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chuluoyi · 4 months

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UNHOLY MATRIMONY — 11

✩°｡ ⋆ transcendent truth

- fushiguro megumi x oc/reader - oc/reader's character name is hara sena, pronouns still refer to “you” and i won’t mention it often—just for the sake of aesthetic rather than repeatedly writing "y/n"

in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, Fushiguro Megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you.

genre/warnings: arranged marriage au, drama, heavy angst, zen'in naoya <- hard warning! character death, mentions and descriptions of blood and major injury, profanities, violence, read with discretion!

notes: sorry for the long wait! :( i was on leave, work stuff were piling up, got sidetracked by gojo, and living my life and i have a lot to write for this so... oh and does naoya get to live, you ask? well, well... you may see his fate in this chapter :))

✩°｡ ⋆ unholy matrimony (masterlist) | chapter ten : a death wish <- previous ✩ next -> chapter twelve : the most twisted curse

A week ago October 26

"My father has died."

You gazed in sheer horror at Maki's words, as she stood at your doorstep. Everything in your mind blanked out as you struggled to grasp the meaning behind her jarring words.

You could only utter an almost inaudible "Huh?"

Yet Zen'in Maki didn't seem like a daughter mourning the loss of her father. She looked like she had just won a war with how she stood tall, all with her scars and burns. And yet―

"Oh, and my sister too," she quickly added, looking away, and you could finally see the trace of grief in her voice. "Naoya has destroyed everything."

Somehow it was still hard for you to imagine that the whole Zen'in clan was now in tatters. You blinked, stuttering. "He did? How did he―"

Maki told you everything. It had started from a heated argument instigated by Naoya to demand his claim, but since Ogi wouldn't entertain him, things escalated into a gruesome fight that ended with his head rolling off.

Over the span of one night, he massacred several other clansmen, along with Maki's sister, Mai. Now, the Zen'in clan was without a head and forced into submission by him.

"Sena, I'm telling you this because he'll go after Fushiguro next," Maki's voice was firm and unwavering, and it made you almost recoil. "Having my father gone isn't so bad―I have had enough of him, but Naoya is still on his delusional rampage."

"Megumi won't come back to that place," you firmly stated. "Naoya can have it all by this point, why is he still looking for him?"

"He's now beyond reason. He will seek him out himself if he doesn't come."

After Maki left you with that warning, you were still reeling. This was such an abrupt change of situation, and you knew you had expected facing Naoya in the end, but you thought you'd have more time to think.

Now one thing was clear: Megumi was in danger. A grave one.

October 28

Days with Megumi felt like light rain shower to Hana.

Domestic and cozy. She knew she was here just to cure his sister, yet the friendship that had blossomed between them felt just right.

"Please look after Tsumiki for me," Megumi said plainly, getting ready to leave the hospital. "I'm heading out for a mission."

She gave him a heartfelt smile. "Oh yes, as always, of course."

"Thank you."

Watching him go past the door, Hana smiled until the door sealed shut. Then she turned to the sleeping Tsumiki. She looked as peaceful as always, and the curse mark on her forehead had started to unravel too. Good, she did a great job then. It was taking a while, but Tsumiki was slowly and surely on the path of recovery.

It caused her spirits to deflate a bit, knowing that after this arrangement, she would have to part ways with Megumi, as there were no ties binding them together.

It was times like this that she envied you.

Tidying the hospital room and changing the wilted flowers with fresh ones, Hana easily considered this her comfort space. Everything was curated to how she liked it. She thought she would be having a slow day today, until a frenzied knock on the door startled her.

She couldn't fathom who the visitor could be until she warily opened the door and saw you.

. . .

You had anticipated Megumi to be the one opening the door, until it wasn't.

"Can I help you?" the girl in front of you asked hesitantly, seemingly puzzled. Your breath caught, as you realized that this was most likely Kurusu Hana the curse breaker―also the witness to your divorce.

"Is Megumi here?" you asked calmly, trying to even your heartbeats. No. You couldn't be petty against this woman. Your business was with Megumi, you couldn't get her in the crossfire―

But all that thoughts flew over your head when she retorted, "Why are you trying to find him?"

"I have to talk to him," you responded, still trying to be calm. Okay, no, she couldn't possibly be anything more than divorce witness. Megumi wasn't the type to―

Once again, your thoughts blanked when she replied, "He's out. Maybe I can leave your message to me and I'll inform him later?"

Something about her tone didn't sit that well with you. It was as if she was trying to show you that she was the one in charge... of what, exactly?

You had come to inform Megumi about Naoya's doing. It was as simple as that. Even though you knew that he most probably wouldn't give two shits regarding Zen'in anymore, you just had to make sure.

But seeing another woman in the doorstep, knowing that he spent most of his time with her now that you weren't around... yeah, you couldn't deny that it hurt you.

"Then, please give him this."

You handed the brown envelop to Hana with your jaw held high. Maybe Megumi was right after all, you had a talent to become an actress as your voice didn't even waver. "I've signed the divorce papers. Please let him know to proceed as he sees fit."

Hana appeared taken aback, evident from her widened eyes, but you continued. "Oh, and I've moved out of the apartment too. He can come back. Please tell him that I'm also grateful that he let me stay for this long."

"That's―"

"And one last thing... This is important, and please don't forget to tell him this."

You stared at Kurusu Hana squarely in the eyes, not even flinching as she blinked at you in total silence. "Don't let him come to Zen'in compound on October 31."

She frowned. "What do you mean? October 31? What's happening―"

"That's not for you to know," you interjected with precision, steel in your voice. "Just don’t let him go there, please."

Hana remained silent for a few moments before asking, "Are you... really going through with the divorce?"

"I don't appreciate you delving into our affairs," you spat in response. By now, you truly struggled to contain your own emotions—the hurt, the realization, the mere fact that she was here at all. "Just tell him what I just told you. You're an outsider. And since you've volunteered to inform him when he gets back later, then just do it."

And Hana seemed a bit offended by your snappy tone, but she chose to keep her mouth shut.

You bowed your head a little. "Well, then. Thank you. Have a good day."

As you spun around and stomped away from Tsumiki's room, that was when you finally let your facade crack. Biting your lower lip in frustration, your eyes watered once again.

How could he... get so cozy with her not long after you, just like that? Hana was talking as if she owned the place. It irked you, but above all, you felt so hurt that you wondered if what you were doing now was worth it at all.

But yes. You reassured yourself of the fact, because even if you weren't doing this for Megumi, then you definitely were still doing this for your own sake.

Zen'in Naoya was on your hitlist, and you were determined to see it through, even if it was the last thing you'd do.

When Megumi got back to the hospital later that afternoon, he had noticed how strange Hana was.

"Did something happen?" he inquired with a frown.

"Oh, no... not really," she winced, seemingly uncomfortable with the question, but she quickly covered her strange expression with a smile. "Anyway, how was your mission?"

If he were to be honest, he would prefer if Hana didn't get too friendly with him, despite everything. Maybe it was his quiet nature, or whatever, but he liked to be left alone.

"It went alright."

It was when he glanced at the table that he noticed it. The divorce papers he had left in your desk at the headquarters were there, and his initial reaction was the sinking feeling in his heart.

"Why are these here?" he snapped almost instantly, asking Hana for clarification. "Has Sena come here?"

"Oh? Oh, yeah..." it was evident that she was flustered, but she quickly blinked her surprise away. "She dropped by to give these for you."

"Did she say anything else?"

"Oh yeah... she said... she has moved out of the apartment."

That, he didn't expect. You had moved out? Where? Where did you go?

It had been two weeks since he last saw you, and the feeling of betrayal was still there, gnawing at his soul. And yet, to see you really agreeing with the divorce he pulled out of impulse and and moving out of his place made it all feel undeniably real.

Deep in his hearts, he knew that he had been bantering back-and-forth with himself. Heck, ever since that horrid reveal about this marriage, he felt like he lost a sense of himself. He shouldn't, but it was hard not to.

He was about to return to his place―with futile hope to find you, perhaps, when his phone rang in his pocket. Yuji was calling him.

"Hello, Itadori? Uh, yeah... sure..."

He was called back to the headquarters for a follow-up mission. Megumi mildly cursed under his breath after ending the call.

"Are you going again?" Hana questioned in a hurry, and it made him turn to her.

"Yeah, I must go―"

"Whatever you do, don't get near Zen'in's family home."

He raised an eyebrow at her sudden statement. "Why?"

She stuttered. "Just... don't. I've heard... there are just some things happening there. It'd do you better to stay away from them."

When Megumi reflected on this moment a few days later, he would realize that her behavior had been quite strange. However, in the heat of the moment, he didn't dwell on it much as his main focus shifted to his sudden mission.

October 31

His mission had taken him three days to sort out, with him and Itadori staking out at the site, and by the time he was finished, Megumi was at his wits end.

He was exhausted and only just now was he able to really go back to his apartment the first time ever since he left you here.

His place was so empty it felt jarring. The fact that the two of you used to live here not too long ago was bittersweet, especially when he saw the little pots of cactus he planted across the living room had all withered.

Megumi entered almost reluctantly, as with each step, the sting of pain in his chest intensified. He really did love you. And more often than not he found himself thinking why everything had to go this way.

Everything was left neat and tidy. You must have cleaned the place before you left. Megumi traversed through the living and dining areas before finding himself in what was initially his bedroom—the one you both had shared for the past two months.

No creases on the bedsheet, no more of your clothes hanging or cosmetics on the table. What remained was… a folded paper?

He had never jerked so fast in his life—he immediately unfolded it and could barely read.

Dear Megumi, How are you? Are you doing well?Ah, you must be still mad at me. I can’t really fault you for that though. If I were you, I wouldn’t take being played by someone who claims to love you lightly too. I know how you feel, or at least, tried to . . .

Was this the right thing? Despite making this decision yourself, you couldn’t lie and say that you were wholeheartedly sure.

“Hara Sena— do you really wish to die?!”

All you know was blind rage when you saw Zen’in Naoya’s face.

He cackled, almost wheezing, while mocking you entirely. Your anger simmered, steadily rising, reaching a boiling point with certainty and intensity.

“Ah, this is too funny!” he wiped a tear out of his eyes, his cackles receded into huffs of barks. “Who are you to think that you can stand a chance against me? Me?”

You didn’t entertain his question. “How can you be so shameless about everything you have done?”

He burst into unhinged laughter once again.

“What’s there to shame? I can say that I’m proud while at it—”

"You murdered your own kin!" you cut, looking at him almost in disbelief, clenching your fists to keep them from trembling. "And yet... you stand there so proud. It's delusional."

"What I did―heh, I'd even go as far as saying that it's my greatest achievement yet. It’s beyond your comprehension, sadly.” Naoya threw his hands and sneered. “I wouldn't expect bastards like you or Fushiguro to understand.”

You scoffed. Talking to a wall never works, huh.

"What is sad is that you would go this far for... what? A clan of ruins?” you taunted, a derisive smile on your face. “Who is even left here? This is no achievement. You're just crazy.”

For a second, you could see that that smug grin falter, twitched even, before he hardened it with a manic grin.

“Say that again, woman—”

“You can pretend all you want, and glorify your delusional self while at it, but it won't matter.” You didn’t flinch, despite how intense the pounding of your heart was. “Today, you will lose, Zen'in Naoya.”

And that sealed your fate. Today is the day it ends.

I tried to, but I’m also hurt, you know?

Megumi sprinted, bolting out of his apartment with pure terror. He had to, for the chance to find you was slipping with each second. After reading that letter, he realized just how messed up everything was.

I have thought many, many times about when you were going to find out the truth. I know the worst is that you wouldn’t believe me, but I really thought we could part in better terms than this.

What you did hurt him too, that’s true, and it was hard for him to forgive you. He couldn't ignore that reality.

Because I trusted you. I trusted you wholeheartedly when you said that you would stay with me. I thought that, maybe, even if we can no longer be together, at the very least you wouldn’t just go and leave me with a little to say for myself. Because that’s what I’d do if our positions were reversed.

But you trusted him. Until the end, until the moment you decided to sign the papers and moved out.

Something within him plummeted and shattered. He had really lost sight of the bigger things. Halfway through, he naively thought it had ended with him going away.

No, it hasn’t ended. He had overlooked one monumental aspect.

But I’m not you. And ultimately, I’m still in the wrong, and it’s hard to explain myself because I know it. No matter how much I try to justify myself, it’s still not enough. Because when I first started out, it was indeed my intention to use you.

Now, it didn’t matter that much. Not when he realized what you were about to do.

But, Megumi, there’s one truth in our relationship—even when there are many lies in it. That truth transcends all, and it’s this: I love you. I really do. Even now as I’m writing this, I still do.

Each breath he took, it scorched his lungs. Megumi thought he had known what heartbreak was like. But no, he didn’t really. Not until now.

In the short time we were together, I was the happiest. I love living with you. I love going through the day with you. Thank you for letting me know what love feels like.

Damn it. If something were to happen to you now, after this—

And I wish you the best. It hurts me to know, but if it's Kurusu Hana, then I only hope that this time, it's your own choice. This might be the last you're going to hear from me. I'm going to settle my debt with Zen'in Naoya. If you ever read this... one thing I ask from you is that don't find me. Let this be where it ends. With me.

"Idiot, you're an idiot!" he harshly grunted under his breath. How was it that you had asked him not to find you when he knew what you were doing?

Now it all made sense. October 31. The duel. Zen'in family home. Hana's warning. You were the one who told her that.

His chest constricted, the muscles in his legs had started to ache, and he was losing breath. But he pressed on. Megumi had to get to you, before it was too late.

Your innate technique wasn't made for front lines.

Despite your father's pride―which you had long considered misplaced―your family's innate technique, in your and Naoya's eyes, were quite unhelpful, or useless even.

You couldn't even feel your lower body as you laid there on the hard ground, gurgling and tasting your own blood in your mouth.

"Now you see?" Naoya curled his lip in satisfaction, looking down on you with that disdainful eyes of his, once again believing he was far superior than you. "You have no chance against me, Sena. If Fushiguro can't, what makes you think you might have a shot, huh?"

True, he didn't even have a single scratch in his body. You stood no chance against him. Did you know that?

As a matter of fact, you did.

"What a pitiful sight you are," he uttered, firmly planting his feet on your chest, and a broken whimper escaped you. "Just die already."

When will this end? You had to wait out, or else— or else, you were doing all of this for nothing.

"This is the exact expression that whore you call a mother had too," Naoya suddenly retorted, prompting you to open your eyes in response.

Your mother. In her last moments, was she in this much pain too, because of him?

The thought made your rage boil once again. You gritted your teeth together. "You... b-bastard—!"

"Hah? What?" He dug his heels in your broken ribs and you whimpered, spitting out blood.

You didn't know how much longer you were going to be able to withstand this pain. Everything in your body was broken at this point. You are quite literally dying.

You thought you had accepted this. You figured that since you had nothing left, dying wouldn't be that bad, surely.

"Hmph, boring." Suddenly he kicked you and you rolled several ways from him, wincing in absolute agony. Naoya turned his back on you, walking away with deliberate loud steps.

He gestured at the cloth of his hakama. "You're going to dirty my clothes. Since you're going to die anyway, I'll be here to watch you."

Mad. Truly mad. You couldn't think of any other word aside of that to describe the Zen'in spawn. He was the craziest of all people you had ever met, had ever imagined you could encounter in this shitty life.

"I'm curious though, why are you here? Fushiguro would never ask you." Naoya regarded your form with narrowed eyes. "Is this love? Are you afraid that he'd die by my hand that you willingly went in his stead?"

"N-no..." you immediately replied in disdain. "You... h-have—"

"You are not making sense," he shrugged, shoulders shaking with laughter. "Ah, that's why. Love is the most useless of all. That love got you dying now, hmm?"

There was no need to entertain him. You unclenched your fist slowly, your fingers twisting in weird angle after Naoya broke them—but you readied yourself.

Just a little bit longer...

"If only from the very beginning, if you would just agree to be my wife instead of making a fool out of me—"

A bit... just a little bit more...

"—then perhaps, you'd be living the honored life as my wife—" he kept continuing with a stream of words that didn't quite register in your mind. Nevertheless, you remained fixated on the movement of your fingers.

"But you just had to go and drag that washed-up bastard to my doorstep, conspiring with that senile man and Gojo, and where does it get you now—"

Now.

"And your most moronic act is coming here, thinking that—hrrgk!"

Suddenly Naoya toppled over, clutching his throat, his breath coming in gasps. "W-what—"

A cruel smile curled on your lips, seeing the frightened look on his face. "I'm... telling you... you're going to... die today, Zen'in Naoya."

"W-what— did you do to me—!" Naoya squared on you with fury shining in his eyes. "You— wench!"

You kept your silence, closing your eyes. You felt tired. It was so tempting to go to sleep.

"Whore! You—bitch—urrgk!"

As the air slowly left his lungs, Naoya finally gained clarity. Your fingers. A hand sign...?

You had waited for this moment. For the very second he no longer pinned you and you had the freedom of the use of your hands.

It struck him like a bolt of lightning. Hara clan's cursed technique.

Manipulation of air density.

You were slowly choking him to death.

. . . It was somewhat of an irony, that you depended on your cursed technique in the end. For you who had always considered and known that your clan was a second-rate, believing that you hated yourself for being born with this cursed technique and made your mother suffer, you never really took pride in possessing this.

And yet today, you bet it all on this talent of yours. To finally make things right again.

You tuned out the rest of Naoya's last words. You only opened your eyes when you heard him thud to the ground, all pallid and blue.

A weight in your chest dissipated. You did it. You had avenged your mother, and perhaps, if the Gods were finally kind to you, after this you might be able to see her too...?

Regardless, now you could rest in peace, content with leaving everything behind.

And yet, despite thinking so, you couldn't help but to turn back to those days with Megumi, doing mundane things normal people did. Eating together, going on dates, his smile, laugh— you would never get to see him again, and that fact brought a tear to your eyes.

The only boy you ever loved. In this life, and in any potential other lives, you would undoubtedly wish to meet him again too.

The only consolation you had now was that, by doing this, you had also fulfilled your end of the binding vow with Gojo.

"How unfortunate, and now you're dragging Megumi into this? What's it in for me and him?"

This is it. You have no other way and even this is also your last resort. To save your mother and yourself, you must drag an innocent soul into this complicated mess. Fushiguro Megumi is going to take a part in your game of survival, and you will make sure that he won't be just a mere sacrificial pawn.

"I believe the Zen'in has been bothering you quite a lot too, all these years," you met Gojo's eyes calmly, hiding your fear. "If you can install Fushiguro Megumi in Zen'in clan, wouldn't that be easier?"

"Well, well, you seem to know your way around here, yeah?" Gojo threw you a tight smile, visibly amused. "I'm not going to be a hypocrite and say that I don't want to do away with them, but Megumi? Do you realize what you're implying?"

"What if I told you that I can definitely remove Zen'in Naoya from the equation?"

"How?"

"From what I've heard, only a handful of the clansmen favor him."

"It's not going to be that easy, Sena-chan. You're going to put his life in danger."

"That's what I'm proposing to you. I will not let them harm him."

Gojo let out a scoff. "Two conditions for one in return? Aren't you getting desperate? Are you sure it won't be easier if you just resign yourself to a life with the Zen'ins?"

"No." You bit your lip. "My mother would rather die than seeing me being married off to that misogynist, and my father would continue locking her up if I refuse this marriage with the Zen'ins."

After pondering for a while, Gojo agreed with your proposition. To make sure that you'd be staying true to your convictions and he'd get Megumi instated as a part of Zen'in clan, he pulled you into an unbreakable vow.

"In exchange of Fushiguro Megumi becoming a part of Zen'in clan, Hara Sena would remove Zen'in Naoya from the succession war, and at the same time, ensure his safety."

✩°｡ ⋆ next -> chapter twelve : the most twisted curse

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wiredlyrelatable · 11 months

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ARE YOU SURE??

KANIKA and ROHAN were sitting on a bench, outside the family court to take a divorce. They were waiting for their call from the judge and both of them facing the rain outside think about their past.

A few months earlier, one night as ROHAN comes to home, late at night, after his work and KANIKA who was waiting for him at the dinner table, stands up as he kissing her forehead says,

ROHAN: SORRY BABY! IT WAS AN URGENT DEADLINE.

She standing up, throwing his shirt on his face which had two lipstick marks on it, saying,

KANIKA: THANKS FOR THIS ANIVARSARY GIFT!

ROHAN: BABY IT'S NOT HOW IT LOOKS LIKE. YESTERDAY, I WAS BUYING A LIPSTICK FOR YOU. IN THE STORE, I JUST ASKED THAT LADY TO TRY DIFFERENT SHADES ON THE MANNEQUIN THERE SO THAT I CAN CHOOSE WHICH LOOKS BETTER. SHE DIDN'T HAVE A CLOTH TO WIPE THEM SO INSTEAD OF WASTING TIME I CLEARED IT WITH MY SLEEVE. OTHER LIGHT SHADES MAY HAVE GOT WASHED IN THE WASHING MACHINE AND MAYBE THIS ONE IS A SMUDGE PROOF ONE THAT'S WHY IT STAYED.

KANIKA: WHERE IS THE LIPSTICK THEN?

ROHAN: I DIDN'T BUT ANY. HAD TO LEAVE BECAUSE OF AN URGENT CALL FOR A MEETING.

She sarcastically says,

KANIKA: WOW! I HOPE YOU WERE A WRITER. ALL YOUR NOVELS WOULD BE THE BEST SELLERS.

ROHAN: YOU KNOW THAT I HATE SARCASTIC COMMENTS KNOW?

KANIKA: IS THAT THE REASON YOU CHEATED ON ME. HOW CAN YOU STOOP SO LOW AFTER ALL THESE YEARS OF OUR TOGETHERNESS MAN?

He holds both her hands and says,

ROHAN: I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING BABY! TRUST ME!

She removing her hands off his, slapping him hard on his right cheek, says,

KANIKA: GO TO HELL WITH YOUR TRUST!

She walks away from there but after a few steps, realising something, comes back and standing in front of him, sarcastically says,

KANIKA: OH! ACTUALLY NOW I KNOW THE REASON OF ALL THE OVERTIME YOU DO IN THE OFFICE. IS SHE YOUR CLIENT OR YOUR BOSS?

He getting angry because of the allegation on him and her sarcasm slaps her back saying,

ROHAN: HOW DARE YOU DEGRADE MY HARDWORK LIKE THIS. I DIDN'T EXPECT THESE ISSUES FROM YOU BABY. DON'T TALK TO ME EVER AGAIN. GOOD BYE!

Saying this he leaves the house and drives outside when she walks into a room in the house locking it from inside. Both of them walked different paths that day and have seen eachother today for the last hearing of their divorce.

Both if them randomly look at eachother when their eyes were filled with guilt. As the judge calls their names, they start going inside the room when she looks at their wedding ring in his hand as she walked inside behind him. Understanding his feelings towards her, before the judge said anything, she held his hands, made him turn towards her and hugging him tight saying,

KANAKA: I AM SORRY! I SHOULD HAVE MADE YOU SIT AND TALKED TO YOU THAT NIGHT INSTEAD OF YELLING OUT IN SARCARSM LIKE THAT.

He hugging her back with tears says,

ROHAN: AND I SHOULDN'T HAVE SLAPPED YOU!

