#serendipitous symphony | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ginxyy · 1 month ago

Text

Almost

Almost With You

The world around you seems to shimmer under the harsh glow of neon lights as you step out of the small café tucked away in a quiet corner of the bustling city. The laughter and chatter of people mingling and weaving through the streets echo like a distant song, but it does little to drown out the steady thrum of your heart a heart burdened by a single word: almost. It sits heavy in your chest, a bittersweet weight that you have carried since the moment you met him.

Wonwoo. A name that sends tingles of excitement through you, yet also a heavy reminder of the chasm between your realities. He doesn’t just hover in the stars; he glides across them, a luminary of talent and grace, celebrated around the world as a member of Seventeen. Your world, vibrant in its own right, feels tiny next to the megawatt brilliance that is his life the spotlight that illuminates his every move. And you, forever the dreamer, have carefully carved out a life filled with art and words, but in the shadows, where his light rarely reaches.

You remember the first time you met him, a serendipitous encounter on a rainy afternoon in that same café. The rain had pelted the window, creating a symphony of soft, rhythmic taps, and you had holed up with a book, a steaming cup of tea cradled in your hands. His laughter had been the first thing to draw your gaze, a rich and warm sound that cracked the stormy weather outside. You glanced up, heart fluttering in your chest, and there he was Wonwoo, leaning against the counter, hair tousled from the humidity, sparkling eyes filled with mirth as he shared a joke with the barista.

With every passing moment, you found yourself drawn to his light. You were an artist, brushing your way through shades of doubt and insecurity, while he painted the world with vibrancy and hope. A spark ignited in your chest, a connection that felt all too real when he turned, caught your eye, and flashed a shy smile. “Do you believe in chance encounters?” he asked, and in that moment, the world fell away. You smiled back, and just like that, the universe folded into a singularity where it was just the two of you, floating somewhere between reality and fantasy.

Several coffee dates followed, delicious coffees brewing into conversations that wound their way through laughter and the sharing of dreams. You introduced him to your love of art, dragging him to quaint galleries, where colors danced on canvas, and artists poured their souls into every stroke. He, in turn, shared snippets of his life, of idols and fans, of stages and songs but beneath that glimmering surface, you could sense a depth of vulnerability that he rarely revealed, a fragile curtain hiding the burdens of fame.

However, as you became closer, a cloud of unsaid things began to loom like a shadow. Although sparks flew between you, a bittersweet understanding began to crystallize an almost that eternally echoed in your interactions. Each share of a late-night laugh was laced with an unspoken farewell. As each day passed, it felt like you were both standing on opposite shores, reaching out, fingers almost brushing but never quite making contact.

Summer’s warmth turned to gold and then to oranges and reds, and your stolen moments began to dwindle, reality clawing at you with its unforgiving grip. He would get busy with tours and performances, his world encased in the glint of flashing lights and thunderous applause. You, too, found yourself wrapped up in the chaos of life, weighed down by a mix of admiration and the undeniable ache of longing for the moments spent in his presence.

The last time you saw him, the night was draped in a star-studded sky, each twinkling light reflecting the emotions dancing between you. You stood outside that same café, your heart racing as you anticipated the bittersweet farewell hovering just above your tongue. His face illuminated by the dim glow of the streetlight, eyes sparkling yet clouded with uncertainty.

“Are you okay?” you asked, concern bubbling over as you noticed the unshed emotions caught in his gaze.

“Yeah, just... it’s going to be a while before the tour finishes. I wanted you to know,” he said, swallowing hard, the weight of the words heavy as they hung between you both. “You mean a lot to me, you know?”

You fought against the swell of emotions working their way up your throat, aching to reach out and capture this fleeting moment. “I mean a lot to you, or you want me to?” The words slipped out quicker than your mind could process and you held your breath, your heart sinking under the realization that what you had felt wasn't just a connection. It was so much more yet marred by the almost existence you both shared.

His expression faltered, a hint of frustration flickering across his features. “No! That’s not what I meant.” He stepped closer, bridging that gap, but the moment was still shadowed by the uncertainties of what could happen next. “It’s just…this is complicated. You’re amazing, and I wish...but we’re in different worlds.”

“Almost,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. “That's all we are.”

He reached for your hand, and you thought for a moment that he would close the distance entirely, but the moment slipped away like sand through your fingers. He pulled back, a look of defeat crossing his face. “I wish it were easy.”

You nodded, the weight of acceptance settling over youthe understanding that sometimes things just weren’t meant to be, no matter how right they felt. Almost. It felt like the bitter aftertaste of a dream just out of reach.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, a farewell echoing through the air. As his silhouette began to merge with the night, you felt the finality of it all sinking in. You were left standing beneath the twinkling stars and whispering breeze, an unbreakable bond forged from the meeting of two worlds yet burdened by an almost that would linger in your heart forever.

And there you remained, enveloped in memories of what could have been, feeling a love that sparkled with unreality yet tasted of deep longing. The echoes of a wistful heart, wishing on stars and cherishing every fleeting moment, pondering the sweetness of almost.

The city hadn’t changed much in a year the neon lights still painted the streets with their vibrant glow, the same cafés whispered promises of warm solitude, and the laughter of strangers still hummed through the air like a distant melody. Yet, your world felt vastly different.

You had moved on, or at least you told yourself you had. The ache that Wonwoo left behind had softened, not entirely erased but dulled, like the faint impression of a painting that had been partially washed away. You found yourself with someone new a kind soul with a gentle laugh and an understanding heart. He admired your art, laughed at your jokes, and held your hand as though it was the most natural thing in the world. You liked him. Maybe even loved him in a quiet, steady way. But still, there were nights when your mind wandered back to the weight of “almost,” to the dreamlike connection you had shared with a man whose world was far too bright for your shadowed corners.

And then one evening, the universe decided to test your resolve.

You were walking hand in hand with your boyfriend, laughing at something light and trivial, when the familiar sound of warm laughter washed over you. It was a sound you would recognize anywhere, even in the cacophony of a bustling city street. Your breath hitched as your eyes scanned the crowd, and then you saw him.

Wonwoo.

He stood just outside the same café where it had all begun, his tall frame illuminated by the golden glow of the streetlights. His features were sharper, his aura somehow even more magnetic than you remembered. Yet, there was a tiredness etched into his face, a quiet weight that fame seemed to have settled on his shoulders.

He hadn’t noticed you at first, too engrossed in conversation with someone beside him, but then his gaze shifted and there you were. His smile faltered, the conversation around him fading into white noise. Your heart skipped, then settled into a rhythm that felt both familiar and foreign.

Your boyfriend’s voice cut through your haze. “Do you know him?”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. We… used to know each other.”

The words felt insufficient, but how could you explain? How could you condense a connection that felt like galaxies collapsing into a single, fleeting moment?

“Go ahead,” your boyfriend said, his voice gentle. “I’ll give you a minute.”

You hesitated, but Wonwoo’s eyes met yours again, a quiet invitation lingering there. You took a step forward, and then another, until you were standing a few feet apart, the space between you heavy with unspoken things.

“Hi,” you said, your voice barely audible over the sound of your heartbeat.

“Hi,” he replied, his smile tinged with melancholy. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his coat, as if anchoring himself to the moment. “It’s been a while.”

“It has,” you murmured. “How have you been?”

He shrugged, glancing away for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “Busy. Tired. The usual.”

You nodded, unsure of what else to say. The air between you felt fragile, as if the wrong word might shatter it entirely.

“And you?” he asked, his gaze dropping briefly to the hand that hung by your side, now absent of his touch but claimed by another.

“I’ve been… okay,” you said. “Life’s been good. Different.”

He nodded, his expression softening. “I’m glad.”

A silence settled over you, not uncomfortable but heavy with memories. The last time you had stood here together, the weight of “almost” had been too much to bear. Now, it hovered between you again, unspoken yet undeniably present.

“You look happy,” he said, his voice tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. Regret? Nostalgia? “That’s all I ever wanted for you.”

You smiled faintly. “And you? Are you happy?”

His lips curved into a bittersweet smile. “Almost.”

The word hung in the air, echoing louder than it should have. It was a tether that pulled you back to all the moments you had shared, to the dreams you had dared to imagine but never dared to chase.

“I think about us sometimes,” he admitted, his voice soft. “What we could’ve been. What we almost were.”

“Me too,” you whispered. “But… we were never really meant to be, were we?”

“No,” he said, his eyes shining with unshed emotions. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t wish it were different.”

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat. There was so much you wanted to say, but none of it felt like enough. Instead, you simply let the silence speak for you, the weight of “almost” pressing against your chest.

After what felt like an eternity, he stepped back, his movements slow and deliberate. “Take care of yourself, okay?” he said, his voice breaking just slightly. “And… thank you. For everything.”

“You too,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “Goodbye, Wonwoo.”

He gave you one last look, a mixture of longing and acceptance in his eyes, before turning and disappearing into the crowd. You watched him go, the ache in your chest both familiar and new.

When you returned to your boyfriend’s side, he didn’t ask questions. He simply squeezed your hand, anchoring you to the present. And as you walked away, the word “almost” echoed in your mind, a quiet reminder of a love that could never be but would always linger in the corners of your heart.

The afternoon sun poured through the large windows of your art studio, casting golden beams across the room. The walls were lined with vibrant paintings, some your own and others contributions from students who had found their creative voices under your guidance. You were living your dream your studio was alive with energy, laughter, and the quiet hum of creativity as students filled the space for one of your workshops.

It had been seven months since that night when you had last seen Wonwoo. Seven months since his bittersweet smile had lingered in your memory, since the word “almost” had etched itself into your heart one final time. In those months, life had blossomed in ways you hadn’t imagined. You’d made the difficult decision to end your relationship with your boyfriend not because you didn’t care for him, but because you realized that contentment wasn’t enough. You craved joy, passion, and a sense of wholeness.

Now, you had that. This studio, your art, your independence t was everything you had worked for. And for the first time in a long while, you were truly, deeply happy.

You moved between easels, offering encouragement to your students. The scent of acrylic paint and turpentine mingled with the faint aroma of coffee from the break area. You loved this environment the controlled chaos of it all, the quiet thrill of watching people pour their emotions into their art.

The studio door opened, and you glanced up, offering a polite smile to the newcomer before freezing in place.

Wonwoo.

He stepped inside, his dark coat framing his tall figure, his eyes scanning the room until they found yours. For a moment, everything else disappeared the chatter of your students, the clinking of brushes, the world outside the studio. It was just him, and the quiet storm of emotions his presence stirred in you.

You swallowed hard, your composure faltering for only a second before you forced yourself to recover. He gave you a small, almost shy smile and moved to join the rest of the students. You didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or run away. Instead, you did what you always did: you focused on your work.

Throughout the workshop, you were acutely aware of him. His presence was magnetic, an unspoken pull that had your heart racing even as you tried to maintain a professional demeanor. He worked quietly, his long fingers deftly sketching lines onto his canvas. His eyes would occasionally flicker to you, and every time they did, you felt your breath catch.

When the workshop finally ended and the students began packing up, you watched him linger. He stood by his easel, waiting as the last person exited the studio, leaving the two of you alone.

“Wonwoo,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “What are you doing here?”

He stepped closer, his gaze steady, but there was a vulnerability in his eyes that made your chest tighten. “I wanted to see you,” he said simply. “I heard about the studio… I had to come.”

You crossed your arms, both a barrier and a way to steady yourself. “Why now? It’s been months.”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration and emotion flickering across his face. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About us. I’ve been running from how I feel, telling myself it wouldn’t work, but it’s been torture. And when I saw you with him that night…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening. “I told myself I should let you go. But I can’t.”

The weight of his words sank into you, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak. Finally, you said, “I broke up with him.”

His eyes widened, surprise mingling with something else .. hope. “You did?”

You nodded, your voice soft. “I realized I wasn’t happy. Not the way I should be. I’ve been focusing on myself, my art, my studio. It’s been… amazing.”

You hesitated, the words lingering on the edge of your lips, but before you could finish, he closed the distance between you in an instant.

His hands cupped your face, and then his lips were on yours, firm and demanding yet filled with raw emotion. It was as if all the months of longing and restraint had broken free in that single moment. The kiss was intense, your breath stolen as his lips moved against yours, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you closer.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing uneven. His voice was low, thick with emotion. “I don’t want us to be ‘almost’ anymore. I need you more than I can admit. Fuck my job, fuck the rules, fuck everything that kept me away from you. If it means I can have you, none of it matters.”

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked up at him, his face so close, so filled with conviction. “Wonwoo…” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Are you sure? Your world, your career…”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted, his hands tightening on your waist. “None of it is worth anything if I don’t have you.”

The intensity of his words, of his gaze, stole your breath. And then you were kissing him again, your arms wrapping around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair as the rest of the world fell away.

The kiss deepened, growing hungrier, more desperate. His hands roamed your back, sliding up under your shirt to trace the bare skin beneath. You gasped against his lips, and he took the opportunity to trail kisses down your neck, his breath warm and ragged against your skin.

Before you knew it, he was guiding you toward a table, clearing the scattered brushes and canvases in one swift motion. His touch was urgent, his lips never leaving yours as he lifted you onto the table, his body pressing against yours.

The studio, your sanctuary, became a space filled with the sounds of passion and whispered confessions. Every kiss, every touch, every breath felt like a reclaiming of time lost, of love deferred.

And in that moment, there were no barriers, no “almost.” There was only him, only you, and the overwhelming certainty that this—he—was everything you had ever wanted.

111 notes · View notes

imagining-in-the-margins · 2 years ago

Text

The Mother Wound (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer and Reader bond over having emotionally absent mothers. Request: reader has an abusive parent and she has developed ptsd from that A/N: Written for a very dear friend of mine, and anyone else who needs to hear it. This is also my entry to @foxy-eva’s Celebration Challenge (prompt “Overcoming Trauma”)! Be sure to show her some love! Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader (also consistent with platonic love) Category: Angst/Comfort Content Warning: Mother’s Day, strained parent & child relationship, implied no contact (with mother), implied mental or physical abuse (from father), crying, feelings of shame Word Count: 2.5k

MASTERLIST

I didn’t go home for Mother’s Day.

I knew that I was supposed to, but I didn’t. Instead, I stayed exactly where I was. Some might say it was inertia, but I knew better. There was no real excuse for violating the duty granted to me by nature of having been born.

But at least I wasn’t the only one.

The case that had almost served as an excuse was both local and over. It ended with serendipitous timing that allowed almost everyone else to scurry home in time for an attempt at recreating a home cooked meal for the woman that taught them… well, everything.

Spencer stayed with me. He called his mother, though.

As I sat on the park bench overlooking the lake, I turned back to see him with his phone still pressed against his ear. Even from where I was sitting, I could make out his knitted brow. It felt too intimate for my tired heart to handle, and so I turned away.

Sort of like how I was avoiding my mother.

My insides twisted and their rioting made my bones rattle. It felt as though my body was tearing in two in protest of my failure to acknowledge its creation.

I breathed in, slowly but with a trembling lip. I breathed out much quicker, like a swift punch to the gut that left me doubled over.

When I brought my hands to my face, I felt the wetness of freshly shed tears. I looked up at the water, resting and rippling reflections of the universe and I wondered how many oceans I could fill with this feeling.

“Hey, are you ready to go?”

Spencer’s voice tore me mercifully from the thought.

“Hey,” I said as I sat up.

My hands were still over my eyes, rubbing constellations against damp eyelids and hoping that the red would quickly fade.

“Sure, we can go,” I tried to assure him when I finally turned to face him.

But Spencer, that sweet boy with his wringing fingers and always-averted gaze looked directly into my eyes—endless oceans of grief with a relentless rip current of rage.

He said nothing. Behind us, the frogs and crickets sang a raucous symphony that sounded nothing like a good mother’s tongue.

After a moment, I realized how little time had passed.

“Did your mom not answer your call?”

“No, she did,” he said with a curt shake of his head. Then, with more broken movements he tried to explain, “She just uh…”

I stared back. His eyes fell away, turning towards the lake as his face stretched into a strained smile.

“She’s having a bad day,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” I offered.

“It’s alright,” he refused.

So, we stayed, both filled to the brim with inertia borne from the same shame.

That was, until he asked, “Can I sit with you?”

“Yeah, of course.”

The bench was big enough that I hadn’t needed to move to make room for him, but I did it, anyway. I shrunk into myself exactly the way my mother had taught me to do.

Spencer watched me as I withered. Through my peripherals, I watched him struggle against the same instinct.

But then he gave a small act of courage, the trembling of a hand splayed against a bench, the demand to take up space.

It made my heart ache.

“I’m having a bad day, too,” I told him.

Spencer smiled.

“That’s alright,” he shrugged.

My mouth dropped open and stayed there. I silently wondered how many years of suffering it must’ve taken to grow muscles capable of letting go, of feeling badly freely.

“Truthfully, I’ve never really liked Mother’s Day,” he sighed. “It always felt… forced. If not slightly resentful, even.”

What cruel words they were, like a twist of a knife in already knotted insides.

It was an irresponsible thing to say, a horribly upsetting suggestion that I understood with such fury that tears poured down my cheeks with no warning. Again, I fell forward, caught by my own hands that tried to stifle the sobbing.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” he shouted.

Then, with a voice like a child, he begged me to believe him.

“I-I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s not your fault,” I said. I even surprised myself with a laugh and an uncharacteristic level of introspection. “I just… I relate a little too much to what you just said.”

“I’m still sorry,” he offered.

“It’s fine,” I refused.

We sat together in the suffocating darkness until one of us found the courage to speak again.

It was him first.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, not really,” I said.

My courage followed slightly later, with the word ‘yes’ fighting through my throat.

Eventually, it came out as a weak and broken, “Maybe.”

Spencer’s eyes scanned my features while I looked up at the lake.

“I’ve been told I’m a very good listener when I manage to be quiet,” he deadpanned.

I laughed. It tasted bitter like the words bottled inside of my chest. It sounded bitter like the way my mother never could compliment me without a condition.

“I just feel terrible saying it all today, of all days,” I sighed. My hands fell back to my lap, abandoning any hope that I could hide my weakness from his eyes.

In an unexpected and swift motion, Spencer moved closer. His body radiated warmth and the faint but familiar smell of a better home.

Without any attempt at hiding or quieting his voice, he chuckled, “I promise you, anything bad you could say about your mother, I’ve thought worse.”

I scoffed, but it didn’t dissuade him.

“I doubt that very much,” I explained.

But he was persistent.

“I mean it.”

Almost enough for me to believe him.

Our eyes locked. Mine, slightly squinted as I tried to find hidden meaning. His, wide eyed and innocent, as though he’d done nothing wrong at all.

“What if I told you that… I was relieved when she hung up on me?” he said, further betraying those eyes. “I spent the whole day dreading that phone call, and I barely managed to smile until I heard the dial tone.”

So simple, so sure that he’d done nothing wrong. I was inclined to believe him.

“What would you think about me?” he asked, “Would you think I was awful?”

“No,” I admitted.

His saturnine smile didn’t wane, but it trembled with both pride and pain.

“I agree,” he said. “Your turn.”

