, illuminated briefly by the dim lights of the lobby. His expression mirrored the doctor’s earlier—a tight, strained politeness that bordered on discomfort. His eyes flicked to mine for the briefest of moments, and I thought I saw something there—something like fear, or perhaps duty so deeply ingrained it had choked out anything else. Whatever it was, it disappeared as quickly as it appeared, his gaze lowering as he came to stand before Coriolanus.

The umbrella opened with a soft snap, a shield against the unrelenting storm. Without a word, the driver handed it to Coriolanus, who took it with the kind of quiet authority that seemed to dictate every interaction around him. He held it over us, his other hand pressing lightly against the small of my back. “Go on,” he said, his voice soft but leaving no room for argument. “Get in. I’ll make sure you’re comfortable.”

I hesitated, my gaze lingering on the hospital behind me. The glowing facade loomed in the rain, its sterile, unyielding light spilling onto the wet pavement like a beacon. For a fleeting moment, I considered turning back, retreating to the cold, clinical detachment of its walls. It felt safer in its distance than the warmth Coriolanus offered—an offering that always came with invisible strings. But his hand at my back applied the faintest pressure, guiding me forward, and I found myself moving without thought.

The interior of the car welcomed me with a warmth that was almost suffocating after the cold rain. The leather seats were smooth and cool against my skin, their faint scent mixing with the ever-present cedar of Coriolanus’s cologne. He slid in beside me, folding the umbrella with a practiced ease before handing it off to the driver, who returned to his post without a word. The door closed with a soft, final thud, sealing us in from the outside world. The rain became a muted hum, a backdrop to the quiet of the car and the faint purr of the engine.

“Home,” Coriolanus instructed, his voice steady, deliberate. The driver nodded, the car gliding smoothly away from the curb.

I stared out the window, the city outside blurring into streaks of light and shadow. Neon signs glowed faintly through the rain, their reflections shimmering on the wet pavement like fragmented pieces of another world. It was beautiful in its distortion, distant and untouchable, like something from a dream. My reflection in the glass was a stark contrast—pale and tired, my eyes hollow and rimmed with unshed tears. I tried not to look at it for too long, but it lingered in the corner of my vision, a ghostly reminder of the weight I carried.

Coriolanus reached for my hand, in a gesture that was both gentle and unyielding. His thumb ghosted over my knuckles, the motion slow and deliberate, as though he were trying to coax some life back into me. With his other hand, he reached up to my hair, his fingers gliding through my curls with a softness that sent an involuntary shiver down my spine.

The car ride felt like drifting through a dream, one where the edges of reality blurred into an indistinct haze. he sound of the rain was ever-present, a steady, rhythmic patter against the car roof that merged with the faint hum of the engine. It wasn’t comforting. It wasn’t soothing. It was simply there. I stared out the window, my eyes tracing the streaks of water as they raced down the glass, but the sights outside barely registered. The city lights, distorted and shimmering, passed in a swirl of gold and silver against the wet pavement, but they felt as distant as stars in the night sky. My thoughts churned endlessly, a tangled knot of emotions too heavy to unravel. The weight of the day pressed heavily on my chest, each breath a little harder than the last. My thoughts circled endlessly, tangling into a mess of guilt, doubt, and something I couldn’t quite name. My hand rested in his, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in that slow, deliberate way, but instead of comfort, it only brought a creeping sense of suffocation. My mind spiraled, darting between the doctor’s words, the fleeting looks of pity I’d received, and the heavy, inescapable presence of Coriolanus beside me.

When the car slowed, the shift in motion barely registered. It wasn’t until the driver stopped and stepped out, the faint sound of the rain growing louder in the sudden stillness, that I realized we had arrived. Blinking as though waking from a long sleep, I glanced toward the window and caught sight of the house looming ahead. The sharp angles of its pristine white facade stood stark against the rain-heavy sky, the warm glow of its lights spilling out in quiet defiance of the storm.

A tear clung to the corner of my eye, unnoticed until I felt its chill against my cheek. I brushed it away with the back of my hand, the motion automatic and strangely detached, like it was someone else’s tear I was wiping away. The door opened, and the driver was there, his umbrella poised like a soldier at attention. His movements were precise, practiced, the kind of efficiency that spoke of discipline but also a careful avoidance of anything personal. For a moment, our eyes met, and I saw something flicker in his expression—a faint echo of the doctor’s earlier look, a blend of duty and something sharper. It was gone as quickly as it came, his gaze dropping as he held the umbrella higher, waiting for me to step into its shelter.

Once Coriolanus emerged from the car, his gaze quickly dropped from me onto the ground below me. Corioalanus’ movements were fluid and unhurried. He adjusted his coat with a subtle flick of his wrist before joining me under the umbrella’s shelter. His hand found the small of my back, guiding me toward the grand entrance as I allowed myself to be led by him. The umbrella shifted slightly above us as he adjusted it, ensuring not a single drop would fall on my head, though his shoulders were speckled with water.

The house loomed larger with each step, its towering white facade glowing faintly against the storm’s dreary backdrop. The marble steps leading to the entrance gleamed under the rain, their slick surfaces reflecting fractured glimpses of the golden light spilling from the windows. For a moment, I hesitated, my feet slowing ever so slightly as I stared at the building. It looked like something out of a painting, too perfect to be real, its grandeur almost mocking in the face of the storm. The house was beautiful, undeniably so, but tonight, it felt imposing, its towering columns and immaculate design a reminder of how small I felt within its walls. Coriolanus’s hand pressed gently but insistently against my back, breaking my reverie and guiding me forward once more.

The servant at the door opened it with practiced precision, his bow low and exact, his movements almost mechanical in their efficiency. He didn’t look at me, not really—his eyes barely skimmed over my figure before fixing on Coriolanus with the kind of deference that bordered on reverence. For a brief second, I caught the faintest flicker of emotion in his expression—a shadow of something that felt too fleeting to name. Was it pity? Resignation? I wasn’t sure, and before I could decide, the moment passed, his face smoothing into the polite neutrality of someone who had long since learned how to mask their thoughts. The rain slipped from the edges of the umbrella as Coriolanus handed it off, the sound of droplets splashing against the stone floor oddly soothing.

Inside, the warmth enveloped me instantly, a stark contrast to the chill of the storm outside. The air was thick with the scent of fresh flowers, lilies mingling with the subtle aroma of polished wood and leather. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, their golden light spilling across the polished marble floors in shimmering pools. Everything about the space was designed to impress, from the intricate molding along the walls to the soft glow of the sconces that lined the hallway. It should have been comforting, this carefully curated display of wealth and power, but instead, it felt overwhelming, the sheer perfection of it all pressing down on me like a weight I couldn’t shake. The house was beautiful, yes, but it wasn’t warm. It was pristine, a masterpiece of design, but it lacked the lived-in messiness that might have made it feel like a home.

“Rest for a while before dinner,” Coriolanus said, his voice calm and steady, yet carrying an undertone that left no room for argument. He removed his coat in one smooth motion, handing it to a waiting attendant without so much as a glance. His movements were fluid, deliberate, every gesture calculated with the precision of someone who knew exactly how much space they commanded. “You’ll feel better,” he added, his gaze settling on me with an intensity that made my breath hitch. There was no question in his tone, no suggestion that I might disagree. It was a statement, a certainty, as if my well-being were something he could dictate with his words alone.

I nodded, the motion small and automatic, as though my body were responding on its own. “Perhaps I will,” I murmured, the words slipping from my lips before I could think about them. They felt distant, hollow, as if I were borrowing someone else’s voice to fill the space between us. The corners of my mouth lifted in a faint smile, one that didn’t quite reach my eyes but seemed to satisfy him all the same. He lingered for a moment, his gaze lingering on me as though searching for something he wasn’t quite sure he’d find. Then, with a slight incline of his head, he turned and strode down the corridor toward his study, his footsteps echoing softly against the marble.

I didn’t rest. Resting felt impossible, the idea of lying in that massive bed, surrounded by soft linens and perfectly fluffed pillows, too stifling to bear. The very thought of it made my chest tighten, the weight of the day pressing down on me like a stone. Instead, I found myself drawn to the window, its towering panes offering a view of the rain-soaked grounds. The bench beneath it was soft, lined with cushions that felt almost too indulgent for the ache that had settled in my chest. I curled up there, tucking my legs beneath me and pressing my forehead lightly against the cool glass. The chill seeped into my skin, sharp and grounding, a welcome contrast to the oppressive warmth of the room

The room I slept in was so vast, Coriolanus’ way of showing me the treatment he thought I deserved, but instead I felt small here, swallowed by the grandeur of it all; a grand four-poster bed draped in silken fabrics, its headboard carved with elaborate scrollwork; a writing desk positioned by one of the room’s smaller windows, its surface empty save for a single vase of fresh flowers; a seating area complete with armchairs and a low table, the kind of space meant for quiet conversations that never happened.

The room dwarfed me, its elegance a stark contrast to the gnawing emptiness inside my chest. The air felt heavier the longer I sat, the silence pressing against my ears until even my own breath seemed too loud. I curled up tighter on the window bench, tucking my knees against my chest as if making myself smaller might somehow lessen the weight of the space around me. The glass was cool against my forehead, a sharp reminder that the world outside this cage continued on without me, unbothered by my existence.

The rain continued its relentless descent, streaking down the glass in chaotic trails that blurred the world outside. Beyond the window, the gardens stretched into the darkness, their carefully manicured edges softened by the storm. The lights of the estate shimmered faintly through the rain, their golden glow distorted into shifting patterns of light and shadow. I followed the path of a single raindrop as it slid down the glass, merging with others before disappearing from view. There was something oddly mesmerizing about it, the way it moved unpredictably, as though it held a secret I couldn’t quite grasp.

I was grateful to be home, I told myself. Grateful for the warmth, the shelter, the quiet that wrapped around me like a cocoon. Outside, the world was wild and chaotic, full of joys and freedoms I could never hope to experience. Here, within these walls, I was safe. Protected. Hidden. Yet, even as I tried to hold onto that gratitude, it felt hollow, as though the edges of it were fraying under the weight of something I couldn’t name. The house was a sanctuary, yes, but it was also a barrier—a place where the outside world couldn’t reach me, but where I couldn’t reach it either.

I stared out at the rain-soaked grounds, my gaze tracing the endless trails of water that blurred the gardens and trees into a muted palette of green and gray. Beyond the estate’s walls, the world stretched out in ways I couldn’t imagine, filled with wonders I would never see, joys I would never taste. The thought settled in my stomach like a stone, heavy and cold, pulling at the edges of my mind until it became hard to ignore. This room, this house, this carefully curated life—it was all I had ever known, and yet it felt so far removed from anything real.

Why am I here? The question slipped through my thoughts like a whisper, delicate and fleeting. My hand moved almost without thought, fingers brushing against the cold glass of the window. The coolness seeped into my skin, grounding and yet strangely distant, as though I were touching something that wasn’t really there. I watched the rain beyond the glass, its chaotic patterns blurring the world into something unrecognizable, unreachable. My fingertips lingered, tracing the faint condensation that had gathered on the surface, and I felt the weight of the thought pressing down on me.

Why am I here?

The question wasn’t just about this room, this house, or even this life. It was something deeper, a quiet ache that I had never been able to name. Was there a reason for all of this—the endless routines, the careful balance, the constant feeling of being preserved and protected like something fragile and breakable? My hand slid lower on the glass, the smooth surface unyielding beneath my touch, as if even it refused to give way to my wandering thoughts.

The doubt began to creep in, threading itself through my mind like the rain streaking down the window. What was my purpose here? Was I anything more than a burden, something to be cared for and kept out of harm’s way? The room seemed to grow larger around me, its vastness pressing in on my small, curled frame. The grand furniture, the soaring ceiling, the soft golden light—all of it felt suffocating, like a gilded cage meant to hide me from a world I would never know.

My gaze drifted back to the rain, following the erratic trails of the droplets as they merged and split, their movements unpredictable and yet strangely beautiful. I thought of the world outside, the one that carried on without me, filled with joys and freedoms I couldn’t touch. For a fleeting moment, the thought came softly, unbidden: What if I wasn’t here at all? My breath hitched, the idea settling in my chest like a stone. It wasn’t angry or desperate—just a quiet acknowledgment, a shadowy corner of my mind whispering truths I didn’t want to hear. If I disappeared, would anything really change? The rain would still fall, the house would still stand, and the world would move on, untouched by my absence.