Both of them come out of the hug, smile at eachother and holding hands look at the judge who says,

JUDGE: KANIKA! ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE THE MARRIAGE AFTER THIS DOMESTIC VIOLENCE ON YOU?

KANIKA: SIR! EVEN I SLAPPED HIM AFTER WHICH HE RAISED HIS HAND. WE BOTH WERE WRONG THEN, BUT NOW WE ARE APOLOGETIC ABOUT IT SO YES, I WANT TO GIVE OUR RELATIONSHIP ANOTHER CHANCE.

She looking at him says,

KANIKA: IF IT'S OKAY WITH HIM.

He smiles and looking at her, straight into her eyes says,

ROHAN: YES! EVEN I DON'T WANT TO BREAK THIS RELATIONSHIP NOW. LET'S BUILD IT AGAIN BABY!

Both of them apologise to the judge for wasting the court's time, walk outside, holding hands, in the rain like old times, keep smiling looking at eachother and drive back to their home.

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haruchyio · 3 years

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things he does during a video call with you

— mitsuya takashi x reader

— theme. crack, fluff

study dates over the phone is a normal occurence.

"didn't we go over this topic ten minutes ago?" he asks patiently, a soft smile on his lips while you bit your lip in guiltily. mitsuya chuckles and shuffled on the other side of his study table, disappearing from the camera for a moment to fetch the notes he had stored in one of the drawers.

"i'm sorry," he hears you mumble and he hums. he flips the notebook to a certain page before looking back at you with his beautiful smile, eyes void of any hostility or irritation.

"it's alright. the reason why we had a call today is so i could help you. i'd go over this topic as many times as you want until you understand it."

mitsuya is truly an angel sent from above.

he tries to fend for himself whenever his siblings would barge into the room, demanding to talk to you.

"stop hogging them, taka-nii!" the two sisters crossed their arms in unison, eyebrows furrowed with their lips jutted to a pout. you giggled as mitsuya wordlessly changes the perspective of the camera to show his little sisters standing on his doorway, glaring at his soul.

"yeah! it's our turn to talk to them!" mana marches towards her brother and the camera blurs. you could hear shuffles of clothing and footsteps, and when the camera finally focuses, you could see mitsuya holding his hand up above his head.

"that's not fair! you're too tall!" the two sisters reached their hands in an attempt to steal his phone, only to sigh in defeat when mitsuya remains unmoving. you let out a quiet laugh, earning a glance from luna—making her turn around to whisper something at mana's ears.

mitsuya lifts an eyebrow, cautiously observing his sisters as they snickered amongst themselves. "what—"

"(y/n)-san! taka-nii said he'll marry you while he was sleeping last night!"

"m-marriage?!"

he stares at you alot, especially when you're busy doing your own thing.

you were reading your notes while mitsuya quietly hums a tune under his breath. silence is normal when you're both in a call, but knowing you're at each other's presence is already enough.

"i'd have to meet your parents someday," he says out of the blue, making you look up at him from your notebook. warmth creeping up your neck when you realized what he was implying, and he lets out a chuckle once he sees your flustered state.

he takes this as a sign to continue.

"and thank them for giving birth to a beautiful person."

ah, this man never fails to make you flustered. mitsuya is just too damn smooth with his words. who the hell did he learn it from?

he makes sure to remind you sll the things you might forget before he ends the call, but dw, he texts you still to be sure.

"don't stay up sll night, okay? go to sleep." he says with a firm tone that almost made you want to put up a childish fight for the fun of it, but the yawn that escapes your lips only proved his point.

you gave him a nod, rubbing your eye in an attempt to rub the drowsiness away—not wanting to end the call just yet. "sure, dad."

he hums. "don't forget to put away your books and return your notes back in your bag. bring an umbrella tomorrow too, alright? i heard there's going to be rain soon."

mitsuya gives you an onslaught of reminders that you probably wouldn't remember once you wake up, especially now that you're half-asleep, barely able to keep your eyes open. he chuckles when he hears you mumble inaudibly, but he assumes it probably was the same as your last response.

"and don't forget that i love you. i really really do. now go to sleep."

1K notes · View notes

kim-seung-mo · 2 years

Text

Lonesome Nights (Part Three)

Lee Minho x fem!Reader, slight Hwang Hyunjin x fem!Reader

♩angst to smut (?) to fluff, arranged marriage au, non-idol au, romance, oral (female receiving), handjob (male receiving), no penetrative sex, hair pulling (male receiving), kinda sorta dom!reader but not really, emotion overflow, a lot of crying, minho has Ombrophobia and Astraphobia (fear of rain and thunder)

♩♩ word count: 15.1k (oh my god)

♩♩♩ A/N: oh dear I suck at writing smut but trust me when I say I tried qaq

read part two here

The weather has been muggy since you woke up today. It felt like it was going to rain. And Minho has been acting a bit weird since the moment he got up. First of all, he didn't wake you up when he did, but got up alone and went directly to the bathroom. You woke up while he was in the shower. You felt a tinge of unease at not being woken up by him, but you didn't take it seriously at the time.

What made you really realize that there was something odd going on with him was when he got out of the shower. He dried his hair with a towel and tossed it into the dirty clothes box next to the bathroom before leaving the master bedroom without a glance at you. Your eyes followed his back, your mind filled with confusion. With that doubt, you got up from the bed, put on your slippers, and went into the bathroom to wash up a bit before leaving the master bedroom as well.

Minho wasn't cooking breakfast nor had he switched on the TV, he was just sitting on the couch staring blankly ahead, not even moving. It was so odd, you'd never seen him like this before. You tried to shift to his side, but then your phone rang unexpectedly. When you looked down, it read "Chris" in the caller's name. It was barely ten o'clock, so why was Chan calling you? You pressed the answer button and held the phone to your ear.

"Oh my God Y/N! You won't believe what I'm about to say!" He sounded very excited, perhaps even more so than when he found out you and Minho were engaged. "I think I'm getting signed to a record label!"

Your eyes lit up at those words. You and Chan had become very close friends over the months. Although you always acted like you resented him, he did become an integral part of your life. You were so proud of him when you heard that he was able to achieve his dream.

"Oh my God Chris! I'm not dreaming, am I? When did this happen?"

"Just now! They sent me an email asking me to prepare for an interview! It's today! At Insomnia! Because it seems they're gonna ask me to do an interview in addition to the audition, and they want me to tell them about my work and stuff! So… for that reason……" Oh, so he didn't just call you to share his joy, he was asking for something. "Y/N! Can you come over and help me out? This interview is really important to me!"

You heard Chan's excited voice on the other side of the line and couldn't think of a reason to refuse. But then you thought of Minho, and you turned your head to look at him. He was still sitting there as still as he had just been, not moving at all, as if he didn't know you were on the phone.

"Yes I can, but do you want me to come over now?" You were a little worried about Minho's situation right now, and you wanted to make sure he was taken care of first if you could. "I've got a bit of business on my end."

"As soon as possible! They're already on their way! I have to at least pretend like it's busy here… Please Y/N, this really means a lot to me! It's a chance I might never get a second time in my life… I'll thank you for the rest of my life, I really will!"

You pursed your lips and finally agreed to his words. "Okay, I'll go now then."

You looked at the casual attire you were wearing and decided that it wasn't appropriate to meet Chan like that, so you turned around and went upstairs to change into something nicer. A simple white dress without too much decoration on it, it was one of your favorite dresses. As for the reason…… You didn't really want to remember now. You shouldn't have to wear anything too formal for the interview, not to mention that it wasn't you who was going to be interviewed, it was Chan, you just needed to be there for moral support and help. With that in mind, you smiled with satisfaction at yourself in the mirror and decided to just go downstairs. But when you got down to the door and were about to put on your shoes, Minho, who hadn't said a word, suddenly spoke up.

"Where are you going?" Somehow he was already standing behind you. You didn't even hear him come up to you.

"Chris is going to be interviewed by a record company and I have to go help-" "Don't go."

He interrupted before you could finish. It was then that you looked up at him. His hair hadn't quite dried out, but the dampness in his eyes wasn't supposed to be from a shower. Plus, his pupils seemed to be trembling. It seemed as if he was afraid of something. He tightened his grip on your wrist, his hands were also cold, unlike the warm ones you were familiar with.

"Minho?" you frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Don't go." He repeated the same words.

It was drizzling outside, seeing this, your other hand reached for the cabinet off to the side and pulled an umbrella from it. His gesture hadn't changed, his breathing uneven, still staring at you.

"It's something important to Chris, and I have to go help him. Besides, what am I staying for? Don't you have work today?" You thought for a moment. "That's right, it's Tuesday. Don't you have corporate meetings on Tuesdays?"

But he just looked so odd.

"What's wrong?"

His hands relaxed a little, followed by a couple of steps backwards, as if realizing that he'd scared you with such perverse actions. He pursed his lips and lowered his head to take a deep breath, but didn't say anything.

"Minho?" "Don't go… Please……"

His head remains lowered, making it impossible for you to see his expression. Your heart felt full of doubt, but you decided to hurry up with him after thinking of Chan's anxious state over there.

"Do you have a reason? I'm leaving if you don't have a reason." "……"

He didn't give you an answer. Any other day you would have dropped everything and helped him over to the couch for a few more questions, but today was a different story, and Chan was right, this interview could be a chance he'd never get a second time. If his music dreams were ruined because you weren't there, you'd hate yourself for the rest of your life. So even though you were very concerned about Minho, you didn't ask any more questions, turned around and pushed the door open and left.

After messaging Changbin to tell him he won't need to pick you up today, you open your umbrella and set off in the direction of Insomnia. Chan was scrambling to tidy up when you arrived, wearing a somewhat amusing suit, pairing that with a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. A completely different person from the Chan you were used to spending time with. But there was something really funny about him cleaning in that outfit. You pushed the door open and put the umbrella aside before hastily taking the broom and dustpan from his hands. When he saw that you had finally arrived, he asked you for your opinion on his outfit and you couldn't fool him, telling him straight away that there was really no need to be so formal. The people at the record company were supposed to be looking at his talent rather than his appearance, therefore he just had to be himself. After you said that, he nodded in agreement and went upstairs to change his clothes. When he came back down, he was wearing his regular outfit.

Maybe Chan had miscalculated the time, because the record company people didn't show up for a long time. Chan was falling asleep waiting, and if you hadn't been there, the interviewer would have come in and found him asleep at the counter.

After waiting with Chan for quite some time, it was noon and still no one was there. You began to regret coming out of the house without listening to Minho's explanation. What if there was some special reason why he wouldn't let you go? With that in mind, you were about to take out your phone and call him, but before you could get it out, there was a knock at the door, followed by someone coming in. It was the people from the record company. A man who was conducting the interview and a man who looked like a cameraman.

Quickly putting away the phone and shaking Chan, who was about to fall asleep, you guys were ready to start the interview. After a brief self introduction, you quietly retreated to the side to do your daily cleaning duties, and Chan did seem to relax a bit with you there. You were proud of him for not stuttering when he introduced his creative ideas and answered questions. The music playing in the background was a new album he had just played for you and Changbin the other day.

After a couple of hours of interviewing, the interviewers started to ask about the cafe. Chan stood up to introduce them to the cafe and to introduce the only other employee in the cafe, you. Chan got even more relaxed as he told the story of how you two first met, adding a lot of extra details to the story that never happened. You just shook your head from the sidelines, deciding not to correct him.

After that, they started talking about professional subjects in music, which you gradually started to lose track of, and started to think of other things. That is, what happened to Minho this morning. You wondered how he was doing and whether he had got to work without any problems. He should be at his office working by now at this hour. You don't want to disturb him, so instead of calling, you took out your phone and sent a message to Jisung asking about it, and glanced at the time. It was almost five o'clock. You didn't even realize that it had been so long. Chan asked you to make a couple of coffees for the guests, so you confirmed that the message had been sent and put your phone away.

It was almost dinner time when Chan told you that he had his own kitchen upstairs so you could see what was in the fridge and make something for everyone to eat. You had left in a hurry this morning and hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch. It was true that you were a little hungry at this point, and you were sure Chan was too. So even though it felt a little strange to have to enter a single man's house by yourself, you went upstairs.

Chan's home was modest, with the living room and kitchen joined together and no separate dining room. There was nothing in the living room but a couch, a coffee table and a TV. There were only two rooms next to each other, one of which was the bathroom and the other must have been his bedroom and studio. You took a casual glance and immediately headed for his kitchen and opened the somewhat miniature fridge.

There was hardly anything in his fridge, the complete opposite of what Minho had at home. Apart from whipped cream that had been frozen, presumably for making coffee, there were only a few energy drinks. No real food at all. You close the fridge and look around, trying to find instant food like instant noodles, but you couldn't find anything but granola bars. You couldn't have four people eating granola bars for dinner. With that in mind, you pulled out your phone and clicked on the take-out app.

It was raining heavily, but it was the only way you could get food right now……. You'll have to give the delivery guy a 5-star review and extra tip. So after a few moments of flicking through the take-out app, you ordered some food for the four of you.

Thinking that there was probably no point in you going downstairs now, you might as well sit in Chan's living room for a while. You made your way to the living room and turned on the TV. There was nothing interesting on at this time of day, after all, dramas don't come on until around eight o'clock, so you turned on a variety show that nobody watched. In a flash, 40 minutes had gone by.

Just as you were about to fall asleep, your phone rang. It was the take-out that had arrived. At the same time, you saw a red dot on your messenger app.

Han Jisung: "It's raining today."

That was all he wrote back to you, a strange statement.

But just as you were about to ask further, Chan called you from downstairs, and with the fact that you were indeed starving right now, you immediately forgot about it. You went straight downstairs to eat.

During dinner, the four of you started talking about things other than music, like Chan's background, and Chan was very generous with his stories, not hiding anything. That was something you envied, you couldn't be as open about your background as Chan and not be afraid of people having strange thoughts.

Chan said he was indeed born into a relatively wealthy family. He has a younger brother and a younger sister, who he claims was better suited to carry on the family business than he was. His sister seemed to think so too. His family was from Australia, so perhaps they were more open-minded. Chan said that when he first told his parents that he wanted to make music, they didn't stop him, they were even supportive. The cafe he ran now was funded by his father. It seemed that Chan's parents loved him dearly.

You couldn't help but feel a little jealous as he told this story.

It was 7pm by the time dinner was over, and the interview went on for another two hours or so. You were more interested because it was about his own life, something you could understand, so you sat aside and listened carefully. It was pouring outside, more so than before. You glanced at the weather forecast and it appeared that thunder was going to strike later. This was the first time it had rained since you had moved in with Minho. With such heavy rain, you wondered if Minho was going to have a hard time getting back. Wait, did Minho even go to work? But even if he did, he should be home bu now.

You remembered Jisung's strange comment from earlier and took out your phone again.

You: "So does that mean yes or no?"

Jisung was probably busy, you waited for a few minutes but didn't get an answer.

"So, Mr. Bang, that's the end of our interview for today."

You looked up at those words. The interviewer was shaking Chan's hand, confirming what you had just heard. You glanced at your watch again; it was almost ten o'clock. This interview had gone on for a full nine hours. There were breaks in between, but after such a long interview, you'd be the first person to be angry if the record company refused to sign Chan in the end.

"Thank you guys, really. I'm looking forward to getting a response." Chan's voice was a little hoarse, but still looked cheerful as always. He then frowned after glancing out the window at the rain. "Are you guys going to be okay going back with all this rain? Do you need to stay with us for a while longer until the rain stops?"

The cameraman beside the interviewer waved his hand. "It's not going to stop raining today, there's going to be thunder later, it's better to leave now before it gets even worse. If we stay any longer, we won't be able to leave for sure. It's strange huh, how it only rains twice a year here, and each time it's like the end of the world."

Chan nodded. "It's a good thing we're so high up here, otherwise we'd be flooded with all this rain, wouldn't we?"

After a few more moments of conversation around the subject of rain, you walked the two out of Insomnia with Chan.

Once the doors were closed, Chan slid down with his back against them and let out a huge breath in the process.

"Good job, Chris." "You too, you really did me a big——favor. I don't even know how to properly thank you……"

You smiled and held out your hand to pull him up. He smiled back and thanked you before taking a couple of steps to get behind the cash register. From the small cooler under the register, he took out two ice creams. "Want some? I've been saving these for a long time. They're only for important times like this! There're only two left, so you can share them with me."

You waved your hand. "Go ahead and eat it yourself, save the other one for when you've officially signed with them. I ate a bit too much just now. Not hungry at all." And you weren't lying, you really weren't very hungry right now, nor did you really want ice cream. "Your offer is appreciated though."

He grunted before putting the other ice cream back in the freezer.

"Then you have to at least give me a hug, I have to show my appreciation somehow, right?" He ripped the wrapper off the ice cream before walking towards you and opening his arms. "Or maybe hugs aren't allowed? Because Minho gets jealous?"

You rolled your eyes. "Are you going to eat the ice cream or hug me?"

He grinned. "Both."

He took you in his arms; Chan wasn't much taller than you, your chin rested right on his shoulder as you two hugged. He grinned and swayed from side to side like a little child who hadn't grown up. "Y/N, really, thank you. I've been so immersed in the world of music that I haven't had a friend like you in a long time. Thank you for showing up in my life and being my friend. Thank you really."

You couldn't help but smile at such a melodramatic and somewhat corny comment. "Thank me for what, I'm the one who has to thank you."

He ends the hug and looks at you with a somewhat puzzled look, licking the nearly melting ice cream in the process. "Thank me? I didn't do anything, did I?"

You smiled again as you remembered the "ring incident" that had happened a while ago.

"Minho," you said.

And just as you were about to continue, you suddenly heard the sound of the doorbell ringing behind you. Taken aback, you turn to look. Then froze.

"Y/N?"

The visitor froze in place just as you did, dropping the rain-soaked backpack in his hand to the floor.

For a moment, it was like your heart stopped. Even the sound of the rain outside the window disappeared. It was as if the world had paused.

"…….Hyunjin?"

Ten seconds, thirty seconds, a minute, and so time passed. Only the ticking of the pendulum on the wall and the sound of the rain slowly reappearing outside the window reminded you that time was not frozen.

Hyunjin simply stared at you, pupils quivering, breathing heavily, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He wanted to say something, but every time he took a breath, wanting to speak, he didn't know what to say. Finally, he took his eyes off you and looked at Chan, who was standing behind you, who had also remained still since Hyunjin walked in.

"You're Lee Minho?" He asked in a barely audible voice.

Chan frowned, "Who are you? We're closed today-" "Answer me!"

Hyunjin gritted his teeth and took a few steps to walk up to him, but you pulled his wrist as he passed you. The moment you made contact with him, both of you stiffened for a moment.

"Hyunjin…he's not." You said in a firm tone. But Hyunjin still looked unconvinced, glancing in Chan's direction and then at you, finally clenching his fist somewhat defiantly.

"But you just called him-" "I said he isn't. Hyunjin, don't be unreasonable."

You did your best to hide the emotion in your eyes. It seemed to work, because Hyunjin looked desperately into your eyes at the sound of your emotionless voice, trying to find something familiar in them, but all he saw was coldness.

The words 'you weren't like this before' were written on his face. He was the same as before, unable to hide any feelings. Just one look and you could see right through him.

"Chris, I'm sorry, could you excuse me? I…" You raised Hyunjin's wrist, and clutched it in your hand, "I need to have a word with him."

Chan nodded though there was a moment's hesitation. After throwing you a worried look, at last, he turned and walked up the stairs.

At that moment, a loud thunderclap struck, and you felt your phone vibrate in your trouser pocket, probably a text message from Jisung. But you didn't have time to read it. Your eyes were still on Hyunjin, your mind full of questions. But more than that, there was anger.

After Chan closed the door upstairs behind you, you let go of Hyunjin's hand.

"Why are you here?" You asked in a cold voice.

He heard your unwelcome tone and felt his heart ache just a little. His brow tightened, the wetness in his eyes unsure if it was from the rain or from himself.

"I… came, to see you……"

You frowned in return, "How did you know I was here?"

Hyunjin pursed his lips and tried to reach for your hand again, but you turned gently sideways and didn't let him. When he saw how resistant you were, he had to take two steps back, distancing himself from you.

"It's just a coincidence that I'm here… I didn't expect…… to see you here." The look in his eyes still full of love. But that happened to be the last thing you wanted to see right now. "I can't believe we're just going to end like this."

"I thought what I said in my text-" "That wasn't you at all!"

Hyunjin interrupted you, the raindrops hanging in his hair dripping down as a result of the cry.

"Y/N! I've known you for so many years… You simply…… You wouldn't talk to me like that…… I know you must-" He choked out a sob as his emotions took over again. You saw the corners of his eyes redden for a moment, and his breathing, which had just calmed down, rushed up again. He ducked his head, not wanting you to see him cry, his nose sniffled as he let out a shaky breath. "Y/N…I feel like I'm dying."

Coming from his mouth, these words would normally be an exaggeration. But now, at this very moment, seeing the way he's lost his mind, running through the rain to come to your city to find you… And the dark circles under his eyes, the bloodshot eyes, the dry, chapped lips, the cold hand you just held…… Maybe he wasn't exaggerating when he said he was "dying" just now.

"I don't believe it. No matter what you say in your text messages… I don't believe it. I don't even know how many times you must have edited those messages, how long you thought about them… That must be just crap you made up to deceive me……" He dropped the hand covering his face, but his eyes remained closed. "I found you just from hiding from the rain, doesn't this mean that we're meant to be? This is why… That is why I don't accept anything you say in your text messages. I won't allow you to sacrifice yourself. I want…I have to keep loving you…"

There was truth in what he said. It was true that you deleted and rewrote the message you sent him, again and again, back and forth several times like that before you sent it. It was true that you weren't as firm as you sounded like, but you weren't unfirm about your feelings, rather about how to get him to give up.

"Hyunjin…we're done. We…… never even started. If we never even start, why are you so upset? There are countless people in this world who are better than me. Why does if have to-" "Because you still love me… Don't you?"

You were silent. Not because you didn't know… Rather, because you didn't know how to tell him.

But he took your silence for your uncertainty. With a thud, he fell to his knees.

"If you still love me, why don't you give me another chance? Why did you give up on me? I… I would never want more… I just want to be with you… I just need you to love me. I wouldn't want anything more than a relationship with you, I wouldn't expect to marry you. I will never be jealous of Lee Minho, I will never hate him …… All I want is for you to love me …… Please, Y/N…?"

"No." Without even a second's hesitation, you rejected him. His eyes widened, as if he hadn't expected you to reject his plea so quickly. But he was just about to make another move when you continued to speak. "You shouldn't… You can't lower yourself to anyone like this. Especially… Not in a relationship. Absolutely not."

Such relationships with one-sided effort will only hurt you in the end.

Why couldn't he understand this?

"Fine then, I won't beg you…" He stood up, his eyes still damp. He still didn't understand you at all. "I just want you to tell me that you still love me… In your heart, I still-"

"Hwang Hyunjin!" you shouted, finally unable to resist. "Did you even hear what I just said?! Must I put it that bluntly for you to understand?!"

You called him by his full name, you had never called him by his full name like that before. You've never been angry with him. At least not as angry as you were today.

You thought he would be taken aback slightly at hearing such a tone of voice from you, but the frustration in his heart was ignited into anger at this point as well by your words.