“I-I don’t know what to say.”

It had been close enough to the truth that I couldn’t call it a lie—but Spencer didn’t believe it. He spared me the humiliation of saying that, though.

Instead, he took my hand. His grip was soft and warm despite the springtime chill, exactly like his eyes. He looked at me with such reverence that I felt compelled to hide.

He didn’t let me do that, either.

“Try,” he said instead, “For me.”

He didn’t let go when my fingers twitched in his grip. Again, the seemingly small act of bravery—the daring to hold me even when my hands grew clammy and harder to love—felt like a balm over a bullet wound bleeding harsh words.

I took a deep breath before I spoke.

“I don’t know what to say about my mother because I don’t think I’ve ever had one. I don’t think I really know the woman who made me and I’m not sure I ever will.”

Spencer didn't move. Not even a nod.

Quieter then, with waning confidence, I cried, “I’m not sure if I would even want to know her. But then I say that out loud and I know I’m lying like she always said I was.”

A sob shook my body and I almost pulled away. Spencer was caught off guard by the sudden jerk, but his grip tightened like he saw how ready I was to bolt.

“Being confused isn’t the same as lying,” he offered.

“It doesn’t matter,” I refused.

So did he.

“It matters,” he insisted. “It matters to me.”

I tried to scoff but I choked on the sound. My free hand clutched at my chest like it could stop the way my heart was tearing in two.

I should have known better, though. How could my heart break in half when it was never whole to begin with?

As I fell back against the bench, Spencer’s grip loosened. He would’ve withdrawn completely if I hadn’t stopped him by squeezing tighter.

He settled, too. We both relaxed against worn wood and shivered from Winter’s dying breath.

“Sometimes it feels like there is this… ache inside of me,” I whispered along the whistling wind, “No matter how much I try to bury it over the years, I can’t seem to shake it. It’s like…. It’s like I can feel her. This version of myself that was never allowed to be.”

I held my hand out like an offering to the lake. I stared at a calloused palm l long enough for it to tremble under the weight of nothing.

“When you’re a child, all you want is a mother. Your mother,” I cried as my offering turned to a fist, “You crave it so badly, that reassurance, that comfort, that… unconditional love.”

Spencer looked down at his own scarred palm.

“Yeah,” he muttered, “you’re right.”

I wanted to pause, to let him speak and hear what he might have to offer from the safety of the other side of this suffering.

Yet when I spoke again, I swore I saw him shrinking away.

“They say when you grow up with an angry man in your house, you will always find him in your house, no matter how far from him you run. And they’re right. They…”

I turned to find him with furrowed brows pointed at the ground. I watched the breath come to him just to leave him again.

I recognized the signs of a heavy heart. Deciding that spilling half of my heart would be enough for now, I swallowed the words about my father. I turned back to my mother at the same time Spencer turned back to me.

“I never expected anything else from my father. But next to him, in front of him, in the space between the two of us, where my mother was meant to be, there is…”

“Nothing,” he finished for me.

“Exactly,” I croaked.

I wasn’t sure how I had any breath left, much less painful, beautiful words to try to fill the black hole where there was once an umbilical cord.

“I can feel it,” I muttered, “I can feel the lack of her like an insatiable hunger that feels… exactly like my father.”

I squeezed his hand. Tighter with each passing word, waiting to see how much of my rage he was willing to endure before I became unlovable.

“That child inside of me is made of monsters without mothers. I am, at my core, half-empty,” I nearly yelled, gripping him so tightly that I swore I felt my own muscles tearing, “and I don’t know how the fuck I’m supposed to fix that without a mother to teach me how!”

I gasped. My hand let go, flew away from him as I collapsed forward once more. I held myself with that same cruelty—digging nails into skin that looked both too much and not enough like my mother.

To my surprise, Spencer scrambled forward, but he didn’t pry me apart. Instead, he wrapped careful arms around me until he felt the full weight of my grief.

He cradled my head against his chest with trembling hands. I could see angry red welts where my fingers had been, and it only made me cry harder.

I wept shamelessly, clinging to him with tainted hands and half of a heart.

He said nothing and it sounded nothing like my mother’s silence.

Eventually, I came to join him in the liminal space between our suffering.

“I’m afraid I’m going to be angry forever,” I whispered.

“You won’t,” he answered in a way that sounded a lot like a lie. A half-truth, an almost abandoned hope.

He saw how badly I wanted to challenge the notion. He knew he couldn’t promise me peace, so he abandoned the hoping and returned his energy to holding me instead.

“I wish I had all the answers,” he said, and for the first time, I heard his voice shake. “I’ve spent a lifetime searching for something to help me calm that crying child and I just…”

Our bodies rocked with the soft rippling before us. Spencer’s tears dripped onto my chest and I realized no number of oceans could ever contain this feeling.

“I know,” he blubbered. “I know how it hurts. I know how terrifying it is to grow up with the full knowledge of how cruel the world can be, and it isn’t fair that you had to wait this long.”

How long, I wondered, how long does one have to suffer to be able to admit it wasn’t fair?

I bore witness to his final act of courage. I looked at him, saw him, saw the reflection of my fear and shame as it slid down his cheeks.

“I know that no one can completely fill that empty space,” he sniffled.

Slowly, he lifted heavy eyelids. Our eyes found each other once more, and he chuckled at the sight of himself in my eyes.

“But I can try,” he said with a shrug. “I can try to make it smaller. Because I know where to stand and how to hold you. I can bring a flashlight and beautiful things to try to drown out the darkness just a little.”

I bit down on my lip but it slipped away. With it came the secret still kept tightly against my chest.

“I’m scared,” I offered.

“I know,” he accepted.

Tired, trembling arms held me higher. He pulled me from the wreckage until my arms fell around her shoulders and my face buried against his neck.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, “We’re gonna make it. I promise.”

In my own radical act of bravery, I allowed myself to believe it. I closed my eyes and I held him, too. With an equal amount of bravery, he let me.

And within the comfort of that embrace, I found a memory that didn’t exist; a vision between the kaleidoscope of colors behind closed eyes.

There were two children adorned with capes made of old curtains and a flashlight strapped to their heads. Their hands were tightly clasped and clammy, like kids’ hands always were. But his grip was strong and steady and neither of them felt scared.

The beams of light fought through thickets of darkness ahead of them.

“Are you ready?” he said through a bucktoothed grin.

He takes a step forward and they both notice how the light travels further with every step.

“Yeah,” the small child inside me says without a tremble in their voice, “let’s go home.”

They couldn’t know where they were going but they didn’t let it stop them. The trek was long and the journey was difficult, but it was made easier by the company of a friend.

With clammy hands tightly clasped, they tried to make their way through the darkness to that storied place where nothing bad happened.

I didn't go home for Mother's day.

And nothing bad happened.

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

Looking for more to read? Check out my CM Father's Day Rec List here! It has SFW and NSFW categories.

Reid Taglist: @mrs-dr-reid , @dreatine , @hopefulfangirl24 , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward , @wentz2005 , @lovejules888 , @dashneydanger , @materialisthicc , @violetspoetic , @mslowlife , @conniesanchor , @will-byers-needs-a-hug

Complete Taglist: @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @jayyeahthatsme

Thanks for reading!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid self insert

386 notes · View notes

cherubiyeon · 1 year ago

Text

she had the world | ive jang wonyoung x female reader

amidst the bustling cityscape of seoul, y/n, an inquisitive traveller from jeju, stumbles upon an art gallery.

✩ warnings. angst, mentions of affairs, strangers to friends with benefits, painter! wonyoung au, unrequited feelings, angst with unhappy ending

✩ word count. ~3k words

✩ playing﹒ she had the world [panic! at the disco]

their first encounter was serendipitous, as if the universe itself conspired to bring them together. y/n stood before wonyoung's painting, her eyes locked onto the colors that seemed to whisper untold secrets.

with a nervous yet determined heart, wonyoung approached, her voice barely above a whisper as she introduced herself as the artist. "hey, um— i'm wonyoung—the artist behind this painting. is there anything you'd... like to ask about this painting? or some feedback would be nice!"

y/n's smile was like sunlight breaking through storm clouds, illuminating her face with a warmth that sent shivers down wonyoung's spine. "wonyoung, what a beautiful name," y/n replied, her voice soft and melodic. "your art speaks to me on a level i can't quite explain. it's as if each brushstroke holds a piece of your soul."

wonyoung blushed, feeling a mixture of bashfulness and exhilaration. "thank you," she stammered. "your words mean so much to me! i-i put a lot of emotion into my art, and to know that it resonates with someone else... is the greatest compliment."

y/n extended her hand, a gesture of friendship that felt like an invitation into her world. "i'm y/n. i'm new to this city from jeju and i came to this gallery looking for something that could speak to my soul. i think i found it in your art."

as they shook hands, an electrifying connection surged through wonyoung's fingertips, leaving her breathless with anticipation. she couldn't shake the feeling that their meeting was no mere coincidence, but a tapestry woven by the hands of fate itself. the bustling gallery around them faded into a mere blur as they delved into a passionate discussion about art, life, and the inexplicable forces that intertwined their paths.

y/n's eyes, like pools of liquid amber, held wonyoung captive, drawing her deeper into their depths. each word that flowed from y/n's lips was a symphony, each laugh a melody that resonated within wonyoung's soul. she hung onto every syllable, cherishing the way y/n's voice danced in the air, a sweet serenade that intoxicated her senses.

days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, as their friendship blossomed amidst the city's backdrop. wonyoung found herself yearning for the stolen moments, the stolen glances that held a world of unspoken longing. she reveled in the small gestures—a brush of their hands as they walked side by side, a lingering touch that sent shivers down her spine.

but as the days stretched into a delicate tapestry of shared experiences, wonyoung couldn't help but feel the weight of unrequited love settle upon her shoulders. the tenderness in y/n's gaze, the warmth in her smile—it was a language that wonyoung longed to decipher, a love that she yearned to be reciprocated.

in the quiet corners of her heart, wonyoung weaved dreams of what could be. she imagined stolen kisses beneath the moonlit sky, whispered promises in the hushed sanctuary of their shared secrets. she envisioned a future where their worlds would collide, their lives intertwined like brushstrokes on a canvas.

the seasons danced on, their footsteps echoing in tandem with the rhythm of wonyoung's heart. spring blossomed, painting the city with hues of pastel dreams, while autumn whispered secrets of change in the crisp air. through it all, wonyoung remained by y/n's side, a silent witness to the ebbs and flows of their intertwined lives.

'twas a cool autumn evening, as the leaves rustled underfoot, y/n and wonyoung found themselves strolling along the riverbank. the water shimmered like liquid silver under the moon's tender gaze, mirroring the shimmer of unspoken emotions that swirled between them.

y/n leaned against the railing, her eyes fixed on the horizon. "isn't it beautiful, wonyoung?" she spoke, her voice carrying a hint of wonder. wonyoung continued in staring at the oblivious woman. "it is," wonyoung replied softly, her heart fluttering like a thousand butterflies in her chest.

as they strolled along the cobblestone path, wonyoung's heart beat a frenzied rhythm, her every word and touch infused with unspoken longing. "y/n... there's something i've been wanting to tell you," wonyoung ventured, her voice trembling with vulnerability.

y/n turned toward her, eyes brimming with curiosity. "what is it, wonyoung-ie?" she asked, her tone a gentle caress against wonyoung's fragile heart.

summoning her courage, wonyoung whispered, "these stolen moments we share... they mean more to me than i can express. you've become the compass that guides my every step, the light that illuminates the darkest corners of my soul."

a gentle breeze carried her words, intermingling with the symphony of rustling leaves. y/n's smile remained soft, the flicker of recognition barely registering in her eyes. "wonyoung, you're such an incredible friend. i treasure our bond more than you know," y/n replied, her words painting a painful melody that echoed within wonyoung's chest.

yet hope, a cruel mistress, refused to relinquish its grip on wonyoung's heart. she convinced herself that y/n's response held a glimmer of reciprocation, a silent invitation into the depths of an affair woven with stolen glances and moments of intimacy.

their encounters became clandestine meetings, hidden from prying eyes, their shared secrets whispered in the sanctity of moonlit gardens. wonyoung, her heart awash with both joy and torment, surrendered herself to the rapture of their stolen kisses, cherishing each stolen touch as if it were the last drop of an elixir she craved.

but in the shadows of their affair, y/n remained oblivious to the depth of wonyoung's love. her affectionate gestures, once interpreted as signs of reciprocation, became tainted with the innocence of friendship, blurring the boundaries between what was real and what wonyoung desperately wished to be.

wonyoung sat in her studio, surrounded by the remnants of her artistic endeavors. the room was filled with the scent of paint and the soft strains of music that mingled with her thoughts. she brushed a streak of vibrant red onto the canvas, her movements betraying the turmoil within her.

yunjin, her wise and caring friend, entered the room, her presence offering a fleeting solace. she glanced at wonyoung's creation, a mix of vibrant colors and raw emotion.

she raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. "hey there, picasso. pouring your heart out on the canvas again?"

Wonyoung offered a half-smile, appreciating Yunjin's attempt at making the atmosphere more lighter. "more like trying to make sense of the chaos inside," she replied, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

yunjin settled down on a nearby stool, her eyes filled with concern. "you've been a little distant lately. is everything okay?" wonyoung took a deep breath, but remained silent. "... it's about that y/n girl again, huh?"

Wonyoung took a deep breath, hesitating before she spoke her truth. "It's Y/N. I can't stop thinking about her, Yunjin. Every time she smiles at me or brushes against my hand, it's like fireworks exploding in my heart. I want to tell her how I feel, but I'm scared of what might happen."

yunjin leaned forward, her expression serious yet understanding. "look, wonyoung-ah, i get that love can be a rollercoaster of emotions. but before you go pouring your heart out, consider if you're ready for the consequences. what if things change between you two?"

wonyoung sighed, her gaze fixed on her trembling hands. "i know it's a risk, but i can't keep this bottled up any longer. it's eating me alive."

yunjin reached out, placing a reassuring hand on wonyoung's shoulder. "i'm not saying you shouldn't go for it, but just be prepared for any outcome. and remember, your friendship is precious. you don't want to lose that."

wonyoung nodded, appreciating yunjin's straightforward advice. "you're right. i just wish i could know what she feels without putting our friendship on the line."

wonyoung nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of unspoken desires. she watched as yunjin left the studio, leaving her alone with her thoughts. the silence enveloped her, and she found herself drawn to the canvas that stood before her—a painting of y/n.

the colors on the canvas danced with an ethereal grace, capturing the essence of y/n's spirit. wonyoung had poured her heart into every stroke, every brush of paint. in the painting, y/n's eyes were pools of stardust, a captivating glimpse into the universe she hid within. her lips curved into a soft smile that held a thousand untold stories. wonyoung had painstakingly spun the stars on her fingernails, each one a testament to the boundless dreams she saw in y/n's eyes. yet, despite the beauty she had immortalized on the canvas, it couldn't bring her the happiness she yearned for.

days turned into weeks, and wonyoung found herself lost in the depths of her emotions, yearning for a love that existed only in the fragments of her dreams. every stolen glance, every brush of their hands became a lifeline, fueling the fire that consumed her heart. but y/n remained blissfully unaware of the tempest brewing within wonyoung's soul, her gestures of friendship shrouded in innocence.

one evening, as the sun painted the sky in hues of fiery orange, wonyoung's phone buzzed, interrupting the solitude of her studio. a message from y/n flickered on the screen, inviting her to meet at their favorite cafe. hope surged within wonyoung's chest, intermingled with an undercurrent of nervous anticipation. little did she know that fate had prepared a cruel twist in the tale.

arriving at the cafe, the air crackled with a mixture of warmth and tension. wonyoung's heart pounded against her ribcage, its erratic rhythm echoing the storm raging within her. she spotted y/n, a vision of serenity amidst the bustling crowd, her smile a flicker of sunlight breaking through the clouds.

"hey," y/n greeted softly, her eyes holding a myriad of emotions as they met wonyoung's gaze.

wonyoung returned the greeting, her voice trembling slightly. "hey. what did you want to talk about?"

y/n's gaze flickered, her fingers nervously tracing the rim of her coffee cup. "i've been doing a lot of thinking, wonyoung. and i think it's time we stop... this."

wonyoung's breath caught in her throat, her world spiraling into chaos. she fought to steady herself, clinging to the last vestiges of hope. "stop what?"

y/n's eyes filled with regret, the weight of her words pressing heavily upon them. "our affair. i care about you deeply, but i can't ignore the fact that there's someone else in my life now."

time seemed to stand still as wonyoung's heart shattered into a million fractured pieces. the colors of the cafe faded, leaving behind a monochrome reality. she forced a smile, her voice strained as she tried to mask the devastation that threatened to consume her.

"someone else?" wonyoung repeated, her voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to acknowledge the truth.

y/n nodded, her gaze shifting to the floor. "his name is yunhan. we've been spending time together, and i think it's time to give our relationship a chance."

wonyoung's eyes burned, but she refused to let the tears fall. she clenched her fists, the pain radiating through her like a searing flame. it felt as if the world had conspired against her, weaving a tapestry of longing and heartbreak.

"i'm sorry," y/n murmured, her hand reaching out hesitantly, only to be met with wonyoung's withdrawal. "i never meant to hurt you."

wonyoung forced a smile, her voice tinged with a mixture of acceptance and resignation. "it's not your fault, y/n. we... can't force ourselves to love or not love someone.."

as the café's ambiance whispered tales of love and loss, wonyoung felt a silent plea escape her lips, carried away by the currents of time. she knew she had to release the hold on her unrequited love, to let it drift away like a leaf on the wind. it was a bittersweet acceptance, for in surrendering her heart, she set herself free from the chains of longing, even as the ache lingered deep within her soul.

the days that followed y/n's revelation were etched with a sorrow that clung to wonyoung's every breath. the weight of her unrequited love bore down upon her like an invisible burden, suffocating the vibrant hues of her existence. the unfinished painting of y/n, a testament to the fractured fragments of their temporary affair, seemed to mock her from its perch upon the easel.

one evening, in the depths of her despair, wonyoung stood before the painting, her hands trembling with a mixture of anguish and rage. the colors that once whispered secrets of love now appeared to taunt her, their vibrant dance a cruel reminder of the shattered dreams that lay in ruins. she contemplated tearing the canvas apart, obliterating the memories that held her captive. yet, in the end, she couldn't bring herself to do it. the painting held too much sentimental value, encapsulating a chapter of her life she couldn't entirely let go of.

with a sigh that echoed with resignation, wonyoung picked up her brush and faced the canvas. as her strokes danced across the surface, she poured her heartache into every brushstroke, the raw emotion bleeding onto the space. it was an act of defiance, a silent rebellion against the pain that threatened to consume her. she channeled her sorrow into art, using the colors as a language to express what words couldn't convey.

her fingers traced the contours of y/n's face, a mixture of sadness and longing clouding her eyes. "why couldn't you see how much i loved you?" she whispered, her voice carrying the weight of unspoken words and shattered dreams.

years passed, and wonyoung's perseverance bore fruit. the painting, born from the depths of her despair, gained recognition in the art world. its haunting beauty touched the souls of those who beheld it, a silent testament to the pain and longing embedded within its layers. wonyoung's name became synonymous with a tragic love story, her art an expression of the human experience.

one fateful day, amidst the hallowed halls of a museum, wonyoung found herself drawn to an ethereal presence. her gaze fell upon a child, their innocent eyes fixed upon the painting that had become her legacy. the child's fascination mirrored her own, a reflection of the profound connection art had the power to forge.

wonyoung's heart skipped a beat as her eyes fell upon the child. in that fleeting moment, she saw the ghost of y/n in the innocent gaze of the young girl. a bittersweet smile adorned wonyoung's lips as she nodded in understanding.

lost in a moment of bittersweet contemplation, wonyoung's reverie was interrupted by the child's mother, her voice tinged with worry. "haerin, where are you?" she called out, searching the vast space.

startled, wonyoung turned to face the source of the voice, and in that instant, time seemed to stand still. standing before her was y/n, a ghost from the past, now adorned with the grace of motherhood. their eyes locked, the unspoken words of their shared history hanging heavy in the air.

