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unconventional-lawnchair · 2 months ago

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okay, because you broke my heart with everything is blue, I want a barty x potter!reader where it's the mauraders seeing how barty and the reader love/take care of each other. I need to be healed, I might die

They'll Be Alright

Barty Crouch Jr. x Potter!Fem!Reader

AN: I've taken out all the stops to mend your heart

WC: ~5k

Summary: James Potter learns to like tolerate his sisters taste in men.

Warnings: Grumpy James, Snogging, cursing, tooth rotting fluff, self indulgent, this is literally the cheesiest things I could come up with

“I can't do this much longer, I'm going mad.” James hissed as he sat on the grass, watching from across the courtyard as you stood outside the Quidditch pitch with a bit of a pacing form. You were sitting with your big brother and his friends just moments ago, but RavenClaw was out for practice and you just couldn't wait for your precious boy to leave the stands.

“I think it's cute.” Lily sang sweetly. “She's as obsessed with him as he is with her. Only a Potter could match a Crouch’s insanity.”

James groaned, dragging his hands down his face dramatically as Sirius burst out laughing, collapsing onto the grass beside him. “It’s not cute, Lily,” James hissed, throwing a wild gesture toward you. “It’s deranged. She’s my little sister, for Merlin’s sake! And she’s practically glued to the sidelines for him. Him! Of all people.”

“She’s not glued, mate. Look- she’s pacing,” Sirius pointed out helpfully, grinning as he threw a snitch up into the air and caught it lazily. “And, to be fair, Barty’s just as bad. Didn’t he travel all the way from Hogwarts to the Potter Manor once just to say, what was it? Right!” He sat up sharply and threw in some jazz hands. “Hi, to her over winter break?”

James groaned louder, flopping onto his back in the grass. “Don’t remind me. He’s the one who’s mad, and now she’s gone mad too. My family’s turning into a bloody soap opera.”

“It’s not madness,” Lily argued, her voice soft with a knowing smile as she plucked a daisy from the grass. “It’s love, James. Messy, consuming love. And if you can’t see it, then you’ve forgotten what it was like when you were chasing after me.”

“Oh, don’t start,” James grumbled, sitting up to glare at her, though his face was tinged with a hint of pink. “That’s completely different.”

“Is it?” Lily asked, raising a brow as she tucked the daisy behind her ear. “Because I distinctly remember you doing some insane things for me- like charming the entire Gryffindor common room to play my favorite song every time I walked in.”

Sirius let out a loud bark of laughter, nearly choking on his snitch when he forgot to catch it. “Oh, that was brilliant! What was it again? Some Muggle tune about sunshine?”

“‘Here Comes the Sun,’” Lily said smugly, her smile widening as James grumbled under his breath. “And I’ll remind you, Potter, that it worked.”

“That’s different!” James protested again, jabbing a finger in your direction. “I wasn’t a bloody Crouch!”

Remus, who had been quietly reading nearby, finally looked up from his book with a raised brow. “And what, exactly, is wrong with being a Crouch?” He asked calmly, though his tone carried a faint edge of amusement.

James floundered for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “You know what I mean! He’s- he’s- he’s bloody Barty! He’s reckless, obsessive, and- and-”

“And utterly devoted to her,” Lily interrupted firmly, her eyes softening as she looked toward you across the courtyard. “He’d send us back to the stone age if she complained it was too busy, James. And she’d do the same for him. That’s not something you get to stand in the way of.”

James sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he ran a hand through his messy hair. “I just want her to be happy.” He muttered. “And safe.”

“She is happy,” Lily said gently, resting a hand on his arm. “And as for safe- well, that’s why she’s got you, isn’t it? To make sure nothing gets in the way of her happiness. I'm also quite sure if anyone is to defend her like you have all these years.. it would be him.”

James let out a long, slow breath, watching as you finally stopped pacing, your face lighting up as Barty appeared at the top of the Quidditch stands. Even from across the courtyard, the way your shoulders relaxed and your smile softened was undeniable.

“She looks so bloody happy,” James mumbled, almost to himself.

“She is,” Lily said softly. “Just like you were when you finally got me.”

James turned to her, his face scrunching up as though he’d tasted something sour. “Don’t make me feel good about this, Evans.”

Lily just laughed, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Sorry, love. It’s my job.”

Remus chuckled. “Just watch mate.”

~~~

“My dazzling girl!” Barty called down from the steps as he hurried down. You couldn't help but feel a humiliating bubbling of excitement in your chest. Normally, you wouldn't be so shameless and public with your affections, but since dating the brazen Bartemius, you had forgotten what it meant to hold private affections.

“My brilliant boy.” You cooed back and he hurried across the yard to meet you. “How was it?”

“Dreadful. Humiliating. Humbling.” He rambled and stepped closer to you, taking your hand and kissing it, before slowly leading the kiss up your arm to your neck. You laughed and attempted to free yourself, only for him to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you in, flush against him. “You simply must make me feel better.”

“It was only practice!” You laughed and cupped his cheeks in your hands, stilling his unconventional attack before it could reach your face. He gave you that signature woman eating smile with dimples that pressed so far into his cheeks you could about die. “It couldn't have been that bad.”

“It was, you see.” He started and gave you a playfully firm dip before he spun you around to scoop you back up to a proper stand. “There was this dazzling girl-”

“You've used dazzling for today, Barty.” You teased and he gave you a wolfish grin.

“This beautiful, magnificent, breathtaking, awe inspiring-”

“Barty!” You laughed and he leaned in with a flurry of kisses to your cheek, effectively freeing himself from your hands.

“Irresistible, bewitching, stunning-”

“Barty-”

“Absolutely exquisite witch who promised to watch my every game, and yet, not this one.” He moped and you shook your head.

“That was practice, my love.” You muttered and he gasped.

“And thus it does not deserve your full undivided attention?”

You couldn’t hold back the giggle that escaped your lips, your hands playfully swatting at his chest as you shook your head. “You’re insufferable, Bartemius Crouch.”

“And yet, you’re still here,” Barty countered, his grin widening into something wickedly charming as he tugged you closer. “Which makes you either as mad as me or utterly bewitched. Shall we flip a coin to decide?”

“Bewitched, obviously,” You teased, raising an eyebrow as you leaned in closer. “But don’t let it go to your head, Mr. Crouch.”

“Too late.” He replied with a laugh, his lips brushing your temple before trailing down to your cheek. “My head’s been full of you for years, my star. You’ve left no room for anything else. I think it's only fair I consume your every thought from now on.”

“Sweet words don’t excuse your theatrics.” You teased, your hands gently slipping to his shoulders as you pretended to push him away, though neither of you truly let go. “You’re going to give James a heart attack if you keep this up.”

Barty’s grin turned mischievous, and he tilted his head to glance toward the courtyard where your brother and his friends were undoubtedly watching. “Good,” He said with mock seriousness, his tone laced with humor. “If I can survive Quidditch practice, he can survive the sight of me adoring his sister.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep the smile off your face as you sighed dramatically. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re perfect,” He murmured, his hands sliding down to rest on your waist. “So I think that makes us even.”

“Even?” You repeated with a laugh, shaking your head as you leaned your forehead against his. “I think it makes you a menace.”

“I’ll take it,” Barty replied, his voice softer now, his green eyes locked onto yours with a sincerity that made your heart skip. “As long as it means I get to keep you.”

For a moment, the playful banter between you faded, replaced by the weight of his words and the warmth of his presence. You knew the world saw Barty as reckless, obsessive, even dangerous. But in moments like this, when he looked at you like you were the only thing grounding him, it was hard not to feel the same pull that had always drawn you to him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You said softly, your hands brushing down his arms before entwining your fingers with his. “Just… promise me you’ll try not to antagonize James too much. He’s already halfway to pulling his hair out.”

Barty smirked, his dimple deepening in that way that always made your heart flutter. “No promises,” He teased, though the glint in his eye told you he’d try- for you, if nothing else.

“Bartemius Crouch,” You huffed, feigning sternness as you tugged his hand. “I mean it.”

“And I mean it when I say you’re irresistible,” He countered, spinning you again for good measure before pulling you back into his arms. “Now, my alluring, charming, pretty girl- are you ready to make James’s day a little more unbearable?”

You let out a laugh, the sound bright and lighthearted, as he laced your fingers together and led you back toward the courtyard. You could already see the exasperation on James’s face from across the field, but Merlin did you hear it. Him and Lily.

“I wasn't THAT bad!”

“Oh yes you were!”

~~~

It was a quiet afternoon in the Gryffindor common room when James finally let out a dramatic groan, throwing his head back against the couch. “I can’t take it anymore!” He exclaimed, startling Lily, who had been peacefully reading beside him.

“What now?” She asked, though the amused quirk of her lips showed she already knew the answer.

“It’s them,” James hissed, pointing toward the window where you and Barty were clearly visible in the courtyard below. You were both sitting on the edge of the fountain, laughing at something Barty had said as he carefully wrapped a scarf around your neck, adjusting it as though it were a delicate treasure. “They’re insufferable.”

“They’re adorable,” Lily corrected, leaning over to peek out the window. She sighed softly, her expression turning fond as she watched Barty tuck your hair behind your ear and press a quick kiss to your temple. “Look at him. He absolutely dotes on her.”

“Exactly!” James groaned again. “Dotes! It’s unnatural. He’s supposed to be a Crouch-brooding and conniving, not… not whatever that is.”

“Love,” Remus supplied calmly, not even looking up from his book.

“Obsessive devotion,” Sirius added with a smirk, throwing a piece of popcorn into his mouth as he sprawled on the armchair.

“Same thing,” Lily said with a shrug. “And besides, James, weren’t you the same way with me? You practically worshipped the ground I walked on.”

“Still do,” Sirius muttered, earning a glare from James and a stifled laugh from Lily.

“That’s different,” James argued, his voice petulant. “I wasn’t… that. Look at him! He’s practically wrapped around her finger.”

“And she’s wrapped around his,” Lily pointed out, motioning toward the window again. Sure enough, Barty had pulled you to your feet and was holding your hand as he led you toward the castle steps, pausing every few moments to make you laugh with his animated gestures.

“He carries her books half the time,” Sirius added. “And she carries his cloak when he forgets it.”

“She fixes his collar when it's crooked,” Remus chimed in. “And he charms her quills when they snap.”

James groaned louder, dragging his hands down his face. “You’re not helping.”

“Prongs,” Sirius said with a chuckle, sitting up and clapping him on the shoulder. “You’ve got to admit, they’re good together. Annoyingly good, yes, but still.”

“Annoying is an understatement,” James grumbled, but his protests faltered as the portrait hole swung open and you entered the room, Barty trailing behind you with an armful of books and an easy grin on his face.

You turned to him with an exasperated laugh. “You didn’t have to carry all of them, you know. I can manage.”

“Nonsense,” Barty replied smoothly, setting the books down on a nearby table before tugging at his crooked collar. “If I can’t carry a few books for my treasure, what kind of wizard am I?”

“A dramatic one,” You teased, stepping closer to him to fix his collar with practiced ease. “There. All better.”

“And this is why I adore you,” He said, grinning as he caught your hand and brought it to his lips for a quick kiss.

James let out a strangled noise from the couch, causing you to turn with a startled look. “Everything alright, Jamie?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Perfectly fine,” he said through gritted teeth, glaring at Barty, who had the audacity to wink at him.

Lily leaned over to whisper in James’s ear, her voice low but teasing. “Admit it, James. You’re just mad he treats her as well as you treat me.”

James’s face turned scarlet, and Sirius howled with laughter, nearly toppling out of his chair. “Got you there, mate!”

~~~

The clatter of hurried footsteps echoed down the stone corridor as you stopped in your tracks, turning just in time to see Barty sprinting toward you with an energy that bordered on reckless. His tie was slightly askew, his school robes flaring behind him as he called out, his voice full of dramatic flair, “Treasure! You simply must hear this- you’ll have no choice but to reward me with a kiss once you hear of my heroics.”

You furrowed your brow but couldn’t suppress the amused smile tugging at your lips. He always had a way of making everything sound like the most exciting tale in the world. As he skidded to a halt in front of you, panting slightly but grinning ear to ear, you took a moment to properly look at him.

For once, Barty had made an effort with his appearance. His robes, usually a little wrinkled or hanging off his shoulders in that endearingly careless way, were perfectly straightened. His tie was knotted neatly (if a little loose), and his hair was slicked back in a way that made your stomach twist, the gleaming coil of one rebellious strand falling charmingly over his forehead. He was maddening, and he knew it.

“Oh?” You replied, your voice playful as you arched a brow.

Barty straightened, smoothing the lapels of his robe with an exaggerated air of importance. “Correct me if I’m wrong- I hardly ever am- but you look like you might just kiss me unprompted.”

Your cheeks flamed at his words, the boldness of his statement making your heart skip. “Crouch!” You hissed, swatting lightly at his chest in mock indignation.

He caught your hand easily, holding it against his chest with a dramatic sigh. “See? Even your instincts betray you. Your heart is telling you to reward me already.”

“And what exactly did you do to earn this so-called reward?” You asked, your tone laced with amusement.

He tilted his head, his dimpled grin widening as he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a great secret. “I managed to survive an entire Transfiguration class without turning our professor’s patience into dust. Surely that deserves a small token of appreciation.”

You laughed despite yourself, shaking your head at his antics. “That’s your big heroic tale? Restraint in a single class?”

“Not just any class,” He countered, pulling you closer with the hand still held captive against his chest. “A full fifty minutes of maintaining decorum. You, of all people, should know what a trial that is for me.”

“Decorum, huh?” You teased, your lips twitching as you fixed his slightly frazzled lapel. “Then why are you so out of breath, running down the halls like a maniac?”

“Because the faster I reached you, the sooner I’d get my reward.” He grinned, tilting his head closer to yours. “Now, treasure, let’s not delay-”

“Barty!” You cut him off with a laugh, stepping back to put some space between you. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are, utterly smitten,” He said cheekily, but there was a softness in his eyes that made your chest ache. He reached out, brushing an errant strand of hair from your face, and you felt your heart skip again.

Before you could respond, a voice broke through the moment, sharp and incredulous. “You two are going to make me lose my mind.”

You both turned to see James standing a few feet away, arms crossed and a look of pure exasperation on his face. Sirius was behind him, grinning like a Cheshire cat, and Remus stood a little further back, his book tucked under one arm, an amused glint in his eye.

“Honestly, mate,” James continued, throwing his hands up. “Must you be this dramatic? She’s my sister, not the bloody queen.”

“And yet,” Barty said smoothly, not missing a beat as he turned to James with a smirk, “she deserves nothing less than a royal treatment.”

James groaned, dragging his hands down his face as Sirius burst out laughing, clapping him on the back. “He’s got a point, Prongs.”

You shook your head, trying to suppress your own laughter, but Barty caught your chin with gentle fingers, turning your gaze back to him. “Pay no mind to the peanut gallery,” He said softly, his tone dropping to something more intimate. “I’m only interested in you, treasure.”

Your heart swelled, and for a moment, you forgot all about James’s groaning, Sirius’s laughter, and the knowing look Remus was undoubtedly giving. All you could see was Barty- your boy, maddeningly confident yet infinitely tender, his green eyes locked onto yours as if you were the only person in the world.

And as maddening as it was, he certainly did deserve that kiss.

~~~

The firelight flickered warmly in the Potter living room as the group gathered for the holidays. Snow had blanketed the grounds outside, creating a cozy atmosphere inside the bustling house. You were curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your lap, a steaming mug of hot chocolate in your hands. James sat nearby, watching with a sharp eye as Barty leaned down to adjust the blanket around your legs, making sure you were tucked in properly.

The sight grated on James- he was used to being the one to look after you, his little sister, not this Crouch boy who had somehow wormed his way into your life. But then Barty turned, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside you, and James found himself watching the interaction more closely than he’d care to admit.

“You didn’t have to go out into the cold to fetch the marshmallows, you know,” You said softly, your voice filled with affection as you sipped your drink.

“Of course I did,” Barty replied, grinning up at you. “Your hot chocolate isn’t complete without them. It’s a crime to deprive you of anything less than perfection.”

James rolled his eyes, but Lily elbowed him gently, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Watch,” She whispered.

As if on cue, you reached for the plate of marshmallows to pop one into your drink, but Barty’s hand shot out to stop you. “Ah, ah, allow me,” He said with a dramatic flair, picking out the largest marshmallow with precision. He placed it delicately into your mug before handing it back with a flourish. “Perfectly placed, as all marshmallows should be.”