"I don't get it! I don't understand! Nor do I want to understand! All I want to know is… Why are you acting like I don't mean anything to you anymore? Why? Are you being forced by Lee Minho? Did he do something to you-"

"That's enough! You don't understand, do you? If you don't understand, I'll tell you more bluntly. Hyunjin, you're not the right person."

Another thunderclap fell and Hyunjin's heart seemed to skip a beat. His eyes went wide, and if there had been a hint of sadness in his eyes earlier, there was nothing but disbelief at this point.

"… What do you mean? What do you mean I'm "not… the right person"? Lee Minho… is he the right person? But you're not even-"

Hyunjin's words were interrupted by a ringing tone, the ringing of your phone, someone calling you.

You took out your phone and looked at it, only to see "Minho" written on the dialer. It was Minho calling you. And when you looked at the time, it was almost eleven o'clock.

"Don't answer… Answer me, what do you mean by that?"

You wanted to answer the phone, but you didn't want to leave Hyunjin hanging at the same time. Besides, it would be rude to answer the phone in the middle of a conversation. So you didn't answer it, even though you were concerned about Minho, and let it continue to ring on. You looked back in Hyunjin's direction, no longer hiding the feelings in your eyes. You stroke the ring on your middle finger and felt the warmth of it. It was like feeling the warmth from Minho. The corners of your mouth begin to rise at the thought of him.

"I mean exactly what you think I mean, Jinnie…" you deliberately switch to the nickname you used to call him to show how serious you are. "He is the right person… I don't know how he thinks of me, but… I love him."

His eyes fell on your finger, the ring, too, at last.

"Love…" Hyunjin gritted his teeth, not knowing how to react for a moment when he heard that word come out of your mouth. That was probably something he had given you a lot of, and something he had thought you had for him. When you first met, he wondered if you remember. It was his goal to make you learn how to love someone. He thought he had taught you long ago… He thought that you had never confessed your love to him, perhaps because you didn't know how to, or perhaps because you were waiting for him to take the initiative. What he didn't expect was… Perhaps you never had feelings like "love" for him. Now here you are, the word coming out of your mouth, not to him, but to another person… Someone you've only known for less than two months…… He really didn't know what to think.

Maybe he really wasn't the right person.

"You love him?"

You nodded.

"Jinnie, I love him."

In that moment, it was as if all the jealousy, all the discontentment, all the sadness and grief disappeared. It was only for a few brief seconds. But after hearing you say those words with such sincerity, in that moment… He was happy for you.

"It's love, not fondness… Not admiration, not other feelings… but love, isn't it? You want to be with him for the rest of your life, you want him to have all the happiness in the world, your heart tears at the sight of him being sad, you want to give him everything you have, you have eyes for him alone, you think of him all the time… Is that what you feel like?"

These words, he didn't know who he was saying them to. Was he describing his feelings for you, or was he really asking for your answer?

To you, the old you, the one who had just met Hyunjin, these feelings he had just described were things you had not experienced. But as he was talking, as each of these examples came out of his mouth. In your head, it was all Minho indeed.

"I want to be with him forever."

"……"

Hyunjin put his head down, and his clenched hand loosened. At the same time, he laughed out loud.

You thought it was a self-mocking laugh and were just about to say something when he took two steps in your direction and then cupped your face.

"Y/N…" the emotion in his eyes changed again, a little similar to sadness, but different. His eyes were smiling, and it made you feel slightly puzzled. "You love him."

But there's no doubt in your mind about that anymore.

"I love him."

He smiled again, this time a somewhat helpless smile. "Why didn't you tell me earlier that it was because you were in love with him? Not once did you mention your feelings in your text messages… I thought that you were ready to sacrifice your happiness for your dad's company. If that's the case, there's nothing you could have said that would make me give up." He pressed his lips together and continued, "But if it's because you're in love with him… Then you have to be happy." His thumb traces the corner of your eye and rests on your cheek. "Though now I'm really wondering how on earth that man managed to do what I couldn't do for years… But if you say so…… Well, then you must be happy, even… Even if it's not with me. I won't ask you for anything else, I only have this one wish. Prove to me with your own happiness… It's the right decision to give you up, is that okay?"

You took his wrist in yours, and this time you were smiling too.

"I'll try."

Hyunjin let go of your face, his eyes were still on you. But the atmosphere between you was completely different from what it had been a few minutes ago. You knew he still felt terrible inside, but he was still smiling. Hyunjin was an important, very important, perhaps the most important friend to you. Although your feelings for him were no longer romantic, you still hoped from the bottom of your heart that he would be happy.

"Jinnie, you have to be happy too." You suddenly called out to him as he was about to leave. "You have to prove to me too… You were right to give up on me."

He turned his back to you and waved his hand at you, meaning yes.

You watched as he was about to push the door open and leave, and suddenly called out to him again like you remembered something.

"What's wrong this time? Are you going to let me go or not?"

You ran to the door and handed him the umbrella you had brought with you in the morning, which you had left by the door. "You take this with you. You'll definitely catch a cold if you keep soaking in the rain. I'll just call Minho later."

He looked at the umbrella in your hand, and then at you. "No need."

"But Hyunjin-" "Sad endings go well with rain."

"Besides, if I get a really bad cold and a fever that just burns away all my feelings for you…… It would be so much easier."

You couldn't help but laugh at his wonky argument. "You're saying weird things again."

He picked up the backpack he had dropped on the floor earlier and looked back at you one last time.

"By the way, Y/N…I'm definitely not showing up for your wedding."

With those words, Hyunjin disappears into the rainy night.

The rain probably wasn't going to stop or get any lighter. It was raining even harder now compared to when Hyunjin left a few minutes ago. Not only was it raining, but it was also windy. Even if you go out with an umbrella, you'll only get blown away.

With that thought, you switch on your phone to call Minho and ask him to come and pick you up.

But then you suddenly remember that he called you earlier when you were talking to Hyunjin.

1 missed call from: Minho today at 10:58 PM

1 new voice message from: Minho today at 10:59 PM

The voice message was only three seconds long, so you immediately clicked on it.

A small, subtle voice comes through, so subtle you almost didn't hear it.

"Please… Come back……"

He was crying.

Realizing this, you felt your heart tighten and clicked on the text messages from Jisung again.

After a quick read, you suddenly felt that nothing mattered anymore.

Without even taking your umbrella, without even saying goodbye to Chan, you pushed open the door of the cafe and ran out.

4 new text message from: Han Jisung today at 10:40 PM

Han Jisung: "Boss has a phobia of rain and thunder."

Han Jisung: "Wait, aren't you with Boss, Miss Y/N?"

Han Jisung: "You weren't with him this whole day?"

Han Jisung: "Miss Y/N??"

That's why he reacted that way this morning, that's why he begged you not to leave… He had begged you, he was already that abnormal, you could see that he was abnormal, why were you so stupid, why didn't you stay with him? Why didn't you just ask again? You know he's stubborn and feisty, so why didn't you ……Why why why why why……

By the time you got home, there wasn't a dry spot left on your body. Your hair was all over your face and some of it had even gotten into your mouth. You've been running for almost ten minutes straight and were on the verge of running out of breath, but none of that mattered.

The living room was pitch black, or rather the entire 1st floor was in complete darkness. There was no sign of Minho.

You quickly shut the front door and ran upstairs without even taking off your shoes.

It was dark on the 2nd floor too. Your heart went cold again.

Your first instinct was to go to his office, but there was no one there. Then came the bedroom.

The moment you pushed open the bedroom door, there was another loud thunderclap outside the window. Immediately afterwards, you heard a small whimper from the other side of the bed. With the little flash of light from the lightning, you saw Minho, curled up in bed with his ears tightly covered, next to his phone.

For a moment, you were relieved to see him. But when you heard his whimpers, you immediately stepped forward and, not caring that you were covered in rain, stomped off your shoes and climbed onto the bed.

"Minho…" you tried to call out, but he didn't respond. Thinking that maybe he didn't hear you, you reached out and tried to touch his shoulder, only to see him immediately flinch away as if he had been electrocuted. Nothing but fear was in his eyes, eyes that should be bright and clear.

He should never have had such an expression on his face.

When the panic slowly faded and he recognized that it was you in front of him, two streams of tears instantly fell. As if he had broken down, he threw himself at you like a madman and dove into your arms, his hands clutching yours so tightly that he didn't let go even when his nails were clamped into the back of your hand. There was no part of his body that wasn't trembling, and… Although it was you who was soaked in rain, his body temperature was even cooler than yours.

He made helpless, child-like sobs, worse than when he had his panic attack that night. His mouth kept repeating the same words over and over again. But perhaps because he was crying, or perhaps because he was shivering, you couldn't hear a single word.

You tried to calm him down, but he locked you in his arms, leaving no room for you to move. Then again, in a situation like this, he wouldn't have been able to understand much of what you were saying…

He held you like that for the next three minutes, mumbling strange and incomprehensible words. It was only when he let go of your hand to cover his ears for another thunderclap that you were able to hold him back and stroke the back of his head.

"You're -still- alive…… Not, not dead, still… A-alive, you're not dead……"

It was now that you finally understood what he was saying. But after hearing it, you got even more confused.

Why would he think you were dead?

But this wasn't supposed to be the time to ask the question, and all you could do was cater to his words.

"Yes, I'm not dead… Minho, look… I'm not dead. I'm right here… I'm sorry… Don't cry, Minho…… calm down……"

You helped him cover his ears together, resting your forehead against his, murmuring and repeating those words.

I'm not dead, I'm right here, I'm sorry, don't cry, calm down.

You didn't know how much time had passed, maybe ten minutes, or maybe an hour. You had lost all sense of time. His tears dried up, his rapid heartbeat and breathing settled down. But even though he seemed to be recovering, he still wouldn't leave your embrace. He just rested against your forehead, his brow still furrowed and his eyes closed.

"Minho…are you okay?" Finally, after his breathing had completely steadied, you asked, opening your eyes and carefully observing his expression.

The rain outside was still heavy, but the thunder had died down. Minho opened his eyes at the sound of your voice, red circles and bloodshot whites still making you feel stuffy and guilty.

"I'm sorry…. over at Insomnia…… Something came up and I didn't get to pick up your call in time. I'm really sorry……"

He slid his head down the side of your face to your shoulder, his hands leaving his ears to encircle your waist.

"As long as you are okay……"

While you felt relieved to see him as if relaxed, at the same time the question remained. Why did he think you were dead, and what did Jisung mean by "fear of rain and thunder" in his text? Why would he have such a fear? Even if he did have a fear of thunder and rain, what did that have to do with "thinking you were dead"? You had a feeling it wasn't going to be as simple as you thought.

Your hand continued to stroke his hair as you pondered how to ask the question you had in mind. Or rather, whether you should ask it at all. The rain has lightened but not yet stopped, which meant that Minho was still in a rather unstable state of mind. You were afraid that if you accidentally asked the wrong question you might send him into another panic. That was the last thing you wanted.

"I've shown you my useless side again……"

Your heart ached a little at the sadness that filled his tone.

"I don't care about that sort of thing…" "But I care….."

His arms tightened a little as he took a deep breath. "I care… About how I look in your eyes……"

You pursed your lips, you have had the answer to that question in your mind for a long time. But at the moment you didn't know how to answer. What would he think if you said he was someone important? Would he take it as a sign that you had more than friendly feelings for him?

"I know I shouldn't be like this, I shouldn't be overly concerned about how I look to others… But you're different. I don't care about anyone else, but you're different… You're the one I want to spend time with, the one who's going to be with me for the rest of my life… I want to project a reliable, strong image… To provide you with a home, a safe haven…… I don't want to appear weak in front of you, but I don't want to hide anything from you either… Y/N, do you know how hard that is? Everyone thinks I'm the unreachable, cold and tough guy……. I have even started to think of myself that way. Before I met you, I forgot that I could even be like this, sensitive and vulnerable like a normal human person. But I was just so scared… Scared that you might……"

He choked up again as he reached the end of his sentence. Tears that had just dried up once again flowed down the corners of his eyes.

"I was afraid that you'd left me… Like mom and dad……"

Minho's parents were mentioned to you by your father. They passed away in a car accident four years ago. That's why Minho inherited the Lee Corporation at such a young age. But apart from the fact that they died in a car accident and that Minho had insomnia because of it, you knew nothing about his parents' death and never thought about it. Now it seemed that the car accident caused more than just insomnia.

"I thought I'd never tell anyone about this… But I don't want you to worry, Y/N. You must be curious, right? The way I just reacted… What was really going on."

Though he did speak your mind, you didn't want to force him.

"I don't mind, Minho. if you're not ready to tell me now, I'm not going to make you. Nothing will come between us over this, I promise."

He let go of your waist and sat up straight before bringing his head up to look you in the eyes. Though he still looked drained, the fear in his eyes from earlier had disappeared. In its place was an expression more gentle than at any time before.

"No, I believe you, Y/N, I know you would never force me. But, like I just said…… I don't want to hide anything from you, never again to have a misunderstanding over anything. Besides, as my future wife, you'll have to know sooner or later."

He reached over and took your hand in his, you could still feel his hand trembling slightly. He took a deep, shaky breath and exhaled. He closed his eyes and opened them again a few seconds later, as if he had finished sorting out his thoughts.

Then he spoke.

"I assume that you, like everyone else, only know that my parents died in a 'car accident', or at least that's all you should know. After all, the police and I haven't put out any facts other than this false information."

"My parents didn't die in a car accident, they were killed. They were killed by an employee of the company. A former employee who had been made redundant by my father for lack of capability. At our old house, 2:48am, in the middle of a thunderstorm. He shot himself after killing my parents. I couldn't even hold him accountable. And it was all my fault."

You simply didn't know what to say.

"The company would have been doomed if this had been made public. Even in the midst of extreme grief and anger I was aware of the matter. So I spent a huge amount of money to falsify the facts into a car accident. There are only five people who know the truth, and now with you, there are only six in total."

No wonder he was always so sad when he mentioned his parents, his eyes always so remorseful. That was why.

But you couldn't think of any words to describe how you felt at the moment other than heartbroken.

"It's because I didn't leave the bodyguard with them, because I went out that night against their wishes, because I didn't pay enough attention… Didn't take proper precautions… Because I was too useless that they……"

His fists clenched tight, his teeth gritted as he blamed himself to the core.

You couldn't even imagine how he felt, what it must have been like. The morning after you moved in, the words he said to you before he left the house, the worried look in his eyes. The words, "It's not safe here at night" and "It's not something negotiable". It all made sense. It was because there was a precedent. That's why he was so on edge.

You knew why he would blame himself for this, blaming himself to the point of all those years of insomnia. You could totally understand how traumatic such a loss could be and the impact it could have on his life.

"How I called home that night and no one answered, countless calls, texts, no one replied. It wasn't normal. My parents, especially my mother, would never not answer my calls. So I knew something must have happened. It was raining heavily that night, heavier than any other night. When I got home and saw the half-shut door, and the blood on the floor… Mom and Dad collapsed in a pool of blood, the broken phone in Mom's hand… I… I didn't know what to do. I sat there paralysed, my brain felt like it had stopped working, and I forgot to even call the police. I just sat there in place for ten minutes, listening to the sound of rain and thunder in the background, lightning illuminating the scene inside the house every now and then……"

"Stop it, Minho… Stop talking about it……"

You didn't want him to go back to those painful memories. But his grip on your hand tightened a little more, signaling you to let him continue. He knew what he was doing, he wanted to tell you.

"I wanted to forget those images, to never think about them again for the rest of my life if I could. But after that… Every time I hear rain, thunder… The images of that night still come back to me. Y/N…Y/N…… before you……. I, I didn't want to bother you this morning, after all these years I've pulled through on my own… But, but by the time it started thundering in the evening, I called you and you didn't answer… That moment I …… I didn't even know what to do. You went out without a bodyguard, and I didn't hear from you all day, and I thought, I thought you….. Y/N…I was just really scared. But thankfully, thankfully you're okay…… You're still right in front of me, you're breathing, you're alive, you……"

His other hand reached out and rested on your cheek, his thumb rubbing over your tear-soaked skin, wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes. "You came back to me… You didn't leave me…… My Y/N…"

He said you were 'his'. Your breath hitched. He had no idea how much those words affected you.

"If I could, I'd like to have you with me every rainy night from now on, like this……"

He moved closer, his pupils trembling slightly, but his gaze never left your eyes.

"To keep gazing at you like this, to get lost in your eyes, to forget everything else, to forget all those painful memories, to just look at you and let you be the only one left in my mind…"

He came closer, you could even feel his breath hitting your cheeks. He was so close, you had never felt him as close as he was now, despite the countless hugs you had already had. It made your heart beat ever faster as your pupils dialated.

"Minho…" you called out his name, unable to utter a single word other than that.

Only now he snapped out of it a little, taking a sharp breath before backing up a little and pulling away from you.

You had to admit, there was a slight feeling of disappointment in your heart at that moment. But perhaps it was better not to continue. Otherwise you would never have been able to stop the feelings in your heart again.

"You're so wet…… I mean, you're covered in rain." He tried to change the subject, and the words that came out only made the atmosphere between you even more delicate. "Didn't you bring an umbrella with you when you left the house? How come you're so drenched? Did you run straight back just now? In that heavy rain?"

It then occurred to you that you were indeed drenched to the bone, from the time you got back until now.

"So… Should I go and change?" You observed his expression and spoke hesitantly.

"No… no need… I'll just get a towel, you stay here."

"Are you okay? It's still raining outside…"

He paused for a moment, then smiled.

"Is it? I didn't even notice."

You were still sitting on the edge of your bed sorting out the information you had just gathered when Minho returned from the bathroom. You didn't realize he had come until he put a towel on your head.

"Did you completely miss what I was just saying?" He asked, speaking up.

You shook your head a little embarrassed, you really hadn't heard anything just now. Didn't even know he had spoken.

"It's fine, I was just asking what you were thinking. With a look like that, you weren't thinking about that Hwang kid again, were you?" He asked a little sourly.

You were thinking about Minho, Hyunjin's face didn't even appear for a second. But he thought you were thinking about Hyunjin. And with this sour tone, was he jealous? The thought surprised you a little.

"I was thinking about you…" You replied in a whisper after a moment of silence. The reply made him smile in satisfaction.

"You'd better be thinking of me." With those words, he knelt beside you, reached out and took the towel that was resting on your head in his hand and began to gently wipe your soaked hair.

The atmosphere was fairly normal at first, he was just drying your hair. Although you did gesture that he could let you do it yourself, he insisted on drying it himself, saying that it would allow him to focus on you rather than the rain outside the window. You thought it made sense and agreed.

But when he started wiping other places, the atmosphere between you started to get a bit strange.

Perhaps it was because you still hadn't gotten over the way you felt when you were so close to him earlier, your heart was still beating a little too fast and your mind kept buzzing. His silhouette loomed over you, and even when you tried to distract yourself, you were completely unable to do so.

His hands were warm as they traced over your slightly cold skin, causing you to let out a little moan.

At that sound, his movements stalled as his breathing stopped.

"What, are you horny for me right now?"

Perhaps his subconscious trying to act tough took over when he said such a weird sentence. Only your heartbeat was too loud, so loud that it drowned out the sound of his words. But you could tell by his expression what kind of sentence he had uttered. But your body froze, your eyes went blank, and you didn't know what to do in response.

The reaction read as distractedness in his eyes. He had said such an embarrassing sentence, but he had been anticipating a response, but you hadn't heard it. He dropped his hand from holding the towel, swallowed as his Adam's apple slid up and down. As if making some kind of decision, he looked up at you after taking your hand in his other and spoke again, this time with all the sincerity in his eyes.

"I mean… If you want…… I can help you…… Do you want me to? Y/N?"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. You had little experience in relationships, but if you understood him correctly, his question, as subtle as it was, meant…… He's inviting you, to have sex with him?

You swallowed and chose to ask again, just in case you hadn't heard correctly, "What did you say?"

He didn't answer right away, his eyes retracted from looking at yours and turned to the gap between your legs. He pressed his lips together, as if he was making some kind of decision. After what felt like a long time, yet also felt like just a second, Minho slowly placed his right hand on your knee.

Your eyes never left him, taking everything in. Now you understood completely what he was asking.

Seeing no resistance from you, Minho slowly slid his hand between your legs, fondling the sensitive skin of your inner thighs along the way. His fingers left warm traces where they had touched, sending shivers down your spine. Your breathing intensified as you bit your lips, trying to hold back a moan.

"I'm asking you…for permission."

You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the words and not on the strange sensation between your legs. But you who not so long ago was talking sense to Hyunjin, felt as if you had lost your words at the moment. Your mind went blank, unable to make anything but the sound of heavy breathing.

"I won't be able to hold back any longer if you don't answer me right now."

His words were like whispers of the devil, tempting you to eat the forbidden fruit. Your eyes misted up, not knowing if it was because of his words or because you felt something, and you murmured softly, "Then don't…"

His movements stalled as he looked up at you with slight disbelief. His Adans apple bobbed again at the sight of your flushed cheeks and unfocused eyes at his movements.

"What?"

You gritted your teeth and blinked, your brow furrowing slightly as you felt the strange sensation of unease in your lower half. You reached out and took his hand, still hovering on your inner thigh, and placed it where you wanted him most.

"I said…… don't hold back."

It was still pouring outside, the sound of rain falling on the window still stimulating Minho's nerves. If it were any other day, he would have been shivering under the sheets, but at this moment he felt like he had left everything behind, his eyes, his mind, only you were in there.

But at that very moment, a loud thunderclap fell.

He immediately closed his eyes, his breath hitched, and he felt his thoughts being taken back to that night…

Then, he felt something warm on his cheeks all of a sudden.

Opening his eyes, he saw you. It was your hand, your gentle hand cupping his face. Your eyes were fixed on him, and there was seriousness and pain in them besides lust. Your fingertips rubbed over his cheek, tracing it gently as your lips parted lightly.

"Minho…look at me. Don't think about anything else, look at me. Trust me. I won't leave you."

Look at you, trust you, you won't leave him.

The words seemed to kill the last of his sanity, and all hesitation disappeared as he drew in a shuddering breath of cold air.

"You're driving me crazy……"

With those words, his fingers make a slight effort to draw a few circles around your clit through your panties. Tender and seductive, making you want more. Your crotch fiddled upwards, silently craving more of his caresses. But he laughed.

"We're in no hurry…let's take it slow."

His hand went to the zip of your skirt and you lifted your hips in response, together the two of you removed the obtrusive fabric.

Tossing your skirt aside, Minho's attention never left you. His hand went to your inner thigh again, only this time he didn't caress it back and forth, it just rested there. Instead, his head moved up and planted a kiss on the sensitive area. One didn't seem to be enough, as he moved up your leg little by little, his other hand not standing idle as he began to undo his own collar.

His kisses stop at the edge of your panties, never going any further than where you want him to be most. You frowned a little in displeasure, was he going to keep bullying you after all this time?

"Minho… Don't tease me……"

Feeling a smile curl his lips as they connected at the base of your thigh, you gave him a punishing squeeze with your leg.

"Foreplay is important, Y/N. Don't rush it, the night is still long. But…if you're not satisfied……" His other hand reached for the one you had propped up on the side of your body after he finished unbuttoning his shirt, pulling on it to help it find the back of his head. "I'm underneath you now, the power is yours. Your hand can make my head do whatever you want it to do."