"mommy! mommy! look! this painting looks like you!" little haerin pointed at wonyoung's painting as y/n carried the small girl.

in that poignant reunion, the weight of their unfulfilled love reverberated through the silence. wonyoung's heart trembled, torn between the joy of seeing y/n once more and the painful reminder of what they could never have.

y/n approached, her voice tender and filled with regret. "wonyoung, it's been so long," she murmured, her eyes brimming with emotions left unsaid.

wonyoung's voice quivered, her heartache blending with a fragile glimmer of hope. "yes, it has. i never thought i'd see you again."

y/n's gaze shifted to the painting, her expression a wistful mix of nostalgia and sorrow. "your art has touched so many lives, wonyoung. it's a testament to the beauty that exists within your soul."

wonyoung's heart tightened at y/n's words, her voice heavy with unspoken pain. "do you know, y/n? this painting... it's you."

y/n's eyes widened, disbelief and longing flickering within them. "me? but... how?"

wonyoung's voice quivered, laden with the weight of unrequited love. "every stroke, every color... they are fragments of memories, of the love that bloomed within my heart. you were my muse, my inspiration. and yet, you never knew."

tears welled in y/n's eyes as she reached out to touch the canvas, as if trying to grasp the intangible emotions that permeated the artwork. "i never realized... i never knew."

wonyoung's heart shattered into a thousand pieces, her voice filled with aching vulnerability. "i wanted to tell you, to show you how much you meant to me. but fear held me back, and our paths diverged. now, all i have left are these brushstrokes, a portrait of a love that was never spoken."

y/n's voice quivered with a mixture of sadness and resignation. "wonyoung, i wish things could have been different. but life has its own way of guiding us. i've found happiness in a different path, one that doesn't intertwine with yours."

wonyoung's tears mingled with the colors of her masterpiece as she whispered, "i'm glad... i'm glad you've found happiness, even if it's not with me."

the weight of their unspoken emotions hung heavily in the air, the gallery a silent witness to the tragedy of their unfulfilled love. time seemed to stand still as they stood there, caught between the echoes of what could have been and the reality of their separate lives.

with a trembling breath, wonyoung turned away, her heart splintered but resolute. the pain of letting go mingled with the knowledge that their paths were meant to diverge, like two shooting stars blazing across the night sky before fading into obscurity.

238 notes · View notes

luna-azzurra · 2 years ago

Text

Soft Prompts for Couples Not Yet Together

1. "Fleeting Encounters": Picture this - two strangers who consistently find themselves in the same crowded places. There's an unexplainable connection, a sense of familiarity that leaves them wondering if the universe is trying to tell them something.

2. "Whispers of the Heart": Every conversation they have feels like a sweet symphony. The world around them fades into the background, and it's just the two of them, sharing intimate moments that make them wonder if friendship could turn into something more.

3. "Shy Smiles and Silent Longing": Across a room filled with people, their eyes meet, and it's like time stands still. Shy smiles are exchanged, hearts beating in synchrony. They both yearn for the courage to take that first step towards something extraordinary.

4. "The Bond of Late Nights": Late-night conversations become their sanctuary, a space where they open up and share pieces of their souls. Little do they know, their hearts are already entwined, silently falling for each other.

5. "The Serendipitous Crossings": In a whirlwind of missed opportunities, they keep crossing paths. Is it mere coincidence, or is there a higher force conspiring to bring them together? They can't help but wonder what destiny has in store for them.

6. "Confidants in the Dark": A shared secret or an unexpected vulnerability brings them closer. They become each other's confidants, weaving a bond that goes beyond surface-level connections.

7. "Passion's Connection": A shared hobby ignites their souls, their passions intertwining as they explore a world of common interests. But what they don't realize is that their connection extends far beyond the shared activity they love.

8. "The Glance that Changed Everything": Their eyes meet, and something shifts in the air. It's as if the universe pauses to witness their undeniable chemistry. In that moment, they both know that their lives are about to change forever.

9. "Teasing Fate": Friends playfully tease them about the palpable chemistry between them. But little do they know that deep down, they can't ignore the growing spark between their hearts. The question lingers: will they finally take that leap of faith?

10. "Melodies of Love": Music becomes their language, notes carrying the unspoken words they're too afraid to say. The rhythm of their connection dances to the beat of their hearts, a secret language of affection.

280 notes · View notes

mirisss · 8 months ago

Text

Deja Vu

Txt Beomgyu x afab! reader

Based on the lyrics for Deja Vu

Warnings: Angst, car crash, more angst like super angsty, let me know if I should add anything else

Wordcount ≈ 8.4k

Please reblog!

Third Person POV

Beomgyu had always found solace in the melodies he crafted, pouring his heart and soul into every note he played. It was during one of his impromptu piano sessions in the school's music room that fate intervened, weaving the threads of their destinies together. (Y/n) wandered the halls aimlessly, the strains of music drawing her like a magnet. Intrigued, she followed the sound until she found herself standing at the threshold of the music room, where a boy her age sat at the piano, lost in his own world of music. Mesmerized by both the beauty of the melody and the boy who created it, (Y/n) couldn't tear her gaze away. And as Beomgyu turned to find her standing there, a smile lighting up her face, he felt something stir within him, something he couldn't quite explain. They exchanged shy introductions, their hearts beating in tandem with the rhythm of the music that surrounded them. In that moment, two souls collided, bound together by the invisible threads of fate and the shared love of music.

From that serendipitous moment in the music room, Beomgyu and (Y/n) were inseparable. Their love grew like a melody, sweet and harmonious, filling every corner of their hearts. They spent endless hours together, sharing their hopes, dreams, and fears as they navigated the complexities of adolescence hand in hand. It didn't take long for them to realize the depth of their feelings for each other, and with hearts brimming with courage, they confessed their love under the soft glow of moonlight, their voices trembling with emotion. From that day forward, they were no longer just two individuals; they were a united force, bound by an unbreakable bond forged in the fires of passion and devotion. Their love was a symphony, each moment a beautiful crescendo building towards a future filled with endless possibilities.

As the years passed, Beomgyu and (Y/n) remained steadfast in their love, their bond growing stronger with each passing day. They journeyed through the trials and triumphs of young adulthood together, facing the world hand in hand.

Beomgyu pursued his passion for music with unwavering determination, honing his skills as a songwriter and musician. His melodies became a reflection of their love, each chord a testament to the depth of his feelings for (Y/n). Through his music, he poured out his heart, weaving their story into every verse, every chorus.

(Y/n), too, found her place in the world, her dreams intertwining with Beomgyu's as they embarked on their journey together. She pursued her own passions with fervor, her unwavering support serving as a constant source of strength for Beomgyu as he chased his dreams.

Together, they navigated the highs and lows of life, finding solace in each other's embrace during moments of doubt and uncertainty. Their love was a beacon of hope, guiding them through the darkest of times and illuminating the path ahead with the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

And though challenges arose, threatening to test the foundation of their love, Beomgyu and (Y/n) stood unwavering, their hearts intertwined in an unbreakable bond forged in the fires of adversity. For they knew that as long as they had each other, they could weather any storm that came their way.

As they stood on the precipice of the future, their hearts filled with hope and anticipation, Beomgyu and (Y/n) knew that their love would endure, transcending time and space to weave their destinies together for eternity.

As the fifth anniversary of their love approached, Beomgyu felt a surge of excitement coursing through his veins. This wasn't just any anniversary—it was a milestone, a testament to the enduring strength of their love. And he was determined to make it unforgettable.

With meticulous care and unwavering determination, Beomgyu set out to plan the perfect proposal for (Y/n). He enlisted the help of his closest friends, who eagerly joined forces to bring his vision to life. Together, they plotted and schemed, each detail carefully orchestrated to ensure that this day would be nothing short of magical.

On the morning of their anniversary, Beomgyu woke with a nervous energy thrumming beneath his skin. He double-checked every detail of his plan, making sure that everything was in place for the evening ahead. With a fluttering heart and a sense of anticipation building within him, he set out to prepare for the momentous occasion.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the beach, Beomgyu and (Y/n) arrived hand in hand, the sea breeze tousling their hair. What (Y/n) didn't know was that this wasn't just a casual outing—it was the beginning of a new chapter in their love story.

With a smile playing at the corners of his lips, Beomgyu led (Y/n) to a secluded spot on the sand, where a blanket was spread out beneath the starlit sky. The sound of crashing waves provided the soundtrack to their evening as they settled in, the air buzzing with anticipation.

As they sat together, sharing stories and laughter, Beomgyu's heart beat a frantic rhythm in his chest. And then, as the moment of truth drew near, he took (Y/n)'s hand in his, his gaze locked with hers, the world falling away around them.

With a trembling voice and tears glistening in his eyes, Beomgyu poured out his heart, professing his love for (Y/n) in words that danced on the breeze. And then, with a shaking hand, he produced a small velvet box from his pocket, opening it to reveal the shimmering ring nestled within.

"Will you marry me?" he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath, his heart hanging in the balance.

And at that moment, as (Y/n)'s eyes widened with shock and joy, Beomgyu knew that this—this was the best day of his life so far.

As Beomgyu's heartfelt proposal hung in the air, (Y/n)'s eyes filled with tears of joy, her heart overflowing with love. With a radiant smile, she nodded eagerly, her voice choked with emotion as she whispered, "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!"

And in that moment, as the setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange, pink, and purple, Beomgyu and (Y/n) shared a tender, passionate kiss, sealing their love and commitment to each other under the watchful gaze of the heavens above. Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in each other's embrace, the world around them fading into insignificance.

Wrapped in the warmth of their love, they knew that their journey together was only just beginning. With the promise of forever shining brightly in their hearts, Beomgyu and (Y/n) embarked on the next chapter of their love story, hand in hand, hearts entwined, and souls united as one.

As they watched the sun dip below the horizon, casting a blanket of stars across the night sky, they knew that their love would endure for eternity, a beacon of hope and light guiding them through the darkest of nights and the brightest of days.

Together, they stood against the backdrop of the universe, their love a masterpiece painted across the canvas of time, a testament to the power of love and the beauty of two souls finding their way back to each other, time and time again.

As Beomgyu and (Y/n) made their way home, their hearts still soaring from the magic of their engagement, fate had other plans in store. In the blink of an eye, their joyous journey was interrupted by the screech of tires and the sickening crunch of metal.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis as their car was violently jolted, spinning out of control in a cacophony of chaos and confusion. Time slowed to a crawl as Beomgyu's desperate cries filled the air, his hands tightening around the steering wheel in a futile attempt to regain control.

And then, with a deafening crash, everything went dark.

When Beomgyu finally regained consciousness, his head swimming and his body aching, he found himself surrounded by the wreckage of their car. Panic surged through him as he frantically searched for (Y/n), his heart seizing in his chest at the sight of her motionless form beside him.

With trembling hands, he reached out to gently shake her, his voice trembling with fear as he called out her name. And then, as if in a dream, (Y/n) stirred, her eyelids fluttering open to reveal dazed and confused eyes.

Relief flooded through Beomgyu like a tidal wave as he pulled her into his arms, holding her close as if afraid she might vanish into thin air. But even as he held her, a sense of dread gnawed at the edges of his consciousness, the realization sinking in that their lives would never be the same again.

As the sirens wailed in the distance and the lights of emergency vehicles illuminated the night sky, Beomgyu and (Y/n) clung to each other amidst the wreckage, their love serving as a beacon of hope in the darkness that surrounded them.

But for now, in this moment of uncertainty and fear, all that mattered was that they were together, united against the chaos of the world, their love a light in the darkness guiding them towards an uncertain future.

Beomgyu's heart pounded in his chest as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. The sterile scent of antiseptic hung heavy in the air, and the steady beep of machines served as a constant reminder of the fragility of life. Desperate to find (Y/n), he called out her name, his voice hoarse with emotion.

The nurses rushed to his side, their faces etched with concern as they gently explained the situation. (Y/n) was still in the operating room, they told him, her condition critical but stable. Beomgyu's breath caught in his throat at the news, his mind reeling with fear and uncertainty.

With trembling hands, he allowed the nurses to perform their examinations, their touch gentle but clinical as they assessed his injuries. But all the while, his thoughts remained fixated on (Y/n), his heart aching with the need to see her, to hold her close and reassure himself that she was alive and well.

As the minutes stretched into hours, Beomgyu found himself consumed by a sense of helplessness, his world narrowing to a single, all-consuming desire: to be by (Y/n)'s side. As he lay in his hospital bed, his body battered and broken, he made a silent vow to himself: no matter what it took, he would find a way to bring her back to him.

For she was his everything, his reason for living, and he would move heaven and earth to ensure that she emerged from this trial stronger than ever before.

And so, with determination burning bright in his eyes, Beomgyu closed his eyes and whispered a silent prayer to the universe, a plea for (Y/n)'s swift recovery and a future filled with love and happiness.

Relief flooded through Beomgyu like a tidal wave as the nurse delivered the news. With a heart full of hope and trepidation, he followed her down the sterile hospital corridors, each step bringing him closer to (Y/n)'s bedside.

As he entered the room, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of her lying there, pale and still, surrounded by a tangle of wires and tubes. His heart ached at the sight of her, so fragile and vulnerable, yet still so undeniably beautiful.

With trembling hands, Beomgyu approached the bed, his eyes never leaving (Y/n)'s face as he pulled up a chair beside her. Gently, he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from her forehead, his touch feather-light against her skin.

"Hey there, love," he whispered, his voice barely more than a whisper as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her cheek. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

And then, with a heavy heart and a soul weighed down by worry, Beomgyu settled into the chair beside (Y/n)'s bed, his gaze never wavering from her face as he waited for her to awaken.

Hours passed in a blur of anxious anticipation, each moment stretching into eternity as Beomgyu sat vigil by (Y/n)'s side. And then, just as he felt himself beginning to lose hope, a soft sigh escaped (Y/n)'s lips, her eyelids fluttering open to reveal dazed and confused eyes.

"(Y/n)?" Beomgyu breathed, his heart pounding in his chest as he leaned in closer, his eyes searching hers for any sign of recognition.

And then, in that moment, as their gazes locked and their souls connected, Beomgyu knew that everything would be okay. For they had weathered the storm together, and nothing in this world could ever tear them apart.

“Who are you?”

Beomgyu's world shattered in an instant as (Y/n)'s words pierced his heart like a dagger. The weight of her question hung heavy in the air, each syllable a crushing blow to his spirit. She didn't remember him. She didn't remember their love.

A suffocating wave of despair washed over him, stealing the air from his lungs and leaving him gasping for breath. He felt as though he were drowning, his mind consumed by a swirling vortex of confusion and anguish.

His body trembled uncontrollably as panic tightened its grip around his chest, squeezing the life from his veins. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but succumb to the overwhelming tide of emotion crashing over him.

The nurses rushed to his side, their voices a distant echo in the chaos of his mind as they guided him out of the room. His legs felt like lead, his steps unsteady as he stumbled blindly down the corridor, his vision blurred by tears he couldn't hold back.

And then, as the world spun around him and the darkness threatened to consume him whole, Beomgyu collapsed against the cold, unforgiving floor, his body wracked with sobs of despair.

For in that moment, as he lay broken and defeated, Beomgyu knew that he had lost more than just the love of his life. He had lost a part of himself, a part that could never be reclaimed.

And as the tears continued to fall and the echoes of his anguish reverberated through the empty halls, Beomgyu realized that he was truly alone.

As the days dragged on in the wake of the accident, Beomgyu found himself adrift in a sea of emptiness, his heart weighed down by the burden of (Y/n)'s forgotten love. Every moment without her felt like an eternity, each passing second a painful reminder of the gaping void that now occupied his soul.

Despite his own pain, Beomgyu knew that (Y/n) needed her family now more than ever. And so, with a heavy heart and a sense of resignation gnawing at his insides, he made the agonizing decision to reach out to them, to explain the situation and seek their help in guiding her through this tumultuous time.

The phone call was a blur of stilted conversation and forced pleasantries, the distance between them palpable even through the static of the line. (Y/n)'s parents offered words of comfort and reassurance, their voices laced with sympathy and concern. But try as they might, they could offer little solace to the shattered remains of Beomgyu's heart.

As the call came to an end and the line fell silent once more, Beomgyu felt a sense of desolation wash over him like a tidal wave. He was alone, utterly and completely alone, with nothing but his own thoughts and the echo of (Y/n)'s voice haunting his every waking moment.

Days turned into nights, and still, Beomgyu found himself trapped in the suffocating embrace of his grief. His once vibrant spirit had been extinguished, replaced by a hollow shell of the man he used to be.

And as he lay alone in the darkness, his tears a silent testament to the pain that consumed him, Beomgyu knew that he would never be whole again. For the love he had lost was a wound that would never fully heal, a scar etched into the fabric of his being for all eternity.

Yeonjun's heart weighed heavy with concern as he made his way to the hospital, his mind racing with thoughts of (Y/n) and the devastating impact the accident had wrought upon her life. He knew that he couldn't stand idly by while his friend suffered, that he had to do everything in his power to help her, to bring back the memories that had been stolen from her.

As he arrived at the hospital, Yeonjun's steps faltered for a moment, the gravity of the situation hitting him like a ton of bricks. But he quickly gathered his resolve, steeling himself for the task that lay ahead.

With a determined expression set upon his face, Yeonjun made his way to (Y/n)'s room, where her parents sat by her bedside, their faces etched with worry and exhaustion.

"Mr. and Mrs. [Last Name]," Yeonjun greeted them with a respectful nod, his voice soft but filled with conviction. "I know this must be a difficult time for all of us, but I want you to know that I'm here to help in any way I can."

(Y/n)'s parents looked up at Yeonjun with a mixture of surprise and gratitude, their eyes reflecting the pain and uncertainty that plagued their hearts.

"We appreciate your kindness, Yeonjun," (Y/n)'s mother said, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. "But we're at a loss as to how to help (Y/n). She doesn't remember anything, not even us."

Yeonjun's heart ached at the despair in her voice, his mind racing as he searched for a solution. And then, an idea sparked to life within him, a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to consume them all.