You laughed, a bright sound that made James pause. He couldn’t deny that it was genuine, the kind of laugh he hadn’t heard from you in a long time. And the way Barty looked at you in response- like your happiness was the only thing that mattered- made James’s chest tighten in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

As the night went on, James watched the two of you more closely. It wasn’t just the over-the-top gestures or the playful banter; it was the way Barty noticed the smallest things about you. How he shifted your mug away when he noticed you leaning too far forward, how he reached for the book you’d left on the side table before you even asked for it, how he listened intently to every word you said, his focus unwavering.

Merlin even their parents loved him.

Later, when the others had dispersed to different parts of the house, James found himself in the kitchen with Barty. The younger boy was rinsing out a mug, his usual bravado toned down in the quiet moment.

“You really care about her, don’t you?” James asked suddenly, his voice steady but curious.

Barty looked up, surprised by the question. But then his expression softened, and he nodded. “More than anything,” He said simply, his tone devoid of his usual dramatics. “She’s everything to me, Potter.”

James leaned against the counter, his arms crossed as he studied Barty carefully. “You know, if you hurt her, I’ll-”

“Spend every waking moment trying to kill me?” Barty interrupted with a small, knowing smile. “I know. But you won’t have to. Because I’d rather tear myself apart than see her hurt.”

James blinked, caught off guard by the raw sincerity in Barty’s voice. For the first time, he saw past the theatrics and charm, and what he found there surprised him. There was a genuine devotion, a steadfastness that even James couldn’t deny.

“You’re good to her,” James said finally, his voice quieter. “Better than I thought you’d be.”

Barty smirked, but there was no arrogance in it this time- only a quiet confidence. “She deserves nothing less.”

James nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. For the first time, he found himself believing that maybe- just maybe- Barty Crouch wasn’t the worst person his sister could have chosen. In fact, as he watched Barty quietly return the mug to the cupboard, James couldn’t help but think that she might have chosen someone who truly knew how to love her the way she deserved.

~~~

The tension between you and Barty had been simmering all day, ever since that small disagreement in the courtyard earlier. It wasn’t anything monumental- just one of his reckless decisions clashing with your cautious nature- but it had left you feeling irritated and, perhaps, a little hurt.

Now, as you sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, picking at your dinner, the weight of the silence between you lingered in the back of your mind. Barty hadn’t come to sit with you, choosing instead to stay at the Ravenclaw table. Every so often, you caught him sneaking a glance your way, but neither of you made a move to close the distance.

“You’re brooding,” Lily said gently, nudging your arm with her elbow.

“I’m not brooding,” You replied, though your tone lacked conviction.

“She’s brooding,” Sirius confirmed from across the table, earning a glare from you. “You’ve got that ‘he’s an idiot, but I still love him’ look all over your face. I'm very familiar."

You rolled your eyes, but before you could retort, Remus leaned in, his voice calm and measured. “You know, he’s been sulking at the Ravenclaw table since lunch. Practically hasn’t touched his food.”

“I don’t care,” You muttered, stabbing at your mashed potatoes.

“Sure, you don’t,” James said, his tone laced with sarcasm as he leaned back in his seat. “That’s why you’ve been glancing at him every five minutes.”

“I have not,” You snapped, though your cheeks flushed in betrayal.

James smirked, folding his arms across his chest. “Look, I’ll admit it- he’s an absolute pain sometimes. But he’s your pain, and frankly, I’ve put a lot of effort into liking this one. Don’t break his heart.”

The entire table froze. Lily’s fork clattered against her plate, and Sirius let out a loud, exaggerated gasp, slapping a hand over his mouth like he’d just heard the most scandalous news of the year.

“Did… did you just admit you like him?” Remus asked, his tone full of disbelief.

James shifted uncomfortably under the weight of everyone’s stares. “I didn’t say I like him,” He grumbled, though the tips of his ears burned red. “I just said I’ve put in the time.”

“That’s the same thing, mate,” Sirius said with a grin. “And we’re never letting you live this down.”

Lily laughed, nudging James playfully. “I think it’s sweet. It only took him months of watching them make heart eyes at each other to admit it.”

“Shut it, Evans,” James muttered, though his scowl softened as his gaze flicked to you. “Seriously, though. He’s mad about you. Don’t let this stupid fight ruin something good.”

You blinked at your brother, caught somewhere between gratitude and shock. “You really think that?”

James sighed, his expression softening. “Yeah. I do. Just… go talk to him, alright? Put me out of my misery.”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you as you stood, smoothing out your robes. “Fine. But if he’s still being a prat, I’m blaming you.”

“Fair,” James said, though he shot you a rare, encouraging smile.

As you crossed the Great Hall, you could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on you, the murmurs from the Gryffindor table blending with the soft hum of conversation around the room. When you reached the Ravenclaw table, Barty looked up, his green eyes widening in surprise as you stopped beside him.

“Treasure,” He started, his voice tentative, but you held up a hand to stop him.

“We need to talk,” You said firmly, though the corner of your lips twitched upward.

Barty stood immediately, his end of the bench scraping against the stone floor. “Anything. Anywhere.”

You nodded toward the doors, and he followed without hesitation, leaving behind his untouched dinner and a flurry of whispers in his wake.

Back at the Gryffindor table, James let out a heavy sigh of relief, leaning back in his chair. “Finally.”

“I can’t believe it,” Sirius said, shaking his head in mock astonishment. “Prongs has feelings. Actual, human feelings.”

“Don’t push it, Padfoot,” James muttered, though the faint smile on his face betrayed him.

Lily rested her chin on her hand, watching as you and Barty disappeared through the doors. “I think it’s sweet. He finally gets it.”

“Better late than never,” Remus added with a small smile. “Though I’m sure he’ll deny it by morning.”

Sirius, smirked devilishly and Lily’s smile twitched just a bit.

“It's almost like we didn't catch them snogging a few days ago.” He sang and James's face turned pale and his eyes widened.

James shot up from his seat so quickly that his table toppled backward, the loud clatter echoing through the Great Hall. “WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?”

Sirius threw his head back in laughter, nearly choking on his pumpkin juice, while Lily covered her mouth with her hand, clearly enjoying the chaos.

“I said,” Sirius repeated slowly, his grin widening, “it’s almost like we didn’t catch them snogging a few days ago. Almost.”

“You- you WHAT?” James sputtered, looking between Sirius and Lily with a mixture of horror and betrayal. “And you didn’t tell me? Evans! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“I am on your side,” Lily said, struggling to keep her composure as she shrugged innocently. “I just didn’t think it was a big deal. They’re dating, James. What did you expect?”

“What did I- what did I- NOT THAT!” James shouted, flailing his arms toward the doors where you and Barty had disappeared. “I didn’t expect him to be sticking his tongue down her throat in public!”

“It wasn’t public,” Sirius said with a mockingly thoughtful expression. “It was a little alcove near the library, actually. Quite private. You’d be proud of them, Prongs- very stealthy, very romantic. A solid 9 out of 10.”

James groaned, dragging his hands down his face dramatically as Remus finally chimed in, his tone calm but amused. “James, they’re in a relationship. This isn’t exactly shocking.”

“It is to me!” James snapped, glaring at Remus as if he’d just committed treason. “And you lot just sat on this information like it was nothing?”

“Mate, you’ve been watching them practically live in each other’s pockets for months now,” Sirius said, still grinning. “I figured you’d have put it together by now.”

Lily patted James’s arm consolingly, though her eyes still sparkled with mischief. “I think you’re just mad because you’re starting to like Barty, and this makes it harder for you to yell at him.”

James opened his mouth to argue, but the words caught in his throat. He closed his mouth, glaring at the table as his face turned an impressive shade of red.

“Admit it, Prongs,” Sirius said, leaning forward with a gleeful grin. “You like him. He’s grown on you.”

“I don’t like him,” James muttered, though his voice lacked its usual conviction. “I tolerate him. For her.”

“You tolerate him enough to tell her not to break his heart,” Remus pointed out, his lips twitching.

James groaned again, collapsing back into his seat with the air of a man defeated. “Fine. I don’t hate him. Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Sirius said with a wink. “Though I’d be happier if you didn’t look like you were about to throw a fit every time you saw them hold hands.”

Lily leaned in closer, her voice soft but teasing. “He loves her, James. And she loves him. That’s not something you need to fight.”

James sighed heavily, running a hand through his messy hair. “Yeah, well… if he hurts her, it’s still open season.”

“Fair enough,” Sirius said with a laugh. “But you’ll have to get in line behind her. She’s got a mean right hook.”

The table erupted into laughter, and even James couldn’t help but crack a small smile. Somewhere beyond the Great Hall doors, you and Barty were likely making amends, and for the first time, James felt a reluctant sort of peace about it.

He still didn’t like Barty- he probably never would- but he could admit, quietly and only to himself, that the boy made you happy. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sirius black #james potter #james potter x sister!reader #barty crouch jr x you #barty crouch x reader #barty x reader #barty crouch fanfic #barty crouch jr fanfic #barty crouch jr x reader #barty crouch junior #barty jr #lily Evans

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littlemisshyperfixation · 10 months ago

Text

Yoongi Fic Recommendations

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One Shots

Set Me Free (a f) by @casuallyimagining ⊹₊⋆ Tired of being told how to live his life and unsure of where he stands in the world, Yoongi--your soulmate--yearns to be free. When you give him what he wants, it causes a rift in your relationship that seems irreparable. 12 years later, you find him back in your life. Can you mend your relationship? Do you even want to?

back-burner (a f s) by @yoonpobs ⊹₊⋆ sometimes you felt like you were the back-burner of a two-decade-long friendship. how could you ever compete?

Love Language (a s f) by @gukslut ⊹₊⋆ Your boyfriend obviously loves you, but his silence has you questioning if he *wants* you. If you could only get past your damn insecurities maybe you could appreciate what you have.

27 Phone Numbers (f) by @bxebxee ⊹₊⋆ Yoongi has gone through twenty-seven phone numbers over the last ten years, and you haven’t changed yours since high school.

sweetner (f s) by @taegularities ⊹₊⋆ You used to know how he sounded when you were wrapped around him, but circumstances have pulled you apart and sent you scattering in opposite directions. Feelings shouldn't reappear so easily by simple words, but when you find yourselves in the same place once again, this is exactly what happens.

One Chance (f) by @out-of-jams ⊹₊⋆ A musical genius, a guy with a bad reputation, your assigned partner for your final project. And the last thing you ever would have expected.

Seasons Change (a s) by @taetaesbaebaepsae ⊹₊⋆ Min Yoongi and you, through the seasons, break up and come back together. Nobody said love was easy.

All That Holly, Jolly Sh*t (a f s) by @daechwitatamic ⊹₊⋆ You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you?

Now We Reign (a s f) by @oddinary4bts ⊹₊⋆ when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?

take five (a f) by @jiminrings ⊹₊⋆ you're min yoongi's nurse and you have a crush on him, and he gives you five chances to ask him out - he never said anything about accepting though.

The Final - Day 02 (s) by @yoongiofmine ⊹₊⋆ You've been Yoongi's go-to companion for the past few years, well aware that's all you were going to be. Despite your very real, growing feelings for the rapper, you took what you could get every time. Now, you're backstage at day two of the final leg of his tour when another member takes an interest in you. Will it be enough to make Yoongi realize he's got competition?

hello soulmate (f) by @bluemari23 ⊹₊⋆ your first day on the job doesn't turn out the exact way you envisioned

Sugar Rush Ride (s) by @lo1k-diamonds ⊹₊⋆ You produced a song based on your hidden desires for your fellow producer and promised yourself that tonight, things would change. You were done pining after him, but then he arrived at the listening party.

fuck being friends (a f s) by @strawberrynamjoon ⊹₊⋆ as if watching the guy you were hopelessly in love with hook up with another girl each weekend wasn’t enough, he also happened to be your best friend, making things extra complicated. and it only gets worse and worse once he finds you crying in the bathroom at a party one night.

Take One (s f) by @untaemedqueen ⊹₊⋆ There are three things which Yoongi was certain of. One, he was a big star in his field of work. Two, he had a huge cock, one to rival many of the largest names in his industry. Three, he can only find pleasure these days in written word.

Illicit Favors (f s) by @yoongiofmine ⊹₊⋆ When your editor tells you to re-write the chapters of your book because the sex scenes are weak, suggesting you write them from experience, what do you do when you lack any kind of sexual experiences in general? You go to your friend and ask him for help with it.

Bet On It (s) by @minisugakoobies ⊹₊⋆ What's a little wager between enemies? How about if it's your body on the line?

subscribed (s f) by @aquagustd ⊹₊⋆ you find out that youtube isn’t the only site he uses to satisfy his subscribers. what do you do with that information?

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eelnoise · 1 year ago

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beset fixation (nsfw!)

trafalgar law x gn!strawhat!reader cw: smut, possessive law, law struggles w/ feelings, soft law, piv sex, implied situationship, emotional law an: so in my head this takes place in wano, and is kind of a heat of the moment emotional type thing. in my head law's stupid slutty kimono is draped around his shoulders btw hehe tagging: @bby-deerling @kaizokuniichan @themushroomofdeath @risenwrites

Law is obsessed with you.

It eats at him, gnaws into his flesh like sharpened teeth. He feels childish, as if being played for a fool - but the fact of the matter is that you’ve clawed your way into his head. Law finds himself aching with an inexplicable pain that he cannot seem to mend on his own, one that snaps any strands of rationality in two and has him second, third, and fourth guessing his own words.

You’re a Strawhat. After this business is done and accounted for and the alliance ends, you’ll be enemies once again.

Yet Law can’t escape the deep-seated, profound, and frankly infuriating way you linger around in his mind. His inner thoughts speak in your voice, perfectly mimicking every single subtle nuance and tonal shift of the words you’ve spoken to him prior. He longs for your presence, even if he cannot reason with why. The only thing that Law has gleaned is that you are the root problem of it all - and he needs to let you go for his own sake.

Then why now does he have you upon hands and knees, back arched perfectly and covered in sweat while he buries himself as deep inside of you as he can?

Lithe fingers cup at your hips to keep you in place, tips digging into the pliant flesh with enough force to bruise twice over. Law’s pace is ruthless, pouring every single one of his feelings into you with every harsh thrust of his hips - and you still just don’t get it. Are you truly this oblivious to his behavior? How he craves the taste of your skin or the touch of your hands? He all but froths at the mouth when you’re with one of your crewmates, jaw clenching and fists balling at the thought of you leaving with them - leaving him behind.

Law grits his teeth in frustration, and takes it out with a rough smack to your ass. Your cry of ecstasy doesn’t go unnoticed, and his hold on you tightens further when your walls flutter against his cock. He can feel himself start to crumble, and with each salaciously delicious sound you spew he borders further and further off the edge of reality.

What’s stopping him from keeping you, really?

He could have you whenever he wanted – your touch and body available at the drop of a coin. Nevermore would he need to feel the crushing burden of your absence, to mend the seams of woe that have frayed into his nerves. Try as he might to fight it, this burning desire is kindled when you're with him.

And now, with you at his mercy beneath him, all thoughts feel like lies. Law feels his will breaking, and for a moment he casts logic aside. The smiles, the laughter, the vivid conversations you've shared – he wants them all to himself. It's selfish,and yet it can't be helped.

Law's thoughts are interrupted by the sound of your voice. Pleas of finality reach his ears – soft, shaky cries of delirium emanating from your tongue. He knows what you want, and he isn’t about to give you what you want. Not yet.

He slips out of you then, giving you a much needed but very much unwanted moment of reprieve that's cut short before you can even turn your head up toward him in question. Law shifts his hold on your hips and flips you onto your back, hands curling against the undersides of your knees and pressing them toward your chest. Just as he’s realigning himself with you he pauses, unable to stop himself from raising his gaze to yours.

Law inhales sharply and can feel his gaze soften as he looks into your eyes. And in another bout of weakness does his heart leap, a warmth spreading within him that feels so unfamiliar but not unwelcome. He leans forward over your body to quickly capture your lips to his, simultaneously sheathing himself back within you. He swallows both the gasp from your throat as well as his own guilt, indulging himself in the wistful tangle of emotions and limbs that is this moment.

Your tongue eagerly twists into his, your arms coming to cross around his shoulders as if desperate to get as close to him as you can. Law obliges you, wrapping his own arms around your lower back and squeezing you to his chest – though he longs to melt into you entirely. He’s slower now, the rock of his hips beginning to move with more purpose and with an undeniable sense of not-so-hidden sentiment.

It feels like his sense of self has vanished, and in its place stands someone he doesn’t know. As if the sums of his of attempts at reason had subtracted tenfold. His kiss doesn’t end - save for seconds of breath - slotting your lips together in a long sermon of implicit confessions that are long overdue.

The feeling overtakes him, and soon enough he’s muttering nonsense into your ear about how he needs you and how you make him feel. Telling you all the ways he craves your entire being, how much you’ve changed the way he thinks. It's more than he’s said to anyone at once before, and he doesn’t know – doesn’t care – where it’s coming from.

You reciprocate. It shocks him – the words falling from your tongue should sound foreign, but they don’t. They’re real and they’re raw and they bring Law a comfort he shouldn’t crave.

But he does, he craves it like no other. And hearing your revelation solidifies it.

Law isn’t leaving this country without you by his side.

#one piece x y/n #one piece smut #one piece x reader #x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law smut #lawrence !!#law x reader #law x y/n #op smut #op scenario #one piece x reader smut

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anotherlongstoryshort · 5 months ago

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Things about the Wisdom Saga that have plagued me all damn day

Legendary

Whether intentional or not, Miguel's Telemachus really sounds like a younger version of Jorge's Odysseus. And that hurts.

"If I fight those monsters, is it you I'll find?" The layers. Could he go out and hunt for his father? Could he find his 'legendary' strength within himself? Or will Odysseus be the 'monster' he finds?

"Somebody help me, come and give me the strength" And his call is answered T_T

20 years.

Antinous fully interrupts this bop. Rude.

Ayron sounds legitimately scary and Telemachus taking a stand is so O.O

Little Wolf

I wanna fight this guy. Love that Athena agrees. (The beat of the song and sharp bursts of vocals really emulate blows.)

The quaver on "I don't know how".

Athena is immediately charmed by Telemachus' enthusiasm. She sounds so fond.

The fact she sees heart in him as an advantage when it was Odysseus choosing heart over mind that drove them apart. Guh.

Did she tell him to bite Antinous? XD

"Oh, maybe I pushed you a bit too hard." The change in her perspective is already so apparent - she wouldn't have admitted a mistake or miscalculation to Odysseus.

We'll Be Fine

"I had a friend before..." A FRIEND? FRIEND?!?!

An admission that she didn't fully appreciate what Odysseus was going through, that she feels guilty for having "missed it all".

It's unclear to begin with if she's come to Telemachus for Odysseus, or to try and replace him. Both are equally heart-breaking.

"I don't know who your friend is, I don't know what he's like" UNKNOWINGLY ECHOING HIS OWN THOUGHTS IN 'LEGENDARY'. NO IT'S FINE I'M FINE.

"The best day of my life because I got in a fight and I didn't die! :D" Telemachus, child, please.

"We'll be fine" using the same run as "this is my goodbye" T_T

Him immediately offering up friendship to Athena, like Odysseus once did, must hit her so hard. "You're a good kid." Yes he is - because he's more like his dad than he knows.

Love in Paradise

"Old friend..." FRRRRRIIIIEEEENNNNNDDDDD!!!!!

10 years.

The memory fragments sounding so fraught and chaotic together, hitting harder because they're hitting Athena all at once. She missed a lot.

"She's my wife." "Anyways..." Calypso, girl, please.

Love that they're singing completely different melodies through the first half of this song for two reasons: because Odysseus is revisiting previous motifs, once more trying to hold onto the man he was, and also because it shows Calypso is not willing to compromise on what she wants.

"Last I checked goddesses can't die." We'll come back to this later.

Then Odysseus realises he is truly trapped and he sings along to Calypso's melody in muted horror.

POLITIES OUT HERE STILL HAUNTING THE NARRATIVE.

Just the words "open arms" are enough to confront Odysseus (again) with all he's lost. All he hears are screams.

And the one he screams out for is Athena.

"He needs my help." NO KIDDING GO GET YOUR BOY.

God Games

"Father, God, King..." There's a lot to unpack in that fun family dynamic.

"To untie apprehensions that were placed on that Greek?" Zeus is like, nobody likes that guy, why do you care?

The gods being called out like X Factor finalists is everything.

So there's a great contrast against the previous song - unlike Calypso, Athena is matching each of her singing partners with their tone and beat as she convinces them. She isn't winning by 'imposing her will', she's meeting them where they are.

Rational arguments work until Aphrodite, where Athena says "please" for the first time. She softens to appeal to Aphrodite, which is why Ares has to step in.

The way she says his name XD

Ares' lines sound like as much of a fighting chant as 'Little Wolf' did, which makes it all the better that the mention of Telemachus is what gets her to 'fight back'.

"His son's my friend!" YES HE IS. And Athena of all people declaring "a broken heart can mend" is fascinating. Can't help but wonder if she's talking about herself coming around to forgiving Odysseus.

"Never once has he cheated on his wife." Handwaving the source material is worth it for this line ALONE.

Zeus is so pressed by everyone openly knowing he cheats on Hera. Stop doing it then my dude.

Ares sounding genuinely concerned for Athena is doing things to me. Goddesses can't die, huh?

Her time motif flitting in and out like a weak heartbeat.

The soft piano of 'Warrior of the Mind', touching on a whisper of 'Legendary', then rising to a triumphant crescendo as Athena regains herself. I will be forever haunted by visions of Odysseus and Telemachus helping her to her feet.

And then, finally, she faces her own father and begs. Because Odysseus and Telemachus deserve a chance to be father and child.

The parallel, by the way, of Athena entering this saga to help an outnumbered Telemachus, and now closing it with him/Odysseus unknowingly helping her win her own battle too. JORGE HOW DARE YOU T_T

#athena is my fav can you tell #I haven't seen any animatics don't come for me #epic the musical #the wisdom saga #athena #telemachus #odysseus #jorge rivera herrans

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maxtermind · 10 months ago

Note

