#the only thing that gives me some sort of comfort is that I very much believe volkner is nd and struggles with this a lot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

terrence-silver · 14 hours

Note

would you write something about reader who has baby fever but isn’t dating Terry, she works very closely with him, and he starts picking up how much she wants to have a baby

Fringe Benefits

Terry Silver x Reader

—

Each of his future employees got this questionnaire.

It was standard procedure, they said.

Basic inquiries, you supposed. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing you haven’t encountered before. Qualifications. Education level. Past recommendations. Experience level. Why you wanted to work here in particular. Why you considered yourself a reliable member of a team — specifically his team. Your devotion. Devotion, you thought. What did that even mean exactly? Your marital status. Family. Children. Whether you planned any. What you brought to Cobra Kai. To Cobra Kai’s table, that is. What you could offer. The memory of circling each response on the interview application still lingered in your mind like a hazy fog, more so when you sat opposite of him, separated by a black, sleek work desk, immaculately organized and entirely minimalist to a pristine level; something both disorienting and weirdly comforting about the basic aesthetic layout of the dojo gym grounds and the offices adjoined to it, all blue and red neons, creating a vaguely purple sense of womb-like dimness — Terry Silver’s eyes carefully assessing your application paper right before his gaze shot back up at you, speaking with immaculate distinction, yet with ease, like he wasn’t in a hurry whatsoever. You were merely after the job of a junior intern — a starting position; someone who handles basic paperwork, greets people at the registry, makes themselves useful wherever and however is required of them, still, everything felt like you were aiming after the most important position in the world. Perhaps due to the fact there was nobody here and the place felt liminal. Intense. Like you were given every bit of attention contained in the universe by a single person.

-"Most employers —"-

He begins.

-"They’d consider the responses you circled a professional shortcoming."-

He points his nose at the document next to his tidily clasped hands. You gulp.

-"Reason enough not to give you a job. Hire someone else instead."-

He explains maintaining near unblinking eye contact and part of you, that anxious bit coiling around in your belly was convinced this was a lost cause; he was about to gently tell you you’re not getting the job but that he nonetheless wishes you all the luck elsewhere. The deep sinking of your stomach interrupted only by the sudden tenderness in his features overcast by a crimson shadow of a halogen ceiling pipe above head; not an expression of pity, but one of possibility. His brows shoot up. This wasn’t standard procedure anymore, to your knowledge. The actual owner of a company conducting interviews so personally. One on one. Usually, it was a manager's manager. A secretary. Someone almost random in the hierarchy of things, giving off the basic impression that these job openings were merely formal and that the empty spots were long since filled and that everyone who came along to these interviews was going to be rejected anyway and they didn’t really care who does the rejecting so long the impression is given they’re actively searching for new staff. But, this guy? His personal investment in this almost daunted you. Was this some sort of marketing trick for his newly opening dojos? To make him seem relatable? Approachable? Humble enough to do this himself?

-"But, me? Cobra Kai?"-

Terry Silver’s stare flickers with delight.

-"I actually see it as a perk!"-

He smiles with a weird innocence, momentarily distracting you from the fact you still had no clue what part of your application elicited such a positive surprise in him. You supposed you just had to go ahead and ask. Something about him instilled a sense of amicable disposition in you.

-"What do you mean, sir?"-

Before the question even passes over the threshold of your mouth, his index finger extends forward, landing precisely on the circled answer about whether or not you plan on getting pregnant any time soon. Your eyes meet. -"Kids."- He’s suddenly serious, chewing that word like it was a morsel intended to be juiced. -”You want them.”- He adds flatly and you weren’t certain if it was an accusation, praise, a mere statement or something he wanted you to further explain yourself on. His finger holds your circled answer hostage, refusing to move from the paper’s surface. Holding it there so long you had ample time to notice the sapphire pinkie ring finger on his hand. -"Says it right here."- He further assesses and once again, it was so hard to read him. His meaning. If he was pleased by this or not. You choose the best policy to appease him regardless of his mood; by being centrist and entirely politically correct. Trying to say everything and nothing. You really needed this job. You didn’t want to flunk it just because your circled an application answer that implied that maybe, perhaps, just maybe, you’d have kids. -"Well, one day, yes. Sure. Not right now, but I’m leaving my options open for anything. Everything."- You shrug, going for honesty of the most inoffensive kind. He actually flashes you a smile full of teeth. His whole face smiling with him in a net of wrinkles. It hits you then that in spite of his age, he was quite handsome. In fact, his age enhanced him. Made him seem warm. Paternal. Well lived. -"Good."- He coos at you, content. -"Because we’re all about devotion here. Dedication. Working with young people. Investing in the future."- There it was. That slightly baffling word again. Devotion. You say nothing. Choosing to listen instead. Avoid weakening your chances here. The fringe benefits were quite stellar from what you’ve discovered. Amazing healthcare, for one. -"And someone who sees a major plus in having kids of their own? That’s exactly the type of people we need. Means they’re built from the right kind of stuff."- A flash of determination overtakes his features and for a moment, you see him grit his teeth. -"I see."- You fill the gap between dialogues with a filler line and he chuckles, somewhat amused, catching you doing it. This place. Disorienting in spite of the AC unit nowhere to be seen, yet you could feel the cool air blowing in from somewhere from within this state-of-the-art, hypermodern setting where every utility seemed tactically hidden.

-"Don’t you wanna know what kind of stuff the right kind is?"-

You catch a hint of teasing in his tone and you find yourself slightly embarrassed, nodding wordlessly.

Felt like a child examined in class.

-"The type who’s prepared to dedicate their life to something greater than themselves. A belief. A creed. A legacy."-

He enlightens you.

You could guess what the dojo’s philosophy more or less was in vague terms — it was a dojo, after all and the man in front of you was a triple black belt Sensei in his own right and a Vietnam war vet from what you’ve heard, but you weren’t here to lay down life and limb to larp The Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon with anyone. You just wanted to do paperwork for a decent salary with your employer imbued with the knowledge, that hey, he might have to organize paid maternity leave for you and find a replacement for you in case that ever actually happens. Figuratively, of course. You maintain a serious composure, feeling something you weren’t supposed to feel; scared. Curious. Interested. The fervor with which he spoke? You cross your legs underneath the table and you could swear, for the briefest of moments, Terry Silver’s eyelids flutter down, towards your seat, catching you do it. -"I’m not that impassioned, Mr. Silver. I’m sorry. I just don’t mind the idea of having children one day, in the near or distant future, when all the puzzle pieces fall into their place, if all the puzzle pieces fall into their place, and I’m willing to be transparent enough about it within the context of a work place environment so no surprises happen, is all. I’m not raising the next Spartan army, though. Hope that isn’t a disappointing answer."- You find yourself shrugging once more, this time on instinct, keeping calm, wondering why on earth you were justifying yourself so badly anyway. Sure, you did a basic Google search on this place. And on him. Terry Silver didn’t have any children of his own in the first place. No marriages under his belt either. You almost expected bigwigs like him to have several of each. You weren’t judging, you just felt it was peculiar. He was more than good looking too. So, why was this such a huge topic, anyway? Was this even allowed? He kept the questions about your qualifications to a minimal and then — he laughs, apparently delighted by your response.

-"Oh, not at all!"-

He shakes his head, blue eyes practically shimmering.

This felt like one of those weird dreams people tended to have; the type that were almost entirely inexplicable.

-"Cobra Kai isn’t going to let you go or terminate your contract or penalize you if anything unexpected happens. Not my policy. We take care of our own."-

The tension in your back drops hearing that, almost as if a certain weight was lifted from them.

For a man, Terry Silver was as understanding about maternity as a woman would be.

And then he cocks his head to the side.

-"Wouldn’t be very fair play and Spartan if we didn’t, would it?"-

Clearly, your comment entertained him enough for him to repeat it back to you, producing a new piece of document from a drawer and setting it down in front of you alongside a sleek, perfectly jet black pen. Everything here was black. His suit. His desk. His walls. His floors. His ceilings. You weren’t certain if there were any windows. Difficult to tell. Amidst all that neon lit darkness, the pristine white paper stands out, almost burning. A white block of ice. Matching his pale face and gray hair, briefly resembling a clay death mask. -"Just one last form to fill. Right here. Some final questions and you’re as good as set. Monday sound good?"- His finger points once again, down the dotted line, spilling out information so fast that it took you a second to register the fact he was effectively letting you know you got the job while you were too busy looking at what his finger was showing you on yet another questionnaire, your eyes falling on the first of many inquires. One in particular catching your notice, causing your breath to hitch.

- DO YOU TAKE BIRTH CONTROL?

—

You weren’t certain how you ended up in Terry Silver’s bed.3

All you knew is that you wanted to.

It was so easy.

Too easy.

It began with a deep yearning; observing a class for students between ages 3-5 five taking their first steps in Kata on the studio’s mat and Terry doing circles around the dojo, assessing their stances, their movements, how they held their tiny arms, their tiny bodies, the enthusiasm in their eyes. His voice was in your ear once he did a full spin throughout the length of his own domain, encompassing everything like a satellite, keen eyes missing nothing, finding himself next to you and your place at the counter, checking filled application forms and the schedule of classes, while fists punched through the air in unison. Exactly thirty two young students working like perfectly tuned clock work. Funny how kids that small could achieve such discipline. Your heart almost ached. -"Natural, raw talent. Gotta start when they’re young."- He chuckles from next to you, observing his handiwork from a relative distance, giving his small acolytes time to spread out. -"Don’t you just get emotional watching them train?"- His eyes dazzle your way, accompanied by a smile and something within your twists as you nod wordlessly, keeping your attention on your folders and files, suppressing the voice inside of you.

Yeah, wish I had my own, it says.

The months that ensue get harder. It was always the opposite for everyone else, you supposed. The more time they spend at a place of employment, the more the novelty wore off and things tended to settle into their place, but you? You grow restless, leaving the toilet having recovered from an unbidden fit of tears during your lunch break, possibly the second such concealed outburst within just one work week alone, finding no particular reason as to why it happened. Why it kept happening. Nobody was unkind to you here. Quite the contrary. Everyone was like a newfound friend or family, but maybe that’s what made things so difficult; the fact that when you went home every evening, you’d find yourself all alone with nobody to care for. You didn’t even have time to tend to a pet. A cat. A dog. And this wouldn’t be the only occasion he’s cornered you on the topic either. Terry Silver had this uncanny ability to decipher you as upset regardless how craftily you sought to hide it and continue with your work. -"I know what bothers you and I can help."- He corners you in the empty foyer. One thing you learned about him with certainty that he had this habit of invading people's personal spaces. Invading your personal space. Standing too close. The most baffling thing, though --- how much you didn't mind, even as you kept your head bent, gaze averted. You didn't want him to see how obvious it was that you cried even though were certain he guessed.

In spite of that, you fail to recoil once his hand lands on your stomach.

He's done this before. You've let him.

-"Fill the gap right there."-

He whispers and it sends a shiver down your spine.

He came with a proposition a few weeks ago and suddenly, all those peculiar inquires on the job interview questionnaire started to make an awful lot of sense. Too much, in fact. He wasn't just being nosy and scoping out whether or not you'd get impromptu pregnant and leave your own spot vacant for God knows how long. No. It was infinitely more than that. He told you that if you had an itch, he was lending himself available to scratch it. You still haven't given him a yes or no answer on the topic, though and by the looks of it, the devil has come to collect his dues. -"I’m sorry, Mr. Silver, I —"- You stutter, going for avoidance, trying to wiggle out from the closeness of his proximity, but his arm comes up leaning against the wall, cutting your way off. Already, in your mind, you could see tangled limbs, a spine bending forward and his fingers travelling up your back. Instead, you get a voice. His. You inhale sharply once his thumb came up, caressing the outline of your cheek, the slightest remnant of moisture dabbed again by his lingering touch. You weren't sure how to label your relationship with him. Terry had yet another uncanny gift. The ability to make himself disconcertingly close to someone with little to no effort. You've been fucking the man for three months now and god knows why. Why you craved it. Why it felt right. Confusing, but right. Letting your boss hit it raw? What do you even call that? Stupidity? Desire? Falling in love? Being manipulated? -"Ambition requires it’s sacrifices, doesn’t it? Even small, day-to-day ambitions. The ambitions of a Junior Intern. The sacrifice being family. The fact that I can tell there’s no place you’d rather be right now than at home with someone."- His touch touches your earlobe and you close your eyes.

You haven't been doing good lately.

He caught on.

Thing was, you weren't a girl anymore.

You were still young but you were entering that stage in life were every year mattered more and more. Your contract with Cobra Kai alone was one for two years and you imagined it expiring and you once again having nothing. Going home and finding your apartment empty. Would you have time to build something for yourself? Build anything at all? Instead, Terry Silver's arms were right there. Warm. Inviting. So hard to resist. Bearing the promise of everything you that seemed so close, yet so far out of reach.

-"You want me."-

He coos tenderly. You resist, shaking your head, refusing to open your eyes.

-"No."-

-"You want me."-

He repeats himself with more vigor. More conviction.

No. No. No!

-"This is crazy! I don’t wanna get knocked up at work by my boss who’s twenty years my senior!"-

Instinctively, your hands come up feebly, attempting to serve as a shield between your own body and his, only to get caught and trapped by his grip, fingers grabbing wrists, pulling you closer to him. His smile is shark-like. Sharp. -"Thirty."- He corrects with ease, seeming proud of himself. -"Thirty years your senior."- You didn't know what to say to that. Somehow, it made things worse. The guts inside of your belly tighten with ache. You feel it vibrate between your legs. It was hormones. All hormones, you tell yourself. Hormones had the habit of being senseless and dumb like that. Terry Silver was the one giving you your salary, he was old enough to be your grandfather and he was offering to get you pregnant. For your sake, as he claimed. For his own too. You wanted the same things, he explained. So, why not complete each other's long-standing yearnings? Wasn't that what loyalty was all about? What better foundation for an alliance? A relationship, he asked? Suddenly, he lifts his arm, freeing you. -"And why not? You can leave any time. You still haven't."- His eyes flare up with the light of challenge. You were being taunted and tested and you realized as much, finding your body growing stiff, legs refusing to move. So, why didn't you leave? This was technically sexual harassment at the workplace. Yet, you reveled in it. Consented to it. His offer was tantalizing, the way a cup of fresh spring water was to the someone dying of thirst. Your lips part. The thought of having someone completely your own. Cradling them in your arms. Was that so bad? Instead of your belly, the palm of his hand travels lower, cupping you between your legs. -"It would make you happy and you know it."- He murmurs and you didn't have the strength to fight it. You let him continue. He squeezes you ever so lightly, until you felt an internal pressure tickle you from the inside. The type that craved to be filled. -"And I told you the very first day you walked into my office. In Cobra Kai, we’re all about devotion. Taking care of of our own."- He reminds and you lean your head back, allowing yourself to enjoy the sensation, feeling the back of your neck comfortably hit the wall.

-"I didn’t think you’d be so literal!"-

You mutter, breathlessly, letting him do his special magic.

Rubbing you through the material of your trousers.

His cock in his other free hand, pulled out of the thick, black material of his Gi.

-"I’m always literal."-

He clarifies.

You knew as much now.

Knew well enough to take him seriously.

More seriously than anyone before.

You wanted him. Wanted him to knock you up. Crude, but truthful.

-"Let me help you."- He groans, unzipping your trousers, only to spread your legs, slither his hands behind you and grab you by your ass, lifting you up against the wall, fingers digging into tender flesh with bruising ardor. You moan and yelp. Maybe it was you being touch starved, starved for love, in need of sex, missing companionship, but the fact you were about to impale yourself on his cock in the middle of the corridor seemed of little consequence. It was a Friday evening. Past working hours. -"Let me fix everything. All you have to do is be willing to receive it. Receive me."- Terry speaks against your open mouth and you mumble into his, already seeing the future unfold. Feeling it on his breath. The warmth of his tongue. -"I'm willing."- You babble, eyes half-lidded, fumbling with the elastic lace trim of your undergarment, lowering it, giving him entry, feeling yourself wet. -"What was that?"- He teases, tone beaming seriousness, asking you repeat yourself. You do. Anything. You'd do anything. Funny how quickly a person could go from being level-headed and logical to throwing all caution to the wind, you thought. -"I'm willing to receive it."- You almost plead. He pulls back. Momentarily, the warm haze he emanated was lost and you find craving it. Craving it back like nothing you've ever craved before. You could see it so clearly now. His hand tracing the outline of your swollen belly, smiling down at you and unwittingly, your mouth moves with a will of its own. -"Sir."- Terry instructs, unblinking, his cock stroking itself against the lips of your cunt. -"Sir."- You eagerly mimic his words, ready to devour the very air you shared, the distance between you nonexistent. -"You know how some schmucks out there claim they know the exact moment of conception?"- Terry chuckles in between wet kisses, his tip finding it's way between your Labia guided by his hand. You're sloppy, loose and ready for him. -"Well, I always thought that's a load of crap."- He adds, grunting once he nestles himself inside of you, driving you further up the wall, your legs flying up, on either side of his shoulders, held by one free arm. It was astounding how he could expertly hold his balance and your own too and not falter.

He picks up his pace and for once, you smile.

Never in a million years would you think Cobra Kai's workplace contractual fringe benefits would involve this.

-"I just plan to fuck you until I see some tangible results."-

He seethes and now there was a plan you could agree with.

#terry silver #kk3 #cobra kai #old man terry #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #tw; breeding kink #tw; baby fever

23 notes · View notes

volknersraichu · 9 months

Text

I feel like I’m in this constant cycle of trying to recover from autistic burnout but then everyone gets sick of me not contributing to society so I have to force myself to do things which inevitably leads me back to square one

#the only thing that gives me some sort of comfort is that I very much believe volkner is nd and struggles with this a lot #he’s my silly comfort man #I fed my cats and now I need a huge ass nap #rat.txt #I just want to draw but I have no energy #I would cry about it but I don’t think I’m physically able to do so

9 notes · View notes

dazais-guardian-angel · 2 months

Text

went to my first con in 4 years on Friday to meet Kaiji Tang and got a Dazai autograph + video recording of him reading to me. He was the sweetest person (as I knew he would be) and interacting with him was lovely, but also at the same time oh boy it sure was an extremely stressful, ugly wake-up call of what it feels like to live in a world now where everyone around you has blissfully moved on from covid and can enjoy things normally and happily, while you'll forever be trapped in a hellscape of perpetual fear 🫠🫠🫠

#like. to be clear this was the first time i've been literally anywhere but doctor's appointments in 4 years #not just because of the pandemic but because of mental and physical exhaustion #so it was a Big Mistake to go from 0 to 100 and not ease myself into it at all #but at the same time........ it was a fucking hellscape of people. i don't think any kind of buildup could have prepared me for it at all.#it was so much less crowded in 2020 (ironically the very last place i ever went; literally on the BRINK of covid)#and now idk what it's become. a monster con. it was unbelievable.#but i was only there for less than an hour but i was so so so terrified that i very nearly left before even seeing him #i couldn't even fully enjoy meeting him as kind as he was because i was so anxious and distracted #and when i got back to the car i just fucking cried.........#the last five days i've just been sitting in fear waiting to feel Any sort of symptoms #i wore two masks and again was barely there for long but Still #and everyone around me was so chill as if everything was normal and No One was wearing a mask :))))) it's not fucking fair man :)))))#insert the 'they don't know' meme; they don't know how much covid can destroy your body even if you get a 'mild' case #i would never want to be that ignorant even if i wasn't disabled and didn't have reason to worry (but everyone has reason to worry!!!)#but also. ignorance is bliss and it just really fucking sucks man.#it really fucking sucks. why do they get to be happy and enjoying life and not /me?/#why can't i do just ONE thing for myself without having it tainted by anxiety and fear that i'm going to die horribly???#while they get to do fucking EVERYTHING???#if they all just wore masks we could all enjoy ourselves much more comfortably than some of us are now #but no that's too much to ask from people 🙃🙃🙃#shit sucks man. the world sucks. something that should be a happy memory for me was simultaneously the most awful experience #and i don't know how to feel about it now that it's over #he knew that i was afraid and at the end he told me that he hoped to see me again at another event someday #and that made me cry because it felt like dazai telling me to live. and i want to. but i don't know how to when the world is like this now.#i desperately want to be able to see him again someday but right now after how terrifying that was i never want to go to a con ever again..#i wanted to ask him things about the manga and about dazai but i was being rushed and stressed so i couldn't ugh #(and doing that is hard enough anyway cause disability and i have to talk with my phone bahhhh)#at least i was able to give him my note *sigh*

3 notes · View notes

twilit-creature · 8 months

Text

Release me

Release me from thi

From

From this

From t

From th

Release me

#moon doodles #venting #<- idk anymore #no tags #I am so fucking done #its not 13h +- not being at home and having time for myself #its the place and the people themselves that make me so very miserable when i even just so dare and think of the nicest person i met there #i dont want to be amongst these people #i dont want to be there #having to act so much like a NT totally not mentally ill human being hurts me more than anything #and I am being so genuine about this #playing pretend for 5 days a week for that long just hurts #Whether its by listening to conversations in the office canteen or else where I have heard so much bigoted and ignorant shit #all of them have houses and some even multiple cars and everyone reeks of so much privilege #let me go back home into the void I should not be subjected to this #at least give me a workplace where i dont have to fear being outcasted and ostracized for slightly expressing myself #literally the only thing giving me any sort of will to keep going there is Sil #the only sort of comfort in this utter bullcrap #the only one that makes me feel like i have just a little freedom left in this situation

