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targaryenluvs · 4 months

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Can you make a fic with a dark coriolanus x reader

Post Lucy running away where he stays a peace keeper for some time and he helped reader avoid being picked for the games and he abuses his power as peace keeper against reader whom he helped and holds it over her head (she has no family but her friends are like family) and he does all types of fucked up stuff to her sexually and he fetishizes her for being a woc (reader is a woman of color) and he fetishizes her skin or something and he keeps saying all creepy stuff and he then marries her (after convincing her no one would want her after him) and parades her around and shows off to capitol ppl who also fetishize her and she becomes basically his property with a creepy nickname and you pick the ending

BROWN JEWEL

pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!poc!reader

summary: he was a lifeline and you’d grabbed on in hopes to avoid the reaping, but you were coriolanus’ obsession and he was not going to let you go.

warnings: obsession, abuse of power, nc touching, threats, forced marriage, fetishisation of skin color?? non-con (p in v), public sex, pregnancy, forced marriage, jealousy of infants? kisses, kinda stockholm/reader gives in

wordcount: 3.1k

a/n: audibly gasped reading this rq (i did change it around a bit since some of it i was unsure of how to write and if i felt comfy doing it) i went off track for sure

this was your last year for being involved with the reaping.

just tomorrow then you'd be in the clear for the rest of your life.

you had friends who relied on you, and their families which were practically your own. you’d been raised with them after your parents passed and you owed them your life. you were an amazing hunter and your game kept them going. you were skilled with hunting, medicine, literate because of your best friends mother. you helped them all in so many ways and you knew they needed you.

through your older years, you began to realise you weren’t exactly the same as your friends. their light skin and light eyes in contrast to your darker tones were always a reminder of your unshared bloodline. yet they never treated you any differently.

you had to live for them.

so it was how you ended up in the tree line by the peacekeepers barracks. hoping to bribe one into pulling your name from the bowl before it was placed infront of the justice building. what you didn’t expect was for a soldier to find you first.

“what’re you doing here?” he spoke from behind you as you stumbled to get up. “i... i wanted to talk to someone, to try and uhm, get them to do something for me.” he exuded confidence with his chin in the air and his grip on his gun. he obviously thought he was better than you. “what do you want me to do for you?” you sighed, “i was hoping, to get my name taken out of the reaping bowl.” he tilted his head, a smirk on his face and you wanted to peel your skin off with the way he was looking at you.

“come closer.” and you did, stepping into the moonlight. he found you to be gorgeous, glowing. “i’ll do it.” your eyes widened as you smiled, “thank you!” and he took a step closer to you, “but what will i get in return?”

and that’s when you should’ve run for the hills.

at the reaping ceremony, he coincidentally placed himself right next to your row. his stares were harsh on your back. your hands were sweating and you couldn’t think straight until that name was called, and it wasn’t yours.

“we’re safe.” your friend whispered into your ear as you smiled at her, “yeah, we are.” but for some reason you weren’t convinced. the peacekeeper was on you like a shadow ever since the day before. on the walk home he was following you and you knew it, but if you confronted him you had no clue what he’d do to you. so you felt it best to keep your head down, and get home. you didn’t expect for him to barge his way in.

“what’re you doing?” your voice was shaky and you could feel the perspiration on you, for someone reason this man made your body go haywire and you wanted to leave. “why? can’t i come see the pretty girl i saved?” your head was facing downwards as you began to mumble, “my names only in eight times, my odds were low anyways. a lot of people took tessera.” you heard him click his tongue, tutting and shaking his head in disagreement, “seven.”

he was right infront of you now, and as he bent down to whisper in your ear, you froze up, “i don’t do things for free y/n. when i want something from you, and i do, i will come to collect.” he held your face in his hand as you asked, “what’s your name?” he smiled, “coriolanus, but you can call me corio.” and he held you to it.

every time you saw him he’d be unbelievably smug.

even your friends noticed, “he keeps staring at you, that peacekeeper.” you were having a night out, your senses flooded with music and laughter. but not too far away was coriolanus, downing his beer. you shifted around before slyly looking his way. “it’s probably nothing. you know how these peacekeepers are. i think i’m going to head home.” you kissed her cheek before making your way out and to your home.

you were only a few minutes away when you took notice of the shadow behind you, lurking. “y/n.” you stopped in your tracks and turned his way. “corio.” he grinned at the nickname you used. his expression should've warned you, his words rung through your mind.

an intoxicated man was a dangerous one.

"when i want something from you, and i do, i will come to collect."

corio held you against the shabby wall as his hands held you in place. your pants swamped at your ankles as he rutted into you harshly. “stay quiet for me yeah?” your hands shoved at his chest but it seemed to be pointless.

“please, please corio not here.” coriolanus couldn’t bring himself to listen to you, and he sure as hell didn’t care if someone saw. what were they going to do? you were his, you needed to realise that. the quicker you did the easier it would be for you. your cries and protests went in one ear and out the other, “shh, i’ve got you. don’t worry.” he cooed, ignoring your pleas.

you felt humiliated, treated like trash. taken in an alleyway like a whore, as coriolanus continued on. your legs felt like jelly and your weight rested on the wall behind. his hands came up to lower your shirt, your breasts spilling out. “fuck, you’re made for me. all mine.” he groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his cock.

“come for me baby. come on.” you didn’t want to, you wanted to run away from him but your breath was laboured as your head lolled back. but even with that he wasn’t done with you. he wanted more. he wanted all of you and he wouldn’t stop until he’d had enough. you weren’t sure if he’d ever get his fill.

your cheeks burned as you walked back to your home, cum-stained panties and shame filling you to the brim. acquaintances walked past, you smiled and waved with fake kindness. your feet dragged along, your legs shaky and hands trembling. you wanted to drag the walk out as long as possible.

coriolanus could tell, but he couldn’t do anything yet. so he grit his teeth and walked with determination.

he’d punish you later.

and it was all you knew. almost every night corio crawled into your home, took you all over the house till dawn. and in return you were able to provide your family with everything they could want.

dana has a cold?

the medicine was at the front door hours later.

peter hurt himself at the mines?

a first aid kit was ready to be picked up by noon.

not a single person around you was hungry, sick or uncared for. all thanks to coriolanus. your friends were able to infer where all your resources came from, but you’d never asked for their aid.

you just wanted to help them, in any way you could.

what you didn’t anticipate was coriolanus in your home, tossing your nicest clothes into a suitcase. the jewellery he’d bought, shoes etc. “what’s going on? why are you packing my things?” he didn’t respond, he just kept packing, moving around the room and throwing in things he deemed important.

“we’re leaving, back to the capitol. you’re coming with me, now help me pack.” you grabbed his wrist in a moment of anger, forgetting your place. “let. go. now.” he demanded as you retracted your hand, “i’m sorry. but, you need to talk to me. i’m not going to the capitol corio, this is my home.” you should’ve known he was going to hate your words.

he grabbed your wrists, fingers digging in as you cried out in pain. “you are coming with me, otherwise i am more than happy to hurt you. all the supplies for your friends? gone. you know i won’t hesitate to hurt them. so if you want them to be taken care of, you’ll listen to me. now pack your things and shut up.” he spit out as you pulled away from him.

you didn’t even get to say goodbye.

the capitol scared you to no extent. the prying eyes, the excessive, almost wasteful, wealth and resources. you felt uncomfortable in your own skin. the people of panem viewed you to be a rare phenomenon. as if darker skin was unattainable. it was nothing like district 12, and you knew you’d never fully fit in. but corio wouldn’t let that be.

coriolanus thrived under dr gaul. overtime he’d been provided with an apartment and inheritance courtesy of the plinths and he was happy to indulge his sweet girl with whatever she could wish for.

the most expensive silks, finest jewels. you felt like a little porcelain doll, with multiple faces. you were bound to crack.

by the time coriolanus snow rose to be the president of panem, all the fight in your body was a distant memory, a shell of your former self. "you have everything you could ever wish for," according to your husband, "but you still think of them." his words were filled with disdain but held an ounce of truth.

your heart yearned for home. for peters terrible cooking. for dana’s flower crowns. nights out with your friends singing your heart out before sneaking out to the lake a certain covey had let slip on. a simple life.

but it all felt to be out of your grasp, far in the back of your mind.

presidential campaigns, parties, shopping, and super rich kids with nothing but fake friends. it was all your new normal. the residents of panem tolerated you for being the first lady of panem, admired you for your looks, and despised you for your background.

you’d never felt more alone.

you found solace in your children. ciron, your baby boy. only five years old but undeniably bright. he was ahead of most children his age in studies, able to remember so much in such a small mind. he was the spitting image of coriolanus. the old coriolanus. curly blonde hair, striking blue eyes. but his kindness, his care for others? that was all his mother. he was the perfect mix, and a huge mommy’s boy. the second he learned something knew he rambled on about it, only to you. he loved to play with your hair, curling it around his fingers.

“now we match mommy!” he smiled as you picked him up, resting him on your hip. “now i’m almost as pretty as you baby.” you teased as you attacked him with kisses on his face. he squirmed in your arms, small hands coming to cover his face. the noise seemed to wake caroline, her squeals and cries echoing through the home.

“shh, we have to be quiet okay?” ciron nodded as the two of you made your way to her nursery. it was caroline’s first birthday today, and coriolanus had spared no expense on your account. the celebration was to be held at your home, filled with people who couldn’t care less. but you just wanted to give her what you never had. a party at the presidents house was rare, and a lot of the hadn’t seen you in a while.

caroline was all you. darker skin than ciron, olive like. brown eyes and dark hair.

during your pregnancy with ciron, coriolanus showed you off to the people. you were regularly seen out and about, at parties, shopping, walking etc. coriolanus took any opportunity to parade you about to the people of panem. something out of their reach but so sweet, so beautiful. you despised it, being seen as nothing more than his property.

“she’s a fine girl you have coriolanus.” grandma’am spoke as she pinched your cheeks, “just have to take the district out of her.” as if you were an animal to be dissected.

“are there any more of her type?” the man joked as coriolanus’s hand tightened on your waist.

you’d always loved yourself, your hair, your skin color, your body. but it all seemed to be under coriolanus’s ownership the second you’d allowed him to take you to the captiol. no one cared about you. no one bothered to help. they just admired and touched when they could.

so you’d plead with him, begging him to let you rest for the remainder of your pregnancy. he surprisingly agreed, letting you confine yourself to your shared room.

and with cirons birth, you felt hope. his wide eyes, consuming all he could with his sight, his tiny fingers wrapping around your finger. your heart swelled with joy at his face, your saving grace.

coriolanus wanted to pry him from your fingers. for the next few weeks your attention was purely on the boy and coriolanus began to feel neglected. he was already traumatised from his own mothers passing, his sister taking her life. with the announcement of your own pregnancy the thoughts poured in.

would the baby take you too?

would he be forced to listen to your screams?

would he have to raise the baby he despised?

he hadn’t even met your child yet and he'd already made his mind up. the baby was no good, an heir was needed of course but at the cost of his wife? would he pay the price?

your screams of agony and pain clawed at his throat. he felt sick, bile rising as he forced it down. coriolanus would not be seen as weak. but he couldn’t help himself, your hands clutched onto his as a lifeline. your pleas for aid, and coriolanus could do nothing. helpless.

the finest doctors in panem, machinery and medicine yet it all seemed useless.

to you it was worth it, the second you held him in your arms. all the pain in the world if it meant you’d have him as the outcome. one of the nurses placed a pair of scissors in his hands, urging him to cut the cord as coriolanus masked his disgust.

snip!

tigris cooed over the baby as lethargy hung over you like a cloud. “isn’t he the sweetest coriolanus?” all he managed was a nod, his focus on you.

his strong wife, who’d given way to new life. your eyes were fluttering close as you murmured, “ciron.” the doctors and nurses gleefully agreed, “what a fine name!” the head doctor announced as he held him in his arms, a nurse taking him away to be cleaned.

and after all that, you were pregnant once more. another child for the happy family but another nuisance in his eyes between yourself and him.

all you ever cared about was the kids.

“has caroline eaten?”

“is ciron awake?”

“is his teacher here yet?”

“coriolanus, i think we need to take ciron shopping again. he’s growing so quickly!” he knew he should’ve been happy. but all he wanted was for you to be his again. you were always too tired for him, already asleep with ciron by your side, taking his place.

or you were breastfeeding caroline, meaning that he was sure he wasn’t going to get to feel you up that night. too sore, too tired, not in the mood. he couldn’t catch a break.

you’d decided to have caroline and ciron match. baby blue, how sweet!

it’d only been about an hour in and you’d had enough. these people never really moved on. the same comments about how special you were, how lucky you were. compliments stuffed down your throat you were sure you’d gag.

you grounded yourself with caroline, clutching onto her as coriolanus made the rounds. “anna!” you shouted out to one of your servers. “yes, mrs snow?” you refrained from rolling your eyes at the last name, “bring the cake out, now please.” she wasn’t sure, “mr snow said-” you smiled at her, “caroline’s getting fussy, better if we blow the candles out now so i can feed her and get her to bed.” she scurried away to get everything in order as coriolanus found you.

“sweetheart. you can’t hide the birthday girl at her party.” you chuckled, “i know, i know. she’s getting tired, we’re going to have to get the candles out early. cirons already sleepy too, he worked really hard today. i’m so proud of him.” you beamed as coriolanus took a sip from his glass, “oh did he?” he sneered. you were about to reply but the cake being carried out took your attention. “look sweetie! it’s your cake!” caroline lifted her head from your shoulder as you pointed at it.

“come on corio.” he downed his drink before following along. maybe if he was nice you’d fuck him tonight.

the four of you were a picture perfect family, cameras shuttered as everyone sang for caroline. she rested on your side as ciron stood in front of coriolanus, his hands resting on his sons shoulders. a smile plastered on his face. “happy birthday to you!” you bent down with caroline to blow the candles out as everyone cheered.

for once, you felt happy.

you sat infront of caroline’s crib, rocking it side to side. it was around 12 now, the party packed up, ciron in bed sleeping soundly, and coriolanus in his study. it’d been a while since you and coriolanus had been together. your pregnancy with caroline was risky according to doctors and you were told to take it easy. it’d been at least two months since his last time with you, and god he needed release.

once you figured she was asleep you made your way to corios study. “corio? you busy?” you peaked your head through the door to find corio writing away. “come in.” you closed the door behind you as he rolled back in his seat, patting his lap as you plopped down.

“you want something?” you rested your head in the crook of neck, roses infiltrating your senses. “m’ tired, wanna sleep with you.” coriolanus was taken aback for once, in his eyes you’d deprived him of your presence for so long and here you were wanting for him. coriolanus would have to settle for now. he caressed your cheek, “alright, come on.” his arm lifted your legs and you interlaced your fingers behind his neck.

over your time with coriolanus you’d learned to like things about him, since there was no point in you hating him anymore. his voice in the night, whispering to you. his soft hands washing your hair. when he was relaxed, the two of you would bask in eachothers presence, reading silently. baths together, his hands raking through your hair, trailing over your body with care. and as the two of you slept together, in a tight embrace, coriolanus felt at ease.

his brown jewel, all to himself.

#hunger games x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #yandere coriolanus snow

1K notes · View notes

toruro · 6 months

Text

— ✧ flight of the stars

"It’s funny; Minghao’s whole career is about being in the driver’s seat but somehow when it comes to you, he doesn’t know when to press on the gas or hit the brake."

you go following flights to the stars, and these cars can get us home (zayn)

genre: smut (18+ / mdni), f1 au, brief high school au, angst, fluff

description: being a doctor, you think you should feel guilty when you start to enjoy the presence of a “regular” a little too much, but who can blame you for missing your patient when he's xu minghao. you know—the xu minghao: crown jewel of SECTOR Racing, top pick of the season, and possibly the one person who knows more about you than anyone else in the world.

tags: character death (not reader / hao), discussion of medical issues, descriptions of pain, pining, racer minghao, physiotherapist reader, probably inaccurate representation of physiotherapy, also featuring kwannie, sollie, cheol, wonu, & hannie

w/c: 13.3k

fic playlist

a/n: oh. always thank u to @gyuswhore for helping me w this, and special smooches to han for going over this w me too ^^

smut tags. oral (m receiving), pet names (baby)

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Cheol is going to kill Minghao when he finds out he somehow managed to screw himself over while training. Well, only if Minghao doesn’t kill himself first.

It was just supposed to be a regular session, doing some standard neck exercises with Wonwoo, his training partner. General training shit—you know, the stuff Minghao needs to do so his neck doesn’t snap in half the next time he races and then—pang! Pain flares up in his muscles when Wonwoo adjusts the controls on the harness around Minghao’s head a little harder, the latter losing his form in a moment of unexpectancy.

His hand flies up immediately Wonwoo stops, shutting off the controls and loosening the tether attached to Minghao’s harness, releasing all the tension. “Are you good?” he asks, taking a step closer as he takes in the sight of the racer.

Wonwoo’s heart sinks into his chest when he finds Minghao’s head and neck unmoving, staring straight down as his breaths begin to grow shaky, and—crap, his eyes are glossy and—oh fuck, Wonwoo might just shit his pants.

“Hao—” Wonwoo calls out again, this time his voice drenched with worry as he reaches out to try and untie the harness from around his friends head, but as his hand brushes over the back of his neck, Minghao shifts a little and that’s when Wonwoo hears it—a sharp gasp following by Minghao muttering under his breath:

“G-get the medic.”

His voice is labored and Wonwoo knows exactly what to do and nothing at the same time. His mind is racing because holy crap, SECTOR probably just lost their best racer for a few months, if not the entire racing season, and it’s all because of this stupid neck training session, and—Wonwoo stops himself from thinking about what this means for Minghao’s work and forces himself to scramble back, running out of the training room and down to the nursing hall.

Five minutes and several phone calls later, Minghao is being loaded into a stretcher. He doesn’t say a word though, doesn’t know what to say.

Five hours and even more phone calls later, Minghao is sitting up with a brace around his neck, and his manager and friends around his hospital bed (Wonwoo and Hasnsol are to his left while Seungcheol stands on his right).

“So you’re telling me I won’t be able to compete for the rest of the season?” Minghao finally scoffs out after a couple minutes’ worth of silence in tense air.

“We don’t know that yet,” Cheol responds, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches the racer carefully. Minghao’s lips are curved down in a heavy frown but his eyes remain unwavering as he finally looks up at his manager.

“Fuck,” he breaths out.

“Does it hurt a lot?” Hansol asks worriedly, and Minghao knows that his friend is only just concerned for him but all the pain and frustration is already starting to bubble up inside of him.

“Like a bitch,” he mutters bitterly.

Seungcheol sighs deeply, stepping closer to the bed. He knows the situation isn’t easy for Minghao—it isn’t easy for anyone—and he’s aware of the stakes involved for the team. “Hao, you know we’ll do anything to get you back on the track as soon as possible.”