With those words from him, your eyes darkened and you gripped his hair mercilessly, causing him to muffle a grunt. The vibrations transferred to your lower abdomen, causing you to groan out as well.

"Does it hurt?" You asked as you found your voice.

"I like it." He replied.

With each word he said, the vibrations your clit felt grew stronger and your grip on his hair grew less and less benevolent. But listening to his constant muffled grunts, and the fact that you could only see the top half of his face from your current perspective, with its undried tear stains and red eyes, it almost looked like you were the one bullying him.

He seemed out of breath, pawing at your leg and begging for mercy. You immediately let go of his hair so that he too could finally breathe properly. He was almost wet from the nose down, glistening, not knowing if it was from his saliva or your juices. It was the first time you had ever seen Minho looking so fucked out, with his eyes full of desire and gasping for air. You unconsciously swallowed, finding the scene very pleasing to the eye.

"You're so beautiful……" you blurted out the words that came into mind.

He gasped at your praise for a moment, then laughed. "Y/N…you're actually a sadist aren't you?"

You froze for a second at the term, not knowing how to reply to him, only pursing your lips as your cheeks flushed. "But you do look really beautiful right now……"

He leaned back and sat on his heels, his hands on his knees like a pretty doll. If you ignored the filth on his face.

"Want to kiss?" He asks. "I've wanted to for a long time."

At his words you realized that there hadn't even been a kiss between the two of you. It was your mouth down there that kissed him first.

"Then get up." "My legs are numb, help me."

For some reason, his simple "help me" made you feel aroused and immediately reached out and pulled him up from the floor. Minho's legs were so numb that he couldn't stand, losing his balance and dropping his entire body straight down on top of you. After feeling you underneath him, he smiled and sighed, as if laughing at your impatience.

"Wipe your mouth, it's dirty."

You didn't want to taste yourself.

"It's not dirty at all."

He wrapped his arms around the back of your neck and kissed up forcefully.

You'd imagined what your first kiss with Lee Minho would be like. A stolen kiss in the film room, a goodbye kiss before leaving the house, a goodnight kiss before going to bed, you'd thought of all sorts of scenarios. Only nothing like this. Violent, forceful, erotic and yet so deeply emotional.

His tongue probed your lips, tracing the shape of them, then eased in deeper. You struggled to respond to him, entwining your tongue with his. Neither of you could be said to be skilled kissers, but at the moment, more than skill, emotion prevailed.

He reached one hand to the back of your head, his fingers thrusting into your hair and pulling you closer to him.

It was the first time you had touched each other like this, getting to know each other like this. It didn't feel like it; it was as if he knew your body so well that every movement made you shiver. After the kiss was over, he didn't leave your body immediately, but lowered his head and began sucking on the sensitive spot under your ear, his lips rubbing against the sensitive skin as hot breaths rushed out of his nose and patted the back of your ear, you couldn't help but moan out.

His other hand didn't stay unoccupied either, sliding straight down to your hip and picking your whole body up tightly on his strong, powerful thighs. After leaving countless kisses on your ears, neck, collarbone and chest, he was finally satisfied and buried his face in your chest, breathing in your scent greedily. You couldn't do anything but breathe heavily as he kissed you into oblivion. Your hands on his shoulders continued to tremble as well.

"Don't you think this shirt is a bit in the way too?"

You couldn't manage a complete sentence, but you nodded your head after some thought. After getting your permission, Minho helped you take your top off, while starting to stare at your bra in awe.

"I didn't know I was going to… I didn't wear a set today……"

You thought he was concerned about that and squeezed out those two lines in a bit of a panic. But he frowned at that. "I was just thinking that you probably don't have too much attachment to a bra, do you?"

"What?"

"I want to rip it off."

He leaped forward like a tiger trying to execute the action, only for you to step in and stop him.

"You'll have to take your clothes off too. Shirt and pants, all of them."

At those words, Minho felt his dick harden between his thighs and his sanity, which was not much left, disappeared into thin air. But even so, he obediently began to undress. Starting with his shirt, he unbuttoned his shirt one by one, the first few with patience, and then he started pulling it off with brute force directly after. You felt sorry for his ridiculously expensive clothes, but at the same time you wanted him to take them off faster so that you could get back to business as soon as possible.

Minho revealed his fit body as he undid his shirt. Gorgeous pecs along with a six-pack all on display, you couldn't help but swallow hard. His nipples were already hard from the friction earlier and were standing on his chest proudly. You couldn't wait to tug on them and turn them pink. The thought of how good he would sound made your lower body start to leak even more, soaking your panties.

You probably were a sadist, like Minho said.

The sound of Minho pulling his belt out of his trousers pulled you back from your own imagination. Your eyes move down to his poorly hidden tent. You could see his shape even through his trousers. He definitely wasn't small, at least average length. That said, you've only ever seen a man's genitals in videos, having no recollection of the night with Hyunjin, so this was the first time you were going to see the real thing. You continue to stare at his movements, anticipating him to hurry up and pull down his trousers.

You wondered if he was doing it on purpose, as if he was teasing you, tempting you, his pace grew slower. Only taking them off little at a time, keeping an eye on your expression. Seeing you staring at his spot with undivided attention, he licked his lips with excitement, where the taste of you still seemed to linger.

"I've shown you my chest, aren't you going to take your bra off?"

"I thought you were going to rip it off."

He grinned, "I'd rather see you rip it off yourself."

"I kinda like this bra." Although you were still arguing back and forth with him, your hands obediently reached up to your chest and unhooked your bra, revealing your perky breasts. Like him, you kept an eye on his expression. After seeing his gaze go straight to it, followed by a downward swallowing motion, you tossed your bra casually to the side in a pile of clothes. "You're hard."

He'd pulled his trousers down just in time too, leaving the two of you with nothing more than your underwear on. He crawled in your direction, his hand on your back, his eyes shifting from your breasts to the spot between your legs. "You're wet, too."

Not knowing what strange desire for victory was stirred up, you quickly replied. "I'm wet because you licked me. You got hard like that from just hearing my voice and seeing my boobs."

With that said you reached out and placed your hand on his bulge. Thumb and forefinger stroking it gently, teasing, causing him to suck in a breath and tighten his grip on your back.

"I told you… You're driving me crazy…… It's your fault I'm like this……" A drop of sweat slid down his forehead, sliding from the tip of his nose to his lips. There was no longer any emotion in his eyes other than desire. "It's your fault, you're responsible for fixing this…… with your hands, your mouth, your…… there."

Not wanting to hear any more of his lewd words like that, you closed your eyes and leaned forward, kissing his wordy mouth. Your hand moved up from his bulge as well, tugging at the side of his briefs to pull them down. Losing the friction on his member, he grunted in displeasure, swallowed by your kiss. Seeing that he has no intention of lifting his bottom to cooperate with you, you frown a little in annoyance and reach your hand behind him to slap him on the ass. It was not a weak hit, it was probably gonna go red there. He obviously wasn't expecting you to be so dominant all of a sudden, and with a grunt of defeat, he obediently lifted his hips to allow you to pull the front section of his long-soaked briefs down his thighs.

Realizing you'd hit a little too hard, you ended the kiss, that hand running up his hip, rubbing it soothingly. "Was that too much? I'm sorry…I should have asked you first……"

"That hurt……" The complaint had a slight pout to it, sounding both a little out of place and at the same time appropriate coming from his mouth.

He had pressed almost his weight against you as you kissed. The grip on your back is becoming more and more like a support. At this point it was like you were completely reversed and he was the one who looked like he was going to be pinned down. "You really like to make me suffer don't you……"

Your other hand went upwards to his cheek, your thumb gently touching his flushed skin. "Did I cause you pain? …… I'm sorry…I didn't know I'd just-"

He suddenly lowered his head and kissed you. It was a sloppy kiss, not a deep one, more as if to interrupt you.

"Don't say you're sorry…… I like it. If it's coming from you…such pain……" He whispered into your ear, making it sound even more erotic, more seductive. "But right now, I want to fix the pain here more than anything……"

He finds your hand and places it on the now uncovered member. You felt the warmth of it in your hand as your pulse sped up.

It was hot, really hot……

"With my hand? Do you have any lubricant?"

You asked a very real question.

Minho froze for a moment. Seeming to notice the problem as well, sanity returned to his head for the moment.

"I do have lube… But…… I don't have any condoms."

You blinked. "You don't have condoms at your house? Haven't you been here with other people……"

He shook his head blankly, his cheeks flushing slightly as if he was about to admit something a little humiliating. "Haven't done it around here…the last time I had sex was four years ago……"

I made sense when you thought about it, he did have more important issues to deal with in those four years than his sexual desires. How could a man who couldn't even sleep think about having sex with someone else? And so you didn't delve into it. But then he picked out the unpleasant words from what you had just said. "And Y/N…it's not "my" house. It's "our" house."

You couldn't help but smile at his somewhat adorable statement and nodded quickly. "Okay, our house." But the problem was still unresolved, even though you knew the reasons behind it. You ran your hand over his member back and forth, smearing the fluid that spilled from his tip onto the shaft as temporary lubrication. "So… what now? I don't want to get pregnant yet…… I don't have any birth control either……"

You could see that he was trying to ignore the pleasure in his lower body, trying to think about this somewhat ridiculous but realistic question. Your other hand that was stroking his cheek moved, your thumb tracing over his lower lip to get his attention.

"It's okay, Minho…… it's only our first night. I'll just use my hands."

He seemed a little disappointed, his lower lip nudging up unconsciously. He was running out of options. Failing to think as the pleasure in his lower body was too intense for him to distract himself from.

You leaned over and kissed the tip of his nose, sliding your other hand down his shaft and finding his balls that had obediently settled on the bed, holding them in your hand and playing with them a bit. It was nice to hear the sounds he couldn't hold back, knowing how much you were affecting him.

"Though you've got quite enough precum to use as lube, go get it anyways, will you?"

He nodded and reluctantly left your touch, slowly making his way up from the bed in the direction of the nightstand, pulling open the first drawer and taking a small bottle of lubrication before handing it to you. Although the disappointment in his eyes was still there, there was more excitement and anticipation at this point.

You opened the small bottle and poured some of the lubricant into your hand. The liquid was a little cool as you drew in a breath of cold air and rubbed it into your hand. It was cold even on your relatively insensitive hand, how would it feel to put it directly on his private parts? Once the liquid has warmed up a little, your hand reached for the hard, slightly swollen cock again. Before touching it, you looked up at Minho. "It's a bit cold, are you okay with that?" He nodded instantly, like he couldn't wait any longer, fiddling his lower body upwards a few times. You smiled, your roles were really reversed.

"We're in no hurry…let's take it slow…..right?"

He couldn't help but blush as he heard his words being returned to him exactly as they were.

"You told me not to tease you…but now you're teasing me ……" He moved closer to you, reaching out and wrapping his arms around your torso, his head resting sideways against your chest so you wouldn't see the look on his face at that moment. Your unlubricated hand reached for the back of his head and scratched it soothingly, a chuckle escaping your lips. He was just about to grunt in displeasure when he was startled by the sudden coolness he felt on his member, and the grunt turned straight into a moan. "Cold……"

"Didn't I tell you it was a little cold? But look, it won't feel cold in a second." You smoothed down his shaft, the lube warmed almost instantly by his burning member. "Feel good?"

He didn't answer with anything but a moan. The part of his brain that organised language had about gone on strike. After a few strokes, his moans grew louder as his muscles began to tighten up. Like he was about to climax, he started a light shudder, his grip on your waist tightening and his breathing becoming erratic.

"Y/N…slow down …… I'm going to…" He seemed a little anxious, tapping your back as if he wouldn't be able to hold back if you didn't.

You heard his words but didn't comply, instead, you sped up.

"It's okay, Minho…no need to hold back any longer."

He tried to remedy, but though his brain, overrun by intense pleasure, thought that, he couldn't make any real movements. Finally, with a muffled grunt and a whimper immediately following, he came. The cum landed on your stomach and lower abdomen, running down to your private parts. You hastily wiped it off with the blanket, not caring if the blanket was worth a few hundred million won.

Your breasts were covered in the sweat dripping off his forehead, and with the sighs and harsh breaths of his post-orgasm, you felt a little itchy there. You tried to move away, but instead of relaxing after his orgasm, his hands held tighter. You knew that men were at their most vulnerable after an orgasm, and after a moment of agonising decided to leave things as they were for now. Your hand on the back of his head travelled down the nape of his neck to his back, patting it gently to help calm him down.

He stayed like that in your arms for a few minutes. You didn't know how long it had been since he'd had his last orgasm, but it had been several minutes since he'd came and still he hasn't eased up. It must've been a long time.

It wasn't your turn yet, but you were actually quite satisfied already. If he wanted to end it there, or just fall asleep, you'd honestly have no problem with that. But just as you were thinking that, he spoke up.

"How humiliating… I just finished like that……"

You felt a little amused to hear that. You thought he was thinking about something else, but it turns out he was really worried about this.

"It's not your fault …… You haven't had an orgasm in a while, have you?"

He nodded in your arms.

"It's been a few months…… work is busy…and with you at home, I'm afraid to……"

He sounded a little resigned when he said this, not at all like the CEO of one of the top ten companies in Korea. When in your arms and by your side, he was simply a normal young man in his twenties.

"What about you? How long has it been since you've had sex?"

He left your embrace suddenly and looked at you with sincere eyes. It seemed as if the question was very important to him.

You felt a little awkward getting asked this question. Your mind had to go back to Hyunjin again. Minho saw this expression on your face and his expression darkened. He knew that look all too well. It was the same look you had every time you mentioned Hyunjin.

"I can't remember what happened that night…but, it was about two months before I met you? I got drunk and went out with Hyunjin……"

Minho's tongue pushes up against his cheek, visibly upset at hearing Hyunjin's name. You then realize that you haven't told him about meeting Hyunjin at the cafe earlier.

"By the way…Minho, Hyunjin came to see me today."

Hearing those words, anger flared up in Minho's eyes, which were already irritated.

"Came to see you? He came in person? In the pouring rain?" You nodded, "That kid……"

"But I've told him to leave. I turned him down. Rejected him very clearly. Minho…he's never coming back again."

"What do you mean? He's so…obsessed with you. What did you say?"

'I told him I love you,' you wanted to say, but the words got stuck in your mouth as you were too embarrassed to say them. You just blushed.

He cocked his head curiously at the look on your face. He waited for a long time but didn't get your next word.

You knew Minho was fond of you. Otherwise he wouldn't be in bed with you so intimately as he was now. But "love" is a heavy word. You were still not sure if he felt "love" for you or not. You didn't want him to feel the pressure of having to 'love' you too, just because you had taken the liberty of saying the word first.

"I… he's not going to bother us anymore. You're probably never going to see him again in your life. He won't want to see you in his life either, I can guarantee that."

He sneered, the CEO feeling returning a little. "I don't think he'd dare either. I'd definitely beat him up if I saw him. How dare he try to steal my fiancée? That little brat."

Not wanting to see him ruin his mood because of Hyunjin, you hurriedly reached out and patted his face to get his attention.

"Stop thinking about him, Minho," you said as you parted your legs and pulled your panties down to reveal your private parts. "Think of me, look, you've already come once, but I haven't. Don't you think it's a bit unfair?"

The gesture did succeed in getting his attention. Not only did his eyes go straight, but the member between his legs, which had gone soft earlier, perked up again. He crawled between your legs and switched to a kneeling position, his hand reaching for your crotch somewhat awkwardly, only to have you slap it away.

"Use your mouth."

Hearing your somewhat commanding words, he could think of nothing else, and swallowed with some excitement before obediently lowering his head and reaching for your private parts. Without the obstruction of your panties, every breath he drew was now actually hitting your skin. His hands unconsciously dragged down both of your legs and his whole face was buried between them.

Tentatively, he stuck out his tongue and licked the head of your clit, then kissed it. You shuddered and gasped. Having had his first experience of tasting you, he licked his lips and, no longer focusing only on the top part, his tongue probed downwards, making its way to your vagina. His tongue pushes into your pussy, mimicking the action of intercourse as he moves in and out. His nose still pressed against your clit, the dual stimulation of his tongue nudging it against your clit with each move caused you to cover your mouth.

He heard your slightly indistinct moans and knew what you were doing, one hand reaching up to grab your wrist and pull it from your mouth. But he didn't just want to hear your moans. He placed your hand on the back of his head. Then his tongue left your pussy and lifted his head slightly before he said in a voice you could barely hear, "Make me hurt."

By the time you came back to your senses, all that came to your ears was his cries of pleasure. Your hands tug mercilessly at his hair, forcing him to resist your strength in order to continue to bring you pleasure. It was as if he wanted to make you feel good even though it caused him pain.

He gripped the sheets with one hand, the other matching his tongue as it ravished your hole together, going deeper and deeper. Probing around, he inadvertently found your G-spot. Minho knew it was different, it was a little hard and stimulating it made your moans higher in pitch. He then stimulated the spot, pushing his finger harder against it in spite of it.

As you enjoyed the pleasure, another desire erupted in your head. The desire to tell him what you really thought, the desire to tell him that you loved him.

You wanted to leave all your hesitations behind and face him with your true self, without hiding anything. He has informed you of his deepest and most painful memories and shared them with you. How could you do this to him? How could you not tell him what you thought?

The more you thought about it, the more it made sense, and with your head spinning, you softly uttered, "I love you …… I told him…I love you ……"

He stopped his movements for a moment, thinking he had misheard. But he didn't stop moving for long, and after just a few moments he started pushing harder again, causing you to cry out in pleasure. The pleasure built up and eventually, with a near screaming moan, you came.

He gasped and left your legs, his whole face flushed and his breath unsteady. You weren't much better, letting go of his hair and then throwing your head back to catch your breath, trying to find your sanity.

You felt Minho scoot forward and wrap his arms around your neck, his cheek resting next to yours. It was then that you heard the irregularity in his breath. And at that moment, the tears that dripped down your shoulder confirmed your suspicions.

"Why are you cry-" "I love you too."

Your eyes widened as you felt your heart skip a beat.

"I love you…I love you…… I, how could I love you so much…… Y/N…… My Y/N… I love you, I love you…… Don't leave me……"

He was spilling his heart out to you again. This was the second time this night. You were still holding each other the same way, not even the gestures had changed much. Only this time the words weren't as heartbreaking as the earlier ones, only this time they were blissful words that made you happy. But the blissful words brought tears to your eyes. You couldn't describe in words how you were feeling at the moment. You just felt so good to be able to say it. It was so wonderful to know that his heart felt the same as yours.

"Shhh…Minho…take a deep breath…… I'm not going anywhere, I'm here. Right here with you. I'm all yours now, body and soul."

He lifted his head slightly and leaned back a bit, looking into your loving eyes as he spoke slowly, his tone full of disbelief. "Growing up, I've never asked for anything, ever, you're the only one I've come to hope for. But…can I really have hopes? Can I really? How can you love me like I am, all flawed, bad natured and always making you angry, weepy and fragile, a coward who has panic attacks over a tiny ring and is afraid of ridiculous things like thunder and rain……?"

You leaned forward to kiss him on the eye. All the way down from eyes to nose, from nose to lips. You took his bottom lip like you were treating the most precious treasure in the world. After a long moment, you released him, staring into his eyes, and whispered, "You always love to tease me and act tough in front of me. But underneath that mask of being the CEO of the Lee Corporation that you wear for outsiders, is a sensitive and gentle boy called Lee Minho, who is kind and funny. I've never met anyone like him, someone I could go from hating to loving. He's hurt, he's incomplete, he's got his fangs out for outsiders, and that's only because he's been hurt. That isn't the real him. What do you think? He just can't show that side of himself to everyone yet. You know what? My biggest wish right now is for that boy, Lee Minho, to see himself the way I see him. I wish he could see the shine in himself too. To be able to love himself as much as I love him and accept love from others."

You took a deep breath and cupped his face.

"It must be exhausting for him after all this hard work for so long. I want to tell him that he has done a great job. Now, it's time to relax, time to rest. Try to love yourself, even if it's hard. At least let me love you and not push me away. Accept me and we can take it slow. Just remember that I love you, Minho, I love you. Is that okay?"

He looks you in the eye with a smile you've never seen before, a beautiful smile. Obsidian-like eyes that twinkled with starlight. He nodded gently and continued to gaze at you tenderly.

"You love me."

"That's right, I love you."

"You are mine."

"That's right, I'm yours."

"Y/N…"

"Mmm?"

"I love you so much…"

Your lips pressed together once more.

That night you fell asleep together cuddled together, skin to skin, his arms wrapped around you, enveloping you in his body. His hand holding yours, fondling the engagement ring on your middle finger, whispering "I love you" in your ear as if he couldn't say it enough.

When you woke up the next day, you were still in the same position.

You woke up a little before he did and sat up to look out of the window. The sun was high in the sky and the sound of birds chirping could be heard in the distance. You knew that from today onwards, and for the rest of your life, you would have someone with you who you loved, and who loved you.

When you finished washing up and went back to bed again, Minho was awake too. He stretched out like a kitten, rubbing his eyes before looking at you and smiling. You tossed him his clothes and told him to get dressed before getting out of bed, and he teased you at first, but eventually obediently slipped on his shirt and briefs.

"Come here, Y/N, I want a cuddle…"

"Have you always been this clingy? Or is it just because of what happened last night?" Despite saying that, you obeyed his words all the same, going to sit down next to him and wrapping your arms around his neck.

He closed his eyes comfortably, enjoying your intimacy. "You'd better get used to it now, I'll be clinging to you for the rest of my life."

How wonderful would that be? To be by your loved one's side forever is something you've never wished for before. And now there he was, right in front of you, saying such romantic things. You still couldn't believe it, such a feeling of full happiness was something you never wanted to lose in your life.

Once the hug was over, he took your right hand and left a brief kiss on your ring, then looked up at you.

"I'll definitely find another opportunity to propose to you, formally, Y/N."

You froze for a moment and then smiled, "I forgot we weren't married until you mentioned."

He smiled back at that reply, interlocking his fingers with yours and resting his forehead against yours.

The position was exactly the same as last night when you first returned, but only ten hours later, your state of mind and your relationship, the level of intimacy, was completely different. You closed your eyes, wishing that this moment could be forever preserved in your memory.

"Going forward, nights with you will never be lonely again."

END

I seriously can't believe this is over... why am I kinda sad rn...

tag list: @helpsplease @fight-me-m8 @qtieskz @yubinism @ateez-babygirl @skzooo @chanstresour @aerastus @my-dark-happy-place @otwo @skylar27 @owls-and-stars @stay-here-dont-stray @analusanchez @cucu-skks @yoshiunova @lixielv @nctdom @endzii23 @lachimolalas-posts @xcookiemonsteer @chaoticroadwobblerhoagie @hyunjun-jpeg

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ackermanslov4r · 2 years

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hey bestieeeee, i love your work let me tell you omg. anyways… i’ve been having this idea in my head about levi AND IT WONT LEAVE ITS SO AHHHH. anyway i was wondering if you could write a fluffy little fic about levi proposing to the reader in the rain. personally i feel like there would be lead up to it just him stressing about when to do it and how but he just sees the reader and just decides it’s the time. AHHHH ANYWAY NO PRESSURE OR ANYTHING JUST HAVE FUN AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF <3333

THIS THIS RIGHT HERE IS AMAZING!! i hope i did your ideal well 😔😔

Levi had experienced many stressful situations ,but nothing compared to how he felt about proposing to you. He'd been thinking about it for months ; which was unexpected when you thought about the fact that,before meeting you,Levi had been completely opposed to the idea of getting married. Some parts of him still had doubts , as he wasn't sure exactly what was the difference between a regular couple and a married couple ; but marriage seemed so important to you,and he couldn't help but feel flustered just thinking about being your husband.