1 note · View note

whomturgled · 1 year

Text

yrkeby4ur8

#hi its personal post as tho tumblr is my diary in the tags while still being vague time bc my coping strats are failing me a little and #ig being able to essentially shout into the void is kinda nice like i cld physically write things down but i did a lot of that #already today w sssitnments and my fjfknging joints hurt so here we are!#ig theres also comfort in knowing someone somewhere probably read it. regardless of what they think/feel/the impression it gives them bc.#like. i exist! i guess? idk.#anyway that being said tw for talk of sh and upsettio spaghettio n stuff.#but yeah im like 🤏 close to relapsing with cutting or some sort of. idek.#and the only reasons im resisting are like. its been so long and itd be a shame to break that streak #which funnily enohgh mskes another part of me wana do it MoRE to like. idk. remember. and. punish ?? idk.#but we're ignoring him rn hes being a little too edgy.#and then bc it would feel like im being manipulative and ik if ppl find out they would probably be very . distressed.#and if it were me and i found out i know id be incredibly distressed and maybe a little scared and just knowing other ppl like it just #would not help the situation ykwim itd probably make things worse #also kinda too tired physically emotionally etc rn to do it and go thru it and the aftermath and having to clean up and take care and #trust myself to be. safe. enough. abt it.#but. now hear me out. IF i do it somewhere that isnt super obv or visible. i doubt theyll know anytime soon.#and if things go. in a way thats.. i dont think i can cope with then well ill prob end up right back in this feeling without the like #withstraint of someone who cares and wants to care abt themselves and others and want to control themself and behaviours and health #but that thought in itself feels manipulative bc its like saying either way i wld prob do it teehee like a threat but. its. oeurghgnnfd.#i just. am struggling to cope. i feel things. so much. and. hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh #i think if i have made it this far for this long i will be able to keep going without resorting to that?#but i really do hate that its like. wld be. yeah like turbo bad.#a very small and fucked up part of me feels like if things do go bad then what does it even matter and even better if whoever were to know #that i HAD relapsed bc ig at that point its like. idc who is upset or disappointed or uncomf or scared of/for me and thinks im terrible bc #at that point like. things are all. tumbling (lol) snd messed up so if i am messed up then whatever! ig. ????#but umm. yeah. idk i guess im just frustrated with my own . caring abt being responsible and stuff #there was a time when i was not as likely to be able to resist consequences be damned #im like over here going thru the stages of grief on god fr fr no cap on the stack or whatever ppl say #in other brighter news i managed to get a bit of work done on one of my assignments and some needed friend time but wasnt actually able to

1 note · View note

noxtivagus · 1 year

Text

i'll just ramble a bit again in tags ><

#🌙.rambles #🌙.vents #YEAH I DON'T THINK I SLEPT VERY WELL 💀#i rlly do hate being negative like this here i'll fix it sometime during the break but i'll cope rq by doing this before i do yeah #i'm v aware of how being negative affects others 😭 but like oh man it rlly isn't good to bottle things up either but #i don't really have anyone that i can vent to? i mean. i don't want to when i know that others have their own struggles too #i'd much rather listen to them. i'm fine on my own i just need to write it i think. so tumblr tags ily i'll fix my spam account soon fr #i write a lot to myself i talk to myself yeah i barely talk to others as much as i talk to myself. dumping someway somehow in #a place that only. those who rlly want to or seek to read this in some way wld know of the things i write. an interesting thought #i guess one way of putting it as well is i'm like the ocean. or the sky; which is. quite like an ocean too. with its depth #i mean i really just want to be authentic n myself but some experiences that hurt me stuck this sort of.. idk smth in me still that #subconsciously there's always this barrier there's always this. yeah. so one of my idk one of the things i struggle with is #do you know the real me? the me that you know that you like /p is it idealized? is it just the things i've done for you or #the image you have of me that you.. yeah? i hate that doubt bcs i do want to believe n when i do i. cry bcs that means a lot to me #I'M RAMBLING. hdfjaslkdfj :c i mean i'm human too n i'm not immune to doubt sob ffxiv has that one quote w minfilia that. rlly gives me hop #i grew up feeling lonely often despite still having friends. acceptance.. i relate to hermes a lot fr :c #i think i'm more honest here on tumblr than directly w others. yeah definitely. i'm more of a listener w others #oh god fr i think i feel especially helpless inside bcs there's sm things that just feel so similar to a certain time in my life i've #buried a bit. i genuinely don't remember the last few months of 2020 n early 2021 well at all i distracted myself from. certain stuff #listening to vg osts is such a comfort rn oh man. living legacy. don't think twice. radical dreamers. kiss me good-bye 🥹#i was gna write smth but i forgot. oh well i shld finish this article critique anyways so i'll work on that now

0 notes

mimi-cee-genshin · 1 year

Text

Friend-zoned? - Alhaitham x f!reader

Summary: How many Akademiya guys does it take to figure out whether or not you've friend-zoned Alhaitham? After discussing how strong he is, Kaveh, Cyno and Tighnari analyze his relationship with you. Things get interesting when you join their table.

Other info: fluff and humor :D, female reader, my extension of the conversation in Alhaitham's character demo because I loved the guys' interactions there so much

Words: 2.7k

*****

"Essentially, more time on contemplation, less time on execution," Alhaitham tells them. "Simple, isn't it?"

"... Not really," Tighnari and Cyno reply.

"Ugh, I knew I shouldn't have brought this up with you," Kaveh complains.

"I thought my answer was quite engrossing," Alhaitham says. He raises his hand. "Boss, this is good wine. I'll have the same please."

Kaveh swirls his cup. "Well, he has at least one weakness," he comments.

"Do tell," Cyno says.

"He's had the same crush for years," Kaveh tells them. "The guy's completely smitten."

"You can't be serious," says Cyno.

"Why is that so surprising?" Alhaitham says. "It makes less sense that I wouldn't be attracted to her."

"See what I mean?" says Kaveh. "You should see how he is around her. He practically treats her like a queen."

"I have a hard time believing that," Cyno says, crossing his arms.

"Stop exaggerating," Alhaitham tells Kaveh. "I just treat her the way she should be treated."

Kaveh only laughs at his answer.

"I thought you didn't like social interaction," says Cyno. "Or had any friends for that matter."

"It's not tiring to be around her," he says. "She's different."

"Of course she is," says Kaveh.

"Well this is interesting," says Tighnari. "What is she like?"

"We've known each other since we were kids. She was mature for her age. She did things like helping me resolve issues I had with others to keep the peace, making sure other kids didn't bother me while I was reading… Also, comforting me whenever I got discouraged…"

"You? Discouraged?" Kaveh scoffs.

"Yes? I'm only human you know," Alhaitham simply replies. "Anyway, you get the picture."

"That seems reasonable," says Tighnari.

"So it's one-sided?" Cyno asks. "As far as I can tell, you're still single."

"No," says Alhaitham, crossing his arms. "It's not one-sided."

"You're kidding me, right?" Kaveh says. "Are we even talking about the same person?"

Tighnari raises a brow.

"Every time she introduces him to another woman, she's a little too obvious with sharing why they'd be good for Alhaitham," Kaveh explains, "as if she's trying to sell them off to him."

"Don't be so dramatic," Alhaitham says. "She's not selling anyone."

"If that's the case, then why are you sure she likes you?" asks Cyno.

"Well for one, she comes by often to check how I'm doing."

"Perhaps she simply thinks you're incompetent at your job," Kaveh chides.

"Two," he continues, ignoring him. "She's always willing to hear about the latest book I'm reading, no matter how boring others think of it."

"Hmm…" Tighnari mumbles. "I can understand that."

"And three…" Alhaitham puts down his cup. "Whenever she reaches out for my hand, like when she wants to comfort me, she stops short of actually holding it."

"She does?" asks Kaveh.

"Interesting. So it seems that while she does display some sort of affection for you," says Tighnari, "perhaps she just didn't want you to get the wrong idea."

"So you're doubting my conclusion?"

"I'm simply saying it's difficult to judge based on the evidence you've provided. We may need to observe the two of you for ourselves."

Alhaitham sighs. This isn't going anywhere.

"Does she have any reason to not want to date you?" Cyno asks. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were overly critical of her, commenting on her every action."

"I give her nothing but compliments. She knows I think very highly of her."

"Huh," Tighnari says. "That's quite unexpected."

"I've been telling you guys," Kaveh says, "but he's really something else around her."

"Is she… actually older than you by any chance?" asks Tighnari.

"She is."

"Hmm… Well this changes things. Perhaps, she still sees you as a kid and is simply just doting on you."

Kaveh turns to Alhaitham, eagerly waiting for his reply.

Alhaitham clears his throat. "She's less than a couple of years older than me. It's not a big deal."

"Just admit that you're friend-zoned," says Kaveh. "Who'd treat their love interest like a kid?"

"I'm not so sure…" Cyno says.

Both Kaveh and Tighnari raise a brow.

"I think that Alhaitham has a clearer picture and can judge more accurately than any of us. They've known each other for long enough."

"It's just his wishful thinking on his part," says Kaveh. "Who wouldn't want to read into their crush's actions?"

"I agree to an extent," says Tighnari, "but perhaps we're missing some crucial information here. We don't know how well Alhaitham can judge a person's actions when romantic feelings are involved."

"I'm thinking quite clearly, thanks," Alhaitham says.

"This is why you aren't getting anywhere," Kaveh scolds him. "You're assuming she has feelings for you when she doesn't. You still need to win her over."

"Then what do you suggest I do?" Alhaitham crosses his arms.

"Ha. As if I'd help you. She could do way better than you anyway."

Alhaitham groans. Why is he even part of this conversation?

"Well, have you ever told her how you felt?" asks Cyno.

"Of course," replies Alhaitham. "I'm pretty obvious about it."

"For someone as reserved as you, I highly doubt that," Cyno adds.

"I wrote her a letter, eloquently expressing my love for her."

"Pfft. What?" Kaveh snorts.

Tighnari stares in disbelief. "Oh. I get it. You did that when you were children."

"I'm referring to the one I gave her yesterday."

"Pfft."

"That's… pretty obvious," Tighnari adds.

"I bet it was more of an essay than a love letter," Kaveh says with a smirk.

"Well, in that case, she either doesn't like you," says Tighnari, "or there's something that prevents her from admitting her feelings."

"Perhaps she's intimidated by your position," suggests Cyno.

"It's unlike her to care about those things," Alhaitham says. "She even treats me like a kid at times."

"So you do admit she just thinks of you as a kid," Kaveh says.

Alhaitham doesn't answer.

"Honestly, this case is closed," Kaveh continues. "There's nothing more to it."

"Hmm... Have you tried to make her jealous?" asks Cyno.

"You're still not convinced?" Kaveh is surprised at him.

"Knowing the result of that would likely draw us closer to a conclusion," Tighnari adds.

"Why would I purposely try to hurt her?" asks Alhaitham.

They exchange glances. Alhaitham still had the ability to make them go speechless with his matter-of-fact tone.

"Well, he's definitely serious about her," says Cyno.

"I told you," Kaveh says. "Seems like she's the only person he'd open up to as well."

"Of course she is," Alhaitham replies.

"I wonder…" says Tighnari. "Has she ever shared her own struggles with you?"

"Why would that be a factor?"

"Well, that would display how comfortable she is around you."

"Hmm… Not bad…" Alhaitham seems to agree with his line of reasoning.

He goes quiet and uncomfortably so because the other three exchange awkward glances at each other in the meantime.

"Well?" Cyno breaks the silence.

"You may be right," Alhaitham tells Tighnari with a sigh. "But that certainly raises more questions."

"Can we just start playing Genius Invokation TCG?" asks Kaveh. "We just keep going in circles with this topic."

"So you guys did just drag me out to play cards," says Alhaitham.

"It would be interesting to meet her," says Tighnari. "It's gotten me curious."

"Same here," says Cyno.

Kaveh looks up at the tavern entrance. "Huh? She's actually here."

Alhaitham's eyes flicker open for a brief moment. "Nice try. I'm not falling for that."

"I didn't expect to see you here, Alhaitham," you say, ruffling his hair.

He freezes and the three of them take a closer look at his face.

"I never expected him to have that kind of expression," whispers Tighnari.

"Me neither," Cyno agrees.

Alhaitham clears his throat. "They simply invited me here for some cards," he tells you. "Nothing more."

"Can I join?" you ask.

Without question, Alhaitham gets up from his chair. He holds the back of his seat and slides it out, gesturing for you to take it.

Cyno and Tighnari widen their eyes.

"Is it just me or did that feel kind of odd?" says Tighnari.

"Coming from him? You're not wrong there," adds Cyno.

You hesitate for a moment before you accept his kindness and take his seat. He stands next to you, waiting for the other guys to start preparing the game.

The two onlookers feel slightly uncomfortable for some reason while Kaveh tells them another round of 'I-told-you-so's. There isn't anything out of the ordinary as you all take your turns playing each other. Cyno is intense as usual, not just with his tactics but also with how he approaches the battle like an interrogation. Tighnari was calm and collected even under pressure, and Kaveh spoke his mind with every move, regardless of whether it's his or his opponent's. But having you there with Alhaitham is… strange.

Nothing really happens of significance. The two of you treat each other well and with respect. Just having Alhaitham being a complete gentleman around you is unnerving for the rest of them. Curt responses and sarcastic remarks are absent. He's completely agreeable with you and his usual temper isn't there either. Everyone plays the game in peace.

"You should save that card for later," Alhaitham tells you. "He can't do anything for the rest of the round anyway."

"Hmm… I'm not quite sure if that's what I want to do yet," you respond.

"Alright," he says. "You should do what you think is best."

"This guy…" Kaveh turns to you. "How do you get him to be like that? If it were any of us, he would've scolded us with a lengthy explanation about how we'd lose if we didn't follow his exact instructions."

"What? She can think for herself."

"And none of us can't?"

"I'm already familiar with how the three of you play and where you go wrong. I want to see if she does anything differently."

"It seems that he really does only compliment you, huh?" Tighnari tells you.

"Why would I do otherwise?" Alhaitham states.

His straightforward remark stuns them once again.

"Okay, we get it," says Kaveh. "We all know about your huge crush on her."

"Seems like you can't say anything bad about her even if you try," Cyno comments.

"Of course I can."

"You can?" you ask.

The whole table looks at you funny. You fiddle with the cards in your hand, pretending you weren't shocked for a split second.

"Interesting," says Cyno.

Alhaitham crosses his arms. "What is it?"

"I'm keeping my observations to myself for now."

Alhaitham raises a brow, but lets it go for the meantime.

A few rounds go by and you help set up for the next. When Alhaitham picks up a die for you from the floor, your hand brushes against his and the die falls off the table once more.

"What's wrong?" Alhaitham asks as he picks up the die again. "You're not usually this clumsy."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with me," you say.

He takes a closer look at you and you avoid his eyes. "Alright," he says. "You still ready to play?"

"I'll need to head out soon," Tighnari says. "It's my turn to be on patrol for tonight."

"Hold on," Cyno says, placing his cards on the table. "One last round. I'll be your opponent this time," he tells you.

You finish setting up the game and test your skills against Cyno. He certainly doesn't make it easy for you. You fall behind pretty quickly, but at least he's not as intimidating as when he played with some of the others.

"So," Cyno says, "what do you think of Alhaitham?"

Your eyes widen at his sudden question.

"You're straight up asking her?" says Kaveh.

"Why not?"

"I guess he has a point," says Tighnari.

They turn their attention to you to see what you'd say.

"Well…" you say, "he's very intelligent and talented."

"No, not what everyone else says," says Cyno. "What you think."

"What do you think you're doing?" asks Alhaitham. "Are you interrogating her right now?"

"Just let her answer the question."

"Well…" you say, "he's nice? And sweet?"

Cyno raises a brow.

"He's cute?"

"Pfft." Kaveh holds in his laughter.

Cyno ignores him and presses the question.

"I don't know how to respond," you tell him. "We've known each other for so long I can't just sum it up in a sentence."

"Alright. I'll get straight to the point," says Cyno. "What do you think of Alhaitham's feelings for you?"

"I think he should get to know other people… and try dating someone else?"

"See?" says Kaveh.

"I've already told you I'm not interested in anyone else," Alhaitham says.

"No, you should listen to her answer," Cyno tells him. "She's not lying."

"What?" Alhaitham widens his eyes.

"I'm not done yet," says Cyno. "There's more." He turns to you. "How serious do you think Alhaitham is about you?"

"He's definitely sincere."

"I'm pretty sure that was obvious," says Tighnari.

"But you don't take his feelings seriously," Cyno tells you.

"It's not that. It's just…"

"You don't?" asks Alhaitham.

"Alright. It's your turn from here," Cyno tells him.

"But I thought I was clear," Alhaitham tells you.

"You were."

"Apparently not clear enough."

"Look. You used to follow me around like a duckling whenever you weren't reading a book," you tell him. "How was I supposed to take your crush on me seriously?"

"It's been more than a decade since then."

"I... Okay, fair enough," you concede. "But it would disappear once you learned I didn't live up to your expectations."

"What expectations?" Alhaitham raises his brow.

"I don't know. That I'm this perfect woman that you've been pining for more than half your life. You'd know I'm not so great if you'd actually try liking someone else."

"Is that what you've been telling yourself?"

"You never say anything bad about me."

"Why would I want to talk about your flaws? Especially when I've been trying to win you over," he says. "Besides, aren't they obvious to you?"

"What?" You're genuinely surprised. "Like what?"

"Like how stupid you're being right now."

You freeze.

"Besides, I've been around you long enough," Alhaitham continues. "There's plenty I don't like. Like the way you cut me off at times–"

"What?"

"–or your atrocious style–"

"Okay, that one hurt a bit–"

"–or how stupid do you have to be to keep asking Kaveh for money –"

"Alright. I get it."

"–or that time you–"

"Okay! I get it! You like me!"

Kaveh looks at you as if you've grown another head. "How did you come to that conclusion? Are we even listening to the same conversation?"

"I think she's finally realized that his feelings were deeper than she initially thought," says Tighnari. "Especially since she knows that Alhaitham is still objective with her and not blinded with infatuation."

"That's right," Cyno says. "She's been the exception to his behavior for a long time. It makes sense she would think his judgment would be clouded with the information she had."

You hide your face from them. It's embarrassing how they read you like a book once your guard was down.

"I didn't expect the solution to be so simple," Alhaitham says.

He slips his hand into yours and you let out a little squeak. "You've also been wanting to hold my hand for some time haven't you?"

"Ugh. You're all smug now because you know that I return your feelings."

"I also don't like how you rearranged my bookcase."

"You can stop now."

"I think it's time for us to go," says Cyno.

"But we haven't finished our match yet," you tell him.

"I'll just forfeit this one."

"I'm with you on that," says Kaveh. "Anything before they start being gross with each other."

"I guess this is a good time for me to head out as well," says Tighnari.

The two of you are suddenly left alone at the table with a bunch of dice in front of you.

"Well, that's one way to win a match," Alhaitham tells you. "I'd say it's pretty ingenious actually."

You simply groan. You know what's coming.

"Do you want me to help you win every time?"

"Please don't."

*****

I hope you liked it. :)

This is one of those fics I wish had inline commenting like on Wattpad. I would've loved to see how everyone reacted at certain parts in real time but unfortunately Tumblr doesn't have that.

Anyway, you can find links to my masterlist and taglist on my pinned post if you want to check out more of my writing.

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham scenarios #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin scenarios #genshin x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact fanfics #genshin fluff #cyno #tighnari #kaveh

7K notes · View notes

the-modern-typewriter · 1 month

Note

Can i get an immortal villain×mortal hero please please please🥺

I'll give you my croissants 🥐🥐🥐

"How would you like to die?" the villain asked. Their eyes were closed where they sat upon a park bench, head tipped back to the cool breeze and the clear blue sky.

The hero stopped, a little uncertain, but not exactly startled.

"I've tried every kind of death," the villain said. "I can make a recommendation if you prefer."

"I'm not going to die."

The villain's lips twisted - a smile, of sorts. "All mortals die. It is the linchpin of their condition."

"I won't die because of you."

The villain's smile broadened. "Drowning, perhaps. Or maybe suffocation. I don't want to disturb the ducks."

"Why those in particular?"

The villain finally deigned to open their eyes at the question, considering the hero where they stood. The hero couldn't quite read the villain's expression, but their voice remained casual. "Everyone always thinks they can survive those ones. If they just thrash, just fight, hard enough. Then they go very still and very quiet when they realise they can't. You have time to realise what's going to happen to you, see."

"Nice to see you at least put thought into your craft."

"What can I say, I'm a sweetheart. You only get one death."

"But you don't."

"You've done some research. Not enough," the villain added, tipping their head, "seeing as you're still standing there talking to me. But some. Kudos. I guess we'll see if you're brave or stupid."

"I'm not trying to kill you."

"Contain me. Incapacitate me." The villain waved a dismissive hand. "You might save your generation, perhaps, if you get lucky. Are you feeling lucky?"

"I'm not trying to do that either."

"Oh?" The villain sat up a little, finally tuning in properly to the conversation. "Are you not a hero? You dress like one."

"I'm hoping to find a more peaceful, effective solution."

The villain slumped, bored, again. "Mm. This should be good."

"Because I have done my research," the hero said, taking another step closer. "You're immortal. You only kill people when they attack you or are in the way of you wanting something."

"As I said, I'm a sweetheart and a saint."

The hero's jaw tightened. The villain had slaughtered thousands across the decades after all. They were many things, and had lived many lives, but in none of them had they ever been a sweetheart or a saint.

"And what you want most," the hero ploughed on, "other than your comfortable life, is not to be bored. There's no end, after all. So you need distraction. Diversion. Something to make time a little less of of a prison."

The villain was silent for a long moment, watching the hero. "I take it back," they said, finally. "I'm going to drive a knife through your ribs. Nice and slow. You know it's much harder to die from a stab wound than people think? Often it's the blood loss that gets ya."

"And then what?"

The villain shrugged. "Feed the ducks. Go back to my book. Make Christmas lights out of your bones. The possibilities are endless!"