"I have an idea," Yeonjun said, his voice filled with determination. "It may be a long shot, but I think there's something we can try."

And with that, Yeonjun outlined his plan to (Y/n)'s parents, his words infused with a sense of hope and optimism that had been sorely lacking in the days since the accident.

For he knew that even in the darkest of times, there was always a sliver of light waiting to be found. And if there was even the slightest chance that they could bring back (Y/n)'s memories, then it was a chance worth taking.

Yeonjun's heart raced with newfound determination as he clung to the glimmer of hope that had ignited within him. Beomgyu's music—it was the key, the thread that could unravel the tangled web of (Y/n)'s lost memories. He had to believe it, had to cling to the possibility that the melodies Beomgyu had poured his heart and soul into could serve as a lifeline to the woman he loved.

With a sense of urgency propelling him forward, Yeonjun dashed back to Beomgyu's apartment, his mind ablaze with thoughts of the plan that had taken root in his mind. He burst through the door, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he searched for his friend amidst the shadows that loomed like specters in the dimly lit room.

"Beomgyu!" Yeonjun called out, his voice echoing in the silence that enveloped the apartment. "We need to go to the hospital, now!"

Beomgyu looked up from where he sat slumped on the couch, his eyes hollow and haunted, his spirit broken by the weight of his own grief. But there was a spark of something in Yeonjun's voice, a flicker of hope that refused to be extinguished.

"What's going on?" Beomgyu asked, his voice barely more than a whisper as he struggled to comprehend the urgency in his friend's words.

Yeonjun wasted no time in explaining his plan, his words tumbling out in a rush as he outlined his belief that Beomgyu's music held the power to awaken (Y/n)'s dormant memories. He pleaded with Beomgyu to come with him to the hospital, to play his songs for (Y/n) in the hopes that they would serve as a catalyst for her recovery.

For a moment, Beomgyu hesitated, the weight of his own doubts and fears threatening to crush him beneath their oppressive weight. But then, with a steely resolve burning in his eyes, he rose to his feet, his heart beating in time with the rhythm of his own determination.

"Let's go," Beomgyu said, his voice firm and unwavering as he followed Yeonjun out the door and into the unknown.

And as they made their way to the hospital, their footsteps echoing in the empty streets like a drumbeat of defiance, Beomgyu clung to the hope that had been ignited within him, praying to whatever higher power might be listening that his music would be enough to bring (Y/n) back to him.

As Beomgyu set up his small keyboard in (Y/n)'s hospital room, his heart pounded in his chest with a mixture of anticipation and fear. The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, the room filled with a palpable tension as the doctors and nurses looked on, their expressions a mix of skepticism and cautious optimism.

Beomgyu's hands trembled as he reached out to touch the keys, his fingers dancing across the familiar patterns with a sense of urgency born of desperation. His eyes were stained with tears, his heart heavy with the knowledge that (Y/n) still didn't remember his name, still didn't remember the love they had shared.

But he refused to give up hope. Not now, not when they had come so far, when they stood on the precipice of a miracle that could change everything.

With a deep breath and a silent prayer on his lips, Beomgyu began to play. The melody flowed from his fingertips like water from a spring, each note a brushstroke painting a portrait of their love, a testament to the bond that had once held them together.

And as the music filled the room, weaving its way into the very fabric of (Y/n)'s soul, Beomgyu felt something shift within him, a glimmer of recognition sparking to life in her eyes.

For a fleeting moment, it was as if time stood still as if the world held its breath in anticipation of what was to come. And then, with a soft sigh, (Y/n) spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"I remember this melody," she said, her words a balm to Beomgyu's wounded heart. "It's beautiful."

Tears welled in Beomgyu's eyes as he looked into (Y/n)'s gaze, seeing a flicker of something familiar, something he had feared lost forever. And in that moment, he knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it together, united by the power of love and the music that had brought them back to each other once more.

Week after week, Beomgyu returned to (Y/n)'s hospital room, his heart heavy with both hope and apprehension. With each visit, he watched as fragments of her memory began to resurface, like puzzle pieces slowly falling into place to reveal the picture of her past.

But alongside the moments of clarity and recognition, there were still shadows lurking in the corners of (Y/n)'s mind. Her short-term memory remained elusive, slipping through her fingers like grains of sand, leaving her grasping at memories that seemed just beyond her reach.

And yet, Beomgyu refused to lose faith. He continued to play his music for (Y/n), pouring his heart and soul into every note in the hopes that it would serve as a lifeline to the woman he loved.

With each melody that filled the room, Beomgyu watched as (Y/n)'s eyes lit up with a spark of recognition, her fingers tapping along to the rhythm as if trying to unlock the secrets hidden within the music.

And though she still struggled to remember his name, Beomgyu could see the progress she was making, the way her memories began to stitch themselves back together like a tapestry woven from the threads of her past.

But for Beomgyu, the most important thing was that (Y/n) was still fighting, still clinging to the hope that one day she would reclaim the memories that had been stolen from her.

And as he stood by her side, holding her hand and whispering words of encouragement into the silence of the hospital room, Beomgyu knew that no matter how long the road ahead might be, he would walk it with her, every step of the way.

For theirs was a love that transcended time and space, a bond forged in the fires of adversity and strengthened by the trials they had faced together. And no matter what the future held, Beomgyu would never give up hope that one day, (Y/n) would say his name once again.

Each week, as Beomgyu stepped into (Y/n)'s hospital room, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken longing, he couldn't shake the feeling of deja vu that washed over him like a tidal wave. It was as if time stood still in that room, trapped in an endless cycle of repetition and heartache.

As he approached (Y/n)'s bedside, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the room, he couldn't help but feel a sense of dread creeping over him. The familiar routine of introducing himself, of reaching out to a stranger who bore the face of the woman he loved, felt like a cruel twist of fate, a constant reminder of the gulf that lay between them.

And yet, despite the pain that threatened to consume him, Beomgyu refused to give up hope. Each week, he poured his heart and soul into his music, playing for (Y/n) with a fervor born of desperation, hoping against hope that this would be the moment when she would finally remember.

But week after week, his efforts were met with silence, (Y/n)'s eyes devoid of recognition as she gazed upon him with a mix of confusion and curiosity. It was like trying to break through a wall of glass, his words and music bouncing off the surface without ever making a dent.

And as the weeks turned into months, Beomgyu found himself trapped in a never-ending cycle of deja vu, each visit to (Y/n)'s bedside a painful reminder of the love that once was and the love that could be again if only she would remember.

But still, he refused to give up. For in the depths of his heart, he knew that their love was worth fighting for, worth enduring the pain and the uncertainty for the chance to hold her in his arms once more.

And so, with a heavy heart and a soul weighed down by the burden of unspoken longing, Beomgyu continued to visit (Y/n) each week, his love for her burning bright even in the darkest of times.

As the seasons changed and a year slipped by, (Y/n) was finally deemed well enough to return home, her recovery a slow and arduous journey fraught with uncertainty and setbacks. And yet, despite the progress she had made, there was one name that continued to elude her, one memory that remained stubbornly out of reach.

Beomgyu.

Try as she might, (Y/n) couldn't seem to recall the face or the voice of the piano boy who had once held her heart in the palm of his hand. His name felt like a puzzle piece that refused to fit into the intricate tapestry of her memories, a glaring absence in an otherwise complete picture.

And for Beomgyu, each passing day without (Y/n) by his side felt like a slow descent into madness, his heart aching with the pain of her absence. He had held onto hope for so long, clinging to the belief that one day she would remember him, that their love would triumph over the barriers of her fractured mind.

But as the months stretched into years and (Y/n)'s memory remained stubbornly elusive, Beomgyu found himself grappling with a sense of despair unlike anything he had ever known. It was like losing her all over again, the agony of her absence tearing at the very fabric of his soul.

And yet, despite the pain and the heartache, Beomgyu refused to give up hope. For deep down, he knew that their love was stronger than the vagaries of memory, that even if (Y/n) couldn't remember him now, there was still a chance that she would one day find her way back to him.

And so, with a heavy heart and a soul weighed down by the burden of unspoken longing, Beomgyu continued to hold onto hope, his love for (Y/n) burning bright even in the darkest of times.

For he knew that no matter how long the road ahead might be, their love would endure, a beacon of light guiding them through the darkest of nights and the brightest of days.

As the weeks turned into months and (Y/n) settled back into the familiarity of her parents' home, Beomgyu's visits became less frequent, until eventually, they ceased altogether. The pain of seeing her, of being so close yet so far from the love they once shared, had become too much to bear.

For Beomgyu, each visit had been like reopening a wound that refused to heal, the memories of their life together a constant reminder of everything they had lost. The sound of his music echoing through the empty corridors of (Y/n)'s mind served only to deepen the chasm between them, each note a dagger that pierced his heart with every melody.

And so, with a heavy heart and a soul weighed down by the burden of unspoken longing, Beomgyu retreated into the silence of his own grief, his memories of their life together a bittersweet symphony that played on a loop in the recesses of his mind.

Each resemblance to what once was, each flicker of recognition in (Y/n)'s eyes that never came, slowly chipped away at his soul, until all that was left was a hollow shell of the man he used to be. The pain of their lost love weighed heavy on his heart, dragging him down into the depths of despair with each passing day.

And as he stood alone in the silence of his empty apartment, the echoes of their laughter haunting the corners of his mind, Beomgyu knew that he had lost more than just (Y/n). He had lost a part of himself, a part that could never be reclaimed.

But even in the darkness, a small ember of hope still flickered within him, a reminder that love, no matter how lost or broken, could never truly be extinguished. And as he closed his eyes and let the tears fall, Beomgyu made a silent vow to himself: to carry the memories of their love with him always, even as he walked the lonely road ahead.

As the sweet piano notes that had become a familiar presence in (Y/n)'s home fell silent, the emptiness that filled the air seemed to weigh heavily on her heart. Though she couldn't recall the face or name of the person who had played those melodies, their absence left a void that echoed throughout the once lively house.

(Y/n) found herself drawn to the room where the piano stood, its keys untouched and gathering dust. With each passing day, the longing to remember grew stronger within her, a nagging ache that refused to be ignored. She yearned to unravel the mysteries of her past, to reclaim the memories that had slipped through her fingers like grains of sand.

Yeonjun, ever the devoted friend, tried his best to help (Y/n) piece together the fragments of her shattered memory, but despite his efforts, the memories remained stubbornly out of reach. The name "Beomgyu" felt like a distant echo in the recesses of her mind, just beyond her grasp.

And yet, (Y/n) refused to give up hope. She poured over old photographs and listened to recordings of the piano melodies that had once filled her home, hoping against hope that something would spark a flicker of recognition, a glimmer of memory.

She wanted to remember. She wanted it so badly.

Each day, (Y/n) felt as though she were standing on the edge of a precipice, teetering on the brink of something profound and life-altering. And though the journey ahead was fraught with uncertainty and fear, she knew that she couldn't turn back.

For buried deep within her heart, beneath the layers of forgotten memories and lost dreams, (Y/n) held onto a glimmer of hope—a belief that love, true and enduring, would always find a way to overcome even the greatest of obstacles.

And as she closed her eyes and let the haunting strains of Beomgyu's music wash over her, (Y/n) made a silent vow to herself: to never stop searching, to never stop hoping, until she had unlocked the secrets of her past and found her way back to the love she had lost.

As the night sky stretched out above them, a tapestry of stars glittering in the darkness, Yeonjun took (Y/n)'s hand in his, a gentle smile playing on his lips.

"Let's go for a walk," he suggested softly, his voice carrying on the gentle breeze that stirred the night air. "I want to show you something."

(Y/n) hesitated for a moment, uncertainty flickering in her eyes, but something in Yeonjun's earnest gaze convinced her to take a chance. And so, hand in hand, they ventured out into the cool night air, their footsteps echoing in the quiet stillness of the night.

As they walked, Yeonjun couldn't shake the feeling of anticipation that coursed through him, the hope that tonight might be the night when everything changed. He glanced ahead and saw Beomgyu standing under the canopy of stars, his silhouette a familiar yet distant figure against the night sky.

With a silent prayer in his heart, Yeonjun urged (Y/n) forward, his heart pounding in his chest as he willed fate to intervene. Perhaps if she ran into Beomgyu here, surrounded by the beauty of the night, she would remember. Perhaps the stars themselves would guide her back to him.

But as they drew closer, (Y/n) remained oblivious to the figure standing just ahead of them, her gaze fixed on the shimmering expanse of the night sky above. And though Yeonjun's heart sank with disappointment, he couldn't bring himself to give up hope.

As Beomgyu caught sight of Yeonjun and (Y/n) walking hand in hand beneath the canopy of stars, a rush of emotions flooded through him like a tidal wave. His heart ached with longing, his soul reaching out to her with a yearning that knew no bounds.

In that moment, he couldn't tear his gaze away from her, from the woman he had loved with every fiber of his being, the woman who still held a piece of his heart even as she stood just out of reach.

Memories of their time together flooded his mind, like fragments of a dream that he couldn't quite grasp. He remembered the day of the accident, the day they had gotten engaged, the promise he had made to her as they watched the setting sun paint the sky in hues of orange and pink.

"I'll always be here for you," he had whispered, his voice filled with conviction as he slipped the engagement ring onto her finger, a symbol of their love and commitment to each other.

And now, as he stood beneath the starlit sky, the weight of the ring pressing against his pocket, Beomgyu couldn't help but wonder if perhaps tonight was the night when everything would change. Perhaps tonight, under the watchful gaze of the stars above, (Y/n) would remember him, would remember the love they had shared.

With trembling hands, Beomgyu took a hesitant step forward, his heart pounding in his chest as he dared to hope for a miracle. He wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms like he used to, to whisper words of love and devotion into her ear until she remembered.

But even as he longed to reach out to her, to bridge the distance that separated them, Beomgyu knew that he couldn't force her to remember. Memories, like stars in the night sky, were fleeting and elusive, and all he could do was wait and hope for the day when (Y/n) would find her way back to him.

And so, with a heavy heart and a soul weighed down by the burden of unspoken longing, Beomgyu watched from a distance as Yeonjun and (Y/n) disappeared into the night, their silhouettes fading into the darkness like shadows on the wind.

But even as they disappeared from view, Beomgyu held onto hope, a flickering ember of light burning bright within him as he vowed to never give up on the love that had once defined his very existence.

For in the end, he knew that love was stronger than memory, stronger than time itself, and no matter how long the road ahead might be, he would always be waiting for (Y/n) with open arms and an open heart.

With a heavy heart and a soul weighed down by the weight of unspoken sorrow, Beomgyu made his way to (Y/n)'s home, his steps slow and deliberate as he prepared to face the painful truth that had been haunting him for far too long.

Two years had passed since the accident, two years of hoping and praying for a miracle that never came. Fate, it seemed, had made its decision, and no amount of wishing or yearning could change the hand they had been dealt.

With a heavy heart and a soul weighed down by the weight of unspoken sorrow, Beomgyu made his way to (Y/n)'s home, his footsteps slow and measured as he walked the familiar path one last time. The weight of the engagement ring in his pocket felt like a burden too heavy to bear, a constant reminder of the love they had shared and the dreams they had once dared to dream.

As he stood before (Y/n)'s doorstep, his heart pounding in his chest, Beomgyu knew that this was the moment he had been dreading, the moment when he would have to say goodbye to the woman he had loved with every fiber of his being.

With trembling hands, he reached into his pocket and retrieved the ring, its glimmering surface catching the soft light of the moon as he held it in his palm. It felt like a piece of his heart, a symbol of the love that had once bound them together, and now, it was time to set it free.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Beomgyu knocked softly on the door, his heart in his throat as he waited for (Y/n) to answer. And when she did, the sight of her took his breath away, her beauty undimmed by the passage of time.

"(Y/n)," he began, his voice barely above a whisper as he held out the ring to her. "I want you to have this. It's... it's the ring I proposed to you with. I want you to have it, to remember..."

But before he could finish his sentence, (Y/n) reached out and took the ring from his hand, her eyes brimming with unshed tears as she gazed up at him with a mixture of sadness and understanding.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of their beating hearts. "Thank you for everything."

And then, without another word, Beomgyu felt the tears begin to fall as he pulled (Y/n) into his arms, holding her close one last time. It was a bittersweet embrace, filled with the echoes of a love that could never be, a love that had been lost to the sands of time.

But even as he held her, Beomgyu knew that it was time to let go, to release her from the chains of their shared past and set her free to find her own path in life. And as they pulled away from each other, their eyes locked in a silent exchange of understanding, Beomgyu knew that he would always carry a piece of (Y/n) with him, a piece of her heart that would forever be intertwined with his own.

With a heavy heart and a soul weighed down by the burden of unspoken longing, Beomgyu turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the night as he left behind the love he had once held so dear.

For sometimes, he realized, fate had other plans. And even though their story had come to an end, Beomgyu knew that the memories of their love would live on forever in his heart.

As (Y/n) sat on her bed, the weight of the ring in her hand felt like a tangible reminder of a past she couldn't quite grasp. She remembered the man who had given it to her, remembered his gentle smile and the sadness in his eyes, but his name remained just out of reach, a phantom echo in the recesses of her mind.

And yet, as she stared at the ring, tracing the intricate design with her fingertips, a flood of memories washed over her like a tidal wave. She saw flashes of a beach, the soft sand beneath her feet, the gentle crash of waves against the shore. She saw the sky ablaze with hues of pink and orange as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the world in shades of fire and gold.

And then, she heard it—a warm and familiar voice whispering words of love and devotion into her ear, the sound sending shivers down her spine. "I love you," the voice said, its timbre like music to her ears, filling her with a sense of warmth and longing that she couldn't quite explain.

In that moment, (Y/n) felt a spark of recognition flicker to life within her, a sense of connection that transcended the boundaries of memory and time. Though she couldn't remember his name, she knew deep down that the man who had given her this ring had been someone special, someone who had touched her heart in ways she couldn't fully comprehend.

With a sense of determination settling over her like a cloak, (Y/n) made a silent vow to herself: to keep searching, to keep reaching for the memories that lay just beyond her grasp. For she knew that somewhere, deep within the recesses of her mind, the answers she sought were waiting to be found.

And as she slipped the ring onto her finger, feeling its weight against her skin like a promise of things to come, (Y/n) closed her eyes and whispered a silent prayer into the night, a prayer for guidance and for clarity, for the strength to remember the love that had once been hers.

For even if the road ahead was long and uncertain, (Y/n) knew that she would never stop searching for the truth, for the answers that lay hidden within the depths of her own heart.

As (Y/n) stepped out onto the street, her mind focused on the simple task of buying snacks, she was unaware of the danger that lurked just around the corner. Oblivious to the world around her, she continued on her way, the sounds of the city fading into the background as she lost herself in her thoughts.

But then, as she reached the middle of the street, a sense of unease washed over her like a wave, a feeling of impending danger that sent a shiver down her spine. And before she could react, she heard the screech of tires and the roar of an engine, the sound of impending disaster echoing in her ears.