Minghao scoffs, not meeting the eyes of his manager. “Yeah. I know.”

Wonwoo nearly flinches at the stillness of his friend’s voice. “I’m sorry,” he finally says loudly, causing the other three in the room to look at him. “I messed up with the controls—it’s my fault, and I—”

“It’s fine,” Minghao huffs, tearing his eyes away from his friend. “It was an accident.”

It’s not fine. It’s not fucking fine at all and—

Deep breaths, Minghao reminds himself, but when he actually starts to think about the ache that blooms from his neck and down his spine, it gets harder and harder to keep his cool. He feels like he’s ‘bout to pop a vein from all the blood that’s rushing through his body, the only thing snapping him out of his trance being Wonwoo’s voice.

“You’ll start seeing a physiotherapist tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Best to start the recovery process early, Minghao thinks to himself, mildly calming his irritation. He purses his lips, trying to navigate the cluster of thoughts that plague his mind until he finally musters up the courage to ask, “How long is it gonna take? T-to heal?”

His friends look at him solemnly, and Minghao feels his heart sink right down to his stomach.

“We don’t know.”

“You already sa—” Minghao stops himself from saying something he might regret. “Could I actually be out the whole season?”

There’s silence until Cheol finally decides to speak up.

“There’s a chance.”

Minghao thinks he might scream.

“Hey Seungie!” you chirp, walking into the reception of your office with a bright smile. Your best friend greets you with only an eye roll as you approach his counter at the front, peeking at him from over his monitor.

“I told you to stop calling me that in public!” he whines, nose scrunched up as you laugh at the way he’s pouting.

“No one’s even here, no one’ll hear anything,” you try to reason as he huffs and turns away, refusing to look at you.

“Still!”

You sigh, putting down a brown bag on the floor before raising your hands up in surrender. “Okay fine, I’m sorry.”

“Are you really?”

This time, you roll your eyes. “Yes … Seungie—”

“I hate you!” Seungkwan roars as you double over laughing. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! I’m officially disowning you as my best friend.”

You gasp, stepping back and picking up the brown bag again. “Are you kidding me? And here I thought I would’ve liked to share one of my Americanos with you but I guess not …” you sigh dramatically, starting to walk away as you lift the bag to wave it in Seungkwan’s face.

“I was just joking! Come back! How could I disown you as my best friend—c’mon, you know I was just joking,” he pleads from behind you.

You grin as you turn around and walk back to him with a grin. “You’re horribly unpersuasive. Like your acting skills are actually an abomination,” you tell him, pulling out one of the cups of the cold drink and handing it to Seungkwan. “You’re lucky I love you,” you continue, laughing a little as Seungkwan snatches the cup away hastily with a bashful “thanks” under his breath.

“Okay, well ditto to you too,” he barks back. “Who else would put up with you and your ugly crying over Taylor Swift music videos?”

“Hey! Wildest Dreams is a lyrical, musical, theatrical, melodcial masterpiece! ”

“Okay, first of all, melodical isn’t even a word, and even if it was—” Seungkwan is cut off by the ringing of the office phone line. “I probably need to answer this but we are not done with this conversation,” he shoots at you.

You giggle, waving him off and heading down one the hall to get to your office, barely catching what Seungkwan is saying, or who he’s even talking to. It vaguely crosses your mind that it’s a bit too early in the morning for your office to be getting work calls, but you brush it off as you slip past your door and into your little room.

It’s a nice little space you’ve made for yourself; your physiotherapy firm was set up a few years back, and you’d even recently gone through a certification process to belt yourself as one of SECTOR’s physiotherapists. Pretty exciting stuff when you think about it—being able to work with such top-notch racers (albeit under rather unfortunate circumstances), and you get to do what you love at the same time.

Now, you haven’t actually gotten any big-shot patients yet, and you’ve started to appreciate that more recently. It’s not as stressful, and you don’t have to navigate a possibly awkward doctor-patient relationship with someone who’s dealing with what might be a career-changing injury.

You wonder when you’ll stop forgetting that your luck ran out years ago.

Just as you set your bag down and slip into your chair to answer some emails, Seungkwan is knocking on your door and walking in. “Hey, uh, this is kinda important,” he tells you, pointing behind him at his desk where he was taking the call.

“What’s up?” you ask, slightly worried by Seungkwan’s quick change in demeanor from playful to serious.

“Some doctor at SECTOR’s facility just called and—” Crap, you know where this is going already. “—Xu Minghao just fucked up his neck. Like yesterday. And he’s getting discharged from the hospital in a few hours hopefully and they’re gonna send him over right away so you can take a look and start working with him.”

You press your lips together tightly, head going slightly dizzy at the mention of his name. Of course, when you finally got yourself licensed to practice under SECTOR, you were aware of the possibility of working with him, but this feels a little too real and a little too fast.

“You good?” Seungkwan asks, snapping you out of your haze. “Lost you for a second—it looks like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“Sorry, just zoned out,” you laugh stiffly, turning on your computer and taking a shaky breath. “I’m a bit nervous I guess. I’ve never worked with a professional like him—at least not yet,” you continue to say, and it’s not entirely a lie.

You are nervous, and in any other situation you would try your best to just not think about the situation but given Xu Minghao is going to step into your office in a few hours, you figure you should get to work right away.

Seungkwan steps out soon, saying, “You got this. Seriously, you’ve been working so hard for so long and you finally get to work with one of the big shots!”

Chuckling at his optimism, you finally open the email application on your monitor. Your inbox is flooded with emails, most of which are a series of X-rays and MRI scans of your soon to be patient, and so taking a deep breath, you dive in.

“Hey Hannie, did you sanitize Room C?” you ask one of your (few) employees as he steps out from the supply room behind the reception.

“Shoot, was it supposed to be C? I’m sorry, I cleaned up B, but I can go to C and get it sanitized right now—” he starts to say, turning towards the supply room at the end of the hall.

“Hey wait no it’s okay, I just asked for C ‘cause it’s a bit bigger but it doesn't really matter. Don’t worry about it—have you had your lunch break yet?”

“Nah not yet, I was just about to step into that with Seungkwan, but he’s taken a moment to grab coffee from the cafe across the street.”

You chuckle, “Already? I got him an Americano only a few hours ago …”

Jeonghan laughs out loud at that, slipping off his cleaning gloves and patting his hands down on his scrubs. “You know how Seungkwan is with his Americanos.”

“Don’t remind me—he’s crazy. I don’t know how he ingests that much caffeine and still functions like a normal human being but—”

Seungkwan’s voice cuts you off. “I know you guys are talking about me but I’d suggest you take a break and go get ready because I swear I just saw a car with SECTOR’s logo on the back pull up onto the street right up front.”

Oh fuck. You’re already starting to feel awfully nervous.

“Shit, really? I didn’t think they’d be here as early as noon,” Jeonghan says quickly, tossing the gloves and turning to you for instruction. “Anything we need to do?”

“Guys, just chill,” you say casually. Ironic, you think to yourself, because you feel like your heart might pound right out of your chest any second now. “Just handle this like you would any other patient. I’ll probably have to talk to his manager, but while we’re doing that Jeonghan can take Xu into B and just ease him into things. Lay off the tension, you know? He’s probably stressed out as is.”

“Noted,” Jeonghan nods as he walks down the hall, and then you turn to the door of the reception where you see a group of three people walking up.

You try to make out their figures; that one on the left’s probably one of SECTOR’s health directors, and the one on the right is … that’s Choi Seungcheol isn’t it? The one who sent you the emails? He’s Xu Minghao’s manager, you’re pretty sure of it.

You straighten your back when the front door opens, clutching the clipboard full of prints of the scans you were sent earlier. Setting your eyes straight, you take a deep breath and finally take in the sight of the three people filling into the reception.

Yup, there’s Choi Seungcheol … and then Cho Miyeon following behind and she’s pushing a—shit, it’s Xu Minghao in all his glory.

Well, you’re not sure how wondrous he feels right now in that wheelchair, eyes cold as he stares at the floor. His neck’s held up in a thick brace that you can see reaches down under his shirt and over his shoulders; he doesn’t look up, and for a moment you’re grateful.

It puts off the question though, the words that linger in the back of your mind.

Will he recognize you? Well, more importantly …

Does he even remember you?

You rid yourself of the personal thoughts when Choi Seungcheol approaches you, holding out his hand to you. You shake it, strong and firm as he smiles awkwardly. “Nice to meet you, thanks for making time for us today.”

“No problem,” you reply with a nod as Jeonghan comes in from the hallway. “My assistant, Jeonghan here can take Mr. Xu to one of our rooms while I talk with you two about a few things. Does that work?”

“Yeah, sounds great,” Seungcheol nods, motioning Jeonghan to Minghao in his wheelchair behind him. The racer keeps his head down as Jeonghan brushes over and starts pushing him down the hall to Room B. You wonder if he’s even noticed you.

As Jeonghan goes off, you turn back to the other two still in the reception and point at your room. “Shall we?”

Once the three of you settle down, Seungcheol and Miyeon sit across from you, the former speaks up. “Thanks for seeing us on such short notice—this all happened really quick and if you can't already tell, we’re kind of desperate to get him back in the driver’s seat as soon as possible.”

“No worries, please. These kinds of situations are exactly what I’m here for,” you tell them, and they both seem to crack a small smile of relief. “Now I spoke with the doctor that examined him at the hospital, and then briefly with Ms. Cho,” you say, motioning towards the woman on your right, “And there’s a general understanding that Mr. Xu’s suffered a pretty serious strain in his neck muscles.”

“Yeah, uh—how long is this going to take to heal?” Seungcheol pops in, and you sigh.

“I can give you a range, but it’s not so definite … I’d say between three to five months,” you tell him. “But again, it’s different for every patient. Muscle strains aren’t like a clean break or fracture where we can determine almost exactly when it’ll be healed … this stuff is going to take more time and it varies from person to person as well. It all kind of depends on Mr. Xu’s body, and that’s what I’m here for—to help figure out what works for him.”

“We understand that, thank you,” Miyeon nods, sitting straighter in her seat. “How often should he be coming in?”

“Hm, I’ll give you a definite answer after checking in with him today, but to estimate, I’d say around 2-3 times a week, while also using my suggestions outside of our sessions.”

You finish the conversation with the two after that, excusing yourself as you let them back into the reception before knocking on the door to Room B. Jeonghan opens the door from the other side and quietly closes the door behind him before pushing you a little deeper into the hallway.

“He seems like, really sad, so—”

“Well, duh. It’s a serious injury,” you say with a roll of your eyes. Jeonghan clicks his lips and nudges your shoulder.

“Whatever. I’m just telling you to tread carefully,” he says as you make your way to the door. You don’t respond to Jeonghan as you slip in. Minghao’s turned away from you as he sits on his wheelchair in the middle of the room you purse your lips before taking a deep breath and nodding.

You got this. Seungkwan was right—you’ve worked too hard for too long to be rendered anxious ‘cause of a silly little overlap of your past with your patient.

“Hi Mr. Xu,” you greet, making your way to the table right by where he sits, finally seeing him up close. He doesn’t look at you. “I’m pretty sure you already have heard enough about what’s wrong with your neck right now, so let’s talk about how we can make it better, yeah?”

You hear a gruff, “Sure,” escape his lips, and you figure that given his circumstances, it’s understandable.

“The report says that when you first started feeling the pain you couldn’t move your right arm even a little without it hurting in your neck, right?” you clarify as you sit at the chair between him and your table.

“Yeah.”

“Is it better now?”

“A little. Can move my forearm but moving my shoulder still hurts.”

“Okay, this is a good sign actually—you’re getting through the initial stages of healing just like normal. The first week or so of strain like yours might be pretty painful, but it’s over quickly and the pain after that should be pretty bearable, although it’ll take more time for it to heal.” You tell him, looking away to glance at the scans.

As he stares at the ground, Minghao wants to scream. Good sign? What the fuck are you talking about—he can’t even lift his goddamn arm without it feeling like there’s daggers plunging into his neck, and you’re here sitting all calm faced, pristine, acting like this isn’t his fuckin’ career on the line. Acting like your words are gonna make a difference as long as he’s in this stupid ass brace with this stupid ass injury in this stupid ass room with—who the fuck even are you?

His head hurts, and Minghao thinks it’s partly because of his neck, but it’s mostly because he can’t stop thinking. Thinking about the worst possibilities, thinking about everything that could go wrong and—well shit, he chides himself for letting his anger get the better of himself, even if it was just in his head.

Shamefully, he presses his eyes shut and takes a deep breath before finally lifting his gaze and turning to face you. When you look up from your paper and finally turn back to him, you’re met with the sight of pretty brown eyes staring right back at you.

“I—” Minghao starts, but it sounds like the air got stuck in his throat as he finally takes in your figure, and then he purses his lips together and turns back away. “Nothing.” the possibilities of what he could have been thinking ruins your mind just a little.

You can see it in his eyes—Minghao remembers. Still, he doesn’t say anything about it, and you wonder if you prefer things to stay that way.

“What time is Xu scheduled for on Wednesdays? He’ll be coming in on Wednesdays, right?” Jeonghan asks as he steps into your office.

“Uh, he’s coming in for a session from 11-2 today—which, by the way, could you set up Room C for that? I can’t remember if I already put that on the to-do list.”

“Yeah I did it yesterday after our last patient of the day, I was just wondering. You’re gonna lead it with him this time, right?”

“Yeah, since it’s the first session. You were right about him being … apprehensive—”

“Sad,” Jeonghan corrects you. “A sad, sad boy.”

“Yeah well, go figure,” you sigh out of sympathy. “Anyways, like I said, it’s understandable for him to be frustrated, so I’ll work with him at first to ease him into things and stuff. You can start taking over more of the sessions once he warms up to the whole process, and once we figure out and set a routine.”

“Okay great. Does this mean I can go out for my lunch break at 11:30?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” you reply with a casual shrug as Jeonghan thanks you and slips away. You shift your attention back to your monitor before glancing through the initial medical reports you were sent by the hospital, and then the results of your own tests you ran during your first session with Xu Minghao.

It’s a shitty injury, you’ll have to admit. A neck strain on the muscles closest to his right shoulder, not only rendering his neck immobile for a period of time, but also hindering his abilities to move his right arm.

Must hurt like a bitch—physically and mentally—and the image of him staring down at the ground burns in the back of your mind.

With a sigh, you silently wonder if you could offer him the same solace he gave you.

Xu Minghao shows up to your office two hours later with Choi Seungcheol pushing him inside on his wheelchair, and you’re thankful to see that his stature looks much more relaxed than before. “I’ll come by at 2, right?”

“Yeah, that’ll be great. Thank you,” Jeonghan tells Mr. Choi with a smile before taking control of Minghao’s wheelchair and strolling him into the room. You’re already there and waiting for him, standing up to greet him with a smile.

“Hi Mr. Xu,” you say, thanking Jeonghan as he leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

“Morning,” he says quietly, not quite meeting your gaze. The air isn’t as thick as it was the first day, but there seems to be some invisible barrier between the two.

“How’s the pain right now, Mr. Xu?” you ask, pulling out a notepad on your computer to jot down some notes.

Your patient’s eyebrows furrow, and for a second you have a feeling this might be harder than you thought, but his next words are more comforting than anything. “Uh, can you just call me Minghao? Mr. Xu is … it’s weird.”

“Y-yeah of course, sorry about that, Minghao,” you nod with a half smile. “So could you tell me how things are feeling?”

“I guess it hurts less. I don’t really move that much so I can avoid hurting myself though—kinda in this thing most of the time anyways,” he replies gruffly, hitting the left side of the wheelchair with his palm.

“Do you stand up? Walk around at all?”

“Not often.”

“Okay so I think we’re going to try and change that soon,” you tell him. “We’ll do some mobility checks today but if it doesn’t hurt to move your shoulder a little, then I think it’s best you move as much as you can without pain. Honestly, you’re going to be injured for a while and—”

You pause when you hear Minghao inhale sharply at that, making a mental note to soften your words a little.

“—and we don’t want you to be immobile. If you can move, try to. We’ll try and get you out of the wheelchair within the next two weeks, how does that sound?”

Minghao’s ears perk up at that. “Two weeks? Only?”

You nod happily at his sudden energy and the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Yeah, you know the wheelchair is just so you don’t move your upper body too much but like I said the last time we met, the initial stages are pretty painful but once it’s over, you’ll be more mobile. Of course, you won’t be able to get back to racing and training right away, but you’ll be able to be a lot more active than you are now.”

“How long will it take before I can start training again?” Minghao asks curiously, finally looking you straight in the eye with parted lips.

The desperation is painful to watch.

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, watching his shoulders deflate. “At least two months.”

“Two months?”

“At the least,” you say with a held breath.

“At the most?” Minghao asks hopefully.

You purse your lips. “At the most? … A year?”

“A year? That’s more than a whole racing season!”

“Yes but neck strains are fickle and we can’t let anything go wrong, and due to the nature of your sport, you really—”

“I think I know the nature of my own sport,” Minghao scoffs, and with the way he says it, you don’t know if you should be mad or sad or disappointed or a mix of all three.

“I—” you pause, “I understand your frustration Mr.—Minghao, but my job is to make sure you’re one hundred percent healed before you set foot on the track again, so please be patient and allow yourself to heal.”

Something about those last few words rings in Minghao’s ears, and he zones out for the rest of what you’re saying.

Allow yourself to heal. Fuck.

Minghao stays pretty much silent for the rest of the session, and you’re not quite sure if it’s out of complacency or indifference. You go through some slow mobility exercises, and figure out a good range for him to stay in for the next few days.

“Make sure you practice those movements every day,” you note once you near the end of today’s session. “I’ll send you an email listing all of them with instructions so you remember. Please try and do them every day, and it’ll hopefully speed up the recovery process.”

“Thanks,” Minghao murmurs as he carefully sits back down in his wheelchair.

“Is there anything else you’re doing in your free time right now?” you ask, trying to make casual conversation as you start to type up your list.

“Not really. I watch practice videos and stuff, I guess.”

You hum, not really responding until you finally finish the list and send it to his email. “I sent the list, you should start using it tomorrow. Anyways, I think you should try crocheting,” you tell him casually.

Minghao gives you a sideways glance as he raises an eyebrow. “… Crocheting?”

“Yeah,” you say with a shrug, finally turning around to face. “You know, with yarn and stuff.”

“I know what crocheting is.”

“I-I know,” you say awkwardly, slightly thrown off your game by his bluntness. “You won’t have to move your shoulders, only your forearms, so it’s fine.”

“But why?”

“It’s fun. And a nice way to pass time, especially when you can’t move around a lot. Plus, it’s always good to have something to distract yourself from—” You pause, thinking about how to finish your sentence. “—from shitty stuff, y’know?”

Minghao chuckles, and your heart swells a little when you finally see him break a smile. “Yeah, I guess.” There’s a long pause. “Shitty stuff, huh?”