"Sounds lonely."

"You think you're the first to try this, don't you?"

"I think you haven't met me before."

"Maybe I will entertain myself with you," the villain said. "Maybe I'll destroy your life and the live of everyone you talk to from now on. That could be fun. It's been a while since I've been so personal a devil."

Despite themselves, the hero swallowed. Despite their resolve, they considered walking away. Just for a moment.

The villain pushed to their feet, tossing their paperback carelessly aside.

The hero squared their shoulders. They felt their suddenly-fragile feeling heart begin to race. They let the villain stop in front of them, they tried not to let out a desperate shudder as the villain's fingers wrapped around their throat.

"Pick an option," the villain said, caressing their pulse. "Lose air. Lose blood. Or lose everything, but get a few more years before you go. If you ask really nicely, I might even make it quick. "

The hero shifted. They passed through the villain's fingers as if it were nothing, as if the villain were nothing. A ghost. Untouchable.

When the villain turned, the hero sat on the bench the villain had vacated. They made a show of picking up the villain's book, willing their once-more solid fingers not to tremble.

The villain raised an eyebrow. "Phasing. Cute."

"I don't age when I'm in ghost mode. Any injuries I have heal. If someone kills me, I stay dead, presumably. I'm mortal, as you say, but..."

"Hard to kill."

"Hardest you'll find. Or does the challenge scare you?"

"Determined little martyr, aren't you?"

"Not like you have anything to lose experimenting. You have all the time in the world."

"You realise I don't have to honour any deal now that you've revealed your hand? I could just hunt you and continue hurting other people, especially now I know how much it bothers me."

"I'll disappear."

"I have all the time in the world. I'd find you eventually."

"I guess then I'd just vanish again, if you don't want to play ball."

"You really are just the cutest, aren't you?"

"Is that a yes?"

"Maybe." The villain held out a hand for their book. "I haven't decided. Buy me lunch. See if you can keep my interest for more than five minutes."

"Lunch."

"There's a new cafe I haven't tried. Apparently they make their own croissants."

"You want to go to lunch with me?"

"No, I want to go to lunch. All this talk of bloodshed is giving me the munchies! But I'm assuming you're currently planning to haunt me, so you may as well pay. Unless you want me to just...kill anyone who tries to charge me."

"No! No."

"That's what I thought. Great minds."

The hero pushed to their feet, as the villain had, tentatively offering them their book back. They weren't entirely sure if that encounter had gone well or not.

The villain smiled, full of teeth, eyes gleaming.

"For your sake, little hero, do try not to be boring."

And, so, they went for lunch.

#heroes and villains #villains and heroes #immortal villain #writing #villains #fiction #immortality #writing snippet #story snippet #writeblr

604 notes · View notes

livingformintyoongi · 17 days

Text

BTS fic recs

I wanted to do this a while ago, but felt like I hadn't read enough, until I checked my likes and got a shock to the face lol. I wanted to give some recommendations of some fics (and a series) that I quite enjoyed reading, plus leave a small review because I feel like it's very underrated to comment on what you like something (people, comment more, I swear it makes a writer feel so much better than a like). There's the occasional spoiler in the reviews, so I recommend you read it carefully or just skip the comment ^^.

Dawning by @wintaerbaer JJK

summary: He’s never invited into your world during these late night sessions. You always push him away or ignore him. This is new. warnings: heavy depictions of depression and panic attacks, a brief line where taehyung worries oc is s**cidal. I really loved this fic. For a moment I thought it was some kind of two shot or something, but it only has this one part. Still, I felt the author captured the emotions very well. It felt so realistic that even I was worried when Y/N disappeared lol.

Bottle up old love by @wintaerbaer KTH

summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep. warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming. This fic made me remember why I love the exes to lovers trope. I loved seeing Jungkook as a tattoo artist, it's like, I don't know, so him, anyway, I loved it. I just found this account yesterday in the wee hours of the morning and I'm already loving it <3.

Cat-astrophe & Cat-enaries by @dumpywrites MYG

Summary: Your pet cat keeps going to your neighbor’s apartment and it’s a problem. I fell in love with this Yoongi like you have no idea. When I just read the first part I was so eager to keep reading, seriously, I loved it, it deserves so much love.

Two Days by @dumpywrites JJK

Summary: He just wants you to give him two days. He'll take you on a few dates and you'll decided if you actually like him? Or not? I live for Jungkook being simp of the reader, I feel it's so real lol. This fic made me feel so warm inside, it was too cute to read. It's kind of like my comfort fic.

S'more than friends by @borathae MYG

Warnings: subby!Yoongi, switchy!Reader, consumption of beer, so much awkward tension, jealousy, sex in a tent, mutual masturbation, handjob, fingering, making out aye, Yoongi loves her boobs and she loves his butt it’s a win-win, sex while other people are sleeping, public sex, she has a thing for his hands (but what’s new lmao), fluffy post-orgasm talks because I’m soft. I read it a while ago now, but I remember when I did I felt so soft. This Yoongi is just too cute.

Please don't go by @httpjungkookcom JJK

Summary | Jungkook’s never kept anything from you, ever. Not even the time where he tripped and accidentally kicked your dog, or when he fucked the most popular girl in high school and couldn’t make himself cum (poor guy was embarrassed for weeks), or when he accidentally rubbed all of his acceptance letters in your face without realizing. To put it short, Jungkook is an open book to you. So when he suddenly disappears, there’s a lot to question. Even more to question when he finally gets back and won’t tell you anything, going as far to avoid you. You’re on a mission to figure it out, even if it kills you. Index | Jungkook is so smart, but so stupid at the same time. Jungkook is not sly in the slightest. Kind of angst, fighting, arguing, bickering, etc. Criminal activity, it’s a Spider-Man fic. Injuries and mention of blood. College setting and age, reader and Kook share the same major. Some cute fluffy moments in between all of the action. Aunt Yoon is essentially Aunt May in the Marvel story line. Spiderkook, is more needed to read this fic? It was the first one I read about this au and I was WONDERED. God, you can't imagine how much I loved it. I thought it was so cute the way Jk approached reader being in his suit….

Accidental roommates by @jjkeverlast JJK

summary: moving apartments is stressful and difficult enough as it is. all the planning and packing and multiple moments of rearranging furniture; all you crave is peace. yet it seemed like peace was far within reach as the owner of the apartment had left out one tiny crucial detail from the ad — a ripped tattooed adonis, coupled, with a tiny baby daughter will come as your roommate. warnings: second hand embarrassment | jungkook's abs | annoying antics | suppressed feelings | both of them are stubborn and petty (it's gets tiring lmfao) | mentions of past relationships | a lot of time stamps | sexual tension | ft. namjoon 👀 | !constant change of perspective between reader and jungkook. I have a tremendous weakness with dilf, no matter who it is, I just love them. I think this was the first one I read by Jungkook. It was so fun and easy to read that the 14.7k words flew by for me.

Silk & Stones by @taegularities KTH

Summary: “Taehyung was a writer… he was a writer indeed.” Kim Taehyung knows his way around words – they cast a spell on your heart and mind, leave you gasping dangerously fast. Until the mystery behind his persona unveils and his touch, along with his words, becomes a vivid memory. warnings: writer + violinist tae 🥺 who’s a gentleman in the 19th century, brief mention of injuries/a mental institution, misunderstandings, heartbreak, secrets, grief, much poetry (and my attempt at writing a poem, pls spot), much disgoosting fluff, flirting and lots of sexual tension; explicit sexual content: 2 sex(y) scenes, fingering on a boat, choking, teasing, begging, praising, soft dom!tae, big dick!tae, tiddie fondling/sucking, some manhandling, dirty talk, they’re just so cute :((, oral (f. and m. receiving), some masturbation, oc is into neck kisses, some biting, fingering, hair pulling, asking for permission :(, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (it’s the 19th century...), aftercare; there’s quite some angst ok; lmk if i forgot smth !! This was a work of art for me. I felt so immersed in the story, so confused by the time changes and everything surrounding Taehyung, but I loved it, one of the best stories I've read of Taehyung since I joined tumblr.

17 going on 27 by @hansolmates JJK

summary; one second, you’re sobbing at prom because the most popular guy in school dumps you due to your relationship being a little prank to break your heart. the next? you’re a creative editor at Ego, the hottest young adult fashion magazine. as you try to figure out what’s the deal with this sudden time skip into adulthood, you come across relationships and friendships that are made to be cherished and made to be broken. genre/warnings; fluff, crack, future enemies to lovers, teenage and adulthood angst, time skips from high school!au to late twenties!au, 13 going on 30!au, all your romantic movie tropes come to life! a really big mess honestly, various movie and music references, mentions of sex, use of alcohol, everyone give jin and jimin a big ol hug, language, a surprise guest from the queen of england. I love adaptations, especially ones that add their own touch, and the writer did it so well. She made me hate Jungkook, and then love him, and then hate him again, in the end I ended up resenting him, I wanted reader to stay with Jin lol, but I still loved it. Definitely my favorite part was having Jimin as a best friend, I loved watching him take on Jungkook in the car. We all need a friend like him.

Hot Bot by @httpjeon JJK/PJM/KTH/JHS

JJK: You order a sex robot online after getting a coupon for half off. however, there’s something strange about yours. PJM: Fear is primal and causes one to make stupid decisions. KTH: Your parents have a gift for you, however, there’s been a mistake. JHS: As a product tester, you have one of the most sought after temporary positions in Hot Bot Inc. This is a series that has smut, I think the name gives it away. It's rather sad that the writer is on hiatus, but he left the gems of his works open to the public. The series is pretty good, I fell in love with Jungkook (and Yoongi kskjdsksjds). Highly recommended.

The proposal by @hansolmates JJK

summary; Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. genre/warnings; the proposal!au, fake marriage au, enemies to friends(!!!), friends to lovers, bouts of flangst, dry humping, slight blood but not too bad, lang, alcohol, poor jjk discovers he has the ability to feel emotion, poor y/n is in the middle as always. I was looking for an adaptation of this movie for so long that when I found this one I almost cried with emotion. I LOVED the movie and the concept it had, and I was so happy to read this fic that captures that very romcom essence that the movie has. I loved it.

Marshmallows and report cards by @untaemedqueen KTH

Warnings: Impreg Kink, Marking, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Birthday Sex, Spitting, Begging, Praise, Fellatio, Face Fucking, Big Dick!Tae, Multiple Orgasms, Unprotected Sex, Possessive!Tae, Cock Warming, Creampie. I already confessed, this kind of fics get to me. I remember reading it and melting with the ending. I read it a long time ago, so I can't give a longer opinion, but I do remember that I loved it and came out internally squealing after I finished it.

Orange tulips by @kainks JJK

Summary: You’d remember Jungkook with every life you lived. Only he’d never remember you, never recall how your fates were written in the stars since the beginning of time. Genre: Angst. Fluff. Light Smut. The anxiety and helplessness I felt reading this fic are on another level. This scarred me, I read it once and I was never the same person again. It was wonderful, I felt so many things and I was so nervous during the whole reading that I almost didn't even realize when it was over. It is a very enjoyable fic.

What if I love you too much? by @taleasnewastime

Summary: Jungkook. It’s only a name you learn after your son kicks his ball over the fence. Before that you only knew him as the hot new neighbour who mows his lawn topless. And though you have no intention of getting to know him anymore than that, inevitably you do. You don’t necessarily fall, it’s too slow for that, but you definitely develop feelings you don’t intend to feel. Because you know men like him, and you know that whatever you’re feeling, he’s probably not feeling the same. All the same, however hard you try, you can’t help yourself. Warnings: Single mum, small fights, explicit sexual content, oral (f receiving), safe penetrative sex, reader thinks Jungkook is cheating/playing the field, angst, but also fluff, child gets injured (though not seriously), talks of cuts and a small amount of blood. This fic left me feeling bad, it even made me question some future decisions regarding my relationship with my future partner and the necessary communication that must be had in a relationship from the beginning, especially if there is a child in the middle. It was something I really enjoyed reading, and even though I had my internal dilemmas with Jungkook, the drabbles in the story helped me a lot to let go of my grudge (I swear I have nothing personal with him sksjkajskajsj).

643 notes · View notes

ktgoodmorning · 2 months

Text

You know I love you

(love language series- words of affirmation)

Alexia Putellas x reader

Inspired by the love language words of affirmation- You and Alexia go out with the team and Alexia allows herself to get drunk, making her extra affectionate with you.

Perfect. A.Bonmati. Quality time.

Silent communications. M.Leon. Physical touch.

Broken. P.Guijarro. Acts of service.

Let me spoil you. C.Coll. Giving/receiving gifts.

Masterlist

“Ale, will you pass me my lip gloss?” you both were standing in front of your vanity, getting ready for a night out with the team. You had just won a big game with Barcelona so of course everyone was going out to celebrate.

“Only if I get a kiss first,” Alexia gave you a teasing smile as she passed it over to you. You never turned down a chance to kiss your girlfriend, especially with how excited you were to go out with her tonight. Even though she was known for never drinking during the season, she had promised that she’d loosen up and have fun tonight which had you reeling in anticipation.

You smiled up at her as you chased her lips again, eager for the night ahead of you. It’d been awhile since the team had gone out because of how busy your match schedule had been. Of course it had been even longer since Alexia had actually participated in these nights out so it really made tonight feel special.

Normally neither of you took very long to get ready, just adding some light makeup and changing clothes. But because tonight felt so special, you both wanted to make the most of it. Each of you had finished off a couple glasses of wine while you took your time doing your hair and makeup. Alexia had put on some music while the two of you danced around your bathroom, constantly being distracted by each other.

“Amor, hair up or down?” you stopped what you were doing and stepped back from the mirror to help answer your girlfriend’s question.

Your head tilted as you tried to help her decide, “hmmm, I can’t pick, you’ll look perfect either way so just do whichever will be more comfortable.” She pouted at your lack of help as you leaned up to peck her lips again. “I don’t know why you always ask, we both know I can never decide, Ale.”

Alexia tried her best to hide her growing smile, unable to continue her pout when you were there to give her kisses. “Cause I value your opinion and you have good ideas,” she shrugged at you like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Maybe hair up. It’ll probably be hot so then it’s out of your way?” you tried to offer her some sort of guidance even if it wasn’t a lot.

“See I knew you would know. You always do,” The blonde pulled you in for yet another kiss before pulling her hair back into a neat low ponytail.

Everyone always said Alexia was quiet and stoic. In a way, maybe she was, but you rarely saw that side of her. Socially awkward, sure. But not usually stoic. When she was with you she was rarely quiet. That was her time to let it all out, to not hold back. You were never going to judge her so she felt safe being her full self around you. She was somewhat chatty with her friends but with you she literally never stopped talking. Sometimes it surprised people but you were used to it. You loved it. Alexia was always making sure that you knew how much she loved you, constantly showering you with compliments.

It wasn’t long before your girlfriend let you know that your Uber would be at your house in the next ten minutes. Alexia left the room to finish getting ready while you put the finishing touches on your makeup.

When you greeted her by the front door, you were blown away by how good she looked. She had on a short-sleeved black button down that clearly had nothing underneath it. It had just enough buttons undone to drive you insane, and you wouldn’t be surprised if a few more opened as the night went on. Your jaw was hanging open as you stared at her, lost in her beauty.

Because of your own distraction, you had no idea Alexia was looking the exact same way at you. “Amor. You are so…” she struggled to find the word she wanted to describe you, “perfect. More than perfect.” You snapped out of your daze as she pulled you into her by your hips. All you could do was kiss her hard. “I cannot believe how beautiful you are,” she mumbled against your lips as she returned the gesture. “I am so in love with you, you don’t even know.” This wasn’t unusual for her- trying her best to talk to you and kiss you at the same time. Sometimes it was the only way she knew to express all her feelings for you.

Your hands reached for the back of her neck, pulling her closer, being careful not to mess up her hair. “Just kiss me, Ale,” you practically moaned into her mouth. All of the sudden you were interrupted by her phone buzzing aggressively. You both groaned loudly as you reluctantly separated for her to see what the notification was.

“Uber’s here amor.” your foreheads were pressed together as you both tried to catch your breath. She separated herself further before leaving one last kiss softly on your lips. “We continue this later, vale?” All you could do was nod your head desperately as Alexia grabbed your purse for you and led you out the door.

Once you were both in the car, Alexia’s hand immediately found its way to your thigh. Your mind was running wild with anticipation for the night ahead of you. The night was going to be perfect. The team was finally going to have the time to let loose together and have fun. They really were your best friends, your family. Obviously afterwards with Alexia was going to be equally as fun, but you were still excited for the time with all your friends before that

You looked over to your girlfriend, only to see her staring at you with intensity in her eyes. Her look made you blush, just as it always did. The look on her face made you giggle, “Why are you staring at me, Ale?” You asked her teasingly, mocking the way her jaw had gone slack.

Alexia wasn’t phased by your teasing, not even hesitating with her response, “Because you’re beautiful.” She smiled at you and offered you a shrug, once again acting like it was the most obvious answer in the world. “And cause it’s cute when you blush.” The smile on her face had transformed into more of a smirk. You just shook your head at her. You should probably be used to her compliments at this point but it made you blush just as much as when you first met.

It wasn’t long until you arrived at the club and Alexia was leading you in, holding your hand tightly. Instantly, Mapi was yelling over at the two of you, “This round’s on you, Capitana! (Y/N) get over here and come see me!” Mapi’s words were already slurring as you broke apart from your girlfriend and joined the rest of the team.

The second you reached them, Pina threw an arm around your shoulders and passed you a drink, ready for you to join the party. “I hear Capi’s drinking tonight, si?” The smirk was clear in her voice, excited to see her mentor let loose for once. You nodded and gave her a smirk in return, equally as excited as she was.

It’s not that you minded when she stayed sober, she was still plenty of fun. It was admirable to everyone the amount of self control she had. Your girlfriend always encouraged you to drink what you wanted and she would take care of you. She would always drive everyone home and make sure everyone ended the night safely, especially you. You usually didn’t get too crazy but Alexia would still always make sure that you stayed hydrated and made it home in one piece.

“Hey Claudia, can I have my girlfriend back?” You giggled as Alexia pulled you into her side, watching as the younger girl raised her hands in self defense. Now that everyone had arrived, you all started your night with a few rounds of shots.

At some point, you had ended up on your girlfriend’s lap as you talked with some of your team. Alexia's hand was snaked around your waist, holding you against her tightly. At times she’d settle her chin on your shoulder or place a kiss to it, whispering more compliments in your ear.

“Ale, I hear you’re having fun tonight, how many drinks in are you?” Mapi basically shouted as she tried to talk to your girlfriend who offered no response. “Ale?” still nothing. “Alexia!”

You turned your head over your shoulder to see Alexia finally snap out of whatever daze she had been in. “Que?” For once, she seemed to have no idea what was going on which made you and the rest of the table laugh.

“Quit staring at your girl! You’re forgetting about the rest of us!” Mapi looked at her with exasperation, basically whining. “You never get drunk with us so when you finally do you’re not allowed to ignore us. Come on, we’re dancing!” Mapi stood up quickly and the rest of the table seemed to be in agreement as everyone dispersed. In the process, someone had pushed another drink into your girlfriend's hand, hoping to see her really let loose tonight.

You looked at Alexia, prepared to try to convince her to join the others. Surprisingly, she spoke before you could, “well, let’s go dance, amor.”

Your eyes went wide as you did nothing to hide the shock from your face, “really?”

“I like looking at you, especially when you’re dancing. And I know you like it, so I want to have fun with you.” Your heart melted hearing her words. She would do anything for you and she was constantly showing you that.

Alexia gave your hips a gentle squeeze as she helped push you up so you could pull her to the dance floor. Some of your friends let out a cheer at the rare sight of their oh-so-professional captain joining in on the fun. You were facing her as you both swayed your hips to the music, taking in the moment. You felt all your worries and responsibilities melt away as you got lost in the bass pulsing through you.

The blonde’s hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as the two of you continued to move against each other. “Dios mio, you look amazing,” she all but groaned in your ear as she continued to stare at you. Her words had slurred slightly, finally noticing the effects of the alcohol setting in. Because of how rarely she drank, it apparently didn’t take much for her to get drunk as she practically whined at you, “amor, let’s go get another drink.” Alexia was tugging at your arm, already starting to pull you towards the bar.

“How about some water first and then another drink,” you tried your best to bargain with her, not trying to get her too trashed. Your girlfriend nodded at you eagerly, before continuing to pull you to the bar. You caught up with her and wrapped an arm around her waist when she stumbled slightly. You decided that you weren’t going to be doing any more drinking yourself, instead focusing on taking care of Alexia. She had done it a million times for you so it was only fair that you took a turn.

When the two of you reached the bar, the Catalan pulled you into her, holding you against her in a makeshift hug. “Estas Bien, Ale?” If you were being the responsible one for the night, it seemed important to check in, especially when she was being clingier than normal. She typically didn’t show you this level of affection when the team was around, trying to keep it professional.

Alexia hummed, satisfied with the night so far. “I’m so proud of you. You know that right?” Once again, your girlfriend was always giving you praise, no matter what the circumstances were.

“Of course I do, I-” The two of you were interrupted by the bartender passing you your drinks (including Alexia’s water). You guided her back over to your table, hoping to give her a bit of a break before she continued.

“I just hope you know how proud of you I am. You’re the reason we won today, amor.” She looked deeply into your eyes, willing you to believe her words. “You just work so hard and I’m so glad you signed with us. You’ve been playing better than I’ve ever seen you play before and it’s all because of the hard work you’ve put in. You impress me so much, amor.” It almost looked like she was going to start crying with the way she looked at you. So serious but also opening up further thanks to the alcohol.

“Ale, I couldn’t have done any of it without your help. You’re the one that’s been pushing me and making me better.” She responded with a shake of the head before drinking some of the water you passed to her. She downed the glass quickly, before facing you again.