In that split second, time seemed to stand still as (Y/n) found herself frozen in place, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared down the oncoming car, its headlights bearing down on her like a freight train hurtling towards its target.

And then, just as the car was about to make impact, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close to their chest with a force that knocked the breath from her lungs. She felt herself being lifted off her feet, carried to safety just in the nick of time as the car barreled past with inches to spare.

As the adrenaline coursed through her veins, (Y/n) clung to her savior, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to catch her breath. And as she looked up into the face of the person who had saved her, she felt a surge of recognition wash over her like a tidal wave.

It was him—the man from her memories, the man whose name still eluded her but whose presence felt like coming home. In that moment, as they stood together in the aftermath of the near miss, (Y/n) felt a sense of connection that transcended the boundaries of time and memory, a bond forged in the fires of adversity.

And as she looked into his eyes, she knew with a certainty that defied explanation: fate had brought them together once again, and this time, she wouldn't let him slip away.

As the word "Beomgyu" slipped past (Y/n)'s lips, it hung in the air like a melody, a single note that reverberated through the silence of the street. And though she couldn't explain the sudden surge of recognition that washed over her, she knew with a certainty that defied logic: this was his name, the name of the man who had saved her life and captured her heart.

Beomgyu's breath caught in his throat as he stared down at her, his heart pounding in his chest with a ferocity that threatened to consume him. It was as if time stood still in that moment, the world falling away until there was only the two of them, bound together by the invisible threads of fate and destiny.

"Say it louder, please," Beomgyu whispered, his voice barely above a whisper as he pleaded with her to speak his name once more. His heart hung in the balance, teetering on the edge of hope and despair as he waited with bated breath for her response.

And then, as if guided by some unseen force, (Y/n) took a deep breath and said it again, louder this time, with a sense of conviction that sent shivers down Beomgyu's spine.

"Beomgyu."

The sound of her voice filled him with a sense of wonder and awe, like the first rays of sunlight breaking through the clouds after a storm. It was a name that held within it the promise of a love that had transcended time and space, a love that had endured even in the face of overwhelming odds.

And as he looked into her eyes, Beomgyu felt a sense of peace settle over him like a warm blanket, knowing that no matter what trials lay ahead, they would face them together, united by the bond that had been forged between them.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion as he pulled her into his arms, holding her close as if he never wanted to let her go. "Thank you for remembering."

And as they stood together in the glow of the streetlights, their hearts beating as one, (Y/n) knew with a certainty that defied explanation: fate had brought them together for a reason, and nothing in this world could ever tear them apart again.

As (Y/n) stood there, wrapped in Beomgyu's embrace, a sense of clarity washed over her like a cleansing tide. Though she still couldn't recall every detail of their past, she knew with a certainty that defied explanation: her future was with him, and nothing in this world could ever change that.

With tears glistening in her eyes, (Y/n) looked up at Beomgyu, her voice filled with conviction as she spoke the words that echoed in her heart.

"I remember that my future is you, Beomgyu," she whispered, her words a solemn vow that hung in the air between them like a promise. "My future is with you."

And as she spoke, Beomgyu felt a sense of wonder and awe wash over him, like a wave crashing against the shore of his soul. It was a moment of profound realization, a moment when the pieces of their shattered past began to fall into place, forming a mosaic of love and hope that stretched out before them like a roadmap to eternity.

With a smile that lit up the darkness of the night, Beomgyu took (Y/n)'s hand in his, his heart overflowing with gratitude and joy. In that moment, as they stood together beneath the starlit sky, he knew with a certainty that defied explanation: their love was stronger than fate, stronger than memory, stronger than anything this world could ever throw their way.

And as they walked hand in hand into the uncertain future that lay ahead, (Y/n) and Beomgyu knew that no matter what trials they faced, they would face them together, united in a love that had endured the test of time.

For in the end, they had found each other once again, and in each other's arms, they knew they had found home.

40 notes · View notes

bitchiswild · 1 year ago

Text

Right Where You Left Me

Jennie Kim X F!Reader

Warnings: Sad

Word Count: 2.3k

A/n: angst time?

Requested

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Their love story was everyone's favorite tale—a charming narrative intertwined with childhood memories and serendipitous meetings. Everyone, from their families to friends and the media, adored Jennie and Y/n. Their families' close bond meant She crossed paths frequently, filling their early years with shared laughter and adventures.

In the midst of these cherished moments, something changed. Y/n's heart began to flutter whenever Jennie was near, convinced that destiny had a hand in weaving their story together. However, Jennie's feelings danced in a more mysterious rhythm.

For Y/n, each stolen glance and shared conversation painted a picture-perfect romance, a story spun by fate itself. But love isn't always a symphony played in unison; sometimes, one heart sings a little louder than the other.

In Y/n's eyes, the love story felt like a beautiful fairytale in progress, orchestrated by destiny's gentle nudges. Yet, beyond this enchanting narrative lay a more intricate reality, where Jennie's emotions might have swayed to a different tune, creating a delightful yet perplexing harmony between their feelings.

The delicate dance of affection and perception began to shape their relationship. While Y/n's heart soared with affection, Jennie might have been composing her own version of this enchanting tale, leaving Y/n to cherish the moments with hopeful longing, unaware of the subtle nuances in Jennie's feelings.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Jennie was fashionably late, as always, but this time, it felt different. Y/n had arrived punctually at 9:30 pm, heart racing with nerves and excitement, knowing this night was going to change everything. As the hours stretched past 11 pm and still, there was no sign of Jennie, anxiety coiled tighter within Y/n's chest.

The persistent waiter kept returning, a mix of concern and annoyance etched on their face. She'd inquire if Y/n was ready to order or if their date was en route, but Y/n, clinging to hope, asked for more time, pleading silently for Jennie's arrival.

As the clock struck midnight, the atmosphere shifted, the once-bustling restaurant now quiet, the waiters' patience wearing thin. Their eyes conveyed sympathy for the hopeful figure sitting alone, holding onto an unraveling dream.

"She's fashionably late, but this... this isn't like her," Y/n whispered, a hollow attempt at humor failing to mask the heartache.

The waiter, now more understanding than amused, offered a comforting smile. "Some detour, huh? Maybe I should've put a tracker on her for you."

Y/n managed a weak chuckle, their heart heavy with the weight of disappointment. "Might need that, or a crystal ball. Seems like tonight took a different turn."

The restaurant staff exchanged resigned glances, silently empathizing with Y/n's silent turmoil.

"I'll go prepare that 'search party dish' now," the waiter joked half-heartedly, trying to ease the palpable tension in the air.

Y/n forced a smile, a tear threatening to escape. "I think I'll pass on that. Thank you, though."

As the night wore on and the restaurant prepared to close, Y/n signaled the waiter with a defeated expression. "I'll... I'll just settle the bill, please."

The waiter nodded solemnly, "Sure thing. Sorry about tonight. Some people don't realize the value of someone else's time."

Y/n managed a nod, a pang of hurt lingering in their eyes. "Yeah, some clocks just don't sync up. Thanks for understanding."

As Y/n settled the bill, the weight of the evening's unmet expectations settled in. The ring in their pocket, meant for a proposal, felt heavier than ever.

In the eerie quiet of the near-deserted restaurant, Y/n sat, lost in a vortex of emotions, feeling the weight of shattered expectations. With a heavy heart, She remained in the corner She'd chosen earlier, the dim light casting elongated shadows across the table.

As the minutes ticked by, each second seemed to stretch into an eternity. The silence was almost tangible, broken only by the faint murmur of the staff cleaning up and the distant sound of a glass shattering on the pristine white tablecloth.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat, their head jerking up at the sudden sound. For a moment, the entire room seemed to hold its breath. In the fragmented reflection of the broken glass, Y/n saw a distorted image of their own shattered hopes and dreams.

The staff rushed to clean up the mess, a flurry of apologies and hasty attempts to rectify the accident. But for Y/n, the shattered glass felt symbolic, mirroring the fragments of their carefully laid plans and the fractured expectations of the night.

Feeling a wave of emotions crashing over them, Y/n rose slowly from the seat, their movements mechanical as She retrieved their jacket. As She walked past the broken glass, She felt an odd kinship with its brokenness.

Outside, the cool night air enveloped Y/n, a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside. The street lights flickered, casting uneven shadows on the pavement. Y/n paused on the sidewalk, taking a deep breath, trying to gather the scattered pieces of their composure.

With each step away from the restaurant, Y/n felt the weight of the unspoken words and unfulfilled plans grow lighter. The ring, tucked away in their pocket, now felt like a burden released, a symbol of a future that might have been but wasn't meant to be.

Despite the heartache, a glimmer of resilience flickered within Y/n. She squared their shoulders, taking one last look at the restaurant's dimly lit window, where moments ago, She had hoped for a different outcome. With a bittersweet sigh, Y/n turned the corner, stepping away from the haunting scene and into the uncertain expanse of the night, ready to navigate a new chapter, one step at a time.

The encounter was surreal, almost like a scene from a nightmare that Y/n desperately wanted to wake up from. As Jennie appeared suddenly, the shock on Y/n's face was evident, her eyes a mirror of hurt and disappointment.

"Jennie, you're late," Y/n's voice cut through the air, icy and laden with the weight of dashed expectations. Jennie's response was callous, her eyes void of remorse. "I know," she replied, the indifference in her tone hitting Y/n like a physical blow.

"Why, Jennie?" Y/n's voice cracked with hurt, a plea for an explanation.

But Jennie's expression hardened, her words cutting deeper than any knife. "I never really liked you. Everything we had was fake. I want to break up."

The revelation hit Y/n like a sudden gust of cold wind, knocking the breath out of her. The realization that she had been used for years by the person she loved most shattered Y/n's world.

"Please, Jennie, don't do this," Y/n begged, tears threatening to spill over, her heart breaking into irreparable fragments.

But Jennie remained resolute, her demeanor unyielding. "Get it through your brain, Y/n. I. Don't. Like. You," she emphasized each word, her cruelty cutting deeper than any insult.

Y/n pleaded, her heart laid bare, but Jennie pushed her away, callously leaving her sobbing on the unforgiving streets. The onlookers in the restaurant felt the weight of Y/n's despair, their empathy palpable as She witnessed the shattering of a heart in real-time.

Alone and broken, Y/n crumbled onto the sidewalk, the world around her blurring through the tears. The pain was unbearable, a piercing ache that seemed to echo through every fiber of her being. Despite the betrayal, the love she held for Jennie lingered, an agonizing reminder of a bond that was once cherished.

Amidst the overwhelming sorrow, a glint of silver caught Y/n's eye—a small velvet box, now crushed within her pocket. Inside rested a ring, a symbol of a future Y/n had eagerly anticipated, a future where she wanted to propose to Jennie, to solidify their love forever.

Clutching the now crumpled box tightly, Y/n's sobs grew louder, the weight of unspoken words and shattered dreams pressing down on her. The night seemed to close in, the stars blinking dimly above, as Y/n wrestled with the heartache of a love that had soured so painfully, a love that had crumbled before it could bloom fully.

In the wake of Y/n and Jennie's abrupt and publicized breakup, the once vibrant presence of the favorite couple vanished into an eerie silence. Speculations buzzed for a brief moment before a thick veil of quietness descended, muffling the once-lively discussions.

Online spaces, once adorned with the shared adventures and affectionate moments of the beloved duo, now stood starkly empty. Social media feeds that had once overflowed with snapshots of their happiness became barren landscapes, void of any trace of their past romance. It was as if a digital eraser had swept through, wiping away their shared history in a blink.

For days, the absence of any updates, posts, or mentions of Y/n left a haunting void in the virtual world. Fans and followers, once avidly following the couple's every move, found themselves met with a wall of silence. The absence of any explanation or closure only added to the mystery surrounding the sudden disappearance.

Rumors swirled like dust in the wind, attempting to fill the void left by the absence of information. Some speculated about Y/n's well-being, concerned whispers echoing in online forums. Others pondered the reasons behind the breakup, piecing together fragments of information from the past in a futile attempt to make sense of the situation.

The restaurant, once a witness to hopes and dreams now shattered, held an eerie familiarity that Y/n couldn't shake. Despite the passage of time and the vanishing traces of their shared past from the public eye, Y/n found herself drawn back to the haunting scene of their failed rendezvous.

Sitting in the same corner, amidst the tables that once held promises and tender whispers, Y/n's heartache seemed palpable in the dimly lit space. The memories flooded back, an uninvited cascade of emotions that refused to fade with the passing days.

The silence of the restaurant echoed the hollow ache within Y/n's chest. Every corner held a ghost of a moment, each table a reminder of laughter and stolen glances. The weight of unanswered questions hung heavy in the air, mingling with the scent of forgotten dreams.

Lost in the melancholic ambiance, Y/n traced invisible patterns on the table, thoughts swirling like a tempest within. The pain of betrayal and heartbreak lingered, refusing to dissipate with time, as if frozen in that moment when everything fell apart.

Despite the emptiness that surrounded her, Y/n found solace in the familiarity of the space. It was a paradoxical sanctuary—a place where the heartache thrived, yet where Y/n sought refuge to confront the remnants of a love that once defined her existence.

As the restaurant stood frozen in time, a relic of memories now tainted with heartache and unanswered questions. Yet, amidst the bustling city, in the corner of that hauntingly silent eatery, Y/n remained.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, but Y/n seemed anchored to that spot, a specter haunting the table where promises were shattered and dreams turned to dust. The world around Y/n continued to move forward, but for them, time had halted, trapped in a perpetual loop of anguish and longing.

The once-vibrant spirit had dimmed, eclipsed by the overwhelming weight of abandonment and betrayal. As days stretched into an eternity, the restaurant staff grew accustomed to the solitary figure, a silent witness to the ebb and flow of patrons who filled the once-empty seats.

Y/n sat, cross-legged in that corner, surrounded by the echoes of past laughter and whispered confessions. The lyrics of a mournful song played on repeat in their mind, a haunting melody that mirrored the ache in their soul.

"You left me, you left me no, oh, you left me no. You left me no choice but to stay here forever."

The words reverberated in the emptiness of the restaurant, a haunting refrain that echoed the resignation and heartbreak Y/n felt. The outside world had moved on, but for Y/n, time had crystallized in that desolate space, a prison of their own making born from shattered love and unhealed wounds.

Yet, in the midst of the desolation, a glimmer of hope flickered faintly. A distant voice, a gentle reminder from within, whispered of resilience and the possibility of healing. It was a beacon in the darkness, a whisper of courage urging Y/n to break free from the chains of heartache and reclaim their own narrative.

With a deep breath, Y/n stirred from the corner She had haunted for so long. Slowly, She rose from the seat, a newfound determination sparking in their eyes. The restaurant, once a symbol of despair, now became a backdrop to a newfound resolve.

Leaving behind the echoes of a shattered love story, Y/n stepped out into the bustling world, embracing the uncertain expanse ahead. The haunting refrain faded into the distance, replaced by the symphony of life's possibilities, signaling the beginning of a journey toward healing and self-discovery.

Life carried on, as it always does, with the bustling energy of the city engulfing the restaurant in its perpetual motion. Patrons came and went, the memory of Y/n's prolonged stay slowly fading into the recesses of their collective consciousness.

For Y/n, the world outside that corner had beckoned with its promise of new beginnings. She had ventured beyond the haunting confines of the restaurant, stepping into the unknown expanse, their destination shrouded in the veils of anonymity and healing.

The whispers about Y/n's departure dwindled, replaced by the ceaseless rhythm of the city. The patrons eventually moved on, their curiosity giving way to the everyday bustle of life, leaving behind the enigmatic figure who had once haunted the corner of the restaurant, their story and destination a mystery lost in the passage of time.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

#bitchiswild #BIW.WRITES #blackpink x fem reader #blackpink x reader #blackpink fanfic #blackpink imagines #blackpink jennie #kim jennie #jennie ruby jane #jennie x reader #jennie kim #jennie kim x reader #Spotify

112 notes · View notes

kingstonromcom · 2 years ago

Text

Passionate Strokes // Benedict Bridgerton

Masterlist | Join Taglist !!

↳ tags : benedict bridgerton x male reader,benedict bridgerton x reader,bxb,bridgerton.

↳ pronouns used : he/him/his

↳ word count : 3,466

↳ note : i haven't seen ANY benedict x male reader's sadly, so i decided to write one of my own :)), ALSO tysm for the likes on the other post !!

Chapter 1: The Encounter

In the bustling streets of London's labyrinthine alleys, Benedict Bridgerton found himself ensnared by a mysterious figure, emanating an aura of ethereal allure. Their paths converged on a serendipitous afternoon, and a fleeting exchange of glances set Benedict's heart ablaze, as if a thousand sonnets whispered in his veins.

Chapter 2: Hidden Desires

The vivid image of this enigmatic being refused to relinquish its hold on Benedict's thoughts. Night after starlit night, he sought solace in the sanctuary of his studio, where passion coursed through his fingertips onto the blank canvas. Each brushstroke became a dance, imbued with a fervent desire to capture the very essence of this man who had awakened the dormant chords of his soul.

Chapter 3: Painting the Unseen

Time unfolded like an unfathomable tapestry as Benedict's obsession deepened, roots burrowing into the sublime contours of the man's countenance. With an artist's discerning eye, he etched every delicate line into the alcoves of his memory, translating them onto the canvas with a palette of moonlit hues. Each brushstroke became an impassioned plea, a symphony of silent longing resonating within the unspoken spaces.

Chapter 4: A Secret Unveiled

The tapestry of fate weaved an unforeseen strand of destiny, guiding the man into Benedict's hallowed studio. In a delicate dance of chance, the man stumbled upon the myriad of portraits adorning the walls, his eyes encountering the embodiment of his own enigma. In that breathless moment, the atmosphere shimmered with electric anticipation, a wordless symphony conducted solely by the heart's percussive rhythm.

Chapter 5: Mutual Awakening

Emotions, wild and untamed, surged beneath the surface, birthing unspoken verses that yearned to be sung. Amidst the sacred silence, their souls entwined, painting a sonnet of connection that transcended the boundaries of spoken language. A shared vulnerability bound them together, their hearts united in a harmonious crescendo, where the unspoken became their mutual language.

Chapter 6: Love on Canvas

Within the ethereal haze of their burgeoning love, Benedict's art bloomed, capturing the divine essence of their intertwined existence. Each brushstroke wove a tapestry of adoration, breathing life into pigments that danced and whispered their secrets. The paintings became a melodic testimony, a love song in pigmented verse, where the depths of their passion painted the symphony of their devotion.

Chapter 7: A Masterpiece of Love

Benedict's art, like a poet's quill, flourished, immortalizing their love story in vivid strokes upon the canvas. The world, enraptured by the poignant portrayal of desire and connection, marveled at the raw intensity conveyed within each brushstroke. Yet, only Benedict and his muse knew the untold verses, the unsung stanzas, the profound love that inspired these masterpieces—a love whispered in hushed breaths and ardent embraces.

Epilogue: A Love Beyond Art

Benedict and his muse, their souls forever intertwined, ventured forth hand in hand, their love an eternal sonnet. Through the tapestry of their shared journey—passion, art, and self-discovery—they discovered solace within the other's embrace. While their paintings stood as resplendent testaments to their love, their true masterpiece would forever be the symphony they composed—a love that defied conventions, a love that kindled their spirits, forever altering the course of their lives.