He'd just never thought about how the whole process would be stressful . He'd stressed over which ring to get , stressed about you not liking the jewel, and above all,the main reason of his currently anxious state, was how and when to propose. He'd tried,the past months,many times,but had never felt like it was the right moment ; or he'd just backed off because of fear and insecurities. His behaviour didn't go out of notice as you frequently asked him what kept him in such state of alert.

"Levi,you're zoning out again. Just tell me if my story isn't interesting." you chuckled,suddenly interrupting Levi's thoughts. He'd been so entrenched in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed rain had started to fall.

"We should go home now , it looks as if a storm is coming." With a nod,he approved,still half lost in his thoughts as his hands played with the ring's box inside of his pocket. He'd been carrying it everywhere since he'd bought it , waiting for the right moment,afraid it might never happen. He knew you wouldn't reject him ; the years you'd spent waiting for him before he could finally be able to get in a relationship had showed him how deep your love was ; but some tiny little voice inside his brain couldn't stop himself from fearing rejection.

Rain began to poor more and more violently, wetting your clothes in a few seconds,and Levi suddenly regretted not taking an umbrella or his cape. The two of you hurried off,almost running now,to get to a place to cover yourself until rain stopped falling. Levi was behind you,making sure you didn't slipped on a puddle and hurt yourself.

"Okay,wait,just a sec,let me catch my breath." you suddenly mumbled,stopping so quickly Levi almost ran into you and knocked you off. Hands on your knees,wet hair falling over your face,you bent down,taking deep breaths as Levi looked at you and felt this usual wave of love he experienced whenever he had some time to simply observe you. If he could just spend the rest of his life looking at you,not doing anything else,he'd be the happiest man on earth. And,with that thought came the courage he'd been trying to gather for months.

"Y /n ." he called, as he walked to you.Your eyes met his,and for a second he forgot everything that surrounded him ; his solely existence being only you. He opened his mouth,closed it,and then, with a quick look at the dirty and wet ground,decided to throw away the idea that you needed to have a knee on the ground to propose. His hand ruffled inside his pocket for the ring as he began to talk again :

"You know that I'm not good with words or with relationship in general but...I want you to know that my care for you is real. Even if I could voice my feelings ,I wouldn't be able to phrase the ones I have for you,because they can't be put into words. This is why..." He finally managed to get the ring out,earning a small gasp of surprise for you. "I know I'm not the perfect man,and that being with me isn't always a pleasure...But, Y/n, will you still make me the honour of marrying me ?"

With the rain,Levi couldn't really say if it was tears or raindrops that fell from your eyes ; but,as you nodded and smiled at him,smiled at him as if he was the only person on earth,as if he was the best person out of all the others ; as you smiled at him like that,the thought disappeared from his head. He didn't know who had leant forward and kissed the other first either, or when exactly he'd passed the ring on your finger ; all that he knew was that it was the happiest mess he'd ever experienced.

"I really thought you would never ask." you finally said,each words punctuated by a kiss. "I've seen you hanging on that ring for months and I seriously began to wonder what it looked like." The look on his face made you laugh,a sound like a ray of sunshine peering through the rain. "I know you too much to not notice these sort of thing,Levi.But ,even if you don't have any secrets for me anymore,I still can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

#attack on titan #levi ackerman headcanons #levi ackerman #aot hcs #levi headcanons #captain levi #anime #levi aot #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman oneshot #levi imagine #levi ackerman x reader hc #levi hc #levixreader

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starlessea · 3 years

Text

𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙥 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙖𝙨 - Prologue 0. Closing Time

Series Masterlist: Step on the Gas

Summary: A dishonourable discharge from the military results in you being hauled off to live with your grandparents in the boonies, otherwise known as the middle of nowhere Georgia. After running over a nail on the road, and pushing your grandpa's vintage Camaro to the nearest auto-shop, you meet Daryl Dixon - the local mechanic. At some point, the world ends, but that stubborn man never gives you a chance to slow down. His smile gives you whiplash, but he still insists that you to step on the gas.

Words: 6286

Chapter Warnings: Language, Injury

The sky was empty — save for one bird.

Daryl watched it fly above him, so close to the ground that he could make out the beating of its wings and swore he saw individual feathers flutter in the breeze.

His fingers itched over his crossbow, as he contemplated shooting it down from the sky and plucking it clean. He'd have something to eat then, at least. Though, for some reason, Daryl Dixon couldn't bring himself to let loose his arrow, watching as the bird soared overhead — and disappeared beyond the trees.

The man sighed as he kicked up some loose stones with the toe of his boot. What a waste, he thought, before trudging through the field once again.

The sky remained cloudless for the rest of the day, existing as a pale, washed-out grey that made Daryl feel uncomfortable as he hunted. The game must have felt the same, since the deer he'd been tracking made itself scarce, and the string of squirrels hanging from his belt seemed no heavier than it had done when the sun rose that morning.

Still, he trekked onwards over the thick, winding grass and through damp forest overgrowth. He was nearly back at the quarry already, but he hardly had anything to show for it. A few measly rodents and a sprained ankle were barely worth his trip in the first place; they sure as hell wouldn't be enough for all of the mouths he now had to feed.

Daryl cursed at himself for hesitating to shoot that bird straight out of the sky, and clip its wings. It wasn't much, but maybe it would have lasted a day if he was lucky. Still, there was no use wondering now, since it had swooped so close to him that he almost felt the downward draft on his cheek — and then he let it fly away.

He thought that it had been a jaeger; it definitely looked like a seabird that had veered too far from the shore. It was a gull with a white breast and dark, blackish feathers — and a wingspan that made sure you couldn't miss it.

He remembered you pointing one out to him, at 3am, parked up on that deserted beach as the two of you stared out into the rocking ocean.

"Ya thinkin' 'bout 'er again, baby brother?"

Daryl could hear Merle's voice taunt, in the deepest, darkest corners of his thoughts.

"Tha' lil' birdie of yours?"

He quickly shook his head — even though it was the truth.

It had been Daryl's own mind that conjured up those words, after all. Merle wasn't actually here. He was probably back at the campsite, lazing about and leering after women far too good for a beaten-up redneck like him.

Though, funnily enough, Merle had said the exact same thing to Daryl when he noticed his gaze settling over the new bar server, who swiped away the froth spilling over from their draught beers. Merle had given him even more of an earful when he realised that his younger brother was waiting for her shift to end.

Daryl took a deep breath, before rolling his neck to try and relieve the tension that had built up there. Once his mind drifted into thoughts of you — even if only for a split second — it often sank to the point of no return.

You were all consuming; you had been from the first time he laid eyes on you in that old, country auto-repair shop.

He remembered the way your voice chirped like a bird's, despite the curses that often fell from your lips.

You even made those sound sweet.

And he could also recall the way you yelled over the rumble of his bike engine, and competed with the screeching that came from his tyres losing their grip on the worn-out tarmac.

You'd told him that it felt like you were flying — and that was probably the reason why Daryl Dixon couldn't shoot that jaeger.

Then, the man heard something louder than he had done since the world ended — and suddenly, the sky was no longer empty.

There was an explosion, and that dull greyness was set alight with brilliant hues of red and orange. It made fire start to rain down upon Daryl, who could only stand and watch below. Debris fell out of the sky like a meteor shower, landing beyond the trees in the distance — to a place that Daryl couldn't quite make out, no matter how much he squinted.

The air became full with the sounds of scraping metal and flickering flames that caught the leaves and made them burn up like the end of a cigarette. Daryl felt his heart race as the adrenaline pumped its way through his veins, and made him flinch each time something crashed heavily to the ground.

There was often a moment in a person's life where their brain got kick-started into gear — and they awoke from whatever auto-pilot they'd been functioning on until that point.

For most, it was probably a mundane milestone like marriage or parenthood.

For others, it might have been a life or death situation that made them re-evaluate their perspective.

For some, it had only happened when the world actually ended, and the apocalypse began.

And perhaps, if Daryl had been a smarter man, it would have been this instant — as he gazed up at the sky and watched it burn above him. Maybe this was his second life-changing realisation; maybe he was lucky enough to get two.

But, for Daryl, the first had just been a regular Tuesday.

The garage was sticky hot that day. It was the kind of heat that made you sweat no matter how many fans you had blowing — since Old man Dean was too cheap to install air conditioning. His boss was a bit of a stickler for paying his bills, and nit picky with his nickles, but he'd always been kind to Daryl.

That being said, working as a mechanic wasn't exactly where Daryl had pictured himself at his age; but then again, he couldn't really picture himself anywhere at all. He felt like that last piece of the jigsaw puzzle, which didn't quite fit in with the others — the one that you had to bend into shape just to make it work.

Sure, he enjoyed seeing the different bikes roll in and out of the shop — those models he would never be able to afford — and Daryl appreciated having a few extra dollars in his pocket for when Merle raided his savings to score some pot.

Besides, there wasn't much else to do in the boonies. Daryl's old man once told him that the only interesting thing to rear its ugly head out of Georgia's backyard in the last fifty years was Dean's Auto Shop. That's probably why Daryl started working there in the first place, as a summer job when he was teenager — and had never really left since.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, his old man had been right about one thing — despite the bastard never catching on to the role of father. He'd been right about the shop being the only interesting thing around.

Because it was the place where he met her.

And then she became the only thing in that small town even worth being interested in.

Daryl didn't hear a car pull up into the shop, but he heard the mumbling outside from where he sat in the breakroom — chewing on some of Dean's leftover pizza that was bordering on stale.

"Dixon, get your ass out here for a second, would you?" the old man yelled, banging on the thin wall that separated them with his fist.

Daryl cursed below his breath, throwing the rest of his food into the trash and dusting off his hands over his jeans. He stepped out into the shop, and was met by an unfamiliar face — looking over at him curiously.

He suddenly felt unexplainably nervous, and dropped his head down to his feet as though it were a reflex he didn't know he had.

"This is your guy," he heard Dean say, before letting out one of his usual chesty coughs.

The man smoked a pack a day too much — and that was coming from Daryl.

"Owner of that bike you've been eyeing, too," he went on.

That caught Daryl's attention, and he instantly glanced up at the woman in question. She was breath-taking, but she also looked very much out of breath. She seemed as though she had run here, despite the Georgia heat.

"You ride?" he asked, but his gruff voice made it sound like more of a demand.

He grimaced at his own tone, but the woman didn't seem bothered by it in the slightest.

She laughed, and it sounded like nothing he'd ever heard before. "I wish," she said, running her palm along the polished metal and tracing her finger over that shiny logo.

Usually, Daryl would bark at anyone who touched his bike, and Dean seemed as though he expected him to do just that — from the way he raised an eyebrow at the daring woman, too oblivious for her own good.

Except, Daryl stayed quiet.

"Was never allowed within a mile radius of one," she went on, before turning back around to grin at Daryl like it was easy. "My folks were scared I'd take off into the sunset, never to be seen again."

He could relate to that. After all, it was exactly what he and Merle had done as soon as they'd gotten the chance.

"Mhm," he hummed back, before glancing over at the car parked in the middle of the shop. "She's pretty."

It was a steel blue colour — would definitely benefit from a lick of paint, but still pretty nonetheless. The tread looked good on the tyres, and Daryl couldn't see any signs of the rusting those models were prone to. Someone had taken good care of it.

"Excuse me?" the woman asked, and suddenly Daryl was reminded of just how bad he was with words.

He cleared his throat, and ran his hand over the hood.

"Yer car," he explained, "'69 Chevy Camaro?"

Daryl asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Oh yeah, that," she replied, sending him an apologetic look. "It's my grandpa's, so we're going to have to be real discreet about this situation over here."

Daryl raised an eyebrow as she beckoned him to the other side of the car, crouching down near the wheel arch.

"Some bastard left a nail in the road, and I ran straight through the thing like it was a stop sign," she grumbled, pointing out the puncture.

Daryl almost laughed at that — but he was still much too jaded from being caught in the middle of his break.

The woman stood back up and toed the deflated tyre with her boot, scowling at the sight of it.

"I know you're closing soon, but I had to push it half a mile just to get here," she said, and wiped her brow with the back of her hand.

Suddenly, her appearance made sense. Since he'd first laid eyes on her, all she'd done was tug at the collar of her vest, and try to stand in front of one of those poor excuses for a fan. But even then, Daryl couldn't quite believe her story.

"Ain't no way ya pushed that thing 'ere by yerself." The words left his mouth before he could consider them twice.

And the look she shot Daryl in return made him want to take them straight back.

But then, she smiled.

"I'm stronger than I look," she protested, leaning against the hot car. "You can ask the dozen assholes who catcalled me on the way but never offered their help."

This time, Daryl did let out a chuckle.

"Damn lucky y'ain't pass out," he quipped back, "heat's no joke."

She grinned again, and Daryl wondered whether she had an endless supply — or if she'd saved them just for him.

"Tell me about it," the woman teased. "Never liked visiting Georgia because of it."

Then, it all made sense to Daryl — the reason why she intrigued him so much.

"Y'ain't from 'round here, are ya?" he asked, surprising himself.

Usually, he couldn't give a 'rat's ass', as Dean called it, about anyone who stumbled into their shop. Never did they get more than a half-hearted greeting from Daryl, or a grunt as he told them to mind their head on that low door frame (she didn't have that problem). Though today, he seemed oddly talkative.

"Haven't seen ya before," he added.

The woman folded her arms over her chest.

"Would you recognise me if you had?" she asked.

"E'erybody knows e'erybody in this place," he answered. "I'd remember if I saw ya cross the street."

It was partially the truth. Daryl knew most people — but he only bothered to remember a select few.

"Moved here last week," she caved, proving him right. "I'm keeping my grandparents company watching daytime cable and doing grocery runs."

Daryl smirked. "An' runnin' over nails with their car, apparently."

"That, too," she confessed.

It was silent for a few seconds, and Daryl realised that he should probably give her a quote for the job. Though, she interrupted him before he could.

"Listen, your new neighbour would be really grateful if you could cut her a break," she said, eyeing the Camaro like she was considering whether it was even worth the hassle. "The old man's going to kill me if I come home on foot tonight."

Daryl knew what she was asking. The notice in the shop window made it clear that they'd be closing in half an hour; Daryl had been all but ready to flip the sign himself. Before she'd arrived, he'd even dared to think that he could shut early — and possibly get to crack open a cold beer and enjoy the breeze of his porch.

He sighed.

"I'll see what I can do," Daryl mumbled, "but I ain't makin' no promises," he warned — as he caught the way her eyes lit up at his words.

But that was a lie. Daryl knew he wouldn't let himself go home until it was finished.

The woman was utterly gleeful. He watched her smile much too widely for her face, and for a moment Daryl thought that she might even jump at him. But she seemed to catch herself at the last second, and abruptly stopped.

She didn't falter long, though. "Thank you, thank you so much!" she said, excitedly, before pausing to tap at her jean pockets. "I don't have any cash on me for a deposit, but I'm heading to work now."

She looked sheepish as she explained herself.

"I'll come straight back and pay in full," she added, trying her best to convince him.

Daryl narrowed his eyes like he didn't quite understand. Then he did, and he laughed properly.

"Deposit?" he asked, shaking his head. "City girl, here we jus' keep yer vehicle if ya can't pay."

The woman's expression was priceless. She looked as though she couldn't figure out whether he was joking or not, and stared at Daryl with her mouth slightly agape as she debated which it was.

He couldn't watch any longer.

"Where ya workin'?" he asked.

Then, he cursed himself for doing so. Time was ticking on, and he already had to stay overtime because of his inability to say no. Well, usually he had no problem with the word; it just seemed like it was stuck in his throat today.

"Joe's bar," she replied. "It's a few blocks over and-"

"I know Joe's bar," Daryl interrupted.

Everybody knew Joe's. It was the only place around that sold a decent draught beer. He'd been going there since he was a teenager — younger than he should have been, but old enough to know better.

"Me an' my brother go there a lot, but I ain't seen you 'round."

She nodded.

"Only started a few days ago. Hopefully they don't fire me for being late."

Daryl glanced at the clock. It was approaching his closing time and her opening one.

"Ya better get runnin', Camaro," he noted, tapping at his watch that didn't even work. "Rush hour soon."

The woman narrowed her eyes at the nickname. Daryl didn't know her real one yet, and felt like it was too late to ask for it. He'd have to catch a glimpse of Dean's log book later to find out.

"Will do," she replied with a smile. "Thanks again, Dixon."

Though Daryl couldn't quite work out how she knew his name, either.

He watched her scurry about collecting her things, and walked her to the entrance. The sun was starting to set — leaving the sky a pinkish orange that only made him squint the more he looked at it. He held the door open for the woman, and heard Dean snort from the back of the shop. But the way she thanked him made it worth the teasing.

"Take care of that sixties Honda," she winked, "she's a real beauty."

Daryl was surprised that she knew the model of his bike, considering she'd never even ridden one.

"If only ya knew," he mumbled back as he saw her off. "Will take ya for a ride one time if yer willin'."

She stopped in place. Daryl didn't know why he said that. It had just slipped from his mouth like oil from a can.

The woman laughed and rolled her eyes like she didn't believe him.

"That's what they all say."

Then, she started to jog down the street — just like she said she would — and Daryl thought her crazy for even attempting it in this midsummer Georgia weather. That woman had entered the shop like a whirlwind, and when she left Daryl couldn't remember what he'd even been doing before.

Dean cleared his throat and threw a rag at him that he barely managed to catch.

"Keep it in your pants, boy."

Daryl scowled at the man; he knew him better than that. So, he didn't give him the satisfaction of a reply, and instead got started on setting the Camaro up on a jack.

"She's a beauty, I get it," Dean went on, despite his silence. "Her type don't belong in a place like this, that's for damn sure."

Daryl had to agree with him there. He'd gotten a glimpse of his reflection in the wing mirror of her car and grimaced. He had grease on his face, and part of him cursed Dean for not telling him before he'd left the breakroom.

"But you know Mike and Doreen?" the old man asked, and Daryl nodded. "That's their granddaughter."

Daryl furrowed his brow — not realising he'd done it until he caught himself in the glass once again. Mike was a hard man, the type to straighten out any kinks in a person with brute force and that baby boomer spite.

"She may be real pretty, kid, but that one's trouble," Dean noted, confirming his suspicions.

He ignored the way he called him 'kid'. The old man still hadn't grown out of the habit — despite Daryl being well beyond his teenage years now.

"Trouble?" he repeated, like he couldn't quite comprehend the word being associated with someone like that.

Dean chuckled — but it turned into one of those coughs that made Daryl wince.

"Maybe more so than you," he said. "Got kicked out of the military, I heard."

Daryl spat at the floor, and Dean laughed again. They both hated those military dogs who often paraded through their town, looking at them as though they were trash beneath their government-issued boots.

But, if she'd been kicked out then maybe they could find some common ground.

Old man Dean wagged his finger at him, recognising Daryl's no-good expression; he'd become familiar with it by now, from all the times he'd worn it throughout the years.

"So don't go losing your head over her, Dixon," he cautioned, pretending not to know how good Daryl was at throwing caution to the wind.

"And remember to close up before you leave."

But it was too late.

Daryl had already lost his head, and his heart — but he wouldn't know that the latter was missing for a very long time.

You ran the cloth along the oak bar surface, wiping away any sticky beer rings that had been left there.

This is why we have coasters, you sighed.

It had been a slow Tuesday night, but you'd somehow still been roped into working the close. You tried to tell your boss that you were having car troubles, and had plans to stop by the garage on your way home — but he seemed to prioritise his own date over yours.

Well, you wouldn't exactly call giving the local mechanic his cheque a date; usually, you didn't have to pay for those. But you couldn't deny how it had made you feel when he smiled that smile your way — so small that you'd almost missed it — before you took off running out the door.

It gave you whiplash.

Perhaps he was just being friendly. But, then again, he didn't seem like the naturally friendly type. You shook your head, throwing the beer-soaked rag into the sink. You didn't trust that man in the slightest.

That wasn't a new development, really; you didn't trust most men. And, you often found that the ones who made your heart race like that were the worst of them all. He was trouble, that one, and you'd had enough of that to last a lifetime.

You untied the double knot of your apron, and folded it up neatly. There were a few whiskey stains on it — you'd caught a whiff of that top-shelf scent a few times now — but you were already too late to even consider putting it in the wash. Instead, you left it at the end of the bar, and swapped it out for the ring of keys lying there.

It was closing time, and you prepared yourself to run three blocks in the dark. You stepped out into the night, feeling the cool breeze on your cheek as opposed to the midday heat that had been there when your shift started. You flipped the latch and turned the key in the lock until you heard it click.

Then, you held them between your knuckles so that the jagged edge poked out.

"Ya done for the night?" a voice came from the shadows, and your heart dropped.

That brief second lasted a lifetime as the blood rushed to your ears like a strong current through running water, and your grip tightened over those keys. But then, you noticed the reflection in the glass panels of the door — and relaxed.

"Jesus, you scared the shit out of me," you scolded the man, "thought you were a dejected patron tryna jump me or something."

Perhaps he was; you still didn't know any better.

Dixon was leaning against that dingy brick wall, opposite the back door of Joe's Bar. You didn't even know what that other building was — but some sketchy figures usually loomed about it, so you tried to stay clear.

Maybe he didn't get the memo, you thought.

"Tha' happen before?" the man asked back, casually.

Though, the dim street lights overhead illuminated his face, and you caught a glimpse of his serious expression before he let it drop. He held a lit cigarette between his fingers — almost smoked down to the butt already — and it made you wonder just how long he'd been waiting for you.

"Maybe once or twice," you laughed, but it didn't sound as natural as you had intended.

You noticed the man's eyes flicker down towards the keys held between your knuckles, and you quickly slipped them into your jean pocket — hoping that he wouldn't pry. Luckily, he didn't seem like the type to unnecessarily butt into other people's business.

The smoke trailed from his lips and caught the stark light of the street lamp. He almost looked cold — bathed in that bluish tint which made those cigarette fumes seem nearly luminescent.

"You here to make sure I don't run off with your paycheck?" you teased, fishing out the wad of bills from your back pocket.

You waved them at him, and considered how precarious the situation may seem to an onlooker if they happened to pass by. The man looked as though he felt the same, since he quickly glanced over his shoulder down the alleyway — checking to make sure you were alone.

"Don't worry, Dixon, I busted my ass tonight just so I could leave you a nice tip," you said with a smile, handing the money to him.

He took it, slowly, as though he had to remind himself what it was even for.

Then, he let that cigarette butt fall to the floor, and stamped it out with his boot — before dragging it along the concrete until it was nothing but embers.

The man shook his head at you. "'M here on behalf of the welcome committee."

You snorted as you processed his words, and followed him out of that narrow alleyway into the main street.