Her forehead pressed against yours as she continued her praise, “You know I love you, right? I love your voice and I love how you listen to me and let me talk and I love how you take care of me and how you focus on the things that you love and I really just love you, okay? I love everything about you. So much.” Her rambling left her slightly out of breath as she leaned into you further.

“Alexia Putellas I love you so so much,” you barely had words for all you were feeling. There weren’t words to express how much you loved the woman in front of you. How much you appreciated and admired her. “Do you think we should get you home, Ale? Hesitancy was clear in your voice. It’s not like she was wasted or anything but by her standards, she wasn’t far off. Being the one in charge of taking care of her, you were sure to take your job seriously just as your girlfriend always did for you.

“Noooooo,” Alexia suddenly sat up much straighter, trying to keep herself from swaying. “Can we dance a while longer? Por favor? Then we can go home after that.” Her pleas instantly convinced you as you smiled at her and placed a short kiss to her nose.

Your girlfriend giggled at your kiss which only triggered you to pepper a series of short kisses all over her face. She continued to giggle at you similarly to how a baby would respond to being tickled. As she often did, Alexia playfully pushed your face to the side, calming herself down slightly. “Amor, come dance,” she whined at you while pulling at your arm. Her unusually child-like behavior earned a chuckle from you as you stood up and followed her back to the dance floor.

Alexia stumbled and swayed a bit more as she made her way back to where some of the team still resided. You held onto her tightly, keeping her safe while still letting her have a bit more fun.

“Ale’s drunk!!!” Pina shouted as she jumped around you. Upon hearing this, cheers immediately erupted from the group. Alexia smacked Pina in the back of the head before also joining in the cheering. At that, the entire group erupted, everyone jumping and grinding against whoever was closest. Seeing your girlfriend finally let herself go filled everyone with joy. The whole group loved it but it was different for you. You had seen her at her lowest of lows. You knew how much she deserved this. How much she needed to relax like this. Especially when normally she was the one making sure everyone else was taken care of, it was nice that she finally got a turn.

This newfound surge of energy was entertaining for everyone. At one point, you found her trying to twerk against you which you made no effort to stop. Grabbing her hips from behind, you only encouraged her as some of the others cheered her on. You’d stop her if she did anything too embarrassing but you’d let it slide for now. It wasn’t like she hadn’t already seen the rest of you embarrass yourselves. It only seemed fair.

Mapi joined Alexia with two more drinks, one for each of them. You quickly decided that it’d be your girlfriend’s final drink of the night as you watched them have a contest to see who could chug faster. When Alexia won she immediately cheered for herself before giving Mapi a playful shove. Her best friend was clearly just as drunk as she was when she stumbled directly into Ingrid, barely able to hold herself up. Your girlfriend wasn’t doing much better, also tripping as she tried to celebrate her “win” with you.

Ingrid shared a look with you as you both held up your extremely inebriated girlfriends, deciding it was time to get them home before they could do anything else. You put in for an Uber as you started trying to get your girlfriend ready to go. You wrapped your arm around Alexia’s waist, trying to steady her as best you could. She was slightly taller than you and quite a bit stronger which made holding her more difficult than you expected. Normally she was the one carrying you out of the club after a long night.

“Here I got her,” Patri appeared out of nowhere, coming to your rescue. Sure she was drunk but nothing like your girlfriend. Between the two of you, you managed to get her outside just as your Uber was arriving. Alexia’s head came to lie on your shoulder, all but putting her entire weight against you despite Patri being significantly stronger than you. Of course Patri had to take a minute to laugh at you struggling to carry your girlfriend before finally helping you and getting your girlfriend settled into the backseat next to you. You gave her a quick thanks before the car started back towards your shared home.

You didn’t even realize that your girlfriend was still awake until she lifted her head from your shoulder slightly, “I love you so much, amor.” Her words were barely recognizable between how heavily her words slurred together along with how her accent had thickened. You gave her a soft smile though, touched by the sentiment as well as how she still made sure to use your native language, no matter how drunk she was. “I don’t feel like I tell you that enough.”

“Ale, you definitely tell me enough, I promise.” You smiled at the thought- she was quite literally always telling you how much she loved you. Like nonstop. Constantly.

Alexia’s head shook slightly before landing back on your shoulder. “I should tell you that more. You know if there was ever anyone who was made for me, it’d be you for sure.” Her words turned somewhat incoherent by the end of her sentence before her eyes fluttered shut. You pressed a long kiss to the top of her head. You knew you’d be in for a rough morning with her tomorrow but for now all you could do was revel in her words. It didn’t matter if she was drunk or sober or in front of her friends- Alexia would never stop confessing her love for you and you would never stop appreciating that.

Perfect. A.Bonmati. Quality time.

Silent communications. M.Leon. Physical touch.

Broken. P.Guijarro. Acts of service.

Let me spoil you. C.Coll. Giving/receiving gifts.

Feedback and requests are always welcome! :)

Masterlist

#barca femeni #barcelona femeni #woso imagines #fcb femini #woso one shot #woso #espwnt #espwnt x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #barca femeni x reader #wosoreading24/7 #wosoreadingalexia

773 notes · View notes

harmoonix · 10 months

Text

🌴 ☙ Lovely astrology notes ☙🌴

🌏♡🌏♡🌏♡🌏♡🌏♡🌏♡🌏♡🌏♡🌏♡🌏♡🌏♡

☙ Your Jupiter Sign can describe some traits your husband might have (This applies only if you attracted to men)

Aries Jupiter - Loves to give you the attention you need and shares loves and intimacy

Taurus Jupiter - Loves to get touchy with you they love physical touch and gentle touching

Gemini Jupiter - Would spend hours talking with you about how your day is, how you're doing, and how much you can mean to them

Cancer Jupiter: Loves to comfort you when you need it and to support you

Leo Jupiter: Loves to talk about about how proud they are of you

Virgo Jupiter: Someone who can take care of you or you support you when you have it low

Libra Jupiter: Loves to take you on romantic dates and to tell you how much they love you

Scorpio Jupiter: Would give you the moon, they would love to hug you all day long

Sagittarius Jupiter: To take you in amazing trips/adventures and to make memories together

Capricorn Jupiter: Loves to hangout with you and to give you assurance about how much you mean to them

Aquarius Jupiter: Would make you their best friend and treat you like a lover in the same, they can talk with their friends a lot about you

Pisces Jupiter: Would love to create an connection with you and to be bounded in love but also spiritually

🌏♡🌏♡🌏♡🌏♡🌏♡🌏♡🌏♡🌏♡🌏♡🌏♡🌏♡

☙ Jupiter trine/sextile/conjunct Ascendant can make the native thick, or just giving them very thick legs/thighs (Of course you need to eat healthy and etc to have a nice body) 👄

☙ Virgo Moons/Moon in Virgo Degrees (6°, 18°) prioritize their health a lot, they are always concerning about their health also about how healthy they eat 💭

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Sullys stick together. That was our greatest weakness, and our great strength.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

☙ Libra Moon/Moon in Libra Degrees (7°, 19°) are the people who fall very easily in love without thinking "What if they are wrong person for me" and just realizing at the end/when the things get low, be aware of the people around you 💗

☙ Moon trine/sextile Venus can make the native an hopeless romantic, someone who can offer anything for their partners and loving them unconditionally

☙ Pisces Moon/Moon in Pisces Degrees (12°, 24°) can be spiritual gifted, aswell as very intuitive. Can also have signs in their dreams, they can be also psychic 🪄

☙ Pluto aspecting Neptune (all aspects) can have a sort of spiritual awakening at some point or just a type of rebirthing of how they evolve spiritually

☙ Asteroid Valentine [447] in Libra/in 7th house or at Libra Degrees (7°, 19°) makes the native to be gifted with a good love life and possibly even marriage life but only if they find the right partner who can give them all the love they need (I love the love asteroids in Libra because they are connected so much, some asteroids even feel at home in Libra💅��)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

░P░A░N░D░O░R░A░

☙ Asteroid Valentine [447] in Sagittarius/in the 9th house or at Sagittarius Degrees (9°,21°) makes the native to be very curious when they get into a relationship, they can travel with their specific person a lotttt and to enjoy their presence, you can feel free with them (Honestly any love asteroids in Sagittarius are chefs kiss💋)

☙ Asteroid Valentine [447] in Virgo/in the 6th house or at Virgo Degrees (6°, 18°) can find that perfectionist partner who can be good at literally everything 😍, also their partners can be like teachers and teach them a lot of things

☙ Asteroid Valentine [447] trine/sextile/conjunct the MC can make the people to see you and your specific person as the perfect couple, a couple is very in love with eachother and very affectionate

☙ Asteroid Valentine in Aries/1st house or at Aries Degrees (1°, 13°, 25°) makes the native to be attracted physically like a magnet 🧲 to people, they can attract partners easily and partners with good personalities/dominant figures/brave etc

(Love this gif so much seeing Neytiri as a mom makes my heart melt, trying to not CRY everytime I see this scene)

☙ Venus Degrees over your Sun Sign (2°,7°,14°, 19°, 26°) can give your an alluring beauty that many people can find it very attractive, because of Taurus & Libra energy you also tend to be very romantic

☙ Saturn in the 7th house is not for the weak, Saturn gives lessons and challenges, yes he can do that but it always comes with good things aswell, they can have success in finding a very good relationship and a serious one who can last forever (Saturn loves to be in the 7th house idk what astrologer woke up and said "Wait Saturn doesn't like it here") 👽...

☙ Saturn in the 5th house is a very strong placements for those who want to have a good relationship and kids, Saturn might give you that but it can come later in life or after you just learned some lessons about those topics, the right partner will come for you, don't you worry.

☙ Venus/Juno combined with Saturnian Degrees (10°, 11°, 22°, 23°) can have karmic relationships/partners or just relationships that can have a lot lessons

☙ Juno in Taurus or 2nd house might get "Princess Treatment" or very spoiled by their partners 🛍️🛍️ this placement can also be "Material Girl"

☙ Sagittarius + Libra placements especially in big 6 (Sun, Moon, Rising, Venus, Mars, Mercury) in a chart can make someone very outgoing and fun to be around with, they love to hangout so much and just to go and have fun

☙ Capricorn + Scorpio placements in big 6 (Sun, Moon, Rising, Venus, Mars, Mercury) can make someone very loyal and serious about what they want in life, they are very good at hiding their feelings from the world so no one can know them

☙ Aquarius + Pisces placements in big 6 can make someone very creative, intuitive, misterious and very humanitarian, they love to help others (even animals if they can), having this love for the world is something they are born with

☙ Leo + Aries placements in a chart can make someone very hot tempered, someone who's emotion's can be felt very intense and yet someone who can be dramatic sometimes, they are a good combo for confidence boost

░P░A░N░D░O░R░A░

☙ Taurus and Cancer placements in a chart can make someone very nurturing, someone who can make other people feel better with their words, aswell as very sensitive and caring with the people they love

☙ Virgo and Gemini placements in a chart can make the native to be seen as someone who is very intelligent and with a lot of logic, wise, curious and talktive yet shy sometimes, they love to make deep conversations and chats

☙ AIR moon + FIRE rising in a chart can make the person very expressive and logical, they think at every situation possible when something doesn't go as planed, they are extremely fun to be around

☙ EARTH moon + EARTH rising in a chart makes the person very intuitive and grounding, they are very generous with people and EXTREMELY KIND like omg they are so kind with literally everyone + someone who has a lot of respect for others

(Couldn't find an gif of this so I needed to take a photo 🥹🥹 so sweet I love them so much)

☙ WATER moon + AIR rising makes the person to be very creative, someone with a lot of dreams and possibly someone who is always with their head in the clouds, they have this special aesthetic and an creative eye for a lot of things

☙ FIRE moon + WATER rising can make the native very honest and trusty, they are so curious about everything around them hearing "What's that","How that works". "How you make this" is so cute because they tend to be this energetic person who can send a lot of good vibes to people

☙ Can we talk about how Moon and Mercury aspects are literally having the most cutest voices ever??? They can possess singing abilities aswell like gurl go sing TITANIC and you will have success

░P░A░N░D░O░R░A░

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

🙂 How can I describe this... I love avatar so much that I made another post based on the movie 😭 I love it so much give it a chance to watch in case the gifs make you to wonder about it 🫶🏼

🤍☀️ Anyway while writing I felt this post was a bit long I entered in many subjects and i described many placements and my theories about some aswell ☀️🤍 Hope you will like it as much as I did while processing this post 🫶🏼☀️🤍

☀️🤍🫶🏼Have a blessed day full of light and warm energy ☀️🤍🫶🏼

2K notes · View notes

comfortless · 3 months

Note

The way you write König makes me cry and dry heave cuz you balance his loser unhingeness and his heartbreaking tenderness is✨ ART✨

Now I feel like you would be able to EAT this prompt up but imagine König as Frankenstein’s creature that is this big ass hulking mass of body that immediately makes the town grab their pitchforks but he can DESTROY them in seconds. But inside he is just a little guy who just wants somebody to hold and love (and other activities if ya know what I mean

Keep doing what you do❤️

A Place For Us

Frankenstein’s creature! König x fem! horologist reader

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. discrepancies!, reader is implied to have anxiety, angst & fluff, non-malicious stalking?, loner/loner dynamic my beloved.., brief mentions of previous murders and religious imagery, codependency, smut; masturbation, unprotected piv.

notes: receiving this ask was so funny to me because @melancholic-thing and i have been bouncing this idea around forever (i simply could not have brought this any justice without ghost’s input— if you see this please know that ily dearly). thank you, anon for your kind words and finally giving me the push that i needed to write it! 💘

wc: 10.6k

You’re good at fixing broken things; tinkering with them with a set of well-polished tools until they begin to tick, or chime, or cuckoo.

Some take longer than an afternoon sat before the wooden desk, weeks or months— a year, once. Oiled parts and small cogs, the three arms that jerk and glide over a face riddled with numbers that all lull you into feeling that your work is not just some monotonous service only the rich buzzards could afford, but as if you were a healer of sorts; a little cleric stationed to bring life into whichever jagged, broken thing has been dropped or kicked at her doorstep.

This one, however… you’re convinced it’s as good as dead.

No matter how many times you take apart the little, gray pocket watch, the arms refuse to move. Its ticking sounds less like that of the beating of the heart and more like the grinding of dry teeth, a corpse begging, pleading to let this attempted resurrection come to an end.

Your tweezers wrench the face free, and all at once it proves too much— bending and warping beneath the metal grip until it cracks, a split right through it, down to its very center.

“How…” Your voice fills the void of ticking, pseudo-silence surrounding you. A word slipped out in frustration and unknowing before you finally toss the wretched little thing onto the desk with a clatter and step aside.

The house is as dark and brooding as always, too large for a woman on her own and a workshop that hardly counts as a proper business. Shelves of broken clocks serve as decor where potted plants and well-loved photographs should sit in their stead. Books of study for modern devices such as these in place of the poetry and worn love letters other women seemed to have in abundance.

This place was starved out of light, even with the flickering glow of candles and the electric humming of the unnatural yellow one above.

The sun is no stranger, either, your curtains neatly pulled aside to allow for it to filter through like an invited guest. Only it doesn’t, not on such a melancholic gray day.

You need a walk, a distraction, or this hungry home would be certain to rip away your work from the shelves and swallow you whole instead.

Isn’t it such a tragedy that, someone who pours her creativity and all of her love into time, all she seems to do is waste it?, the gaudy wallpaper seems to taunt, all the colors of filthy maroon and darkened blue flowers seeming to make it feel more imposing and less of a comfort.

Your hand curls around the handle of your umbrella, a sturdy thing, but just as drab as the rest of the home. Then, the package you’ve been putting off delivering to the elderly woman in town. Best to get it done with now, maybe upon your return the hands that fix could do so once again.

Shame about the clock face though. You would certainly have to patch together another and pray the pocket watch’s owner wouldn’t notice.

The wind is not what you had anticipated.

Outside is different. The howling of it past the windows and shuddering through the attic felt perfectly at home in your shoddy little house, but as the door swings shut behind you, it feels entirely alive. Cold and bitter and angry— the things you keep repressed that nature lacks the tact to.

The trees bend and sway from its invisible yet incessant pushing. The hand containing the package falls down to the lap of your skirt to keep it from flying up just as your other clutches the umbrella ever tighter to keep it from billowing out into the air to be left discarded miles away.

It isn’t a short walk to town, but with the wind and the drizzling rain, it almost seems as though you’re in more tender company than the lumber and the ticking clocks.

The path through the forest is overgrown as always, branches are pushed aside and your skirt is lifted to avoid burrs and thorns.

You should have had the sense to bring along a coat, because when the thunder does strike up and the rain finally begins to fall in heavy, hurried drops, you find yourself shivering terribly with the package guarded against your chest.

Lamplight would have done well, too.

You would have almost happily allowed yourself to toss aside the umbrella and be battered by the rain if you could only see. The forest is dark on days like this, with the canopy of thick branches and their dense leaves blocking out any sliver of light cast down from overhead.

It’s only by sheer luck that you don’t manage to trip, toss your delivery into the shadow of a tree and lose it entirely before you do make it out. When the trees finally part to the barren hill overlooking town you breathe a sigh of relief, a quiet thanks for the grayed light above.

Your steps are hurried as you make your way through the quiet town. The shop windows are all lit aglow with the silhouettes of people inside, strangely dancing like shadows through a fog. A place you can not be, can not touch.

The stares the townsfolk give you make your skin crawl, as though they are so close to being what you are but not, only tied down to your world when they think themselves lofty. Their eyes always seem to question, scrape under your skin with sharpened arms, ticking and flaying, always asking: Why?

You face forward as your skin begins to prickle, not from the wet or the chill but a subdued sort of fear that nestles burning into your chest, sets your heart rushing like a rabbit.

The streets are silent enough, a small blessing; any passing strangers are hurriedly skittering through the rain and muck to hide away in their homes, children ushered with a hand to their back by flustered looking mothers, complaining in hushed voices about the rain. You only smile at them and step aside when your paths cross.

They never smile for you.

It’s why the broken clocks are delivered to your doorstep rather than brought inside, addresses and names from muffled voices calling out beyond your thick wooden door, coins and bills pushed through the mail slot to lie cold on the welcome mat. The bell above the door never chimes, and you only make your deliveries on days like this, when the rain or the dark blanket you up to keep you safe and eternally somber.

You leave the package on the doorstep, covered from the rain by a small, vermillion awning. One sharp knock is given and you’re back on your way, back to the old house, to the simplicity of the ticking, the comfort of the old cobweb on the vaulted ceiling and the drab gray of the bleakness.

There are puddles now, glistening with any light they can suck into their depths, threatening and taunting as the dull stares and that rickety old desk you really should fix. You think for a moment, that perhaps no one would even notice if one of those dark pits of rain water pulled you in entirely, only to splash through it with ease, dirtying the ends of your skirt.

The rain lessens when you crest the hill, the forest less a tangle of clattering limbs and now only a gentle sway reaches the tops of the trees, light filtering through them, as if to guide you on your way. It doesn’t lessen the bushels of thorns, the tree limbs downed and scattered over the path. In some small blessing, you’re able to scramble over them without having to plan a visit to a tailor to repair a ripped gown; scrubbing the mud from it would surely be tedious enough.

The droplets splatter against the dirt and fallen leaves in hushed bursts, the forest alive as always with the cooing of nesting birds in spite of the rain. The only thing that seems out of place is a sudden, soft thud, the snap of a branch underfoot. Just one footfall, and things return to a placid state amidst the sky’s tears.

You raise your head to glimpse in the direction, gaze sweeping over the figure of a man some paces off to your left. Beneath the shadow of a broad, twisting pine layered in thick branches, his details are mostly obscured, a thin trail of silver light only casting aglow the glimpse of a blue eye.

He’s only large enough to notice, shoulders slumped and chest rapidly rising to fall like a frightened animal; as his silhouette shifts just so you even consider that he’s shivering.

There’s something in that stare of somber blue that splinters at the wall of discomfort; it is not accusing, not bitter, worn and cold. Curious. Something akin to your own.

Damn your sweetness, your inability to simply let things be even as that ache twists around in your chest, clawing at a cage of bone and hissing that you keep silent. Be on your way. Don’t look back.

Instead, you extend your umbrella outward, toward him.

“Awful rain, hm?,” you chime.

The figure visibly tenses, seems to shrink into himself for a moment before straightening and giving one solemn nod.

“You can take my umbrella. I’m almost home, anyway.”

That seems to spark something, not much, but the stranger does take a step forward. Your eyes catch on the wet, matted hair clinging to his head, cascading down to shroud a face you still can’t quite make out.

The poor thing stirs something in you, a deep sympathy that clouds even the judgment of that flighty, skittish thing resting deep inside.

Even from such a distance it’s clear that he’s been neglected, likely cast off by the town even less favorably than you have. His scent carries on the breeze, like dirt and wood and misery.

You extend the umbrella again before realizing he won’t come any closer with you being there. So, you lower it to the ground, avoiding the mud as best you could and leave it. If he took it, fine. If not, you travel this path so often it would be collected in time.

The figure mutters something as you rise, a low string of foreign words that you can only interpret as being spoken out of surprise, perhaps even gratitude.

You smile toward him as you wipe fat, slithering raindrops from your brow.

“You don’t want to catch a fever.”

With that, you’re back on your way, thoughts of the rugged stranger weigh heavy on your mind as the roof of your home comes into view, stilted and in the same drab navy as the flowers on the wallpaper.

You could have done more. It had been instilled into you to not to open the door for someone you did not quite know, yet a part of you longed to take care of something not simply fed by oil, something only capable of telling you how much time you’ve sat alone as thanks.

Surely it was best not to let it distract you.

This was good enough.