absolutely loved ‘baby, would i still be your lover’, everyone single one got me in my feels! i was wondering would you consider doing a part 2? whether it ends in angst or fluff

I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye

★ : summary :: when he accidentally insults you during an argument- aftermath ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: hurt/comfort, hints of angst ★ : word count :: 4.3k ★ : a/n :: thank you so much for the love on part 1 💓 some of these have open ending so you can pick whether you'd like to forgive them or not as a reader!! feedback is appreciated :)

( part 1 )

Max Verstappen

You sighed as you sat down to have your morning tea as usual, trying to pretend that nothing was wrong. As if you hadn't spent all night long getting your phone spammed with calls that you were ignoring.

After mindlessly roaming around for a bit, you eventually decided to crash at your best friend’s place. You lazily waved at her as she frantically got ready to leave for work. However, you were on your tiptoe as soon as the door opened.

A body that was possibly sleeping while leaning against the door fell inside and you heard curses that you were quite too familiar with. Your heart clenched at the sight of your boyfriend - or perhaps now, your ex-boyfriend - on his knees, nursing the wound on his head. The ache of seeing him in pain reignited the anguish you thought you had left behind.

“Okay,” you heard your friend murmur. “I'm gonna let you guys get to it.” She was out the door a second later.

You looked at the closed door instead of the man who was desperately trying to make eye contact with you.

“How long have you…” You trailed off before deciding that you didn't want to know.

“As soon as you turned your phone off, Y/N! I've been here since last night.” "Why?" you choked out, the words barely escaping your lips as tears threatened to overflow. His brows furrowed before he ran his hands over his face and got up to sit right next to you. You saw his hand itching toward yours and instinctively pulled it towards your body. "Because I needed to see you in person, to talk." He took another deep breath and you later realized that he was trying to stop himself from crying. “I realize I messed up, baby. I.. I never should have let you walk out.” But his attempt to mend the shattered pieces of your relationship only served to reopen the wounds, your walls instinctively rising in defense,"Talk? You think a talk is going to fix everything?" Max's eyes were filled with a mix of regret and desperation as he reached out for your hand, his fingers trembling slightly. "No, I don't think a talk will magically fix everything," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion.

"But it's a start. I need you to know that I'm truly sorry for what happened. I hate myself for hurting you, for making you doubt how much you mean to me."

You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, the pain of the previous night still too fresh in your mind.

“How can I trust you again, Max? How can I be sure that this won't happen again?" Your voice was barely a whisper, filled with the ache of betrayal.

Max's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I know I've messed up, Y/N. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. I'll work on my temper, I’ll be better to you, I'll do anything you ask of me. I just need you to give me another chance." “You know you’ve always been the best to me, right? I just can’t believe that instead of talking it out yesterday, you straight up skipped to breaking up wit-” Fresh tears started falling down your cheeks. Max immediately leaned forward to hold you in his arms and you let him because you needed him. But how could you trust him again? How could you be sure that history wouldn't repeat itself? That he won’t throw away your whole relationship just because the anger got a hold of him? As Max held you close, you felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over you. Part of you wanted to push him away, to scream and shout at him for causing you so much pain. But another part of you craved his warmth, his touch, his presence.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Max whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I know I messed up, and I hate myself for it. I never meant to hurt you, I swear."

You buried your face in his chest, the tears soaking through his shirt as you struggled to make sense of your feelings.

“I just don't know if I can do this anymore, Max," you admitted, your voice muffled against him. Max tightened his embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "I understand," he murmured, his voice gentle. His admission eased your thumping heart a bit, you were glad to have him back. The storm within you finding a momentary calm.

"I made you feel like our relationship was disposable, like breaking up was no big deal. But that couldn't be further from the truth. You're the most important person in my life, baby and the thought of losing you terrifies me. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right between us, to show you just how much you mean to me. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust if you still want me."

Lewis Hamilton

The weight of Lewis's words hung heavy in the air, suffocating you as you retreated into the sanctuary of your bedroom. Tears streamed down your cheeks unchecked, your heart aching with a pain you couldn't quite comprehend. How had a day that started with such a promise turned into this? You buried your face in your hands, the sting of Lewis's words feeling like acid running through your veins.

Outside the door, the silence was deafening, broken only by the muffled sound of your sobs. Lewis stood frozen in place, his mind racing as he replayed the exchange in his head.

He couldn't believe the words that had escaped his lips, couldn't fathom how he had allowed his frustration to morph into such hurtful remarks.

Minutes stretched into eternity as Lewis grappled with the weight of his actions, the gravity of his words settling like a lead weight in his chest.

He wanted to reach out to you, to apologize and make things right, but his feet remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the magnitude of his mistake.

Inside the bedroom, you were consumed by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Anger, hurt, betrayal - they all swirled together into an ugly monster, threatening to engulf you whole.

How could the man you loved, the man who had always been your rock, turn on you with such venom?

But beneath the anger and hurt, there was a flicker of doubt, a gnawing fear that maybe Lewis's words held a grain of truth. Maybe you were too insecure, too needy, too demanding. Maybe you were asking for too much, expecting him to be there for you when he had his own priorities and responsibilities. Maybe-

The sound of a soft knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see Lewis standing there, his expression wrought with regret and guilt. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the unspoken apology hanging heavy in the air. Looking at him distraught made your chest feel worse. How could he make you feel ten fold worse than this and not feel a thing?

"I'm sorry," Lewis finally whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't mean what I said. I was out of line, and I know I hurt you. Please, let me make it right." He rushed through the words.

His words pierced through the haze of your pain, and you felt a bit of heaviness leaving your body. He crossed the room in a few strides, dropping to his knees in front of you, his eyes pleading for forgiveness.

"I don't know what came over me," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion before your boyfriend took your hand away from your face and kissed your cheeks. "I was so caught up in my own frustrations that I lashed out at you, and I hate myself for it. You don't deserve to be treated that way, especially not by me."

You studied his face, searching for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was genuine remorse and regret. And despite the pain still raw in your chest, you couldn't deny the love you felt for him, the longing to mend what had been broken between you. “You hurt me,” you whispered but didn’t push him away as he laid down with you, holding you close to his chest. Some of your resolve wavering when you felt his fast heartbeat. “I wanted you there so much.” He nodded as he shushed you, his own eyes dropping tears. “I’m so so sorry, baby. I can't even begin to express how deeply I regret the way I acted the whole day, I know you deserve so much more but-” You shifted slightly, knowing all that you wanted right now was comfort, you didn't want to forgive him or minimize the weight of his actions. "I don't know if I can right now," you replied, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions.

Lewis's eyes brimmed with tears as he whispered, "Please don't shut me out. I can't bear the thought of losing you."

You felt a pang of guilt at the pain evident in his voice. "I just need some time to process everything," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I understand," Lewis replied, his tone filled with sorrow. "But please know that I'm here whenever you're ready to talk."

You nodded, silently acknowledging his words as you allowed yourself to be enveloped in his comforting embrace.

"I promise to make it up to you," Lewis vowed earnestly, his voice laced with determination. "I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust."

"I want to believe you," you admitted quietly, your heart heavy with uncertainty. Everything was a little too raw right now and your emotions were all over the place.

"I'll spend every moment proving it to you," Lewis declared, his eyes locking with yours in a silent vow.

“I was thoughtless and cruel today, and I never should have let those words leave my lips. You are not insecure, you are strong and resilient, baby. You deserve so much better than the hurtful words I spoke. Please know that I can’t lose you, Y/N. I will work tirelessly to regain your trust and rebuild what I have so carelessly shattered. You mean the world to me, and I will spend every moment striving to be worthy of your love.”

Carlos Sainz

As you sat nervously in your childhood home, the familiar sights and sounds providing little comfort, your mind raced with thoughts of disappointment and hurt.

For the third time, Carlos had failed to join you in meeting your parents, leaving you to face their questioning looks and unspoken concerns alone. You had rehearsed what you would say to them, how you would explain his absence, but each time, the words caught in your throat, choked by a mixture of frustration and sadness. For the past few days since you walked out of your apartment, you had been ignoring Carlos’ attempts to reconcile with you. The calls and texts he spammed you with were ignored and curses left your mouth as soon as your mind went back to the day of the argument, bringing unwanted tears to your eyes.

In the passing, you saw a Ferrari conference being conducted and as much as you wanted to reach out and talk it out with him, your heart did flips that you were sure you should have visited a doctor for.

Your parents, ever perceptive, noticed your unease as you fidgeted with the napkin in your lap, casting worried glances in your direction. You tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it faltered, betraying the turmoil within you.

How could you explain to them that the man you loved couldn't find the time to meet them, despite his promises and assurances? "What's wrong, sweetie?" your mom asked, concern evident in her voice.

You sighed, hesitating for a moment before replying, "It's Carlos... He like…"

Your dad's brow furrowed. "Is everything okay?"

You tried to muster a reassuring smile. "Yeah, he said that he got caught up with work. You know how busy he is with his racing and all..." Your dad’s brows furrowed when you trailed off, about to ask you what exactly you meant but just as you were steeling yourself to broach the subject, the doorbell rang, startling you from your thoughts.

Your heart sank as you realized it was likely a neighbor stopping by to meet you since you don’t visit that often, you stood up to go greet them. But then, to your disbelief, you heard his voice drifting through the door, before you saw your boyfriend standing right behind it. Your head titled in confusion and you drew a breath that took most of the stress from the previous days away from your body.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, his tone apologetic yet determined. Carlos took your hand and kissed it lightly,"Traffic was a nightmare." “What about the conference that you-” “You’re the most important person in my life, Y/N.” He cut you off before pulling you in and walking to the dining room that was in his vision. As if that was the answer to your question.

You turned to face him, your eyes wide with surprise and a flicker of hope. There he was, looking slightly disheveled but undeniably earnest, his gaze that locked on yours was as if it was seeking forgiveness. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the regret etched in the lines of his face.

Your parents exchanged a glance, their expressions softening as they took in the sight of Carlos standing before them.

Despite their reservations about his repeated absences, they couldn't deny the genuine affection that Carlos held in his eyes when he looked at you.

Before you could find the words to respond, Carlos took a step forward, his hand reaching out tentatively. "I'm really sorry, both of you," he said, addressing your parents directly.

"I know how important this is to you, and I should have made more of an effort to be here on time."

His words hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of his shortcomings and a pledge to do better. You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a mixture of relief, gratitude, and a glimmer of renewed faith in your relationship. "Well, we're just glad you could make it," your dad said, offering Carlos a handshake.

"Thank you for coming, Carlos," your mother said, her voice warm yet cautious. "We understand that life gets busy, but it's important to make time for the people who matter most."

Carlos nodded, his expression earnest as he met her gaze. "I couldn't agree more. Family means putting in effort, I promise to make it up to all of you."

As you sat down to dinner, the atmosphere was tinged with a sense of reconciliation and hope. Your hand still intertwined with his as you saw him charm your family. Despite the rocky start, Carlos's presence brought a newfound sense of unity and understanding to the table. And as you shared stories and laughter, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to mend what had seemed irreparably broken.

In that moment, you realized that love wasn't just about grand gestures or sweeping declarations—it was about the everyday moments of connection and compromise, the willingness to forgive and grow together.

And as you looked at Carlos, his eyes filled with determination and affection, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand.

Charles Leclerc

Charles had apologized right after he had said those words and though you had both fallen back into routine, the underlying bitterness and resentment was still present. You weren’t the one initiating any kind of affection from your side and every time Charles was initiating anything, you half assed your way out of it. Was it childish? Probably. But you were still not comfortable with how easily you had forgiven Charles, burying your hurt just to avoid conflict once again despite knowing deep down that he has hurt you probably more than anyone else ever has. These thoughts were running through your head as you sat beside Charles, your heart still heavy with the weight, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. Especially because Charles seemed distant, his mind preoccupied with thoughts, that you couldn't help but wonder what exactly they were. Why had he even asked to go on a date today? To break up with you? Suddenly, Pippa appeared, her presence causing the knot to form in your stomach to get tighter. She approached with a confident stride, a charming smile gracing her lips as she greeted Charles with a hug.

"Hey, Charlie!" Pippa exclaimed, her eyes flickering briefly in your direction before returning to Charles. "Long time no see!"

Charles returned her hug, though his embrace seemed somewhat forced. "Hey, Pippa. Yeah, it's been a while."

You observed their interaction closely, your unease growing with each passing moment. Pippa's presence always seemed to unsettle you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their friendship than met the eye. Was he gonna break up with you in public and confess his years long feelings for Pippa? Charles glanced at you, his expression softening as he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I was just out with Y/N today."

You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth at his actions, his affectionate gesture soothing some of the tension that had been building between you.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Pippa said, offering you a friendly smile. "Sorry I didn’t see you next to Charlie."

You returned her smile, though it didn't quite reach your eyes and managed to reply without gagging. "Nice to meet you, Pippa." Charles tightened his grip on your hand, silently reassuring you of his presence and support. "We were just grabbing a coffee," he explained, his gaze flickering between you and Pippa. "Care to join us?"

Pippa hesitated for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced at you before turning back to Charles. "Actually, I was hoping we could catch up alone, if that's okay."

You felt a pang of anxiety at her words, a sense of foreboding settling in the pit of your stomach. Despite your reservations, you nodded, forcing a smile as you released Charles's hand. It was better to walk away yourself than to have Charles dismiss you.

"Of course," you said, though your voice sounded strained even to your own ears. "I'll wait for you outside."

Charles shot you an alarmed look as you stood up,”I’ll see you in a few.” Charles’ hand lingered on yours for a moment longer before you reluctantly let go and made your way to the door.

You leaned against your car and enjoyed the wind for a second. You couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of the exchange between your boyfriend and his best friend sitting inside.

You were half scared to find them kissing or something but, instead a sense of confusion washed over you as you watched the way Pippa was angrily point a finger at Charles and scream at him.

It was a second later when she stormed out before making her way towards you.

"Is he doing this because of you?!" Pippa's accusatory tone sent a shiver down your spine, her words hitting too close to home.

Before you could even process what was happening, Charles emerged from the cafe, his expression determined as he approached you and Pippa.

"Go home, Pippa," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument as he intertwined his hand with yours.

Pippa's eyes blazed with anger, her fists clenched at her sides as she glared at Charles. "You will regret this, Charles!" she spat before storming off, leaving you both standing there in stunned silence.

Once Pippa was out of sight, you turned to Charles, your heart pounding in your chest. "What was that all about?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you with apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry you had to witness that, Y/N. Pippa has been... difficult lately."

You frowned, your mind reeling with confusion and frustration. "Difficult how?"

Charles hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find the right words. "She's been pushing boundaries, trying to come between us. But I won't let her."

"Hey," he continued, taking your hand in his. "I told Pippa that I wouldn't be spending time with her alone anymore. If she can't accept you, then it's better for us to not be friends at all."

You blinked in surprise, a rush of gratitude flooding through you at his words. "Really?"

Charles nodded, squeezing your hand gently. "Really. You're the most important person in my life, and I won't let anyone come between us."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. "Thank you, Charles. I appreciate you standing up for us."

He smiled softly, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "I'll always stand up for us, Y/N. You mean everything to me."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you threw your arms around him, holding him close. Despite the lingering bitterness and resentment, you couldn't deny the overwhelming love you felt for him in that moment.

Lando Norris

As you stepped out of the taxi, the cool night air enveloped you, offering a moment of respite from the whirlwind of emotions that had engulfed you throughout the evening.

Your heart still felt heavy with the weight of Lando's hurtful words, but beneath the pain, a numbness resided- knowing deep down that you might’ve just broken up with your boyfriend.

Before you could take another step, you heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching from behind. Turning around, you saw Lando rushing towards you, his eyes filled with remorse and his expression wrought with sorrow. Your hand instinctively went to your chest, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart.

"Y/N, please wait," he called out, his voice pleading as he reached your side, breathless from his haste.

You pulled your face to meet his eyes, uncertainty and wariness etched into your features as you met his gaze. Part of you yearned to turn away, to shield yourself from the pain of his words, but another part couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, he was sincere in his apology.

"Lando," you said softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of hurt and apprehension. You wanted to say more but the damn ball in your throat stopped you doing so.

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours as he searched for the right words to express the depth of his regret. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I hurt you, and I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for that."

His words washed over you like a soothing balm, offering a sliver of comfort. But still, you couldn't bring yourself to let go of the hurt that lingered in your heart.

"I should have been there for you tonight, supporting you and showing you how much you mean to me," Lando continued, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "Instead, I let my own selfishness and insecurities get in the way, and for that, I am truly sorry."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to him, the sincerity in his voice echoing the ache in your own heart. You were sure you’ll regret letting go of this amazing relationship without at least attempting to work on it.

Despite the pain he had caused you, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to rebuild what had been broken.

"I don't expect you to forgive me right away, Y/N," Lando said softly, his hands shaking and showcasing the intensity of his vulnerability.

"I know I have a lot of work to do to earn back your trust and your love. But please, just give me a chance to make things right. I promise to do whatever it takes to show you how much you mean to me, every single day for the rest of my life."

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity and remorse, leaving you torn between the desire to hold onto the pain of the past and the hope for a brighter future. As you gazed into his eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity or deceit, all you found was raw honesty and unwavering devotion.