You laugh, nodding. “Yeah. Shitty stuff.”

“You and your stupid Americanos,” you sigh, watching Seungwkan grin as the barista hands him his drink.

“Stop acting like you don’t indulge in me too. Getting me all those Americanos in the morning … I should blame you for this addiction!”

“So you admit it’s an addiction!” you exclaim triumphantly, waving your hands in the air. Seungkwan rolls his eyes, leaving you to sit at a table in one of the corners of the cafe. Laughing at his silent admission of defeat, you wait for your drink patiently.

It’s only a few more moments before the barista is back at the counter, calling out, “Honey lavender latte!” With a smile, you walk over, about to reach for the drink before a hand beats you to it.

Frowning, you look up at the man who’s holding your drink before you say, “Hey, I’m sorry, I think that’s my drink.”

“Uh, honey lavender latte? I’m pretty sure I ordered this,” he says. You look at him with a funny expression on your face, eyes darting between the drink you ordered and the drink that’s in his other hand. He catches your suspicion and shakes his head quickly. “It’s for my friend, I ordered for the both of us so I could get us a spot.”

“Oh,” you breath out, figuring that it probably isn’t a lie. “S-sorry for the misunderstanding. I just—” you chuckle, watching some of the tension from the man’s shoulders wither away. “I ordered the same thing—”

“Oh sorry, I—my friend isn’t here yet so you can just take this and I’ll wait for the other to come out,” he offers, watching your face, and you see something in his expression change. “Hey wait, you look really familiar,” he murmurs.

Your eyebrows furrow as you silently thank him when he hands you the drink. “Uh, are you sure? I’m sorry, I just—I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before,” you admit with an awkward chuckle.

The man shakes his head and laughs quietly to myself. “No, I swear I’ve seen you somewhere, but I’m just blanking on it right now—sorry this is probably so weird but—” The bell of the front door rings and he shoots his head to see who’s coming in, eyes lighting up. “Oh hey, Hao! Was just waiting for you!”

Hao? Mingh—

You lock eyes as soon as he walks in.

The man from before beams as he walks up to him as your eyes finally break away, and Minghao turns to his friend. “Hansol,” he greets with a small smile, and it’s a pleasant sight to see your patient—who’s more often monotone than not—seem a bit more at ease than before.

“How’re you doing? Was just waiting on your drink and—” the man—Hansol—points at you with eyes as wide as saucers, “—oh by the way, doesn’t she look really familiar?”

You chuckle nervously, breaking out an awkward smile and waving at Minghao who returns you by raising his left arm in a sort of half-wave before turning his attention to Hansol to give him a blank stare. “Yeah, she’s kinda like my physiotherapist dude.”

This time, you chuckle a bit more genuinely, eyes darting between the amused smirk that’s just barely there on Minghao’s lips, and Hansol’s agape stare.

“Ohh shit, yeah that’s where I saw you! Cheol and Miyeon were talking about you when they were booking you for Hao at the hospital, and I saw your picture on the screen,” Vernon explains as the realization hits him.

“Oh,” you laugh lightly. “That’s funny,” you reply as you turn your attention to Minghao, “Good to see you’re getting out of that wheelchair. I bet it feels nice to finally stretch your legs and stuff,” you say. If Minghao could move his neck without eruptions of pain, he’d nod his head.

For now though, he settles on smiling and saying, “Yeah, it’s refreshing.” His eyes wander around you, taking in how you aren’t dressed in your usual work attire, but rather clad in a cute outfit. “Is that my drink?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed as he points at the coffee you’ve just taken a sip of.

Hansol laughs and shakes his head. “You two got the same drink so when it came out, I just let ‘er have it, since you weren’t here yet.” He glances around before putting his drink down at a nearby table. “Shit, I think I left my laptop in my car,” he murmurs, looking at his friend. “I’m gonna go get it so I can show you those videos I was talking about.”

“Yeah, that’s chill,” Minghao agrees. Hansol smiles at you and then his friend before quickly retreating from the cafe to get to the parking lot, leaving you and the tall man standing in silence. It’s a few passing moments where you awkwardly sip on your drink before something pops in your mind.

“Hey, it’s actually really funny that you’re seeing me right now because—well it’s not funny funny, but it’s a nice coincidence so I guess that counts as funny but—anyways, look, I crocheted this cardigan.” You smile, lifting your arms a little so he can see the dark, navy blue fabric you made yourself, before turning around to show off the light blue, striped pattern on the back. “Cool, right?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty. Nice color scheme and all,” Minghao agrees.

“Thanks. Have you started crocheting? I can send you some videos to get you started,” you offer. Just as Minghao is about to reply, the barista from behind you calls out another order of your drink, causing both of you to glance back. “Oh, you wait there; I’ll get it,” you say, putting your drink down on the same table Hansol did before walking over to grab Minghao’s drink and hand it back to his left hand.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to,” he says as your fingers brush over each other before falling back to your side. “Isn’t your friend waiting for you?”

“Of course I have to. I’m your doctor! I can’t make you do that,” you reason before pointing back at your best friend. “And are you talking about Seungkwan? Looks like he’s having the time of his life doing—” You turn your head around to glance at him before looking back at Minghao, “—doing god knows what on his phone and—”

“Are you talking about me?” you hear Seungkwan’s voice calling from a few meters away, and the way you cringe has Minghao stifling a giggle. “All good things I hope!” he continues.

“You know it!” you shoot back sarcastically, only to be followed by Seungkwan’s rolling eyes. “That little shit. I pay his bills!” you exclaim, a faux frown making its way onto your face.

Minghao laughs, his head throwing back a little. The small movement flares up a bite of pain in his neck, causing his breath to get stuck in his throat, eyes widening as he slowly shifts back into a comfortable position.

“Sorry,” you murmur sheepishly.

If Minghao could shrug without feeling like his neck would snap in half, he would. Instead, he raises his eyebrow playfully when he says, “Are you seriously apologizing for being funny?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m retracting my apology.”

It’s been around three weeks since you started working with Minghao. He’s warmed up to you a fair amount, and ever since you saw him at the cafe, the air around you two has been lighter.

It’s still a bit awkward at times—skitting around the moments where you wonder if you should say something about the elephant in the room before shaking your head and biting your tongue. Then again, given how often you see Minghao, you’ve gotten used to it.

Seungkwan stops by your office this morning when he walks into work. “Morning,” he greets, dropping a small brown bag by your desk as you file through some papers.

“Ooh, thank you,” you tell him gleefully, taking a break from your task to glance at the chocolate muffin that sits inside of the bag. “I’ve been craving this,” you admit, reaching in and picking out a small piece to stuff into your mouth.

“Your welcome,” Seungkwan sighs, sitting down on the seat in front of you. “Anyways, I found something cool that I don’t think you told me.”

You raise your eyebrows at him skeptically. “Yeah? What is it?”

“You and Xu Minghao are from the same hometown!”

You roll your eyes. “Why do you still keep calling him Xu Minghao? He’s told us to just say Minghao, and even if he didn’t, it’s awkward when you say his full name like that.”

Seungkwan scoffs at you, reaching his hand over to try and flick your forehead but you dodge. “Because he’s Xu Minghao. I can’t believe you aren’t still jumping up and down for getting to work with him, seeing how much you love SECTOR.”

“You want me to be happy that the best racer from my favorite team is injured?”

“Ugh, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Whatever,” you shrug, a small hint of a smile peeking from your lips.

“Anyways, you didn’t answer what I actually said. Why didn’t you tell me you guys are from the same area? That’s so cool!”

“I mean I guess,” you say with a shrug.

“And you guys are the same age so—wait, did you go to school together? Oh my god, are you guys like—I don’t know, long lost best friends or something?” Seungkwan’s eyes widen. “Oh, that’d be so cool—I could totally see a movie on this and—wait! If he’s your long lost best friend, where does that leave me? You better not replace me with him!”

You laugh at the progression of his thoughts, almost choking on your second bite of the muffin. “We did go to school together,” you admit. “It’s not like we crossed paths though. He kinda just, I don’t know, existed back then. So no worries for you, you’re not getting replaced any time soon … unfortunately,” you add with mischievous giggle.

“Better not …” Seungkwan huffs.

Minghao comes in a few hours later for his afternoon session. Jeonghan works with him for the first two of the three hours, and you walk in for the last hour. You go over some more mobility exercises, before finally sitting down so you can discuss his progress.

“So things are going really well,” you start to tell him, beginning to list off a couple signs of development which stood out to you. You’re about to commend him on keeping up the exercises everyday, when you notice him staring at the floor with a blank expression. “H-hey, Minghao?” you ask, clearing your voice when he doesn’t respond. “Minghao.”

His eyes shoot up to yours, shoulders tensing for a second before he lets out a deep breath. “Sorry, zoned out for a second.”

You chuckle nervously, wondering if it’s okay if you probe just a little. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Minghao replies casually, but you catch the way he doesn’t meet your gaze. “Just thinking about last night’s race.”

“Oh, Singapore?”

“Yeah.”

“I was able to catch a bit of it last night, but I passed out. It seemed intense though—you see Kim’s pit stop?”

“Yeah, it was kinda insane,” Minghao says breathily. His expression is unreadable, but he’s continuing to respond and so you choose to let things go on naturally. “He’s been living up to his talent now that his shitbox is back to what it’s supposed to be.”

“Can’t imagine how frustrating it is.” Fuck, when Minghao’s shoulders drop, it feels like you said something you probably shouldn’t have.

I can imagine, Minghao thinks after hearing your response, but he bites back the words. “Yeah,” he says dejectedly instead.

Silence. This seems like a good chance to change the topic.

“Uh—” Sorry, you want to say, but you choose to hold your breath instead. “I have good news.”

“Oh?”

“We can get you out of the neck brace today,” you tell him happily.

Minghao’s eyes light up. “Really?”

“Yeah, your progress has been great. Didn’t want to tell you earlier to get your hopes up, in case something went wrong, but everything has been looking really good and you’re at the point where we usually take any supports like braces off.”

Minghao grins, and it’s a stark contrast from the grim shadow cast on his face just moments earlier. You take a few moments to go over the procedures with him, helping him out of the foamy, firm brace with gentle hands and watchful eyes.

“How’s it feeling?” you ask, setting the brace down by one of your counters so you can dispose of it later.

Minghao lets out a low groan of what you can only assume is relief when he looks up. “Like my skin can finally breathe,” he sighs heavily, a bright smile taking over his features as you turn to face him.

“I’m happy for you,” you tell him, before beginning a quick examination process of the area under the brace and going through some quick motions.

“All done?” he asks. When you nod, he continues. “Kinda early, huh?” he say pointendly, and you both quickly glance at the clock on the wall: his session is supposed to end in 43 minutes.

“Oh yeah, uh—actually … I was wondering if you wanted to try something?” you ask tentatively, and Minghao senses your hesitation. “If you have the time.”

Raising a brow, he nods. “Yeah I don’t mind, what is it?”

“One second,” you tell him, getting up and leaving the room to grab something from your office. Shyly, you walk back in and to your seat, all while holding up a brown bag. “Just some old crocheting supplies I thought you might like,” you murmur, placing it down on the counter.

Minghao presses his lips together tightly, not expecting your words. “Oh, uh—I haven’t really … I haven’t taken up crocheting yet. Sorry, uh—”

“Oh yeah,” you say quickly, holding a hand up, using the other to show him the contents of the bag. There’s some balls of yarn and hooks in a little mess, and you reach in to take some out. “I figured—it’s pretty intimidating to take up by yourself but,” you sigh. “I think it’ll be really nice for you. I recommend it to a lot of my patients who can’t do their regular activities and hobbies … and now given your brace is off, your vision will have more range and it might be really fun for you. No pressure if you don’t like it, but I thought it wouldn’t hurt to show you the ropes,” you admit, holding up a ball of blue yarn.

Catching onto your pun, Minghao chuckles and replies, “Sure, why not.”

“Okay great,” you say excitedly, dropping the bag and pulling your chair up in front of him and next to the table, pulling the supplies out.

Minghao is patient as you show off the different yarns and hooks, explaining the very basics in great detail. You can’t quite tell if he’s being so obedient out of genuine interest, pity, or simply polite compliance, but for whatever reason, you’re thankful. Soon, you’re showing him how you do it yourself before handing him one of your spare hooks and the ball of yarn, letting Minghao test the waters for himself.

“Yeah, just do that and—wait,” you mutter, reaching over to adjust the way he’s holding the hook. Your soft fingers gingerly brush over his knuckles, and Minghao finds himself getting lost for a moment. As you innocently fix the position of his fingers, his stomach churns in a manner he can’t quite name. “You got that?” you ask him suddenly, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Sorry, zoned out again. What was that?”

“Singapore really got you thinking, huh?” you muse before shaking your head and laughing it off.

“Sorry, I—”

“Don’t worry about it. Here, I was just saying you should position your thumb like this or else you might start to cramp up really fast. Happens to me like crazy but I didn’t fix my habit and now I just gotta crochet through the pain.”

Minghao looks at you with an odd expression. “Crochet … through … the pain?”

“That sounded cooler in my head, my bad.”

Minghao laughs. It’s not a tight chuckle, or a soft giggle, it’s a laugh. And it’s bright and full and tugging at your heartstrings in a way you’d rather ignore. “It’s okay.”

“Anyways … here, I’ll show you how to start off with a slip knot and then we’ll take things from there,” you instruct.

Slowly, you walk him through the steps. You learn that Minghao is a good learner. He’s intuitive, but it’s not that you expect much different—you figure no one can get to the level he’s at without being quick to pick up on things.

You’re soon showing him how to start a simple chain, the yarn and hook still in his hands as you work him through the process. “Yeah, now you just gotta yarn over like this—no, the other way, just like that … and—yeah … yeah!” you exclaim excitedly when Minghao slips the hook right through, lengthening the chain. “You got it!”

“Really?” Minghao asks. “Simpler than I thought,” he admits aloud, and you nod vigorously.

“Yeah … crocheting looks hard from afar but once you actually get the hang of it, it’s as easy as breathing,” you explain, softly taking the yarn and hook from his hands and showing how it looks once you build in more loops.

He watches you carefully—the way your fingers so gently, with such precision; how your eyebrows furrow ever so slightly as you focus in on the task at hand, tongue unconsciously sticking out from the corner of your mouth, and—

“You’re really good at this,” Minghao murmurs quietly, and you swear he’s so close, his warm breath fans down on your cheeks. You gulp, pausing what you’re doing to look up at him.

“My mother taught me. It’s been a casual hobby ever since.”

You feel Minghao’s eyes bore down on yours intensely, wondering if he’ll respond. Something is screaming at you to pray he’ll keep his mouth shut.

Minghao doesn’t say a word, thankfully. Still, the possibilities of what could be running through his mind haunt you.

You think you should start feeling guilty. You think you should already be feeling guilty when you start to look forward to seeing Minghao. He’s your patient for fuck’s sake—you should be happy he’s not holed up in here everyday.

Still, there’s a weird feeling that festers in your chest when you think about him.

Minghao, and the way he’s so persistent, so patient, so attentive with all the exercises and information you tell him. Minghao, and the polite smile he throws your way at the beginning of each session. Minghao, and the way his eyes light up.

“We’re going to try some new mobility exercises today,” you tell him today with a grin, standing up from your seat. Minghao’s ears perk up as he catches the bright look on your face, and something inside of him swells with hope.

“Really?”

You smile and nod in return. “Yeah! I mean your recovery has been really great so far and I think this is a good point to move on and see if we can test out an even wider range of motion.” Minghao doesn’t really say anything in response, but the way his eyes light up when he watches you explain the exercises tells you enough.

In the hour that follows, you two walk through the exercises, trying out each one, and you’re almost three quarters through all the motions you planned today right before you show him how to angle his shoulder before a new exercise.

“How are things feeling? Anything hurting? Anywhere?” you ask anxiously as Minghao comes out of the last stretch you showed him with a pleasant look on his face.

“No, not like pain pain,” he says casually, leaning back into the chair. “Not the kinda pain from the strain, but I feel a bit of tension on my shoulder from keeping it in that position for too long.”

“Okay great,” you say, typing it down onto your digital notepad. “We’ll try and switch up that one next time so your body is completely relaxed from now on.”

“Thanks. What’s the next exercise?” Minghao asks curiously upon taking in the information. You vaguely think to yourself about how you enjoy his growing warmness—he’s been a lot more positive these past sessions with his rapid progress, and it’s bringing a much lighter atmosphere to Room C.

You explain the movement to him, explaining to him how to lift his shoulders just enough to circle them backwards without too much movement. It’s going pretty smoothly like the other exercises; you explain, Minghao listens, you adjust, Minghao lets you.

Right now you’re about to lean in, hands brushing over his shoulder blade to guide them to a more steep angle, explaining to Minghao how to fix his posture. Your fingers brush over his collarbone and jaw a few times in the process, your eyes keeping steady on making sure he doesn’t make any abrasive movements.

“There we go,” you tell him after showing him how to do the circular movement with his shoulders. “Why don’t you try it by yourself?”

Shooting you a thumbs up, Minghao complies, lifting his shoulder forward first slowly. He’s going through the motions of everything pretty normally—after all this is just like any other exercise so he doesn’t really worry that much until—fuck.

Holy shit, that quick but sharp pain stings so bad.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you ask worriedly when Minghao stills, his eyes widening.

So much. So fucking much, Minghao thinks to himself.

“Talk to me,” you say, moving closer to him so you can move your hands over his shoulder and lead them back down to a natural position.

“It h-hurt for a second. Really bad, but then it was gone,” Minghao says breathily. You purse your lips together and Minghao feels his heart sink to his chest when you turn around and type some stuff he can’t read from where he sits. “Is this like—” He needs to pause to collect himself so the nerves don’t get to him. “—is it bad?” When you hesitate to respond, Minghao already knows his answer. “Fuck.”

“Look, it’s just hurting in that spot for this exercise. The rest of your progress is amazing, but we’re just going to need to take it slower since you’ve probably just overexerted the muscle a little bit.”

“So I’ve been set back, basically,” Minghao says bluntly, his tone doing a full 180 from just a few moments earlier.

“Not a setback …” you sigh. “Just a sign that we need to go slower right now.” You watch him worriedly when he presses his lips together and doesn’t meet your gaze.

“So a setback.”

You gulp. “You can’t think of this like that. I told you from the start that progress is never linear and—”

“I don’t give a fuck, okay?” Minghao breaths out, and something about the way he says it with such a curt, tense tone almost makes you lose your composure. “This is—fuck, this my career okay? I can’t afford any setbacks.”

“I know that and that’s why I’m your doctor, okay?” you say, a bit more harshly than you intended.

You don’t understand why you’re letting his hostility get to your head all of sudden—it isn’t like you haven’t had frustrated patients before. Fuck, you’ve had people cry, sob, break down in this same room over slow progress but something about the way he looks so disheartened has your heart clenching.