The key is produced, the door opened, and just like the many times before that you have forced yourself from this place, the house seems less unsettling upon your return.

As what little daylight remains fades away into night, you find yourself seated, toying with the old pocket watch once more. It’s the only one that doesn’t make a lick of sense, a puzzle that can not be solved. For all the polished parts and meticulous tinkering, it still won’t work properly.

It grates and growls as though rusted, the cogs shifting inside with each movement of the arms are well-polished yet seem to do little but hiss and spit.

This is the fourth time you have taken it apart only to put it back together with no improvement.

There was little to be known about the man who owned it, some pompous, arrogant creature that you had only seen in passing. He had turned his nose up to you, you were sure of that, only to deliver this dying thing to your door the following day.

Your work had always been compared to your father’s. Though you possessed a similarity in skill, you were not what the townsfolk had deemed to be respectable. An unwed lady out on her own, biding her time repairing what they had broken rather than feeding hungry mouths delivered from her very womb, how terribly scandalous.

The pocket watch is set aside as you busy yourself tailoring a small sheet of metal for it. The graduations are carved in with a sharp razor, impeccably angled. Then, the Roman numerals, just before it’s slotted back into place.

The likeness to the former face is nearly uncanny, it’s only sturdier and less susceptible to ripping from the mere touch of tweezers. The rust s gone from the casing, and at long last— it ticks; no grinding growl as the second hand begins its revolution. The fickle thing just needed a touch up, you supposed as you flick off the desk lamp and rise to your feet.

The curtains are drawn as they always were when you step into the bedroom. The muddy dress is finally peeled away as you change and slink into the covers, and just for a moment, you almost think that you feel the animal between your breasts begin to settle too.

———

There’s a letter stuffed into the mail slot: crumpled with no postage stamp, scrawled across some scrap of paper that surely was plucked from a garbage bin.

You marvel at the lack of care for a moment before your fingers do find themselves pawing at it, unfurling the worn edges to find the words: Thank you.

Written in thick black ink, there’s a clumsiness to it, the dance of a quivering hand holding pen. You think back to the elderly woman you had made that delivery to only yesterday; had she trudged through the mud and muck just to bring you this?

Her thanks was only needed in the blessing of payment, and she had already generously done just that when she left her little humming wall clock at the door.

You flip the note over, inspecting it carefully. There’s a line there, too, hastily scratched out in the same black ink, the lines crossing and digging leaving little pinprick holes in the paper.

Holding it to the light, you can just barely make out the words: I have been alone.

Your mouth dries at the sentiment, tongue flicking out to try and force a wetness to your lips. The animal begins its keening howl, a chain rattling as claws sink into your innards; the very same agitated fear that starved you out of comfort day in and out.

The man in the forest, perhaps. You were sure that you would have remembered seeing someone so disheveled and tall about town, and if not for a certainty that he had not followed you home, you would have assumed it was him. Gratitude finally said, and well on his way to someplace else.

There’s nothing here for him or anyone else, surely he could see that. Even you could.

The walls around you seem to bulge, the room shrinking once again as every little thing held within begins to taunt and yowl. Safety was only a temporary luxury, it always has been.

The letter is discarded onto a table, as you opt to hazard a peek out of your curtains instead. The gray from yesterday remains as thick clouds crowd above, threatening another storm. The treetops and tall grass dance in the breeze, freeing leaves and breaking flower stems. There’s no one standing there to greet you, to explain themselves for the strange message that they had left.

The town had probably already driven you to madness, picturing things that were not there while old fools jab you with ominous letters and jeering stares to see just how long it would take to watch you fall apart.

Another delivery day it would be, then; best to get it out of the way before the rain begins to fall.

Maybe you could even retrieve the umbrella along the path, discarded, battered from the rain and likely unused.

You don’t bother packaging the pocket watch, choosing to hastily stuff it into the pocket of your coat instead. Courtesies be damned. Tea and a warm bath would do well when the house was sated by your absence, when you were finally given time to breathe.

In your haste, you nearly kick over what’s been left on the uppermost stair leading to your door.

You find a table clock covered in a thick black fabric, a little note attached to it giving the owner’s name and address, and a small bag containing payment.

It’s all securely placed inside, next to the ugly letter on the table.

Your umbrella doesn’t wait on the path, but you’ve hardly the mind to care. Your hand tightens around the pocket watch as you cord your way down the path and back into town, rushing amidst the foliage until the sounds of your footfalls are dulled by the street.

Reaching the house, a towering narrow building that smells like tobacco even from outside, your hand curls to knock at the door in the same breath taken as the chain is plucked to place it on the knob, intent on scurrying away immediately to avoid the disgusted gaze of the man that waits inside.

You don’t quite make it far enough before the door swings open and you’re greeted by a round face, nose upturned and lip curled into a sneer.

That isn’t imagination.

There’s a genuine hate in this man, seeping down into his bones that makes him almost seem to reek like sulfur through the cloud of cigarette smoke that wafts around him. It’s the face of someone who would love nothing more than to see your own damnation, watch the earth suck you in until your wails fall silent and a fire roars upward in your wake.

“This isn’t my watch, dear.”

“Parts needed to be replaced,” you explain, voice tight and keening like a wolf in a trap, “I assure you that I—“

“It’s shoddy work. Any clocksmith up north would have done better for half the price..”

It goes on like this for what feels like at minimum thirty revolutions, but it must have only been five or so. His droning voice makes it hard to keep track, buzzing as he examines your work, hours wasted upon aiding such an awful creature.

He only seems to grow bored of his chiding when you fall to silence. He wants a reaction, not a wide-eyed fretful stare and pursed lips caging in any sound that may bubble up from your throat.

In one final act of detestation, the watch is tossed to the ground, stomped in repetition until the hands snap, the ticking quiets, and you see months of your work brought to ruin in a mere seven seconds.

He storms back inside and slams the door shut as you stoop to collect the little, broken thing, cradling it in your palms. Maybe it wouldn’t be fixed again, but you’ve hardly the mind to let anything be left abandoned like this.

Though the anger builds, white bitter smoke billowing through your veins, it remains tucked away inside eventually communing with the animal, all but entirely snuffed out when your steps lead you to the front door of the house.

The window to the right is open, not broken. The curtains were pushed aside as though to allow a breeze to enter. A muddy footprint, vast and long scales the siding, but there’s no exiting one to join it.

You stare and listen, taking one quiet step towards the open window to strain your hearing. Nothing. Inside, it’s quiet, only the sound of the breeze rattling that note left on the table, the ticking and the familiar creaks and groans of the house settling.

So, you enter.

With the poker from the hearth in tow, the rooms are investigated one by one. Each and every one of them clear of any intruder. Even the attic, for all of it’s imagined ghosts sits empty, stale and silent. There’s no one here, nothing out of place or broken that hadn’t already been cast out from the world and delivered into your hands.

Strangely enough, it’s more peaceful like this; the leaves could be heard rustling outside, birds calling, even the chirps and strumming of crickets too late to flee the onset of chill seeping through this purgatory, filling the mundane void with sounds of life and peace.

You leave the window open.

The pocket watch is left on the desk, the kettle filled with water and placed upon the stove to heat, all before your eyes trail over to that little table beside the front door.

The only thing amiss is there, your intuition roars at you: “Look, look. Just look.”

The table clock from this morning sits there, the wood casing dusty and the hands perpetually stuck to sit at six o’clock, easy to enough to break, and easier still to fix. An overworked battery and a little oil would be its saving grace; if only things could be so simple for yourself, for the thousand or so others that surely must feel the same— clawed, fretful little rabbits.

Your eyes narrow momentarily, vaguely recalling that the damned thing had been covered when it was dragged inside. Something sable and thick, a scrap of a heavy dress shirt perhaps, verily stained. Odd that someone would have broken in merely to steal something so useless, but stranger tales have been told. For all you cared, the perpetrator could keep it.

You entertain the idea of the wild man in the trees, thick and sturdy as one. Perhaps he left the note, stole warmth from your home and found comfort in that useless old shirt after leaving that roughly scrawled note. Though the idea would horrify others, it only sets your ceaselessly racing pulse at ease.

Toying with the idea that someone so very much like you lurks the hills, found a home in your eyes and paid a visit, kind enough to wait until you were in town as to not scare you… and the kettle begins to whistle.

———

You had forgotten to close the window last night. Or maybe it was left as an invitation, a silent offer of your companionship for the unknown thing that occupies your already haunted mind these days. Something in your subconscious dared you to simply forget, see what happens, and you’re not entirely disappointed to find out that yes, something has happened.

There are three flowers laid out there in a row, smushed by the weight of a heavy palm: a daffodil left golden and proud despite the way her petals fray and wither, and two others wild and unnamed with blue and white colors leading to vibrant green stems. And roots. He hadn’t the time to pluck them proper, nor had a sense of gentleness to his touch in doing so.

It’s the first time you’ve laughed in months, a giggling that makes your chest ache from a sudden mirth through all of this wretchedness. Who knew it would only take three flowers and the appearance of someone so disconnected? You take them and place them in a vase in the same spot, careful to add just the right amount of water to keep them living for a time.

Someone brought you flowers— actually brought you a gift, not a job. You remember those eyes, too. His hands may not have been gentle, but that look was.

Though darkness still creeps internally, you’re resolute in what you must do when you prepare for the day. You’ve never really worn this dress— a soft, white thing with billowing sleeves and tight cuffs that brings a swell to your breasts and cinches your waist. One of the women about town had given it to you in lieu of payment for repairing her husband's watch, left a note prattling onward for three pages about how a woman should dress to find a man. Three!

You’ll find him, thank him for the flowers, bat your eyelashes just a little and retrieve your umbrella. That’s all. The rain would be back, more deliveries would have to be made, and if you could manage a friend from all of this well… surely things could work out for you, just this once.

Your steps are less hurried and more tentative this time around. You don’t barrel through the woods like a galloping mare, mindful of your dress as you lift the fabric at the hips to avoid thick, slickened mire. There isn’t much to do about the thorns nipping at your ankles, leaving little scratches like cat’s claws in their wake.

The thought that maybe this was a ridiculous idea only settles in your mind after an hour of searching. You don’t even have a name to call him by, not an idea on just where he may be or what his intentions truly were, all further punctuated by the fact that you’ve found yourself in the midst of a wild orchard, the yellowing grass nearly reaching your knees as you reluctantly allow your dress to flow free. Thick clusters of apples hang above your head, each nearly ripe, some even fallen to leave a fragrant sweet smell in the wake of their rot.

Thunder roars above, distant but loud, cruelly threatening the wake of a downpour that would so easily sully the delicate thing you wear. Your chest aches from exertion, from whichever horrid fear it's settled on today, and you’re nearly fully convinced of your own madness when something does finally catch your eye.

There’s a cabin, nestled between the trees, old and lacking glass panes for the windows. The roof is covered in moss, walls creeping with the old green of vines and nearly hidden away entirely by the tall grass that rises above its face.

You could wait out the storm in the dark there, rethink your steps until you find a way back home and the prospect of actually entering a building that wasn’t the very picture of your own agony stirs something within you.

You don’t bother to knock, only waltz right in and let the door shut softly behind you. It creaks as it goes, whining from the rust laden over its hinges. As expected, the cabin is mostly barren; a set of dust laden chairs sits on opposite ends of a table missing a leg, a large bookshelf housing only a torn copy of Paradise Lost and a journal, a few dirtied dishes are left on the floor, and in the corner…

There are a lot of things that make you feel small.

You couldn’t live up to your father’s name in town. The thought that you were not an equal to the other ladies with their fine jewelry and dresses, rings wrapped around their fingers, that was a sore spot despite the way you refused to admit to it. Even the hounds lurking about the butcher’s shop on lonely night deliveries, baying and growling when your feet carried you too close.

None of those things could even compare to how you felt now.

The rug he lies beneath is large on its own, but your flower-giving, grateful titan seems even more so. It’s as though walking into a bear’s den and expecting a mere squirrel. Even curled into himself in sleep, he seems impossibly huge.

You couldn’t see much of him that first night, but now… where the rags that make up his clothes reveal a series of long scars along his legs, the hairy arms that seem far too thick: all of him, all of him is massive.

Your rabbit heart does not claw or fight you now, it only flutters, placated by the sight of something so… was there really a word for it? The idea that someone so imposing could strike the match of attraction within you. Feelings were strange, each comes sharp and new like the deliberate twist of a knife through a body, soft like warm bread.

You smile as you wander to his side, recognizing the cloth he wears over his head immediately as the one stolen from your house. Your dress is smoothed at your rear as you lower yourself to sit on your knees at his side, quiet and slow.

“Hello,” you whisper, placing a hand on a shoulder that dwarfs it entirely, feeling the bulge of muscle beneath the ripped shirt, the ridge of keloid scars from deep cuts laid into his skin.

The titan’s eyelids flutter for a moment as he begins to stir, staring up at the ceiling, teetering on the edge between waking and dreaming. Then, those cold blue eyes lock onto you. A flash of disbelief crosses them, just for a moment before something flips and from the holes ripped into that makeshift hood you see an expression that seems almost agonized.

“Hello,” he rasps after a long moment, shifting onto his side to prop himself up and raise his head to level with your own.

His breathing is shallow, almost panicked and you finally think to bring your hands to your lap instead, avoid touching him and potentially startling the poor man further.

“I wanted to thank you… for the flowers. They’re beautiful.” You pause as you study what little of his expression you can make out through the mask, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners only giving a glimpse of a smile. All teeth, probably, an excited one that even the imagination of warms your heart. “I put them in a vase. I didn’t want them to die.”

“I should not have…” His voice is softer than you ever imagined that it could be, well-spoken as the words are pulled from his throat. You find yourself transfixed, almost, praying that he continues if only to hear the delicate strumming of his tone, the soft sigh of breath that leaves him afterward.

“Es tut mir leid.”

The apology is followed by a low sweep of his gaze, slowly crawling from the peek of your cleavage to your hips to rest where your hands lay clasped in your lap.

He hardly seems to know what to do with himself, what to say, and all at once the realization dawns on you that no, he isn’t merely paying his thanks and seeking conversation. Perhaps that was part of it then, but now… he seems almost entranced.

You recognize those looks, from men in passing when they leered, but from him… from this weary, haunted stranger. It only seems a silent sort of reverence; as though longing for something he’s been deprived of.

“No, it’s fine, it made me happy.”

“Happy?”

“Yes, it was sweet.”

He falls silent at that, conflicted if the pinch of his brow were anything to go by. Then, sudden, he takes your wrist and jerks your hand toward his face, thumb brushing over the small calluses over each pad of your fingers. There’s dirt beneath his fingernails, even more scaring along those massive hands and you shiver. It’s not fear it’s… something akin to it, opposite by the way it dances and writhes in warmth rather than the cold.

“You have the hands of a maker.”

Strange, sweet Goliath.

His words are spoken somberly, as if there is more to say that he holds back. A part of you warns that you’re not prepared for it anyhow, so you let him continue that motion, brushing over your palm with a featherlight touch until it begins to tickle.

Your giggle prompts him to raise his head, watery eyes threatening tears when he hears that sweet sound bubble up from within you. His hand curls over your own, trapping you in his grasp as though little else matters to him more than the need to touch you in some way.

“You have kind eyes.”

“I am not kind.”

You shake your head at that, flicking your thumb across the top of his burly hand, marveling at the smooth skin of his scars and the rough texture of the hair that dots his knuckles.

“You’re sweet to me, and that’s all that matters.”

It could have been a mistake, how easily you’ve taken to this bizarre titan. Any lady with proper regard for her standing and womanhood assuredly wouldn’t have said something like that to a beast that has the stature and the scent of something wild.

Still, the words leave your lips far too quickly to draw back; he responds with an urgency.

You find yourself pulled ever closer by the iron grip on your hand, tugged into the rug-turned-mattress by this man as he cages you in to meld against his chest. He’s everywhere, warm and burning against the chill of your skin with flesh touched by hellfire.

You only sigh pitifully when his arm wraps around your waist. When was the last time you had even felt an embrace? You couldn’t recall, and even if you had, it would have paled in comparison to one such as this. You breathe him in like a summer’s breeze, tasting a hint of the apple orchard beyond on your tongue when you open your mouth to speak once again.

“See..?”

The tension in his muscles seems to melt away; if your heart is like a hare then surely his must be more akin to a bull. It takes some time before he softens entirely against you, despite his initiation. His breath is almost a pant when his hand trails upward along your back, feeling every ridge and dip and curve, breath catching in wonder as you allow it.

“You are soft like…”

His head dips to press into your shoulder, breathing you in, humming his approval at the mingling scent of clock oil and tea leaves that lingers on your skin. Even from beneath the hood, you can feel the way his lips brush over you, his mouth parted in a voiceless plea.

“… like one of the flowers.”

It’s almost torture really, how someone could be so comforting, so endearing.

His hand trails further, drifting over the backside of your dress to curl against your thigh threatening something if you don’t conjure the sense to stop him. It stokes the fire within you, glowing ember in place of a brain, it seemed. You feel weak, lost in a foreign touch and sweet, clumsily spoken words.

If the townsfolk could see you now, herded up in this stranger’s arms, surely they wouldn’t dare to cast any disapproval your way. Not one of those meek little devils would have a word to say… not now or ever again.

“You’re like… a tree then,” you whisper as you finally will yourself to twist away from the grip, already mourning the loss of warmth as a cold wind filters through the openings in the cabin.

He doesn’t sulk as you pull away, only seems content to have been blessed with that much. That mist remains in his eyes before they shut again, willing himself to rise to sit up just as you do.

“Will you stay?”

You glance over the cabin again, with all of its dust and cobwebs. Your umbrella sits in the corner, propped upright with its handle leant against the wall, out of place amidst the dilapidation prevalent here.

This wasn’t a home at all, just a quiet, cold purgatory. Though the halls of your own may mock your solitude, this place seems to echo his very being: alone, broken, rotting and so, so very cold.

Your heart bleeds as you weigh your options, expression growing sullen and torn. He notices, tentatively takes your hand again in an almost practiced way of providing comfort. Had he ever even…

Your thoughts begin to drift again, and you force yourself to settle on a choice. It’s not your heart that should be damned, but that horrid seed of doubt constantly burdening, stealing from, and clawing at you.

“I should get home, before the rain.”

“Verstanden.”

“You can come too.”

There’s an audible hiss of breath through his teeth, that peculiar look of agony crosses his face again… and finally, he weeps.

———

König, you think to call him.

He teaches you German from time to time, in turn for you allowing him to watch as you work away at the clocks. It feels fitting in a way. Not because he harbors the self-importance of a noble figure, nor his stature; he’s simply become something impossibly important in the week long span you’ve spent together now.

You’ve decorated the guest room properly for him, and in turn he’s brought you firewood, foraged and hunted so that neither of you have had to bother with the town. The fire raged in the hearth as the cold continues to set in, and your walks to town have been enjoyable now. He accompanies you to the hill on some nights, draws you a bath when you come home, even cooks.

So… maybe a king was not entirely appropriate, but calling him a servant certainly wasn’t either. Even with the way he seems to melt and become docile at the slightest brush of your hand, the way you know with a certainty he would die for you if you spoke the word.

And still, you call him König: the king of your heart.

There are flowers at your windowsill each morning, still clinging to their roots. You bake the bread while he cooks stew with herbs gathered from the little garden just beyond the walls of the home, one he’s graciously told you he’s wanted to expand for you. Books you’ve overlooked for years have been read end to end by him, and he especially seems to like those with art of flowers drawn into their pages, always seeking you out to show you, explain their meanings, expressing the beauty that he sees in them and within you.

You don’t know where he’s come from, what his life was like before this, and with the same respect that he gives to you… you don’t ask.

“We’re starting a new story,” you had said the first morning over a breakfast of hastily made apple dumplings. To which he had agreed, with a somber hum, nodding his hooded head.

Though you do wonder about his secrets, his face. Seeing him now is all it really takes to make you smile.

He comes through the door, hauling in the massive grandfather clock that a carriage had left only this morning. The bob and the lyre both appeared broken at a glance, but your heart sinks when you read the name on the note left attached to it.

The same petulant little man that had stomped that poor watch to pieces right in front of you, no doubt he had broken this one too in some sort of tantrum. What was it now? Had the poor clock chimes a bit too loudly during the night? Was that deserving of a foot lodged right into its heart?

“König, do you mind just leaving it there?” You gesture toward the middle of the room, watching as the muscles beneath his shirt don’t even seem to ripple from exertion.

“Natürlich.”

As you set to work, pulling away parts, straightening out bends and replacing what’s broken, he kneels at your side watching with rapt attention. There’s no fixing the pendulum bob entirely, it’s far too bent and scraped, but you wouldn’t be replacing that with work of your own either. The bastard gets what he gets and that will do.

In truth, your work since having König here has only improved, and perhaps you’re showing off a bit, but the way he watches you tinker with the dusty old things as if mesmerized fills you with pride. You could fix anything, yes, with him at your side you wanted to.

The house doesn’t echo wasted time anymore, only that crowding feeling of something buzzing and chirping, budding up in the spaces where shadows should crawl: love. You wouldn’t trade it for the loneliness to return, not ever. A new sort of fear that stings just as much as it does caress.

So you work in silence, only breaking it to answer the sparse questions that he throws out.

When the clock is shoddily finished, you wipe the oil from your hands on a rag, and take König’s own large arm as it’s offered out to you to stand.

“I will carry it for you tonight,” he suggests, delicately brushing a bit of dust from your sleeve. His touch does linger, always lingers, trailing up to massage at your shoulder and cup at your neck. The swell of heat that arrives at your face then, the press of your thighs beneath your skirt… it’s always the same.

“I thought that you didn’t want to go into town?”