#benedict bridgerton x male reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #netflix #bxb #bridgerton #male reader #pls read #i love this man sm #poetry

157 notes · View notes

zapreportsblog · 1 year ago

Note

Hello hope your doing well would like to make a request for poly volturi king/fem reader (human) she’s an exotic dancer and her uni que form of dancin always causes a form of hypnosis and euforia in people. Since she’s so good she been talked about all around voltera. So much so that even vampire got curious and checked her out. One night the kings decide to go and see what the did is about . Let just say they are impressed. Marcus also happens to tell them we jus found our mate how serendipitous. The leave that night shook and satisfied also happy her dancing is exquisite. Fem reader is different when she’s dancing she gets more confident but once she’s out of that place she back to her slightly insecure self . Her last boyfriend really took a toll on her since he. Constantly criticizing her figure and was not supporting her dancing for him it felt almost like she like to get looked at by men. When in reality she danced for everyone. She wanted people to be happy when they watch her and she’s loved music she dances to ever genre but loaves rock. One day one of the clients after she’s dancing was over get to hands and tries to follow her home the man does not have good intentions ( if you feel uncomfortable writting SA you can think of another reason ) the volturi where also there and saw the man and have been watching all her dancing ever since they found she was their mate so the three kings where around figuring out away to tell herZ they see this fool going to try and do something and immediately save her. She was beat up . The kings where furious 😡 he definitely fucked up didn’t end well for him. After the rescue her they present themselves to her. Needless to say they are shook when she basically accepts what they are she pretty open minded about thing there’s a lot of things that happen in this world that cannot be explained so she expect that other creatures could exist she’s fascinated. Agreed to get to know them and move in with them she’s is really attacked to them even though she’s scared because her last relationship was a disaster she could not let her fear sabotage what could be a good relationship with the kings.. she gives herself a chance to be happy. Weeks pas and everyone loved and accepted her as queen. She even helps out and love to sit on the kind laps when they do their trials.🥰

Holy shit you definitely was detailed 😩

❝the enchanting dance❞

✭ pairing : volturi kings x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (y/n) is a dancer and her performances just so happen to catch the attention of some unexpected guests in the crowd, from then on her fate is sealed

✭ twilight masterlist

In the heart of Volterra, a city cloaked in shadows and secrets, there was a legend that danced through the narrow cobblestone streets. (Y/N), a street dancer unlike any other, was the talk of the town. Her unique form of dance had a mesmerizing quality that seemed to cast a spell on anyone who watched.

She moved with a grace and precision that defied human limitations. Her body seemed to flow like liquid fire, and her movements were a hypnotic symphony of rhythm and grace. When she danced, a euphoria washed over the crowd, leaving them spellbound and entranced.

The rumors about (Y/N) had spread far and wide, reaching even the ears of the Volturi, the ancient vampire royalty who ruled over Volterra with an iron fist. Intrigued by the whispers of her bewitching performances, the three Volturi kings decided to venture out one fateful night to witness the phenomenon for themselves.

Aro, the charismatic leader of the Volturi, Marcus, the stoic and perceptive one, and Caius, the ruthless enforcer, made their way to the heart of Volterra under the cover of darkness. They arrived at the bustling square where (Y/N) was known to perform, blending in seamlessly with the crowd.

As (Y/N) took her place in the center of the square, the night seemed to hold its breath in anticipation. Her movements began slowly, as if she were weaving a tapestry of magic with her body. Her lithe form twisted and turned, her feet barely touching the ground.

The crowd watched in awe as (Y/N) danced. Her every step was a spell, her every gesture a hypnotic incantation. The euphoria she emanated washed over them like a gentle wave, and they couldn't tear their eyes away from her.

Aro, his eyes wide with fascination, turned to his fellow kings. "Remarkable," he murmured, his voice filled with wonder. "I've never seen anything quite like this."

Caius, who was rarely moved by anything, found himself entranced by (Y/N)'s dance. "She possesses a rare gift," he admitted, his gaze fixed on her with an intensity he reserved for the most captivating of prey.

But it was Marcus, the most reserved of the trio, who felt the deepest connection to the enchanting dancer. As he watched (Y/N) move, a sense of serendipity washed over him, a feeling that he couldn't ignore.

"We've just found our mate," Marcus whispered, his voice barely audible above the music and the crowd's collective euphoria.

Aro and Caius turned to Marcus, surprised by his words. But when they looked back at (Y/N), they couldn't deny the truth in his statement. The bond that had formed between them, forged in the midst of (Y/N)'s hypnotic dance, was undeniable.

As the crowd erupted in applause, (Y/N) finished her performance with a final, breathtaking flourish. She stepped out of the spotlight, her chest heaving with exertion, and looked out into the night, where the three Volturi kings stood waiting.

Little did she know that her life was about to take a mesmerizing and perilous turn, as she became entangled in the world of vampires and the ancient power of the Volturi.

As (Y/N)'s dance came to a breathtaking end, the crowd erupted in applause, showering her with adoration and admiration. Her unique form of expression had left everyone spellbound, including the three Volturi kings who had ventured out to witness her performance.

Aro, Caius, and Marcus stepped out of the crowd and into the shadows, their minds still reeling from the euphoria they had experienced. They found themselves in a rare state of satisfaction, each one profoundly moved by (Y/N)'s mesmerizing dance.

"That was... exquisite," Aro mused, his eyes reflecting the brilliance of the performance. "I've seen many things in my long existence, but nothing quite like this."

Caius, a man of few words, nodded in agreement. "She possesses a talent that transcends human limitations," he remarked, still captivated by the memory of (Y/N)'s dance.

It was Marcus, however, who had been the most affected. He had felt a connection to (Y/N) on a level he couldn't explain, a bond that had been forged in the midst of her enchanting performance. He turned to his fellow kings, his expression one of quiet satisfaction.

"Her dance... it awakened something within me," Marcus confessed, his words filled with a rare vulnerability. "I believe we've found something truly remarkable tonight."

As they made their way back to the dark recesses of Volterra, the Volturi kings couldn't shake the feeling that (Y/N) had become a pivotal part of their lives. Her dance had left an indelible mark on their immortal souls, and they were eager to learn more about the enigmatic dancer.

Unbeknownst to them, (Y/N) had returned to her life outside of the square, her confidence waning with every step she took away from the spotlight. The cheers and applause still echoed in her ears, but the harsh memories of her past relationship lingered in her mind.

Her ex-boyfriend's cruel words had left scars on her self-esteem, making her doubt her worth and her talent. He had misunderstood her love for dance, thinking it was merely a means to gain attention from men. In reality, (Y/N) danced to bring joy and happiness to all who watched, and she cherished every genre, but rock held a special place in her heart.

That night, as (Y/N) returned to her modest apartment, she couldn't help but feel the weight of her insecurities and past heartaches. Little did she know that her world was about to be transformed, as the Volturi kings, captivated by her extraordinary talent and beauty, began to make plans to see her again, to unravel the mystery of the mesmerizing dancer who had stolen their immortal hearts.

The night was dark and moonless as (Y/N) left the dimly lit club where she had just finished her mesmerizing dance. The euphoria of her performance had faded, and she had returned to her usual state of insecurity. As she walked through the shadowy streets, the echoes of her ex-boyfriend's harsh criticisms haunted her.

‘Not only are you dancing for men on the streets but now you’re dancing for men in clubs. God you’re such a whore.’

Unbeknownst to her, one of the clients from the club, a man with sinister intentions, had followed her discreetly. His predatory gaze never wavered as he trailed behind her, fueled by malicious desires.

Meanwhile, the Volturi kings, who had been watching her performances from the shadows, were well aware of the dangers that lurked in the night. Their bond with (Y/N) had grown stronger with each passing day, and they had been silently discussing how to approach her and reveal their true nature.

As (Y/N) turned down a dimly lit alleyway, the malicious intentions of her pursuer became all too apparent. The man lunged at her, his intentions clear. Fear surged through her veins as she struggled to fend off her attacker, her strength no match for his brutal force.

But just as hope seemed to wane, a sudden burst of movement from the shadows caught the man's attention. He barely had time to react before three imposing figures emerged, their eyes glinting with an otherworldly glow.

The Volturi kings, Aro, Caius, and Marcus, had been watching, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal themselves to (Y/N). And this was the moment they had been waiting for, a moment that would forever change the course of their lives.

In a blur of supernatural speed and strength, the Volturi kings subdued the attacker, rescuing (Y/N) from harm. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched them in a mix of shock and awe. These mysterious men, who had been a presence in the shadows, had come to her aid.

"We mean you no harm, (Y/N)," Aro said, his voice filled with a soothing reassurance. "We've been watching you, captivated by your dance and your spirit."

Caius added, "You are not alone. You have captured our hearts, and we are here to protect you."

But it was Marcus who approached her with a gentleness that touched her soul. He extended his hand to her, his eyes filled with an undeniable connection.

"We've been waiting for the right moment to reveal ourselves," Marcus murmured, his voice laced with sincerity. "You are our mate, (Y/N), and we are bound to you."

As (Y/N) looked into Marcus's eyes, she felt a deep sense of serendipity wash over her. The trauma of her past relationship began to fade, replaced by the newfound sense of belonging and love that these extraordinary men offered.

In that dark alleyway, under the watchful eyes of the Volturi kings, (Y/N) began to realize that her life had taken a remarkable and unexpected turn. She had found not only protection but also a love that transcended time and circumstance, a love that would forever bind her to the mysterious world of vampires and the enigmatic Volturi.

(Y/N) stood in that dimly lit alleyway, surrounded by the enigmatic Volturi kings, her heart racing not just from the recent attack but also from the whirlwind of emotions that had overtaken her. While the idea of vampires and otherworldly creatures was beyond the realm of conventional belief, she was remarkably open-minded, and the evidence before her eyes left little room for skepticism.

Her curiosity had always led her to embrace the unexplained, and the connection she felt with Aro, Caius, and Marcus was undeniable. Their presence had brought a newfound sense of security and belonging into her life, something she had been missing since her disastrous previous relationship.

With a mixture of courage and vulnerability, (Y/N) looked at the Volturi kings and spoke with unwavering determination, "I've always believed that there are things in this world beyond our understanding. And now, standing here with you, I'm willing to accept what I see."

Aro, the charismatic leader, smiled warmly. "Your open-mindedness is a gift, (Y/N), and we are grateful for it."

Caius, the enforcer, nodded in agreement. "You are not just our mate but a rare soul who accepts the extraordinary."

It was Marcus, the most reserved of the trio, who extended his hand to (Y/N) once more. "Come with us, (Y/N), and learn about the world beyond the ordinary. You are meant to be with us."

With those words, (Y/N) took Marcus's hand, sealing her fate and embarking on a new chapter of her life. She moved into the Volturi's grand ancestral home, a place steeped in centuries of history and secrets. The transition was surprisingly smooth, as she embraced her role as queen with grace and curiosity.

Weeks passed, and (Y/N) became an integral part of the Volturi family. Her genuine kindness and inquisitive nature endeared her to the vampires, and she found herself welcomed with open arms. She eagerly participated in their activities, even sitting on the Volturi kings' laps during their trials, providing a comforting presence.

The love that blossomed between (Y/N) and the Volturi kings was like a force of nature, strong and unbreakable. Despite the scars of her past, (Y/N) refused to let fear sabotage her chance at happiness. She had found not just love but also a sense of purpose and belonging among the immortal world of vampires.

In this enchanted world, where darkness and light coexisted, (Y/N) had found her place as queen, a role that allowed her to embrace her love of dance, music, and the extraordinary. As the Volturi's queen, she became a beacon of hope and fascination, a symbol of how love could transcend time and circumstance.

90 notes · View notes

unpopularwriter25 · 7 months ago

Text

A Serendipitous First

Summary: Inosuke, Zenitsu, and Tanjiro are immersed in their training when the reader approaches to speak with Tanjiro. Jealousy ignites within Inosuke, leading to an unexpected and heart-racing encounter that neither he nor the reader will ever forget.

Warnings: None.

The midday sun hung high, casting a golden glow over the lush training grounds. Tall, swaying trees encircled the clearing, their leaves whispering secrets in the warm breeze. Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke were engrossed in their rigorous training, each move precise and filled with intent. The rhythmic clash of swords and the occasional grunt of effort filled the air, underscoring the intensity of their practice.

Nearby, a small stream gurgled merrily, its cool waters offering a serene contrast to the warriors' exertions. The scent of pine and wildflowers mingled, creating a tranquil atmosphere despite the vigorous activity taking place. Birds chirped intermittently, their songs adding a layer of harmony to the rustic symphony.

You approached the clearing, your steps light yet purposeful. Spotting Tanjiro, you smiled and made your way over, eager to discuss a pressing matter. Inosuke, however, noticed your arrival out of the corner of his eye. His grip on his swords tightened, and a strange, unfamiliar feeling twisted in his chest as he watched you choose Tanjiro over him.

Irritation flared within him. Why would you rather talk to Tanjiro? Inosuke's fierce blue eyes narrowed behind his boar mask, the unfamiliar sensation gnawing at him. With an impulsive growl, he decided to confront you, his movements abrupt and full of barely restrained energy.

"Oi, y/n!" he barked, storming over in your direction. But in his haste, his foot caught on a protruding root, sending him sprawling forward with a surprised yelp.

Time seemed to slow as Inosuke stumbled, his momentum carrying him straight into you. Your eyes widened in shock, barely processing what was happening before his weight collided with yours. You both tumbled to the ground, a tangle of limbs and confusion.

And then, it happened.

His lips brushed against yours, the unexpected softness a stark contrast to the rough tumble. For a heartbeat, the world fell silent. The birds stopped singing, the stream's babble quieted, and even the wind seemed to hold its breath. Inosuke's eyes widened in surprise, mirroring your own as you both registered the sudden, intimate contact.

Your first kiss. His first kiss. Neither of you had ever experienced something like this before. Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you could feel Inosuke's breath against your skin, shallow and quick.

Inosuke's mind was a whirlwind of confusion and unfamiliar emotions. This wasn't part of any training he had known. His heart pounded wildly, almost louder than the clang of swords had been moments before. Slowly, he pulled back, his face flushed beneath his mask, which now felt suffocatingly hot.

"S-sorry!" he stammered, an unusual break in his typically brash demeanor. He scrambled to his feet, offering you a hand up, his grip uncharacteristically gentle.

Tanjiro and Zenitsu had paused their training, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes and barely contained amusement. Zenitsu's jaw hung open, while Tanjiro's lips curved into a knowing smile, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of surprise and understanding.

You accepted Inosuke's hand, your heart still racing from the unexpected encounter. As you stood, you met his gaze, the usual fierce intensity softened by an unspoken question.

"It's... okay," you managed to say, your voice a little breathless. "It was an accident."

Inosuke nodded, though he couldn't quite shake the feeling that this accident had changed something between you. The training ground, once filled with the sound of battle, now buzzed with a different energy, an unspoken connection that neither of you could fully grasp but both were eager to explore.

As the sun continued its arc across the sky, the day's training resumed. But for you and Inosuke, the memory of that serendipitous first kiss lingered, a spark of something new and unknown in the warm summer air.

#anime #fanfic #writing #demon slayer #inosuke hashibira #demon slayer inosuke #fandom #first post #shorts #short drabble #cute #fluff #inosuke x reader #demon slayer anime #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer headcanons #first kiss

38 notes · View notes

x-fantasy-is-my-reality-x · 1 year ago

Text

Full Masterlist

Updated: 10/21/24

💥 Attack on Titan:

Attack on Pranks

→Attack on Pranks: Chapter 1 (The First Task)

→Attack on Pranks: Chapter 2 (Keep Running)

→Attack on Pranks: Chapter 3 (How it All Started)

→Attack on Pranks: Chapter 4 (Showdown)

Attack on Titan Short Story Collection

→Attack on Titan Short Story Collection: Fireworks

→Attack on Titan Short Story Collection: Towels

💥 Kengan Ashura:

Muscle Heads: Ohma x Raian

→Chapter 1: Shut up, Raian

→Chapter 2: Off His Ass

→Chapter 3: Naughty

→Chapter 4: FishFace

->Chapter 5: Meat Gazer

💥 Dragon Ball:

A Serendipitous Future

Goku Black x Reader: Forbidden Fruit

→Chapter 1: The Flames of Destruction

→Chapter 2: The Game Begins

→Chapter 3: Blink of an Eye

→Chapter 4: Cat out of the Bag

→Chapter 5: The Room

→Chapter 6: Chained Freedom

→Chapter 7: The Calvary Arrives

→Chapter 8: The Curse of Immortality

→Chapter 9: Hate Me Not

→Chapter 10: Victory

→Chapter 11: Zamasu’s Revenge

→Chapter 12: Hidden Treasures

→Chapter 13: The Wolf

→Chapter 14: Infiltrator

→Chapter 15: An Unlikely Allegiance

→Chapter 16: The Forest

→Chapter 17: Red Lights

→Chapter 18: Reunion

→Chapter 19: Even Nightmares Dream

→Chapter 20: The Pact

→Chapter 21: The Ritual [SMUT]

→Chapter 22: Back Again

→Chapter 23: Return of the Past

💥 Baki:

Not Really Katsumi

💥 One Punch Man:

Mayhem

💥 Friday the 13th/Halloween:

Friday the 13th Oneshots: Michael x Jason

→Chapter 1: Handful

→Chapter 2: Halloween Headache

→Chapter 3: You Make Me Go Crazy (SMUT)

💥Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit:

The Elf and the Elk

Red of Rivendell

Mischief

→Mischief: Chapter 1

→Mischief: Chapter 2

→Mischief: Chapter 3

→Mischief: Chapter 4

→Mischief: Chapter 5

→Mischief: Chapter 6

→Mischief: Chapter 7

💥Tangled (2010):

Dirty: Stabbington Brothers/Reader [SMUT]

Works In Progress

If there's anything in particular that you want to see posted, just comment on this post or shoot me a DM, and I'll try to get that one out a bit faster! If you have any questions also feel free to let me know. Some of these were written a while ago and forgotten about but I hate leaving things unfinished.