I pressed my palm flat against the glass, the chill biting into my skin like a reprimand. The thought lingered, heavier now, and I found myself gripping the edge of the cushion beneath me, the rough texture grounding me as I fought against the pull of my own doubts. Stop it, I told myself, the words harsh and insistent. I shouldn’t think like that. I had no right to. The ache in my chest was my own burden to bear, but it didn’t mean I should give in to it.

I forced my hand away from the glass, curling it into a loose fist in my lap. The cold sensation lingered on my fingertips, a reminder of the path my thoughts had taken. “You’re better than this,” I whispered aloud, though my voice sounded small, almost childlike in the vastness of the room. I didn’t know if I believed it, but I clung to the words all the same, as though saying them aloud might make them true.

The rain continued outside, steady and relentless, its rhythm unbroken by my turmoil. I turned my gaze back to the storm, letting the endless cascade of water fill my vision. I wasn’t the rain. I wasn’t free to simply exist, to move and flow and disappear without consequence. But perhaps that wasn’t my purpose. Perhaps my reason for being here was something I couldn’t yet see. The thought didn’t bring comfort, not exactly, but it was enough to steady the trembling edges of my mind.

The world beyond the glass remained blurred and unreachable, but I stayed there, watching the rain and telling myself that the doubts would pass. They had to. For now, I would sit in this room, in this house, and try to remind myself that my place here, whatever it was, mattered—if only because I was still here to question it.

And then came the knock.

It wasn’t loud, but in the stillness, it might as well have been thunder. The sharp sound jolted me, shattering the fragile thread of calm I’d been clinging to. I pulled my hand back from the window as if caught doing something I shouldn’t, my pulse quickening as I turned toward the door. The knock came again, softer this time, followed by the hesitant creak of it opening just enough for a maid to peek through.

“Dinner is ready,” she said, her voice small and careful, almost apologetic. There was a nervous edge to her tone, as though she were unsure whether interrupting me had been the right choice. Her gaze lingered on the floor before darting upward to meet mine for the briefest moment.

I swallowed, my throat dry as I nodded. “Thank you,” I replied, the words leaving my mouth almost automatically. My voice was steady, but quieter than I expected, like the weight of my thoughts still hung over me.

The maid nodded quickly, ducking her head before retreating from the room as quietly as she had entered. The door clicked shut behind her, and the silence rushed back in, even louder than before. For a moment, I remained where I was, staring at the door as if expecting her to return. The interruption had pulled me out of my spiral, but the lingering threads of doubt still clung to me, fragile yet persistent.

I exhaled slowly, smoothing the fabric of my clothes with trembling hands. My fingers lingered over invisible wrinkles, a futile attempt to press them out as though tidying my appearance might restore some semblance of order to my mind. My reflection in the glass caught my eye, pale and uncertain, my posture slouched in a way that felt unfamiliar. I straightened my back, forcing my shoulders into a semblance of composure. You’re better than this, I told myself again, this time with more conviction.

Turning from the window, I glanced around the room, its vastness suddenly more pronounced in the dim light. The grand bed loomed in one corner, its silken sheets untouched, while the writing desk sat pristine and empty, a silent testament to a life I wasn’t living. I resisted the urge to glance back at the window, knowing that if I lingered there again, the weight of my thoughts might pull me under.

The dining room was like a scene from a painting, too perfect, too composed to feel real. The chandelier above cast a golden glow that danced across the pristine table, stretching longer than it needed to, its polished surface almost blinding under the light. Each place setting was immaculate, every fork, knife, and plate precisely where it should be. Yet the grandeur of the room felt oppressive, as if it were bearing down on me, reminding me how small I was in comparison. The rain outside provided a soft, relentless drumbeat against the windows, its sound faint but unyielding, a background rhythm to the suffocating silence.

Coriolanus sat at the far end of the table, his posture so perfect it looked carved from stone. His sharp blue eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my chest tighten, a faint smile curling at the corners of his lips. It wasn’t a warm smile, not really. It felt deliberate, calculated, as though he were allowing me a moment to think I was safe. He rested his elbows lightly on the table, his fingers steepled, his presence filling every corner of the room. The distance between us, though vast, felt suffocating. Every time I glanced up, his gaze was there, steady and unwavering, like he could see through every thought I didn’t dare voice.

The maids moved like shadows, their footsteps silent against the marble floor. One glided to my side, adjusting my chair ever so slightly, pushing it closer to the table until the edge pressed against me. Another refilled my wine glass, her hands steady, but I caught a flicker of hesitation in her movements. I muttered a soft “thank you,” but she didn’t respond, her head bowed as she stepped back into the background. I noticed the way her eyes darted briefly toward Coriolanus before returning to the floor, the faintest tremor in her hands betraying an unease that mirrored my own.

I forced myself to pick up my fork, my fingers trembling slightly. The food on my plate was a masterpiece, a delicate arrangement of colors and textures that should have been appetizing. But it felt alien, like it didn’t belong to me. Each bite turned to ash in my mouth, my stomach twisting with unease. Across the table, Coriolanus ate with deliberate precision, each movement of his utensils smooth and controlled. He wasn’t eating much; he was watching me. His gaze was too steady, too penetrating, and the longer it lingered, the more I felt like an insect pinned beneath a magnifying glass. The silence was unbearable, broken only by the faint patter of rain against the windows and the muffled shuffle of the maids moving in the background. They moved like ghosts, their footsteps barely audible, their eyes flickering toward Coriolanus with an unspoken understanding that sent a chill down my spine.

“You’ve been quieter than usual,” Coriolanus said finally, his voice soft but unnervingly sharp. He set down his utensils with deliberate care, the clink of metal against porcelain echoing like a gavel in the stillness. “Do you have nothing to say? Nothing at all?”

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, my voice trembling. “I’m just… I don’t feel well.”

He tilted his head slightly, his blue eyes narrowing. “Not well,” he repeated, his tone deceptively calm. “Is that all? Or is there something else you’re not telling me?” His smile was faint, but it carried no warmth. It was a warning, a reminder that he could see through me.

I shook my head, my hands gripping the edge of the table. “No, there’s nothing else. I just…” My voice faltered, and I dropped my gaze to my plate. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know,” he murmured, leaning back in his chair. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if he were giving me time to reconsider my words. “Interesting.”

The maids paused in their movements, their presence like shadows against the edges of the room. I could feel their unease, see it in the way their hands hovered just slightly too long over a decanter or a tray. They knew something I didn’t, something that made my stomach churn with a sense of impending doom.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I stammered, my words tumbling out clumsily. “I appreciate it, I really do. I’m just—”

“Just what?” he interrupted smoothly, his voice lowering slightly. His eyes narrowed, the faint smile on his lips disappearing as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “Tired? Distracted? Ungrateful?”

The last word hit me like a slap, and I flinched, my fingers gripping the edge of the table. “No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “I’m not ungrateful. I just—sometimes I feel—”

“Feel what?” he pressed, his voice growing quieter, more dangerous. “That this is too much? That you don’t deserve it? Or that you don’t want it?”

“No, it’s not that,” I tried to explain, but my voice cracked, betraying the panic rising in my chest. The maids moved silently around the edges of the room, their movements slowing as though they, too, sensed the shift in his demeanor. One of them hesitated by the sideboard, her hands trembling as she adjusted a tray that didn’t need adjusting.

“Then what is it?” Coriolanus asked, his words deliberate, slicing through my feeble explanations.

“Because from where I’m sitting, it seems as though you’ve taken everything I’ve given you for granted.”

The words were harsher than anything he had ever said to me, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. He had never spoken to me like this before, not even in frustration. My chest tightened, and I felt my cheeks flush with both shock and embarrassment. “That’s not true,” I said, my voice trembling. The word hung in the air like a slap, and I flinched, my hands gripping the edge of the table until my knuckles turned white. “I’m not ungrateful,” I said quickly, my voice trembling. “I’m grateful, Coriolanus. I swear I am.”

“Are you?” he asked, leaning forward now, his elbows resting on the table, his sharp gaze narrowing. His faint smile faded, replaced by an expression so cold and calculating it sent a chill down my spine. “Because from where I’m sitting, it seems as though you’ve taken everything I’ve given you for granted.”

“That’s not true,” I stammered, my pulse pounding in my ears. “I didn’t mean—”

“What did you mean, then?” he interrupted smoothly, his tone dropping an octave. “Do you think this life is too much for you? Or perhaps, you believe you don’t deserve it?”

“No, it’s not that,” I said desperately, my words faltering as I tried to explain. “I just… I don’t know. Sometimes, I feel like I don’t belong.”

The admission hung in the air like a toxic cloud, suffocating and irreversible. Coriolanus’s expression didn’t change immediately, but I saw the flicker of something dark and dangerous in his eyes. Slowly, methodically, he straightened in his chair, his movements so controlled it felt like watching a storm gather in slow motion.

“You don’t belong,” he repeated softly, almost to himself. He let the words linger, rolling them over like a bitter taste on his tongue. “After everything I’ve done for you, after everything I’ve given you, you dare to sit at my table and say you don’t belong?”

“That’s not what I meant,” I said quickly, my heart pounding so hard it drowned out the rain outside. “I just… I don’t know. I feel out of place sometimes. Like I’m not doing enough.”

“Not doing enough,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper. He shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “Do you know what it takes to ensure you have everything you need? The time, the effort, the resources? And you’re sitting here, telling me it’s not enough?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said desperately, my voice cracking. “I’m sorry,—” I said quickly, my voice cracking under the weight of his gaze. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Offend me?” he said, his voice soft but seething. “No, you didn’t offend me. What you’ve done is far worse. You’ve wasted what has been given to you, what others can only dream of having. And for what? Because you’re ‘not hungry’?” He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my stomach churn. “Do you know what it takes to provide this life for you?”

“I am grateful,” I said, my voice breaking under the weight of the moment. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “I’m grateful for everything you’ve done. I swear I am.”

“Gratitude,” he said softly, his tone turning icy as he tilted his head slightly, studying me like a predator might study prey. “Do you even know what that means? Because from where I’m sitting, your gratitude looks hollow. Empty. Like a facade you wear to appease me, nothing more.”

“That’s not true,” I whispered, shaking my head, but my voice lacked conviction. The words felt weak, fragile, like they might shatter under the weight of his scrutiny. The rain outside pounded harder, the sound merging with the thundering in my chest, a relentless rhythm of fear.

The maids froze mid-motion, their faces carefully blank, but their eyes betrayed them. I saw the unease flicker there, a shared, silent acknowledgment of something I didn’t yet fully understand. The maids exchanged glances again, their movements almost imperceptible, but I caught it. They weren’t just silent; they were terrified. One maid’s hand trembled as she adjusted a wine decanter that didn’t need adjusting, her eyes darting toward Coriolanus as though gauging when it might be safe to breathe again. The realization struck me like a blow—they had seen this before. They knew this version of him, the one that simmered with a quiet, unrelenting fury. But I didn’t. This side of him was foreign to me, and that unfamiliarity made it all the more terrifying.

Even the rain outside seemed to intensify, its relentless drumming against the windows a hollow backdrop to the suffocating stillness. My heart raced, a staccato beat that I was sure he could hear from across the room. His gaze bore into me, unflinching, cold, and I felt my breath catch as if he’d wrapped an invisible hand around my throat.

I opened my mouth, desperate to explain, to claw my way out of the pit I’d inadvertently dug, but no words came. My throat felt tight, as though invisible hands were squeezing the air from me. The maids shifted nervously, their glances darting between him and me like animals watching a predator. They seemed to know what was coming, their wary expressions a silent confirmation of what I had begun to suspect: this wasn’t the first time Coriolanus had unleashed this quiet, seething fury. But for me, this was uncharted territory, and the man sitting at the far end of the table no longer resembled the Coriolanus I thought I knew.

He raised his hand, and the nearest maid stepped forward instantly, her movements stiff but quick. “Take her plate,” he commanded, his voice calm but carrying a finality that sent a chill through the room. The maid didn’t hesitate, her hands trembling slightly as she lifted the untouched plate from the table. The absence of it felt like a blow, a visceral reminder of just how easily everything could be stripped away.

“Coriolanus,” I tried again, panic rising in my chest, but he ignored me entirely

“Quiet,” he said sharply, his tone cutting through my words like a blade. He didn’t raise his voice, but the command in it was undeniable.