“I’m here to help you,” you reiterate, your tone more composed than before. “But I can only do that if you let me.”

Minghao eyes flicker between your wide eyes and his hands in his lap. There’s a growing knot that ties in his throat, and he’s too afraid to open his mouth to speak, too afraid of what he might say. Instead, he just huffs and stands up.

“Sorry,” he finally musters up, eyes trained on the ground as you watch him carefully for his next move. “I’m leaving.”

You don’t stop him as he walks away.

When Minghao walks into the reception a few days later, he’s not surprised to see that you aren’t the one greeting him. He thinks back to the way your lips were pressed into a tight line when he walked out last week. It was the last time he’d seen you in the past few days, and some weird mix of worry swirls in his stomach.

Were you avoiding him? He wouldn’t blame you if you were, but he feels guilty for thinking that way. You wouldn’t let something personal get in the way of your work, Minghao knows that for sure.

Still, he bites his tongue when he briefly considers asking Jeonghan where you are. Would that be overstepping? It’s not like there haven’t been sessions where you weren’t there, but something about the thickness in the air around him tells Minghao that there’s something he should be worried about.

As if he could read Minghao’s mind, Jeonghan speaks up. “Doc’ll come in around the end. It’s her mom’s birthday so she’s out for most of the afternoon, but she’ll be back for the last half an hour,” he says casually, not really expecting to turn around to see Minghao looking at him with wide eyes and parted lips.

“H-her—” Her mom? Minghao wants to ask but something stops him from saying it. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re not here. Something feels wrong. “That’s fine,” he mutters, pursing his lips before looking at the ground.

He can feel Jeonghan’s curious gaze burning into the back of his skull, but Minghao only doesn’t move as he keeps quiet. They soon fall into the regular pattern of starting off with mobility exercises before doing a check of his range of movement.

It’s nearing the final hour of his session when Jeonghan excuses himself for a moment. Only two minutes passes before there’s a knock at the door, and then some footsteps leading in.

“Good afternoon Minghao,” you greet softly upon walking in. The man glances up at you, eyes widening when he takes in your figure.

“Oh—uh, hey.”

Minghao wants to bash his head into the wall. Hey? Seriously? That’s all he could muster up? Hey?

“Jeonghan gave me the rundown,” you tell him, looking away as you lift a clipboard and squint to read the tiny text. “No more sharp pains … returning mobilily …”

You hum slowly as you read off the notes your assistant left for you, not meeting Minghao’s gaze. He wonders if that’s what you intended. “Seeing as things are going smoothly for now, we’ll continue with the low-risk exercises and—”

“I’m sorry,” Minghao blurts out. He wonders what compels him to do it, but when you finally meet his gaze, he realizes that he just wanted you to look at him.

“Mi—”

“I’m sorry for how I acted last time. I shouldn’t have said that stuff to you. I was frustrated and took it out on you, and that wasn’t okay. I’m sorry.”

Your lips are pursed by the time Minghao is finished. He’s said enough, but when he peers up at you, his eyes speak a story of their own.

“It’s okay,” you respond with no hesitation, before turning back to your clipboard, scanning over it a few more times and then setting it down.

You smooth your hands over your lab coat, and for a moment Minghao wonders what it would feel like to have your palms run down his neck, pressing into his skin so gently yet with such fervor, fingertips ghosting over—

Minghao shouldn’t think like this.

“Jeonghan told me that it’s your mom’s birthday,” he finally breaks the silence. It’s the first time either of you have actually brought it up, and the reality of it all—fuck, it’s hitting you so hard that there’s already tears pooling in yout lashline.

You silently curse yourself for forgetting to tell Jeonghan not to tell Minghao anything. It’s okay, it isn’t like he knew any better, you tell yourself as you blink rapidly, trying to shoo away the tears.

“Mhm,” you hum, hoping he doesn’t probe any deeper. You aren’t sure what you should say.

You’re silent, and Minghao itches to reach forward, to rest his hand on your shoulder, to smile at you, to say all the things he’s been thinking about you but he just can’t. All he can manage is to clear his throat, causing you to look up at him expectantly.

Fuck, what should he say? “I’m um—I’m glad. Glad that she’s uh—that everything worked out.” That’s fine, right? There’s nothing wrong with that statement, Minghao’s almost sure of it so … so why in the world are you crying?

Shoot, did he fuck up? You’re sitting in the chair right next to him, head in your hands as you cover your face and turn away; your cries are soft but just loud enough for Minghao to hear over the rush in his ears, just loud enough for him to feel the ache, just loud enough for him to get the message.

Oh.

The first time you meet Xu Minghao, you’re in middle school. Seventh grade and walking into Algebra, going to sit down on your regular seat. Five minutes into class and a new boy walks into the room, handing your teacher a slip before being directed to sit down at a spot a few tables over.

He’s got short, dark hair, cat-like eyes, and a bit of tall, lanky figure as he slinks down into the chair. Your teacher claps her hands together and announces that there’s a new student in class. His name’s “Xu Minghao,” she said.

You don’t really remember his name at first. It isn’t uncommon for there to be new students on campus. He’s not in many of your other classes you realize as the day goes on, and so he slips your mind. Maybe you work with him for a few assignments throughout the year, but not enough for you to wave at each other when you pass the other in the hallways.

Five years later and you’re in your final year of high school. Time has passed, you have changed, Xu Minghao has changed, but what remains the same is what you are to each other. Strangers.

You’re paired with a stranger for your final senior Literature project.

“Do you want to write a paper, or do the poster?” you ask as he sits down next to you once the pairing assignments. Your teacher had given you two options on how to go about the project. “I don’t really mind either or,” you admit.

Minghao hums, setting his copy of Macbeth on the table before turning to you. “Poster? I think I’ve done enough writing in this past year to last me a lifetime,” he tells you with an obvious sigh.

“Yeah,” you laugh. “Were you in Biology?”

He nods. “Regretfully.”

“Oh so you also had to write that whole research paper. Damn, that thing had to have shaved at least ten years off my life.”

“Ditto,” Minghao grumbles, running his hands over his face. “Oh god, just thinking about it is making me queasy. I’m so happy we’re in our final semester.”

“So we agree on no paper, just the poster?” you finalize.

Minghao agrees, “Yeah, that’s great.”

One week later and Minghao is at your doorstep. “Cool set up,” he notes, stepping into your room, looking down at the poster splayed out with markers all over.

You grin. “Thanks—I kind of like being artsy and stuff sometimes so I was pretty happy to do this when you said you also wanted to do the poster.”

“Seems like I made a good choice then,” he replies, sitting down on the opposite end of the poster and pulling out a notebook and his book. “I did some work and got a bunch of lines that we could use as citations in different parts.”

“That’s great,” you say, picking a pen. “Let’s get started then?”

You two get straight to work, and all goes smoothly. Minghao is a good worker, you’ve noticed. His friends are quite fun—you’ve seen him with them in the hallways sometimes—but you start to realize that Minghao doesn’t let himself sacrifice his work ethic for fun.

You make quite some progress over the next hour or two, and you’re just about to bring up one of your ideas. “So over here, I was thinking we could write out the context of the play and then—” You’re cut off by the voice of your older brother at your door. He’s looking down at his phone with his lips pressed into a tight line as he speaks.

“Mom’s starting another cycle of chemo this Thursday so—oh, sorry,” Beomgyu says quickly upon looking up and seeing you have a visitor. “Come to my room when you’re done,” he mutters before turning on his heel.

The silence that envelopes your room is deafening.

You don’t say a word as you take a deep breath and pick up a different colored marker. You clear your throat. “So back to what I was saying …”

The next time you work on the poster, it’s at Minghao’s house.

You wear a blue gown at graduation. It’s a sunny day in June, and you’re sweating a little through the silk fabric, but it’s okay.

Your father and Beomgyu are there in the stands, but your eyes can’t help but be pulled to the empty seat next to them. Your mother said she’d try to make it, but broke the news last night that it was a dream too high up to reach.

It’s okay, you had told her, but as you clutch your diploma close to your heart, all you can think is, no it’s not, no it’s not, no it’s fucking not.

You sit through the rest of the ceremony with a silence and all around you, you see your peers’ smiling faces, the encouraging words of the dean, the cheers of the crowds, and somehow you feel so lost in it all. When you’re finally dismissed, everyone claps and revels once more, but somehow you can’t find the voice in your throat to join them.

Slipping through the crowds of people who line up to take pictures with their friends, family, and all the sort, you slip out of the small stadium and into some hallway.

“Fuck!” you finally cry out, raising your hand up and whipping it forward towards the brick wall. You wince, bracing yourself for the pain, but the sting never comes. Something warm envelopes your wrist, and when you finally blink your eyes open, you see a stranger.

“I don’t understand what you’re going through,” Minghao finally says. “I won’t pretend I do either, but it’ll be okay.” He hugs you and your face is pressed into Minghao’s own blue gown that is about to turn a few shades darker.

You cry. You cry harder than you think you’ve ever cried before.

You don’t know what it is about the way he speaks. Maybe it’s the way he holds you. Maybe it’s the way he smells. Maybe it’s everything, but whatever it is or isn’t, you don’t stop crying and for a gracing moment, you bask in catharsis.

And then, you hear Beomgyu’s voice calling for you from a nearby hallway, so you pull back. Minghao presses his lips together and lets you go, hands dropping to the side as you wipe away the tears. There’s a darker blue splotch in the middle of his chest, but he says nothing of it.

You don’t say a word as you step back—the only communication you share is a nod, but you swear on every last star in the sky that he has said more words to you in that moment than anyone has told you in your entire lifetime.

You don’t see Minghao’s face until it’s seven years later and he’s plastered on the screen as SECTOR’s newest recruit. He’s got phenomenal potential as an F1 racer—greatest new talent in a while—you hear the host of the channel say, but as you look at his picture on the screen, all you see is the face of a stranger who’s held you tighter than anyone before.

The last time you saw Minghao, it was through tear-blurred vision as you scurried out of Room C—you had to tell Jeonghan through broken sniffles to wrap up the session with Minghao—that the weight of the day had gotten to your head and that you needed to take a breather.

It wasn’t entirely a lie. You retreated to your office soon after, staring at the photo of you and your mother that sat at the corner of your table, and then you cried a little more.

It’s the next day when you’re back in the office. Two patients had just finished up, and you’re sitting in your office, filing through some emails when you hear the familiar ringing of the front door opening. You furrow your eyebrows to yourself, not recalling having any other patients scheduled for at least another two hours.

Had Jeonghan and Seungkwan taken their break earlier than you thought? No, that can’t be possible because they always let you know when they’re heading out and—

“Doc!” you hear Seungkwan’s voice call out to you from down the hall. “Could you come here for a sec’?”

Frowning, you close your laptop and stand up, walking out the doorway and down the hallway towards the front entrance of the clinic. “What is i—oh.” The question dies on your tongue when you see Minghao standing in the reception.

Something in your stomach churns at the sight of him—eyes slightly blown out, lips parted but somehow curved downward in a way that has your own lips frowning. The events of the past few days crashes down on you, and you bite down on your bottom lips in hopes that it’ll ground you in reality.

Seungkwan stands behind the main desk, looking at you with some sort of awry expression, and you catch Jeonghan coming down from the other hallway to catch the odd situation. Minghao doesn’t seem to mind though, eyes zoning in on you.

“I need to talk to you,” he says. You feel Seungkwan and Jeonghan’s gazes burn into the back of your skull.

Glancing at them, you point to the door. “You guys can take your lunch break now,” you tell them before turning your attention to Minghao. “Let’s go to Room C?”

He follows you in an instant, slipping into the seat that he always does as you close the door behind you and walking up to stand in front of him.

You can hear the words already coming together on his tongue—I’m sorry—and so you open your mouth before Minghao can even say it.

“I’m sorry,” you say, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have stormed out like that.”

“No, I—I shouldn’t have said anything. I had no idea you—” Minghao stops himself. He doesn’t know how much is too much.

It’s funny; Minghao’s whole career is about being in the driver’s seat but somehow when it comes to you, he doesn’t know when to press on the gas or hit the brake.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he says. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since graduation.”

“Me too,” you respond in an instant. “I see so much of myself in you,” you tell him.

“Stop, I—our situations aren’t comparable and—”

“Let me be the judge of that, yeah?” you cut him off with a small smile and through tears, cupping his face. The skin over his cheek bones are soft when you run your thumbs over them. “When everything is going wrong and you’re so angry, and you’re blaming all the wrong people but you can’t help it, and it makes you feel worse and there isn’t a thing you can do about it.”

“Yeah.”

You inhale steadily, feeling hot water meet your hands and trickle down to your wrists. Minghao is crying, and suddenly you are hit with waves of deja vu. “I get it, okay?” you tell him, even though you know that Minghao already knows. You get it better than anyone. “It’ll be okay.”

The echo of his words from all those years ago crashes down on you, and suddenly Minghao pulls your arms down causing you to hunch over so your face is right in front of his.

“I’ve thought about you everyday since then.” The words come out of your mouth in a soft whisper. “Even when she passed away a few months later.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he mutters, eyes closing and head titling forward so that your foreheads press against each other. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you tell him, stroking his cheek. “You don’t have to be sorry—you were right. Everything’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

“I—I’m sorry, I just—”

Something about the way Minghao says the word sorry not from his throat, but from his stomach, has your mind twisting in ways that you can’t comprehend. The sound is so guttural and heart-wrenching, and this time you want to cry because he’s got nothing to be sorry for. Not a thing.

And so you kiss him.

You kiss Minghao because he is no longer a stranger. Because he is crying for you and you might as well cry for him. Cry for him, but you have done enough crying to last you a lifetime and so you kiss him instead, because they speak the same words: I love you.

And his lips are soft, his tongue warm, his hand ghosting over your arm is gentle, and you can hear it. You hear it in the way he moves against you—he understands and you want to cry again because he’s always understood, and so you don’t cry but only kiss him deeper.

“I made you something,” he admits. “It’s in the car.”

You’re thankful you sent your two coworkers out when you did, sparring all four of you the awkwardness when you and Minghao slip out of Room C and out the clinic towards the parking lot and to his car.

He pulls a blanket out from the passenger seat. It’s hardly big enough to cover your lower half but it’s bright and blue and warm, and somehow you feel your eyes well up with tears that you can’t seem to stop this time.

“Did you—did you make this?” you choke out as Minghao stands in front of you, handing the cloth over as you run your palms over the loose threads and yarn that poke through.

“Crocheted it myself,” he tells you, standing from a couple inches above, as you marvel over his work. Minghao thinks he’s done a poor job—you could probably do better—but you clutch the blanket with such vigor that he doesn’t have the heart to tell you. “You’ve helped me so much,” he says instead.

“Fuck,” you mutter over harsh breaths. “Y-you made this.”

“You taught me,” he corrects, and that’s when the dam breaks.

And this time Minghao hugs you, and you can tell he’s being careful about his neck and in all your frenzy you almost want to push him away and say, “Don’t move so much!” but then his arms fold in on you like a blanket of their own and you crumble.

You crumble into happiness because through everything you’ve ever been through, Minghao still holds you tighter than one holds onto life itself.

“I don’t think I can come here on Sunday next week,” you tell your boyfriend as you peer down at your phone. You’re leaning over his kitchen counter going between looking at some emails and glancing at the screen.

Minghao groans, and you bite back a smile. “Are you serious? Why?”

“Yes I’m serious,” you huff, rolling your eyes playfully. “My brother’s visiting town for a bit.”

“And I can’t meet him, why?” Minghao asks with a raised brow.

You laugh. “Good point. I haven’t told him I’m dating yet though. Might be too big of a ball drop if I tell him I have a boyfriend right away. A boyfriend who’s SECTOR’s best racer, might I add,” you say, pouring yourself a glass of water from the fridge before joining Minghao on the couch.

“It would be a good surprise though, right?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Yeah yeah, whatever floats your boat,” you shoot sarcastically. “But seriously. I’ll see if I can get you two to meet, but I really can’t see you on Sunday. I have to pick Beomgyu up from the airport.”

“Got it,” Minghao agrees, shuffling closer to you as you both focus on the TV. A live interview with Kim Mingyu plays on the screen, the young man talking about his recent rise in recognition. You two sit in silence for a couple of minutes before Minghao speaks up.

“I fucking hate not being able to do anything,” he groans, shifting onto your shoulder slightly. His condition’s gotten exponentially better in past couple of weeks, but you instructed for him to wait at least two more weeks before fully getting back to training.

He’s been restless ever since, you’ve started to notice. “Do I really need to wait?” he mutters, lips close to your ear as you cuddle into his embrace.

You pull back slightly, narrowing your eyes at him. “Yes! I told you—it’s a part of the process.”

“Fuck the process, I wanna drive again!”

“Too bad I guess,” you say with a shrug, turning your attention to the TV. The channel moves on from the interview to talk about some updates, and eventually somewhere in the mix, Minghao’s name comes up, and you hear the man next to you curse under his breath.

Chewing on your tongue, you debate for a few moments on what to do before reaching for the remote to shut the TV off.

“Hey! I was watching th—”

“Do you ever stop complaining?” you huff, stepping out of his embrace much to Minghao’s dismay. “Stop moving,” you order him, sliding down onto your knees in front of his legs.

“What are you do—oh.” You hear the words dry on his tongue when you nudge your body between his thighs, inching closer to his groin.

“You’re so restless,” you hum, trailing your fingers from his knees, over his thighs, and finally let the ghost over the growing tent under his sweatpants. “Let me take care of you, yeah?” you suggest, toying with the elastic waistband of his pants and boxers.

“O-okay,” Minghao agrees, and you grin at the way you see his cheeks flush pink when you inch the fabric off of his pants. His cock springs out, hardening under your gaze as it slaps against his lower adobe that’s still covered by his shirt.

You think for a moment to help Minghao out of his shirt too, but with the pretty pearl of precum dribbling off his slit, veins pressing up all against the length of his cock—all of him aching just for you—you start to feel your mouth water, forgetting about anything that isn’t having Minghao’s cock in your mouth.

“Careful with the right arm, ‘kay?” you tell him, a sly smirk tugging at your lips when you bring them down, dragging them over the base of his length all the way up to the glossy tip where you place a wet kiss.

“Y-yeah—fuck baby,” Minghao grunts when you envelope your lips around his throbbing tip, tongue swirling over the slit at the top as you do so. His left arm makes its way into your hair, fingers digging into your scalp when you pull back to take a deep breath.

Saliva drips down the corner of your lips, and as you look up at Minghao with wide, glossy eyes, he thinks he might bust in on the spot. “Go on baby,” he murmurs, using his firm grip on your head to nudge your lips closer to his pink tip. “Put it in …” he instructs, and when you grin and open your lips wide once more, Minghao knows he’s too far gone to be saved.

“You’re so hard Hao,” you whisper against him, tongue tracing constellations over the base of his cock when you reach to cup his balls, massaging them under your palms.