"Bullshit," you called, "as if-"

You rounded the corner after him, and stopped. He was there, leaning against that pristine sixties Honda bike — spare helmet in hand.

It was parked up on the sidewalk, polished metal glinting in all its glory under those neon lamps. Dixon was almost camouflaged against it — his black leather jacket also speckled with white light. He held out that helmet, as if it were an invitation he was waiting for you to accept.

But he seemed shy — as though acutely aware that it was only an invite, and nothing more. So, you took it, and shook your head as you realised that it wasn't his spare helmet he had offered you; it was his only helmet.

"Said I'd take ya," he murmured, fastening the strap gently under your chin.

It was too big, so the man compensated by tying it tighter until you felt like your jaw was wired shut. But, you just smiled.

"An' I ain't no liar," he said when he was done, and kicked his leg over the bike.

Then, you sped off into the night.

You yelled over the sound of the engine for him to go faster, and laughed as you had to spit out the stray hairs that had blown into your mouth. Your clothes whipped in the wind, too, and you clung to the man in front of you as though you were afraid they might catch the draft, and make you fly away. It was electrifying; your whole body felt like pure static as you rode past shop displays and windows that made your reflections look like hazed blurs.

That whole trip felt like a hazed blur, really, because suddenly you were there.

"Where are we?" you asked, unsure of where 'there' even was. "Why'd we stop?"

You pulled the helmet from your head and cocked your leg over the bike. The man let out a chuckle at the sight of your hair, sticking up from the static — as though lightning might strike at any moment.

"Smoke break," Dixon grumbled, before coaxing out the squashed cardboard packet from his jeans. "You want one?" he asked, offering it to you.

You shook your head; you didn't smoke.

He shrugged in response, cupping his hands to his face to get a flame from his lighter. You left him to it, and turned away from the bike to catch the view.

And what a view it was, indeed.

You hadn't even noticed the sounds of the lapping ocean waves before you saw them. The cliff overlooked the beach below, desolate, with a high tide that drew the shore into you. Your grandmother had told you about this place once, on the phone a few months back as she tried to sell rural Georgia to you.

It wasn't like you were given much of a choice, anyway.

But now that you'd been shipped out here — against your will, no doubt — you had to admit that she'd been partly right. It was breath-taking. Back in the city, a place like this would be littered with beer cans and tacky, disposable barbeques within a week of someone posting about it online. Here, however, it looked untouched.

It was as though the two of you were the first to ever set foot here, on this particular crag that overlooked the waves — leaving your footprints alongside tyre treads for the next pioneers to discover.

You glanced back at Dixon over your shoulder — who was busy trying to look as though he wasn't already looking at you — and smiled.

He was one hell of a welcome committee.

Daryl almost choked on the fumes of his cigarette — letting out a cough that reminded him of the way old man Dean spluttered in the mornings. He really needed to kick that habit, he thought, and snubbed out his cigarette on the ground.

Then, you scowled at him, so he picked the butt back up and stuffed it into his pocket, grimacing at the thought of having to clean it up later.

He had been lying about the smoke break, really, but then he needed to carry out his excuse. Initially, he'd only thought about picking you up from the bar and offering you a ride back to the shop. He hadn't the slightest clue of how that plan had become this.

Somewhere along the way, Daryl might have accidentally taken a wrong turn, and ended up in the most scenic place he would think of. Stupid damn street signs, he cursed, as though he hadn't driven those roads a hundred times before.

Camaro seemed to call him out on his bluff, too, since she turned to face him and immediately shook her head.

"You're lying," she said, as though she were certain, "but the view is extraordinary, so I'll forgive you just this once."

Daryl swallowed thickly, tasting the tobacco that had made his throat so dry. For someone who claimed himself not to be a liar, that was all he seemed to be doing today.

Then, he watched you make your way towards the edge of that cliff, like you couldn't even hear him warning you to be careful. It was like you weren't paying him the slightest attention. Daryl was used to that from women — but somehow, this was different.

You didn't look down on him, nor at him with any hint of prejudice for wearing jeans still coated in oil, and boots he'd had to tape the soles of just to keep them together. In fact, you weren't looking at him at all. You seemed far more concerned with the stars that flickered in the night sky above you, but at the same time grateful towards the man for having brought you to them.

"You treat all your customers like this, Dixon?" you asked him.

He watched you turn around and look at him like you'd only just remembered that he was there. But, then you beamed a smile at him so bright that it put the stars to shame — and made all of your other ones look dim in comparison.

"Y'ain't special," he grumbled, shaking his head. "Jus' given' ya a lift home 'cos Dean told me to."

Though, Dean had left the shop hours ago.

Daryl watched you laugh like you'd caught him out one more time.

"There you go again," you said, teasingly. "Do you ever tell the truth?"

No, he didn't. He always tried to, but oftentimes it never did him any good. The people of this town had already made the assumption that he was a natural born liar. You were the first person to ever make the distinction between his white lies and those other types.

All his life, Daryl had been pigeon-holed into the role of good for nothing redneck, and had only recently graduated to the slightly less stereotyped town mechanic. But that night it was as if someone, for the first time, tried to get a peek at whatever was underneath.

Old man Dean was right. You were trouble — but not for the reason he had said. You were trouble because you seemed entirely unaware of your place in the world, and it made Daryl start to question his own. You seemed nice — perhaps even lovely — but Daryl never trusted those types. He knew you were far too good to be wasting away the early hours of the morning with the likes of him — and it left him wondering what exactly you wanted.

You'd already paid for his services, after all.

"Thank you for letting me see the stars again," you breathed, stretching your neck which ached from staring at the sky. "It's been a while."

Back then, Daryl didn't quite understand what that meant. He'd thought perhaps that you'd been talking about city pollution.

On the way back, Daryl felt you cling onto him tightly as he drove through empty roads, and passed the old, flickering street lights that blinked like camera flashes. But, when his fingers accidentally brushed up against yours, as you both reached for the shop door, you pulled your hand away.

It had only been a random Tuesday — that had eventually rolled into a Wednesday by the time he'd gotten you back into your repaired Camaro — but that was the moment in his life where Daryl felt like he had finally woken up.

But even awake, he often found himself lost in daydreams of the woman who crash landed into his life, and disappeared from it just as quickly as she came.

Daryl followed the trail of debris that had fallen from the sky, as though he were tracking some giant, metal bird. He didn't want to stick around too long, given that the noise had probably attracted every damn walker in the area; he just hoped that he was still far enough away from camp that they wouldn't be drawn there.

He stepped over the hunks of hot wreckage, some of it still ablaze, until he eventually came across something soft and not made of metal.

It was that jaeger. It was dead.

It looked as though it had been struck straight out of the sky. Its feathers lay scattered around it — the white breast now red with blood — and its wing was bent at a crooked angle, broken.

Daryl scowled. If he'd known that it was going to have such a meaningless death, then he would have shot it himself. Though, he still didn't add the bird to his string of dead animals; he thought that it had suffered enough.

He continued onwards through the brush until he stumbled across what he'd been looking for. But even as he saw it with his own eyes, Daryl couldn't quite believe it. Before him was the husk of a downed helicopter, burning in the middle of the forest.

Immediately, he ran to it, tripping over the wreckage as it got thicker and harder to navigate.

Though, there was no pilot inside — only radios and machinery parts that Daryl didn't know the names of. They screeched high frequency sounds as they caught on fire, and it made his ears ring the longer he listened.

So, he turned back.

That was when he saw it — them — a few meters away. His stomach dropped. Guess that's the pilot, he thought, looking up at the body tangled in the trees.

He'd never seen a parachute in real life before — only ever in the movies. He'd also never understood how that flimsy material could stop someone from plummeting to their death.

Well, in this case it hadn't.

The pilot was dangling from one of the branches, all caught up in those wire cables like a fish on a line. The limbs were contorted awkwardly, and Daryl swallowed thickly at the sight of their arm which had definitely been broken — reminding him of that miserable jaeger's wing.

He'd been all but ready to turn around and leave. The smell of burning rubber and the white noise from those radios would probably keep him up for the next few nights, but there was nothing he could do about that.

He'd been all but ready to turn around and leave, but then the body spoke to him.

"Dixon?" he heard it gasp.

And Daryl wondered just how many impossible things he might encounter today.

The voice startled him, and he almost stumbled over his own foot in return. Walkers couldn't speak, and they surely wouldn't know his name, either. Then, he caught the slightest movement, and recognised a jacket much too familiar. It had been his, after all, before he'd given it to you.

The pilot groaned, and Daryl recognised that tone of voice, too. He quickly fumbled about for his pocket knife, not even stopping to consider how the hell he'd be able to cut you down.

He couldn't even comprehend how you were alive-

"How's it hanging?" the voice spluttered.

-and how you'd kept that same god awful sense of humour.

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cheekygreenty · 3 years

Text

His Queen - The Darkling x Reader

bitch, I think I outdid myself on this one. I'm shocked I wrote this

He hated the Tsar. He hated himself, but he didn't hate you. How could he of let this happen, he's never been a slave to his emotions. You were married, no, scratch that, you were the Queen for Saint's Sake. The Tsar had made it common knowledge that you didn't belong anywhere but the Grand Palace, in a glittering gown and a jeweled crown upon your always perfect hair sitting in front of a fire sipping on your tea. He wanted you nowhere near the action or actual Palace life. You were merely an accessory to him.

The young and innocent girl raised in nobility, who caught the old bastard's eye by fluttering your eyelashes at him, longing for his person.

Bullshit.

Aleksander could see your repulsion whenever you were in your husband's presence. The longing eyes as you looked at the doors, the shiver that rattled your spine as his sweaty hand gripped yours, or the increasing sadness in your eyes as the months went on. The jewels around your neck glistened, but your eyes didn't. Not anymore.

He had done some digging in the months following the wedding, and rest assured you didn't belong anywhere near the palace. You were scrappy, ready for a fight at all times. There were numerous accounts of you running around villages, fighting your way through pubs and inns. Your parents, the Duke and Duchess, were downright ashamed of you before your big day. You were itching to drop everything and join the First Army the second you had the chance. You were skilled in ways no noble was; you had street smarts.

Then the late Queen died and you were presented on a silver platter to the King, donning all the family jewels that never sit quite right. The King couldn't help himself, the public blamed the grief for his hasty marriage, 'he needed a companion.' But in reality, he saw what he could have and grasped you up the second he had the chance. And now you were stuck here, in a cage with no way out.

Aleksander didn't take a liking to you at the start. All he saw was what the King wanted him to see and for that, he feels tremendous guilt. He thought you to be proper and uptight and spoiled, so when you approached him the first time, franticly asking for advice about a simple state matter that was dropped into your lap by the General himself, he couldn't help but snigger at you and convey news of the stupid Queen to his fellow Grisha.

He didn't know the King treated you like a child or that all of this was new to you. I should've seen it he cursed himself, for the weeks to follow you were the talk of both the Palaces and news spread to camps on the front.

The stupid, young, ditsy girl who couldn't put together a luncheon for Ravka's war heroes was the Queen. Ridiculous.

He believed it too until he had seen you out one night when he couldn't sleep. You were deep in the forest, tending to your black stallion and in what looked like peasant clothing. You had mud on your boots and your hair was messily braided. There was a tatted punching bad tied up on a tree and another person sitting against a log, breathing heavily and clutching his side. Aleksander never made himself known, just blended into the darkness as he did best but continued to watch you eagerly. Only then did he faintly make out your bruised knuckles and the tears in your breeches.

'Again?'

'Saints Y/N no, I've got a way to go and the way you just bruised my ribs, I've a painful journey ahead of me' mused the sitting man.

That night, Aleksander sent out his best Grisha to collect information and asked Genya to tend to you, but you denied yet again (only after asking her to fix up your hands).

Ever since then, Aleksander has been observing you and getting to know you when he could, telling his Grisha it was to gather information since Genya was no longer garnering the Queen's secrets, but he felt drawn to you for whatever reason. You were the best part of his day; whether it was a simple smile sent his way or you rambling about the ways you avoid being followed around the palace, he listened intently and set the shared memories into his brain.

The General was a mystery to you. With his extremely handsome face and confident stances, he mesmerized you to the point of a blank mind. Whenever your eyes met his, it could be in a room of 60 people, rest assured you were right by his side in an instant. You had sought out his presence wherever you went and clung to it while you could.

But the King had made his opinion of the Darkling obvious, and his hatred ran deep. 'He likes to think he rides a horse above everyone else.' 'He's most unnatural.' You didn't care though. As long as he kept himself away from you and just used his words and not actions, you were fine.

You had gathered a particular kindness for late evening walks before bed, silently slipping onto the grounds of his palace, awaiting his companionship. It might have only been 40 minutes out of your day, but it was always better than not seeing him.

Ivan had pointed out that you had an air of hostility around you every time you were in a room with your husband and your heart tended to beat dangerously fast as if you were panicking. So Aleksander attempted to pull you away from him and distract you from the horrid man, and it seemed to work. He grew to like you and would miss your witty humor when he went back to the Little Palace.

Months had passed and he never grew sick of your presence, ironically he craved more of it. He tried to tell himself that you were just a part of his plan, nothing more, but things got even more complicated. He had accidentally mentioned seeing you that night in the forest, and instead of being hostile about it, you told him you enjoyed a fight or two and invited him to join you. That night, after multiple rounds of sparring and hard hits, he kissed you fervently. And again and again, until you both got past the point of going back.

You acknowledged the risk only after it happened and started to panic. You had an affair with the General of the Second Army. He seemed to be in the same state as you. But before you went your separate ways, he held you in his arms and promised it would all be ok. You believed him.

He got back to his chambers that night and his demeanor changed behind the closed doors. He was so mad. He always swore to take what the King loved most and destroy it before his very eyes, but this was a sick joke the Saints played on him. He needed to protect you, get you out of the Tsar's grip, and hide you away from any harm. There was nothing he wouldn't do to keep you out of danger's way and he knew it. Why did he let this happen? He knew that whatever your ending may be, you would get hurt, maybe not physically, but definitely emotionally.

You had told him of all the things the King did to you, how he treated you and paraded you around. You begged Aleksander to do something about it, to help you get out of that life and back to your old one, but there was nothing he could do and it broke his heart.

'I wish I could do something Y/N, I truly do, but I am not as powerful as you may think I am. The King is still the King' he had told you, guilt building in him.

He was sitting at his desk in his chambers now, looking out the window feeling fidgety. You were late for your evening walk, like really late. Sure it happened before, but Aleksander had a weird gut feeling that something happened. Maybe the King found out? or maybe you finally realized the magnitude of the situation and came to your senses?

He knew if the King whiffed out a sliver of what was going on with his wife and Aleksander, he would rain hellfire. He was a powerful man, the most powerful man in all of Ravka and there was nothing more dangerous than an embarrassed man's actions.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud noise he hadn't heard in a very long time, followed by the very loud thuds of falling books. The tunnel?

'ALEKSANDER?' your panicked voice reached him and triggered something primal in him. fight or flight. He and his shadows shot up and ran to you but stopped dead in his tracks, the black matter disappearing in on itself. You stood at the entrance to the tunnel, visibly shaking with anger, but that's wasn't the cause of his shock.

'Saints Y/N' He whispered, realization flooding over him like a nasty wave of ice-cold water. Your once ivory white nightgown was drenched in crimson but you were uninjured, it wasn't yours. The huge green Lanstov emerald sitting atop your left hand was smeared in red too, giving it a brown tinge.

'I need to get out of here right now.' You sounded solid and stern, the panic was long gone. The scrappy fighter was back.

Aleksander had always known what to say. But now, he didn't have a single word come to his mind and his body refused to move, he was rendered speechless and useless. This is a nightmare, surely, he prayed.

'Y/N I-I, What happ-'

'Aleksander, unless you want to see my head on a pike by dawn, I suggest you help me' You said as you moved across the room, after closing the tunnel door firmly shut. How does she even know about these tunnels?

'I once heard a drunkard speak of tunnels beneath the palaces, I tried my luck' You said answering his question without even being asked,

Your hands moved quick, shedding yourself of the nightgown and holding it in your hands as you moved to grab his black robe off a chair. Aleksander still stood there, his head whirling with so many thoughts, it debilitated him. He needed her to say it.

'Y/N did you do what I think you did'

'You know I did'

At that moment the doors burst open to reveal Ivan with an alarmed look on his face and his hands raised, ready to jump into action, most likely alerted by the falling books. But he faltered when he saw you, The Queen, covered in blood and holding a bloody nightgown in the most secure room of the Little Palace.

'Great another witness' You huffed and dumped the gown into the fireplace.

'Moi soverenyi, what is the meaning of this?'

'Ivan I wish I could tell you.'

'I killed the King. I have approximately 3 hours before somebody notices him laying in his own blood with his neck slit open' You sighed and sat down, head in your hands. This was the first moment you'd had to process it all, and it was overwhelming, to say the least.

A silence enveloped the room as the fire roared back to life, already having burnt the evidence to a crisp. Aleksander finally came to his senses, moved and grabbed a bowl of water and a cloth.

'Did anybody see you leave?' He asked as he handed you the items to wash your hands of the sticky blood.

'No. I made sure of it. I traveled through the tunnels.'

'And the King? There is no weapon near him?' Ivan interrupted.

Slowly you bent down and pulled a small dagger out of your shoe. Small but sharp.

'Give that to me' Aleksander took it out of your hands and walked out of the room while you continued to scrub the crimson off your hands.

You momentarily looked at Ivan, he didn't look mad or upset. He looked like a soldier.

'Are you not mad your King is dead?' You mused.

'He was not my King'

'That makes two of us' You were done cleaning your hands and moved to clean the ring. Should I burn this too?

'Leave it on. If things go sideways, you can buy your freedom' Aleksander returned. 'Ivan go get 2 horses and pack essentials. Get Genya too. I trust you to keep quiet.'

'Yes Moi soverenyi, Moya tsaritsa' He bowed his head quickly and waltzed out the room.

'Aleksander I'm scared now.....what have I done' You whispered. He took hold of your hand and pulled you into him. He held you tight, not wanting to let go.

'It's going to be ok. I promise. There's a small cottage down south I want you to go to. Ivan will take you. You will be safe. I will right this. I will protect you as I should've done earlier.' He kissed you deeply, letting all of the emotions flow through without the need for words.

'And what then?' You whispered against his lips.

'You be you. Perhaps go to Ketterdam. I feel you belong there... or come back to me when the time is right' He kissed you again, it was sweet and sad. A goodbye kiss. 'I love you, and even though you don't like it, you are my Queen. Forever'

'I love you too' Your hands fisted at his beautiful black kefta as tears dripped off your face.

****

That night you fled, your hair and appearance completely changed. The peasant clothes you felt comfortable in were on your back while the heartrenderer galloped beside you. Os Alta was still asleep as you sped down south, praying to the Saints that leaving Aleksander to deal with your mess was the right decision. That he would be ok too.

Ravka was shaken by the news of their dead King and the missing Queen. Some say she was dead, kidnapped by Fjerdans, and slaughtered mercilessly, others said Kerch merchants had her thrown in the Fold as she refused to give up information.

Either way, Aleksander had made sure you weren't regarded as a murderer and kept his promise to give you a chance to return to the Little Palace, to him.

Also if u can see this fic plz interact with it!! Idk if my tumblr is fixed yet and I need to make sure!!! If u were tagged and it didn’t notify you like last time, plz tell me!!!! 💓💓

Taglist (tell me if u want to be added)

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @lostysworld @0-artemis @exo-1204 @staradorned @bookfrog242 @simp-for-ben-barners @keepdaydreamingbb @acciorudolphx

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amindofstone · 3 years

Text

A pirates treasure

a/n: I am in love with a broken character. I am in love with a man that has “death” tattooed on his fingers. I am in love with a freaking 2D character that has the name “Surgeon of death”. Call me crazy but hey, the owner of a heart was never able to choose in who it falls in love. Yeah, to put it short I am in love with a character that barely has any romantic, lovely or sweet traits but still gets me screaming at 2 am whenever he appears. I am in love with Trafalgar D. Water Law.

a/n edited: My attention was drawn to a huge mistake of mine. I really don't want to justify my mistake and just delete it as if nothing happened. So therefore I'll do a quick explanation.

As you can see I used the picture above as a "cover" for my imagine without making any researches about the artist of the amazing work. I got the picture send by a friend with the request if I could use it and so I did without thinking twice. I should have done my job properly by finding the artist and asking for permission but I didn't and simply neglected that. And I'm truly and really sorry for that and genuinely apologise from the bottom of my heart. I hope I'll be forgiven. The picture used was that of the artist @666deaddash999 that has a blog here on tumblr and definitely should be seen. And again my apologies.

a/n edited pt. 3.: I am in f***ing tears. I don´t deserve this much kindness. This artist, the dear @666deaddash999 , is truely an angel. I really am garteful for being allowed to use it. Like damn they even liked my fic!!! I am in tears and emotional AF!! Anyways have a nice day and thank you for reading my work!

Genre: anime imagine? One Piece imagine?

Character(s): Trafalgar D. Water Law x Rose (reader)

Warnings: Maybe grammar or spelling mistakes. (I genuinely apologize. English is not my mother tongue and I´m really trying to improve. So please be so kind and have mercy)

Words: 4257

Info: Keep in mind that the words in italic are Rose (reader) train of thoughts.

!!! Please do not steal my idea or work. Credit me if this is shared or published in any other platform or any other way. This took me a lot of time. So please respect me as the writer and my work. Picture used is not mine. Credits to the rightful owner. !!!

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"Are you insane?! Can you hear what you're saying right now?! No! Do you know what you're saying right now?!", asked the now furious woman. "She lost her mind Marcus. Your daughter lost her brain on the way back home!!", the woman with the probably most expensive tiara on her head was running around the salon while making sure her husband understood her point in their daughters failure. "For the sake of sanity Marcus say something!!! Won't you?!", the woman yelled at her husband who was sitting on his chair in front of the chimney. “I regret the day I gave birth to you? I regret those nine months I carried you. I did not give birth to you so you can end up like this! This is not what we taught you!”. The king was clearly overwhelmed by the whole situation that had to happen two weeks before the king and his spouse from the neighboring island would come. Right at the moment in which he and his wife decided to make their daughter marry their son. The king who usually was always in a good mood and had a smile on his lips was now the total opposite. He was sad and felt lost. He didn't know how to cope with the situation his wife; or rather life confronted him with.

With a hand covering half of his face and closed eyes he focused on his breathing and just let his spouse calm down first before he spoke what was on his mind. He kept telling himself to breathe in and breath out when the queen’s next words made him stand up and leave the room.

"You traitor! How dare you sit there like you're the victim, you disgrace! You disgusting piece of shit! Where did you leave you honor and pride?! In the bed of that scum?!", the words of the mad woman made the young royal look up for the first time she entered the salon. The princess, the third daughter of one of the most powerful kingdoms, was in tears. A hand covering her mouth with the hope to keep her screams of pain inside she just let the tears stream down her face. “Look what you did you cheap piece of shit. I am disappointed in you. No wonder I never was fond of you and your existence. You are absolutely not capable of anything in this world. And Marcus calls something like you his beloved daughter. Get out and get back to your chambers. I don´t want to see you out of your quarter before the royal family whose son you´ll be marrying will come. You heard me! And I dare you to start another tantrum about the marriage or else I make you regret existing.”, Rose nodded and left the salon without a word.