With a heavy heart and a flicker of hope, you reached out to take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "I don't know if I'm ready to forgive you just yet, Lando," you whispered, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Lando takes a step closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. "I'll spend every moment proving I'm worthy of your love, Y/N. Let me show you how much you mean to me, starting from this moment. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, even if it means giving you the space you need. Just know that I'm here for you, whenever you're ready."

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

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ofbatsandballads · 28 days ago

Text

please take this. I made myself cry writing it and I have nothing to say except that putting ya’aburnee and darling by halsey on my jason playlist was a brutal choice. also look up flower language if you want additional feelings.

There’s so many things you want for Jason Todd.

You want him to get a good night’s sleep for once. You let him close his pretty seafoam eyes and lay his head in the crook of your neck as you scratch gently at his scalp. It always calms him down, grounds him in the here and now. Your arms around him, your fingers carding through his hair, the rise and fall of your chest that’s synced with his–it all reminds him that he’s safe, that he’s home. You want that feeling to follow him into his dreams, to let him find true rest. So when his body goes tense and his breathing gets labored, you hold him closer and hum gently into his ear until whatever haunts him in his sleep is chased away by the comfort you bring.

You want to make sure he’s protected. You wish you could deflect every hit, blade, and bullet away from his body. You wish he would see his body as something worth protecting. He would stop if you asked, would settle into a normal life as best as he could. You would never ask because to do so would be to deny the part of him you love most: his heart that beats to help others. So you protect him in the ways that you can. You stitch cuts and treat burns, you mend his jackets and help clean his guns. More than anything, you guard his peace of mind like it’s the most valuable thing in the world. You’re never cruel to him, never scream vicious words or toss him out into the cold night. You call Bruce and thank him for the first edition Jane Austen novels that arrived on your doorstep on August 16th when Jason just…can’t. You let him grip your hand brutally tight under the table when you go to the manor for Thanksgiving for the first time. And when it gets really bad? When he feels the burning of green waters that breathed life into him that he didn’t want, when hideous laughter echoes in a place it’s never been? You do something no one has ever done for him. You wait. You stay. You stay by his side until he can breathe again, until dawn breaks and he can see the light again. And always, always you, haloed in it like an angel he doesn’t think he deserves. He does.

You want him to have a good cup of hot chocolate. He told you about it once when he came home after a long winter patrol. Half delirious from exhaustion, he reminisced about how Bruce would make them both a cup of hot chocolate after particularly rough or successful patrols in December. How this specific hot chocolate had no equal—even Alfred couldn’t replicate the richness and warmth. You noticed the fondness in his voice, the longing so intense that it still makes your heart ache for him. So you do some light stalking and hunt down Tim Drake, demand that he give you the information you want or else you’ll disclose how he really lost his spleen to Bruce (why he was dense enough to tell Jason, you’ll never know). And that is how Bruce Wayne, billionaire philanthropist single father and the Batman, receives an email with the subject line “URGENT: Recipe Request” that reads as follows:

To whom it may concern,

I have been made aware that you have a remarkably compelling hot chocolate recipe that is hitherto unparalleled by cafes, franchises, and butlers alike. I am emailing you to inquire about my being sent this recipe post-haste. This is less a request than a demand. I will do my best to ensure that you, at some point in time not specified (it will take great effort on my part), are able to witness the consumption of the hot chocolate by the individual that will be receiving the product of the recipe.

Best regards,

Someone who loves your son.

Bruce sends the recipe the second he receives the email. He has to sneak his phone under the conference table at the Wayne Enterprises board meeting to do it, but he still manages to reply in two minutes and forty-seven seconds. And you make good on your promise. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jason shine as brightly as he does that Christmas, lit up by the lights on the twelve foot tree as he sips his hot chocolate from the same red mug that’s been sitting in the kitchen cabinet since he last drank from it. The matching black mug is clasped in the hands of the hot chocolate connoisseur himself, who smiles softly like the magic of the season has returned to his life for the first time in ages.

You want him to heal. It’s a big ask; you know that. But you’ve never been one for giving up hope, and if anyone can manage to achieve the impossible, it’s Jason. So you tell him it’s a great idea when he jokes about getting a therapist. You wait for him in the car the first time he goes and you let him open up to you in his own time when he comes out of the appointment body tight as a bowstring and eyes bloodshot. You watch quietly and celebrate the little victories you see him win. He can call his father first now; he doesn’t do it often, but he can. He can talk to his younger brother without hating his hands and the blood that’s been spilled on them, without going out on patrol and intentionally letting all the worst hits make contact. He can go out to lunch with his older brother and his youngest, can laugh with them over that ridiculous thing Bruce did at a gala once to make them all laugh. He can bear his birthday a little bit better now, can accept the cake you bake and actually make a wish when he blows out the candles. But you’ll never know about the moment that you start to get what you want. Jason goes to visit his own grave on the anniversary of his death and finds a bouquet of red carnations, baby’s breath, and honeysuckle with a note in your handwriting that reads “Someone told me once that you were magic, that that was the best thing about you. I think it’s far more important that you were loved. I don’t know what you could’ve been. I don’t wonder about it like those that loved you did because all I know is who you became. He’s wonderful. He’s still magic. I think you’d be proud of him. I’ll do my best to take care of him for you.” He sits there for an hour in tears. Then he takes one bud of each flower and the note, goes home and presses them into the pages of his favorite book. He holds you in his arms in bed that night and feels, for the first time in a long time, a sense of peace down to his very bones.

You want—above all else—Jason Todd to feel loved. You want him to feel so cherished and wanted that he cannot possibly look at himself without realizing that he is something precious, something beloved. So you tell him that you love him and you accept his warm embrace as his way of saying it back. You make him chocolate chip cookies and sneak one into the pocket of his tactical pants when he goes on patrol (they’re soft, they don’t get crunched when he’s thrown from a roof). You read his favorite books to understand what he’s saying when he goes off on tangents about class and social hierarchy and how they governed life in the 19th century. You trace his scars and kiss away his tears when he can’t believe that he could be transformed from a being marred by brutality into a man revered with gentleness. You will love him until the day you both die. You will love him in death, until whatever atoms made up you and him come together again. You will love him until everything that ever is or ever was ceases to be in a supernova of light. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll love him in whatever is born after.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #remy writes 🖋️#so. uh. this is a lot. my yearning and vast capacity for love consumed me. I’m sorry.

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fairestwriting · 9 days ago

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Azul, Ruggie, and Lilia seeing their crush sleeping with a plush that looks like them! (An octopus plush, hyena doll, and a bat!)

𐙚 Azul Ashengrotto

When he tries to think of a sea creature that could make for a good design for a plush toy, octopi definitely aren’t the first to come to mind. It’s not like he’s never seen an octopus plush before. He just can’t bring himself to think they look cute and cuddly enough, they read more like a marketing mistake to him— or that’s what he would want others to believe, at least.

He actually has a bit of a soft spot for plush toys. They’re not much of a thing back home, where fabric usage is restricted only to things that can survive the harshness of the salt water. The plushies he’s seen for sale there aren’t as cute looking as the ones he’s seen on land, he’s firmly decided, then kept it to himself because the thought of having opinions on “children’s toys” at his age feels too embarrassing.

Azul maybe had a passing thought about you owning an octopus plush before, but dismissed it as him being kind of desperate. After all, even landmade octopus plushes aren’t really that cute, are they… you’d probably prefer something that’s easier to hold. And that’s if you even like that kind of stuff at all— He honestly thinks of you so highly sometimes, the idea of you owning plush toys feels unrealistic. Even if that thought itself doesn’t make that much sense.

You maybe had invited him over to study, the day he walks in and sees you with that plush, and it almost made him trip on nothing when he did. ”Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d be asleep! Would you prefer I come back some other time?” He says in a flustered rush, it’s really a trial for him to get his thoughts back together if you, on top of everything else, ask him to stay. Inside his mind, the scene is crystallized like a crucial memory, and he feels flustered all over again when he comes back to it. If you two did study that day, he didn’t memorize a single word.

𐙚 Ruggie Bucchi

He’s seen little plush hyenas on storefronts back home, there’s been periods where they were trendy in his neighborhood too. Maybe he’s even mended one of the toys before, or purchased one or two to give out as a gift. They’re all far from being high quality, probably even a little wonky looking, he never thought too much about them.

If you ever expressed an interest in plushies, he’s definitely made you a little something as a gift. Maybe a plush keychain, since sewing a doll by hand would require an amount of time he sadly doesn’t have. It may have been a hyena or not, when doing this his first thought is to go for whatever your favorite animal is, and hyenas aren’t exactly the most popular, right? The association of the gift with himself doesn’t really come to mind at first.

Then, one day, he comes over to your dorm room to check up on you — it’s just a thing he likes doing from time to time — and he sees you asleep with the plushie in your arms. Ruggie’s heart melts, it immediately reminds him of home, he can’t resist taking a sneaky picture to keep to himself. “Shishi, I didn’t know you missed me so much while I was busy”, he lovingly teases you when you wake up. He’ll be curious about where you got it, wanting to know more about the “little guy”, as he calls it.

The whole thing makes him feel really proud of himself. He takes a little break to hang out with you and just relax for a moment, so you ”don’t have to feel lonely” when he leaves for his Lounge shift. One day, you come back to your bedroom to find out that a yellow bandana was tied around your doll’s neck, a tiny, embroidered thing made to look like the one Ruggie wears with his dorm uniform.

𐙚 Lilia Vanrouge

There’s no surprises here, because he 100% bought the plushie and gifted it to you himself. You couldn’t possibly beat him to it when he’s so often thinking about how endearing you are doing this or that. He walked by the store, the idea popped up in his mind, and so he executed his plan. It was only a matter of time until he would get to see you being cute with it.

Lilia’s very straightforward about it. “I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be too sad whenever I’m away,” He tells you when he hands over the gift, smiling wide. The plushie has an oddly really specific look, being bigger than what you’d imagine for a bat, with bead eyes that were almost the exact same color as his own. He may or may not have had it slightly altered. He was really a man on a mission with this one.

He already seems to linger around your dorm way too often, straight up inviting himself is a line he won’t cross, but he sure manages to find a lot of excuses to be around. Since giving you the plushie, it gets even more frequent. You hear lots of cheeky excuses, things about how he decided to try out Malleus’ exploration hobby, or supposed dorm vice leader duties that definitely don't exist. And he knows you don’t believe any of it too, he’s just being coy. It’s basically just one of the many ways he flirts with you.

When he shows up, Lilia tiptoes the line between your nightly free time and the moment you go to bed. He knows he could probably just watch you from outside the window, but where’s the fun in that? He wants to actually be allowed to get as close as he can, instead of just staring at a distant image through a glass pan. The night he finally sees it, he can’t stop smiling to himself. How silly, for an old man like him to get so giddy over something so small, he thinks while he giggles. You wake up to a single, slightly cryptic feeling text saying he’s happy you enjoyed his gift so much.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #azul ashengrotto #ruggie bucchi #lilia vanrouge #azul ashengrotto x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst imagines #twst headcanons #lis writing

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greengoblinswifey · 11 days ago

Text

Mended Hearts—Hwang Jun ho x Fem!Reader

summary— Jun-ho's relentless pursuit of finding the island has strained your relationship, leaving you feeling neglected and unseen. After weeks of distance and dismissiveness, you confront him, your frustrations spilling over into a heated argument that ends with apologies and comfort ;) Based on this request.

warnings— angst, arguing, fluff, praise kink, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare.

a/n— never thought i’d be writing for jun-ho but here i am, a woman of and for the people🙏🏽

It had been weeks since Jun-ho had truly looked at you. His focus had shifted entirely to uncovering the secrets of some stupid island, the one tied to the Squid Game, the one that consumed him. The man who had once wrapped his arms around you with love, who smiled at you like you were his safe place, now felt like a stranger. His tone was sharp, his responses were sparse, and the long nights he used to spend with you were now filled with files, maps, obsession and out on a boat.

You stood at the doorway to the dimly lit apartment, watching him at his desk. His back was to you as he flipped through papers and typed furiously on his laptop. The glow from the screen outlined his profile, making the dark circles under his eyes even more prominent.

“Jun-ho,” you called softly, hoping to break through the barrier he’d built around himself.

“What?” he muttered without turning around.

You sighed, stepping closer. “Can we talk? Please?”

“Not now,” he said flatly.

That was the last straw. Weeks of neglect and coldness boiled to the surface, and you couldn’t hold it back anymore. There was no way you’d continue to let shit slide.

“No, Jun-ho. Not later, not when you’re done, not tomorrow. Now,” you snapped, your voice shaking with frustration.

His hands froze on the keyboard, and he finally turned to look at you. “I said I’m busy, can’t you see that?”

“Busy? You’ve been busy for weeks! What about me, Jun-ho? What about us?” you shot back, tears threatening to spill. “You barely talk to me, you barely look at me, do you even care anymore?”

He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. “Of course I care! But I’m trying to do something important here. Do you think this is easy for me? Trying to find the truth about that damned island while keeping myself alive?”

“And what about me? I’m here, alive, and you’re pushing me away!” Your voice cracked as the words poured out. “I know this is important to you, but you’ve made me feel like I don’t matter. Like I’m just—here. Waiting for scraps of your attention.”

Jun-ho’s jaw clenched. He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration bubbling over. “You don’t understand! This isn’t about you, it’s bigger than you, bigger than us! People have died, and if I don’t—”

“I get that!” you yelled, cutting him off. “But do you even realize how much you’re losing in the process? You’re not just fighting for justice, Jun-ho, you’re throwing away everything else, us included!”

His next words came out sharper than he intended. “Maybe I don’t have time to be what you need right now! Is that what you want to hear?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Your face fell, and the sight hit him like a punch to the gut. He had crossed a line.

Your voice was small when you spoke again. “Y-you don’t mean that.”

His chest tightened as he saw the tears streaming down your face. He immediately stepped closer, his tone softening. “No, no, I don’t. I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself. “Do you even want me here, Jun-ho? Because if you don’t, just say that.”

His hands reached for yours, and this time, you didn’t pull away. “Don’t say that,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “Of course I want you here. I just—I’m scared. Scared that I’ll fail. That I’ll lose everything, including you.”

“You don’t have to do this alone,” you said, your voice steadier now. “I’m here for you, but I can’t keep feeling like I’m invisible.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, over and over, as if it could undo the weeks of pain he’d caused. “You’re right. I’ve been shutting you out, and that’s not fair to you. I’ll do better. I promise.”

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped in his warmth, feeling the walls between you crumble.

Later, when you were both lying in bed after Jun-ho had dropped everything to spend time with you, he kissed you softly, his touch filled with the tenderness you had missed. “I don’t deserve someone like you,” he murmured.

“Don’t say that,” you replied, running your fingers through his dark hair. “You need to remember that I’m here for you, always.”

“Thank you for not giving up on me,” he said quietly.

The tension between you and Jun-ho had been simmering for weeks, unspoken feelings and bottled up frustrations pressing against the walls of your shared space. But now, as his lips moved against yours in a kiss that was equal parts apology and longing, everything else seemed to fade away.

You straddled his lap, your hands threading through his hair as the kiss deepened. His fingers gripped your waist, steadying you as you pressed yourself closer, feeling the hardness beneath you. You pulled back slightly, your breath hitching as you met his gaze.

“Jun-ho,” you whispered, sliding your hands down to the hem of your top. Slowly, you pulled it over your head, revealing your bare chest.

His eyes were lust filled as they roamed over you, his lips parting slightly. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his hands running up your sides. “I can’t believe I’ve gone this long without touching you.”

“It’s been weeks,” you replied, your voice tinged with need.

“I know,” he said in a regretful tone. “I don’t know how I lasted this long.”

Your hands trailed down to the waistband of his pants, your touch light and teasing. “I need you,” you said, your voice low.

Something in him snapped. In a swift motion, he flipped you onto your back, his body pressing against yours as his lips found your neck. He kissed a wet trail down your collarbone, each touch slow, as if he were trying to make up for lost time.

He paused at your waist, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your skirt and panties. He glanced up at you, his eyes searching yours. “Do you want this?” he asked.

“Yes,” you breathed. “It’s been too long.”

That was all he needed to hear. He slid your bottoms down and off and his hands settled on your thighs, spreading them slightly as he lowered himself.

“You’re perfect, baby,” he said softly, his lips brushing against your inner thigh. “And I’m going to make sure you know that.”

He kissed your clit, his tongue and lips moving with precision and need. Each flick of his tongue sent shivers through your body, your hands tangling in his hair as your back arched off the bed. He was practically devouring you, relishing in the moment that had been building up.

“You taste so good,” he murmured, his breath warm against your pussy.

You couldn’t hold back the moans escaping your lips, your body trembling as he sucked on your clit like he had a point to prove. His hands gripped your thighs firmly, keeping you grounded even as you felt like you were unraveling.

“Baby,” you gasped, your fingers tugging gently at his hair.

He looked up at you briefly, his lips glistening, a small, satisfied smirk on his face. “That’s it, love. Cum for me.”

And when you finally did, shaking and breathless, he didn’t stop until you were completely spent, your body melting into the mattress. He kissed his way back up your body, his lips lingering on your skin before he met your gaze again.

“Missed this,” he whispered, brushing a strand of your curls from your face.

“Me too,” you replied, your voice still unsteady.

In that moment, it was just you and him—no islands, no missions, no distance. Just the love that had always been there, waiting to be rediscovered.

Jun-ho's lips lingered on your skin, trailing from your jaw to your collarbone before moving lower, his kisses growing hungrier by the second. His hands roamed your body, desperate, like he was making up for every moment he had kept himself from you.

As his mouth closed over your tits, sucking gently, his fingers worked at the waistband of his own pants, sliding them off in one swift motion. He pressed against your thigh, his hardness obvious. He pulled back slightly, his breathing ragged as he cupped your cheek, searching your gaze.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked softly. “We don’t have to. We can just cuddle. I’ll wait if you need me to.”

You reached up, holding his jaw firmly but gently, making sure he looked directly at you. “Jun-ho,” you said, your voice low, “I’ve been deprived for weeks. Fuck me like you mean it.”

His eyes darkened, his control snapping in an instant. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed this,” he growled before capturing your lips in a deep kiss.

He moved with a new intensity, his hands gripping your hips as he aligned his hard cock with your entrance.Slowly, he pressed forward, his forehead dropping to yours as he let out a low moan. “You feel incredible. So wet for me,” he murmured.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he started to move, his thrusts rough but full of love. “God, you’re everything I need,” he breathed, his hands running over your sides, gripping your waist like he was afraid to let you go.