“Fuck, just like that baby,” Minghao moans, and the sound is so guttural it has your own pussy clenching around nothing. Your skin burns when you take him into your mouth again, cock sliding further down your mouth than before.

He’s so thick, and you feel every last curve of his cock, every last vein, against your cheeks, pressing against your tongue—Minghao is all you can taste, and you might go drunk on the sensation alone.

And he isn’t faring quite well above you either—his hand in your hair has got a firm hold but if anything, Minghao is losing touch with reality. Your mouth is so soft and so warm, your tongue so meticulous with the way it’s swirling around his tip when you slip off his cock before pushing your mouth back down on him—he’s going fucking crazy.

“Baby—oh baby,” the words rumble at the base of his chest, egging you on. With every bob of your head, you start to take him down further until his fat tip is battering against the back of your throat and yeah, it’s got tears pricking at the corners of your eyes but he’s moaning and grunting and squirming all for you and you just can’t seem to fucking stop.

“Shit, shit, shit—baby, ‘m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” he warns when you deep throat all of him, your nose nearly pressing against his pelvis as you press your eyes tight and revel in the sound of his moans, the feeling of his hands in your hair.

You take his slice of warning as a token of advice, pulling back for only a breath before attempting to do the same thing again, shoving his cock into your mouth and down your throat, rubbing whatever you can’t with your palms as wetness smears all over your lips and cheeks.

“Oh—fuck, I’m—”

When Minghao cums, it’s with his chest singing your name. Breathy moans—calls for you—as you suck him through the high, hot white painting the inside of your cheeks and tongue. You pant heavily when you finally pull yourself off of him, swallowing all that is left of him in your mouth, and then he looks at you with flushed cheeks and you both grin.

And when you climb up, Minghao hugs you. He hugs you like a blanket—like the blanket he made you, the blanket you taught him to make—and you two bask in this moment because Minghao is no longer stranger, but he is here and he is in your arms and you are in is, and there isn’t any other place you’d rather be.

a/n: mika ramble time! whatever demonic sickness has been haunting me for the past 5 days will NOT get the best of me. i have been aching to get this fic out since like september and it was initially supposed to be posted on hubbie's bday but :/ unfortunately i was a bit late bc life gets in the way ;c overall i'm really happy w it! personally, i think this is among the most emotional fics i've written, and i am extremely proud of myself for some parts of this so !! yea !! if u enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it, pls feel free to leave comments / reblogs >_< they mean the world to me ^^

#seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #svt angst #minghao smut #minghao x reader #xu minghao x reader #xu minghao smut #xu minghao fanfic #xu minghao angst #minghao angst #the8 x reader #the8 angst #📝 writing #flight of the stars

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unabashednightmarepizza · 5 months

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This is so sudden brainrot but imagine... That You, the Creator, are married with one of the Archons.

But the people never really saw You.

Warnings: Too much cheesiness in Venti's and Zhongli's part, only sadness in Ei's part, flangst in Furina's part, "Being human" problems in Furina's and Ei's part, Ei and Scara's "toxic" bond, slight mentions of abondenment, the reader being referred as "wife"

In Mondstadt, much like other nations, people had never seen their Creator. There were many monuments and statues all around their city, and they knew for a fact that there were even more in other ones, and people worshipped your name alongside their Lord Barbatos with pride, gratefulness and love.

The tale of your adventures together, the many battles you both fought side by side and brought their ancestors to victory, the way you both saved Mondstadt from the vengeful God Decarabian and later the corrupt society... But above all, the strong and unbreakable love you held for each other for centuries were told all around the city's lively streets.

Many stories, paintings, books were written in both of your names; told as both a warning and a heartwarming message.

Once, and even occasionally now, they were heard through their murmurs of praise and the Wind you and your beloved controlled.

Alongside that bard's tunes and melodic lyre where he declared his "unyielding and ever-strong love" for the Creator.

Blasphemous, really.

But the people just left him be. After all, if he trully angered You and Lord Barbatos, the bard wouldn't even be standing alive and rather striken down by bolts of thunder rather than being drunk all the time and sing songs about his devoted love for You as he was ready to give his all.

Diluc was trully going to strike him with his own claymore even if his beloved Creator didn't, and he would have the support of the whole city for doing so as the bard only giggled and played with the ring on his finger, one that was adorned with many jewels unknown to humans...

Which made people question Venti whether he robbed someone rich or he had someone rich buying all that stuff.

Basically a sugarmommy or something. One that needs to be either a God or, as absurt as it was, the Creator Themselves since he was living somehow a luxurious life with all those exclamations and all his debt to Master Diluc was suddenly payed.

Because come on,who would... Exclaim such vulgar and intimate things about Their Majesty, when They already have a husband?

The husband who very much so adores and worships the ground his spouse walks on, who is also very horny for Them and regularly makes love with Them which ends with two slightly exhausted but very pleased Gods wearing giddy smiles as giggles leave them, their hands still touching and proding against the other's body... There was a reason A Thousand Winds were important for the nation of freedom-

But, two things were enough for them to reconsider their decisions one day and send them into a heart attack that surely would put them in their grave early.

One: The fact that the Creator, not that they knew at that time, was drinking coffee happily while eating Mondstadt Hash Brown and Nothern Smoked Chicken in the Good Hunter while conversing with people normally as if they enjoyed hearing Diona complain about their alcohol and how bad it was for the health, all the while bouncing a very happy and excited Klee on Their knees as she rambled about her Dodoco.

And Two: Venti running up to that person, you, with a wide grin and kissing you while exclaiming a happy "Windblume, you are here! I missed you so much!"

Now, it wouldn't have been a big problem and shock. You see, it was two lovers happily hugging and greeting each other, exchanging loving kisses and stares as even the hearts of people around them were shook by how intense and strong it was. The elders were cooing at the cute scene, the shorter and petite looking bard hugging a tall and strong-looking person, a show of their contrast yet harmony as the person lovingly patted his head and kissed his soft cheeks like usual...

Had they not known Venti was their Archon Lord Barbatos who was married with... The Creator, like he exclaimed so in many of his drunkard monologues, and suddenly his pretty ring and life made sense as Jean fainted from witnessing the Holy love of her Gods and the truth behind Venti's real marriage to You, Lisa's eyes widened as a blush overtook her face and...

Well, chaos ensured.

"Windblume! You are here!" Venti exclaimed happily with reddened cheeks, both from his excitement and drunk self. You could only sigh softly at the fact that he once again drunk himself away, a tad bit disappointed at hım failing his promise once again even though he made great progress, yet you still caressed his face with lithe fingers as softly as possible with a frown.

And did Venti hate that sight with a burning passion.

All that mattered was you, for him. The You who still loved him despite his mistakes in the past and the hollow feeling that followed hım everywhere. The You who always reassured him that he deserves the happiness he now lives...

And He couldn't be more grateful to have it with you, for you to accept his love all those years ago, way before even humans were created.

And to his happiness, you finally came back after he spent painful years alone since another world needed your assistanfe. Sure he was "sleeping" while he was actually taking care of your daughter, playing with her all day to make up for the lost time and teaching her about the wind but you didn't have to know that!

You sure as hell did, and was getting ready to scold the shit out of him later for allowing and teaching your precious child foul words to insult people Barbatos didn't like.

"Yes, my beloved husband... Unforfunately, one of the universes needed my assistence immediately and another once-water-dragon needed some teaching. Poor boy, judged because he is the reincarnation of the previous Imbibitor Lunae..."

Venti only hummed thoughtfuly as he sat down next to you, twirling a Cecilia between his fingers with a soft smile since the once depressing sight of the flower was now of a happy and joyful sight that reminded him of hope, love and... Babypowder.

But there was also the fact that you had way too many adopted children. He liked your soft heart for children, he really did and he was also the same as you as he too "adopted" kids...

But was it not getting out of hand?

"Another one we're adopting? Don't you think-" he sweated nervously with a tilt of his head, pouting in thought at yet another sad child in his home though he didn't really hate the idea, not at all.

But the havoc caused by all the ruckus caused by them and his precious flower who loved those big brothers and sisters she had was giving him white hairs since he couldn't do something that would erase her cute smile, like getting angry at her and them for having fun and being free. What kind of father and God would he be then?

You saw the reluctance in his eyes as clear as the day, and you understood why he felt that way. At first, you also were reluctant to do what you have been doing for years now but one look at their sad and lifeless eyes that held no childlike wonder...

And you were suddenly hugging them all to your chest, swooping them up and giving them the best life possible.

Besides, you also learnt how to get under Barbatos' skin too!

You pouted at him cutely, getting closer to him and nuzzling your face to his neck teasingly as you landed a soft kiss to the juncture of his neck, softly nimbling on the tender skin as he groaned out and lightly threw his head back.

"You are making me crazy, Windblume..."

"Hmm, but you like it~ Besides, I know you like me happy and this kid also commands Wind-"

"Consider it done,Windblume! I wonder how Cecilia would react though."

Gotcha.

Just as quickly, he fell apart and his fake reluctance was replaced with fatherly affection at having yet another wind user at home to teach new skills as his hand thightened over yours and he stared at you after you lifted yourself from your place on his neck.

You smugly smirked with a hint of affection for his soft side as you kissed his lips softly, leaving him in a daze as he looked at you with a lopsided and lovesick smile.

That was why you loved him so much...

You laughed to yourself happily at how easy it was for him to accept anything and nothing that came from you, especially when it included mistreated children's care who was blessed by the wind.

Besides, he had a really hard time saying no to both you and those he considered as his children who had his vision... His own child wasn't an option because he never said no to her much to your dismay.

"Hmm? She is a lovely and friendly girl, she even befriended Neuvillette and adores when Zhongli tells her stories of the ancient times! I'm sure everything would be fine!"

Venti groaned at what you said, because though Zhongli and him were not on so good terms... It seemed his own daughter stabbed him from the back by liking her uncle Li's stories as much as her dad's and his own wife took great satisfication from making fun of him for it while drinking Osmanthus Wine as if the situation wasn't bad already.

Barbatos was just being dramatic in your opinion since your daughter generally loved reading and listening to other people's stories. Besides, Cecilia had a very big Dvalin plushie alongside the friends that shaped Mondstadt to its recent version, and refused to sleep without having them close to her and if that didn't say enough, her wearing the same clothes as his and even sometimes imitating her father did.

Which often ended up with a bawling Barbatos as he nuzzled to her, her doing the same to hım as they resembled a mama cat and her kitten.

"MAMA, PAPA! MAMA CAME BACK!" A shrill, excited cry came from the Gates as everyone's attention was turned for a second to the little toddler girl who suddenly zoomed to where you and Venti was, clinging onto you and nuzzling her face to yours as you laughed fondly and stared at her with eyes identical to hers that she inherited from you...

The stars that would always follow the Princess and the sign of Teyvat, on her inherited eyes shone the brightest as the people of Mondstadt met their Creator in the most affectionate way possible: Showcasing of the motherly love You held for the baby in your arms as Barbatos walked around the city you two built with the help of your now deceased friends proudly.

Proud for he was able to give Cecilia a future to hope for, a place for her to grow up without knowing the harshness of this world and how much blood was spilled for her and the future generation to grow and flourish, for them to never know tyranny and pain.

And that was also the day, the people of Mondstadt met the Priincess Cecilia of their Creator and Archon.

A lovely toddler who was loved and adored by Teyvat and all the universes.

A toddler that had the same love between her parents reflected in her eyes and smile.

And apparently, a toddler who loved apples as much as her dad, if not more, as the gremlin they were together.

"Cecilia, how many apples have you eaten today?" You raised your brows at her suspiciously innocent face, questioning her enormous pocket which you were sure held many apples for her to eat with her dad.

"Only 3, mama!" She smiled widely at you, unaware of the pocket dimension which seemed huge to the eye of a God, the one you added behind her dress because she loved picking things up and storing them as keepsakes.

"Besides the other 100 ones you have in your pocket dimension??"

A poignant silence settled between the three of you, as cricket sound was the only thing that could be heard. You stared at your daughter whose eyes widened at your question, shocked at how you knew of her secret stash, fondly and amused.

Poor baby, she still couldn't understand that you were the Creator of All and knew pretty much everything.

"...... I can explain, mama!"/ "Windblume, you can't punish her! Look at her cute face, and how adorable she is while holding the apples!"

And yes, indeed, you couldn't punish them because of how much you loved them both as Cecilia offered you two apples rather than one like she did to her dad, who only smiled and nodded as she said she loved you so so much, while you two walked out of the city to go and visit uncle Dvalin and you only shook your head in fake disappointment at he silliness of both your husband and daughter.

He agreed on that fact of Cecilia without complaints as he stared at your etheral smile. After all, Mondstadt was the epitome of his love for You.

Even if you didn't allow him to eat more apples-Besides, the artival of a New Princess would surely be rnough for hım.

With Liyue, it was way different.

Morax, or Zhongli as he now called himself, had begged you to take some days off with himself away in your lovely and cozy home on the outskirts of Liyue, away from the bustling crowd so that both him and your daughter could freely let go of their human appearance and waffle around with their dragon features.

A big contrast to the home he once had as Rex Lapis.

Now, there were two reasons for him wanting you have some rest. One, because he missed you. He missed those good old times when he would always sit with you in your balcony and watch the sun as his black and scaled hands clasped around your middle with your back resting on his chest, inhaling and exhaling softly to which he did the same.

He missed the days he got to spend with you as himself, not the human one but the true him. The dragon him, with amber horns that shone with each light hitting them. Tail so large and big yet also soft that it was a great blanket for you and Zhi.

His little girl, the one who showed the world of the love shared between the Creator and Rex Lapis, the fruit of thousands of years of love and marriage which was fated to continue to grow and get stronger.

You insisted that, at the time when you were pregnant upon your stubborness because you wished to experience it rather than just creating your child out of wisp, whatever gender the baby would be... They would be named after him.

He disagreed on that at first, to his and your shock since he never did such thing before even when his ideas and yours were completely opposite of each other.

To him, he was a monster that shed way too much blood. A God of War that killed many Gods, a God that was too harsh and even rude sometimes... Once a sinner that dared to challenge the Allmighty Creator of All.

And for all these reasons and more complicated ones, he always felt unworthy of the happiness and serenity he now has. He felt the guilt of his past actions often pricking at his mind at the deep of the night, all the screams and tears he made others let out plagued his already fragile mind as the others surrendered to the sweet embrace of sleep and he laid awake beside you, who only wished to take his pain and self-loathing away so that he could finally start living.

But for the longest time, you were unable to make him see the beauty of life and above all, himself.

However his little Zhi changed it all for him, with her fat cheeks and chubby arms and all smiles at him even when she hadn't opened her eyes to the worlds that waited with batted breaths yet.

Both Teyvat and that time's Liyue were so excited at the news of their Archon and Creator having their own child, true embodiment of love and power. Teyvat was sunny and shiny for days, and even if it rained, it was always a soft drizzle and never a hurricane.

And your people? They were so ecstatic as the city bubbled with life and happiness, with everyone preparing offerings, clothes, jewelries and toys for the uncoming heir. Rex Lapis toys, story books about you and your husband's adventure, teething toys (you didn't understand at first but now blessed the makers eternal happiness in the after life for it because boy, was it bad), you name it and the list went off.

As if all the gifts stopped there... All the Adeptus and even the level-headed Guizhong literally raced to be the baby's favourite auntie/uncle with the gifts or clothes or their plans of playing with them while you sat there next to your husband with an awkward smile, him stroking your bloated belly with a fatherly love as the baby kicked his hand happily, knowing it was the sweet hold of its dad...

All the while Alatus and Bosacius butted heads for what food and game were the best for the baby, Guizhong and Streetward Rambler sketched new toys while Menogias and Cloud Retainer already started their clothing plans to sew for later.

And the baby wasn't even born.

He still remembers the days he spent silently crying while holding one of the toys which was gifted from his people for his baby after it was declared that their nation would be blessed with a child of their Archon and Creator, holding onto the doll and imagined a daughter who played with it with a huge smile.

He knew any child of a loving marriage such as yours would be a blessing, especially since they would have your lovely features that he fell for a long time ago and still did, too. But his heart couldn't help but swell whenever he thought about having daughters who looked at him as if he hung the stars and tried to imitate you.

And no, his dragon instincts weren't playing a crucial role in his sudden need of many children and the thightness he felt in his pants whenever he saw you, his wife, walking around with a child between your arms in his and your land, with his wedding band that he crafted on your finger-

Yes, he wanted a girl to cuddle with and dote on so badly- even when most "men" only wished to have sons at an age when it was the expected behaviour and Zhongli never fit in, being "ridiculed" for his wish for an healthy child only, even if ridiculing him wasn't possible since he had a very sharp tongue when he wanted and he didn't care about fitting when he was the one who made the land, being the dad of his little girl was the greatest honorary title he ever .

And when little Zhi was born, with eyes wide with curiousity and wonder for the world around her, a smile wide enough to lighten up the whole universe as she gazed between you and her dad who was just sobbing at the innocence on her face and the cute baby fat all around her body as he held his whole life between his arms...

Morax made the biggest and most important contract of forever, after his promise to forever love and cherish you.

To always be there for his girl and protect her from any harm, so that the smile she wore the first day she was welcomed in Teyvat as it rejoiced at the arrival of the little princess, would forever remain on her face.

And the second reason was... Well...

"Let me get this straight: You wanted to retire for good and therefore faked your own death, are now a funeral consultant who happens to have met with one of my vessels from another world and all of this mess happened right before Zhi started showing her dragon side and saw her dad 'dying'?"

You deadpanned at Zhongli as he winced awkwardly from the loud cries of his precious baby daughter who clinged onto your legs, drawing slight Holy Golden Blood that belongt to you. He felt like the filthiest lower form on the surface of Teyvat as tears fell down her cheeks in huge globs, her whimpers filling the empty room as the sky roared angrily outside with its harsh wisps of storm and rain hitting the windows as if they wanted to get inside and punish him for making "the Princess of Teyvat" cry as the people outside tried to find a shelter.

And was the ground shaking or was it his imagination?

Even though her claws hurted your human skin and caused you to hiss in pain, you couldn't care less since your daughter was the most uncomfortable she had ever been, with her cheeks wet from the tears for her "father's death"...

Even with the cute little horns and claws, alongside the huge slitted amber eyes she definetly inherited from her father that you loved more than anything made her impossible to resist, you were still angry at Zhongli and neither her nor his puppy eyes would work on you.

"I understand your need for rest but we need more than a vacation now, Morax! We need therapy! She thinks you're gone and-" you frailed your arms around angrily while pointing between her and him, when you were interrupted by your daughter's soft voice and hiccups.

"Māma? Bàba is gone? He won't c-come?" Zhi whimpered as she clutched the plushie of the dragon form of her dad thightly to her chest, the item being her only comfort at the moment as your heart broke for the tears falling down her amber eyes as stars dimmed inside of them.