💥 House of Wax/Halloween:

You Look Like Me (And I Don't Like It): Bo Sinclair x Michael Myers

💥 Friday the 13th/Halloween:

Sharp Love: Jason Voorhees x Michael Myers

Friday the 13th Oneshots: Michael x Jason-Chapter 3

💥 The Collector (Asa Emory):

On Your Own: Professor!Asa Emory x Reader

Never Kiss a Stranger At the Bar: Professor!Asa Emory x Reader

Wrong File: Professor!Asa Emory x Reader

The TA: Professor!Asa Emory x Reader

💥 Hannibal (NBC):

Symphony of Murder: Asa Emory & Hannibal Lecter

💥 Slasher Harem:

House of Horror: Brahms/Asa/Michael/Jason/Harry/Pyramid Head/Bo/Thomas/Ghostface/Jason x Reader

💥 Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit:

Gold and Brown: Lindir x Legolas

Elven Encounters

Taste of Revenge

The Three Hunters: How it Should Have Been

💥 Mo Dao Zu Shi:

No Choice But the Wrong One: Xue Yang x Reader

💥 Banana Fish:

Cold Blue: Frederick Arthur x Reader

💥 Baki:

To Love a Monster: Yujiro x Reader

Triple Doom: Implied Mouth Triplets x Jun Guevaru

💥 Attack on Titan:

Attack on Titan Short Story Collection-Body Swap

💥 Kengan Ashura:

The Shadow That Never Sleeps

Muscle Heads: Ohma x Raian-Chapter 5

Kengan Ashura Oneshots-That's Not a Swimsuit: Ohma Tokita x Reader

Strong, Stronger, and the Strongest: Ohma Tokita x Lihito x Kure Raian

💥 Dragon Ball:

Goku Black x Reader: Forbidden Fruit-Chapter 23

The Devil's Promise: Goku Black x Reader

💥 Record of Ragnarok:

Cherrypop: Buddha x Reader

💥 Toriko:

55 Days to Tame the Beast: Zebra x Reader

💥 Sherlock Holmes (BBC):

The Untold Tales of a Second

💥 Squid Game:

All I See is Pink: Pink Soldiers x Reader

💥 Harry Potter:

Pranking Severus Snape

Mercy for the Brave: Severus Snape x Reader

💥 Marvel-Loki:

Not So Cold: Loki Odinson x Reader

💥 How To Train Your Dragon 3:

DragonSlayer: Grimmel x Reader

Betrothed to a Killer: Grimmel x Reader

#masterlist #multifandom

51 notes · View notes

luciferism · 1 year ago

Text

Hi, stranger! I am a new writer, writing fanfiction to practice. Welcome to my writing blog 👋

My name: Maze (luciferism)

Age: 23

《 Read my fanfics on Archives of Our Own 》

OBEY ME!

GENSHIN IMPACT

TWISTED WONDERLAND

One shots, usually SMUT

Smuts are mostly "plot? what plot?" (pwp), hence the one shots

Not so keen about headcanons but maybe I'll do some

Short series or multi-chapters

Mostly modern AU and canon universe, or others

If I'm gonna write a "character x male reader", it's usually a top m!reader

I like writing character x AMAB/male readers, however, not exclusively

I don't dabble much on very weird or heavy subplots in my smuts

I'll probably write a few sfw fics (?)

I like writing in my own pace, so no asking for requests yet

I post 1 or 2 fics a week, either one shots or may a multiple chapter story

Characters will be slightly ooc, can't help it. I need the smut.

Tags are provided, you know what you are reading. I don't want to be held responsible if you "accidentally" read what you do not like.

LUCIFER

¤ Husband Series I: A Week is Too Long [MTop!Reader x Lucifer] | one shot, smut

¤ Husband Series II: Little Accidents [Mtop!Reader x Lucifer] | one shot, smut

¤ Husband Series III: Risqué Dinner [MTop!Reader x Lucifer] | one shot, smut

¤ Barhopping Aftermath [Lucifer x AFAB!Reader] | one shot, smut

¤ Midnight Dance [Lucifer x Stripper!AFAB!Reader] | one shot, smut

DIAVOLO

¤ Happy Birthday! [Diavolo x Lucifer] | one shot, smut

SOLOMON

¤ Lunch Time is Sneaky Time [Solomon x F!Reader] | one shot, smut

SIMEON

¤ Divine Desire [M!TopReader x Simeon] | one shot, smut

ZHONGLI

¤ Business Proposition [Zhongli x GN!Reader] | one shot, eventual smut

MALLEUS

¤ Symphony of Love and Desire [ Malleus x GN!Reader ] | one shot, eventual smut

• LEONA

Serendipitous? Engagement [ Leona x GN!Reader ] | one shut, eventual smut

#luciferism #obey me fanfic #fanfiction #masterlist #genshin impact fanfics #twisted wonderland fanfiction

37 notes · View notes

artistoxxx · 1 year ago

Text

Sundara's Whispers of Transformation

In the heart of bustling Mumbai, where the city's pulse reverberates through crowded streets and towering skyscrapers, Sundara, a determined and disciplined young woman, found solace in the Energize Fitness Center. The rhythmic beats of the metropolis served as a backdrop to her relentless pursuit of physical and mental well-being.Unbeknownst to Sundara, a mysterious man observed her from the shadows. His motivations, shrouded in secrecy, revolved around a desire to weave subtle threads of influence into the fabric of her life. Intrigued by her dedication, he saw in Sundara a canvas ready to be painted with the hues of transformation.Their initial meeting was serendipitous, a chance encounter amid the clinking of weights and the hum of treadmills. The mysterious man, his face obscured by an air of enigma, skillfully merged hypnotic suggestions with workout guidance. Engaging Sundara in seemingly innocuous conversations, he planted the seeds of influence that would soon bloom into a profound connection.The hypnotist's methods were a carefully crafted dance of words and gestures, a delicate interplay of suggestion and consent. His hypnotic inductions during their interactions were subtle, seamlessly integrated into the rhythm of Sundara's workout routine. Each whispered command, each subtle suggestion, took root in the fertile soil of her subconscious.As the days unfolded, Sundara's eyes, once vibrant brown, began to betray the transformation occurring within. Under the influence of the hypnotist's subtle artistry, they took on an otherworldly white glow whenever the trance took hold, a visual manifestation of the unseen forces at play.The nightly rituals became the cornerstone of Sundara's metamorphosis. In the dimly lit corners of her home, guided by the hypnotist's commands, she underwent a profound change. Her thoughts, once characterized by assertiveness, now flowed with a newfound submission, moulded by the intricate dance of influence.

Sundara, under the trance, became a different entity. Her personality, once marked by determination, now bore the imprint of the hypnotic whispers. Submissive, pliant, and perpetually in the thrall of the mysterious man's influence, she navigated her dual existence with a silent grace.The city of Mumbai, with its teeming millions, remained oblivious to the mystical change enveloping Sundara. She moved through crowded streets and bustling markets, her eyes betraying the secret only the hypnotist held. The name "Sundara" echoed with a haunting resonance, a testament to the whispered transformation that had become an integral part of her existence.

As Sundara continued her routines, the hypnotist's influence deepened, guiding her through the intricacies of a life sculpted by his commands. Her interactions became a symphony of hypnotic undertones, with each conversation weaving threads of control that bound her tighter to his will.The mysterious man, content in his hidden power, revelled in the transformation he had orchestrated. He steered Sundara's life, subtly influencing her decisions, and moulding her reality to align with his desires. The dual existence continued – the vibrant woman in the daylight, the submissive puppet under the cover of night.Sundara's interactions with the world became a delicate dance, a choreography of controlled responses and scripted movements. The hypnotic whispers resonated in her mind, guiding her steps, dictating her words, and shaping her destiny. The city of Mumbai, blissfully unaware, carried on its daily rhythm, unknowingly housing the silent convergence of two destinies.As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, Sundara's metamorphosis reached its zenith. The hypnotist, satisfied with his creation, chose a final command to etch her destiny permanently. On a moonlit night, in the solitude of her home, he whispered the words that would bind her in perpetual submission.

"Sundara, your existence is intertwined with my will. You are forever under my command, a vessel of whispered influence. Your eyes shall remain white, a testament to the silent power that guides you. Go forth, live your life, and remain my eternal creation."With those words, Sundara's fate was sealed. The hypnotic trance, once a subtle undercurrent, now became an indelible part of her being. The city of Mumbai, with its oblivious residents, continued to pulse with life, as Sundara moved through its streets, her eyes forever betraying the secret they held.In the quiet corners of her home, Sundara existed in a state of perpetual trance, a vessel forever under the influence of the mysterious hypnotist. Her name echoed through the corridors of her consciousness, a haunting reminder of the whispered transformation that had rewoven the fabric of her existence.

#mind corruption #hypnotist #hypnotized #brainwashing #hypnotized girl #surrender #mind control #mind conditioning #hypnotic #hypno sub #hypnofetish #hypnosis #mindless

34 notes · View notes

enhastolemyheart · 2 years ago

Text

𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 | PARK JAY

pairing. Jay x reader

genre. strangers to lovers

synopsis. if the love is real, you will always find each other again.

word count. 600+

warning(s). fluff, a lil angst, a happy ending, proofread but lmk if any mistakes

a/n. hey!! im finally back with a fic! my writers block got the best of me and I was able finally write something. I also wanted to write smth on Jay. this isn't my best work but it was enough to get rid off my block. I will try and write more as time goes. thank you so much for being patient. requests are open! enjoy reading!!

Chapter 1: The Meeting

You stood at the bustling café, your gaze fixed on the pages of your book. Lost in the world of words, savoring the tranquility it offered. Across the room, a young man named Jay entered with a confident stride. His eyes scanned the crowd until they met yours, and in that moment, their hearts skipped a beat. The anticipation to talk to each other only grew more as the time passed.

Chapter 2: Serendipitous Encounters

Days turned into weeks, and chance encounters transformed into planned meetings. You and Jay discovered a shared love for art, music, and adventure. You both spent hours strolling through art galleries, attending live performances, and exploring hidden gems of their city.

Your guys' conversations flowed effortlessly, as if you had known each other for a lifetime. Every word exchanged painted vivid images in their minds, connecting their souls in a tapestry of emotions.

Chapter 3: A Love Blossoms

Yours and Jay's love for each other only grew stronger with each passing day. Your hearts intertwined, and they reveled in the beauty of their connection. Together, they embarked on countless adventures, creating memories that would forever be etched in their hearts.

They danced under the moonlit sky, the soft music playing in the background like a symphony composed just for them. hands delicately placed on your waist while yours were around his shoulders, swaying side to side to the sweet melody.

They hiked to breathtaking viewpoints, their eyes capturing the splendor of nature as their souls soared high.

Chapter 4: Trials and Triumphs

But life is not always a smooth sail. Jay and you faced their fair share of challenges. They encountered storms that tested their love, yet their commitment to each other remained unyielding.

Through their hardships, they discovered the strength of their bond. They held each other through tearful nights, reassuring one another that brighter days lay ahead. Their love became a sanctuary, a refuge from the chaos of the world.

Chapter 5: The Distance

As fate would have it, circumstances forced you and Jay to be apart. Jobs in different cities, obligations pulling them in opposite directions. The distance was painful, their longing palpable.

But distance couldn't extinguish the flame that burned within your both hearts. They wrote letters, pouring their deepest thoughts onto paper, bridging the gap between them. Their words became their lifeline, keeping their love alive despite the miles that separated them.

Chapter 6: Reunion

After what felt like an eternity, the day of reunion arrived. Yours and Jay's hearts raced as they saw each other at the airport. In that moment, the world faded away, and they were the only two souls in existence.

They embraced fiercely, tears of joy streaming down their faces. The longing they had endured dissolved into a profound gratitude for the love they had fought for. Their reunion was a testament to the power of their love.

Chapter 7: Forevermore

Jay and you knew your love was meant to last. You embarked on a new chapter of their lives, building a future togethe, moved in together, intertwining their lives in a home filled with love and laughter.

Their love story became an inspiration to those around them, a reminder that true love endures. They grew old together, their hands still finding solace in each other's warmth. With every passing year, their love deepened, like a river flowing steadily and eternally.

Yours and Jay's love story continued to resonate through the ages. Their love was a testament to the power of connection, of two souls finding solace in one another. Their legacy lived on, whispered in the hearts of those who believed in the enduring power of love.

And as time spun its web, new lovers would walk hand in hand, inspired by the tale of Jay and Y/n, knowing that true love would.

a/n. OMG thank you so much for reading!! Hopefully it was good! lmk if you have any idea you'd like to share! requests are open and so is the taglist! and I'll see you in the next one!

perm taglist: @jak-ey , @snoowhore , @hsgwrld , @seungiesluv , @1-800shutthefuckup

#<enhastolemyheart3 #enhypen headcanons #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #jay x reader #enhypen jay #jay enhypen #park jay #park jeongseong #lee heeseung #jake sim #sunghoon

75 notes · View notes

star-wars-writing · 1 year ago

Text

Stellar Serendipity

Another story for Codywan bingo for @codywanbingo I hope you'll like it. @swfandomevents

The prompt for this story was Blind date, it's a bit different, but I still think it could be considered blind datish.

In the vast expanse of the cosmos, where stars whispered ancient secrets and galaxies danced in silent harmony, there existed a marvel of human ambition and architectural wonder: the Celestial Haven. This space station, a gleaming jewel set against the velvet backdrop of space, was a testament to the ingenuity and spirit of cooperation that thrived among the planets of the Galactic Alliance.

Orbiting a mesmerizing nebula, with its swirls of color painting a celestial canvas, the Celestial Haven was more than a mere outpost; it was a symbol of peace and prosperity, a meeting point for the diverse cultures that dotted the star-studded expanse of the universe. Its structure, a harmonious blend of elegance and functionality, featured domes and spires that mirrored the distant stars, while its interiors were adorned with the finest materials from countless worlds – luminescent stones from the caves of Glimmera, rare woods from the forests of Verdantia, and woven silks spun by the artisans of Serica.

On this particular galactic cycle, the Celestial Haven was abuzz with anticipation for an event of unparalleled significance – a grand gala to raise funds for the restoration of war-torn planets. This noble cause had drawn dignitaries, philanthropists, and heroes from across the galaxies, each contributing to a future where the scars of war could be healed and harmony restored. The gala was to feature an auction, an event not merely for the exchange of rare and valuable items but also an opportunity for the influential attendees to display their generosity and commitment to the galactic community.

In the heart of the station, the grand ballroom awaited its esteemed guests. Vast and opulent, with high ceilings that simulated the night sky of a thousand worlds, it was an arena of splendor. Holographic projectors cast soft, ambient light, creating an ethereal atmosphere that was both inviting and awe-inspiring. Tables adorned with exotic centerpieces and the finest culinary delights from across the stars were arranged with meticulous care, ensuring that the evening would be both a feast for the senses and a testament to the cause that had brought them all together.

At the center of the ballroom, a raised dais served as the focal point for the auction. Here, the most prized offerings would be presented, each carrying the promise of significant contributions to the reconstruction efforts. Among these, unbeknownst to one of the key figures of the night, was a lot that would serve as the catalyst for an unexpected and profound connection.

In this setting, where the wonders of the universe converged and the hopes of many rested, the stage was set for an evening that would be remembered not just for its grandeur and philanthropy, but for the serendipitous moments and unforeseen encounters that would unfold under the watchful eyes of a billion stars.

Under the ethereal glow of the Celestial Haven's grand ballroom, where the universe's elite gathered in a symphony of lights and whispers, the Stewjoni envoy navigated the gala with a demeanor as serene as the tranquil hills of his homeworld. Clad in robes that whispered of distant stars and deep oceans, he was a portrait of poise, his every gesture an echo of the calm that reigned in the lush landscapes of Stewjon.

As he conversed with diplomats and scholars, his keen eyes observed the room, taking in the myriad stories each guest carried. It was then that his gaze fell upon a figure he recognized, not from personal acquaintance but from the holo-news that often featured tales of valor and heroism from across the galaxies. This man, standing with the easy confidence of one who had commanded legions, was the celebrated Commander known as Cody. The Stewjoni envoy had heard of his exploits, tales of courage and strategic brilliance that had turned the tide of battles in the Galactic Armed Forces' favor.

There was something about the commander that intrigued the envoy from Stewjon. Perhaps it was the juxtaposition of the commander's battle-hardened exterior with the warmth he exuded, or perhaps it was the subtle hints of depth and introspection that seemed to flicker in his eyes – a suggestion that there was more to this man than medals and accolades. The envoy felt a pull of curiosity, a desire to understand the story behind those eyes that had seen so much.

As the night progressed, the Stewjoni envoy found himself increasingly drawn to the idea of meeting the commander. When whispers of the evening's charity auction began to ripple through the crowd, mentioning that a dinner with Commander Cody was to be auctioned to support the war-torn planets' rebuilding, a plan began to form in the envoy's mind. Here was an opportunity, not just to contribute to a noble cause but also to satiate his curiosity about the man who had become a legend in the annals of the Galactic Armed Forces.

This notion, initially a mere flicker of interest, grew into a resolve. The Stewjoni envoy, known for his diplomacy and wisdom, saw in this potential meeting a chance for a unique exchange of perspectives – a dialogue that could transcend the ordinary and venture into realms of understanding and camaraderie rarely explored in the usual circles of galactic diplomacy. The thought of bidding for the dinner became less about the act of winning and more about the promise of a conversation that could bridge worlds and experiences, a rare opportunity in the often-scripted dances of interstellar politics.

Thus, as the auction drew near, the envoy from Stewjon readied himself, not as a bidder in a charity event, but as a seeker of stories, eager to unravel the layers of a man known to many but understood by few. In the cosmic waltz of the gala, amidst the swirling nebulas and distant stars that adorned the Celestial Haven, a new chapter was waiting to be written, one that would weave the tales of a diplomat and a commander into a narrative spun from starlight and shared destinies.

As the evening unfurled its tapestry of starlit conversations and laughter, the Stewjoni envoy, accompanied by a close confidant, navigated the intricate social labyrinth of the gala. His friend, Quinlan, a man of sharp wit and insightful observations, provided a contrasting but complementary presence to the envoy's calm demeanor.

They moved through the room, a pair of celestial drifters weaving through constellations of diplomats, merchants, and scholars. The envoy, with a mind as vast as the cosmos, engaged in exchanges that were more than mere pleasantries. Each conversation was a subtle dance of intellect and empathy, revealing the layers beneath the glittering facades of the gala's attendees.

As they conversed, Quinlan, ever the astute observer, noted the way others gravitated towards his friend. It wasn't just the Stewjoni's diplomatic acumen that drew them in; it was the genuine interest and depth he brought to every interaction. In a universe where words were often currency, the envoy's conversations were a rare commodity – sincere, thoughtful, and enlightening.

Amidst a discussion on interstellar trade dynamics with a merchant from the Core Worlds, the envoy's attention subtly shifted. Across the room, the commander, unaware of the silent regard, engaged in his own sphere of influence. His laughter, unburdened and sincere, cut through the hum of the room, a testament to a spirit unchained from the weight of command, if only for a night.

Quinlan, noticing the envoy's diverted attention, leaned in. "He's quite the figure, isn't he?" he remarked, a playful nudge in his tone. "The commander, I mean. I've heard the stories, but seeing him here, he's... different than I expected."

The envoy nodded, his eyes reflecting a galaxy of thought. "Indeed," he replied, his voice a soft echo of distant stars. "There's a depth to him, layers that the tales of heroism don't reveal. It's intriguing."

As they continued their stroll, the envoy engaged with various attendees, each interaction a brushstroke in the canvas of his diplomatic artistry. He spoke of peace and progress, of art and culture, his words weaving a tapestry that encompassed the myriad aspects of galactic society. And in each conversation, whether it was with a junior diplomat in awe of his presence or a seasoned politician seeking his counsel, the envoy's essence shone through – a beacon of wisdom and integrity.