“You’re amazing,” you gasped, your back arching into him. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.”

“I know,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been so caught up, but you—God, you’re all I need.”

His pace quickened, his strokes growing more desperate as your moans filled the room. “You’re everything to me,” he said, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’ll never make you feel like you’re not enough again. I swear.”

The two of you moved together, your bodies perfectly in sync as you met his thrusts with grinding, the friction making your clit throb. The tension between you built until it became unbearable. “Cum for me,” he whispered. “Let me feel you soak my cock.”

You shattered beneath him, his name tumbling from your lips as he followed soon after, his entire body trembling as he held you close. He stayed buried in you for a moment, his forehead pressed to yours as you both caught your breath.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured again, kissing your temple. “You deserve better from me, and I’ll do better. I promise.”

“Thank you,” you replied softly, your fingers brushing through his hair.

He carefully pulled out of you and reached for the blanket, wrapping it around both of you as he pulled you into his chest. His hand rubbing your back, his touch soothing.

“I love you,” he said quietly.

“I love you too,” you whispered, nuzzling into him.

As you drifted off in his arms, you felt his words and the way he held you like you were his entire world, a silent promise that he wouldn’t take you for granted again.

And for the first time in weeks, you felt like you had him back—the Jun-ho who loved you with everything he had.

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kiwriteswords · 2 months ago

Note

not a smut fic! (unless you want, but i was thinking more emphasis on the emotional rather than the physical) but maybe like

request for hotch x reader who has had past bad sex experiences in relationships? like maybe it hurt or her previous partner didn't care about her pleasure/comfort? so when she finally has her first time with hotch, she's out of her depth because she's used to being the 'giving' partner but getting nothing in return whereas now she's being treated well and she feels almost guilty because she feels like he's focusing too much on her (even if thats not true).

Untangling the Past

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader||Word Count: 3k

Tags/Warnings: intimate scenes, fade-to-black smut, sexual themes, reader with past intimacy issues, soft!Hotch

Sypnosis: Aaron Hotchner never imagined how deeply you would reshape his world, how your quiet strength and guarded heart would challenge his understanding of love. As he unravels the layers of your past, mending the wounds left by neglect, he offers you the safety of his steady care. Together, you navigate a delicate dance of trust and tenderness, building something unbreakable, one vulnerable moment at a time.

Aaron Hotchner had never considered himself particularly adept at navigating the intricacies of new relationships. He was a man of structure and logic—a sharp mind honed to profile criminals and anticipate the unpredictable. But when it came to you, his structured world softened.

The first time he realized you were different wasn’t in the heat of a high-stakes case or during one of the late-night debriefs that bled into the early morning. It was in the quiet moments—a shared coffee break, an unguarded laugh. It was in the way you looked at him, equal parts guarded and curious.

When you started seeing each other, Aaron approached it with a mix of careful deliberation and unshakable determination. He knew the risks of two people in the BAU becoming involved, but he also knew that what he felt for you wasn’t something he could easily set aside. You, with your quick wit and quiet strength, had carved a space in his life that he hadn’t realized he needed filled.

The first time you were intimate, Aaron noticed your hesitation immediately. He wasn’t profiling you, not consciously, but years of observation had made him attuned to subtle shifts in body language and tone. You were nervous, but it was more than that. When he kissed you, your hands clung to him as if you were afraid to ask for more. When he touched you, there was a tension in your body that told him this wasn’t just first-time nerves.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. His hand rested lightly on your hip, his thumb brushing small, soothing circles against your skin.

You nodded quickly, your voice a little too bright as you said, "Yeah, I’m fine."

He didn’t press, not yet. Instead, he kissed you again, slower this time, giving you space to respond. Aaron was a patient man. He’d waited years to let himself feel this way again, and he could wait as long as you needed.

But as the night went on, he couldn’t ignore the way you seemed, almost uncertain about the attention he gave you. You’d shiver under his touch, your breath catching in ways that sent heat pooling in his chest, but there was also a restraint, as though you didn’t quite know what to do with the care he offered so freely.

When he finally asked again, his voice was steady and low. "Talk to me. If something doesn’t feel right, I need to know."

You hesitated, your gaze flicking away before finding him again. "It’s not that. It’s just… I’m not used to this."

"This?" he prompted gently.

"Being treated like… like I’m the one who matters," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "My past relationships weren’t… great. Sex wasn’t always…great. Scary even."

Aaron felt a flash of anger at the thought of anyone treating you with anything less than the respect and care you deserved, but he quickly pushed it aside. This moment wasn’t about them; it was about you. "I’m sorry you went through that," he said, his thumb brushing along your jaw. "But this is about us. And I want you to feel safe and comfortable. If that means taking things slower or stopping altogether, just say the word."

You shook your head. "It’s not that I don’t want this. I do. It’s just… hard to wrap my head around."

"Then let me help you," Aaron said, his voice unwavering. "You’re allowed to want this, to enjoy this. You don’t have to earn it or prove anything to me."

Your eyes glistened with unshed tears, and Aaron’s heart ached at the vulnerability you were showing him. He kissed your forehead, letting the moment stretch until you exhaled a shaky breath.

"Okay," you murmured. "But you’ll have to be patient with me."

Aaron smiled softly. "Patience is something I’m good at."

As the days turned into weeks, Aaron made it his quiet mission to help you unlearn the harmful lessons your past relationships had taught you. He paid attention, learning the ways your body responded to his touch, the subtle shifts in your breathing that signaled when you were truly at ease. He noticed the way you hesitated to ask for what you wanted, so he started asking instead, his voice always steady and unassuming.

"Does this feel good?" he’d ask, his lips brushing against your ear.

When you nodded, he’d press further, "Tell me what you need."

At first, you were hesitant; your answers were clipped and uncertain. But over time, you began to trust that his questions weren’t loaded, that he truly wanted to know. And when you finally started voicing your desires, the shy, breathy way you asked made Aaron’s chest swell with a mixture of pride and tenderness.

One night, as you lay tangled together, your head resting on his chest, you spoke up unexpectedly. "You make it hard not to feel guilty."

Aaron’s brow furrowed, his fingers pausing their gentle strokes along your back. "Guilty?"

"For taking so much," you said quietly. "I’m not used to someone… caring this much."

He shifted, tilting your chin so you’d look at him. "You’re not taking anything, and you have nothing to feel guilty about. You give more than you realize."

When you didn’t look convinced, he added, "I’m not just here to give to you; I’m here because I want to share something with you. And that means letting me take care of you when you need it."

Your eyes searched his, and Aaron held your gaze, hoping you could see the sincerity in his words. After a moment, you nodded, your expression softening. "I’ll try to remember that."

Aaron kissed you then, slow and deliberate, a silent promise that he’d be here for as long as you needed him. In that moment, he realized that intimacy wasn’t just about physical closeness; it was about building something stronger, something that could withstand the weight of past hurts and insecurities. And with you, he was ready to build it—one step, one moment, one breath at a time.

Over the next few weeks, Aaron continued to watch and learn, careful not to push but always ready to meet you where you were. One night, after an especially long day at work, you’d curled into his side on the couch. His hand rested on your knee, tracing lazy circles over the fabric of your leggings. You were quiet, your fingers absently playing with the edge of his shirt.

“You’re always so… thoughtful,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the soft hum of the television.

Aaron glanced down at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “Shouldn’t I be?”

You hesitated, biting your lip as you avoided his gaze. “It’s just… new for me. I don’t know how to… reciprocate.”

He reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “You don’t have to do anything differently. Pleasing you, making you feel cared for—that’s what makes me happy. Seeing you relax, knowing you feel safe with me, that’s everything I could want.”

Your eyes darted to his, a flicker of disbelief mingling with the gratitude he saw there. “But it feels like I’m taking too much. Like I’m being selfish.”

Aaron shook his head gently. “You’re not being selfish. You’re learning to accept what you’ve always deserved. And if it makes you feel better, you’ve already given me more than you know.”

You tilted your head slightly, a small frown tugging at your lips. “How?”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before speaking. “By letting me in. By trusting me. That’s more than enough.”

The way your expression softened told Aaron you were starting to believe him, even if it would take time for you to fully embrace it. He’d wait as long as you needed because seeing you begin to let go of the walls you’d built was a privilege he didn’t take lightly.

“I’ll try,” you said finally, your voice steady but quiet. “But it’s going to take time.”

Aaron smiled, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’ve got all the time in the world.”

The next time you were together, Aaron could tell something was on your mind. He noticed it in the way your hands lingered on his chest, the way your gaze flickered to his before darting away. You wanted something, but you wouldn’t ask for it. The realization hit him with a pang of sadness—whatever your past had been; it had taught you that your wants didn’t matter, or worse, that they would be met with rejection.

He reached up, brushing his thumb along your cheek to catch your attention. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice steady and calming. “You’re holding something back. What is it?”

Your lips parted, but no words came at first. You looked down, your hands fidgeting, and then let out a small, shaky breath. “It’s stupid,” you murmured. “I don’t even know how to bring it up.”

“It’s not stupid,” Aaron said firmly, his thumb now tracing slow, reassuring circles on the back of your hand. “Whatever it is, I want to hear it. You don’t have to filter anything with me.”

You hesitated, biting your bottom lip. “I’m… scared you won’t like it,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “Or that you’ll think it’s… weird. Or judge me for asking.”

The vulnerability in your voice hit Aaron like a punch to the gut. He let the words sink in, his chest tightening at the thought of anyone making you feel ashamed for voicing your needs. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to your forehead before speaking, his voice low and sincere. “There are very few things I can think of that I wouldn’t want to do—if it’s with you.”

You looked up at him, your eyes widening slightly, and Aaron saw the flicker of disbelief in your expression. He smiled softly, his gaze steady and unwavering. “I mean that. Whatever you’re worried about, whatever you want to try, I’ll listen. You can trust me to meet you there, no matter what it is.”

Your lips quirked into the faintest smile, though uncertainty still lingered in your eyes. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is,” he said gently. “Because I care about you. Making you happy, seeing you comfortable—that’s what matters to me. Not some arbitrary line or rule. Just us.”

Your voice wavered when you finally replied. “I’ve never had that before. Someone who just… wants me to feel good.”

Aaron’s hand slid to cup your cheek, tilting your face so you couldn’t look away. “Then let me be that for you,” he said, his tone quiet but firm. “There’s no rush, no pressure. If you’re not ready to share, that’s okay. But when you are, I’ll be here. And I promise, there’s nothing you could say that would make me think less of you.”

The raw sincerity in his voice seemed to ease the tension in your shoulders. You took a shaky breath and nodded, your fingers squeezing his hand. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try.”

Aaron kissed you softly, his touch lingering as he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. “That’s all I ask,” he said. “We’ll take this one step at a time.”

____________

Aaron wasn’t sure what he expected, but the way you seemed to glow after sharing and having it met was enough to make him forget any preconceptions. The two of you were still tangled in each other, the room quiet except for your soft breathing. You looked peaceful, content, your head resting on his chest as his fingers drew idle patterns along your back. He’d seen you like this only a handful of times—truly at ease—and it struck him how rare and precious these moments were.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. His voice was calm, but there was an undertone of something deeper. “You seemed… happy.”

You laughed quietly against his chest, your breath warm against his skin. “I am,” you admitted, your tone carrying a note of surprise, as if even you weren’t used to the idea. “I’m glad I said something.”

Aaron smiled faintly, his hand pausing for a moment before resuming its gentle movements. “I’m glad you did too,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “I’m always trying to figure you out, but sometimes, you’re an enigma.”

You shifted slightly, looking up at him with an expression caught somewhere between curiosity and caution. “An enigma?”

“Not in a bad way,” he clarified quickly. “You’re just… hard to read sometimes. I usually pride myself on understanding people, but with you, I feel like I’m always learning.”

You were quiet for a moment, your fingers tracing a faint line along his ribs. “That’s not a bad thing, is it?” you asked, your voice soft but steady.

“Not at all,” Aaron said, his tone resolute. “I like learning about you. But I want to understand why you hold back so much. Not just with this, but in general.”

You stiffened slightly, and Aaron immediately regretted pushing. He shifted, tilting your chin up so he could meet your eyes. “I don’t mean to pry,” he said gently. “If you’re not ready to talk about it, that’s okay.”

“No, it’s not that,” you said quickly, your voice trembling slightly. “I just… I don’t know how to explain it.”

Aaron waited patiently, his gaze steady and unjudging. He could see the wheels turning in your head, the way your fingers gripped the edge of the sheet as if grounding yourself. Finally, you exhaled, a long and shaky breath.

“My past relationships weren’t exactly… kind,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. “Sex was always about them. What they wanted, what they liked. It didn’t matter if it hurt or if I wasn’t comfortable. It was just… something to get through.”

Aaron’s chest tightened as he listened, a mix of anger and sadness washing over him. He didn’t interrupt, letting you speak at your own pace.

“I think I just stopped expecting it to be anything else,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly. “And when it wasn’t… good, I blamed myself. Like maybe I wasn’t good enough, or I wasn’t doing something right. It just… made me feel so exposed, and not in a good way.”

Aaron’s hand stilled on your back, his grip firm but gentle as he pulled you closer. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “You didn’t deserve that.”

You shrugged lightly, your gaze fixed on the pattern of the sheets. “I guess I just got used to it.”

He tilted your chin up again, his dark eyes boring into yours. “That’s not something you should have to get used to,” he said firmly. “You deserve to be cared for, to feel safe. And if there’s anything I can do to help you feel that way, you just have to tell me.”

You nodded slowly, your lips pressing into a faint, shaky smile. “You already are,” you whispered. “I wouldn’t have shared anything if I didn’t feel safe with you.”

Aaron’s heart swelled at your words, but he could still see the weight of your past lingering in your expression. “You don’t have to carry all of that by yourself anymore,” he said softly. “I’m here, for all of it. For you.”

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers curling into his chest as you rested your head back against him. “It’s just going to take time,” you murmured.

“I have all the time in the world,” he replied, his voice steady and reassuring. “And as long as you let me, I’ll keep showing you that it doesn’t have to be like it was before.”

You didn’t say anything, but the way you clung to him spoke volumes. Aaron held you close, his hand resuming its gentle path along your back, silently vowing to keep learning, to keep showing you that intimacy could be a place of comfort and joy, not pain and fear. And in that quiet moment, he felt something shift—a sense of trust growing between you, fragile but unbreakable.

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cressidagrey · 2 months ago

Text

Holy Ground - Chapter 5

Summary:

Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?), Chronic Injury/Pain/Illness, Minor Character Death (It's probably nobody you love), Magical Work Accidents, Explosions, Injuries

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

“You want to talk about it?” Her mate asked her flatly and Mor couldn’t help but grimace.

"No," Mor said simply, her tone clipped. She had been hoping to avoid this conversation, but it seemed as though Emerie was not willing to let her off that easily. "There's nothing to talk about."

Her mate just snorted. “Yeah, absolutely nothing,” she said sarcastically. “How about the fact that the male that spend 500 years being in love with you, met his mate 2 years ago and hasn’t said a single thing about it to any member of his family?”

"What do you want me to say, Em?" she asked with a sigh.

At the start…before Nesta had forced her to actually confront what she was feeling…Before she actually thought about the fact, that no…it wasn’t actually funny for Azriel to keep their mate from them…and it also wasn’t normal for him. Of course, Azriel liked his privacy, it was something that he fiercely guarded, but he was also…he wouldn’t have actually hidden away his mate from his family. He would have introduced her, would have invited her to birthdays and Winter Solstice and Starfall…

But he hadn’t.

He had rather hidden away every trace of that relationship than actually talk to any of them about it.

“Nesta told me that she laid into you,” Emerie said with a shrug. “You did use Azriel, you know that, Mor.”

Mor's expression hardened at Emerie's words.

Emerie was right. She had used him.

Of course, at the time…she had been desperate, afraid of the feelings that she had been having…willing to hide them… but the way she had gone about it hadn’t been…It hadn’t been fair.

She just didn’t like to reflect on that.

"It doesn't matter now, Em," she said flatly. "It's in the past."

“Is it?” Emerie asked, sharply. “You never tried to actually talk to Azriel about it. You just expected him to be alright with it. Alright with us,” she continued. “He has never once been anything but polite to me, but quite frankly he would have had every right to be pissed off.”

Mor just so managed not to grimace.

Not a single word. Not a single gesture. Nothing but politeness and kindness had come from Azriel after her and Emerie’s mating bond had snapped. Nothing.

"You don't think I know that? You don't think I'm racked with guilt every damn day?" she asked her mate, turning away from from Emerie, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "I know that I hurt him, Em. I know that I used him. But what do you want me to do about it now? It's in the past, it's done. I can't change it."

Emerie was silent for a moment, her expression softening slightly. "You can apologize," she said softly. "You can try to mend what you broke. And maybe, just maybe, he'll forgive you."

Mor let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "Apologize? For what?" she asked, her voice dripping with self-mockery. "For using him? For making him think he had a chance with me when he never did? For breaking his heart when I knew damn well how he felt about me?"

Emerie's expression hardened again. "Yes," she said firmly. "For all of those things. Because at the end of the day, Mor, you used him. And he deserves better than that."

Mor's shoulders slumped, the fight leaving her all at once. She knew that Emerie was right. She knew that she had been selfish, that she had hurt Azriel in a way that could never be undone. But the thought of facing him, of admitting her mistakes and opening herself up to the pain and rejection that surely awaited her…it was terrifying.

“I imagine he had a few very good reasons to keep Irena a secret from all of us,” Emerie said softly. “Regardless of what feelings he once harboured for you…he was always your friend, Mor. And he kept his mate a secret from you.”

Mor sighed, her shoulders slumped. "I know," she said softly. "I know. I thought it was jsut Az being Az but it’s not, is it?”

Emerie reached out, placing a gentle hand on Mor's arm. "No," she said softly. "It's not. It's him protecting something that he loves. And I don't blame him for that."

***

“Are you hungry?” Azriel asked his mate softly.

Madja had checked on her the evening before…had told her to keep off her leg for a few days and plied her with more potions, bandages the bruises again… given her more sleeping draught. It hasn’t stopped Irena from waking up twice with nightmares.

"No," Irena said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't have much of an appetite." She looked pale, her eyes dull and lacking their usual sparkle. It was clear that she hadn't slept well, and his heart ached at the sight of her discomfort.

Shock had dissipated and left his mate…grieving and sad and Azriel curled himself tighter around her.

He could feel the weight of her sadness and grief, and it broke his heart to see her this way. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, holding her close and hoping to offer some comfort and support.

“You need to eat something, love,” he insisted softly. “Whatever you want.”

He really didn’t care if all she had in her stomach were her favourite cookies, at least that would be something.

Irena shook her head, burying her face in his chest. "I don't want anything," she said, her voice muffled against his shirt. "Just...just stay here with me."