On her way back to her quarter her brother, the crown prince, saw her and wanted to stop her and ask what their mother said, but she didn´t let him touch her or talk to her. He wanted to hold her and comfort her since he knew how their mother can hurt one with her words but she didn´t let him come closer. She silently left him behind and ran to her save place so she could cry out loud with the hope of getting rid of the pain in her chest. She cried and cried until her maid came with her dinner. The maid tried her best to make the young princess stop crying and eat something but she couldn´t make it. When the food she brought her got cold she tried to at least make her calm down but to no avail. Before the sad maid left the princess alone she took the food she brought her and asked her with pleading eyes if she could do anything for her. The maid thought that she won´t answer her while still shedding tears when the princess who was sitting on her bed looked her in the eye for the first time since she entered her chambers. The maid gave her a genuine and friendly smile while telling her that she´ll do anything for her. But the words of the princess made her stop smiling while the little spark of hope died down. “Kill me and put this miserable life of mine to an end.”, the maid did not know what to say so she left her chambers with a soft apology and a deep bow.

Silence.

Suffocating silence took over her chambers after a while when no sound of her could be heard anymore. Her throat was sore from the hurt screams that left her. Screams she tried to suppress with a pillow or her hand. Screams she held in for weeks. If her throat wouldn´t be hurting by now and if she had just a bit more energy she would be screaming more. She would be screaming from the top of her lungs while trying to get rid of the pain in her chest that seems to be clinching onto her for dear life. Her heart was aching. Her soul was helplessly trying to understand what was happening right now while her brain stopped functioning. She was lifeless. She looked like a corpse sitting on a bed. She didn´t move an inch or dared to breathe aloud. When someone would have entered her chambers they would have thought a doll was sitting on the massive bed and not the princess. The princess the whole kingdom loved for her genuine smile and friendliness. A princess that was loved by ever person that saw her because of the kindness she holds in her heart and eyes.

The princess. A young lady whose beauty was known all over the world. Whose kindness anyone knew and mentioned. A young royal with a genuine heart, a heart as pure as that of an angel. A young royal in the age of 19 that was able to make any person walk over broken glass if they could make her smile. But what happened to her? A young lady who used to walk around the kingdom with a smile upon her lips and a childlike playfulness. What happened to the girl that used to be the happiness of any person in the palest and the kingdom?

Rose, never thought that the day would come she needed to be told how beautiful life can be. She never thought that the day would come where her siblings and maids would have to come and tell her that life is full of love and happiness

Isn´t it funny how fast a person can change? How fast the happiness of a person can be taken away from them. Isn´t it funny how something that is supposed to be good can break a person and ruin their whole life? How can something that she was always told about as the most beautiful and powerful thing on earth break her and be the cause of her pain. Why does it carry so much pain and tears when it´s supposed to be the reason a human lives? This doesn´t seem logical to her. It seems like all the things she was told were lies. Lies and lies told one after another. Why did they lie to me?

Rose was freezing. The dress she was wearing at the moment was obviously not able to keep her warm anymore. She needed to change. She needed to take a bath. But she had neither energy nor motivation to do anything so she kept sitting there while looking out of her huge window. Her window was wide open and let the fresh but cold wind of the spring night enter her save place. Her curtains were waving more and more due to the slowly stronger getting wind. Just when she thought that she calmed down a bit, she suddenly started to remember the words of her mother. Words that were sharper than any knife or sword. Words that cut her heart into pieces. Disgrace, she said. Disappointment, she said. She regrets giving me live, she said. And again tears fell down her cheeks. Tears filled by pure hate towards herself. She hated herself. She hated her body and wanted to die. The couple that used to shower her with love now hated her. Slowly more tears started to stream down her face while she tried to muffle down her soft sobs by putting a hand over her mouth. The cold wind that entered her chambers through her open window and door to her terrace stopped by now only to be replaced by rain. It seems like the sky was the only one that understood her pain and cried with her out of empathy. Day, weeks and now months passed and a forbidden longing accompanied her through her lonely days filled with regret. I wish I never went to the harbor with my maid. I wish I could erase that day from my life and memories.

When she thought that the pain she felt couldn´t get worse a person called her name with so much love it hurt her. She was confused and scared at the same time. With panic written all over her face she looked around her chambers only to be greeted by a tall man who entered her bedroom through her terrace. Slow steps were made as if he knew that she´d be overwhelmed by his sudden presence. She couldn´t see his face but knew that he was looking straight into her eyes. Just when he was about to enter her bedroom he stopped at the door of her terrace and allowed her to hear his voice. A voice that was able to get her weak and lose balance and fall on her knees. But luckily she was now sitting on her bed in the same position since a few hours now. “May I enter?”

A soft whine erupted her sore throat, while her heart started to race. As if she ran from one side of the island to the other. She couldn´t believe her eyes. She wanted to scream his name and jump in his arms. She wanted to kiss his face, hands and shower him with all the love she felt for him but she didn´t move but gave him a small nod that allowed him to enter. Am I imagining this?

His hat he seemed to love so much and that turned into his signature got recognized by the heartbroken princess next to his sword that accompanied him through every fight and battle. But his clothes changed into something she thought he would never wear. It changed into something elegant but at the same time simple. A black long cloak was loosely hanging over his shoulder that was decorated at its collar with a thick pitch black fur. Under the cloak she could make out a white wide loose shirt that gave away a beautiful sight of his toned and tattooed chest. He looked like a sculpture that was awakened to life. She couldn´t believe what she was seeing. She was staring at his face, his hands, his slightly wetted clothes with the hope that her eyes were playing a stupid game with her heart. She couldn´t look away while all this time he was slowly coming closer to her and the bed she was sitting on. Just when she realized who was standing in her chambers she quickly tried her best to pull herself together and speak in a half decent steady voice but sadly to no avail. “Don´t come closer and get back to the place you came from.”

She tried. She tried her best to talk in a convincing and steady voice but she failed, miserably. Her trembling voice and body betrayed her. Her hands that were holding tight onto her sheets betrayed her. Her knuckles that turned white from the pressure she put on them betrayed her. But most of all it were her eyes and tears that betrayed her. Her whole body screamed to be touched by him. Her hands longed for his warmth. Her heart screamed to be consoled and her eyes gave away all of the love she had for him. She shouldn´t be able to cry anymore thinking about the whole day she only cried but unlike a few minutes ago she was now shedding tears of pure joy. “Are you sure that you want me to leave?”, the man in front of her asked her to not only convince himself that this is what she wanted but also to give her the chance to rethink her choice, but the black haired woman nodded what she instantly regretted.

Regret. What a simple word to use when it hold so much emotions and thoughts.

The moment she saw him make a step back and put a distance between him and her, a quiet pleading to not leave her left her lips that made him instantly drop his sword. The sudden sound of his falling weapon surprised her and made her look down to the place it fell. She wanted to ask if he was doing fine when the next move of the man that ruined her life shook her to death. Everything happened in the blink of an eye. He took of his hat and threw it somewhere she couldn´t make out only to get on her bed and connect their lips. She didn´t wanted him to kiss her. She didn´t wanted him this close but still grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer. Rose´s hands were trembling while her tears still didn´t stop falling. It felt like a dream, a dream come true when she remembered her mother’s words and pushed him away from her.

Trafalgar D. Water Law.

What or who gave you the permission to enter my live and turn it upside down. The tears that were falling down her cheeks were that of pure happiness to have him in front of her but slowly with her mother´s words coming back to her mind they slowly turned into tears of pain and fear. Law wanted more. He wanted to kiss her more and hold her. He wanted her all to himself. He took her hands, that were still holding onto his shirt, in his and kissed each and every finger of her one by one. “She´ll kill you.”, she said with a quivering voice with the hope to make him understand in what kind of situation they were but he didn´t care at all. “She said she´ll execute you in front our nation.”, but still the pirate didn´t care. In fact he intertwined their hands and started to kiss her all over her face. “She called you so many names and said that she´ll kill any person you are close to right after she killed you. Law are you listening.”, she kept telling him what her mother the queen said but her lover didn´t seem to care. But to make clear that he indeed was listening to her he nodded and hummed in her ear before he made his way to her neck. But before he could place his lips on her skin again she said something what made him stop in his tracks. “I´m getting engaged in two weeks and married next month.”, just when she thought that he´ll get made and push her away she heard a soft chuckle before he laid her down and get back to kissing her while making sure to leave marks here and there. She felt pathetic. She felt horrible. She felt like agreeing to her mother’s words that she is not worth being a royal or a princess. “Law, don´t you understand in what situation I am right now? I feel like I´m a joke to y….”.

“Am I a joke to you? Are my feelings a joke to you?”, Law stopped her midsentence just to leave her with a question that made her rethink all the thoughts she had in the last weeks. But she had no time to think because the man on top of her stood up and left her bed. Panic overcame her and she started to breath quickly. “Please don´t leave me. I beg you Law. I don´t know what to do without you. Please!”

If the princess could see the man’s face at this moment she would have seen his genuine smile of pure happiness and relief. “Who said I wanted to leave you?”, said the tall man and made his way towards her door just to lock it. No matter where he went Rose followed all of his steps around her chambers. He closed the window and the door to her terrace while also making sure to close the curtains. If her maid did not came to light the candelas on her nightstand it would have been pitch black and she wouldn´t be able to see what the pirate who sneaked into the palace would do right now. He took of his shoes and placed them neatly next to the armchair in front of her chimney. Slow and carefully he took of his slightly wet cloak and put it over the backrest to dry. While she wondered if he wasn´t cold with what he was wearing she realized a bit too late that he took his shirt off and went to light up some other candelas in her room while giving her a full display of his tattoos. How on earth could someone as beautiful as him fall for me? What happened that made him love me to an extend he came all the way to the palace to me? Do I deserve this much love? Rose was looking down to her hands that lay on her lap when she felt the bed shift. She didn´t dare to look him in the eyes. She felt cheap and used. How can I marry a man that I don´t love? How can I get married while fully knowing that I gave away the most precious thing I had to a pirate that told me he loved me? I am being the naive and stupid woman my mother called me. “Do you regret losing you virginity to me?”, the sudden question of the criminal she fell in love with surprised her and made her look up to him with widen eyes. “Do you regret letting me be your first kiss? Do you regret letting me lay in your arms?”, Law took her hands back in his to intertwine them again. An act he does without realizing it by now. He was used to place her hand in is. He wanted it and needed it. He wanted to feel her and her warmth. He needed a reassurance that she really was sitting in front of him. He needed something that made clear to him that he wasn´t dreaming and really was beside her and not in his or the strawhats ship sleeping.

“Do you want to marry him? Are you fine with your parents marring you off to someone you don´t love neither know?”, the princess was overwhelmed not only by his question but also by his eyes which were filled by sadness. His grey eyes that usually had something playful and fierce in it. His eyes that used to always soften whenever the landed on her who was his lover, his woman, his absolute everything. The princess placed her hands on his face and caressed his cheeks. If only she knew what that little gesture did to him. If only she knew how much control she had over him. If only. “Trafalgar Law. I gave you everything I had. I let you be my first love and my first lover. I let you be my first kiss and my first time not for you to ask me if I regretted it. Law I love you. Although my miserable live won´t allow me to be with you I can assure you that I would throw everything away only to be with you.”, Laws eyes were closed. He couldn’t think properly anymore. His heart was racing. His mind was an absolute mess. He wanted her close to him. He wanted to feel her. He needed her so he sat her down on his lap and leaned back. With his head resting on the headboard of her bed and the royal lady on top of him he tried to calm his heart down and make it stop racing. “If I wouldn´t be a doctor I would have thought I was about to die whenever I had you near me.”, the young princess looked at him with concern in her eyes. “At that time I couldn´t understand why my heart was racing or why I felt like I was getting crushed. There was always this feeling of something or someone putting a huge amount of pressure on my chest whenever I thought about you. And whenever I had you close to me I felt like I was drowning and losing all my powers. But now I know that it´s alright to feel like this because this is how it´s supposed to be. Because today I know that it´s because I love you.”, Law was not someone that spoke out loud about his feelings. He wasn´t the type of person who shared his thoughts but when he did he was able to blow any person away. The words of her lover made her heart race while guilt over came her. “Stop. Please stop.”, begged Rose while hiding her face in the crock of his neck. She knew that she was hurting him by telling him to stop. She knew that she wasn´t supposed to react like this but what could she do, she was promised to a prince of a neighbor island. She shouldn´t be kissing him or hugging him. She shouldn´t be laying in his arms while he told her how much she meant to him. She should be sending him away like a worthy daughter and princess should do.

“Do you want me to leave. If so than just tell me and I will leave you alone tonight. I really don´t have a problem with that. I can´t bear seeing you sad, my love. I will come tomorrow. Would you like that?”, hearing his words made her look up and see his face to make sure he wasn´t playing with her but no, he was serious. He was smiling down to her while caressing her cheek. The look he gave her broke her heart. She knew he loved her. No matter how many times she told herself that she meant nothing to him her heart told her different. “This is not how it works, Law! You are such a fool. You idiot! I just told you that I´m promised to a prince and here you are telling me that you will come tomorrow if I don´t feel well. What is wrong with you?”, tears were falling down her cheeks. Thinking about the amount of tears she just shed today makes one wonder how she is still possible to cry more. Rose hit him a few times on his chest before she left his lap and sat down next to him. She couldn´t bear being this close to him so she tried putting some distance between him and her when Law laid her down and hovered above her.

“Tell me what is wrong with you? Do you really think I let your parents take you away from me? Do you really think I let some random bastard marry my woman? I am a pirate Rose. If I want something I get it and when I have it I won´t give it back. Do you understand?”, Law spoke in a soft tone but one full of power and determination. Rose didn´t know what to say so she simply kept quiet and kept listening to him. “You are mine. My treasure. My property, You are mine all alone and I don´t share what is mine. And if anyone is so foolish to try to take what is mine I won´t hesitate to cut off their heart.”, the dreaded pirate spoke in his calm but deep voice and made the woman underneath him stare at him without daring to move an inch. “Now tell me do you really thing I let you get married to anyone that is not me?”, Rose was numb. She was awestruck and speechless so Law took the matter in his own hands and took her face in his hands and shook her head in a playful manner. He knew that his words took her by surprise what could he do? It was her guilt that he was head over heel in love with her. “No, my darling. I won´t let go of you. Just wait a few more days and wait for me. I have a little plan to get you out of her.”, the last words the pirate spoke made her widen her eyes. Law indeed loved the effect he had on her. The princess wanted to say something but the pirate didn´t allow her to speak up. He placed a short kiss on her lips before he slowly started to unbutten her dress. “Law?!”

“You can´t imagine how much I missed you. Please allow me to show you how much you mean to me, my dear. Hold me and show me that your presence is not a dream. Please allow me to love you.”

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theautumnisnoble · 3 years

Text

we'll learn to swim in the oceans you made

After listening to Shirtsleeves by Ed Sheeran this scenario immediately came into mind, also heavily inspired by Jenn Im's pregnancy youtube video titled, "We're Pregnant!"

[Also a very big thank you to A (@solhwippedsubs on twt and holdoutandwin on ao3) for beta-reading this. I love you my solhwi fluff confidant!]

Word Count: 2k words

"Wake up!" Sol removes the comforter that was covering his husband's body and started shaking him. "Han Joon Hwi, ireona!"

"Mmm, Sol-ah. Why?" Joon Hwi covered his eyes with his arm to shield them from the rays of sunlight and wondered why the love of his life was forcing him out of their bed so early in the morning.

"Ireona! Jebal.." Joon Hwi immediately shot up as Sol's voice started to crack and he examined her face. Sol teared up and Joon Hwi noticed she was holding something tightly, stick close to snapping into half.

"Babe, what's wrong? Are you okay?" Joon Hwi held both of her arms and looked up at her.

Sol had been so emotional these days, well, more than she usually is. Sol always has been a passionate ball of fury, but Joon Hwi especially had it rough this week. He doesn't find Sol annoying or tiring for any of that matter, but he would wonder why Sol would suddenly cry or get mad at him for absolutely no reason, and if there was, then he avoided asking it as when he did that one time, Sol only got more mad at him. There was also yesterday when Joon Hwi sprayed on himself the perfume that Sol gifted to him on their wedding anniversary last April and Sol suddenly pinched her nose close and walked outside of their bedroom. And now, Sol was in tears, sobbing, at 7 am in the morning.

"Babe.. I'm starting to worry. What's wrong?"

"I told you to be careful!!!" Sol lightly punched his shoulder and bawled.

Joon Hwi raised his arm and wiped her tears using the sleeves of his sweater, pulling on the cloth with his fingers. "What did I do wrong? Calm down for a sec and tell me.."

"Don't tell me to calm down!"

"O-okay." Joon Hwi surrendered for a while and let Sol release all of her emotions. Moments later, her sobs started to simmer down and Joon Hwi opened his arms wide. "C'mere."

Sol bended down and let Joon Hwi's arms circle around her. Her lower body slowly went closer to him and then she sat on his lap, her shoulder against his chest. Joon Hwi wiped down the dampness on her face and caressed her arm. "Now, babe, talk to me, okay? I'm never gonna know what I did wrong if you won't tell me."

Sol faced him and tried to form intelligent words. "Well, you—"

"Hmm?"

"I'm—" Her mouth started to form into a pout and tears started fall again from her eyes. "Joon Hwi-ah." She released sobs again and buried her face into his neck. Joon Hwi sighed and patted her arm.

"Babe—"

"I'm pregnant."

Joon Hwi paused his movements and pulled his head back away, lightly pushing Sol by her shoulders, to let Sol face him. Sol's eyes wandered down to her left hand and Joon Hwi followed them, then he grabbed the stick from her hand.

It was a pregnancy test. Two red-dyed lines. Positive.

Joon Hwi faced Sol, his lips starting to form into a smile. "Babe—"

"I told you to be careful!!" Sol again whimpered, tears still falling.

"W-what? Is it because I—"

"Nevermind!" Sol wiped her tears in a rash way and breathed out to calm herself down. "I-it's actually not your fault." Sol now realized the irrationality of her internal reasoning.

Joon Hwi held back a chuckle and tucked a hair behind his wife's ear.

"Remember April?"

"When we shared a sloppy kiss under the rain?" Joon Hwi tried to lighten the mood by reminding her how they had to walk all the way to the bus stop under the heavy pouring rain, just right after they had their wedding anniversary date at a fine dining restaurant four months ago. It was a funny, but sweet memory.

"No! Before that, when I got diagnosed with PCOS."

"Aah."

It left Sol and Joon Hwi almost hopeless for a child when she was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. But Sol, even before that, was convinced she didn't need to have kids and that she was satisfied with her life with Joon Hwi, content that they'd be that couple with no children. They were already busy with their very time-demanding jobs and Sol— she convinced herself she wouldn't be competent with the whole mothering a child thing. But after knowing her condition, the question, "should I?" turned to "could I?". The condition that would possibly rob her of the choice eventually made her think about how it wouldn't be so bad, because Joon Hwi was there. So after the news of her condition, she decided on one thing.

"A-after that I got off birth control." Joon Hwi nodded and listened to Sol, who was still tearing up a bit, and he also wiped down those tears when he could.

"Then yesterday, when I realized I wasn't on my period yet, I got to read my period calculator and saw that I- I was 16 days late." Sol exhaled for courage.

"Then I bought the pregnancy test." Sol paused and looked at Joon Hwi, and her face looked like she was about to burst again. Her lips were shaking and her eyes were still crystal with tears ready to fall. She was scared.

"You can take it slow, I'll be here. I won't stop listening." Sol released a small smile, tidied her face and tucked in her stray hairs, preparing to tell Joon Hwi more while also now trying to relax herself.

"I didn't know if I should take it though. I mean, everything would change if I was pregnant. But I did wanna know, I wanted to be certain. And it said that I should use my morning pee for it so I waited until morning."

"But you hardly even slept.." Joon Hwi recalls her wife tossing and turning beside him, and then ultimately giving up trying to sleep then went downstairs. He bets on Sol reading up on her cases, which works as an alternative sleeping pill for her.

Ever since she was diagnosed with PCOS, Sol really took effort into having a more healthy lifestyle— like exchanging coffee for matcha, this among other things, and also trying to get some more sleep. So Joon Hwi knew that Sol would definitely try to catch up on sleep.

"I did, a bit." She smiled. "So, after that I took it just earlier. A-and I tested positive." Sol's emotions now returned to her and she closed her eyes, her eyebrows furrowed and tears started to fall again.

"I'm scared." She looked at him. "I don't know if I'm gonna be a good mother. I feel like I should be happy or something, but I'm just really scared." Sol now covered her face with both palms and cried, Joon Hwi pulled her in to embrace her.

"Babe.." He patted her back.

"What if I try my best, and our kid still doesn't love me?" That was it. Sol released another wave of sobs and her body shook against Joon Hwi's embrace.

Sol thought she wasn't ready. Even if it was her choice to get off birth control, she didn't think she would immediately become pregnant. After all, her doctor said it was now almost impossible to be. In her mind, pregnancy would change everything— from how much devotion she has to her work to maybe how her and Joon Hwi's relationship would change, and maybe for the worst. And she didn't like change, her idealistic plans for her future would need to be altered, and she also didn't like how it would most likely change their marriage. She couldn't have that, she couldn't live with a ruined marriage because she didn't want anything to change between Joon Hwi and her, and she also couldn't live with her child possibly having to live through all that. And what if he gets tired of taking care of me? And tons of other doubts and insecurities showered her.

Why does my mind do this? Sol asked herself. Why can't I just be excited? Joon Hwi is the father of this child. I'm sure he's disappointed in me right now.

Joon Hwi pulled away after she calmed down. He wiped her face, again with his already damp shirtsleeves. He placed short kisses on her wet cheeks and cupped her face. "Sol, I believe in you."

Sol melted and her lips turned into a pout, her face still showing fear and uncertainty.

"I'm with you, whatever your decision is. I will be always there for you as I always have. If you arrive to whichever decision, I will give you my opinion but at the end I will always support you. If you don't want to have the baby, I'll still be here. If you want to try and see it through the end, I will be happy and help you every step of the way. I'm your husband Sol-ah. I know you don't trust yourself that much yet, but trust in me. "

Sol put her arms around him and hugged him tight. "I love you Sol. We'll take it slow, step by step. I know you're panicking right now, but there's no rush. We'll do it together. You're never gonna be alone. I'll be there every single step of the way. And I'm sure our kid will love you. You were an amazing older sister to Byeol and you still are, she adores you so I'm sure our kid will, too."

"I love you Joon Hwi. I love you so much. I love you."

"You love me that much?"

Sol pulled away, annoyed. Joon Hwi released a chuckle.

"I love you too."

"You sure I can do it?" Sol asked. "Being a mom? What if I'm going to be too busy for it?"

"We can always ask Byeol to babysit. Or your mom, she has said she already wants a grandchild."

"You always know the solution to things don't you?" Sol rolled her eyes.

"That's why I'm the perfect husband to the ever worrier Eomma Sol."

"Eomma Sol?" Sol raised her voice, taken aback by the sudden nickname.

"And I'm Appa Joon Hwi. " Then Sol bursted out, laughing. Her tears were now drying on her cheeks and she was more relaxed now.