Heh, at least she has that feature from me even though she is a replica of her dad...

"No, love... Bàba isn't gone, he is just being silly." You gritted your teeth slightly to Zhongli as you led Zhi away while looking over your shoulder at him threateningly.

A glare that sent chills down his spine, as Zhongli knew the hidden meaning behind it even after thousands of years being together

You better find a way to fix this or else...

And you know what they say: Happy wife, happy life.

And in Zhongli's case: Happy wife, happy child and happy universes...

With Fontaine, it was after Focalors' plans were revealed to the people and Fontaine was saved with Your and Focalors' combined powers and help. The people lived, the children and friends you had made were safe and all of them were alive as they hugged the closest person to them happily, praising your and Focalors name as they prayed and thanked you both...

At the cost of your lover's life.

You humorlessly chuckle as rain falls down your face and mixes with your tears, head hung low on the last stage you two could ever have as the heaviness of the situation slowly dawned on you.

It seems loosing who I love the most is a frequent occurance.

Now, one might question why the All-Creator wasn't just simply bringing her lover back to life or just not will her death to stop. As the Creator, you were supposed to be that powerful and nothing should disobey you... Well, they were all true facts about your being but you couldn't just do it because you promised her.

After everything was over, and the time you dreaded which was the end of this masqurade had finally come... She said she was just too exhausted to continue as an Archon beside you and asked if it was allright to rest.

Maybe as any other person would do, but not as an Archon... She couldn't keep going anymore.

Besides, Fontaine no longer needed an Archon. They were strong on their own as well, and she knew that if Celestia dared to go against your command once more... You would protect them and the rest of the Teyvat fiercely.

"I wish to rest, my dear... If you will be allright without me and there wouldn't be a problem?" She asked softly with her much smaller hands gently caressing your saddened face, wiping the few stray tears that fell down on your cheeks. Your heart hurt way too much, at how easy it was for her to recognize your tears from the heavy rain that poured down, at how soon enough... You would loose the person that knew you the best, always stood next to you at harsh times and put a smile on your face with her antics.

Teyvat cried alongside you for the pain their Creator felt as the guillotine that would take her away from you floated above you.

It was ready to destroy itself if you commanded, that magicial execution weapon didn't like the idea of killing its Archon and the beloved of the Creator, even though you weren't at your full power...Any being, alive or not, bent the knee to you after all but, if there was something stronger than the Will of the Creator...

It was the wish of Her lover, whom She was ready to do anything for and who wished to depart with an excellent last show.

After all, how could you resist her when she asks you so sweetly with her loving and different-colored eyes?

"Then, as your lover... I shall make your wish come true. You may rest, my love, until your soul is ready to come back to the world I created with so much love." You tearfully exclaimed, hands coming up to take a hold of hers as your lips locked with her own and then landed on her forehead tenderly for the last time. As the fact that this was the last time you would stare at her eyes, witness her dramatic plays, see your reflection in her eyes filled with love for you finally dawned on...

You silently broke.

You had this much of previlege, right? Who said the Creator couldn't grieve? Maybe you couldn't outwardly show weakness to your people, but at least you had Teyvat reflecting your true emotions...

But just as you were suffering, there was another one who had been suffering for 500 years in silence. From having to pretend as someone she wasn't, putting on the mask of the strong Archon who did her best to entertain her people so that they weren't worried about the prophecy...

But above all, from pretending not to be in love with the one person she wasn't supposed to fall for.

"I have loved you for this cruel 500 years, Your Grace. Even when I knew your heart belongt to another, one that I pretended to be for many years in hopes to have you..." she hung her head down in shame and sadness as she whispered to the wind, unaware of you listening to her with a thight heart as she stood on the balcony that looked at the horizon of Fontaine.

Though a part of you still loved Egeria and Focalors, grieved their death and often refused any exclamations of your obvious love for the "puppet" version of her...

Now, you couldn't help but agree with everyone and even Focalors, as you stared at Furina's back with a saddened yet soft smile.

"No, I don't have feelings for her, Focalors!" You denied her obvious teasing, although she raised a brow at your flushed face with a smirk.

"It's okay to have feelings for two people at the same time, love! Even more so when It's you, the All-Creator!"

"Focalors!" You bursted out with a hand clutching your chest in embarrasment, dress flowing behind you with each movement as you ran away from her teasing remarks as she laughed at your misery which put a smile on your face even when your body said otherwise.

What a good melody it was as her light laugh resonated in your Chambers...

"What? I'm sure there are others who wish to be your consort so badly!" She rolled over on your bed, laying on her stomach as her feet kicked back and forth happily, her fingers twirling her hair as she gazed at your back, biting her lips but mind actually busy with... This new revelation.

Focalors had always been a different kind. When all the other Archons were either greedy or keen on fighting, she loved scheming her plans and watching in silence from the shadows. That way, most thought of her to be powerless and not strong enough to be an Archon... Unaware of the fact that sometimes brains was much stronger than brawn and they were being imbeciles by not noticing this.

And that fact was what attracted you to her in the first place, eventually resulting with a happy and Holy unity of two person in love much to Focalors enjoyment as she rubbed it on her fellow Archons' face.

But in this new case, although she was surprised by the turn of events, she was fine with sharing You... With her humane prototype Furina.

Someone she was very fond of, even though she was created to act like the Hydro Archon herself... Someone Focalors was proud to create who was slowly becoming what she always aspired Furina to be.

Human.

"Alright, fine! I get it! So what if I have feelings for her? It's not like-"

"You should confess to her."

You still remembered how Focalors smiled softly at that time, no hatred or dislike or even jeaolusy evident on her face as she encouraged you to follow your heart, knowing the truth behind your protective stance concerning your feelings for Furina.

She knew how this plan would end, deceiving the rogue Heavenly Principles never came without a price... And she didn't want you to be alone when it happened, didn't want your kind heart to harden with grief and loneliness.

Furina would be much better of a wife for you, than Focalors could ever be. After all, what kind of wife would give up on her own spouse just when they would have their happily ever after?

At that time, such absurdity repulsed you.

You, having feelings for another? Yet alone someone who was created to deceive your traitor of a first creation Celestia?

Ridiculous.

Not that you thought of her to be ridiculous because she was obviously adorable whenever a new human invention or music excited her and she came to you, begging you to accompany her so that she could understand humans better since you were the one who created such complex yet intriguing beings.

And definetly not that you decided that blue suited her well, when you introduced her to new clothings that complemented her in the best way possible.

"Now, I see that I could never be that... If only true love was enough..."

But poor Furina, now completely human and free, didn't know about any of this. She still was a prisoner in her own cruel mind which yelled self-deprecating and harsh words to her, mocking her for falling for her God.

It wasn't even her intention to be created that way. She didn't mean to fall for your kindness and unconditional love, not when she knew she received them because she was created to replace your lover as the Archon of Fontaine. She knew you only spent time with her because Focalors probably asked you to, because you and her had to get along well for the next 500 years as Focalors remained in shadows for the plan you two made to work.

She knew she would be thrown aside as soon as her part of the play was over...

Yet, her heart still beated hard whenever your eyes found hers and she held onto your hand at times she was afraid.

She still fell for you hopelessly whenever you patiently watched and listened to her plays and antics, and even cracked a smile whenever she forgot what she was supposed to say.

And whenever she saw that smile and hear that laugh, it was like she had become more human as more time she spent in your presence.

But defeated she was, she knew it was impossible to have you for real. At least now that she lost all of the godly power she held and Fontaine was safe from the evil clutches of Celestia as you prepared to go and face Them.

Your Shades.

But, as the once-God-of-Justice... She was wrong about one thing, one thing you felt guilty about: The fact that she thought of herself to be unworthy of You, when it was possibly the other way around.

Indeed, if only she knew the truth... That You held her at the highest position in your heart, which had been the case for 500 years unknown to both you and her.

"I doubt she is strong enough for all these, Focalors... However, such fragile thing yet even if she faces many hardships, she is perfectly human." You idly traced patterns on her arm as she laid next to you in your realm, humming quietly while she relaxed back onto you. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle at her kitten-like behaviour, nuzzling to you while you inhaled her flowery scent...

Though your thoughts were cut short when another set of heterochromatic eyes came to your mind, the same color as the one between your arms... But more humane, more expressive... One that made you fall in love and gaze at for a long time as the sun framed her face in the most ethereal way...

You froze when you realized an affectionate smile lifted your lips up, shaking your head as your heart started to pick up. Suddenly, her excited smile whenever you brought another set of sweets from another world for her to try, or the rare curious and not teasing stare while she munched on food as she listened to what you said with passionate eyes, as if she wished to hear more of you, be in your presence more...

Or that one time when she was just so close for you to lean down and capture her lips-

And the woman next to you heard the exact moment you realized your feelings in your heart.

As if she knew your inner thoughts, she slowly rose up and stared down at your thoughtful eyes with loving ones as her hand caressed your cheeks, making you close your eyes in peace with the calming sound of water almost lulling you to sleep. "Is she weak in your eyes for it?"

Focalors was an Archon, blessed with just a tiny part of your power, but she was able to see right through you. She knew you had been harbouring some kind of... Attraction towards a certain eccentric one that was also too bad at hiding her own feelings as she quite literally hung off of you every chance she got, much to her amusement.

What was even funnier was the fact that you too, though the Creator, were quite bad at hiding your feelings as well and if she needed to be the one to step up and make you realize them soon, Focalors was going to make it come true in one way or another.

"She simply... Amazes me with the strength of her will." you stopped to ponder for an answer for the best words to describe your thoughts, without showing much of your raging emotions. It wasn't a lie after all, the way she sacrificed herself for her people simply amazed you and made your affections grow for the girl. Knowing this, Focalors only giggled knowingly as you rolled your eyes at her when a question whose answer was very obvious and tenderly uttered by you, left her lips.

"And what would you do if all of this ends one day?"

"I'd still be there for her until the end of time..."

"I know you're listening, Your Grace..."

You chuckled under your breath at how she still held some powers of her, though you weren't surprised since she was the secret beloved of the Creator and therefore, the world still blessed her with powers; as you stepped away from your place in the shadows, heels slowly clicking against the marble floor. You soon came to a stop next to her, looking at the rejoicing people of Fontaine who were praying to and thanking both her and You, staring at the horizon together.

Dreading what needed to be said, even if the harsh truth would break her heart, as you looked at her from the side.

"I loved and still love Focalors, Furina."

She sniffled, nodding her head in understanding. She already knew that and prepared herself for the rejection she would have to face. She was happy that her people was safe and happy, that the prophecy didn't happen and destroy her nation...

But, did she not deserve happiness too? Didn't she shed enough tears silently by herself? She didn't even know what she was supposed to do with her new life given to her, a free life for her to enjoy and do as she liked...

With the person she loved the most.

Your heart twisted painfully at her crystal eyes glossing over, which made you question yourself for a second if that was the right way to confess. You were so sure Focalors was laughing her ass off at one point up there, watching this comedic scene quite amused but right now, you needed to take a step to both of your's happiness and make things right as you took a hold of her hand that stood next to her side idly and sighed.

Here we go...

"But I also love you." She whipped her head as soon as she processed your words, eyes immediately focusing on your form that was just a few feet away from her. Her eyes noticed you wearing the Hydro Sigil Necklace she specifically gifted you with, different colored blue hues mixing together in harmony as the stars of Teyvat complemented your face alongside that necklace that shone with the light of a new day in the most perfect way.

The necklace which was the proof of her first doing as Furina and not the Hydro Archon, without any saying from Focalors.

"Y-Your Grace? W-What does it-"

"Did you really think I didn't know the truth about your and Focalors plan? I was the one who suggested it and she was the one who progressed it!.. It seems I truly have a weakness when it comes to Hydro girls!" You joyfully exclaim with a giggle, watching as her face turned pale before a deep crimson took over. Her mind turned to literal mush, unable to comprehend the sudden turn of events.

Was this one of her wild dreams where she was just... happy with you? No consequences?

But no, this was very much so real as she looked down at your joined hands together and stared into your eyes.

" You have always wanted to have someone listen to your struggles, your pain and burdens, right?" Furina couldn't help the squeak that left her, hurriedly nodding her head as she allowed her tears to fall freely after your next words, hugging you thightly as her tears soaked your gown.

"After years of watching you grow in yourself as the woman who loves all kind of sweets and a knack for being dramatic... The innocent human who endured everything we have planned, unfortunately... I can't help but confess that I had fallen deeply for you."

"Therefore, I shall be that person. Forever, if you wish?" You gracefully took a hold of her slender and smaller hands, finger tips caressing her smooth and soft skin as if it was a fine china. Her heart, now human heart that was free of its shackles, swelled with love with each stroke your hands did.

And her heart caved in, her tears falling down on her cheeks and down to your palm gracefully as she gave a sincere smile amidst her own pain and relief, a smile of the happiness she was starting to have.

"I... That would be a great happiness, Your Grace." You chuckled affectionately, stroking her cheek with the tip of your finger as you landed a kiss on her forehead.

"None of that now... Y/N would do just fine." She beamed visibly at you and nodded, looking at the people below with a new kind of hope blooming inside her chest.

Maybe things would be better from now on?

"By the way, short hair really suits you well, love." You cheekily exclaimed with arms around her waist, hugging her from behind as you stared at the redness coating her cheeks.

Oh, yes... Everything would definetly be better for good.

With Inazuma, things weren't so good unforfunately because of the tense and rocky relationship You and Ei had.

When you had to go on a long work trip where you were to see from close how other universes were doing, not seeing your innocent and loving son with your wife wasn't on your "Top Ten Things to See When I Return" list.

Neither seeing the hunted Visions on your Statue was, as your children were in pain, crying and begging for you to come back and kneeling in front of...

"What's the meaning of this, Ei?"

When the citizens of Inazuma heard their Creator's voice as warmth and comfort engulfed them and freed them from the shackles that kept them bound to the ground, they failed to notice the edge in your tone or rather chose to ignore it.

The angry, scared yet disappointed edge as Teyvat rumbled beneath the feet of people and sky roared above them... All the while Ei stood in front of your shrine with an unreadable and cold face.

This, wasn't Ei... This couldn't be the woman you loved and had a child with...

Child... Baby... Son... Kunikuzushi...

Your eyes widened in fear for your little son, as there was no sight of him and you couldn't feel his presence in the city anymore. Panic overtook your face, heart dropping to your stomach at the possibility of Ei doing something she would regret later and guilt filling your every part at not being more mindful of how she was before you left.

It couldn't have been that bad, enough for her to do something stupid to him... Right?

Damn, you never imagined her hurting Kunikuzushi... She always seemed so loving and affectionate with him, perhaps she was a good actor.

"Ei, where is my Kuni? Where is my son?"

Ei continued to stare at your face as you begged her for answers desperately. Though it was another puppet of her, you could always sense and feel Ei in her and right now, you knew that behind the cold and irritating stare...

She, too, was breaking apart.

But surprisingly enough... You didn't care much about it, your only concern right now was your son. You didn't care that you referred to him as only your son and not hers.

She lost that previlege a long time ago, it seemed.

"He was too human..."

And that was enough to tell you what Ei had done.

You staggered back with a sob, eyes filling with scorching tears as your heart suddenly stopped from the spikes threatening to tear you apart. Even as a God, you weren't pain-proof and at that moment, you wished nothing more than not being able to feel that crashing pain.

Your hand instinctively went up to the necklace your baby son gifted you after a merchant saw him looking at it with huge amazement. Now, the old lady wasn't a fool as to not know who the boy that held stars in his wide and innocent purple eyes was.

Many even wondered where that kindness,sweetness and innocence came from when their Archon was usually... Aloof.

But they agreed that it must have come from you, his other parent and the one he loved and clinged on the most... The Creator that created the worlds with utmost love, selflessnes and kindness unmatched.

And they were right, as Kunikuzushi pointed to the purple and dark blue pendant with a loud coo and wide smile as his cheeks-still filled with baby fat- was reddened by the weather made him look even more cute and made the passerby's eyes fill with tears at the cute display, he kindly asked how much he needed to have the necklace for his mama. Some clenched their hands in cuteness agression, wanting to hug the baby thightly and pinch his cheeks...

But they knew they would be striken down by the Shogun if they did it... Though some still dared to pat his purple tufts of hair, knowing that their Creator never minded and rather loved the affection Their people gave to Their son, the Prince of Teyvat.

"I bough' fo' you, mama! How does it looks?" Kunikuzushi innocently asked as Ei and you looked at the toddling baby fondly who showed his newest treasure proudly with a shy smile, yet a bit insecure since he took a look at the many jewelries you had at home and thought you wouldn't like his gift.

You tenderly smiled from your position on the bed with hugging Ei and let him plop down on your lap, nuzzling to your chest like a kitten as he stared up at you with fullblown eyes, especting an answer from you with his little heart pounding in his chest excitedly.

He only got a tearful smile and a heart filled with unconditional love for him.

"Perfect, my lovely Kuni... Mama loves you so much... So, so much..." You hugged your son thightly to yourself, your heart constricting painfully for some unknown reason as if something bad was bound to happen...

But you foolishly didn't listen to your heart that told you to take a good look at your wife, who looked at the smiling toddler on your lap with somewhat sudden, cold eyes...

Though both of you shared the same parental love for the boy, unforfunately for you and Kunikuzushi... Ei had more plans for him and therefore wanted him to be perfect for it but his humanity was making him unperfect, whereas he was already perfect in your eyes for his humanity...

For his love and wonder for the world around him, his love for you in the most simple act you did... Fear for the unknown but feeling still safe because he knew his mama would be there to protect him from any bad guys and danger! You did it many times with the treasure hoarders, or the Hilichurls and assassins!

So, where were you? Why did you not come when he needed you, called for you, cried for you to save him from this so-called Doctor? Did you too abandon him because he made you upset?

In the end, you failed Kunikuzushi... You failed in every possible thing about him when you couldn't protect him from his own mother, the one who should have loved him and did everything in her power to keep him happy and smiling wide.

You failed at noticing Ei not being in her right mind and at being there for your family.

And now, you all were paying the price.

"And that is why he was perfect... I guess, just not for you." you gritted out angrily as you too pulled your sword out at the same time as she did, not seeing the tears that shone on her porcelain skin and regret for what she had done all those years ago washing over her.

Your disappointed face right before she scumbed to your power and will was only the cherry on top, as she kneeled on both knees in front of you, her hand discarding the katana that slained many living beings as her whole life slowly was torn apart by none other than her destructive hands and doings.

"I trusted the mother of my son... Just for you to abandon him and make him also believe I abandoned him too in this already painful life... Because I thought no harm would ever come to him, least I thought it would be from my own wife."

It seemed that your Ei had become someone else, and she held no value to neither your son who was the happy outcome of your marriage with her, nor You anymore... And even if she cried tears of river, she would never be able to convince you otherwise.

"I will find him and beg for his forgiveness..." you muttered weakly before you turned your back to her for good, at least until things calmed down, as you descended down on the shrine that once witnessed both your union and also the creation of your son...