Azriel's heart tugged at her words, and he pulled her even closer, cradling her against him. "Of course," he whispered, his lips brushing the top of her head. "I'm not going anywhere, love,” he promised her fiercely. “But you still need to eat something,” he whispered. “How about the shadows get you one of those blueberry pastries you like?”

Irena sighed, snuggling deeper into his embrace. "Alright," she said softly. "I do love those pastries." She looked up at him, her eyes still dull but a small hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

He didn’t even need to order the shadows to do anything, they had one of her favourite blueberry pastries on a plate on the bed side table in a breath. *Please tell me you left the money,* he told them mentally.

The shadows seemed almost indignant. *Of course we left it. Do you think we're thieves?* Azriel smiled at their tone."

"Of course not," he said aloud, reaching for the pastry and offering it to Irena. "You're just very efficient." The shadows swirled around him almost smugly at the praise, and he shook his head with a chuckle.

“Thank you,” Irena thanked them softly. The shadows preened.

Azriel chuckled again, watching as the shadows swirled around Irena, as if basking in her gratitude. It was cute how they seemed almost puppy-like in their desire for her attention.

He was amazed, as always, by how much the shadows adored her.

He had never expected them to warm up to anyone else, especially not as quickly as they had to his mate.

Suddenly…as soon as he had properly introduced his shadows to her…as soon as it was clear that she wasn’t going to start flinching away from them or from him if they showed up to badger her…as soon as that was clear, they had started to dote on her. Seemingly so pleased that there was another person that wasn’t scared off them.

The shadows and Irena had formed a bond that defied explanation, and it made Azriel so happy to see the two things he cherished most in the world getting along so well.

(Even if he sometimes got jealous that the shadows never had doted on him like they did on Irena. He got porridge for breakfast but Irena got the ridiculous expensive pastries from the newest high end bakery. Irena got bubble bath, while he only got salt dumped into his bath water and got told that it was good for his muscles.)

He watched as the shadows swirled around Irena, nuzzling against her like cats seeking affection. Irena laughed softly as they tickled at her ears and played with her hair.

He knew that his shadows were often feared and misunderstood, but with Irena they were playful and affectionate. It was like she had unlocked a whole new side of them, and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of them interacting so sweetly with her.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "I never thought I'd see the day when my shadows would be so smitten," he teased, his lips curving into a small smile. "I should be jealous, but I can't help but find it adorable."

Irena laughed, her eyes sparkling for the first time that day. "They're so sweet," she said, reaching up to brush her fingers through the shadows that surrounded her. "It's like they're a different side of you."

Azriel chuckled, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "I guess they are a part of me, in a way," he said. "And they seem to have a mind of their own, especially when it comes to you." He watched as the shadows nuzzled against her cheek, almost vying for her attention.

"They're quite taken with you," he said with a grin. "I don't blame them. Still, it's strange to see them so affectionate towards someone else." He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

"But it makes me happy to see them like this," he said softly, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "It's like you're bringing out a side of them that I never knew existed. And it's a beautiful thing to witness." He leaned in, pressing another soft kiss to her forehead. "Just like you."

There was a knock at the door.

*The High Lord and the Ancient One,* the shadows offered. *And the healer.*

*I’ll deal with them,* Azriel said with a snort.

“Finish your breakfast, alright?“ he told Irena softly as he slid out of the bed. Irena nodded, a small smile on her face.

"Thank you," she said softly, watching as he got up to answer the door.

“Madja,” he greeted the healer drily. “Irena just had breakfast. The bruises are already lightening,” he reported.

Madja nodded, her expression softening slightly. "Good," she said. "Keep an eye on her for the next couple of days, make sure she takes it easy. The leg needs to heal properly." He opened the door further, letting Madja slip in, and could just hear, "How are you feeling, my dear?" From Madja and Irena’s soft answer.

Which meant that Azriel turned towards his brother. “What do you want?” He demanded from Rhys, his voice sharp.

Rhys held his hands up in surrender. "Calm down, Az," he said, his voice low. "I just wanted to check on Irena. Amren looked at the spellbook that Merrill was using,” Rhys explained.

“And?” Azriel asked flatly.

Did it actually matter? Merrill had been stupid and arrogant and a thousand other things. The spell didn’t seem to have done anything to Irena…her injuries had been thanks to the debris that had resulted in the spell going absolutely haywire, killing Merrill and seemingly exploding her office.

“It was written in a language I do not know, but the best match is ancient Illyrian,” Amren gave back drily.

Azriel's expression darkened at Amren's words. "Ancient Illyrian?" he repeated, his mind racing. "That can't be good."

Not at all. He didn’t even want to think about what his ancestors had come up with.

"It seems to be a very old dialect," Rhys explained. "One that hasn't been spoken or written in centuries. It'll take some time to decipher it, but we're working on…”

“It seems to be a healing spell. Probably used in childbirth,” Amren cut him off. “When it didn’t find a pregnant female to latch onto, it redoubled back onto Merrill.”

"So Merrill's own spell backfired on her," Azriel mused. "And Irena got caught in the crossfire." He rubbed a hand over his face. “Has the spell done anything to Irena?” He demanded.

“Madja didn’t think so,” Rhys said carefully. “I wanted to check on Irena if that’s alright with you.”

He crossed his arms, not willing to entertain that even for a moment.

“No,” he said flatly.

“Let him in, Azriel,” his mate said softly, and he turned towards her, staring at Irena.

The shadows were already dragging a fur around her shoulders, fluffing the pillows behind her, as Madja bandaged her leg.

Irena met his gaze, raising an eyebrow at him.

He didn’t want Rhys anywhere near her, Azriel was certain of that. And still…an still…

“Fine,” Azriel growled, stepping aside to let Rhys through. "Don't overstay your welcome," he warned Rhys.

Rhys nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips at Azriel's protectiveness. He clapped a hand on Azriel's shoulder reassuringly. "I won't stay long," he reassured his brother. "I just want to make sure she's alright."

Amren rolled her eyes, but for once didn’t say another word as Azriel closed the door.

“High Lord,” Irena greeted Rhys, every inch the perfect lady even while she was laid up in her bed.

Rhys inclined his head, smiling gently at Irena, while Azriel already crossed the room to sit at her bedside, taking her hand in both of his. She reassuringly squeezed it.

"How are you feeling?" Rhys asked her.

Irena gave him a small smile, shrugging her shoulders a little. "I've been better," she admitted. "But I'm healing, I suppose." She gestured to the leg, Madja was bandaging once again. "Madja says I'll be good as new in a few days. And I’ve had worse,” she added flatly.

Rhys chuckled softly, his eyes softening with concern. "I don't doubt it," he said. "But still, it must have been quite a harrowing experience." He paused for a moment, looking at her intently. "I wanted to speak to you about what happened," he said gently. "If you feel up to it, of course."

Irena nodded, steeling herself for whatever questions Rhys might have. "Go ahead," she said quietly.

"I just wanted to ask you about what you saw when the spell hit you," Rhys said carefully. "Do you remember anything after the initial blast? Could you show me?”

“No.” Azriel snapped. “You are not going read her mind, Rhysand.” Not in a million years.

He nearly bared his teeth at his High Lord in annoyance, already regretting letting him into their room.

Irena was healing.

Rhys held up his hands in surrender, his eyes flickering to Azriel for a moment. "I wasn't going to do anything without her permission, brother," he assured him calmly.

“It’s alright,” Irena agreed with him. “It’s fine, Azriel,” she assured him softly. Azriel tensed for a moment, torn between wanting to protect her and respecting her wishes. "I want to do this." She turned her attention back to Rhys. "Go ahead."

Rhys nodded, his expression serious. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low. "It might be difficult to recall the memories, but I need you to try."

Irena just inclined her head. "I'm sure," she said firmly. "Just...just go ahead."

Azriel watched, holding her hand tightly. Rhys was well trained at using his daemati abilities, but that didn’t mean that…

A moment later a soft shudder run through his mate, and Azriel growled.

“Thank you, Irena,” Rhys said quickly, clearly already withdrawing from her mind.

“What kind of spell was it?” Itena asked her voice hoarse.

Rhys sighed, "The spellbook was written in some kin of ancient language, we think some dialect of Illyrian. The spell itself was healing spell, probably used for childbirth," he explained. "The magic was searching for a pregnant female to latch onto, but when it couldn’t find one, it became more volatile," he said, his expression grave. "And that's when it found you, Irena. It was a complete accident, but the effects were still devastating."

“Did it do…anything to me?” Irena asked Madja quietly.

Madja looked up from the bandages she was applying to Irena's leg, her expression softening as she took in Irena's worried expression.

Madja studied her for a moment, her eyes flickering over the various scrapes and bruises on Irena's body. "Not as far as I can tell,” Madja said finally. "You're healing nicely, and there are no lasting effects to your body that I can see.”

It was something. It was reassuring to know that her physical injuries were being healed, and that there were no lasting effects.

Azriel squeezed Irena's hand, relief flooding through him at Madja's words.

It was good. Some form of healing being found…

And the last thing Azriel had expected, where Irena’s next words, as she addressed Rhysand.

“I’ll hand over my duties to Madja, as soon as I can,” Irena said softly. “I am aware that after what happened I am no longer suitable to make any more research involved decisions. I take full responsibility for what happened.“

Her voice was even, measured. Calm.

Even when he could see the storm in her eyes…even when he could see…

She loved her job. He knew that she loved her job. She adored it in fact. And she excelled in it too. Irena seeme to be made for her job in the House of Wind. And to hear her contemplating giving it all up, just because of an accident that hadn’t been her fault at all…

Azriel opened his mouth to protest but Rhys spoke before he could say anything. "That won't be necessary," Rhys said firmly. "Irena, what happened was a complete accident. You had no control over what happened, and we all know that." He shook his head, his expression serious. "You can't blame yourself for what happened."

Rhys leaned forward slightly, his gaze intent on Irena. "If anyone is to blame, it's Merrill," he said softly. "She was the one who was messing with magic beyond her understanding, she didn’t follow your orders and she was the one who unleashed that spell. You were just an innocent bystander in all of this."

He paused, looking between Azriel and Irena, his expression softening. "We will need to take precautions going forward, so nothing like that can ever happen again." he said carefully. "But we can figure that out together. And you do not need to give up your duties, Irena. We need you."

Irena looked down at the blankets in her lap, her fingers fiddling with a loose thread. "But what if something like this does happen again?" she asked softly.

Rhys shook his head, his expression firm. "It won't," he said, his voice filled with conviction. “None of what happened was your fault,” Rhys repeated firmly.

Azriel nodded in agreement, his grip on Irena's hand tightening. "He's right," he said gruffly. "You didn't do anything wrong. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, love. This is on Merrill, not on you. "

“And you can’t quit because otherwise we’ll all drown under paperwork. Well, more than we already do,” Rhys said with a sigh.

Irena chuckled softly, a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "Well, I suppose I can't let that happen," she said wryly. "I can’t let the high Lord deal with even more paperwork, can I?“ she said drily.

Rhys moved to stand but then he suddenly froze. “You have been doing this on purpose,” he suddenly said, staring at her.

“Doing what?” Irena asked, cocking the head to the side. “Make sure that the library generates plenty of paperwork that needs the High Lord’s personal attention?”Rhys stared at her for a moment, his expression a mixture of surprise and awe.

"You really are quite devious, aren’t you?" he said with a small laugh. "I never would have thought you’d be using your job specifically to ensure that I spend even more time doing paperwork."

“I don’t.” Irena said flatly. “It was petty revenge.”

Rhys chuckled, shaking his head. "Petty revenge?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow. "What on earth did I do to deserve such punishment?"

Irena just stared at him for a moment. “Maybe you should think a bout how you have been treating my mate.”

What?

Azriel had had no clue that…

Azriel hadn’t known about that. Hadn’t had the faintest inkling.

Irena had been making sure that Rhys had more paperwork to go through?!

Rhys looked at him for a moment before sighing, rubbing a hand over his face. "I suppose I deserved that one," he admitted.

Azriel just grunted, his expression flat. "You deserved a lot more than that," he muttered. But there was no real anger in his voice. He was too tired for anger at Rhys. All he cared about right now was Irena.

“You really are a perfect match,” Rhys said with some amusement. “And I do owe Azriel an apology,” he said simply. "I’ve been harsh on you, Azriel. And I haven’t been fair. I’ve been treating you like a tool, instead of like a brother, and I owe you an apology for that.”

Azriel was taken aback by Rhys's words. He had grown used to the way Rhys treated him - as a weapon first, and a brother second. Hearing Rhys acknowledge his mistakes was…certainly unexpected, and it left him feeling a little off-balance.

He paused for a moment, his mind racing as he tried to figure out how to respond. Finally he looked up at Rhys, his expression serious. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I appreciate the apology."

Rhys nodded, his expression sincere. "I mean it," he said quietly. "I'll do better moving forward."

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #Holy Ground

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joonsytip · 1 year ago

Text

Withering for You || Seungcheol - Epilogue

Pairings: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, CEO! Seungcheol au, Husband! Seungcheol au, Wife! Reader au, Music Teacher! Reader au, Arranged Marriage au, College Sweetheart au, Exes to Lovers au

Synopsis: When you are arranged married to the man, whose heart you had broken years ago, even dreaming about mending things seems next to impossible when he has been holding grudge for all these only to return it to you tenfold.

Warnings (specific to this part): tears, profanities, everyone is hurt and sad, mention of alcohol consumption, lovesickness, healing, friendly threats, suggestive

Word Count: 5.7k

Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

You're enjoying the peace and calmness that moving to a different country has brought within. It has been half a year since your divorce with Seungcheol had been settled, been four months of you making a decision seemingly best for you by moving out.

Both you and Seungkwan had wanted to open several branches of your academy all around the world because you both believed that music transcends barriers and connects souls.

Though your motive while shifting was a break from everything but it also resoluted to build another branch rooted to Melodease.

You are busy nowadays, given you've to overlook the purchase and legal matters, start taking care of the design, contract and staffing. Seungkwan has offered to come over and share the workload but you're always the one to brush it off. Because keeping yourself busy is the only way to not overthink about that one person whom you wanted to spend the rest of life but apparently it was too much of an ask.

The divorce, you had tried everything to withdraw it but you should have known, it was Seungcheol who wanted for it to happen at any cost. So eventually you succumbed to his stubbornness. He wasn't even willing to face you, making it impossible for you to reach out to him so you couldn't quite recollect when was the last time you saw him. All you could remember is he never again made an eye contact with you, since he left your house that fateful night.

A rift has been created between you and your friends. You were so mad at all of them for making Seungcheol aware of the bitter past that you've been hiding. They got earfuls from you whenever they breathed in your direction. You had stopped humouring them, even going as far as to inform them about your departure just two days before. A huge fuss was caused by Mingyu and Eunsoo while Seungkwan and Wonwoo blamed themselves quietly.

When Wonwoo had arrived at your doorstep the night before your departure to apologise and ask you to reconsider your decision, you in turn had assigned him a task which you couldn't do yourself.

Your parents visit you from time to time and it's your brother who crashes at your place the most because though everyone hesitates, he's the only one who doesn't lend an ear to your protests.

"It's been half a year, don't you think you should let loose and forgive those four.", Chan voices out distressed as he once again sees the string of texts and voice messages he received in the group chat he was suddenly added to one day just so your friends could get updates of you.

"You don't understand Chan. It was not their decision to make. You don't think I could have told Seungcheol if I wanted to?", you sit down frowning, "We did end up getting divorced after all. And even though I'd have dealt with my career, I don't know how he is doing on his own because now he would neither even confide in his family and nor he has many friends. It has become a fight against his family, against the people he cherished the most."

Chan understands your friends but most importantly he understands you, he nods and sighs, "There's something I haven't told you."

"Did Seungcheol come and apologize to you, mom and dad after I left?", you say giving a small smile.

Chan is flabbergasted, "How did you know?"

"I just guessed. I knew he'd come someday, it's only after I left. Wish I could have just gotten a glimpse of him before coming here. Why do I miss him?", you say suddenly fanning your face and look up trying to blink away the tears. Chan observes you silently.

Your heart still beats for Seungcheol.

Seungcheol rubs the wedding band which sits on his finger, lost in thoughts he then proceeds to caress the other wedding band the one he wears in a chain, which is also yours.

In the last few months, he solely focused on destroying Jiah. He went on to dig her past and accumulate every malicious deed, hurtful comments or poor gestures done by her throughout her life including all her flings. If it would have been earlier he would have had a hard time believing it all but not anymore. After gathering every possible bit, he made his PR team to work overtime to destroy her image. Each day new articles would resurface by random journalists on several platforms.

"I'm sorry, Cheol", Jiah cries at his feet, hands clasped, begging, "Please please just stop, I'm ruined."

Seungcheol laughs completely apathetic, "This has just begun. I'll bring you on the streets. I make you cry tears of blood."

Jiah looks him at horrified, "I'm begging you, we are best friends Cheol--"

Seungcheol burns at her words, "Since you showed me how best of a friend you are, it's my turn to show how great I can be. I won't stop until you dread hearing my name, until you regret what you've done. Hell, you've just heard of it, I'll make you live in it."

"I'll do anything you want, I'll apologise to Y/N please spare me.", Jiah continues to beg.

"Don't you dare utter her name with your filthy mouth. For the tears you made her cry, I'll make you cry tenfold. If you think there's gonna be an end to it, no, you'd suffer till your consciousness stays with you."

Then he makes the security drag her out of the building, onto the road.

Using her now completely ruined image, he pulled all cards to ruin off her father's company. Though he felt bad for her parents but they should have raised their daughter well and since they didn't it fell on their plate as well. That's what he had said to her father when he had the business go bankrupt.

Seungcheol doesn't stop here, he's still finding ways to put Jiah behind the bars, and if concrete proof doesn't knock on his door, he has his mind set on creating a whole new room of miseries for his said best friend.

But nothing he does gives him a sense of fulfillment. He's empty, heartbroken and a looser in love. Every time he remembers the way he had treated you, the schemes he had plotted against you, the venomous words he had said to you and the hatred he harboured towards you, they make him wanna disappear from the face of earth.

His parents don't get to see him, there's no monthly family dinner at the Choi's anymore.

Seungcheol who wanted to have you as his in all of the lifetimes, doesn't dare to make such a wish anymore. He has failed you, so he accepts the fact that you deserve the best. Someone who's not him. Someone who gives you all the smiles and none of the tears.

The wedding gown which you left untouched in his closet when you had moved out, Seungcheol walks in every night just to hold the garment. He imagines you in it and hugs it to his chest pouring his heart out. Each night the empty house echoes his cries. The composition you had gifted him on his birthday, he plays it everyday while reminiscing the times he has got to spend with you.

His heart only beats for you.

"You are in love with your ex husband who's in love with you as well? I still don't get why you both are divorced."

You roll your eyes and walk past Jihoon who doesn't bother to follow behind because you'd be able to hear him anyways.

"Make it make sense, from what I heard...", his brows quirk up and nods at himself, "The bigshot Choi Seungcheol is being unnecessarily dramatic when you both can now live happily ever after."

You throw him a glare, "Don't you dare call him dramatic. He's in a rough spot and going through hell. But since he's stubborn and won't listen to anyone, we'll both keep wallowing in pity."

Jihoon gives you a look, "At least you're sensible. Anyways, you'd always see a DND board on my cabin's door. So please don't hesitate to get lost and not show your face to me."

You're neither surprised nor disappointed.