"See? It's cute." I just wanted to see you smile. Joon Hwi thought.

Sol pulled him into a hug again. "You better not regret being a father to our child, Han Joon Hwi-ssi."

Joon Hwi let himself fall into bed, taking down Sol with her. They both laughed and Joon Hwi pulled her into a kiss, tasting the bitterness and sadness of her tears. They made out, feeling at home and Sol, feeling assured and loved by the person in front of her. Joon Hwi kissed her, tasting the ocean, drowning in the one she made.

"I will never regret it. I will fulfill all the promises I made on our wedding day, to be by your side, To support you, to be a loving husband, to be always there to annoy you—" Sol laughed, remembering his one-liner during their exchange of wedding vows. "To always wake and sleep beside you whenever I can, and to never leave your side." They both smiled at each other and Joon Hwi placed a kiss on her forehead. They pull each other close, feeling each other's warmth. And Sol is now close to slumber, fatigued after her nonstop crying.

"I'll be the happiest father to our child. Of course I will, you're the mother, after all."

#law school bingo #law school bingo: kissing in the rain #law school bingo: insecurity #law school bingo: wedding vows #law school bingo: anniversary #law school bingo: pregnancy #law school bingo: nicknames #law school fic fest #law school month #law school bingo: i just wanted to see you smile #Law School Bingo: Verdict

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wyofabdoms · 3 years

Text

Undercover I Do - Chapter 13

Characters: Javier Peña x female reader

Summary: While on an undercover assignment posing as a married couple, you are attacked and nearly assaulted. Upon waking, all you remember about Javier Peña is what you remembering seeing from two photographs of the two of you posing as the happily married couple. As you struggle to regain your memories, Javi struggles with his own feelings for you.

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: Implied cheating, swearing, destruction of government property, fluff, angst, mild reference and description of physical & sexual assault.

Word Count: 5048

Notes: The aftermath of you finding the file in Javi's office.

We've reached the end. I didn't expect this story to end this way; I really expected it to have a lot more smut...but! it got the ending it told me it wanted!

Let me know if you find any crazy mistakes. Feedback and comments greatly appreciated.

Be well!

Read on Ao3

Gif not mine, created by bestintheparsec

You had always hated it when people said stupid shit like “all the pieces just fell into place.” Pieces don’t FALL into place. Pieces of pie don’t fall, they’re served. Puzzle pieces don’t fall, they’re carefully assessed and placed into a precise spot just for that specific piece. That saying had never made any sense to you and had always made you crazy.

But now suddenly, every inch that had been hidden in the dark from you was illuminated, highlighted. Everything seemed all at once so bright and overwhelming; one moment you had no recollection of anything written about in the report in your hands. The next moment, CLICK. The light had been turned on and everything was there again.

Everything made more sense now. Why everyone had seemed so on edge whenever they had spoken with you the last few weeks, everyone seeming to measure their words carefully. Why you hadn’t been able to jog any memories loose at all about your nuptials and marriage (or in fact any relationship at all) with Javier. Why you had felt so off-balance in your own apartment.

Why Javier had refused to sleep with you.

None of it was real. You felt the blood drain from your face as you remembered the parts that came next in Javi’s report before you read them, the memories coming faster than the words on the page, now.

The pieces falling into place.

The icy spear of fear that had sliced your chest when the first sicario had come up behind the two of you the night you’d been discovered and pistol whipped Javi, knocking him to the floor. The punches and scratches and lewd, terrible threats Ortiz’s cronies had rained down on you in the hours that you were separated from him. How you had never felt more relieved than when you’d been thrown into a room with your bloodied and bruised partner, saying his name over and over, so grateful that he wasn’t dead that you could barely draw breath. You had laid on the far side of the bedroom from him, tugging against your restraints, listening in the dark as he had murmured things to you and you had whispered back: plans of escape or to fight back and then, eventually, as it became clear that neither option was very likely, comforting words.

Your brain is moving faster now and more and more memories burn bright in front of you, each one shoving and fighting to be seen.

Ortiz had arrived then. Your brain flashed with the sour image of him leering over you, his meaty hands groping and fisting handfuls of your body, the sickly stench of his overpriced cologne poisoning your nostrils, making you gag. You felt his evil hand between your legs, searching, digging...but before he’d found purchase the noises had started. You remembered clearly now. You had blocked it out, the memory of that despicable man forcing himself on you.

At just that moment, you had heard the door open behind you. You’d looked up, trying to hold back the wave of memories that was suddenly crashing around you. You saw your partner standing in the doorway of his demolished office and were sure you’d said something to him. But the memory of Ortiz and what he had tried to do to you had sent your body shaking uncontrollably and you felt yourself crumpling inwards as more memories shoved their way through.

You remembered the blinding flash of light behind your eyes and then you remembered the heavy weight of your body being cradled in someone’s steady arms and you remembered hearing Javier’s voice coming from what seemed like a great distance. He’d been begging you for something. When you had managed to get your eyes open you’d seen him next to you in the ambulance. Your partner. You’d felt him squeeze your hand and assure you that he was there. He was your partner. He would always be there for you.

Just like now. He flew to your side, ripping his jacket off and wrapping it around you as you dissolved into a shivering puddle in the middle of his office. You were also distantly aware of Dixon’s voice shouting for someone to call your doctor, her commanding voice booming as she asked what the hell had happened. You heard the familiar voices of Van Ness and Fiestl murmuring, but Javier’s attention was on you. You heard him murmuring to you softly, carefully taking the file from your hands and telling you to breathe, that he was here, that it was going to be ok.

You had every reason in the world to not believe a word he said, to hate him right now. But all you could do was close your eyes as the tremors overtook you, all you could do was lean into him….

All you could do was trust him.

Hours later, Javi sat on the edge of his seat in Dixon’s office. Also in the room was your partner’s doctor, the psychologist she had been seeing the last few weeks, and a representative from the Ambassador’s office. Javier’s nerves were frayed, his muscles tensed, ready to make a move in an instant. Dixon had been interviewing her for close to two solid hours.

He had only been half aware of the line of questioning his boss had been asking you; his focus had been entirely on his partner from the moment he’d found her reading the case file in his office. He had not left her side since she’d looked up at him and said his name. Dixon had arrived on scene moments later and had immediately sprung into action, calling for a full immediate medical inspection. Physically, she was fine. But as the doctor and then the psychologist and now Dixon had asked more questions, it was clear that mentally she appeared to be fully recovered as well, albeit slightly shaken by the abrupt and jarring reappearance of her missing memories.

While Dixon continued to assess her agent’s recollection about recent events, Javi kept his gaze leveled on his partner’s profile. He refused to look away from her. If she started to wobble he wanted to be able to catch her. If she started to shake again, he wanted to be able to step forward and cover her shoulders with his jacket. But his brave partner...his strong, smart, beautiful, brave partner...had moved through the questions with her usual detached grace and stoicism. She had not once looked at him since the moment she’d said his name in his office.

He had shared space with his partner for long enough to be familiar with her body language when she was pissed.

And right now, she was more pissed than he had maybe ever seen her.

He knew she was pissed at him. That was fair. He could also detect a fair amount of anger directed toward their boss even after Dixon had explained why they had made the decisions they had in recent days. The doctor had thrown in his own two cents and as they continued to talk, he felt some of her anger temper towards them. It had flared again when Dixon had explained that they had begun paperwork to send her home; Javi’s heart had started pounding and his hand had grasped the arm of his chair in a death grip. But both his worry and your anger lifted when it became clear that, with the full recovery of her memory, she would be free to continue working as an agent in Columbia, after a full physical and mental assessment had been made and signed off on.

Though her anger had waned towards Dixon, he knew it was a bad sign that his partner was refusing to look at him. When speaking of events in which he was involved, she only referred to him as “Agent Peña” and she had never directed a question at him, instead asking through Dixon for clarification on details: the pretending, the make believe married life, the intricacies of the scheme they had concocted to keep her in her fictitious world of memories. She had been very careful to not ask too many revealing questions...Javi recognized her restraint in what she revealed in her inquiries. He knew what she was attempting to deduce: how far had Dixon instructed him to take the “acting like you're married until her memory comes back”? Her response to anything he said was chilly, to put it lightly and Dixon soon picked up on the cold front, too.

“All right,” the older woman said, leaning forward on her desk and letting out a weary sigh. “I think it’s safe to say,” she gestured toward the Ambassador’s representative, “that no one is going to be sent home today.” The representative nodded in agreement. Dixon rose along with the young man in a suit and directed him and the doctors towards the door. “I’d like to speak to my agent alone if we all feel comfortable with moving forward?” Javi kept his eyes on his partner’s face, her own eyes intentionally avoiding him, instead drilling holes into the American flag hanging behind Dixon’s desk. He willed her to look at him, silently screamed for her to look at him. If she would just look at him, if he could just catch her eyes, just for a moment, he would know. He could see her. She’d be able to see him. She’d be able to SEE how he felt about all of this. He just needed her to LOOK at him.

“Agent Peña…” His silent pleas were interrupted by Dixon, standing next to the open door of her office, holding it wide and clearly waiting for him to get up and leave. He swallowed hard, and started to open his mouth to protest. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say but he couldn’t leave her. He was her partner. What if she needed him?

“Agent Dixon?” His partner’s voice was heavy in the sudden silence of the office. It was edged in steel, cold like ice and dripping with anger. “Perhaps you could see to it that Agent Peña gets his shit out of my apartment before I get home…” Eyes still on the wall in front of her, she let the words land in the space between them. Addressed to Dixon, they served as a slap across his face and he felt as though he’d been shoved in the gut, all of the air leaving his lungs at once.

“Ah. Yes, well….Agent Peña?” Without a word, Javi stood and stalked out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

“You’ve been right about him this whole time,” you say to Dixon after the woman settles back behind her desk. “He’s only ever been after one thing. I should have listened to you. He’s like every other man in the world: only thinks with their dick.”

Dixon steeples her fingers under her chin and studies you for a moment, concern lacing her forehead.

“Tell me more.”

You’re taken aback by this response. Dixon has always been the first to serve up cautionary tales of fraternization with colleagues, has always been able to sense when your restraint against your partner was failing and give you a pep talk to reinforce your will to withstand his flirtations. This was an unusually softer response.

“He just…” You stop, not quite sure what you want to say. You take a deep breath and look at your boss. “We can’t be partners after this.” Dixon starts at your words, sitting up straight.

“That’s…” The older woman studies you for a moment before asking carefully, “Why not?”

You scoff in disbelief.

“How can you expect me to work with him now? To ever trust him again?” When Dixon says nothing, you push on. “He lied to me! He lied SO WELL...I never would have thought he was that good of a liar.” Dixon still doesn’t speak and you rise from your chair and start to pace. “He had me feeling so sure. Sooooo…..so, certain. He worked me REALLY good, Dixon, I gotta tell ya. ‘Sure, I’ll pretend she’s my wife! Maybe THEN I can get in her pants!’ He didn’t even have to work at it! Just let me keep thinking we were married and that we were SUPPOSED to….” you stop yourself from growling out the word “fuck” in front of your boss. You continue, your voice softer now, disbelieving. “He was SUCH a good liar, Dixon. He had me believe-”

“What? That you were married?” The older woman cut you off. “You can’t put that all on him. He was ordered to do that.” You were confused by her sudden defense of him and you stopped your pacing to stare at her. The older woman sat back in her chair and appraised you for a moment before continuing. “Peña debriefed with me every day. Shared probably more than he wanted to about what was happening. I’ll admit, yes, I was initially a little worried about the arrangement. But based on everything he told me, I never thought…” a flash of concern crossed her eyes and she looked at you hard. “I only ever got his side of the story, of course. So, let me just make sure we’re clear, that I’m understanding you correctly: Are you telling me that Peña took advantage of you in this situation?” She waited.

You sat back down heavily in your chair, considering what she was asking you, thinking back over every interaction you had had with Javi since you’d come home from the hospital. Your first day back when he’d found you sobbing in your closet and gently tucked you in bed to rest. The awkward run in after your shower, when he had intentionally turned away from you. The walks around the neighborhood everyday, through the markets, the mundane routines of cooking a meal or watching tv together, reading reports or the paper. His reliable presence sleeping on your couch every night until that thunderstorm when you had been struck by nightmares (now you knew they were memories) and how he had held you so tightly and securely as you’d cried, then how he’d held you in his arms every night following as you drifted off to sleep. You were distantly aware that Dixon was still talking and you tuned back in.

“...because if that’s the case I will ruin him. He will never work again, not if I have anything to say about it. If he lied to me about the situation…”

“No.” You stop her rant, holding up a hand. “It...it wasn’t like that, Dixon. He didn’t. He didn’t take advantage of me. That’s not what I’m saying. It’s just... It wasn’t…."

Wasn’t...what?

It wasn’t real?

Was that why you were so upset? Yes, the sudden return of your memories of a traumatic event had shaken you, but why were you so upset with Javier Peña? He had done what he’d been ordered to do: pretend to be your husband.

You thought back to those most charged and intimate moments between the two of you. From the get-go after your hospital release, he’d been careful not to touch you until you had made it clear it was ok. He hadn’t said a word when he’d seen you in your towel. And, now that you were reflecting on it, all of the intimate moments had been initiated by you. The shower, the early mornings lying next to him in bed, the heavy making out on the couch.

Your mind suddenly reeled to the conversations you had had with him: about your wedding, when you’d asked about wanting kids, the book of poetry you’d found with the pictures in his office. The drunken argument you’d had with him the night before.

“I promise you: It’s all gonna make sense when things are back to how they were….I haven’t lied to you once this whole time. Not once...please, please know I’m doing this because...because I love you.”

Is that why you felt like you could cry at the thought of you facing your partner ever again? Because a small cracked part inside of you had felt complete at the idea of being married to Javier Peña? And now, that had ended up not being true. As your anger and fear from the initial shock of your recovered memories fell away, you were now just left with an aching sadness that something that had felt so real and so right… had actually ended up being nothing at all.

It had felt so real. So true. You had believed him. About all of it.

Javier stared at the ceiling of his apartment, watching the shadows crawl inch by inch towards morning. He had been laying here on his couch for hours, trying to decide if he should give up on sleep and go into work or if he should march downstairs and bang on her door and demand that she talk to him.

He heaved another heavy sigh and threw his arm across his eyes, begging whatever higher power might be listening to put him out of his misery and let him sleep away this nightmare situation for just a little while.

He thought the soft knocking on his door was his imagination at first. Then he heard it again and he bolted upright. His stomach clenched when he saw her through the peephole and he threw the door open, forgetting about his disheveled state of appearance until she swept an appraising eye up and down: shirtless, barefoot, jeans wrinkled and baggy, belt unbuckled hair sticking up in every direction and eyes red-rimmed from smoke and sleeplessness.

“Hey,” He croaked, his voice betraying the relaxed demeanor he hoped to convey. He was so surprised that she was standing in front of him that he forgot to invite her in, and after several moments of saying nothing, she breezed past him through the partially opened door, forcing him to step backwards out of her way and nearly falling over a box of his things that he’d dropped inside the door after hauling it back upstairs.

She hovered in his hallway for a moment or two, staring into the shadows of his apartment, then turned to face him. She held up a wadded ball of something: one of his shirts. The pink one that she’d always given him so much grief about but that he’d found her clutching in the closet that first day back from the hospital. She tossed the shirt into one of the overfilled boxes behind him and then crossed her arms over her chest. The hallway was dark and, like the rest of his apartment, he couldn’t see her face clearly; he moved to turn on a light but her voice stopped him before he made it to the light switch.

“Was any of it real?”

He didn’t ask her to clarify or ask what she meant. He knew what she meant and to pretend otherwise would have only insulted her and made her angrier with him.

“Yes.” It was all he could trust himself to say.

“Which parts?”

She had him. This was the chance he had been afraid he would never get this morning, when he’d been terrified of losing her. She was giving him this moment, this chance to tell her the truth. To tell her how he felt.

But he was a coward. He felt those cowardly claws reach up from inside of him and pull his resolve and courage back down beneath the darkness of himself, of his self-loathing and the hatred he had for who he had become. His gaze flicked away from her, he put a hand on his hip and ran his other through his hair nonchalantly and he shrugged.

“I dunno, it was just…” She took an aggressive step forward into his personal space, causing him to straighten and jolt at her sudden closeness.

“Which parts?” She asked again, more forcefully this time. Her eyes glittered in the shadows and he could see them searching his face, and he found it was easier to look at her here, in the half darkness. He felt a small shred of courage still burning deep within himself and he dove towards it.

“I...I didn’t lie to you. I never told you a lie. Not once. I made sure….I made sure I didn’t ever actually speak a lie to you.” He saw her roll her eyes and he pressed forward while he still had the will to speak. “I know, I know. Omission and all of that. I know. And you’re right. But I didn’t lie to you. And I’m sorry for…” he took a deep breath. He knew this part was important. He needed to get it right. “I’m sorry about the way I...made you feel. About...ya know,” he waved his hand in the space between the two of them. “I didn’t mean for you to feel like I didn’t want to be with you. I know that hurt you. That’s not…” He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “I didn’t want you to hate me when this was all over. I…” He felt his stomach turn watery. “I wanted to…” He looked at her then, his eyes burning into hers for a moment. “I wanted to.” He said again, making sure she knew what he meant. “But I knew you’d never forgive when you got your memory back if I let that happen. And, I’m sorry...this morning...I know it was too close...I just thought…”

When she pressed her warm lips to his, he almost fell backwards over the boxes again, but he was in an instant grateful that she had stopped any further words from stammering out of his mouth. He wrapped his arms around her in part to steady himself but also to pull her the final small distance into him. When she pulled her lips away, he didn’t let go of her and she didn’t make an attempt to move away from the warm embrace of his arms.

“You told me there wasn’t anyone else.” Her warm eyes looked up at him, her lips hovering mere centimeters from his.

“There isn’t.”

“I saw you this morning...with her.” Javi let his forehead fall against hers and he sighed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...I didn’t want for that to happen. I was...I don’t want to sound like a pervert or anything but...I was still thinking about you when she showed up and…” He stopped talking, knowing there was absolutely nothing he could say to excuse himself. “I’m sorry.” He repeated it more softly this time, leaving an opening at the end of the two little words; allowing room for her to take control of what happened next.

They stood like that for several long moments in the dark, her hands linked around his neck, his arms firmly snaked around her waist, palms flat on her back, foreheads resting together, sharing one another’s breath. Then, ever so softly and so timidly he almost didn’t recognize it as her voice, could barely hear her:

“Did you mean it?”

Again he knew better than to act like he didn’t know what she was talking about. He nodded his head against her, holding his breath. She pulled back to look him in directly in the eyes, asking him more loudly this time, seeking the words.

“Did you?”

He had to say it. If he didn’t he would lose her forever, he knew it for certain. She would leave his apartment and never look back.

“Yes.” He had never found a single word so difficult to say. He saw a flash of frustration in her eyes.

“Javi…”

“I love you.”

There.

There it was.

The truth. That was real.

He panicked in the moments that came after, feeling every instinct inside of him screaming to run away. But her gaze and her soft breath on his face and the way her hands softly danced through the short hairs on the back of his neck kept him rooted in place.

Her lips lifted in a small smile.

“Yeah?” she breathed. He couldn’t help but return a small smile.

“Yeah.”

He wasn’t sure if she pulled him to her or if she leaned into him, but her lips were on his again, this time her tongue seeking entrance which he gladly and desperately granted. He pulled her tighter against him, letting a soft moan escape from deep inside him as their tongues tasted each other hungrily. He had never thought something could feel as good as the sensation of her fingers in his hair, tugging gently.

He took his cue from her and when her lips left his and began to travel along his jaw, around his ear, down his neck, he began to let his hands roam her around her hips, kneading handfuls of her backside in his grip. She pressed her full weight into him as he grasped her and the backs of his legs knocked into the boxes again on the floor behind him; he stumbled and they both nearly went crashing to the floor. Instead they did a sharp half-lean, half-fall into the hallway wall, both of them laughing like teenagers but still refusing to break their kiss. Eventually, Javi pulled away with great effort and steadied them both before sliding his hands along the backs of her thighs and patting, signaling her to hop and wrap her arms around his waist, which she happily did. He was surprised to feel a broad smile plastered over his face as he began to walk her towards his front door, peppering kisses along her neck and nibbling her ear.

“Wait!” She pulled away from his lips, looking at him quizzically at the sound of the door opening behind her. “Where the hell are we going?” He grinned up at her sweetly.

“Your apartment. Your bed is way fucking better than mine.” She threw her head back and laughed and he felt his own rumbling leave his own chest and bubble out of his mouth as he watched her face transform with delight amidst the moonlight and soft shadows. God she was so beautiful. She leaned down and kissed him again, fiercely.

He had to stop for a moment, leaning against the wall, the sheer force of her passion bleeding through her kiss into his soul and causing him to lose control of his very sense of self. He felt for a moment like he was floating and was unsure he would be able to support both of them. Then he felt her hands tangle in his hair again and it grounded him, brought his thoughts swimming back through the swirling haze of desire he felt for her. He dropped her to her feet, abruptly and she began to protest, but then squealed with surprise and delight when he immediately leaned into her and chucked her over one shoulder, both of them laughing as he tore down the stairs to her apartment.

Much later, after they had explored and tasted and taken one another several times over, Javi lay tangled in the sweaty bed sheets, perfectly content to live out the remainder of his life with his head nestled comfortable on her soft belly, his eyes drooping and sleepy from sex and utter contentment.

He listened to the sound of her steady breathing and revelled in the gentle rise and fall of his own head as air filled her body and then left it again gently, raising his head slowly and releasing it back down with each breath she took. It reminded him of when he was a boy, going fishing with his dad on the lake in the cold early mornings when the waters were just waking up; the waves lapping the side of the boat and creating a steady up...down...up...down... The memory was peaceful and relaxing, just as this moment with her was now. He would throw himself into the ocean that was her for the rest of his life if she would have him, he thought.

He felt her hand move across her stomach and touch the top of his head. He glanced up at her and saw her gazing back at him with her own set of sleepy eyes. He stared at her for a long while, wanted to say something, wanted to say just the right thing....the perfect thing. The romantic thing.

But then he didn’t have to.

She carefully weaved her fingers through his hair, gave him a small smile, released a soft contented sigh, and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep, smile still dancing across her lips. He smiled, too and turned his face to press a soft kiss into her middle, just between her breasts, above where he could feel her heart beating steadily. Then he returned his head to his original spot and allowed himself to be lulled to sleep by the rhythm and motion of her breath.

Before he slipped down into the soft haze of sleep, his gaze fell upon the delicate white petals edged in pink of plumeria.

They were standing in a vase of water on the table next to the bed. She had put them there at some point after he had brought them to her as a peace offering...was that only the night before? He had felt like he had lived two lifetimes with her these last 24 hours. When they had reached her apartment, time had slowed as they had discovered one another; each time he had spilled himself inside of her or she had cried his name as she came apart around him he had whispered to her once more:

“I love you.”

He had never felt anything like it before, being with her, saying those words. It was passionate and sexy and powerful.

It was real.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, taking in the scent of her, the scent of them, mingled with the soft scent of the flowers that stood watch over them as they slept.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #narcos #narcos fanfic #javi #undercover marriage #undercover married trope #pedro pascal fanfiction

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