He raised a hand, silencing me instantly, the gesture so precise, so commanding, that I found myself shrinking under the weight of his authority. “Take her plate,” he said, his voice calm, yet carrying a quiet menace that made my stomach churn.

The nearest maid stepped forward, her movements quick but visibly strained. Her hands trembled as she reached for my plate, her fingers brushing the porcelain as she lifted it away. The absence of the plate felt more significant than it should have, a hollow emptiness settling in its place. My chest ached with the realization of how effortlessly he could strip away something as mundane as a meal, a symbol of care now reduced to a calculated show of control.

“Coriolanus, please,” I whispered, desperation creeping into my voice, but he ignored me entirely. His cold, unrelenting gaze remained fixed on mine as though daring me to protest further.

“Take her chair,”

The scrape of wood against marble was deafening, and then, without the support beneath me, I fell hard to the ground. The impact was jarring, the cold marble biting into my knees and palms as pain radiated through my body. My breath hitched as I struggled to push myself up, my limbs trembling under the weight of my humiliation. The sound of the chair being carried away echoed in the now silent room, leaving me alone on the floor, exposed and vulnerable.

The clack of his shoes broke the silence, each deliberate step sending a fresh wave of dread through me. Coriolanus rose from his seat, his movements slow and controlled, his composure unbroken. The maids disappeared quietly through a side door, their departure as seamless as their service, leaving the two of us alone. Each footfall brought him closer, the sharp sound of his polished shoes against the marble floor growing louder, more oppressive.

“I didn’t mean it,” I whispered, my voice trembling as tears spilled down my cheeks. “I swear, I didn’t mean it.”

“Stand,” he said, the command sharp and unyielding.

I tried to push myself upright, my arms shaking as I braced them against the cold floor. My legs felt weak, useless, and I collapsed back onto my knees, my breath coming in shallow gasps. “I—I can’t,” I stammered, shame and fear choking the words as they left my lips.

His eyes narrowed, and without warning, he reached down, his hand gripping my arm with an iron strength that left no room for resistance. The suddenness of his touch made me gasp, and he hauled me to my feet effortlessly, his movements precise and controlled. My knees wobbled beneath me, my body leaning against his for balance before I quickly pulled back, trying to steady myself. His grip didn’t falter, his hand unyielding as he turned toward the door.

“This,” he said, throwing the door open with a swift motion, “is what waits for you out there.”

The storm roared beyond the threshold, the wind howling and rain slashing against the marble steps with relentless ferocity. The cold air rushed in, chilling me to the bone, and I recoiled instinctively, my arms wrapping around myself as though I could shield against the biting cold. The darkness outside stretched endlessly, a yawning void that promised nothing but chaos.

“Do you understand now?” Coriolanus asked, rising from his chair with a deliberate grace that made my knees feel weak. He circled the table slowly, his footsteps measured and purposeful, like the ticking of a clock counting down to something inevitable. “Do you see how easily everything you have can be taken away? How fragile it all is? Is that what you want?”

“No,” I sobbed, my voice breaking as I shook my head. Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the rain that clung to my skin. “I don’t want to go. Please, Coriolanus. Don’t make me go.”

“Then prove it,” he said, his voice deceptively soft, each word delivered with a measured precision that made the air around me grow colder. It wasn’t a shout or even a reprimand; it was a challenge, calculated and cutting. His tone demanded submission, his icy blue eyes pinning me in place as though daring me to contradict him. His hand on my arm tightened slightly, enough to remind me of his physical presence, his control. “Convince me,” he continued, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to an almost intimate murmur. “Because right now, all I see is someone who doesn’t understand the gravity of their position. Someone so blind, so ungrateful, that they’d rather throw away everything they’ve been given.”

My breath hitched, a shiver rippling down my spine. His words struck a chord deep inside me, each one carefully chosen to cut through my defenses and twist the knife. I tried to look away, to retreat from the intensity of his gaze, but his fingers moved to my chin, tilting my face upward with deliberate force. The gesture was controlled, not violent, but it carried a weight that made my heart pound painfully against my ribs.

“Do you think anyone else,” he continued, his tone softening but losing none of its edge, “would have done what I’ve done for you? Do you think anyone else would have kept you alive, sheltered, cared for, when the world outside would swallow you whole without hesitation?” His thumb brushed against my cheek, a movement so slight and calculated it made my stomach twist. “No,” he answered himself, his voice like steel wrapped in velvet. “No one else would. No one else could.”

I wanted to argue, to tell him that wasn’t true, but my throat felt like it was closing. Words died before they could form, and I was left trembling under his relentless gaze. “I didn’t mean it,” I finally managed to whisper, the words cracking as they left my lips. “Coriolanus, I swear, I didn’t mean it.”

“Didn’t mean it?” he echoed, his lips curving into the faintest semblance of a smile, though it carried no warmth. “Words, darling, are meaningless without action. An apology without understanding is hollow. A lie.”

“I’m not lying,” I protested weakly, my voice trembling as tears spilled over my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I swear, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t enough,” he said, his voice cool and measured, like a judge handing down a sentence. “Gratitude isn’t a word you utter when it suits you. It’s knowing your place. Knowing that without me, you wouldn’t just be lost—you wouldn’t exist.”

His words landed like a physical blow, and I felt my legs weaken beneath me. The rain outside seemed to roar louder, a violent symphony that mirrored the storm brewing in my chest. I tried to hold his gaze, but the weight of it was unbearable, and my vision blurred with tears. “I—I understand,” I stammered, the words trembling on my lips. “I do. Please, Coriolanus, I understand.”

He studied me for a long moment, his piercing gaze never wavering. His hand remained on my chin, keeping me locked in place, and I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin as he leaned in closer. “Do you?” he murmured, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Because right now, all I see is a child throwing a tantrum, blind to the reality of their situation. Blind to the lengths I’ve gone to ensure their survival.”

“I’m grateful,” I sobbed, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I am. I swear, Coriolanus, I’m grateful.”

His thumb pressed slightly against my jaw, a subtle reminder of his control, before he released me abruptly. The absence of his touch left me unmoored, trembling as I tried to steady myself. He stepped back, his icy gaze flicking over me as though assessing whether I was worth the trouble. Then, with a deliberate slowness, he adjusted the lapels of his suit, smoothing the fabric with practiced ease.

“Good,” he said finally, his voice returning to its usual controlled cadence. But then he leaned in once more, his hand catching my chin again with a sharpness that made me flinch. His eyes burned into mine, and when he spoke, his words carried a menace that froze me in place. “If you ever forget again, I’ll remind you. And you won’t like how I do it.”

I bit back a sob, nodding frantically, the tears on my face mingling with the rain still dripping from my hair. My knees threatened to give out, but I forced myself to stand, every muscle in my body trembling. His grip on my chin tightened for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing as though to drive his point home, before he finally released me. I staggered back slightly, my hands trembling at my sides.

“Clean yourself up,” he said, his voice calm now, almost indifferent. “And get back to the table. Dinner isn’t over.”

With that, he turned and walked back toward the dining room, his footsteps echoing against the marble with an unhurried grace that made the contrast between his composed exterior and my internal chaos all the more jarring. He reached the table, smoothing his suit as he lowered himself back into his seat. When he glanced up at me, his lips curled into a faint smile, as though the scene that had just unfolded was nothing more than a momentary hiccup in an otherwise pleasant evening.

I remained frozen in the doorway, trembling, my hands clenched into fists as I tried to stop the shaking. The storm outside raged on, its fury a stark contrast to the eerie calm that had settled over the dining room. The maids began to move again, their steps quiet and practiced as they brought fresh dishes to the table, their faces carefully blank. Coriolanus picked up his fork, his movements slow and deliberate, as though savoring the meal in front of him.

But his smile—it lingered, soft and satisfied, a chilling reminder that this was his world, his control. And as his words echoed in my mind—Without me, you are nothing—I realized with bone-deep certainty: He owns me. Entirely. And there’s no escape.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #coryo snow #coryo x reader #coryo x you #the hunger games #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #the heavenly collection #dark!fic #writtenbyerin #୨୧ written by erin ୨୧ #🎀 ‧₊˚ ⋅ er1nne

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'The Love Shack' Part V - The Fault Is Ours

Relationship: Neteyam(23) x fem!Omatikaya reader(21) x Lo'ak(22) Warnings: Adult content 18+ MDNI

Part V Summary: You'd prepared for Neteyam's upset, prepared for his anger, but what you hadn't prepared for or even anticipated was his complete and total disregard for you... Word count: 13.7k

Series content: Mentions of group sex, MMF threesome, smut, sex toy play, squirting, anal sex, kuru play

Read Part I, II, III and IV in my Masterlist HERE

Author's Note: My darling lovelies, I present to you the finale Chapter 5 of this series. 🥰 I never thought I'd write anything else after 'Violet Eyes', but lo and behold, here I am at the end of my fifth series. And it's honestly all thanks to you wonderful folk in this community who have supported me & brought me so much enjoyment. Without further do, enjoy this finale!

***~~~***

“I could ask you the same thing! What the fuck are you playing at?”

Lo’ak’s words rang in your ears and looped over and over in your stunned mind. Shaken and upset by Neteyam’s abrupt exit, your words had forsaken you and you’d been unable to offer immediate any answer to Lo’ak’s question apart from meekly muttered apologies.

It had very quickly dawned on you that whilst Lo’ak appeared as confused as you were, he and you were not at all confused about the same thing. You were reeling at his brother’s upset, whereas he appeared to be upset with you and confused by your actions.

You were alone in the play area currently. Lo’ak had gone into the shack’s main area to find some space and presumably warm some water for clean-up. You’d always had one of the brothers, usually Neteyam, to burrow against and snuggle up to while the other prepped the necessary things for clean-up and aftercare. The solitude tonight was new and it was unpleasant.

With Neteyam’s heated departure and Lo’ak’s apparent irritation, you felt cold, confused and abandoned.

Fat teardrops squeezed from between your lashes where you sat on folded legs on the bed, hunched over and hugging yourself. Your kept your snuffles as quiet as possible. You always felt vulnerable and frazzled after a session with the brothers. Once the extreme highs of sex and pleasure play had diminished, you were often thrown into a hormonal slump that left you feeling exposed and in need of comfort. There was no comfort today.

Neteyam had stormed off and now Lo’ak was angry with you too… You’d just wanted a parting kiss from each of them…

Your arms were crossed over your front and your fingernails dug into the flesh of your upper arms as you cried. The entire space still smelled of the activities you had engaged in with the brothers, and the scent was suddenly suffocating.

Eywa, tonight’s session had ended in disorientation and disaster… You should’ve listened to your mind’s cautioning earlier… You should’ve just said your piece and left…

Deciding it was probably best for you to leave, you crawled to the edge of the bed and stood on wobbly legs. Finding your chest covering on the floor, you secured it again over your breasts, fingers fumbling clumsily with the ties. Eyes still blurry from your tears, you swiped a hand over your face and continued to look for your loincloth.

Lo’ak re-entered the space with some cloths and a bowl of warm water. He took in your trembling and tearful state as you attempted to dress yourself again, and he sighed, “Hey, where are you going? Stop.”

“I think I should go. “You mumbled. You refused to meet his eyes, keeping your head downturned with your chin tucked against your chest, “I didn’t mean to upset you both.”

Setting down the things he was carrying, Lo’ak stopped you trying to pull your loincloth up your legs, “No, lie back down. We still need to get you cleaned up. I’m not letting you leave like this. Eywa, look at you.”

The sticky mess between your legs was trickling down your thighs. Your skin was damp with sweat and your nose was running from your tears. When you ignored his words and twisted out of his gentle hold, the remainder of Lo’ak’s patience snapped. With a growl, he took hold of you by your waist and hauled you back onto the soft bedding despite your rueful cries to leave you be.

Lo’ak watched as you curled onto your side, sobbing into your hands. He was still annoyed at what you’d done earlier, but he also recognised the emotional mess you were in after their play session. It was also obvious to him that you didn’t understand what had caused Neteyam’s upset. With another bone-weary sigh, he wet several small cloths in the bowl he’d brought in and wrung them dry.

“Shh, sweet thing. Come on, let me clean you up.” Lo’ak coaxed, gentling his voice.

He crawled onto the bedding next to you and tenderly parted your knees to sweep the cloth up your thighs and between them. Taking the other warm cloth, he folded it and placed it over your core, knowing the warmth of it would soothe the temporary swelling from their session. He wiped you down with a third cloth, the moist warmth of it smoothing over your belly, back and upper arms. He gently pried your hands from your face and he cleaned them too before dabbing at your face last.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was an unhappy squeak.