Lee Jihoon is a prodigal producer who's renowned around the world for his compositions. He can play every instrument in and out (claimed by people) specialising in Violin. You and Seungkwan had been eyeing him since long for managing your academy and it took you a lot of effort and determination to be able to rope him in. The man is always snappy and unfiltered. He knows he ain't people pleaser thus, he likes his space and doesn't allow interference. You just have to trust and leave the rest up to him and it'll be all taken care of.

Surprisingly, he knew you as well and though he would never admit, you're guessing the only reason he agreed to manage the new branch because as an artist he felt violated with your supposed plagiarism case. That he empathizes with you.

You don't usually go around sharing your personal life with everyone but with Jihoon it came in candid. Gradually, he came to know about you and you about him. The man is a feline who can differentiate good from bad. So after pulling many late nights and over many drinks, you both have become comfortable with each other. So comfortable that he treats you as his errand woman and every time you dare to protest he threatens to breach the contract because as he brags he has money. That annoying mf--

Jihoon knows he shouldn't be nosy but also he couldn't turn a blind eye to how you cry every time you get wasted. How whenever you bring up your husband there's an abyss of longing in your eyes. Though you're diligent and pushing yourself hard, your mind always reels back to him.

"It's your birthday next week, what do you want?", Jihoon asks and tuts instantly, "Except for Seungcheol, I can't give you him."

"Nothing.", you state blatantly, "Just stay with the academy."

"Nevermind, trying to give you Seungcheol sounds easier.", Jihoon jokes and the cushion he receives on his face isn't uncalled for.

Nobody is as distressed as Mingyu. He hasn't seen you in months, you don't talk to him like before. He feels guilty. He shouldn't have involved himself in your matters when he knew why you tried so hard to cover the truth. He regrets urging Eunsoo to confess to Wonwoo because even though she presses that she's fine and masters at hiding her feelings whenever in the same room as Wonwoo, he knows she isn't exactly doing well. It's been quite a time and neither you nor Eunsoo are doing well. Not like Wonwoo or Seungcheol are doing any better.

So he thinks it's only the doable, he needs to take the matters into his hands, if not alone atleast with Chan and Seungkwan. It might try to fix things one last time, with no expectations, no agendas of his own.

When Chan asked Mingyu to accompany him somewhere, he found it odd but agreed nonetheless.

His face changes when he finds himself infront of Seungcheol's house.

"If you see any tendencies of violence in my speech or body language just hold me back. I don't wanna beat Seungcheol but actually I do wanna beat him.", Chan says as they enter the house.

Mingyu is already breaking in cold sweat and the only accountable relief is Wonwoo's presence. When they see Seungcheol, both Chan and Mingyu are shocked at his state. He looks sick and tired.

"Are you okay?", Mingyu asks and Seungcheol nods. That's when his eyes falls behind and he sees the large wedding picture frame hung on the wall. His eyes linger further and he sees how on every wall there are pictures of you, or you and him.

Chan witnesses that Seungcheol's doing as bad as you, maybe worse. Seungcheol has not been able to meet his eyes since he knew about the past like now, his eyes are down in shame.

"Look at me", Chan says calmly, "You don't have to be ashamed of something you have never taken part in."

"But my father did.", Seungcheol whispers, "I can't forgive myself about how I treated you all and her when all you did was protect me."

"You are not doing fine neither she is.", Mingyu adds, "What's the point of seperation when you both love each other?"

"She cries everyday because of you. Regrets wanting to be selfish and marry you because you're suffering. She blames herself for everything to the point that she isolated herself from her family, friends and her academy. She's alone off to a faraway place where if an emergency occurs the fastest we can get to her would be after a 10 hour journey.", Chan doesn't usually breaks but his voice cracks, "It's so hard to see her being hard on herself. The breakup in the past must have been hard on you, but for her it was worst. I shouldn't be disclosing this but it took her a lot of therapy sessions to get out of depression. It was arduous for all of us because as you know she's the life of our family, the academy and her friends circle."

Seungcheol listens to your brother wide, teary eyed. He feels as if he's in a whirlwind.

"When I don't have any grudge against you, Y/N wants to be with you the why are you making all of our lives miserable?", Chan speaks with frustration, "You still have chamce to make things right. Don't choose to be a victim to the circumstances once again and let the love of your life go. You both have defied the odds and been together so why complicate things when there could be happily ever after waiting for you both."

"Do I deserve--"

Seungcheol haults in track, scared when he sees Mingyu seething and fisting his hands.

"Stop being a crybaby and own up. You caused a lot of damage to Y/N and you should make it up to her.", Mingyu says through his gritted teeth, "Stop trying to run away. That woman has been suffering for years just because of your family and you. She's a saint for being so understanding and patient, always putting everyone above herself. Though she'd never admit, we all know that she went away just not to be a bother for anyone, specially you. I'll beat you to a pulp if you suck up one more time. Fucking coward!"

Tables turned, now it's Chan and Wonwoo who are holding Mingyu back because Mingyu himself has the patience of Saint so when he gets worked up, things get out of control.

In the midst of all this, Mingyu throws a glare at Wonwoo as well and that's when the later unhands him and steps back.

"Do you lack common sense? What's the point of hanging her pictures and playing her compositions when after all this, she's waiting with her hands open but you won't go.", Mingyu keeps on scolding, "Why do we have to come and speak sense into your mind when you're an adult with much developed brain, developed enough to plot things to ruin someone's career?"

Six pairs of wide eyes falls on Mingyu. Seungcheol thinks hell has come in form of the buff guy infront of him. Chan thinks it's so cool of the same buff guy. Wonwoo thinks in near future he'll be facing the same fate as Seungcheol's facing today.

When Chan and Mingyu leave, Wonwoo stays behind. He quietly places a box on the table.

Before Seungcheol could enquire, he answers, "Y/N had requested me to give you this box on her birthday. Though I don't know what it contains but I do have a feeling that there won't be any more appropriate time to hand this over. I should have given it to you earlier."

After Wonwoo leaves, Seungcheol exhales sharply as his hands gently caress the box and carefully opens it.

There's a letter that sits atop. He opens the thread tied around it and starts reading.

Hey Cherry,

I couldn't help but call you that, sorry if it made you uncomfortable. If you're reading this, then it's probably my birthday today. I'll make my birthday wishes later but here's a return gift for you. This box is an ode to you, to commemorate your love because enough we didn't get our happy ending, I could live the rest of my life reminiscing the moments we spent, the love we shared together.

Now let me show you what our love meant through my eyes. There should be a sweater inside the box, take that out.

Seungcheol immediately takes out the red crochet sweater and traces over the garment and the wordings on it. He then goes back reading the letter.

Remember when we were dating, I had grown an interest on crocheting and took classes. I had woven this sweater for you. It says "Mon Amour", which means my love in French another outcome of the music lessons I was taking from the French teacher. Never got a chance to give you this and now that you've grown big muscles, it won't fit you. You can give it or throw it.

Now you'd see a pile of vinyls. Since you've always encouraged me to pursue my passion, you became the source of my inspiration. There are 26 vinyls and each of those compositions were inspired by you. Some were composed when we were dating, some after our breakup, throughout the span of seven years and some while we were still married. I thought of returning these to their owner in true sense. These came straight out of my vault. You can keep them or burn all of them.

Seungcheol takes out the vinyls and rearranges all of them in the order of the dates written on them. He notices each Vinyl cover had a colour of it's own and each one was addressed to his name in your handwriting.

You've always loved Tulips. Remember each time I bought you those, how you'd end up getting sad because they'd wilt? So I gathered every colour I could and preserved it for you. There's a flap in which I've kept the Tulips. Don't get sad anymore, they'll stay with you now.

The rest are random things I had brought on whim either because I thought you'd like them or it reminded me of you and they may not make any sense to you.

Seungcheol notices the spilled ink in many places, blurring the words, as the letter reaches it's end because of the tears those fell down while you wrote the letter.

Nostalgic isn't it? So now that we're closing in, I'd like to say a few things to you. I don't blame you for happened in the past, nor does my family. As things turned out, we didn't end up together. But I don't want you to become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere. Let's not be that (only if you're comfortable enough to acknowledge me if we ever cross paths again).

As I said, even though it's my birthday I'll make a wish for you, make sure to fulfil it. Not request but it's a demand from your ex-wife. I wish you would move on from all the sufferings and pain. You should move on from me, from us. I wish for you to fall in love again with someone who'd keep you happy and bring back the liveliness in you. I admit it would hurt me, a lot but it'd mean nothing if you'd be well.

Never hesitate to come and find me, even if it's just for a brief moment. I'm always available for you. Also, just to remind you, don't you feel lonely, remember my friends are yours as well. Do disturb them at your will, most they'll do is throw tantrums but they're nice I promise. I love you, will always do. But you, move on okay? So that's all I guess. Sorry took too much of your time. Take care of yourself.

From,

Your Cherry (for one last time, promise)

Seungcheol is bawling his eyes out, screaming in pain as he reads your letter again and again, occasionally holding it close to his chest.

There's only one question that reels in his mind. How could you love him so selflessly?

You didn't expect much on your birthday but with all your friends and family travelling hours long, jamming up your place just to celebrate your day, it feels nice.

"Jihoon arranged the cake, but since Y/N wanted the party to be held in here he cancelled the venue.", Seungkwan states as a matter of fact, "Thank God, he's here otherwise my lifeline would have receded to half worrying about her."

All of your friends look at you happily chatting with your parents.

"Thanks Jihoon.", Eunsoo expresses her sincere gratitude, "I'm so relieved that she has you. She still hasn't forgiven us and knowing how private she tends to be, it's nice that she at least has you."

"We all feel the same.", Wonwoo assures and Eunsoo side eyes him as she shifts further away from him, changing seats.

Jihoon smiles genuinely, "Y/N is a great person to have around you so gradually you'd be willing to reciprocate the efforts."

"Good things, happen to good people but why is she suffering?", Mingyu sighs, chugging the can of bear, "She says she's mad at me, but she bought me my favourite limited edition watch when I was still recovering from the ligament injury."

"Yeah same, she checks on me throughout the day and night whenever I am going through a rough patch.", Eunsoo adds, "Even asked me to come and stay with her to take my mind off", she looks at Wonwoo, "things."

"Yeah, we may not always talk like we did before but she still cares the same.", Seungkwan says, "It's her nature, she can't do anything about it."

"Something good should happen to her soon.", Jihoon implies as he twirls the can in his hands.

The night goes on with you spending time with your dearest ones and catching up with everyone.

"Thanks for coming everyone.", you say making a toast, "I haven't felt this good lately. Y'all made my day really special."

At some point it's a mess, you're chasing Mingyu, who's screaming for his life because he smashed a big chunk of cake on your face. Eunsoo is eating off Jihoon's ears because she wants to hear him play Violin. Wonwoo doesn't like it a bit but there's nothing he can do apart from glaring at Jihoon. Seungkwan and Chan are debating over something useless, everyone is sure that next they're gonna fight each other to impose their point. Your parents look at all of you with a fond smile on their faces.

It's an hour till midnight when everyone decides to leave for the hotel they've been staying in. Though your friends and brother offer you help but you send them all away knowing they're still tired from such long journey.

You clean up the place and check the time before jogging down to throw the Dustin bags. All you could think of was if Seungcheol had read your letter. Doesn't matter if not today, as long as he reads it, any day is fine.

It's chilly outside as the full moon shines brightly. You stand outside not entering the gate and close your eyes to feel the breeze. It's calming, you think.

When you open your eyes after staying out for good amount of time, you think you had drunk a little too much.

"I shouldn't have drunk so much, now I'm seeing you.", you shake your head, slap your cheeks and look ahead again, "Why are you still here? Just vanish.', then you turn back to go inside the house.

"Y/N..."

You halt and say, "Now I'm hearing things also, great."

Suddenly you're being back hugged, "You're not hallucinating.", that's when you freeze, realisation gnawing on you.

Seungcheol has really come, he's physically present.

"W-What are you doing here?", you asked in your choked voice.

"I think we should have this conversation inside, only if you'll allow me to.", Seungcheol says and loosens his grip.

"Y-Yeah sure.", you don't look back, at him and walk straight into the house with him following you.

As Seungcheol takes a seat, you kick away the balloons, "Sorry, it's a mess right now.", and you flee to the kitchen to bring some slices of cake, "Have them, it's your favourite flavour."

"Happy Birthday, Y/N", he wishes you, taking the plate and you smile at him fondly.

"Have you eaten dinner?", you ask him and he shakes his head, "Came here straight from the airport."

While he eats the cake, you serve him all the dishes saying, "You should have told me that you'd come. I would have waited and we could have had the dinner together."

Seungcheol looks at you, wordless. So do you, observe him, the black hair that falls on his forehead, thick eyebrows, his brown orbs, dimpled cheeks, the small nose and stubbled chin, all of it. There's a soothing silence and you don't wanna break it.

"Y/N, there's a reason to why I came today."

You are calm, willing to listen to anything he has to offer because nothing worse can happen than what has already happened.

"I am not well without you.", he gives a small smile not meeting your gaze, "People are saying I look like a ghost nowadays, you can see it as well.", there's a pause before he looks at you and continues, "Your friends and brother have been trying hard to speak some senses into my mind. And I received the box you left for me, last week."

"But you were supposed to receive it today", you say calmly, "If my friends and family are pestering you, I'm sorry. I'd tell them to stop."

Seungcheol chuckles, shaking his head. He grabs both of your hands, "The problem isn't about me being unwell without you. The problem lies with you being more heartbroken and pained without me. You have suffered enough, you shouldn't be suffering anymore."

His hands trail gently upto your face, "And I'm here today to solve that."

You habitually lean into his touch, "Don't say something that would break my heart again, on my birthday."

"I know even without trying or repenting if I ask you to take me back, you'd do it in a heartbeat.", tears prick at his eyes as he speaks, "And now that there're no more secrets, though it's selfish of me but I want us to be together again, to live and to love forever. I want to love you right, treat you like you deserve to be treated."

You break down in tears, hiding your face in your palms, sobbing as you say, "This feels unreal. What if I'm dreaming and you'd be gone when I wake up?"

Seungcheol sniffles as he hugs you tightly, "I'm here, love. I won't go anywhere, I promise."

You snuggle closer to him, he embraces you tighter.

There are few taps on your back and you pull back only to Seungcheol making you stand up. You eyes questions him as he pecks your forehead quickly and kneels on his left knee.

Your eyes go wide as saucers as you watch him unfasten his chain and take out the ring, which you recognise is yours. He holds the ring saying, "I want to spend all of my tomorrows with you because you taught me the real meaning of love. Would you please with cherries on top, marry me?"

Not trusting your voice and with a frantic nod of head, you extend your hand towards him, onto which Seungcheol slides in the ring. You put the other ring on his finger and pull him into a fervent kiss.

Before he could take you to the bed and have you, you're pushing him away, "You haven't eaten, dinner first."

Seungcheol groans, his lips finding it's way back on your neck as he whispers, "I wanna eat you out. You're my meal, you're my dessert to devour."

You give up knowing, he's not going to listen because he's stripping you down to nothing, kissing and sucking everywhere.

"I love you, love you so much.", he keeps on murmuring, "You're mine, only mine."

Carrying you inside, he slams the bedroom door shut. All you could remember is his name and the way he worked on your whole body diligently through the night, till the morning.

"I wanna meet Lee Jihoon.", Seungcheol says during lunch, because that's when you both finally left the bed after long long sessions of love making.

But he makes you sit on his lap, "Because along with the plane ticket that I found on my office table, he had sent a card with the instructions to give it to you."

He takes out the card from his coat which was hung on the chair and gives it to you.

'Here's your birthday gift, Y/N. Told ya, giving you Seungcheol would be much easier.'

You are grinning ear to ear, "Definitely, he seems snappy but is actually quite a nice guy."

Seungcheol gulps when he remembers the other note which contained nothing but the pure threat of kidnapping, smuggling and dumping him to your house if he doesn't come here voluntarily, "Y-Yeah sure, he must be a nice guy..."

The nation is in uproar because it was such a sight to see Choi Seungcheol carrying his ex-wife in bridal style, smooching her throughout, in front of the media, till they're seen out of the airport.

Another shock comes from the musical prodigy, Lee Jihoon who returns to his roots posing as a bodyguard to the couple.

The media doesn't get to rest when a month later, both the Choi's and Lee's publish articles about your wedding to Seungcheol along with some glamourous shots from the private wedding that took place with limited guests consisting mostly closed friends and family.

Some are confused, some are shocked but more or less everyone is curious. No matter how hard the paparazzi are trying they're unable to pull tabs on what actually happened. You both are the trending topic and though all tabloids are based on pure speculations, it also shows the upper hand The Choi's have on protecting their matters.

"I have the sent the data as an anonymous to the police.", Wonwoo informs, "I'm sure it'll be concrete enough to put Jiah behind the bars."

"Great.", Seungcheol smiles, "Keep on digging, make sure once she's in, she never gets out of the prison."

Wonwoo gives a nod and leaves.

"Are you sure he like Eunsoo back?", Seungcheol turns to ask you.

"You should notice how stone cold poker faced Wonwoo starts to show emotions whenever he sees Eunsoo with Jihoon. I have caught him stealing glances at our Soo as well.", you sigh, "I know it must be hard for him, but I wish he could just be honest with his feelings."

"I'll talk to him", Seungcheol assures and as if a switch flips he pouts saying, "Why'd you have to go? We just got married."

"I'll have to look over the academy until it's fully functional.", you tell him, "Jihoon can take over after that but till then I'll have keep going back and forth. But hey, I'll be here for a month before I go, let's utilize it to the fullest."

"Of course, baby. Don't worry I'll manage my schedule so that I can be there with you for most of the time.", he pecks your lips, "I'm so proud of you. I love you."

"Love you too, Cherry.", you smile looking at him.

"Let's plan for our honeymoon--"

"Cheol, I was thinking that...", your lips purse into a line, "instead of touring, can we spend some time alone without work, just the two of us, somewhere cozy. Only if you're okay with it, I know you're busy and to take time completely off--"

You're cut off by his lips on yours. He kisses you for a good amount of time and says, "If you want it then I'll manage. Anything for you baby."

You smile pushing him away, "You're down bad.", ypj tease, "I'll have to drop by the academy, Seungkwan is waiting."

"I'll take you.", Seungcheol gets up grabbing the car keys, "I'm sure everyone is there specially Jihoon, I'm a fan."

You roll your eyes, "Yeah everyone is saying so but he's a plain pain in ass to me. Let's take Wonwoo with us.", grabbing your clutch, "I'm planning to visit Wonseok, let's go together this weekend. Also, I've informed Ms. Oh that we'd be eating out tonight."

As Seungcheol drives, your mind reels back to everything that happened over the month. Your husband proposing to you, you coming back and accepting things with his parents as they offer their earnest apologies. Though Seungcheol is still not on talking terms with them and you're yet to entirely let go of what they've done, you think time will mend the relationships.

Getting married again but this time just out of pure love. Discussions about having family, bearing his children in future comes often and you don't miss the gleam in your husband's eyes when you both talk over it casually nowadays, him always assuring that he's ready whenever you're ready. Your friends now becoming more of Seungcheol's group as they pick each other's habit and throw unfiltered banter, Jihoon included.

If years of suffering have led you to witness these days then you're content because it's all worth it.

Even though Seungcheol is engaged in a conversation with the group, he sweeps a quick glance at you, smiling fondly and mouthing a 'I Love you' before diving back just to sulk at something Mingyu claimed.

You say those words right back to him in your heart, a thousand times more as you make a wish you have him as yours in all lifetimes.

To be fully seen by somebody and be loved anyhow is a human offering that can border on miraculous. Having withered for each other and falling back in love, lucky you both to be spending the rest of your lives together.

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