As the night waned and the moment of the auction drew near, Quinlan remarked, "You're considering bidding, aren't you? For the dinner with the commander?"

The envoy's response was a contemplative silence, a serene sea amidst the swirling gala. "It's an opportunity for a unique dialogue, Quinlan," he finally said. "A meeting of minds and experiences that could be quite enlightening."

Quinlan smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Just remember, my friend, the galaxy is full of surprises. This dinner might just be one of them."

****

The commander, immersed in the vibrant tapestry of the gala, found his attention invariably drawn to the enigmatic figure of the red-headed Stewjoni envoy. Among a sea of galactic diversity, there was something about the man that stood out - perhaps it was the way his blue eyes seemed to hold entire galaxies within them, or the serene confidence that emanated from his every gesture.

Rex, the commander's brother, a man of keen perception and unshakable loyalty, leaned in closer, his voice low but tinged with amusement. "You seem quite taken with our distinguished diplomat over there," he observed, his gaze flicking towards the envoy.

The commander, usually a fortress of composure, felt a rare flush of warmth at the comment. "He's an interesting figure," he admitted, his gaze lingering on the Stewjoni. "There's a depth to him, something... compelling."

Rex chuckled softly, "Well, the night is young, and the gala is full of opportunities. Who knows, you might get a chance to discover what lies beneath that diplomatic exterior."

The commander nodded, a thoughtful expression etching his features. The idea of a conversation with the envoy was unexpectedly appealing - a chance to step away from the usual military discourse and delve into a realm of thought and reflection he seldom explored.

As the evening progressed, the commander found himself inadvertently seeking glimpses of the Stewjoni amidst the crowd. There was an effortless grace about him, a tranquility that seemed almost out of place in the bustling gala. It was as if he carried a piece of his serene homeworld with him, a calm eye in the storm of galactic politics.

Meanwhile, the Stewjoni envoy, in his gentle orbit around the room, shared moments of connection and insight with various guests. His discussions were more than mere small talk; they were gateways into understanding, bridges built between worlds and cultures. Yet, even as he conversed, his awareness was acutely tuned to the commander's presence in the room, an unspoken acknowledgment of the silent thread that seemed to connect them across the distance.

As the time for the auction approached, a ripple of excitement coursed through the guests. The commander, usually indifferent to such events, felt an unusual sense of anticipation. Glancing once more at the Stewjoni, he wondered, not for the first time that evening, what a conversation with him would reveal.

***

As the gala transitioned into its next phase, the grandeur of the Celestial Haven's ballroom was elevated by the anticipation of the upcoming auction. The guests, having indulged in a sumptuous dinner that was a melange of interstellar cuisines, now directed their attention to the dais. The auction, a centerpiece of the evening's proceedings, promised both excitement and charitable generosity.

The commander, still in a mix of contemplation and inadvertent observation of the Stewjoni envoy, was abruptly jolted from his thoughts by the mention of the next item for auction. His brother, Rex, wearing a mischievous grin that was all too familiar, leaned in and whispered, "You can thank me later for this."

Before the commander could react, the auctioneer's voice boomed across the room, announcing the next lot: "A dinner with the renowned Commander Cody, hero of the Galactic Armed Forces!" The commander's eyes widened in disbelief, and he turned to his brother, his expression a blend of surprise and mild irritation.

"Rex, what have you done?" he hissed, his usual composure slipping momentarily.

Rex chuckled, unfazed by the commander's reaction. "Consider it a contribution to the cause, brother. Besides, it's just dinner. Who knows, you might enjoy it."

The commander shook his head, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth despite his annoyance. He resigned himself to his fate, his gaze inadvertently seeking the Stewjoni envoy across the room. What would he think of this spectacle?

Meanwhile, the envoy, having enjoyed the diverse flavors of the gala's dinner, found his attention captured by the auction. When the dinner with Commander Cody was announced, a ripple of intrigue passed through him. The commander, a subject of his earlier musings, was now the centerpiece of this charitable endeavor. He felt a tug of curiosity, an unspoken desire to know more about the man behind the legend.

The bidding began, a playful yet earnest war of numbers. The envoy, with a calm resolve, joined the fray. Each bid he made was thoughtful, a reflection of his genuine interest in meeting the commander, not just as a famed military figure, but as a person with his own tales and perspectives.

The guests watched in fascination as the numbers climbed, the atmosphere charged with a blend of excitement and curiosity. The commander, meanwhile, stood somewhat bemused, a reluctant participant turned focal point in a bidding battle he never expected to be part of.

As the bids reached their zenith, the Stewjoni envoy cast a final bid, a decisive number that echoed through the ballroom. A hush fell over the crowd as the auctioneer called once, twice, and then declared, "Sold to the distinguished envoy from Stewjon!"

The commander, now committed to a dinner with the red-haired diplomat, felt an unexpected surge of anticipation. The prospect of an evening in the company of the Stewjoni, a man who had intrigued him from across the room, suddenly seemed less daunting and more like an opportunity for a unique exchange.

Across the room, the envoy allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. The auction had been a means to an end - a chance to delve into the depths of a man who had captured his interest in a way few had. As the crowd applauded and the auction moved on to its next lot, both men looked forward to the dinner that would bring them together, each contemplating the possibilities that lay in the shared meal under the stars.

The Stewjoni envoy, his heart echoing the pulsating rhythm of the gala, watched the final moments of the auction with a sense of fulfillment mingled with a faint undercurrent of apprehension. His final bid, assertive yet unassuming, had sealed the fate of the evening, propelling him towards a future encounter that seemed to promise more than just a charitable dinner.

As the auctioneer's voice declared his victory, a hush of satisfaction washed over him, mingling with the soft clapping of the guests. He stood there, a solitary figure amidst the sea of faces, his gaze momentarily lost in the cosmic tapestry above. The weight of the moment was not lost on him – he had not just secured a dinner with the commander, but also stepped into the realm of the unknown, a narrative yet to unfold.

Quinlan, standing beside him, offered a gentle nudge, pulling him back from his reverie. "Well played," he said, his voice a mix of admiration and curiosity. "I sense there's more to this than meets the eye."

The envoy turned to his friend, the corners of his mouth lifting in a soft smile. "Perhaps," he replied, his voice a quiet reflection of his thoughts. "There's a depth to Commander Cody that intrigues me. This dinner... it's a chance to explore that, to understand the man beyond the legend."

As the crowd dispersed, moving on to the next item, the envoy felt a gaze upon him. Glancing across the room, his eyes met those of the commander. In that brief exchange, a silent conversation seemed to pass between them – an acknowledgment of the journey they were about to embark upon.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of conversations and laughter, but the envoy's thoughts remained anchored to the upcoming dinner. He found himself anticipating the exchange of stories and perspectives, the unveiling of the layers that made up the commander's persona.

As the gala drew to a close, the envoy excused himself from the dwindling clusters of guests, his mind adrift in a sea of possibilities. The night sky above Celestial Haven, a canvas of distant suns and swirling galaxies, seemed to mirror the whirlwind of thoughts that filled his mind.

Walking through the quiet corridors of the station, the envoy pondered the commander's reaction to the auction. Was there a hint of surprise in his eyes? A flicker of curiosity? The thought brought a subtle warmth to the envoy's heart, a sense of connection to someone who, until a few hours ago, had been just another face in the galaxy.

In the solitude of his quarters, the Stewjoni envoy gazed out at the vast expanse of space, a witness to the eternal dance of stars and planets. Tonight, he mused, the universe had spun a new thread in the tapestry of his life – one that was intertwined with that of Commander Cody. And as the stars twinkled in silent harmony, he found himself eagerly awaiting the unfolding of this new chapter, under the watchful eyes of the cosmos.

***

The following evening, under the soft glow of Celestial Haven’s artificial stars, the grand space station's renowned restaurant, Nebula's Embrace, prepared to host a unique dinner. The establishment, known for its exquisite cuisine and breathtaking views of the cosmos, was a symphony of elegance and tranquility, a fitting backdrop for the anticipated meeting between the Stewjoni envoy and Commander Cody.

As the envoy made his way to the restaurant, his mind was a calm sea with undercurrents of anticipation. The quiet hum of the station seemed to resonate with his thoughts, each step bringing him closer to the enigmatic figure who had occupied his musings since the auction. He entered Nebula's Embrace, the soft lighting and gentle music wrapping around him like a warm, cosmic breeze.

Commander Cody, already seated at a private table with a panoramic view of the twinkling nebula outside, felt a subtle shift in the air as the envoy approached. Clad in a less formal, yet equally dignified attire than the night before, the Stewjoni's presence brought a sense of serene confidence to the room.

Their eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, the vastness of space seemed to converge into the shared space between them. The commander rose, a gesture of respect mingling with a slight unease that was uncharacteristic of his usually composed demeanor.

"Envoy," he greeted, his voice a grounded echo in the high-ceilinged room.

"Commander Cody," the envoy replied, extending his hand. The handshake was firm, a physical manifestation of their mutual respect.

As they took their seats, the initial exchange of pleasantries was a dance of diplomacy and politeness, each man acutely aware of the other's reputation and stature. The waiter's arrival to take their order provided a brief respite from the burgeoning intensity of their conversation.

The commander, typically at ease in the throes of battle or the camaraderie of his troops, found himself navigating unfamiliar territory. "I must admit," he began, his words tinged with a hint of wry humor, "this isn't exactly my usual field of operation."

The envoy's lips curved into a knowing smile. "I find that the most interesting conversations often happen outside our comfort zones," he replied, his voice smooth like the flow of a gentle river.

As they delved into their meal, the initial awkwardness gradually gave way to a more relaxed exchange. The conversation ebbed and flowed, touching upon topics of galactic politics, the beauty of unexplored planets, and the intricacies of interstellar diplomacy.

The commander, intrigued by the envoy's perspectives, found himself sharing anecdotes from his own experiences – moments of triumph, reflections on leadership, and the quieter, more introspective thoughts that rarely saw the light of day.

The envoy listened, his eyes reflecting a deep understanding and an empathy that transcended words. He shared his own journey, the stories of Stewjon, and the delicate art of balancing personal beliefs with the demands of diplomacy.

As the evening progressed, the barrier of titles and roles seemed to dissolve, replaced by a genuine connection between two individuals with rich, yet vastly different, tapestries of life. Laughter and thoughtful contemplation filled the gaps, weaving a bond that was both unexpected and profound.

Outside, the nebula continued its silent waltz across the cosmos, a backdrop to the unfolding story within Nebula's Embrace. The dinner, initially an obligation for a charitable cause, had transformed into a meeting of minds and souls, a testament to the unpredictable nature of the universe.

In the quiet corners of the restaurant, away from the prying eyes of the galaxy, the Stewjoni envoy and Commander Cody discovered a shared curiosity and respect, the seeds of a friendship that promised to grow in the fertile ground of understanding and mutual admiration. As they parted ways for the night, there was a sense of anticipation for what the future might hold, a starlit path unwinding before them in the grand expanse of space.

As the Stewjoni envoy, Obi-Wan, and Commander Cody settled into the serene ambiance of Nebula's Embrace, their conversation began to weave through the layers of their initial acquaintance.

"Commander, I must admit, this is a departure from the usual diplomatic dinners I'm accustomed to," Obi-Wan said, initiating their dialogue with a tone of gentle curiosity.

Cody, with a lightness in his demeanor, responded, "I can see that, Obi-Wan. And for me, this is miles away from the strategy rooms and battlefields. But it's a welcome change."

A soft chuckle escaped Obi-Wan. "Perhaps tonight is an opportunity for us both to step outside our comfort zones. Tell me, Cody, when you're not on the battlefield, what occupies your thoughts?"

Pausing to reflect, Cody replied, "Peace, mostly. On the field, it feels like a distant dream. But evenings like this... they make it seem within reach."

Obi-Wan nodded thoughtfully. "Peace is indeed a complex goal. It's an intricate balance of many factors, some known and many hidden."

"That's true," Cody agreed. "Your life must be quite the balancing act too, Obi-Wan. Diplomacy is an art in itself."

"It is a journey of continuous learning," Obi-Wan mused. "The universe is a mosaic of perspectives. Harmonizing them is both challenging and rewarding."

Their conversation meandered, touching upon personal philosophies, experiences, and even humorous anecdotes. Cody shared a story from his early military days, drawing a hearty laugh from Obi-Wan.

"And what about you, Obi-Wan?" Cody asked, a smile playing on his lips. "Any memorable moments in the world of diplomacy?"

"With pleasure," Obi-Wan replied, a spark of mischief in his eyes. "There was an incident on Tiberia that involved some delicate negotiations and rather... spirited local fauna."

The evening progressed with an ease and depth that surprised them both. The formality of their initial meeting dissolved into a genuine and engaging exchange.

Leaning back, Cody looked at Obi-Wan and remarked, "I didn't expect this evening to be anything more than a formal obligation. But talking with you, Obi-Wan, has been a real pleasure."

"I feel the same, Cody," Obi-Wan replied, his expression reflecting the genuine connection they had forged. "This evening has been unexpectedly enlightening."

As they concluded their dinner, the shared experience of the evening hung between them, rich with the promise of future conversations. "I hope this isn't our last discussion, Cody," Obi-Wan said, extending his hand.

Cody grasped it firmly, warmth evident in his grip. "I'd like that, Obi-Wan. There's a lot more we could talk about."

As Obi-Wan and Cody stood to leave, the restaurant's soft lighting casting long, gentle shadows across the floor, there was a shared reluctance to end what had been an unexpectedly fulfilling evening. The nebula outside the window continued its silent, majestic dance, mirroring the swirling thoughts and emotions that filled the space between them.

Obi-Wan, walking alongside Cody towards the exit, was lost in a sea of contemplation. He had attended countless dinners and met numerous individuals throughout his diplomatic career, but none had struck a chord within him quite like this. 'There's a depth to Cody that's both intriguing and refreshing,' he thought. 'And the ease of our conversation... it's not something I encounter often.'

Cody, similarly, found himself reflecting on the evening with a sense of newfound discovery. The straightforward, battle-hardened commander was unaccustomed to the subtleties of emotional introspection, but something about Obi-Wan had ignited a spark of introspection. 'He's not just a skilled diplomat; there's a genuine warmth to him,' he mused. 'And the way we connected... it's rare to find someone you can just talk to, really talk to.'

As they reached the entrance of the restaurant, a brief pause in their steps marked an unspoken acknowledgment of the connection they had formed. Obi-Wan turned to Cody, his blue eyes reflecting the starlight. "I must say, Cody, this evening was more than I expected. It's been a pleasure."

Cody met his gaze, a sincere smile forming on his lips. "I couldn't agree more, Obi-Wan. It's been... eye-opening, to say the least."

In the quiet of the station's corridor, a moment of silence hung between them, charged with the unspoken recognition of a mutual attraction. Both men, each typically reserved in expressing personal sentiments, found themselves at the edge of a revelation.

Obi-Wan, taking a deep breath, allowed himself a moment of vulnerability. "Cody, I hope you don't mind my saying, but I find myself quite... drawn to you. It's not often that I meet someone who I can connect with on such a level."

Cody's expression softened, a hint of surprise mingling with a sense of understanding. "Obi-Wan, I feel the same. Tonight was more than just a pleasant dinner. There's something about you... it's compelling."

In the quiet corridor, the admission hung in the air, a testament to the rare connection they had discovered. They stood there for a moment, each processing the significance of their exchange, the possibilities that lay ahead.

As they parted ways, there was a shared look of anticipation, a silent promise of future encounters. Obi-Wan walked back to his quarters, his thoughts a blend of excitement and introspection. 'Could this be the start of something more?' he wondered, the question lingering in his mind like a distant star waiting to be explored.

Cody, heading in the opposite direction, felt a similar stirring of possibilities. The commander, so used to certainty and decisiveness, found himself embracing the uncertainty of what lay ahead with Obi-Wan. 'There's potential here,' he thought, a sense of hopeful anticipation lighting his path.

In their separate quarters, as they gazed out at the vast expanse of space, both men found themselves contemplating the same starlit horizon, each pondering the newfound connection that had blossomed in the celestial embrace of the galaxy.

The morning after their dinner, the space station Celestial Haven awoke to the hum of activity, its corridors alive with the bustle of departing guests and the rhythmic pulse of machinery. The nebula outside cast a soft, diffused light through the windows, painting the station in hues of dawn.

Obi-Wan, having spent a restless night mulling over the possibilities that the evening with Cody had unveiled, prepared to leave with a mind full of thoughts and a heart subtly alight with anticipation. As he packed his belongings, his thoughts kept drifting back to their conversation, to the genuine connection they had forged. 'There's something there worth exploring,' he thought, a rare sense of excitement bubbling within him.

Meanwhile, Cody, in his own quarters, was similarly reflective. The commander, usually so sure-footed and decisive, found himself in a rare state of contemplation. The previous evening had opened a door to something new, something uncharted yet undeniably intriguing. 'Obi-Wan is different,' he mused, a sense of curiosity and hope weaving through his thoughts. 'This could be the start of something meaningful.'

Their paths crossed unexpectedly in one of the station's grand corridors, a serendipitous encounter that seemed almost fated. Obi-Wan, carrying his travel bag, stopped in his tracks as he saw Cody approaching from the opposite direction.

"Commander, good morning," he greeted, his voice carrying a warmth that had been absent before their dinner.

Cody, seeing Obi-Wan, felt a smile naturally form on his lips. "Obi-Wan, morning. Heading out?"

"Yes, my duties call me back," Obi-Wan replied. "But I must say, I'm glad we ran into each other."

Cody nodded, a sense of agreement evident in his gaze. "I was thinking the same. About last night, I..." He paused, searching for the right words. "I'd like to stay in touch, if that's alright with you."

Obi-Wan's eyes lit up with a quiet joy. "I'd like that very much, Cody. There's a lot more we could talk about."

They exchanged a look, an unspoken understanding passing between them. Cody reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, sleek device. "Here's my contact. I'm not always easy to reach, but I'll make sure to respond."

Obi-Wan took the offered device, keying in his own information. "And here's mine. I travel quite a bit, but I'll make sure we find time to continue our conversation."

As they exchanged their contact details, there was a sense of promise in the air, a tacit agreement that this was not the end but the beginning of something new and exciting.

With a final exchange of understanding smiles, they parted ways, each heading towards their respective ships. As Obi-Wan walked towards his vessel, he felt a sense of lightness, a feeling of having stumbled upon a rare and precious find in the vastness of the galaxy.

Cody, making his way to his own ship, felt a similar sentiment. The commander, a man who had always found solace in the certainty of his military life, found himself embracing the uncertainty of what lay ahead with Obi-Wan, a journey of discovery that promised to be as vast and profound as the universe itself.

In their separate journeys across the stars, both men carried with them the memory of their encounter and the anticipation of future conversations. The universe, in its infinite expanse, had brought them together, two souls adrift in the cosmic dance, now connected by a shared orbit of possibility and hope.

#codywanbingo #codywan #obi wan kenobi x commander cody #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #captain rex #quinlan vos #auction #star wars fanfiction #obi wan fanfiction #commander cody fanfiction

22 notes · View notes