Putting the cleaning cloths aside, Lo’ak tucked himself behind your curled form, spooning you. He tucked an arm around your waist and pulled you to him, “Do you even know what you’re apologising for?”

“For upsetting you both.”

“Do you know why Neteyam took off and why I’m upset too?”

You considered his question. Great Mother, Neteyam had been furious… Things were strained enough already between the two of you and now it felt like things had broken down even further. And you’d simply kissed Lo’ak… You didn’t understand his recoil either…

You shook your head, fighting back another swelling bout of emotion, “No.”

Lo’ak cursed softly. He kept his arm around you though, wanting to soothe you still despite his frustration with you, with his brother, with the whole situation. He began measuredly, “I’m going to say my piece and I’m only going to say it once, because this whole thing, this we-don’t-talk-about-feelings shit, that you and Neteyam have going on is getting ridiculous.”

You sniffed softly, pawing at your eyes again when more unwanted tears poured forth, “Feelings can’t come into this. This arrangement was physical only.”

“Does that change the fact that they exist?” Lo’ak asked. Knowing you wouldn’t see as you were facing away from him, he gave an emphatic roll of his eyes, “Look, I know you have feelings for my brother, and I don’t think I’m speaking out of turn here because I feel like you know this already, but Neteyam returns those feelings.”

You shifted, rolling onto your back so you could scowl at him, “Where are you going with this? What does it matter?”

Lo’ak propped his head up on his elbow, responding with a glower of his own, “It matters because the bond that you share is sincere! There’s meaning there. What you and I share? That’s purely physical; just sex and body play. If you kiss me it’s because you enjoy the sensation, but there’s no meaning there.”

“So that’s why you’re angry? Because I kissed you and it doesn’t mean anything?”

An exasperated hiss left Lo’ak, his irritation rising again, “No! I’m upset because Neteyam is upset! You upset my brother, you upset me. That’s how this works.”

You could match his rising temper, however. Sick of the confusion you felt and just wanting Lo’ak to speak plainly, you spat, “So why is Neteyam upset? Things were going fine and then he decided to throw a tantrum!”

“Because you kissed me!” Lo’ak howled, frustrated by how something so simple in his eyes was so oblivious to you. Fine, he’d spell it out for you, “You said no kissing. That was the boundary that you set. You’ve denied my brother’s attempts to cross that line for weeks now. You denied him again tonight even when he asked to kiss you, and then you suddenly decide after it all to kiss me?!”

Realisation flooded you at how your actions had appeared and you were quick to refute the misunderstanding, “No! It’s not what it looks like! I wanted to kiss both of you one last time. You just happened to be closest. I was facing you so I kissed you first! But I would’ve kissed Neteyam next!”

Lo’ak emitted a miserable groan and flopped onto his back, pressing the fingers of one hand into his eyes, “Fuck, you should’ve kissed my brother first.”

You groaned and your hands flew to your face again in distress, “Great Mother, what a mess. Tell him for me when you see him? Tell him I wasn’t doing it intentionally to spite him?”

Peering through your fingers, you saw Lo’ak fix you with an incredulous expression, “I won’t be telling him anything. You’re going to explain yourself to him and the both of you are going to talk. Properly. Honestly.”

“I’ll apologise and explain what happened, but there’s nothing else to talk about.”

With a scathing laugh, Lo’ak rounded on you again, “You know that’s such bullshit, Neyomi. I know you’re in love with him.”

It was the truth. You knew it within yourself, had known it for so long now, but to hear it called out so openly by Lo’ak was a shock to your psyche. It felt like his utterance of the words had willed it into a truth so solid that no matter how much you wanted to deny it to salvage what was left of your heart, you couldn’t.

“He told me what happened that night at the hot spring, about how you denied his affection and pushed him away after. That really cut him deep.” Lo’ak added, and his tone was woeful.

Bitterly, you moved to sit upright so you could look at Lo’ak square in the eyes. You glared at him, cursing the tears that pooled in your eyes and threatened the spill, “So, what? You want me to tell Neteyam how I feel. Apologise for pushing him away, pour out my soul, and break my heart over a man I can never have?”

Understanding washed over Lo’ak at your words. There it was. The reason that had prompted your sudden change in behaviour over the last couple of moons. He’d known it wasn’t because you’d had a change of heart. You were only trying to protect yourself. Lo’ak thought of his brother’s stubbornness then, of Kiri, and their grandmother’s approval of the proposed arrangement. He chuckled.

You frowned at Lo’ak’s quiet laughter, feeling indignant and wondering if he really was cruel enough to be laughing at you right now. You hissed harshly, “It’s not funny.”

“No, no! I’m not laughing at you. It’s just this whole situation could be so easily solved if you and Neteyam actually put your egos aside to talk.” Lo’ak quickly reassured and he shook his head at you mildly with a final huff of laughter, “If there was a chance you could be with my brother, would you take it?”

Your face was still pulled deep in a frown, but the points of your ears twitched in sceptical interest, “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

Lo’ak licked his lips and ground his teeth together. It wasn’t his place to say. The arrangement was a formal one and until it was officially announced by the tsahìk, it was not to be spoken of. Clan formalities had to be observed by all and Neteyam had technically broken the rules by telling him about it.

“My grandmother is going to make a formal announcement to the clan tomorrow night at communal last meal.” Lo’ak said, and there was a particular note in his inflection that urged you to listen, that told you what he was telling you was significant, “If you truly care for my brother, you’ll speak to him afterward and you’ll tell him the truth of how you feel. Because he’s a stubborn skxawng who’s been stung one too many times now and the he won’t be honest with you unless you make the first move.”

***~~~***

You sat with Tula and some of the other female warriors, all gathered for last meal in the central gathering space of the village. You’d barely eaten anything all day and yet, as you stared at the assortment of stewed, roasted and fresh foods on your food mat, you didn’t feel even an ounce of hunger. Your anxiety had made sure of that.

It’d been a typical day of rest for the clan; families enjoyed each other’s company; friends spent time catching up over fun hobbies; children squealed and ran amok the village grounds, glad for a day off from lessons and chores. However, you’d been a tense knot of nerves all day awaiting the tsahìk’s impending proclamation.Ordinarily, you wouldn’t have been bothered. The tsahìk made all sorts of announcements all the time, but tonight’s announcement would supposedly be bringing you an opportunity, or so Lo’ak had assured.

You’d sought Tula out first thing in the morning, brimming with emotion and nerves after the mishap at the shack last night. The olo’eyktan’s family had passed you at communal breakfast and while Lo’ak had graced you with a genial grin, Neteyam had avoided acknowledging you entirely. Everything came to a head at that point.

You’d told Tula everything then about how Kai had ended things, how you’d confronted Neteyam at the shack and what came after. You’d cried in her arms over how you’d inadvertently slighted Neteyam and told her of what Lo’ak was urging you to do. To your surprise, Tula had sided with Lo’ak’s view on things.

What followed was a day of forced, but blessed pampering from your best friend. Tula had taken you down to the bathing springs, where she’d treated you to one of her wonderful back rubs with sweet oils, before she helped you to undo your tightly braided hair for washing. She had cooed and clucked over you, slathering you in all sorts of balms and creams that would help reduce the puffiness of your eyes, relax you and smoothen your skin.

Your hair fell loosely around your ears and shoulders now, luscious and silky from Tula’s various herbal conditioning treatments. Your skin felt smooth like baby’s bottom and she’d dowsed you in a scented oil to help promote calmness. She’d plucked several sun lily blooms from their stems on the walk back to the village and threaded them through your locks, remarking with a flourish that the vivid indigo hue of the flowers set off the rest of your more casual look perfectly.

“You’re quiet this evening, Neyomi. You look beautiful by the way.” Silwey observed, smiling at you from across the gathered circle of women.

The other female warrior’s smile was polite and you forced as genuine a smile back at her in return. Silwey was beautiful too, very beautiful. She had the kind of classic beauty that all the old women harped on about. The kind of loveliness that would make most men drool and gawk.

“Thanks, Tula did a fantastic job on me, as always.” You replied, picking at a small morsel of meat and popping it into your mouth.

“Not that you don’t always look beautiful though, but there’s just something about today’s look that really flatters.” Another female, Kanoa, added brightly.

“Kai is a lucky man.” Silwey chortled. You nearly choked on your food.

Clearing your throat gently, you shrugged self-consciously at Silwey, “Ah, Kai and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realise.”

“It’s alright. The split is fairly fresh, but it was mutual.”

Clearly feeling bad for catching you out on an awkward subject, Silwey attempted to cheer you up, “Well, whoever catches your eye next will be a very lucky man.”

The women all murmured in cheerful agreement. Even Tula, who was doing a great job of pretending that she was unaware of the real reason for your disquiet. You mustered up a kind smile at Silwey to reassure her you’d taken no offense. You wondered if she would’ve been as kind if she knew that the man who’d caught your eye was Neteyam…

Absently, you wondered if Neteyam had sought Silwey out on her own again in the weeks you’d stopped going to the shack. You were well aware of Silwey’s romantic interest in Neteyam, especially after her last bold proposition to him all those weeks ago on the very day that had led to your evening spent with Neteyam at the hot spring. The thought of him with Silwey pained you, and you forced the thought from your mind.

A chorus of soft hushing and murmurs rippled through the gathered Omatikaya then and you saw the tsahìk step up onto the raised platform by the bonfire. She raised her arms and the clan fell obediently into silence.

“Brothers and sisters! I thank you all for gathering this night, may Eywa bless us in our communion.” Mo’at called out, her voice carrying strongly over the crowd, “A proposal was brought to me for consideration not long ago, by our olo’eyktan, regarding the traditions our people have long held about how our clans are led. Tradition has always decreed that our peoples be led by a mated pair, olo’eyktan and tsahìk, unified and blessed in the eye of Eywa.”

Your heart was beginning to pound in your chest, impatient for the tsahìk to get to the crux of her proclamation.

Mo’at continued, “But in recent generations, this has not always been so. Indeed there are other clans where the leading pair are not mated to each other, instead leading their people through an agreed partnership. Even for us Omatikaya, things have changed with the coming and subsequent defeat of the Sky People.” She turned astute eyes at her family, at Jake and Neytiri in particular, “I have retained my position as tsahìk because my daughter chose a warrior’s path, while my son-in-law Jake leads us as chief. But I am getting old now.”

Muted murmurs of curiosity were rising within the crowd, all keen to hear what their tsahìk was about to say.

Mo’at raised her arms again and she gestured this time for two others to join her on the platform. Neteyam ascended at her beckoning closely followed by his sister, Kiri.

Mo’at smiled warmly at her two grandchildren, placing a hand on each of their heads in blessing before addressing the crowd again, “Our line of succession has not changed. Neteyam will still succeed his father as olo’eyktan in time to come. However, I have prayed to our Great Mother recently and she has shown me who is to walk the path of tsahìk after me. As many of you have experienced for yourselves, our Kiri is gifted and Eywa’s voice has whispered to her since she was barely more than a babe. Our Great Mother has chosen and Kiri will fulfil the role of tsahìk when my time comes to pass!”

A current of emotion washed through the clan, all susurrating and murmuring, some excitedly and others confusedly.

“Wait, what?” Kanoa breathed, “Kiri will lead with Neteyam?”

“Yes.” Silwey affirmed, “She will be tsahìk and Neteyam will be olo’eyktan alongside her.”

Mo’at’s voice rang out again and she continued, “I hereby declare Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan and Kiri te Suli Kireysi’ite our Omatikaya successors! They will choose their own respective mates, but they will lead this clan in time, brother and sister in partnership!”

Neteyam and Kiri clasped hold of each other hands then and they raised their arms in affirmation of their partnership before the people. The Omatikaya roared their approval, clapping, howling and ululating their joy.

They will choose their own respective mates… Mo’at’s words rang in your ears amidst the din the clan was making around you. Tula clutched at one of your knees, beaming at you happily at what the proclamation meant for you: A chance to love, truly and freely.

Your gaze drifted to the rest of the Sully family standing by the foot of the platform. You caught Lo’ak’s eye and he smirked at you, his eyes twinkling with meaning. This was what he’d meant last night. You recalled his question to you: If there was a chance you could be with my brother, would you take it?

You knew your answer: Absolutely.

The thrilled yammering of the warrior women around you brought you back to the present.