And now, your departure.

"My love..." Ei weakly mumbled from behind you, finally realizing the severity of what she had done and now, lost... as your emotionless eyes found hers from below the stairs, dress dancing through the wind as if to mock her for her mistakes and failures, she understood that maybe it was her fault.

First her sister, then her friends, then her son and now... You.

The one she always loved from the beginning and swore herself to for Eternity...

She ruined everything, every good thing that ever happened to her because she was either late or didn't see the true value of those in her life...

Like the family you two had created, what should have been a new purpose and a second chance for her was now only another regret in her list of numerous mistakes.

"I'm not going to let him walk down on this path alone... Goodbye for now, Ei." you willed yourself not to look at her shivering form, you knew you couldn't take the sight in. Though you acted cold right now, a part of you still loved her deeply. That part still yearned for her and her heart that she insisted she buried a long time ago, that part still wished to see the small smile as you gifted her with yet another treat and kissed all over her face, later showing how much you truly loved her...

They all seemed so far away now, all those happy days were long gone...

Neither you nor her turned back to take one look at the other as she too retreated back to her Plane of Euthymia, or thought back to the abandoned dreams you both had as all the good memories suddenly started to fade away and you disappeared in front of her eyes to find your son, as you made it clear, and she didn't hold any grudges for the way you angrily spitted out for she too, felt ashamed for what she had done.

And perhaps you both always walked on different paths from the beginning...

She, to a path of Eternity in which she lost herself.

And You, to a path of mending whatever was left of your family and hoping to find your son.

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wavesoutbeingtossed · 7 days

Text

To continue riffing on the marriage/tradition stuff because that’s one of the themes I’m obsessed with in her discography, it’s fascinating because it would be easy to reduce it to, “she’s adhering to patriarchal societal norms in chasing the traditional nuclear family and that’s why she throws herself into these relationships,” but it’s just so reductive to well, how human beings exist in the world. Just because it’s a societal pressure doesn’t mean some people don’t genuinely want to get married or have families.

Yes, she’s been singing about it right back to her first album when she as 16. Yes, her view on it has evolved, from marrying the sweet neighbor boy to the princess fairytale early on (debut/fearless), to the disillusionment that increasingly pushed it out of the narrative (speak now/red/1989), to slowly letting herself believe in forever again (rep), to seemingly actually committed (lover), to questioning what that means (folklore/evermore) to trying to reconcile what it means for her current life (midnights). Every relationship she experienced throughout those periods informed those views and how *she* pursued it.

I think what makes it so interesting on TTPD is that it is EVERYWHERE, as I mentioned in my previous post about it. And it’s unsettling because it’s not just in the setting we expect it to be — e.g. a long term partner she’d previously indicated she was ready to marry — but also in songs about a man who swooped in to save her when she was low only to break her apart, in thinly-veiled fantasies about strange bedfellow neighbours, another thinly-veiled story about marrying the person you want consequences be damned, in taunting your on again/off again partner in a bar (e.g. i want to smash your bike or be your wife).

And it’d be easy to chalk it up to, well she’s in her 30s and the clock is ticking, she’s just obsessive! And there’s a nugget there about women and their bodies and both the lauding and weaponization thereof and everything that personally I’m dying to talk about at some point. But when it comes down to it, I’m willing to bet that the reason why it’s everywhere is because THAT WAS HER LIFE. That was the plan she’d taken for granted for so long — and I don’t just mean in a general sense as a girl in the world — but in the very real, very tangible way she was living her life and in the circumstances that led to what would be written about in TTPD. By working out all these scenarios through her songs (and tbh in whatever she was doing IRL that inspired them), she was grappling with and grieving the loss of the life she thought was ahead of her. We’ve talked about how pervasive grief has been on her recent albums, in all kinds of forms, and I think this is kind of the culmination of all of those worries.

She’s not the girl with the paper ring and all’s well did not end well to end up with him. She’s not the girl who has his midnights after cleaning up bottles on New Year’s Day. She couldn’t give him her wild or a child because it wasn’t enough. She may have even been the self-fulfilling prophecy of the girl who is fucked in the head, but feels more like the one left out on the landing.

So in TTPD, she is all of these things. She’s the neglected wife whose husband cheats on her so she runs off with an old flame. She’s the one who gets the jewel on her ring finger and talks about babies because he says it’s love. She’s the woman whose partner once made a promise but never followed through. She’s the hell-raiser who follows love in a different kind of getaway car while the town calls her mad, consequences be damned, but joke’s on them because she gets the wedding in the end anyway. She’s the wife who feeds her cheating husband to the swamps of Florida. She gets swept off her feet by an old flame to run down the aisle. SHE’S the one who gets to decide if she’s gonna marry him or decimate him (be his wife or smash his bike). She’s the girl who didn’t become the wife while she watches the one that got away marry his. She’s the woman scorned who has to call the whole thing off. She’s the saucy girl who bets her new lover is gonna marry her for real. She’s sold off as chattel to the highest bidder in an arranged marriage. She’s the young girl starry-eyed with the dreams she grew up with only to have them go up in flames, leaving only her pen behind to turn it into art.

She navigates all these scenarios because in the end, she isn’t any of them and she is all of them. She’s mourning what she gave up, mourning what she’s already lost, mourning the time she feels she wasted and could have started over. She’s mourning any number of women she could have been if she’d just tried something else, but also mourning that ultimately much of this was out of her hands. She’s grappling with a past that can’t change and a future that doesn’t exist. Every one of these scenarios is a way her life could have gone with any number of different decisions, but in the end, none of that matters, because she is who she is and what happened happened.

Obviously there’s a lot more going on in the album; she’s not just processing the end of relationships, she’s processing her fame and career and health and harassment and trauma and struggles and misogyny and any number of things in frankly shocking ways. But, I think there’s also no denying that this very important thing — the step many young adults expect to take in their lives — precipitated a whole lot of what went on, and may have even had a domino effect on all the other issues explored. It’s raw and vulnerable and ugly and funny and human.

Anyway apparently I’m back and thinking.

#maybe i should not sleep more often #the tortured poets department #writing letters addressed to the fire

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idkfitememate · 4 months

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*runs to give out creator idea before the seat is gone*

Dragon.

But not just any dragon.

Small chonk dragon.

(If you know about twisted wonderland I’m picturing Malleus in his dragon form in book 7)

Hehe the chonker ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ ᰔ

Imagine if you made your home in the Northland Bank, much to the Fatui’s chagrin-

And you surround yourself in mora. And the Fatui can’t do shit.

Why wanna know whyyyy?~

Because you are the Regrator’s little dragon~ you’re there to protect all the gold, precious metals and jewels.

Pantalone found you one day, guarding a single mora. He saw you, thought for all of two seconds, and took you in.

Now you guard a giant pile of gold >:)!

Also the fact that your breath weapon can switch through all 7 elements and are extremely strong ANYWAY-

The way this man would pamper you. You know those villains with that cat in their laps? Yeah that’s you guys.

He loved feeding you gems and stuff (like Spike from MLP lol) in front of his… less than well off colleagues. You cannot tell me this man isn’t just as sadistic as Dottore, just in a different way.

One breaks you physically, the other mentally (and breaks your bank).

Mans probably took out one of the most EXPENSIVE AND LEAST COMMON ORES IN ALL OF TEYVAT, one that could pay off GENERATIONS FOR DEBT FORM HUNDREDS OF FAMILIES, and just. Fed it to you.

He loves seeing his underlings cry what can I say.

You wanna know what would be worse? If you were somehow connected to Zhongli.

Probably more like a dad thing where you don’t have a human form but multiple dragon forms. You found a nice god, settled down, she rolled a nat 20 to seduce the dragon-

Boom Zhongli.

He goes to the bank to cash a check or something and sees what he thought was his long lost father on a Futui Harbingers lap just living life.

Old man vs Older man who’s gonna win?

This is a beautiful concept ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊˚-

Extra note: Yo I wrote this in notes without the post up for reference and ideas and went off the rails just realized this is Creator Dragon fuck how do I explain the Dad-li ark uh… uhhhh…. DRAGON WAS A DILF IN REAL LIFE AND TEYVAT WAS LIKE “Neat, have another son” OKAY BYE-

#anon <3 #asks <3 #Dragon!Creator

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pppeachyyys · 1 year

Text

the hassle i love

itoshi rin doesn't want you to go for anyone else but him.

badboy! itoshi rin, mention of blood / violence, comfort, confessions (?), gn reader

itoshi rin was not one to be a rowdy teenage boy.

at least that’s what everyone in his school thought. ‘he was the complete opposite of those kind of people’, they claimed. he was a quiet and gentle student, the kind that girls would swoon over for being so mysterious.

but deep behind that facade, you would know what he truly was like. itoshi rin was indeed a rowdy teenage boy that loved soccer and horror more than anything else. he got into fights every other day and won every single encounter he’s gotten into. he has a sour mouth, spitting words that only those with a cold heart could say.

itoshi rin was the complete opposite of a quiet and gentle student.

yet somehow, the way he would be careful with his words around you was different compared to the insults he threw at his blue lock teammates. he would always look out for you (claiming it was just for his own good) and almost look at you differently.

“that burns.” rin hissed the moment the antibacterial wipe made contact with his wounded skin, once porcelain and clean. you rolled your eyes in response.

“it’s your fault for doing this to yourself. why’d you even get into a fight this time ?” you complain. he averts eye contact, rather placing his gaze on the stack of bandages and gauzes.

sweat is still remnant on his forehead, black hair frizzled and messier than normal. his lashes bat up and down, giving you a glimpse of his jewel-green irises.

he mumbles something to himself that you cannot discern. choosing to ignore him, you secretly rip open a hello kitty plaster while he’s looking away and lean closer to his face, aiming at the cut under his turquoise eyes. your whole body is shifted from your chair to his, legs grazing against each other and arms touching.

that’s when rin comes to realize that you were awfully close to him this time. your hands cold against his warm cheeks, eyes concentrated on his cut. he quickly decides to himself that now would be perfect to tell you with no warning.

“it’s cause some dude was talking about you.”

you stop for a moment which signals for him to continue talking. “he was talking about how he was gonna try and get your number from a friend…” his eyes slowly move from the table to your own e/c eyes. “... and he just kept on going on and on, saying you were probably easy and all that bullshit. so of course i had to tell him otherwise.”

he huffs. “i hate when guys assume that stuff about you. it’s like they think they can just take you like that. makes me annoyed.”

had to tell him otherwise. makes me annoyed.

rins words go through your brain and you blink. once, twice. you’re quick to slap the bandage onto his face with a flustered look, clearly catching him off guard. now it’s his turn to blick once. twice.

“what is that even supposed to mean ?! also, as much as i appreciate you looking out for me, i would rather you not get into fights every other day.” you scold him and the spot you hit him in becomes a bit red.

“i can’t help it. lukewarm guys like him don’t deserve anything. plus they don’t even go to our school so it’s more of a reason to beat him up.” you roll your eyes at his words and stay quiet.

he places a hand on the plaster, running a finger over the material. “am i a lukewarm guy, y/n ?” rin asks quietly, almost like he is scared to ask you such a question.

you aren’t sure how to react. he looks more fragile than normal. the way you had such a hold onto him, making him so weak at the sight of just you. turquoise eyes are laced with yearning. “you’re anything but a lukewarm guy rin.” you say.

“do you prefer guys like him then ?”

his words are cautious. you look straight back at him. it’s the first time you’ve seen him so vulnerable and you can’t help but yearn for it more.

you’re quick to nervously place your hand against his cheek and he leans towards it in an instant, sighing. “nope. i prefer guys like you actually.”

there’s a sudden flash inside rins eyes. “actually it’s more like i just prefer you, even if cleaning you up is a hassle sometimes. you’re my favorite, rin.” you say with a smile, praying he wouldn’t shake you off or ignore you after hearing your words.

“your heartbeat.”

“huh ?”

suddenly rin presses his lips against the pulse of your wrist. without another word, he kisses the spot with such gentleness, catching you off guard.

“your heartbeat is just like mine right now.” he then takes your hand and places it to his chest. you can feel the quickening of his heart, rapidly beating against the warmth of his body. his whole face is flushed cutely.

you attempt to not stammer over your words but the way he looks up to you was too hard to resist. his ears were burning red and you swore that your pulse was synced with his from how fast it was beating. you whisper. “rin…”.

“there’s a reason why i can’t stand when other people want you. i want you to only treat me like this. so don’t go to other guys, y/n.”

he wraps his arms around your waist, the grip strong as though it refused to let you go. the whole room smells like rin (or was it because you were so close to him?) and your head is spinning with what you were supposed to say.

“well… it’s not like i’ll ever treat anyone else like this. you yourself is too much of a hassle anyway.” you reply. slowly, a smile grows on your face.

“but you’re my hassle to deal with.”

sure, itoshi rin could be considered a bad boy. but he would always be the best for you.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #blue lock #bllk #bllk imagines #blue lock oneshots #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #blue lock x you #rin itoshi #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #gn reader #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x y/n #fanfic #fanfiction

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satirates · 1 year

Text

Now that the French cc are mostly offline (it's 2:30 am in France), here's what I gathered from their reactions:

Antoine Daniel: Seems lost. To be fair, it's only is second experience playing minecraft, so he don't know how to do anything X). It looks like he had fun at least. But he's going to sleep early, like the old man he is (33). He also shows no interest on the egg :(

Kameto: He looked lost too. I didn't watch is stream so much, but is chat seems to hate the experience. So I'm not sure if he's going to be there so much. Also, try to rob Pomme the first time he interacted with her

Aypierre: Doing his things as usual. He likes the server and will be back to do more stuff. I'm not gonna lie to you guys, he is probably going to be the main builder for the French. He already started to ask him for everything. He says he's going to take care of Pomme when the others are not there. He is also very skilled in building, I can't wait to see what he's gonna do!

Étoile: He REALLY likes the server. The mod and the new people are interesting to him. He's already running around trying to slaughter mobs X). Every French CC think he is going to accidentally kill Pomme. And, you know what? It's a very strong possibility. He said he will try to take great care of her. He mean well, but we all know he's going to be an absent parent that only return from war to tell their child of the horror they witness. I'ts going to be really interesting on is side

Baghera: She is IN LOVE with Pomme! She's calling her "My little jewels " and everything!!! She started to panic every time she's not around, so cute. She's also already complaining about being a single parent. Furthermore, she intends to come often to the server to build and take care of Pomme. She also has a lot of positives interactions with everybody on the server and look very excited to be par of it!

Pomme: She is so cute OMG! Fun fact, she's called Pomme because the French thought it was funny how the others cc keep saying " Je suis un garçon et je mange des pommes". Other names ideas were... interesting... Her name meen Apple! She's very clumsy so far, I don't think her admin is accustomise to the server yet. She also gets lost a lot XD

#QSMP #qsmp #qsmp french #q.baghera #q.Antoine #q.Kameto #q.Aypierre #q.Étoile #qsmp eggs #qsmp Pomme

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jelzorz · 28 days

Text

174.

The Celestial elves say no. Of course they say no. Callum doesn't know what else he expected. Did he really think they could just waltz into the Star Scraper and ask to borrow the Nova Blade and a handful of quasar diamonds, and then get them, no questions asked?

His head still hurts from that vision, that dream that felt far too much like that time he'd collapsed after doing Dark Magic for the first time, and though he and Rayla have been granted a room for their trouble, the Nova Blade is still out of reach, and those quasar diamonds are embedded into that crown the blind priest refused to share. Rayla is lying on the bed, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling of stars, dazed and a little defeated, he thinks, because those diamonds are the only way to free her parents, and they'll never get them, not like this, and meanwhile the sword—

Callum makes a face. He's been pacing up and down the length of the room for about twenty minutes because there is... one more thing they could try. One last chance to obtain the weapon that might save them all and the jewels that would free her parents. It's just... not a particularly bright idea. Not a very legal one, even here.

"What are you thinking?" asks Rayla at last. She sits up in the bed, wary, exhausted, like even she doubts their mission here is one they can complete. "You've been pacing for ages. Want to share with the class?"

Callum presses his lips together. "I don't know," he says after a moment. "I just... We need that sword and those diamonds, there's got to be a way to convince them—"

Rayla lets out a hollow laugh. "Yeah, no. I don't think there's anything we could say to change their minds."

"Yeah, but—"

She flops back down. "I dunno, Callum," she mumbles. "I want to get my parents out of those coins so bad, and I know you want that sword to use against Aaravos but... I don't think there's anything else we can do here. They've made it clear it's not happening and I... don't want to get my hopes up for nothing."

He grimaces then, hating how hopeless she sounds, hating the wobble in her voice and the way it makes his heart ache in ways he will never be able to explain. There's still that last resort, isn't there? The final chance to get everything they need in one go, with permission or without it, and it all comes down to what they are and aren't willing to do.

But that would mean—

He shakes his head. No. It's stupid. It's dangerous. It would bring the wrath of the Celestial elves right to Katolis' doorstep. Ezran would be furious, but it would also mean...

He glances at Rayla, at the way her eyes are dull and unseeing with resignation. His heart stutters for her, for the thought of her happily reunited with the people she loves most, the brilliance of her smile and the love she deserves.

Hasn't she done enough for everyone? Hasn't she sacrificed enough to get just one good thing?

"Don't give up yet," he decides. His resolve feels like steel and jelly at the same time, like he would do this for her, no question about it but ony as long as he doesn't give himself the time to think twice. Rayla turns her head to him, confused, daring to hope, and Callum closes his fingers into fists at his side, refusing go home empty handed, refusing to let Rayla down like so many others before him.

"Get your stuff together," he says. "Wait for me here. When I get back, you gotta be ready to run."

She narrows her eyes at him. "Callum."

"You trust me, right?"

She sits up slowly, suspicious of him, of the resolve in his eyes. "Yes," she says after a moment.

He swallows, his nerve wavering, just for a moment. Then he nods and clenches his jaw tight. "Back in a minute," he mutters, wrenching the door open before he can change his mind.

He would do anything for her. He's done worse.

Stealing is not the furthest he can fall.

#callum in his nic cage voice: im gonna steal them #[insert national treasure gif here]#me with my head in my hands: he'd do it too hes so fucking stupid when it comes to rayla #in anticipation #rayllum

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weirdagnes · 18 days

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Since i can’t pour energy into writing a whole fic/drawing stuff yet, I’m gonna dump some headcanons I have on Mishuggy.

(Long post ahead)

Shanks only bathes in the sea so its smell became his trademark scent. Buggy loves the seawater scent on him. He can never bathe in the sea anymore, so it brings him comfort when he cuddles with Shanks bc it’s the closest he can get to being in contact with the sea without feeling weak. Every time they meet, Shanks makes sure to bathe in the sea first before meeting Buggy so cuddle time will last longer.

One of Mihawk’s stims is running his hand through Buggy’s hair.