Your shoulder meets his chest as you press against him, doing very little to calm your body’s frustrations. The blood within you stirs like a violent wave feeling him this near— cleaned up and dressed in some patchwork conglomerate of your father’s old clothes. He smells like a union between the earth and sea, salt and alder leaf, a hint of thyme and lavender.

His eyes glitter when his gaze roves from your face to chest, hand skittering down to curl at the small of your back. To anyone else, you would look the picture of husband and wife perhaps.

“I would go anywhere with you.”

A fresh normal, like the rise of spring, those words and touches that suggest more: threatening while you plead in silence for him to just give you a push, unlace your dress and finally feel and see him properly.

“Then… yes, let’s get the cursed thing out of here tonight.”

His grip tightens around you just for a moment, fingers curling and flexing into the soft linen covering you, bunching it up just so at your back before he relents, draws away.

“You dislike this one?” König sounds almost hurt, perhaps he favored it, being tall and similar to him in some way. Another odd thing, hard to place, but he’s never seemed to like you talking down about your own work, a habit that needed breaking.

“No,” you begin to explain, curling your arms around his middle as you both stare at the thing, ticking quietly before you, “its owner is just a pain.”

“I can tell. You seem nervous, meine geliebte.”

“You haven’t taught me that one yet,” you point out, not playing coy, despite the look he gives you that suggests you know.

There’s always that ache when his eyes narrow and that playful glint reaches them. How someone could look as though they’ve suffered dozens of lifetimes of pain and still have that look, you did not know, but it excites you. A furious, needy excitement.

“Beloved,” is all that he says.

The stare relents as he heads back out into the garden, leaving you to sort yourself out.

———

“You’re sure that you can carry it the entire way?”

It’s not that you could help, really. The thing must have weighed as much as yourself, strung up over König’s back with a rope he had found lying someplace in the garden.

“Ja, it’s fine.” He’s not out of breath in the slightest either. You realize then that if you put on all your charms bending, arching and delicately maneuvering your hands to fix the clocks, the assuredly this was his way of doing the same. You try to reign yourself in from staring at the damp spot on his shirt, clinging to his broad expanse of chest, the way that his thighs seem to tense with each step forward.

You can’t— you merely trail behind him until you take the lead to bring him right to the other man’s doorstep. Your hands find the ropes that keep the clock saddled to König’s back, carefully untying them as he stoops down to let its wooden legs rest against the ground below. It scrapes, the consequence of being so heavy and forced to stand on those four tiny legs, and only then does it decide to make a cacophony of noise signaling the new hour, a trilling sort of bong that makes even your ears ring as it breaks up the silence of the night.

You don’t even need to knock, because the door flies open immediately. The man stands proud, unperturbed by your giant companion as he shoves past you to inspect his clock. There are no greetings, no pleasantries, and if you were just a bit more careless with your reputation, smacking him would have only brought you satisfaction.

“Not good, but it will do,” the little man huffs, knocking at the glass casing over the clock’s face with his knuckle. “Be a dear and have your friend bring it in for me.”

You’ve no doubt that König senses your annoyance as he cocks his head at you, but when you give a curt nod in response, he does what’s requested. The clock is set in a large den. It’s not as opulent and gilded as you had expected, just a simple home housing a very infuriating man. You watch from the doorway, swaying on your feet as König rights the clock and pushes it where he’s directed. Just a few more seconds and the two of you would be well on your way, and perhaps he would even teach you a new curse for a man like that.

He comes uncomfortably close to König’s side, a smug look plastered over his face that only seems to exaggerate just how greasy and mousy that you know him to be. Something is whispered that you can’t quite make out, a dare, a mocking taunt, something that pisses you off even without the knowledge.

The hood is pulled off by thin fingers, cast aside to the floor beyond the pair.

The man’s face goes pale before you even get a glimpse of König at all. He backs away, mouth gaping as König calmly moves to retrieve the cloth. You think you hear the word “monster” mumbled amidst a slew of incoherent babbling, but when your companion turns to face you, you feel no fear.

König’s face is like patchwork, scars connecting all together. They run like small streams up from his jaw and over his chin, splitting his lip at the corner of his mouth and dancing up to his eye. The nose is broken in places, several times over likely, crooked with a bump that only seems strangely cute. The unkempt hair lining his jaw should be trimmed, but… there’s no monster here. Only a man who has seen and felt pains that you could not bring yourself to imagine.

His head dips when he notices your wide-eyes stare, a sort of shame hidden away behind strands of long, black hair. He shuffles out of the house and shuts the door behind him, standing rigid as he expects the worst, for you to wail and sob and gather a group of townsfolk to herd him far away with fire and stones.

You only take his hand.

“Let’s go home.”

He doesn’t bother to hide himself away again during the walk back, his hand remains in your hold, trembling every now and then and gripping you tighter as he struggles with the thoughts no doubt raging in his skull like a storm. You offer your comfort as you lean toward him, head pressed against his arm even as you turn the knob and step inside.

You warm a bath for him then, a task that is no easy feat. König does not offer his help, resigned to some belief that this is only a temporary pity.

He allows you to peel away his clothes, graze your fingers over his body, over the scars all with a barely contained creature scraping out from inside: the untamed bull that you can not see. You press a kiss there, over his heart, feel it’s beating against your lips, pulling away only when his thumb strokes your cheek.

Each new sight of him is just as wonderful as they have always been. It’s not that you take pleasure in seeing the way he must have suffered; the now healed bullet wound over his abdomen speaks volumes of just what people are capable of when met with the sight of something that they do not understand.

The questions burn at the back of your skull, bitten back as your jaw tightens.

You help him wash with soap and a soft cloth, carefully removing any patches of dirt and dust that have lingered despite his near-daily bathing since living beneath your roof. The rough beard is trimmed in full, until all that’s left is a trail of dark stubble lingering along his jaw, broken up by scars like thin spider silk that make up the entirety of his body.

His hair is a mess, too, matted and clinging to his skull in wild clumps. You’re gentle with the brush as you free the tangles, clipping at what can not be saved with sharpened scissors, and massaging at his scalp as he murmurs his approval. It’s such a subdued, gentle cooing from his chest, a purr almost that shatters your heart and forces it back into place instantly.

Whatever he was or was not, you were certain this stray had never felt a touch like your own, if he had ever been touched by human hands at all.

König seems to settle greatly once you’ve tended to him and it does seem to finally dawn on him that you’re not repulsed, you’ve touched most of his damaged body, and have only brought him the gentleness that should have been commonplace by now. This isn’t some elaborate torture method— it’s only tender.

“Your turn, hm?”

That, however, brings you pause. Your hands rest on his shoulder, carefully trying to loosen a stubborn knot when you abruptly still. As if that were all he needed for encouragement, his hands cinch your waist, pulling you up and over the rim of the tub as you whine your protests in hushed little hisses. All for naught, as you find yourself submerged below the waist.

“I’m still dressed,” you sulk as the water dampens your dress, now seated between his parted thighs.

König only gives a laugh in response as his arms encase you in another embrace, his head resting against the dip between your shoulder and neck as his chest is brought to press against your back.

“And you’re still mine.”

His fingers trail further down to the wet fabric billowing amidst the soft, lapping waves of the water, pulling it up until it rests just above your hips. There’s no tact, only a clumsy sort of desperation rarely seen upon men, especially not of his stature.

You allow him to loosen the strands of lace at your back, bring your clothing up and over your head to leave it resting and dripping over the rim, pooling below onto the boards of the wooden floor. Your undergarments follow to join the flooding pile of soaked linen and lace.

You’re flustered certainly, grateful for the water surrounding that conceals the warmth that echoes your fondness for this titan between your legs.

You even considered that he would be more shy, not… as eager to begin to wash you, and not with the cloth but with his own hands, nimbly moving over every dip and curve coating you in the slick residue of soap, leaving suds in its wake. He starts at your shoulders, breath growing heavy the more you soften and relax against his chest.

It’s only a matter of time before his hands find and cup your breasts, and you swear that you can feel the grin that splits his face as you melt further against him. König gropes at and massages you there, eager fingers deliberately stroking at your hardened nipples until you quiver and sigh.

You find purchase moving your arms to your sides to grasp at his biceps, muscles flexing as he works his way down your trembling abdomen to your mound, kissing at your shoulder as you purr your encouragement.

The praises that leave your lips come tight and barely restrained as a finger trails against your slit, moving up to circle your clit before diving back down to prod at you.

Your head is gently tilted back by his free hand, your face peppered in clumsy, messy kisses as a digit sinks into you. It’s lazy work, trying to find a rhythm with your squirming. He only seems satisfied when it presses further, curling against the spot that makes you mewl sweetest, and finally, he kisses you full on.

It’s delivered as sloppily as his fingering, any trailing thought left in your skull dims, fuzzy with sheer bliss as his thumb begins to pet at your clit in tandem with each push and drag of his index. It doesn’t help that you feel his own growing need, hard and hot against your lower back, throbbing with each sound pulled from your mouth, his hips jerking on occasion to drag his shaft against your backside.

“König, we should get out,” you murmur through a flood of heat that curls and urges and presses at your lower half to seek some satisfaction, have him bed you proper. “We can go to—“

His mouth meets yours again, hungrier and more determined than before, the water rolling with each flick of his thumb. In a mere moment you feel that heat stoke to an inferno, blazing from your stomach to cause your feet to kick out, water sloshing over the side of the tub as you ride out each passing wave of paradise crying openly into his mouth.

When your trembling does subside, he kisses your cheek and pulls you up from the water, wrapping you up in his arms. His stare remains ever burning, pupils blown to a coal black, dreamy in the way he slinks back just to drink you in further. You can’t keep track of all of the places his eyes seem to dart, which touch to settle on and relish as he paws at you from chest to rear, as if mesmerized that you are no mere illusion.

You’re giving him everything; no longer the king of simply a beating organ tucked beneath your breast, but your body, bed, wherever he chooses to conquer next, of all the things that he’s been deprived of.

“We will go to bed, beloved,” he rasps, sounding more present than ever. The nightmares lurking behind his eyes have long past now: all focus is turned to you. You’re the only thing that’s ever loved him in return. “We will… become one.”

“Have you ever…” Your own voice fails you now, the evident want between you two incapable of making this any less… tedious. It was tedious, a flighty feathered thing that seems keen on slipping out of your grasp at any moment. If it were to be his first, surely it should be special, somehow, someway. If it were not… you dreaded that thought, a bitter envy sours on your tongue until it’s shaken off.

“No,” he states simply, shrugging.

Though a sense of relief seems to flood you at that, you dare not show it. You will take him to your bed, climb atop him and show him how these things work, a slow sort of love and the rest could wait.

It was foolish to believe that König would settle for such a thing, wild and only temporarily tamed by your sweetness: he is entirely different the moment you’re herded into the bedroom. The desperation of his touches has faded out entirely, replaced with what feels almost like a rage.

He wouldn’t take out humanities sins on you, no, but he would years of brutal neglect have left him starved and it just so happens that you’re an outlet for it, something to feed from by way of spilling his soul and his seed all into you, taken back with the kisses and praises that would surely come after this union.

You’re unceremoniously pushed onto the bed, lying at your side as he climbs in behind you. He whispers his requests into your hair, even as his hand wraps to pull your thigh up before you can bless him with a nod in response. He struggles for a moment, parting your labia with the obscene, ridiculous thing that hangs between his legs. It drags over you in repetition, oiled like the clock cogs before the head of his cock finally finds the opening his finger explored only minutes earlier.

You almost expect him to break you right then, force you to take what your body— no body- had surely been made for, but he only thrusts the tip inside and gives you some time to adjust, roll your hips down centimeter by agonizing centimeter.

“You are… Does it hurt you..?” His voice is a breathless pant, trying to hold himself together despite the daze he’s found himself in, buried not even three inches into your cunt.

“No… you can move,” you breathe out, eyelids fluttering as you tilt you head to look at him over your shoulder.

König clings to you as he sinks further, grasping at your waist to pull your further down, sharp breaths hissed between gritting teeth as he delights in the way your womanhood grips at his shaft.

Just as before, there’s no rhythm to him, he takes the sounds that leave you as a direction, huffing into your ear words that your mind could not hope to translate. There’s an indulgence to it, shared between you both as his hand curls tighter against your thigh, spread open and accepting of the brutal pace he takes to have just a taste of what it feels to be a normal man.

His words falter at a point, when you feel your body tightening around him, sucking him in, closer, nearer as your head lolls back. The inferno from before pales in comparison to the blaze that overtakes you now, his voice strained with bliss as you begin to moan for him. With each drag and soar of his cock spearing you open, you’re only brought further to a glimpse of Eden. If this were the fall of man, you find you couldn’t question Eve for relishing in it.

“… you gave me a name,” he rasps, “A home…”

All at once that glimmer of heaven crashes down around you, bathes you in the glow of something lofty and holy as he pulls you close and drives himself to the hilt within you. The throbbing and pulsing of his length pulls you over just as his seed spills within, drips thick and flooding as your own sex drools in tandem, sharing a perfect rapture both clandestine and sacred. He gives you another generous thrust, ensuring that he’s carved a space inside no other man could ever hope to fill.

You fret when you find him weeping, quiet tears rolling down his pale cheeks to spill over your shoulder, but the gentle smile on his face is pacifying as you twist around to face him. “And now you have my love.”

“I’ll cherish it,” he murmurs, voice broken and pitiful as you’re maneuvered upward to rest against the feather-stuffed pillows against the headboard.

You curl against him, head resting on his chest, an arm draped over his waist. He takes your hand into his own, appraising it like the first time you properly met. Hands of a maker. Your mind wanders to significance in that statement, the things that needn’t be told are finding ways to curtain you anyhow when he speaks again.

“Could you fix me?” He asks, tracing over the calluses on your fingertips, still bathing in the afterglow.

The question, though you felt it coming, still hurts to hear him speak it: breathing life into a thought that should have never existed to begin with.

“There’s nothing to fix.” Though you speak true, though you know he feels your sincerity, his eyes are heavy when he looks to you again. “Why would you ask me that?”

The story that he tells you then is one of horror. From his maker down to the things he’s done, seen, felt: hated from the moment he woke into this strange world, the horrible loneliness that pushed and bedded down inside of him like acceptance never would. The people that he’s throttled in some desire to finally have someone like him; men, women, it made no difference. All of it is bared with only one message eternally prevalent: he has only ever wanted to be loved.

In truth, he was a monster. Not because he was given the instinctual urge to be, but because it was all he knew. Gnashing teeth from demons hurling that word out with every stone they threw, every shot and stab at his heart.

You listen, despite the way it hurts, pull him a little closer when he ends his tale with your meeting, how he knew you were the only blessing he would ever receive in his lifetime— however long that may be.

You were good at fixing broken things, but König never needed to be fixed. Only found.

———

“Now you’re supposed to say it,” you hum, as his hands reach to the hem of the hood— his- covering your face. They rove beneath the fabric, curling against the skin of your cheeks, tracing small patterns there, some rotations like the clocks, others the childish hearts scribbled into books.

“I vow to take you as my wife.”

“You’re bad at this.” You giggle when he does finally push the cloth up past your nose, above your eyes and further until it’s pulled back like a veil.

“I will love you endlessly,” he continues, returning your noise of elation with a huffed laugh of his own. “I already do.”

“I love you, too.”

No one in town would ever properly marry you two, not if one look could make a weak man fall to his knees in horror, but here, beneath the roof of a home once echoing the same voice that haunts him… it was good enough. The moon seems to echo your vows with dancing rays, stars twinkling in approval as the calls of night birds carry through the open window.

There are no rings, no written formalities to be stored away with dust-ridden papers, preyed upon by mites. It’s far more sacred, genuine than the flippant affairs and arrangements that go on with those that would so readily cast the both of you aside. In truth— the thought of them rarely comes; doesn’t even rile up that intense fear inside of you any longer.

Everything only seems easier with the blooming garden outdoors, and the man who gazes upon you like he sees divinity itself behind your eyes, in the softness of your flesh.

When you kiss, it’s something from a fairytale, flowers strewn at your feet and the veil removed from your hair by a gentle hand.

Eden doesn’t seem so much like a memory lost to time, after all.

#könig x reader #könig x you #konig x reader #konig x you #könig #konig #cod fanfiction

999 notes · View notes

kana-de · 1 month

Text

hollow.

⭒ summary: arlecchino comes to your lands in hope of getting your gnosis non-violently. having hidden feelings for the harbinger, you offer a bargain, which she ends up accepting. it hurts both of you in the end.

⭑ cw: suggestive (no nsfw). angst. a lot of angst. angst no comfort (i warned you). hidden feelings. archon!reader. reader and arle both feel, and i mean feel.

⭒ wc: 3.4k.

⭑ a/n: oh wow. hi. this is like, the first fic i've written that was so long. ended up beta reading it with grammarly for two straight days. also tried improving my writing style, hope it looks like it lol. please like and reblog !!

"so, lady arlecchino," you started. your gaze remained cold but calm despite the inner hesitation you were feeling while facing the harbinger. "what business do you have in my lands?"

an unexpexted visit of the fatui delegation along with the fourth harbinger visiting her homeland was quite the news to you this morning. having no other choice than to face them, and you knew precisely why she would visit, hearing the news from the archons of other regions from last months.

it scared you, in some way. but you were expecting they would eventually reach you.

arlecchino slowly lowered herself into her own comfortable chair opposite of you before looking at you again. her face became expressionless again.

"It's a pleasure to see you too, miss [name]," she retorted in the same calm manner, despite her words clearly having a mocking undertone somewhere deep down. her eyes studied you as she continued, hearing you not reacting to her words.

you didn't change much from the last time she saw you. she didn't want you to, anyway. the same eyes, hair, accessories, manners... so on. she remembered every little detail.

"miss [name], do you really think you can rule this region on your own for the rest of eternity?" arlecchino suddenly asked, crossing her legs and arms simultaneously as she leaned back in her seat, seemingly making herself very much comfortable.

you blinked in confusion, head tilting the slightest bit. the woman had the dignity to let a corner of her lips raise upward at your reaction. she knew this "start" of the conversation wasn't what you expected.

"...i'm sorry?" you asked, not quite getting the meaning of the question.

"i'm sure you've already guessed what i'm here for. what i'm getting at is..."

arlecchino leaned forward in her chair, her eyes studying you. her face became expressionless once again, but a dark half-smile was painted on it. her voice became slightly threatening, nearly causing goosebumps to run across your skin. she knew your exterior wouldn't be cracked so easily - you're tough; much tougher than many people she's met in her life. but this was a start.

"...what do you want in exchange for your gnosis?" the question was almost a demand. she simply voiced her intentions - get your gnosis, and it wasn't an invitation of any sort.

your eyes narrowed, eyeing arlecchino. what is this? a negotiation? it does sound like one. but is that really it?

"and when did i mention something about giving up my gnosis, lady arlecchino?" you asked calmly.

"don't pretend you don't understand."

arlecchino's voice now held the slightest hint of threat to it, but her face became a little kinder and she continued in a more calm and friendly tone. or she only intended for it to sound friendly. uh, these diplomat things.

"i think we both know perfectly well what I want to hear from you; a clear answer. why don't we come to an agreeable conclusion and you'll give up your gnosis to me? certainly with no harm, you have my promise," she said, her voice getting a more expectant undertone as she spoke the last words, then looked at you in anticipation of the answer.

you leaned back in your seat, unsure of what to make of this whole 'visit'. it was suspicious, you couldn't deny it, but the pull towards the forbidden was finally getting to you, and your bottled-up for centuries-on-end feeling might be getting outside right at this moment.

this is an opportunity you have once in a life, your heart screamed at you. use it.

despite floating somewhere deep in your thoughts, you could easily feel as if arlecchino kept trying to burn a hole in you. and her eyes - especially the shape and color of her pupils - weren't helping either. she did look intimidating like this, but nonetheless, she was willing to wait. at least for now.

you weren't the type to risk, but...

so, an opportunity.

"now, what was that you said about getting something in exchange?" you inquired, exhaling a soft, quiet breath as you got out of your mind. shouldn't have entered it in the first place, you thought. too much of everything.

arlecchino smiled and her eyes gleamed a strange glint you couldn't quite decipher what meant.

"oh, it's good that you're interested," her voice became inviting again, almost soothing, but behind the façade was clearly a not-so-hidden intention. "i wouldn't want to use force against you if this escalated any more."

"of course i wouldn't just take your gnosis from you. i am a woman of honor and deal, miss [name]. if you'll give your gnosis to me i will, of course, give you something in return," she leaned back in her chair and stared straight into your eyes.

"would you like to hear what i would offer you?"

"no," you instantly replied, dismissing the woman. "i already have something i want to ask of you. but first..." you looked around the room, noticing a few fatui soldiers standing here and there. you didn't need extra ears from here anymore. "i need them to leave us alone."

arlecchino's lips curled slightly upward, resembling a smile.

"i see no problem in that. if you're planning on saying something personal, they don't need to witness this conversation."

she glanced at her soldiers and then turned her gaze back to you. the fatui left the room instantly, with no further words said.

"and now to the important part: what can i offer you in exchange for the gnosis, miss [name]?"

you kept silent for at least a minute. you licked your lips, then let your teeth bite down into her lower lip as you thought. arlecchino already seemed to notice one thing that stood out the most - you hesitated.

a deep inhale and the same deep exhale.

"my offer is..." you started slowly, eyes drawn to the table. you simply just couldn't bring yourself to look the woman in the eyes when saying what you were going to say. "we spend the night. together," you said, knowing that she clearly understands what you're talking about.

"and in the morning, i will grant you my gnosis, and we won't have any more business together after that."

silence.

this was precisely what arlecchino was hoping to hear from you.

she raised an eyebrow after a few moments of processing your words, expecting something like this, but still surprised by such a straightforward proposition. however, she quickly regained her composure, leaning back in her seat.

she knew where you were getting with this. she knew you craved this since you both ever saw each other. this was seemingly what you and her needed, but it was so much more complicated than just that.

she also knew that you would hurt so much the next morning, after giving up that gnosis, if she accepted this deal.

for the first time in a while, arlecchino felt torn by the thought of someone being hurt. surprisingly, it's you she was thinking about at that moment.