“So he can choose any woman he wants now. Not necessarily one of the healer women.” Kanoa’s voice was an energised whisper and she giggled girlishly at her words.

“Yup, sounds like it.” Another warrior, Neneka said, “Great Mother, have mercy on my soul for saying this, but I’d love to get under Neteyam, you know what I mean? He watches and plays around a bit at the old outpost, but he’s not as unreserved as Lo’ak is.”

You froze when you realised what the topic of the conversation had turned to among the women. Eywa, you didn’t want to hear about other women’s experiences with him…

“Yeah, he’s picky.” Kanoa sighed dreamily, “I bet he’s a generous lover though. Someone here is lucky enough to know.” She elbowed Silwey and burst into another fit of kittenish giggles.

“Hey, stop it. I’m not going to kiss and tell.” Silwey replied, laughing and swatting lightly at Kanoa. She pursed her lips sassily then and she gave a sly narrowing of her eyes, “But he’s an incredible time. That’s all I’ll say.”

The warrior women crowed with laughter at their gossipmongering and your food looked very interesting all of a sudden. You picked at the offerings on your food mat, eating a few mouthfuls and concentrating hard on the burst of savoury flavours on your tongue in a bid to drown out the awful conversation around you. You could feel Tula’s concerned eyes peering at you, but you kept to yourself.

“Well, I’m going to go and congratulate Kiri.” Tula pronounced, trying to change the subject. She pushed off her heels to stand, “Kiri is the one who’s been formally confirmed into her role tonight. It’s not all about Neteyam.”

“That’s true. Good idea.” Silwey agreed, rising to her feet along with the other women. She tittered boldly and then added, her tone brazen, “I’ll congratulate Kiri and then perhaps see if Neteyam would like some private company tonight too.”

The women snickered and began making their way towards the platform to offer Kiri their felicitations. You shook your head at the mob of them as they left. Eywa, the women were as bad as the men were with their egging and bragging of sexual conquests…

Tula lingered behind, staying with you. She crouched down next to you and reached out to squeeze your shoulder, “Don’t pay any attention to them. Eyes on the prize. You have a meaningful conversation that you need to have with Neteyam tonight. And it could change everything.”

“I know.” You sighed, looking over your shoulder where Kiri and Neteyam stood by the front of the platform, surrounded by a throng of well-wishers, “It’s just- I think I really hurt him last night.”

“There are two sides to every story. He’s not exactly been forthcoming with you either. You both need to just clear the air and get everything out in the open.”

“Thanks for everything today. Thanks for listening.” You shot Tula an appreciative smile, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Tula’s answer was a smile and a wink, but her face twisted into an unimpressed grimace when she looked to the front of the platform again, “Better work fast, babe. Silwey’s got dessert on her mind tonight.”

Sure enough, you saw Silwey whispering into Neteyam’s ear when you cast another glance over your shoulder. It was now or never. You needed to get Neteyam alone and you were going to swallow your pride and tell him everything. Dusting your hands off, you rose to your feet, intent for the throng of people gathered at the front.

Politely excusing yourself as you stepped past families and groups of friends, you weaved through the crowd and passed the crackling bonfire on your way. You made for Kiri first, wanting to congratulate the other woman. You had never spoken much to Kiri, but you were acquaintances through her brothers. Being a warrior by profession meant that you had more to do work-wise with Neteyam and Lo’ak than with Kiri, who was of course a healer and spiritual leader by trade.

Finally making it to the newly appointed tsakarem (tsahìk in waiting), you greeted Kiri politely, making the appropriate gesture with your fingers splaying out from your forehead, “Oel ngati kameie, Kiri. Congratulations on your appointment. The clan rejoices and thanks you for your service.”

Kiri’s answering smile at your greeting was enigmatic, her large golden eyes bright and perceptive, “Ngati kameie nìteng (I see you also), Neyomi. Thank you for your kind words.”

You mused quietly to yourself that Kiri already seemed to have the piercing look of a tsahìk down perfectly. The other woman was unfazed as she openly eyed you from your face, down your torso and legs, and then back up to your face again. She cocked her head at you then, eyes in a slight squint, “The tsawksyul blooms are a nice touch in your hair. Beautiful.”

“Irayo (thank you).” You thanked her, realising awkwardly that you really didn’t know what else to say to Kiri. You were also wilting a little under her penetrating gaze, so you spluttered a parting blessing, “May Eywa bless you and keep you always.”

Kiri nodded, the short and wispy ends of her short hair swaying where they framed her lovely face. Her eyes flitted to Neteyam who stood several paces to her right, surrounded by what could only be described as a gaggle of fawning women. Your own eyes followed Kiri’s, taking immediate note of the fact that Silwey was closest to him and that she’d curled a covetous hand around one of his biceps, her side pressed against his.

“I expect you’ll want to get my brother’s attention now that his pool of choice has widened.” Kiri began, moving closer to you so she could speak into your ear, “Like the rest of these eager vultures.”

Her disdain was clear in her tone and you shifted uneasily on your feet. You shook your head to refute her statement, not wanting to be reduced or likened in any way to the notion of a shallow, insipid woman, lusting after a man of high standing.

“I do need to speak to Neteyam, but it’s important. An apology actually.” You replied, hoping your candour would prove your sincerity to his intimidating sister.

With one last cock of her head and a piercing stare that made you feel like she could see you inside and out, the warm smile that Kiri graced you with next was unexpected, “My brothers speak highly of you, as do the warriors in your platoon. Eywa ngahu (May Eywa be with you), Neyomi.”

You dipped your head in acknowledgement and Kiri’s attention was quickly pulled away by another clan member wishing to congratulate her. With a deep breath, you refocused on your objective.

Neteyam was speaking to four women, all smiles and laughter as they conversed. You managed to place yourself in a gap between two of them, just big enough for you to slip into without needing to push anyone. It placed you directly in his line of sight, but if you thought he was going to acknowledge you, even out of courtesy given there were others surrounding him, watching him, you were wrong.

Mild irritation flared in your gut and you continued to look at him, trying to catch his eye. However, Neteyam’s gaze studiously avoided yours while he spoke in turn to the others, even quirking a small smile at Silwey when she leant her cheek against his shoulder. Your distress was sharp behind your sternum at the sight, but you were determined.

You cleared your throat audibly, causing a lull in the conversation as the women turned to look at you. You seized the opportunity, “Excuse me. Neteyam, can I have a moment? I need to speak to you.”

Finally, for the first time that day, his amber orbs clashed with your own. There was no warmth in them though, no emotion. Just pure impassiveness that sent a dreadful shudder through you.

“If it’s about work, it can wait until tomorrow morning.” Neteyam’s response was clipped.

His icy demeanour was cutting. You’d expected him to be upset, but not like this, not cold and unfeeling. “It’s not work-related, but it’s important.”

“Sorry. I’ve got plans tonight.” More callous brusqueness.

This was an unexpected hurdle. You hadn’t anticipated his refusal to speak to you. You’d prepared for his upset and for his anger, but not for his complete and utter disregard. A painful lump was forming in your throat and you swallowed it down tightly.

Keeping a tight rein on the brewing storm of your emotions beneath the surface, you maintained your careful mask of composure and tried again, “Neteyam, please. I only need a few moments.”

“No, I’ll catch you another time.” It was a clear dismissal.

You weren’t going to beg, not in front of everyone. You would swallow your pride, but not to the extent of abandoning all of your dignity.

Silwey was frowning at you, puzzled displeasure colouring her features, and the other women appeared equally uncomfortable at the awkward exchange. The telltale hot flush of humiliation was beginning to tingle and burn on the skin of your face. You regarded Neteyam’s hard gaze one final time before you turned and excused yourself from the group.

The world around you became surreal, the noise of the gathered clan becoming a dull hum as you ambled on numb feet back the way you came. You could feel your composure beginning to fracture, the turbulent storm within you threatening to spill, and with the first breath that hitched painfully in your chest, you broke into a sprint in the direction of your home shelter.

You needed somewhere safe and away from prying eyes for the dam to burst… For the upheaval of your emotions to come pouring out…

Your eyes stung and your vision blurred with the uncontrollable arrival of your tears. An onslaught of sobs besieged you next and you tore the sun lily blooms from your hair as you ran, pawing at the wetness streaming from your eyes. Evidently what had happened last night at the shack had been the last straw for Neteyam. You cried at the unfairness of it all.

You finally had a chance, but now it seemed that Neteyam was unwilling to grant it to you…

Someone was calling your name, the thud of heavy footfalls catching up to you. You ignored their calls, pumping your legs harder to increase your speed.

A strong hand hooked around your elbow, slowing you with a jolt and you attempted to spiral away, “No! Leave me alone!”

Another hand clasped hold of your other arm and your pursuer spun you in their arms to face them. Your forearms collided with a muscled chest and for a split second your mind tricked you into believing that Neteyam had come after you, but as your blurry gaze lifted to the man’s face you recognised who it really was.

Wrong brother. Lo’ak.

Lo’ak’s expression was cross, but you knew his irritation was not directed at you as he shushed you softly, “Hey, it’s alright, sweet thing.” He gave you a brief but tight hug before pulling away and fixing you with determined eyes, “Listen to me, OK? You have to keep it together. Go to my family’s shelter and wait there. Let yourself in, no one is home. They’re all still eating.”

Only half paying attention, you stammered, “W-What? Why?”

“Because I’m sick of this back-and-forth! You and Neteyam are going to talk. Tonight.” Lo’ak pressed insistently. He squeezed your arms gently in reassurance, “Go wait in my family’s shelter. I’ll get my brother.”

“He’s got plans.” You had meant to sound unpleasant, had meant for your voice to be a grating rasp, but what came out was an unsteady warble of words.

A harsh scoff left Lo’ak and he was already turning to jog back towards the crowded throng, “Nope, trust me. He doesn’t. Not if I have anything to say about it. Go! And stay there!”

***~~~***

A cacophony of grunts, thuds and slaps filled the woodland air as the brothers brawled off the main village pathway behind some shrubbery.

Neteyam hadn’t appreciated Lo’ak’s brisk interruption just as he and Silwey had been making their way to a quieter spot for the evening. He’d refused his brother’s ‘urgent’ request to return home at first, until Silwey had sensed the quickly rising strain between the pair and had grudgingly excused herself with a plea for him to seek her out later once the ‘emergency’ had been resolved. Neteyam had known exactly what his brother was doing, had known that there wasn’t a ‘family emergency’ at all, since their entire family could still be seen enjoying their dessert of fruit by the bonfire.

Spiteful comments were exchanged, hissing taunts were made and in the end, it was Lo’ak who’d thrown the first punch out of frustration.

The pair of them tussled, no longer upright on their feet, but wrestling on the moss-covered ground instead. It was a violent tangle of arms and legs. Neteyam had almost succeeded in his attempt to pin Lo’ak, when his younger brother threw a stinging punch, his fist colliding painfully with his jaw. A wounded groan left him and Lo’ak seized the opportunity, rolling to flip his brother onto his back in a pin.

Neteyam’s eyes were scrunched closed and his face was contorted into a pained grimace. Their bodies were robust with strong bones and tough skin, but the pain was always sharp and the bruising would show.

“You done, bro?” Lo’ak snarled, spitting a build-up of saliva and blood on the ground to his side.

Breathing hard, Neteyam fought a throbbing jaw to crack open his eyelids.

Lo’ak could see his brother was still angry, but the vehemence of Neteyam’s ire had dissipated after their brawl. He felt his brother pat his thigh in a gesture of submission and he shifted his weight so Neteyam could sit upright. Lo’ak rose gingerly to his feet, his hip aching a little from a rapid roll that Neteyam had executed earlier. He extended a hand out to his older brother who took it, pulling himself to his feet.

Fisticuffs had never been a regular occurrence between them. Not even when they’d been young boys. Lo’ak had always excelled at being the problematic, troublesome younger brother, but Neteyam had kept hold of his maturity and patience most of the time. They’d only ever had a handful of fistfights in their lives and they’d all been over significant issues. And it was fair to say that tonight’s issue was significant.

“I won’t let you run from this.” Lo’ak declared, wiping the stray dribble of blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of a hand, “I’ve always been the stupid, reckless one, and you’ve always looked out for me. Well, I’m returning the favour. She’s worth it, bro.”