Mihawk is a night person, Shanks is an insomniac, Buggy is a morning person. Mihawk often joins Shanks when he can’t sleep, some wine and talking. Sometimes they’d be quiet and admire a sleeping Buggy.

Buggy’s voice gets low and rough often when his social battery is drained or he’s not in his stage persona (which is a very rare occurrence). Mihawk finds this incredibly attractive.

Shanks absolutely adores Buggy’s voice cracks.

Shanks is the best kisser, Mihawk is the most awkward/timid, Buggy has the most kissable lips (Shanks loves it when his lipstick leaves stains) but because of his nose, he’s the most awkward to kiss (if you’re not a professional Buggy-kisser like Shanks!)

Mihawk may not prefer lips-to-lips kissing, but he does love kissing other parts of the body like the hands, the shoulder, etc.

Buggy’s lowkey attentive to Mihawk’s infodumps on different kinds of blades, its uses and history. He’s fond of blades as well but more on short blades like daggers and machetes. He loses his mind seeing how cool Mihawk’s cross pendant knife is, and couldn’t resist showing off to him the hidden knives and explosives in his body (Mihawk wonders how he has not killed himself yet by accident).

Mihawk kinda cringes on Buggy’s habit of licking knives. He asks how has he not cut his tongue yet, Buggy is like “Hawky are u fr” then he chops off his tongue and Mihawk is horrified but quickly felt stupid remembering Buggy had devil fruit powers.

Buggy loves cherries and other sweet fruits. Hates pineapple way before he ate the Chop Chop fruit, and his distaste for it increased after eating it.

Shanks likes fish and Mihawk likes vegetable dishes (borderline vegan at this point).

Buggy loves warm colors (reds, oranges, yellows, gold). It just so happens that Mihawk and Shanks are associated with red and yellow.

Even though Mihawk and Buggy are complete opposites of a spectrum, they surprisingly get along well in terms of hobby. They both like to read, for one. Mihawk will mention a book in one of his infodumps and Buggy will be like “Oh yeah I love that one chapter where…” They both like art as well; Mihawk drew and painted in his free time when he was living in the castle, preferring still objects, dead sceneries, and chiaroscuro lightings.

Other than performance art (acting and acrobatics), Buggy is into cartography and drawing landscapes with oil pastels, but he often does maps more. When he does draw landscapes, the subject are often places where he has strong fondness/feelings of (his circus tent, Loguetown, the sea, etc). He uses small paper mediums and tucks them away. He only got to try painting when Mihawk offered. They had fun and created abstract - Buggy splashes paint spotaneously and generously, Mihawk feels the waste of paint but eventually lets loose (Buggy’s encouragement) and tried stroking the paintbrush like he wields his sword (when the canvas was slashed, they considered it a finished artwork).

Buggy and Mihawk also likes shiny things. Buggy loves treasure-finding more as an activity sure, but opening a chest full of shiny gems and trinkets is also what makes it enjoyable. He’s fond of jeweled earrings and rings but would rather keep them in a chest than wear them daily. Mihawk’s fondness for shiny things began with blades, but it also extended to shining gold colors. He’s not fond of gold for wealth purposes, he just likes shiny things.

Mihawk hates swimming whereas Shanks and Buggy love it (Buggy loves it more, but can’t do it anymore after eating his devil fruit). Mihawk hates getting wet for a long period of time + swimming is a strenuous activity, but he only learns it bc it’s a necessity for survival esp he travels by sea (and also bc there was one time where he almost drowned and its one of his most embarrassing memories. He was glad he travelled alone bc he’ll die of embarrassment forever if anyone lived to see that)

Shanks is a generous gift-giver. He isn’t materialistic himself, but the moment either Buggy or Mihawk express a passing comment about a rare wine he wanted to try someday or a map he wants to get his hands on - you got it. Shanks WILL find a way.

Whenever they go out together, Mihawk cringes at their fashion tastes. Shanks is more of a “this shirt is 10yrs old but hey its still usable” kind of guy. Buggy wears the most eyestrain clown outfits ever that will make you wonder “how did i end up with this guy”. In Shanks and Buggy’s head, they think Mihawk is an edgelord with his dark outfits on every occasion. Despite all this though, they find each other handsome.

#the headcanons just piled up over time qwq #one piece #buggy the clown #op buggy #dracule mihawk #op mihawk #red haired shanks #op shanks #mishuggy #shanks x buggy x mihawk #mihawk x shanks #shanks x buggy #mihawk x buggy #shuggy #mishanks #bughawk #headcanons #long post

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asmutwriter · 7 months

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The Gangsta's Wife (Part 1)

DESCRIPTION: (1920) You live a pretty normal life. Living with you're two younger sisters, having moved back to your hometown from when you were younger. This is where you meet the infamous Thomas Shelby who gives you an offer you cant refuse

WORD COUNT: 3364

Next / Master List

WARNINGS: smoking, implied violence, slight sexism, swearing, drinking

DISCLAIMERS

This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

I have not watched Peaky Blinders so this may not be accurate to the actual TV show. It will also not follow the timeline of the show. But I hope you enjoy.

The three brothers sit around the table inside the little room. The one in their pub. The soft chattering of people outside as they play a game of poker. "Play the next hand will you" Tommy says as his two brothers look at him in shock.

"Can you just run past us what you just said again? I think my hearing must be going as I swear you just said you wanted to get married" his younger brother says

"You heard me correctly"

"So who's the lucky lady" the older says

"I've not found her yet" they both laugh "I know it sounds like a ridiculous fantasy. I reckon if we got a girl that has no prior relations to us or the type of stuff that we do then people would be more likely to trust us. Therefore wanting us to be in business more. It will get rid of some of the negativity we have surrounding our name"

"I'm sure we could easily find one off the streets for you" the younger teases as he lets out a low laugh

"I want someone who doesn't get scared easily. Don't want her to get spooked and run off during the honeymoon"

"Well we wish you luck on that journey" The older says as they finish up their game. Calling it a night they head out. Putting on their hats and coats as they start walking. Tommy lighting a cigarette as the three of them walk. His two brothers walking on slightly ahead as he goes to throw the last bit of his smoke down. It had gotten late by now that they didn't expect to bump into someone. Quite literally.

You run down the alleyway. Turning to face behind you to see if he was following. You turn back just as you bump into someone. He grabs your elbow as to stop you from falling straight onto your ass "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry" you stutter out. Eyes going to the alleyway. The strangers eyes fall to your neck. The dark bruising around it. He looks down the alleyway. His hand falling from your elbow as he meets your gaze again.

"Tommy?" you hear someone calling as you dart your eyes between the three figures

"I- I need to go" a mild panic in your voice as you start to walk away. Your eyes constantly go back to the alleyway. You turn away from him. Bumping into the two other men as you walk past. "I'm sorry. I need to go" they move out your way as you run past them.

Some people would call you a thief. You prefer the term con woman. And a good one you are. Allowing you to be able to steal jewels and money without people noticing. This allowed you to keep up your income. That's what had caused the bruising around your neck though. You got caught by someone who didn't take your petty theft lightly.

You run to your house. Opening the door you pretty much slam it behind you. Your little sister jumps out of bed.

"Flo!" she calls out. Hugging you. You hug her back. Seeing your other younger sister opening here eyes at you.

"We were wondering when you'd be back"

"I'm here now" you kiss your sister on the top of her head. You grab into your coat pocket. Pulling out a necklace and bracelet. Followed by a pair of earrings. Elizabeth grabs it from you as she sits up on the bed.

"Oh my god!" she looks at it, holding them up to her ears "what do we think?"

"Ooh very fancy. Look like a proper little lady" she grins at you causing you to chuckle. She hands them back to you as you put them back in your coat. "I plan on selling them tomorrow. Then we can get that house we were looking at. Until then though we should be getting to bed. Come on" she nods. Jumping back into bed. You pull the covers up over the both of them. Stroking the hair out of their eyes as you grab a blanket. Going over and sleeping on the sofa on the adjacent wall.

You'd managed to sell the items the next day. Getting a good amount of money in exchange for the house. That and your savings from the previous months. You find the current seller of the house you were wanting. Him smoking outside the building, chatting to someone else. You walk over to him "I'd like to buy this house" he looks at you, eyeing you up and down

"You can't afford it" you reach into your pocket handing him a wad of cash. He looks at the money. Then at you

"Why don't you get your husband to come along. I'll talk to him. Alright sweetheart?" you take out some more money.

"I'm buying this house today" he looks back at the money in your hand.

"Ok then love" he goes to take the money from your hand but you move it away. Holding out your other hand

"The keys" he chuckles. Going into his pocket he takes out some keys. Handing them to you as you take them. Then handing him the money.

"Thank you gentlemen. Now excuse me" you go and open the front door. Going inside your new house.

A few days had passed. You'd fully moved into your home. Not that you had much to move from your small box house. Your sisters loved the new place. The three of you had been so used to sharing the same bedroom for years that it felt strange to have your own personal spaces. But you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy the privacy.

You walk down the street. Arms crossed over your torso as the winter air chills you. You feel a couple of spots of rain. Quickening your pace in hopes to get home before it starts hacking it down. But you're to late. You quickly run over to the nearest building you can as to keep dry from the poor weather. Opening the door as you go inside.

Dripping onto the nice floor as you look around the pub. Empty. You walk over to the bar. Taking off your coat and placing it next to you on the stall. Listening to the rain as you wait for it to calm down. You don't pay much mind to your surroundings. Jumping as you hear a voice.

"I think you're in the wrong place" you turn to look as you jump up from your seat. Two piercing blue eyes watching you from one of the booths. His body slumped against the back of the chair.

"Sorry Mr Shelby. I just- its pissing it down out there and the door was open so I-" he raises his hand slightly. Causing you to stop. He tilts his head at you. Eyes scanning over your body before he speaks, motioning at the seat opposite him.

"Sit" you look at the front door. Hearing the wind picking up more. Your body screaming at you to run. Get out of this place. But going against your better judgement you stand up from your stall. Your body tense as you slide into the booth opposite him. He pours a glass, pushing it towards you.

"I'm ok thank you"

"I insist" you look at his eyes. Then at the drink. Picking it up as you take a sip. Placing the beverage down onto the table and passing it back to him. "You're that girl from a few weeks ago"

"I don't know what kind of night you had a few weeks ago but I can promise you that we've never met before" he chuckles at your statement. Your boldness intriguing him.

"You ran into me. You had bruises around your neck" his eyes go to your throat. You shuffle slightly under his gaze.

"Even if it was me then my business is my own" you say confidently. Eyes meeting his as he nods

"I can drink to that" he picks up the glass. Taking a sip of it before placing it back down in the center of the table.

"Why are you drinking here alone?"

"Like you said. My business is my own" you nod, half smiling as you lean forward and grab the glass from the middle again. Drinking the remainder of the liquid. Placing the cup down. He takes it, pouring some more. Sipping it before placing it back to the middle of the two of you

"I should be getting back" as if on cue you hear the rain start to pick up more. "Or maybe not" you say, a slight annoyance in your voice

"Looks like you're going to be here for a while" he says. Motioning at the bar "Grab another glass" You look at him. Then look at the drink he's already poured. You stand up, going behind the counter and grabbing one. You head back over to him, sitting down as you place the cup down. He takes it from you. Pouring you a glass and handing it to you. That's when you notice the blood on his knuckles. Your breath hitches slightly.

He's fully aware of what you've seen. There's no way he can't know that you've seen his hands. But he remains unfazed. Instead he calmly drinks his drink. Eyes on you as he places the cup onto the table. Watching you. "Do you have a pack of cards on you?" you say. More to try and help your nerves then to make small talk. Avoiding his cold gaze as best as you can as you. He shakes his head as you let out a soft 'oh'.

"What's your name?" He asks as he reaches into his pocket. Taking out some cigarettes. He offers you one. The pack facing you. You reach over, grabbing one out

"Florence. My friends call me Flo though" you say, placing the stick into your mouth as he takes one for himself. Grabbing out a light he lights his one.

"What can I call you then?" Before reaching over with the lit match. You lean over the table as he lights the end for you. Putting the match out as you sit back down onto your seat properly. Taking the smoke from your mouth as you look at him. Head titling slightly

"Flo" you say, causing him to half smile. He takes the item from his mouth, replacing it with his drink before speaking again

"You new around here Flo?"

"I grew up here but moved to London when I was about 12. Moved back a few months ago"

"Is it anything like how you remembered?" you laugh slightly

"I have a lot of fond memories of this place from when I was a kid. But now... lets just say that things are a bit different now that I'm older" he nods. You have some more of your drink. You go to say something else just as the door opens. You recognize him as one of the Shelby boys. John you believe his name to be.

"Tommy we need you back home" he says, his eyes falling onto you as you turn to face him. "Who's the girl?"

"No one" he says "what do you need help with?"

"Family matter". You stand up

"That is my cue to leave" you say. Going over to the bar again and grabbing your coat "thank you for the drinks Mr Shelby" you say, smiling softly at him as he smiles back. Nodding towards you as you head outside. Going past the younger brother half cautiously as you walk back home. You must've been in the pub longer then you remember as the rain has practically stopped by now. Letting you have a relatively dry walk back.

It had been a week since you moved in. Your sisters were at school so you decided to have a day out. Going out the front door. Turning around to lock it. Just as you see your neighbor coming out of the house next to you. You look and see John coming out. You look away quickly. Locking he front door as he turns to face you

"You're the lass from the pub" You face him and smile slightly

"I don't know what you mean" he nods slightly. Looking at your house as you walk into the street more. "Have a nice day Mr Shelby" you smile as you walk off. Trying to get rid of any business you may have with the Shelby family and the Peaky Blinders.

You go on a bit of a shopping spree during your day out. Not buying anything to ornate but possibly spending more money then you should have. Buying fresh fruit and veg, some bread and other necessities. You meet up with one of your friends and have a chat with her.

You head back to your house. Unlocking the front door and heading inside. You place the food down onto the kitchen side, starting to put the stuff away. A few minutes go past before there's a knock at the door. You look, unsure of who it could be. Elizabeth and Mary would just walk in knowing you leave it unlocked for them. You go to the door. Opening it. John and Tommy standing by it. Johnny leaning against the door frame. Before you have time to speak (or close the door on them) the youngest brother speaks. A smile on his face that you can't read.

"Mind if we come in?" your eyes dart between the two men

"Sure" you manage to say. Moving out the way and motioning for them to come in. Body tense as they both head inside. You go into the living room "Do you want anything to drink?" Trying to keep your cool as John sits down. Tommy leans against the wall as he watches you.

"No. You see we've come to have a little chat" the younger says

"About?"

"Are you spying on us?" the older says

"Why would you think that?"

"You bump into us late at night, then you come into the pub. Now you're living next door" the younger says, leaning back onto your sofa as they both watch you. His eyes darting as he expresses his words with his hands.

"Its a small town Mr Shelby. Purely coincidence" he stands up. Turning to face you as he takes his cap off. Your eyes dart to the object before going back up to his face "I am aware of who you are. What you are apart of. But I am not a spy. So there will be no need for you to use that" you motion at his hat. Your eyes fixed onto his as you feel yourself shaking slightly from fear. Trying to regain your composure.

"We asked around about you. No one seems to know who you are. An introverted young woman. No husband or family. Only recently moved in"

"I am orphaned. My mother died when I was young. Father died during the war. I lived in London for a while but made some enemies recently so moved back here where I grew up. If that is all the questions you have then I would like you boys to leave my house" John places his hat down onto the side table. Sitting back down on the sofa as he looks at you. Smiling

"I think I'll take that drink now"

You clench your fists slightly but nod. Going into the kitchen you make them both a drink. Resting your hands against the counter top as you curse at yourself slightly. How did you end up here? You really did not want to make the Peaky Blinders you enemy.

You walk back in. Placing two cups down. You stay standing. Folding your arms over your body in an effort to hide your hands shaking. You hear the front door open. Your sisters walking in. "Flo you'll never guess what happened today at... school..." Elizabeth says the last word quietly as she walks into the living room. Mary coming in and grabbing her sisters hand as they look at the two men, then you.

"Why don't you two head upstairs, hmm?" she nods slightly. Her eyes going to the two men before she goes up to her room. Taking her sister with her. You shut the living room door. Shutting your eyes as you lean your head on the door. "Fuck" you mutter. Turning back around as the older one speaks

"You told us your family was dead"

"No I said I was orphaned. I never said my family was dead. Very different things" he nods as he keeps watching you.

"What enemies did you make in London?"

"None that I can't handle" the younger brother laughs. Making you turn towards him "I've dealt with far worse then either of you boys could imagine. I know how to be safe"

"Don't you get worried about your sisters though?" you stay silent "I mean, the reason you didn't tell us about them must've been so we would never find out about them. Never be able to harm them" the younger says. Almost mocking. You take a step closer to him. Keeping heavy eye contact as you speak

"If you ever touch my sisters I will personally rip you apart. Limb by limb. Do you understand?" he stands up. Taking a step towards you

"Was that a threat?" he says. Starting to walk over to you. Tommy moves, facing towards his brother as he puts a hand onto his shoulder as your eyes stay on each others.

"Johnny" he says. A sternness in his voice making the younger look at him. "Go for a walk" he looks at his brother, looks at you. Mutters something under his breath as he opens the door. Leaving. You hear the front door slam shut. You avoid his eyes as you start babbling an apology.

"I'm sorry about that I-"

"I want to make a deal with you" he says. He leans against the wall again. He folds his arms over his torso. His demeanor was a lot more relaxed then yours. You couldn't read him though. You turn to face him properly. Your silence making him continue "I am looking for a wife. I need someone that has no previous associations with myself or my businesses. A positive beacon to my currently negative lifestyle. One that can make me seem trustworthy for future business opportunities"

"Mr Shelby" you say as a soft whisper, your eyes fixed to his as he continues talking

"You said yourself that you have a lot of enemies. Putting not only your life but your sisters lives in danger. I could protect you. The family you have would be safe. I can provide you with money. New clothes. So much food that you would never know what sleeping hungry felt like again" he takes a step towards you. Bringing his arms down as he places them into the pockets of his waistcoat. "You'd be my wife. You'd come with me to professional settings. Help me gain the trust of people that I couldn't on my own" he reaches down. Picking up both the glasses you poured. Handing you one "what do you say?".

You blink at him a couple of times. Taking you a little while before processing what he said. "I am flattered Mr Shelby but... wouldn't a girl of higher status be more rewarding for you? I come from nothing. I have nothing to give you" he pauses for a moment. Eyes unmoving from yours.

"Every time I've met you you've shown me a bravery that no one else has. That is something I value more then riches and materialistic items" you nod slowly as you look down. Thinking through your options before lifting your head up, meeting his gaze as you gently take a glass from him

"Looks like we're getting married" you softly say as you clink your glass to his before downing the liquid. Him letting out a soft chuckle before doing the same

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