"my, my... i must admit such a proposal from you is a shock to me. so bold of you to assume that i would accept your deal so easily," she gave you a look, which held the tiniest bit of sympathy and compassion. she had mixed feelings about this.

"however, i'm indeed sure that you mean no harm, especially to me. so, i'll accept your offer on one condition."

she accepted it, immediately flashed in your mind. she accepted it almost instantly. your heart seemed to take a leap, no, a thousand of those as your eyes widened at the realization.

what was going on between the two of you?

you finally found the courage to look up at the woman. hearing no further elaboration, but wanting to hear it right now, you pried further, "that condition being..?"

arlecchino's eyes found yours, as if trying to read you from the outside, and she leaned in closer to the table separating the two of you.

"we keep this a secret," she said, eyes narrowing slightly and voice becoming nearly a whisper. "from the fatui and from everyone else."

"do we have a deal?"

you nodded. "i thought it's only logical that we keep it a secret. so, of course," you continued, eyes focusing on the woman. you didn't want to look away from her for a second, afraid she might disappear. "we have a deal."

a small smile played on arlecchino's lips as she gave a slight nod of satisfaction in response to the fact that you agreed so eagerly. her voice became slightly louder now, as if to not cause any suspicion if someone were to listen from the outside.

"very well. i accept your terms. and i give you my word to keep this... arrangement, a secret from everyone else," she said. her piercing gaze met yours, but the smile on her lips did not disappear.

"where would you like to meet, miss [name]?"

—

you didn't know how you both made it to your room, but the second the front door was closed and secured with a 'click' of the lock, arlecchino's lips crashed onto yours, as well as you found your back to quickly meet the wall.

there were lips biting one another, hands everywhere, tongues intertwining, your own heartbeat loud in your ears as you kissed, your hand shooting up to grab the back of arlecchino's neck... and you were hoping to forget about the gnosis just for this night. just for the duration of these hours.

just for one night. and then it'll all be over in her morning.

arlecchino's lips felt soft and warm as they pressed against your own. her tongue gently licked your lower lip, teeth tugging at it slightly as her hands roamed all over you. she didn't seem to want to pressure you into something, but she wanted to show you how much she wanted this, too. she then broke the kiss to catch her breath, eyes gleaming with hunger for more, despite the softness in them.

her fingers tangled in your hair as she looked deep into your eyes, "you're even more beautiful than i imagined."

with those words arlecchino pulled you closer, pressing herself against you, as her lips found their way to your neck, kissing her way down to your cleavage, before finding her way back onto your lips.

you felt like you were suffocating; suffocating in arlecchino. in her touch, lips, breath, and in your own sensations of all of the above.

"not here," you managed to whisper out breathily, already panting. you were sure your lips were already red and swollen from all of this. "left door."

arlecchino's lips came back to trailing kisses down your neck, biting softly in some places, but she seemed to obey you. her hands seemed to settle on your waist as she led you to the said left door.

"are you sure?" she whispered in your ear, her lips brushing against the skin there, and you immediately felt shivers crawling down your spine.

"are you sure you want this?"

"are you?" you asked in return, words barely a whisper, brows furrowed a small bit as if you yourself contemplated your choice.

you didn't. not for a single second.

"i am."

with that, arlecchino pulled you closer to herself again and claimed your lips once again. it was a hungry kiss, filled with passion and desire and maybe, just maybe, a little bit of longing.

"i want you," she whispered against your lips before kissing them again. the sound of your heartbeat was so loud that you were sure the woman could almost hear it in her own ears. her hands wandered over to your shoulders, pushing you through the door and into your bedroom, and she pushed the door with her leg to close it.

"all of you... i want all of you," arlecchino murmured, letting her lips detach from yours for a split second, eyes finally meeting yours, seeing all the need and yearning in yours.

she craved this a lot, but she knew you craved it more.

"then have all of me," you whispered in reply, ignoring the fact that the loud pounding of your heart in your ribcage seemed to reach the limit of its loudness, almost drowning out all other sounds. you pulled her along with you, your back falling onto the bed with a soft thud, leaving the woman to settle on your hips and watch you from above.

if arlecchino was sure, then you were also sure. you knew it wasn't how that worked, but you could let yourself forget that just for tonight.

arlecchino seemed like she was about to pounce on you, the hunger and lust in her eyes increasing rapidly as she watched the rise and fall of your chest; the way your breath would increase as she looked in your direction. her eyes wandered over your body, taking in every curve, every muscle, and every movement you made. her own breathing became slightly more ragged and she licked her lips.

"you're so beautiful," came out as a soft whisper, arlecchino's eyes now resembling a newfound tenderness that wasn't there before.

she leaned in closer, warm breath caressing your neck, her scent filling the air around you as her palms settled on your cheeks and jaw, thumbs caressing the skin mindlessly.

"may i?"

gods, she still asked for consent.

you exhaled shakily while realizing that; that she didn't want it to be just a decision in the heat of the moment. it warmed your heart, even if a little bit.

"anything."

arlecchino suddenly felt loved and wanted, and it was almost the same feeling that she always wanted to feel from no one but you.

you were giving yourself up to her for one night, and she was going to make it count.

she kissed you like it was the last kiss of her life. she kissed you deeply, heartfeltly, lovingly, and with such intensity that it was like you two were the only people in the world, and both your and her touch screamed please, don't let me go.

—

you awoke just as the sun had begun to rise, the light from it shining through the curtains and onto the bed. the woman beside you shifted, too, seemingly being already awake for a little while.

arlecchino had watched you for a little bit while you slept. it was a sight she couldn't tear her eyes from away even if she wanted to. duties and titles long forgotten, this was what she wanted to see every day.

you blinked as the light found your eyes, rubbing them for a few seconds before focusing your gaze on the woman on the other side of the bed. neither of you spoke, for now.

you sat up on the bed, having the blanket cover up your naked, marked, loved body. arlecchino followed your every move, eyes only once wandering down to your back and back up to your face.

your heart hurt at the realization that it was already morning.

the night had ended.

you didn't want it to be over so fast.

looking down at the woman, you averted your eyes, feeling the need to blink away the sting of tears threatening to find their way out. one of your hands moved up, palm facing upwards. your fingers trembled as you exhaled shakily.

you got lost in your thoughts for a few moments. what if arlecchino won't take the gnosis? was that even possible in a situation like this?

certainly not, you must be daydreaming of some kind of hope.

glowing a soft light, floating up and down over your hand was your gnosis.

you stared at it, not blinking, then stared a little more, and then your hand shifted and offered the gnosis to arlecchino.

it was over. as simple as that.

arlecchino's breath hitched as she sat up to have a look at the small, glimmering chess piece. her hand slowly reached out and she took the gnosis from your hand, her fingers closing around it. she examined it closely, as if making sure it was real. to you, she looked satisfied with your deal.

"thank you very much, miss [name]."

you immediately noticed the change in tone. it became professional in just a few moments, leaving you confused.

she then stood up from the bed and started to put on her clothes. it was the sign that the deal was over and that her mission was complete. she didn't even look back at you, you thought. oh.

"well then... i guess my work here is done."

"...i guess it is," you could only reply quietly, eyes rooted to the woman's back as she got dressed.

you noticed the change in the woman's attitude, in her voice, and your heart basically shattered. it was like there were no kisses shared between you two just hours before, no compliments whispered, no intimate connections made. like the night before never existed.

you were just another mission.

of course it would be like this, you thought. you were the first to suggest that you both will never see each other again after this, and you were the one to fall for all of this.

but it still stung.

"you never meant it," you whispered in the end, realizing those words spoken and whispered so intimately were, apparently, just in a haze of situation. how predictable. you fell for that yet again.

arlecchino paused for a moment before she picked up her remaining clothes and turned to face you. her gaze was cold and emotionless, but she hesitated, before her expression purposefully changed into a more serious expression.

she needed to make you feel like she didn't have any feelings for you. it would be better for both of you. no bonds. no strings attached. she never wanted you to pine for her, as she was certainly not the one you needed to have beside her.

an archon and a harbinger. comical.

"i was agitated," arlecchino replied, voice turning back to previous hardness and flatness, zipping up her pants.

she hated saying the next words.

"you were just a means to an end."

pause.

your chest hurt. your eyes stung.

you wished you'd never heard any of this. you weren't ready to hear any of this. but now, these words will surely be engraved into your memory.

you didn't reply, and thus, there was silence. a loud one at that.

arlecchino felt the said silence like no other. she knew she'd achieved what she wanted just by witnessing your reaction.

you didn't stop looking in the direction where the woman was getting ready. neither did you react, just blinking away the tears from her eyes, preventing them from appearing.

your chest suddenly felt hollow, and not because of the gnosis that was no longer there.

arlecchino finished getting dressed quickly, since the silence in the room was getting more and more uncomfortable. it was a sign of your defeat, and she hated the realization of that.

she wanted to say something. wanted to take it back. to hug you. to kiss you again. to make love to you again. she wanted to tell you that she had fallen in love with you and that she wished everything was different.

but she knew that she would only end up hurting you more if she did so.

"i will be taking my leave."

you bit your lip hard enough to draw blood just trying to hold back your tears. your emotions. you weren't allowed to feel, but you felt, and it was suffocating you, dragging you towards the bottom.

"good job," you could only mutter, voice barely a whisper, gaze shifting back to the blanket.

arlecchino felt so much guilt for the words she had said. she knew how much pain those words were causing you, but she couldn't take them back even if she wanted to. the hurt was necessary.

she wanted nothing more than to go over to you, pull you into her arms, comfort you, and whisper how much she loves and cares for you. she wanted to apologize to you; wanted to tell you how sorry she was for hurting you.

but she didn't. she couldn't, because no one could know about the true feelings she had for you.

not even you.

so she just got dressed in silence, the weight of your gnosis in her pocket feeling heavier with every moment that passed. it's not like she could do anything other than that.

you heard arlecchino's hand placing itself on the door handle, and the woman paused momentarily, eyed wandering over to your form on the bed, scenes of the previous night flashing in front of her eyes as she looked at you.

the door clicked open, and she took one step outside your room before speaking her last words to you.

"it was a pleasure doing business with you, miss [name]."

the door closed.

443 notes · View notes

wongyuuu · 2 months

Text

lens of ice | yjh | two (final)

pairing: jeonghan x f!reader genre: figure skater jeonghan, light angst, a little fluff, these people are just in soo love, smut word count: 17k summary: jeonghan has only one chance left to make it to the olympics. as he embarks on this decisive journey, you, a documentarist, are set to follow him as he seeks the ultimate glory. warnings: minors do not interact, kissing, masturbation (f) a/n: i can't belive i actually managed to finish this one! i started to write it maybe in october and it took me forever but here it is. again, thank you to @ressonancee for giving me the idea and putting up with my shit💓

part one || part two (final)

The thought of going back on your word crossed your mind, truthfully. You weren’t even sure why you said yes to dinner with Jeonghan in the first place.

It was a recipe for disaster. It was the only way you could possibly describe the situation, to begin with. The flirting had gotten out of hand, to the point where Seungkwan was already angry and had said “if he grows balls big enough to ask you out, please say yes, this tension is annoying”. Vernon had agreed.

When you heard that from Seungkwan, you thought that he was crazy, that he had completely lost his mind. While it was safe to say that you had developed a crush on Jeonghan, something completely inappropriate in your work, it was hard to tell where he stood.

You liked to think that from day one you were able to say what was on Jeonghan’s mind. You had been able to say that he was holding back on his answers and you called him out on his shit, something that proved to be very efficient, because after that he started to answer all of your questions with honesty. Or at least, you liked to think that he was.

It never really crossed your mind that Jeonghan might have some sort of interest in you. You thought that he was flirting more for sport than for anything else.

The rumors ran around, about how he was sort of a player but he was careful not to date any other skater. Not to create a sense of discomfort, someone had said on a forum online.

It was something that you had yet to ask him. About his love life. And there were two main reasons for that: 1) you didn’t know if it was something that he wanted to talk about and unless he had a wife or a serious girlfriend, it mattered very little to the documentary; 2) you didn’t want to know the answer.

It had never happened to you like that before. You had done so many interviews, went to many places, met so many different people, and not a single one of them was able to captivate you quite as Jeonghan had.

You knocked on the door and waited. A second later, Jeonghan opened the door. You had grown too used to seeing him in comfortable clothes, shirts that were way too big for him, sweats. The only piece of clothing that showed any shape of his body were the pants he used to practice and even then, everything was hidden under a large hoodie.

The man in front of you had tailored pants and a dress shirt on, the sleeves folded back, revealing his arm.

You cleared your throat, suddenly unaware of what to say.

“I was thinking you had given up,” he said with a smile, almost uncertain.

You shook your head immediately.

“There was a lot of traffic today, it’s a friday after all”

It was indeed friday but there wasn’t as much traffic as you made it seem. The truth was that you were late to leave your apartment. Just as you were leaving you got cold feet and sat down on the couch for about twenty minutes, wondering if you were doing the right thing.

What if whatever happened that night, let it be good or bad, affected your job? Realistically speaking, there was no way that it wouldn’t. If it turned out to be a bad date, then things could get awkward. And if it turned out to be good you simply wouldn’t know how to handle yourself or him.

“Sorry that I didn’t take you out, out. And this is all that I had to offer”

He took a step to the side, giving you enough space to walk in. Although you had been to his home many times and sort of knew how it looked from the heart, it felt different to walk in without having Seungkwan and Vernon at your back, carrying one too many bags of gear. The place looked all too different and familiar at the same time.

“No, this is great actually” you smiled at him.

Your smile grew bigger once you saw the table he had set. The room was half lit by candles, in the center of the table was a small vase with fresh flowers, the city behind the window a perfect canvas. A bottle of wine waited for the two of you and the plates, delicate porcelain, were set. Instead of sitting opposite each other, Jeonghan made it so that you were both facing the window.

“You said you liked the night view,” he said while scratching the back of his head.

You turned to him, smiling, wanting to reassure him that it was perfect.

“I really do,” you said softly “Did you cook?”

The apartment smelled heavenly. It was the smell of homemade food if you still even knew what that was like. At least you had never ordered food that smelled like that. Maybe ordering was something that you weren’t that good at, or maybe Jeonghan was just one of those people who went above and beyond even when just ordering.

“I did,” he said proudly “I don’t know if it tastes good, but I followed the recipe to the T”

He pulled the chair out for you, his smile sweet while he watched you.

The little butterflies on your stomach found life again, suddenly floating around. You wanted to face-palm yourself. Just a few months before you thought the worst about Jeonghan and suddenly there you were, saying yes to a date with him, your heart hammering inside your chest.

With one of his hands still on the back of our chair, Jeonghan reached for the bottle of wine, pouring some of it into the glass in front of you.

You expected him to sit by your side but he took a step back, making a turn to the kitchen. You started to get up to follow him, but Jeonghan came back and pushed you onto the chair again.

“Let me help you,” you laughed, looking up at him.

Jeonghan scrunched his nose at you and shook his head.

“You stay right here. I’m just going to bring the food out”

He squeezed your shoulder before moving to the kitchen.

You rested your chin on your hand, looking at the city in front of you. There were very few parts of town that had such a beautiful view, not that you were one to enjoy looking at lit-up buildings. But maybe it was the moment, it was the way the way your skin tingled where Jeonghan’s fingers had touched you. You pressed a hand to your chest, urging your heart to calm down a little.

You liked to think that you were only feeling that way because it had been a long time since you had dated someone, since anyone had shown real interest in you, since you wanted to get to know someone past the work environment.

There was a little movement to your right before Jeonghan came back into the room. He set the dish in front of you and while you weren’t too sure what it was — it looked like some kind of stew — it smelled and looked amazing.

“I have to admit that I don’t usually cook a lot, or at all most times” he laughed “Most times someone comes in and cooks enough for a week or two, following the diets I have to be on. So all I have to do is take it out of the freezer and eat”

You watched as he set the dish in front of you, steam coming out of it, and put some on the place in front of you. He did the same for himself before finally sitting by your side.

“I never saw someone around here, besides Joshua”

You took a sip of the wine before taking the spoon in your hand.

“She usually comes when I’m out for practice, or in these past few months…” Jeonghan was in the middle of his sentence when he saw your writhed face “What’s wrong?”

“I’m really sorry,” you said, covering your mouth with both hands, trying to hold back your laugh.

Jeonghan looked at you, laughing too, but he was in complete disbelief.

“It can’t be this bad” he reached for his spoon.

You were already laughing when Jeonghan started to cough, taking a large gulp of the wine. How had he managed to fuck up so bad was beyond him. He followed the recipe to the details but somehow it tasted bitter.

“Did you taste it, at all?”

“I… no?”

He groaned when you started to laugh at him again but somehow ended up right along with you.

“I swear I followed the recipe,” he said again.

He wanted to have a nice date with you and get to know you better. Although it wasn’t going exactly as he had planned, seeing you laugh like that, so loudly and carefree somehow made it all worth it. Jeonghan made a mistake that he shouldn’t have, one that with someone else would have turned the night into a complete disaster but with you, it became something to laugh about.

And Jeonghan loved the sound of your laugh. Since he met you on that first day, he wondered what it would be like to hear it. You had gone off on him, baring guns in both hands, your hostility screaming at him the entire time.

He had done his best, or at least he thought he did. However, on the very next day, you called him off on his shit and said that the footage they had was unusable because he hadn’t been honest enough.

Jeonghan hadn’t been honest enough with anyone, ever. He wasn’t even sure that he was honest with himself. He always worried about whether or not he was able to move forward. Pushing forward was one thing, actually living was another one, entirely too different.

Throughout most of his life, Jeonghan only knew how to push forward, like a bull. The world around him mattered very little, the people around him mattered even less.

Somewhere along the way, Jeonghan became all too obsessed with numbers and the love he had for the sport became a shadow. Even then, when he was doing everything in his power to make it to the next Olympics, his last, he wasn’t really sure it was something he still wanted or if he was doing all of that simply because it became second nature to him.

Skating was like breathing but it had become awfully painful to do so.

And then you came in and for the first time, he wanted to impress someone. Who he already was, or the version of him he showed, did nothing for you. You looked bored most of the time. Talking with Seungkwan about it had made things clear in his mind. And he felt it in the way the original direction of the documentary had changed.

It wasn’t just about the sport anymore, how he was healing to make it to the competition. It truly became about him.

“Maybe something was rotten, don’t worry about it” you patted his hand, reassuringly.

Jeonghan saw a chance and he took it, holding your hand. For a second your fingers stilled in his, your eyes a little wide looking back at his. He almost pulled away from you, his dropping a little when you didn’t seem to want his touch.

Then your eyes grew a little softer and ever so lightly you held his hand back.

“I really wanted to have a nice dinner with you, though”

You couldn’t help but smile at his cute pout.

“Maybe we could order something?” you pointed at the wine in front of you “In my experience, wine and pizza are a great combo”

You were the first one in the office, which was a first for you. Not that you were someone who was constantly late. It was just that you were usually the last one to leave.

However, sleep wasn’t something that came to you. You were too giggly, your mind wandering through places that normally it didn’t so you thought that working a little was maybe a good idea to take your mind off things.

Not things. Someone.

Yoon Jeonghan.

Despite the initial accident, the night had been nothing but perfect. When was the last time you had fun? Actual fun, not the kind you sort of force yourself to have not to bother others, or to try to fit in some sort of situation.

The night with Jeonghan had been so easy. Conversation simply floating around you. You didn’t feel like you were there to interview him or to be interviewed. You were just talking, getting to know each other in a way that was so entirely different from how things had gone between the two of you until then.

Jeonghan, you learned, was a menace in school and with his sister, always playing pranks and still somehow managing to get away every single time. I could make such an innocent face and everyone would just fall for it, he said at some point. There was no hint of regret in his voice and his eyes were filled with mischievousness while he talked.

“There were these kids who made fun of me because I was a small kid. I tried to let it go but it went on for months. One day,” he said smiling, the memory of the day still completely fresh in his mind “I was already angry that I couldn’t make a move, I don’t even remember what it was, to be honest. They kept picking on me, saying these snarky comments so I waited. One of them left his bag behind, with his skates hanging off of them. I filled both of them with boiling water. I still remember his mother screaming at him”

You gasped, sort of laughing but also a little bit in shock at the mind of a 9-year-old. But awfully dangerous too, for both of them.

“What if he put the skates on?”

It was hard to mask the horror in your voice

“It was after practice, while we waited for our parents to pick us up. He left his skates back and went to play because his mom was late. I just wanted to ruin his skates, not for him to get hurt. I took his takes to the kitchen, poured the water in, and let it sit there for about ten minutes before I put his bag back where I found it”

Your laugh was too spontaneous and Jeonghan couldn’t help but laugh along. Since the moment he saw you for the first time, he thought of you as beautiful but watching you laugh, so openly and carefree was breathtaking. His heart behaved in a way that he didn’t see coming.

“I think we need to send you to a doctor because I refuse to believe you’re normal”

Suddenly just holding your hand wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He wanted to kiss you, he wanted to know what it would feel like to press against yours and have you want it too. His mind, he had decided long before he even met you, was the kind that liked to play tricks. So maybe it was playing a trick and it came up with the thought that you wanted to kiss him too. Maybe he was imagining that your eyes moved from his eyes to his lips from time to time.

He wanted to make the first move, he knew that if he didn’t the chance of you doing it was very little. At the same time, he was scared that it might push you too far. You had gotten surprised enough when he held your hand.