Reminded of the reason for their brawl in the first place, Neteyam gritted his teeth and closed his eyes with a deep exhale through his nose. He didn’t want to talk to you… He figured that you felt bad, that you wanted to apologise… but he was past simple apologies now… He didn’t want to face you if you were just going to seek forgiveness and then go back to your life without him…

“There’s nothing to be said. She’s made herself clear that she isn’t interested.” Neteyam muttered severely, massaging at his own tender jaw with cautious fingers.

“I’m fucking done hearing that from both of you!”

“And I’m fucking sick of saying it! She won’t kiss me but she’ll happily kiss you! Things are pretty damn clear to me!”

“That was a misunderstanding, and she’ll explain it herself if you let her! For once in your life, can you just trust me on this?!” Lo’ak exclaimed, exasperated, “I’m not the one being the skxawng ass right now! You and Neyomi have tiptoed around each other for weeks! So I’m staging an intervention. Forced discussion!” The blood continued to build-up in his mouth and he cursed again with another spit to his side. He’d taken an elbow in the teeth from his brother at some point and he was quite sure that one of his teeth had loosened.

“Sorry.” Neteyam mumbled somewhat contritely.

“It was a good move with your elbow, very fast.” Lo’ak conceded, huffing out a laugh. However, his face returned to its sombre expression then, “Maybe you and Neyomi will both find it in yourselves to apologise to one another tonight too.”

Neteyam’s only response was a bitter snort. He was aware Lo’ak had spoken to you last night after he’d fled the shack. His brother had been scant on the details this morning, but he’d insisted that what had happened was a misunderstanding and that he needed to speak to you. Still smarting from your denial the previous night, Neteyam had promptly let Lo’ak’s words in through one of his ears and out the other, not intending at all to follow through.

When Neteyam didn’t say anything more, Lo’ak inveigled him, “Look, she wants to talk and clear the air. You both have some serious shit you need to say to each other and I’m not going to keep playing messenger between you.”

An image of you from earlier in the evening flitted to the forefront of Neteyam’s mind. He saw you with your hair loose and un-braided, the long strands falling to frame your face and trailing to tickle your shoulders and upper back. You had three tsawksyul blooms threaded into your locks behind your ears. You’d looked so beautiful... The next image was of the wounded look on your face when he’d denied your request to speak him in a callous dismissal in front of the others. The hurt that flashed in your eyes had been plain to see, and it had felt good to know that he’d hurt you, that he’d given you a taste of your own medicine.

“Where is she?” Neteyam queried quietly.

“Back at our family’s shelter. I asked her to wait there.”

Moistening his lips, Neteyam took a deep breath and set off back towards the main village path. He felt rotten now for upsetting you. Yes, you’d hurt him, but it didn’t make things any better for him to have hurt you in retaliation.

“Bro,” Lo’ak called out, making Neteyam stop in his tracks, “Don’t make things so hard, OK? Be honest. Open up to her. You might be surprised at what you find.”

With a sideways glace at his brother, Neteyam nodded, “Yeah.”

***~~~***

You sat on your folded legs on the floor of a smaller alcove in the Sullys’ home, waiting anxiously to see if Lo’ak would succeed in his endeavour to persuade Neteyam to speak to you. It hadn’t been a very long while, but it had certainly been long enough that you were starting to worry that perhaps Neteyam had remained unyielding.

You’d let yourself into the Sullys’ home shelter like Lo’ak had instructed and you’d proceeded to drift about awkwardly as you took the space in. Their shelter was much bigger than the standard ones most families lived in. Perks of being the chief’s family, you supposed. It had a much more spacious living area and the alcoves branching off the main space, that served as each individual’s private area, were also bigger than usual.

Trinkets and decorations both of Na’vi and human origin adorned the shelter, speaking to the mixed heritage of the family. Tinkling wooden chimes hung from the joists that held the shelter up. Homely furniture and utensils were set about the space on thick woven rugs, and little paper images of the family (which you’d come to learn were called photographs) were displayed here and there.

You’d ambled about, quietly admiring the place but too nervous to touch anything out of respect. Your nose had led you to one of the alcoves in particular, Neteyam’s familiar scent wafting from it like an appealing perfume that called to every nerve and cell in your body. A sense of comfort had washed over you and you’d settled yourself on the floor rug in his alcove to continue your wait.

Everything about the alcove screamed Neteyam, from the neatly made bedding to the well-ordered layout. His elegant bow and weaponry were systematically arranged against one side, long knives, spears and daggers hanging from a sturdy looking frame. Tidy piles of fabric and clothing sat nestled in a wooden chest, and a small but ornate dresser sat on the far side with his personal jewellery and knick-knacks. Your own alcove looked like a haphazard hovel in comparison, but whenever your mother complained of the mess, you always maintained that you found comfort in your chaos.

As another wave of apprehension consumed you, you inhaled deeply through your nose and let your breath whistle out from between your lips. Your gaze fell to your clasped hands in your lap. You knew what you wanted to say. You’d rehearsed the words over and over in your mind the whole day. You just needed a chance to say them. A pang of hurt lanced through your chest at your recollection of Neteyam’s callous dismissal. You hoped that you’d get that chance tonight.

The draping flaps at the entrance of the shelter swished apart then and your head snapped upright with a gasp to see Neteyam enter the space. Another gasp left you when you took in the few purpling bruises on his ribs and jawline, visible even in the lambent glow of the firelight in the central hearth.

You were on your feet and marching up to him in an instant, concern in your voice, “What happened?” You raised a gentle hand to his face, wanting to examine his jaw, but he flinched away from your touch.

“Lo’ak said you were waiting here to talk. He was very persuasive with his fists.” Neteyam replied and his tone was harsh and tight.

Your lips settled into an unhappy line. Your gaze dropped to Neteyam’s clenched fists by his sides and you spotted the telltale cuts on his knuckles that indicated the fight certainly wasn’t one-sided. You felt another sharp pinprick of hurt that the brothers had gotten into a physical disagreement over your request to speak to Neteyam. Did he really loathe you that much now that he’d fought with Lo’ak over this?...

Neteyam stood motionless while he watched your various emotions flit across your face. He noted the absence of the sun lily blooms from your hair, noted the downturn of your ears, the stickiness of your cheeks and the shine around your eyes. You’d been crying... Guilty regret bloomed in his gut, but his pride was quick to quash it. He was hurt too, hurt by your previous denials. Tears may not have left his eyes but that didn’t mitigate the fact that you’d hurt him too with your rejections.

Your heart thumped in your chest, blood pounding in your ears as you watched Neteyam wait for you to say something. His gaze was cold and the impatient swish of his tail was telling.

Now, in the moment, with the chance you wanted presented to you, the words you’d repetitively rehearsed earlier seemed to have abandoned you entirely. Desperately trying to tamp down the panic that was rising, you heartened yourself. Now or never, Neyomi!

“I’m sorry.” The words were a sticky croak in your throat and you cleared it softly before continuing, “I didn’t mean for last night to end like it did. The truth is, I wanted to kiss you both one last time. Lo’ak just happened to be closest to me. I would’ve turned to you after.”

“Uh huh.” Neteyam’s response was sceptical and he felt his irritation beginning to rise. It was certainly a very convenient explanation on your part… You’d wanted to kiss him too? After all your rebuffs and refusals, he found it incredibly hard to believe.

You sensed his disbelief and you pressed your point further, “I’m not just saying that, I mean it. I didn’t do it to mock you or hurt you. I was so spaced out and I wasn’t really thinking things through. I’m sorry, really I am.”

“Yeah, OK. You’re forgiven.” Neteyam said with a shrug, feigning insouciance in a bid to disguise his hurt. He didn’t really forgive you. He felt far too wounded to excuse your actions so easily, but he was growing more and more uncomfortable in the thick tension that surrounded you both and he wanted out of there. If what you wanted was to apologise and seek his forgiveness then you’d done that. Conversation over. “If that’s all you needed to say then you’ll need to excuse me. Someone’s waiting for me.”

The nonchalance Neteyam was displaying made you feel equal parts sad and angry. Here you were being sincere, wanting to start an honest discussion and he wasn’t even trying. It felt as if he was here just so he could tell Lo’ak he’d spoken to you, when nothing about his manner or his words was genuine. Neteyam’s frame was already turned halfway away from you, his intention to leave clear.

Your annoyance spiked, emboldening you and you hissed, “No, I’m not done. Don’t walk away from me.” Especially not to run back into Silwey’s arms…

Pausing in his steps, Neteyam gritted his teeth and his injured jaw throbbed painfully. He turned to face you again with pinned ears and unimpressed eyes, “What else?”

He watched your as your breaths began to deepen and a frown marred your lovely face. You were so impossibly beautiful even when you were angry, and the thought only further infuriated him in that moment. Lo’ak’s words echoed in the recesses of his mind; be open, be honest. But what did his brother expect him to do? Pour his heart out to you? He’d done that once before the night of the hot spring, and you’d thrown his affection back in his face.

Your next words were uncanny, as if you had somehow read his thoughts.

“I’m sorry also for how I reacted that night at the hot spring.” You stated, making a conscious attempt to stop your irritation from colouring your expression. You wanted to appear sincere and you didn’t think an apology delivered with a scowl would achieve that. “It wasn’t my intention to hurt your feelings then either, and I’m sorry if I did.”

Neteyam wasn’t making the same effort though and his words were muttered through clenched teeth, “Again, you’re forgiven.”

Your tail hung low between your legs and you frowned at him, upset, “You’re just saying that. I’m trying to tell you that I’m genuinely sorry and you’re just going through the motions!”

The monster of his pain that Neteyam had spent the last couple of moons trying to restrain reared its ugly head in full force. He didn’t want your apologies. He wanted you. But just as he couldn’t force you to feel for him what he felt for you, your apologies couldn’t force his earnest forgiveness from him either.

“Well, a genuine apology doesn’t always earn genuine forgiveness, especially when forgiveness isn’t ready to be granted on the forgiver’s part!” Neteyam cried in a bitter shout. He saw you gulp and recoil slightly at his raised voice, but he’d uncorked the bottle of his tumultuous emotions now and after being pent up for so long, his words poured from him in an inexorable stream, “Do you know what it’s like to want someone, to be around them every day, to be so close to them and know what their body feels like, tastes like, and yet have to live with the fact that they don’t want you the same way?! You know, if all you wanted from me was the pleasure of my body, then so be it! I’ll accept that and I’ll get over my feelings in time. But don’t expect me to forgive you now when I’m not ready to do that!”

His shouting startled you at first, but you were quick to recover. He wasn’t the only one who could be loud.

“It’s not just your body I want!” You shrieked in return, and it was Neteyam’s turn to wince. You advanced on him and he took a few steps back as you gained on him until he was backed against one of the shelter’s support beams. “And yes, I know exactly what it’s like to want someone and feel like you can’t have them because that’s how I’ve been feeling too, you skxawng!”

You were so close to Neteyam now that your chin was tilted up defiantly while you held his gaze. He was glaring down at you in return, his broad chest heaving with his own resentment. You were both reeling from each other’s words, both your brains working frantically to process the situation. However, rationality was hard to find when emotions were running high, especially when what felt good in the moment was to spew blame and point fingers.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the tsahìk’s arrangement with Kiri?” You demanded hotly.

“What difference would it have made?” Neteyam snarled, “Besides, you avoided me for weeks! You were impossible to get hold of and then you went and started fucking Kai!”

“It would’ve made all the difference!” You screeched, “And don’t bring Kai into this! I never put any restrictions on you or Lo’ak while our agreement was in place. I never stopped either of you from carrying on with your other play nights with the other women!”

“I haven’t been with anyone else since you! Despite everything, all I want is you!”

“Me too!”

Both his words and yours were shouted and the sound reverberated in the hollow confines of the shelter. You sagged as if suddenly tired from the emotional tirade of the last while, and you saw the remnants of Neteyam’s ire gradually seep from his own furious expression. The truth of the situation struck you both with such stark clarity that it stunned you both into deafening silence.

Neteyam was the first to break the silence. He gave a slow shake of his head and he closed his eyes, trying to make sense of it all, “Wait, what? So why did you pull away that night at the spring? And then you avoided me and stopped coming to the shack when you start seeing Kai.”

“Because I was scared.” You murmured, and the memory of your sleepless nights filled with heartsick despair brought unbidden tears to your eyes. You blinked wet eyes up at him and your tears escaped at the action.

Neteyam hated the sight of your tears, especially now that he was the cause of them. He sighed wearily. Tenderness swelled in his chest and he cupped one of your cheeks with a gentle hand, smoothing away the rolling bead of moisture with his thumb. His deep voice was soft and gentle when he spoke, a direct contrast to his harsh bellows from before, “Scared of what?”

“Of falling for you.” You gave a wet laugh and continued your explanation, “You will be olo’eyktan of this clan one day. By tradition your mate must be worthy of being tsahìk. That was never going to be me. I ran because I was in too deep already. I wanted to keep what I had left of my heart, but I realised after that it was too late anyway.”

Neteyam stifled a curse under his breath. The arrangement of Kiri becoming tsakarem hadn’t been confirmed yet at the time. His grandmother had still been deliberating and praying about it when the night at the hot spring had occurred, but the decision had been made not long after. Perhaps if he hadn’t been so wounded by your actions, if he’d listened to his brother and been more persistent in getting hold of you, this current situation may not have spiralled so out of hand.

“Fuck, I should’ve said something.” Neteyam lamented with a groan, tilting his chin down to rest his forehead against yours, “I was just so convinced that you didn’t feel the same way and that telling you would just result in another rebuff. Especially since you still came to the shack to play for but refused to kiss me.”

“I wanted to, so much.” You whispered with a sniffle, your nose brushing his lightly, “I tried with Kai, but there was no spark there. All I could think about was you. How could I not want all of you? You’re everything I want. I wanted to protect my heart but it broke anyway trying to stay away from you.”

Your words ended in a mewling sob and Neteyam enveloped you in his arms, crushing you to him. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, the comforting warmth of his body only seeming to make you cry harder.

“Shhh, I’m sorry too.” Neteyam soothed, running a large hand up and down your back while the other cupped your head against him, “I’ve been a fool and I’m so sorry.”

Remorse and shame flooded him as he reflected now on the past while. Hindsight was always 20/20. Great Mother, you’d both been so stupid... You’d both been on the same trajectory all along, except you hadn’t seen a conceivable way forward and while he had, knowing of the arrangement with Kiri, your fear and your avoidant behaviour had caused him to misunderstand and unwittingly hide the solution from you.

He pressed a kiss to your temple, loosening his hold when he felt you shift to peer up at him.

Dabbing at your nose and eyes with the back of your hand, you apologised for your appearance, “Sorry, I probably look a mess.”

Neteyam emitted a scoff and graced you with a warm smile. His hands framed your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks, “No, you’re beautiful even when you cry, paskalin. I’ll claim that kiss that you owe me now, if that’s alright?”

With a giggle, you agreed.

Sliding your palms up his chest to wind your arms around his neck, you pushed up onto the balls of your feet to meet his lips in a smooth and plush meld. It was different to how you’d imagined it would be last night, in your dazed state of overstimulation and arousal. When you’d decided on sharing one last kiss with Neteyam and Lo’ak, you’d been dejected and you’d expected the kiss to be filled with an air of sad finality. But your kiss with Neteyam now burned bright with hope and promise.

Pulling away gently, Neteyam’s smile was wide and you could see your own happiness mirrored in his golden orbs. He nuzzled your cheek affectionately, rubbing his cheek along yours while you did the same. You felt lighter than you had in a long time, the blooming warmth of your joy radiating from your heart out towards your limbs and extremities. After so many miserable nights and awkward days, the relief and thrill of knowing that feelings were requited on both sides was wonderful.

Neteyam pressed a chaste kiss to your lips and he declared, “I want to court you, openly. I want every man and woman in this clan to know that you and I are seeing each other. No one else, no more shack visits with Lo’ak.”

You couldn’t help the beaming grin that danced across your cheeks, and you chased his lips with your own as you spoke, “Yes, I accept, and it wasn’t Lo’ak that I came to the shack for.”

You felt Neteyam’s strong arms embrace you again while his lips and tongue danced passionately with yours. When you felt his large hands move to your upper thighs to hoist you against him, you instinctively twined your legs around his slender waist, locking your ankles behind him. He manoeuvred both of you into his alcove, messily pulling the cloth drapes at its entrance closed to cocoon you both in the privacy of the space.

Lowering you gently onto the softness of his bed, you moaned quietly with delight at how everything smelled of him. The heavy weight of him settled beside you and he stretched out alongside the length of your body. You both turned to lie on your sides, facing each other. It was darker in the alcove with no lamps lit in the space, the only source of light being the glow of the main fire behind the draping cloths at the alcove entrance. But Na’vi eyes acclimatised quickly and soon you could clearly make out the contours of Neteyam’s handsome face.

Your eyes trailed his form slowly from head to toe, following the vividly glimmering constellations of his tanhì (bioluminescent freckles) on his face, down his chest, abdomen and his legs. You were unhurried as you drunk in the sight of him and he appeared to be doing the same, his eyes performing a similar trek over your own body. Eywa, he was so gorgeous… His body was just perfect, every defined muscle encased in warm, smooth skin that smelled of masculine virility.

You reached out to trail your fingers over his ribs and his toned abdominals, relishing the shudder you earned from him as your fingertips traced the sensitive skin of his hip.

One of his hands stroked across your cheek and he leaned in to kiss you gently, whispering a beloved declaration against your lips, “I love you.”

Your lips stretched wide and he felt your smile against him, “I love you too.”

“Shall I show you just how much?” Neteyam’s voice was a mischievous rasp.

You tittered and sighed desirously, “Yes, make love to me, you stubborn man.”

A dark chuckle from him, “You’re going to have to be quiet here though. Think you can do that?”

You nodded soundlessly, eagerly reaching to undo the ties of your chest covering and flinging it aside to bare your breasts to him. Neteyam’s groan was almost inaudible, but you felt the rumbling growl of it with how close you were to him. His hands were immediately on your breasts, the heat of his palms searing against your soft mounds. He kneaded your breasts, thumbs stroking sensually over your incredibly sensitive nipples that hardened under his attentions. The sensation made liquid heat pool between your thighs.

Your hands made quick work of your loincloth and the fabric was flung to join your top. You felt one of his hands snake around your hip to pull you closer to him, front to front, and when his legs tangled with yours you noticed he was bare against you too, devoid of his own loincloth. You smoothed a hand over his strapping chest, fingertips testing the hard muscle there before your hand meandered towards his neck and you clutched his head towards yours.

You kissed him languidly, tasting him and smelling him, marvelling that you could love him now, truly. No more pretending. No more holding back. After so long without his lips against yours, you could quite honestly say that if the pair of you did nothing but kiss all night, you’d still wake up satisfied.

Neteyam pulled back from the kiss then and you whimpered in complaint, but he hushed you with a thumb against your lips. He murmured to you, “Shh, I love you here,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Here,” A kiss to each of your eyes, “Here,” A kiss on your nose… And on he continued downward, your shoulders, a suckling kiss to each nipple, over your heart, your navel…

You lost count after that, just getting lost in the amorous bliss of his lips paying worship to every inch of your bare skin down to your toes. He didn’t disappoint though and when he parted your thighs to settle himself between your legs, and licked a full stripe from your pussy up to your clit, you jerked with a stifled cry.

“I love you especially here.” Neteyam growled. His mouth got to work, licking and suckling at your soon throbbing core while you watched him through hooded eyes.

His golden eyes locked with yours and the intensity of his gaze made your pussy clench, pouring with slick. Your fingers played absently with his beaded braids while your hips rocked against the moist paradise of his mouth. Your eyes could barely stay open as you enjoyed the building pleasure.

Something slid down one of your thighs then and you cracked open an eyelid just in time to see Neteyam trail the thick braid of his kuru (neural queue) over your hip towards you. It was a very intimate thing, to touch another’s kuru. The intimacy of the action was surpassed only by the making of tsaheylu between two people, but Neteyam’s invitation to you to touch his was clear.

Slowly, you reached for the meticulously braided length with one hand, gently running your fingers over the smooth hair around it. Neteyam let out a small sigh that puffed against your core and he closed his eyes, enjoying your caress. You trailed your hand closer towards the end of his queue where you knew the delicate pink tendrils of it were housed. Tenderly, your fingers delved past the ends of the hair around the sheath and a sharp jolt of pleasure raced through you as the tendrils enveloped your fingers.

Neteyam whimpered, his lips and tongue ceasing their work momentarily as pleasure shot down his queue and straight to his stiff cock which gave an excited spurt of pre-cum. It was new sensation to him and a thoroughly erotic one. He couldn’t describe it, but as your fingers played with the tendrils, it was almost as if he could feel your fingers touching him at every single erogenous zone simultaneously. He resumed his feasting of your core, tongue lapping at your slick folds that only seemed to moisten further with each lap of his tongue.

His name was a whispered sigh on your lips as your clit pulsated and your inner walls squeezed. The addition of a couple of his fingers came next and he sealed his lips over your nub to suck intently at it. The tendrils of his kuru fizzled pleasantly in and around your fingers. You didn’t know what made you do it, instinct perhaps, but you brought it up towards one of your breasts then, letting the squirming tendrils attach and wrap themselves around your areola and nipple.

The pleasure was instantaneous and Neteyam’s groan against your flesh told you he felt it too. A wave of ecstasy flushed through you from your nipples to your core, throwing you into the inescapable clutches of an orgasm. Mindful of your surroundings, your mouth formed a silent ‘o’ and your fingers twisted in his hair while you writhed in bliss. Neteyam’s hand gripped onto the flesh of your hips, keeping you still enough so he could continue to drink from your core.

Your desire burned feverishly within you despite the shattering climax you’d just experienced and you were impatient to have more of him against you. Tugging at his braids to get his attention, Neteyam lifted his face, licking his lips while his cheeks glistened with the evidence of your arousal. His expression was almost feral as he crawled up your body on all fours, and you spied his straining erection, watching it bob as he made his way up to you.

You shot him a slow smile as he settled himself alongside you again and the mess on his face didn’t deter you from kissing him. You murmured, “Thank you.”

“I’m enchanted by you, paskalin. I’ll do anything you ask for as long as I live.”

A hot blush stained your cheeks at his romantic words and you didn’t know whether to kiss him again or hide your face. You saw him look at the end of his kuru where it remained attached to your breast and you urged him, “Leave it. This might sound strange, but it’s as though I can feel you better. And it feels good.”

Neteyam smirked at you and nodded in agreement, “What would you like now? I’m impatient to have you though.”

His shifted his hips, his drooling erection slipping against your lower belly. You chortled softly at him and you took pity on his aching flesh, reaching down with a hand to greet his cock with a familiar stroke. A loud grunt left Neteyam and you hushed him, ears twitching and listening to the surroundings of the shelter. No one had returned yet, you were quite sure, the both of you would’ve heard them. Though it paid to be cautious.

Getting caught in a compromising position with the olo’eyktan’s son in the olo’eyktan’s home was not a misdemeanour you wanted against your record.

You continued your teasing stroke and squeeze of his cock, revelling in the sound of Neteyam’s strained panting by your ear. You paused by the swollen tip, running your thumb back and forth over his frenulum, which drew a very vulgar curse from him. His free hand was stimulating your other nipple while the tendrils of his kuru undulated over your other. The stimulation made your pussy ache and your clit throb longingly and you rubbed your thighs together to try and ease the pressure.

“Let me help you with that. You know I can fill you up so good.” Neteyam purred, thrusting his hips so his cock slipped faster in the grasp of your hand as if to press his point.

You smirked at him and licked sensuously over his parted lips with your tongue, “No, I think I’ll tease you a bit more for being so mean to me earlier. Besides, I want to try something.”

Your introduction to Neteyam’s neural queue made you eager to return the favour. Reaching behind you with your other hand, you brought your kuru over your shoulder and carefully held its end out between you, the twisting pink tendrils greeting Neteyam with their rippling dance. Already breathing heavily from the pleasure you were giving his cock, he lifted his hand to meet your tendrils, and both of you gasped as they twined around his fingers.

The sensation was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. Heat flushed over your skin and you prickled everywhere that you were sensitive; your nipples hardened and your pussy gushed with more slick. An unbidden erotic image came to you of your kuru’s tendrils wrapped around Neteyam’s cock and you shivered with delight at the thought.

Gently pulling your kuru from Neteyam’s fingers, you gradually inched it down towards his midsection, wanting to make the image your brain had supplied a reality. You watched him for any sign of discomfort or uncertainty, but his pupils were blown so wide with arousal you could hardly see the gold of his irises, and he looked on with as much eager anticipation as you did. Releasing his cock where you held it in your right hand, you brought left hand with your kuru towards it. The tendrils eagerly wrapped around their new target, coiling around the head and upper shaft.

You felt Neteyam’s body lurch at the same time that a wave of immense gratification shot through your neural queue to your own core.

“Fuck, Neyomi.” Neteyam keened and you saw his cock pulse, emitting a viscous string of pre-cum. It continued to throb and you swore your clit was throbbing in time with it.

Neteyam groaned aloud again, evidently struggling to keep to his own rule of being quiet. You rolled onto you back, pulling him atop you and silencing him with a deep kiss. You drowned in the moist heat of his mouth, lips and tongues waltzing in-between the twist and turn of your heads. He was rocking his hips against yours, his cock trapped between your bodies while your kuru still remained coiled around his sensitive flesh.

He broke away from the kiss with a sharp hiss of pleasure, “Wiya (damn), I’m going to cum like this if I can’t have you soon.”

“Yeah? Does that feel good?”

“Too good. Please, I need you.” Neteyam pleaded with a whimper, and he continued to ramble, “I know you must be aching for me. Let me make you squirt on my cock. You must have missed that right? All those weeks you didn’t come to the shack.”

You paused. It was true, you had missed him and missed his body, but you’d technically managed to squirt too with the dildo you’d poached from the shack…

When you didn’t answer, Neteyam stilled in his movements and he turned questioning eyes at you, “What is it?”

You bit your lip sheepishly, wondering if you should fib your way out of the situation or tell him the truth and make him feel a little less special. You didn’t want to start your new relationship off with a lie, so you resolved to be truthful, “I did manage to squirt whilst I wasn’t with you.”

His eyes widened and he looked rather taken aback.

“N-Not with someone else!” You quickly amended, “I pinched one of the toys from the shack a while ago when you and Lo’ak weren’t looking. It ah- It does the trick.”

Neteyam’s face suddenly morphed into a very smug smile and he leaned down to nibble at the point of your ear while he drawled, “Oh the dildo. We wondered where it had gone. Did you enjoy it, you little snitch?”

You shivered against him and rubbed your cheek against his, “Yeah, so your cock’s not the only one that can make me squirt. Sorry.”

Neteyam’s answering chuckle was deep and self-assured, “Don’t be. I’m not sorry about that.”

Confusion coloured your face and you pulled your head back to look at him, “You’re not?”

Neteyam’s expression was still incredibly conceited when he shook his head. He reached down and gently removed your kuru from his cock, keeping hold of it still though and letting its tendrils find purchase amongst his fingers instead. Sliding his knee between your thighs, he urged your to part your legs for him, which you did without hesitation. Balancing over you on his forearms, he settled his hips against yours and began a tantalising rub of his cock against your folds. You moaned with want and hooked your ankles behind his lower back.

“Why would I be upset about you squirting on that dildo,” He taunted huskily, “When that dildo was made from a mould of my cock?” His last words were punctuated with a sharp thrust of his hips, his long length penetrating you suddenly and fully to the hilt.

You threw your head back against the bedding with a guttural cry, uncaring at that moment if anyone heard you. Well that explained a lot about why that dildo had felt so good inside you… You didn’t have time to ponder on that thought. You clutched at Neteyam’s body, arms wrapped tight around his torso, your legs locked around his hips as he settled into a rhythm of rocking thrusts.

“You’re mine, paskalin.” Neteyam vowed and his lips found yours again in an all-consuming meld that set your heart and soul alight with elation.

You couldn’t get enough of him. He was all around you, over you, in you, and yet you still felt like you needed him to be closer. Your fronts were pressed to each other’s and your tails were twined; if you died like this you knew you would die the happiest you’d ever been. Your mouths remained fused, pausing only for short intakes of breath before finding each other again.

Neteyam’s thrusts were slow, but they were deep and you could feel every last ridge and outline of his cock inside you. The depth of his movements was delicious and the intense and pulsing throbs of your pelvic muscles signalled an impressive climax on the horizon for you.

Neteyam broke away from your kiss, tucking his face into the side of your neck to stifle his own reflexive moans of enjoyment. You knew he was close too from the shudder of his torso with each of his thrusts, and you could somehow feel his pleasure too, from his kuru at your breast and your kuru within his grasp.

Great Mother, you could only imagine how breathtaking it would feel when two people mated and made tsaheylu…

The winding spiral of pleasure twisted tighter and tighter in your lower belly, and your fingernails scored Neteyam’s back whilst you teetered on the brink of oblivion. You felt suspended in time, the only sounds you could hear were the pounding of your hearts and Neteyam’s harsh groans as he too hovered on the edge. He lifted his head and his gaze locked with your own, each of your pleasure-filled reflections mirrored in the dark pupils of each other’s eyes.

It was the only reflection you ever wanted to see in his eyes, your own face staring back at you. You never wanted to be without Neteyam again and as your heart shattered with the depth of your love for him, so did your core. Your climax swept through you like a tidal wave, your pussy clenching down and pulsing rhythmically as the wetness of your squirt gushed between your bodies. Your face twisted into what you hoped was a silent scream while the pleasure consumed you.

The squeeze and clench of your walls around his cock, as always, was nirvana for Neteyam. His entire frame tensed and went rigid, and he gritted his teeth hard to keep himself from shouting out his pleasure as he ejaculated. Your body milked him for every drop he had and your pussy continued to flutter around his swollen length pleasurably.

“Neteyam… Neteyam…” You whispered his name in a blissful chant and though your arms and legs shook from exertion, you kept them wrapped about him, not wanting to let him go. You mewled in complaint when he tried to roll his weight off you, so he deftly rolled you both so you could lie on top of him, still intimately joined.

Neteyam clasped you to him, on arm draped over your back while his other hand made soothing strokes over your hair. He could feel your breaths puffing gently into the crook of his neck where your cheek rested against his collarbone. His kuru and yourshad detached at some point and they trailed alongside your bodies, but it took nothing away from the intimacy you were both still wrapped up in.

“By Eywa, you’re it for me, you know that?” Neteyam affirmed with a hoarse chuckle, “Without a doubt. I’ll never look at another woman again.”

Your heart soared at his words and you knew, if you could see yourself, that your tanhì would be glowing bright with your immeasurable joy and contentment, “I guess we’re both ruined for each other then.”

“Will you be mine, formally? Will you accept this offer of betrothal?”

You gasped softly at his request. Your heart screamed your answer, affirmative without any hesitation, but the cogs in your mind began to turn. His betrothal request was unexpected. You’d agreed earlier to be courted openly by him, but a betrothal was serious. It was an engagement to be mated for life and while your heart danced for joy, your conscience questioned, not his fit for you as a mate, but your fit for him as mate to the olo’eyktan.

“Neyomi?” Neteyam queried quietly at your silence. His apprehension was clear in his tone.

You raised your head to regard him, blinking wide eyes at him, “I want to accept, but what if I turn out to be wrong for you? What if I’m not fit to stand by your side as wife to the olo’eyktan?”

He laughed at you then, relief sweeping over his face when he realised why you were hesitating, “You stand by my side every day already, paskalin. You’re my second-in-command and you’ve partnered with me, challenged me where I needed to be, and supported me for years. You already hold the position without the formal title.”

Tears sprang to your eyes as your emotions began to gain the upper hand. You murmured wetly, “You really want me like that? Forever?”

Neteyam craned his head upward to brush his lips against yours, “I want you every way that I can have you. As my second-in-command, my wife, mother of my children…”

His words trailed off, interrupted by you as you pulled him against you to claim his lips in another searing kiss, “Yes! I accept.”

There was commotion then in the main space of the family’s shelter. Hushed whispers and soft chatter sounded, indicating the return home of the other Sullys.

A very loud and contrived coughing fit sounded from Lo’ak, who cleared his throat dramatically several times, apologising repeatedly for his noisy fuss. You and Neteyam grinned at each other in the darkness, chortling to yourselves, knowing full well that Lo’ak was wanting to ensure the both of you knew that you were no longer alone.

You settled your head against Neteyam’s chest again, closing drowsy eyes and basking in the afterglow.

Neteyam murmured a bedtime prayer and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, “Sleep, my love and I’ll rise to kiss you again in the morning.”

***~~~***

You were awoken by the sound of soft knocking against wood and a feminine voice calling out gently.

Neteyam stirred beneath you, his shoulder shifting beneath your cheek. You’d slept pressed against each other the entire night and were it not for the corporeality of the situation currently, you would’ve sworn it was all just a wonderful dream.

More knocking sounded and you were grateful to see the cloth drapes at the alcove entrance remained shut. Neither of you was decent yet.

The feminine voice called again and you recognised it to be Kiri’s, “Good morning, you two. The day has long begun.”

Part of you sighed in relief. Better Kiri than Neytiri. Great Mother, you didn’t want to face Neteyam’s mother right now after a sensual night with him, under their roof…

Neteyam’s smile was debonair and he blinked sleepy eyes at you. You squinted back at him, the harsh daylight outside obvious even in the confines of the shelter. You startled with a gasp. Daylight! By Eywa, what was the time?!

Scrambling for your clothing, you smacked Neteyam’s thigh, “Neteyam! The hunters! We’ve got patrol this morning!”

Kiri’s laughter sounded like a charming peal of shell chimes from behind the drapes, “Mm yes, I daresay it caused quite the stir when both the commander of the warriors and his second-in-command didn’t turn up for work today.”

A long and grumbled curse hissed out from Neteyam as he pressed the fingers of one hand into his eyes.

Kiri was quick to chastise, clucking her tongue in reprimand, “Language, brother. Besides, there’s no need to fret. Dad and Lo’ak stepped in to lead today’s patrol. There isn’t any urgency for you.”

Dressing quickly nonetheless, you shared a chaste kiss with Neteyam before he drew back the alcove drapes. Kiri stood with her arms folded, looking mighty amused as her eyes flitted sagaciously between the pair of you.

Kiri’s shrewd eyes took in your form, trailing you from head to toe again, but there was a teasing glint in them when she spoke, “That was some apology you had for my brother.”

Flushing a deep shade of violet, you greeted the young woman meekly, “Good morning, Kiri.”

“Where’s Mum?” Neteyam asked, glancing around the empty shelter with nervous eyes. He threaded his fingers through yours to hold your hand. His mother wouldn’t have been pleased by what the both of you had done. Yes, you were both grown adults and intimacy was not frowned upon amongst the people, but there was a certain respect that one had to have for their parents’ home.

Kiri giggled again with a polite hand over her mouth, “She’s out. She left early this morning to help Grandmother gather some herbs.” She snorted when she saw Neteyam visibly relax, and she couldn’t help but take another jab at him, amused by his discomfiture, “Oh don’t worry, Mum definitely wanted to throw you both out earlier this morning, but I think the Great Mother had something to say about that.”

You frowned, not understanding Kiri’s meaning. Neteyam’s ears too pricked in curious interest and he cocked a questioning head at his sister, “What do you mean?”

Kiri padded to the main archway of the family shelter and she pulled one half of the entry cloths aside, motioning with her head for both of you to step outside, “Come see for yourself.”

Following along a little behind Neteyam, the warmth of daylight greeted your skin as you both stepped out into the open. You heard Neteyam suck in a breath and halt in his steps. Blinking against the intense daylight, your eyes took a few moments to acclimatise. However, when they finally did and you took in the spectacle before you, you gave a loud gasp of surprise.

All around the Sullys’ family shelter, littering the ground and hovering about the structure, were dozens of atokirina (seeds of the sacred tree). The feathery seeds undulated about the place, sprinkling the shelter in a dusting of blessed white.

Kiri stepped out after the both of you, grinning, “Evidently Eywa thought all was right with the world.”

You felt Neteyam pull you to his side and he nuzzled your cheek tenderly. Your answering smile was bright and you placed a shy kiss on his shoulder.

“Do I need to tell Grandmother to make another formal announcement?” Kiri asked, smirking at the tender display of affection between you.

Neteyam’s beamed at his sister and his response was full of affectionate confidence, “Yes. Neyomi and I are both spoken for. We’re betrothed.”

And all was right with the world indeed…

Epilogue - Silwey's Reaction HERE

***~~~***

Author's Note: The end! THANK YOU again to all of you wonderful folks for your awesome support. I absolutely love interacting with everyone and it's because of you that this series became a reality. It was only ever meant to be a oneshot! I hope that you've relished Neteyam & Neyomi's (reader) journey to love. Let me know your thoughts, scream to me in the comments! Reblogs, likes & comments are always very appreciated. 😘

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