Realistically he knew that it wasn’t much but the two of you worked together and there was still so much more to do, the Olympics were still months away. And although you weren’t going to see each other every single day in those months, you would still have enough meetings.

So what if he read it all wrong and things suddenly became awkward again? The last thing he wanted to do was go back to how it was when you first time. You had been cold and distant but for an entirely different reason.

“Jeonghan?” your voice had been the quiets he had ever heard from you “It might be the wine talking so if I do say something weird please blame it on the alcohol and tomorrow we pretend that I never said anything at all”

He looked the the two bottles already empty and the third one by the middle. It was, indeed, a lot of wine.

“Is everything okay?”

You sighed, eyes closed for a second before finally looking at him again.

“I need you to kiss me, okay?” you said exasperated “Because if you don’t I don’t think I…”

Jeonghan’s lips were on yours before you even finished what you were saying. He hoped that it was along the lines of I don’t think I will.

Your lips, he decided right then, were his favorite thing in the entire world. He loved that when he pressed harder you made way for him, your lips parted to give him full access. Your hand moved from his chest, up to his shoulder, and then the nape of his neck, lightly tugging at his hair. And when you let out a small whimper on the back of your throat he swore his entire world almost became undone.

The night had turned, somehow, into a make-out session. The two of you ended up on his couch, hands all over each other and bubbling laughter. And you refused to complain. It was everything you wanted and then so much more.

Leaving had been so hard. All you wanted to do was to lose yourself in Jeonghan and all that he was and that silently promised to be, even if it was just for one night. You had to force yourself to leave and Jeonghan didn’t make it easier for you. If anything, he did his best to make it as hard as possible.

He went down with you, and waited for the cab by your side, your hand tucked inside the pocket of his jacket while he played with your fingers.

“You could let me take you back” you looked at him, eyebrows raised “I don’t mean driving but I could get in the cab with you and then come back”

“That’s just a waste of time. I’ll text you once I get home, I promise”

It was clear that your answer wasn’t the one he wanted but it was the only one he was going to get. He pulled you closer to him while you waited for the cab. The position was awkward you didn’t want to move, not in the least.

You were there for a couple of minutes before the taxi finally pulled up by your side. Jeonghan opened the door for you and waited for you to get inside.

“Sir, I may not look like it, but I am crazy. So I hope you can get her some safe and sound”

The driver looked at you from his rearview mirror, eyes wide.

“He really is” you played along “He once threw hot water at a kid”

Jeonghan laughed, a little too hysterically, too much wine you were sure. He stuck his head through the window and quickly kissed you.

“Seriously, text me as soon as you get home”

With a groan, you hid your face in your hands, knowing fully well that the warmth in your cheeks didn't come from the weather but from the memory of Jeonghan. You laughed a little, remembering how you had to assure the driver that Jeonghan wasn't actually crazy and that he had never thrown hot water at a child. The man didn't seem to believe you but that mattered very little.

You were overflown with a sort of happiness that was new and also so very scary.

That giddiness was something you always wanted to feel, but never actually got around to it. Your previous boyfriends, not that there were many of them, never really managed to get that much of a reaction out of you. That was not to say that you didn’t like them at all, because you did. You wouldn’t have stayed with them for a second too long if there were no feelings at all involved.

Your feelings for them, however, were so small compared with the way you felt about Jeonghan. It was one date, just one night, and it felt as if your entire life had changed in a way you thought that there would be no coming back from.

“You’re early,” someone said behind you.

You felt as if your soul had just left your body when your entire body jumped at the new sound. You had been so lost in your thoughts that you failed to notice Seungkwan walking in and of course, Vernon right behind him.

“Jesus, what the fuck” you ran your hands over your face before turning around to face him.

Like most mornings, Seungkwan had a coffee in his hand and his phone in the other one. Come to think of it, you weren’t sure you had ever seen him without a coffee in his hands. You weren’t sure how someone could drink so much coffee and still function but then again, he was drinking iced americano most times and the coffee in there had so much water that you were sure most of the caffeine was deluded so…

“So…” he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

God, you hated the fact that he knew. Behind him, Vernon also had an expectant face. Of course, he too wanted to know. The problem was that you didn’t want either of them to know. It was something you wanted to keep to yourself, locked behind countless doors. And maybe, just maybe, if you were lucky enough you’d get to savor that feeling again if a second date with Jeonghan ever happened.

“Do you want to go over something or we can just… you know, work?”

“Aaah” he complained, carefully setting his coffee on his desk before spinning your chair until you turned to him “You can’t leave me in the dark like this”

“Us, actually,” Vernon said, doing the best he could to hide his smile.

You had always thought that Vernon was someone who was on the quieter side of the world. Mostly he kept to himself but when paired with Boo Seungkwan? The man could be just as troublesome as the other one. Pair that with the fact that both of them were good friends who often went out together and you’d get yourself a perfect mix for a gossip disaster.

Seungkwan, as the one who is so friendly everyone just wants to spill their deepest secrets because he looks like someone who’d always offer crazy advice.

Vernon, as the quiet one everyone wants to tell their secrets because he looks like someone who’d keep all of them just to himself.

The one thing everyone seems to forget is the fact that those two are friends and they talk. Hopefully only amongst themselves but you weren’t willing to bet on it. There was no way you’d want people to know that you went out with the one person who you were working with. The celebrity, most of all.

“I’m not saying a word” you just shook your head and moved away from him "We have a lot of work to do, so get going".

“You’re not saying a word about what exactly?” Jihoon said, coming up from behind Seungkwan.

The younger man looked somewhat in distress, his eyes wide going from you to Jihoon, then back to you again. It was at that moment you realized that he had never really crossed your mind, in any way while you were Jeonghan, ever. He wasn’t even an afterthought or anything of the sort. He wasn’t even your boss. Jihoon was no one.

“I went on a date last night, that’s all”

It was as if you were the one entering the ice, the one who was being watched by so many eyes. Instead, you were one of the people watching. Your legs were shaking up and down, up and down, and there was no real way for you to stop it from happening. You felt as if your future was the one in line, not Jeonghan’s.

To you, the only real consequence of him not making it was that that documentary would be canceled, for him it meant that everything he had worked for was lost and his last opportunity would never come.

So, the reality of it was that you were nervous for him. Because you had finally gotten a real glimpse of Jeonghan and you knew how much it meant to him, all of it. He downplayed it, yes, but it was on everything he didn’t say.

You could see it in his eyes whenever he mentioned figure skating, which was surprisingly very little when you didn’t have a camera on his face. It was clear in the practiced every single movement with such care, always aiming for precision, in an almost healthy way.

Jeonghan downplayed it a lot but the sport meant everything to him.

You sat in the bleachers, Seungkwan to your left and Vernon to your right. The three of you hadn’t gotten permission to be closer to the ice, or anywhere near really. Athlete after athlete performed, every single one of them doing so well that you felt your heart start to beat in a mismatched way.

Your stomach was tied in knots, a lump on your throat as if you were about to spill your guts out at any given moment. You were too nervous and you hated it. Because if Jeonghan saw you, which you doubted, you wanted him to see someone who was confident and sure that he was going to do well, not someone who looked like she was about to faint. I will find you in the crow, he said the night before.

“You look like you’re the one about to be evaluated,” Seungkwan said.

He patted your hand, which unknowingly gripped your thigh as strongly as you possibly could, your knuckles turning white.

“How did he do this for so many years?” you whispered

The question was more to yourself than to Seungkwan.

In one of the many conversations, you had with Jeonghan, coming to mind.

“The worst part of it all is being compared to other people,” he said, eyes distant, as if his mind was taking him to somewhere he didn’t want to be but at that moment he didn’t have a choice “Because what if I’m having a great day but the other isn’t? What if I had more chance to practice than others? What if I have an injury and the other doesn’t? We’re never on the same scale”

He looked troubled, eyes brows furrowed. You took his hand in yours, your fingers massaging his palm. His eyes looked a bit clearer when he turned to you but still, there was so much vulnerability in them. For a moment it was like seeing the same boy from the videos, someone who seemed powerful but was still so scared.

And ultimately that’s what it was. Fear.

It was his last chance and he was scared if might fail. Jeonghan wasn’t too sure that he could live with himself if he did.

“Truth is, there’s never going to be a scale. Ideally, it would be great but that is not the reality of it. I think your best should be enough, always. You’ve doing everything you can and we can all see it” you scooted closer to him on the couch, resting your shin on his shoulder “To me, you’re the best in the entire world, ever. It’s not much, I know, but I hope you know that I will unconditionally root for you”

Maybe it was unfair for Jeonghan to think like that, but for the first time in many years, he truly felt as if someone was by his side. You held his hand because you knew that he was scared, you cared and the reasons were yet unknown to him. Either way, he was going to hold onto it.

“I think that for people like us it sounds excruciating, but I bet he’s used to it” Seungkwan’s voice brought you back.

He hates it too, you wanted to say to choose to stay quiet. If there were things Jeonghan wanted to keep a secret, even if it was opposite to what you were supposed to do, you would keep your mouth shut.

Even before the screams, you felt something swift in the air and it could only be described as Jeonghan. It was as if the air suddenly turned electric and his present, all on its own, larger than the small arena you were in. When you finally saw him, the air got stuck in your lungs.

On a daily basis, Jeonghan was an extremely handsome man. Almost inhuman and unfair to others around him. But that day, while he walked in, he was indescribable. Nothing about him was normal.

It was like seeing a work of art in motion as if a painting on display in a fancy museum had come to life and was walking among the mere mortals of that gymnasium.

Jeonghan wore blue, a color that you discovered was his signature. In every competition he participated in, even as a child, Jeonghan wore blue. Whether it was the entire outfit or just some detail. He always wore blue.

And then, like a moth drawn to a flame, Jeonghan's eyes met yours and he smiled. A different smile than the one you had seen him give so many times before. It was more natural, even sincere. You wanted to have smiled back and waved at him, but it was as if your entire body was frozen and any movement was impossible. And maybe you didn't want even more attention focused on yourself. The people sitting next to the three of you were whispering among themselves, so the last thing you wanted was for them to find out that that beautiful smile was directed at you.

"I don't know what's going on between you, but if someone smiled like that at me, right in the middle of the arena, with dozens of people watching, I'd get married immediately" Seungkwan didn't share the same feeling of remaining still and silent, but at least he was polite enough to whisper at your side.

A whimper escaped your mouth, but you chose not to say anything else. Because, in truth, you didn't even know what was happening between the two of you. There wasn't a conversation, a simple "yes, we're together", but whatever it was, however long it lasted, you were willing to enjoy every second of it.

Jeonghan positioned himself in the center of the ice, eyes closed, and took a deep breath, once, twice. The first chords of If I Could See You Again sounded through the scattered speakers and a new and completely unknown feeling spread throughout your body. Pride, perhaps.

One after another, Jeonghan executed the moves with precision, almost exactly like he had done in training. You couldn't tell if the differences were good or bad, which could take or add points to the total.

Almost at the end, with just a few seconds left until the end of the short program, Jeonghan lost his balance. Not to the point where he fell, but enough that he had to touch the ground to stop himself from falling. The three of them said, in unison, "shit", Seungkwan making a crying sound in the back of his throat.

With one last turn, the performance came to an end and the song ended. Even with the mistake, the crowd exploded in screams and applause. The famous rabbits and stuffed animals were thrown towards Jeonghan. Following the people around you, you also stood up, clapping your hands.

Your heart begged Jeonghan to look in your direction again, even for a second. Jeonghan raised his head and the smile he gave was that rehearsed one, that you had seen many times before and that wasn't even remotely real. The irritation at his mistake was clear in his eyes, but no one seemed to notice.

He bowed to the judges and the audience behind them, sliding across the ice to catch one of the swooping rabbits. Finally, he turned towards you, his eyes immediately meeting yours. Throwing all caution out the window, you said "you did well" without making any real sound and hoped he understood.

Despite the bad taste in his mouth, left by his complete inability to complete the performance without mistakes, Jeonghan felt as if the hand that was squeezing his heart loosened when he looked at you. He waved once more to the audience and skated to the exit. His coach was waiting for him. The man's face was a strange mixture of relief and frustration.

"You did well," he said, even though the words were the same as yours, the intention was completely different "It wasn't such a serious mistake, so it shouldn't have too many points deducted. If it goes well tomorrow, we can advance to the world championship"

Jeonghan nodded. He didn't need to hear that, he knew, better than anyone, what was at risk and what he needed to do.

A performance without errors, that's all he needed.

At the request of Jeonghan's coach, there was no filming after the performance.

"He can talk about everything tomorrow. Now he has to focus on the free program"

You had no arguments to argue and you didn't want to either. Filming was, by far, your last concern. All you wanted to know was if Jeonghan was okay. You spent hours debating whether to call him or not, and in the end, you decided not to.

The big truth was that you had no idea where the lines were, which ones you could cross, and which ones you should religiously stay behind.

Therefore, you chose to send a text. Are you okay? was all you ask. Then you sat on the bed, legs crossed, and waited.

You didn't know what to do if Jeonghan would respond, or if he was concentrating to the point of not going near his cell phone - which was probably a good idea.

Jeonghan had the fourth-best score among short programs. Seungkwan explained that despite the mistake and the near fall, Jeonghan had moves that were considered difficult to execute and those were worth more points and he was precise in almost all of them, which resulted in him having a good score.

"If he hadn't made any mistakes, it's possible he would have come first," he commented, a hint of sadness in his voice.

Seungkwan was easily a fan. He didn't make the slightest point of hiding it. You weren’t one at first, you knew the bare minimum about skating, but as time went on, as you got to know Jeonghan, it was completely inevitable.

"I'm sure he can do it" Seungkwan assured.

The phone vibrated at first and half a second later the screen lit up and Jeonghan's name shone on the screen, a photo of his smiling face above his name. You hadn't uploaded a photo when you saved his contact, but you were sure who the culprit was.

"When did you put a picture of yourself on my phone?"

Jeonghan felt relief wash over his body just hearing your voice, knowing you were smiling on the other side. He was able to take a deep breath for the first time since the morning.

He couldn't quite understand how he had gotten into that situation. He couldn't even pinpoint a catalyzing moment, the moment he realized something was changing. One moment you were just someone he had to work with and then you became someone he longed for. There was no middle ground. It was like someone flipped a switch in his mind and his heart, as he could finally just be. No strings attached, no fear.

With you, he was simply Jeonghan, the person. Not the athlete, not the guy who appeared on television now and then. He was just another guy, with a normal job, a normal life. There are many normal ones, Jeonghan, yours may be different from mine and that's okay, you said it once.

Maybe that was the moment he realized he was in love with you. Maybe perceived isn't the right word, but it was the moment he allowed himself to feel.

"It's an inconceivable fact that you don’t have a picture of me on your phone"

You laughed at it and he wished he could be close to you. He wanted all your moments, no matter how small and bad they were, to be engraved in his mind.

"My phone has a password," you said. Your tone wasn't reproachful, you weren’t irritated. If anything, you were happy to be talking to him, that he was in your life.

"Your birthday isn't a very clever password," he said, laughing.

You wanted to ask how he knew, but the answer was pretty obvious: Seungkwan.

"Are you okay?" you asked, tone cautious. "No pain?"

You hated having to change the subject so abruptly, hated that you were the one changing the light tone of the conversation. But you had to know, you had to ask.

It was a second, nothing more than that, that turned on a warning light in your head. Jeonghan was sitting, waiting for his score announcement, when his face quickly contorted. It was there and then it wasn't. But you had seen that scene before, you knew exactly what it meant.

"Yes, I am," he said, still trying to keep his tone light.

"Jeonghan..."

He wondered when you were able to understand that he was lying. It didn't really matter. Jeonghan liked knowing that you knew him well enough to know the difference. It was the first time anyone cared enough to understand.

Jeonghan realized that by your side, he experienced many firsts.

"A little discomfort, but I told the doctor" he was quick to say, knowing exactly what was coming next "I have ice on my foot right now. I can compete tomorrow, it won't be a problem"

He wasn't lying. He felt the discomfort after his body cooled down and told the doctor. Maybe it was in the hopes of having a fair reason to give up. He had never talked about being in pain so quickly.

"I'm not confident" he admitted "It's like I was 12 again, in my first competition. I think I was more confident before, to be honest"

He lay down on the bed, staring at the hotel ceiling. It was a simple beige ceiling, hideous, but somehow, it gave him some peace of mind.

“You did really well in your first competition,” you said, hoping that would somehow help him.

Jeonghan just hummed in response but stayed quiet. He had too much on his mind, you knew. It was the shadow of a possible new injury, the idea of not being well enough to perform the movements easily, and the fact of not being confident. Everything had turned into a big snowball and he no longer knew what to do with all these problems that seemed unsolvable.

"Do you remember that day, when you were training and everyone was around? Even Jihoon showed up to watch, which was quite strange by the way" Jeonghan said yes, quietly, which was enough for you to continue " You weren't confident that day either and asked everyone to leave"

"Except you," he said.

"Yes, except me" you smiled, the memory still fresh in your mind, as if it had happened the day before, and not months before "We were there for another half an hour and you didn't make a single mistake after getting it right. I know it's harder now, that you can't kick all those people out of there, but you can imagine that it's just the two of us again. I told you before and I can tell you as many times as you need to hear, I'm rooting for you unconditionally"

Jeonghan sighed, his body finally relaxing completely.

"You could be more eloquent in your cheering," he said, his tone mocking.

"If I'm too eloquent, we won’t use Vernon’s videos," you said laughing.

Your laugh, Jeonghan decided, was the eighth wonder of the world. It was his choice and the only right one among all the possibilities.

"You could at least smile"

"That I can do"

You sat in the same place as the day before, the only difference was that Seungkwan was on the left and Vernon was on the right. But you were in exactly the same place as you promised Jeonghan you would. Not that you exactly had much of a choice, it was assigned seats, but at least you were lucky to have the same ones.

Also like the previous day, Jeonghan was the last to compete. You watched them all carefully, trying your best to spot mistakes, but you could only see the obvious ones. When, for example, the athlete who was in second, taking into account only the short program scores, fell. You knew you shouldn't, but you couldn't contain your squeak of joy. Both Seungkwan and Vernon laughed, but you knew they shared the feeling.

Everyone wanted Jeonghan to do well, of course.

Exactly like before, the world seemed to stop when Jeonghan entered. And this time he knew exactly where to look, where you were in the crowd. When he smiled and you smiled back, he felt like he had made the right decision at some point. Because, somehow, you were there and everything seemed like it would work out.

And even if everything went wrong, Jeonghan felt like he would be okay too.

You wanted to scream with the rest of the audience when Jeonghan took the podium in second place. You knew it wasn't what he wanted, but you also knew I wanted it more than he expected. But, as you had told him on the phone, if I were more eloquent, all the footage would be lost.

You excused yourself from Seungkwan and walked to the other side, where it was empty. When the silver medal was finally placed around your neck, you clapped and screamed like the other girls next to you. Jeonghan's free program was perfect, the deductions made by the judges, according to Seungkwan, made no sense at all - but you were sure it was the fan version of him speaking than anything else.

If it weren't for the lowest score from the previous day, Jeonghan would have been on the podium in first place. However, when he finished his presentation, he seemed to care little whether he had gotten a good score or the position he would get. He seemed satisfied with his performance. His smile as he bowed to the audience was genuine and joyful.

"Will you allow me to be honest?" Joshua said beside you.

You brought a hand to your heart, your body moving involuntarily away from him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you"

You smiled and shook your head. There were a few times that your and Joshua's paths crossed. He was Jeonghan's childhood friend and would occasionally appear. You were so focused on Jeonghan and on his performance that you hadn't noticed that you hadn't seen Joshua on either day of the competition.

“Of course,” you said clearing your throat.

Joshua stuck his hands in his pants pockets, his eyes still focused on Jeonghan who was walking down the podium and returning to the locker room. He looked at the medal, a small smile on his face, almost completely covered by his long hair.

"I thought you would be a problem, but I'm glad I was wrong"

When Jeonghan was out of sight, you finally turned to Joshua. He seemed to apologize with his eyes.

“A problem,” you repeated, to make sure you weren’t hearing things.

He scratched his head and smiled.

"Yes, a problem. You have become a central point for Jeonghan in recent times, I thought you could be dangerous to reach the goal of the Olympics. But looking at him now, I think you were never a problem, but rather the solution"

It was impossible to contain your smile for the rest of the night. Everyone left together after the press conference, which for once was not a fiasco.

You and Jeonghan never told anyone else that you were together. You want to know for sure what it was. But when everyone arrived at the restaurant, the two of you, Seungkwan, Vernon, Joshua, and the coach, everyone just seemed to move in a way to let you and Jeonghan sit next to each other.

Every time he placed his hand on your leg, a new wave of heat spread throughout your body. You were sure that Jeoghan knew what he was knowing, that he knew the effect it had. When you looked at him, he was looking at you smiling. He looked like a naughty child, who knew he was up to no good and was just waiting for someone to show up and tell him off.

The coach seemed uncomfortable, and now and then he cleared his throat. He only knew the rumors about Jeonghan, he had never seen him with a woman before. Joshua acted as if it were just another day, something he was already used to. Seungkwan and Vernon exchanged looks and laughed, you were sure you would have to deal with them later. The teasing would be tireless and at this point, it would be impossible to stop rumors from spreading around the office.

The thought that others might know what was going on between you and Jeonghan didn't scare you, at least not the way you thought it would. You were afraid that people would think you were less professional because of this, and that you might lose credibility. But none of that seemed to matter.

For the first time in a long time, you were happy. You didn't care if they knew because, at the end of the day, it was nobody's business.

You had made a name for yourself and it had nothing to do with your personal life.

And Jeonghan... he made you feel things you had never felt before. Your other boyfriends, as much as you liked them, didn't compare. The feeling you had for them seemed insignificant in comparison.

You wanted, as absurd as it might seem, to take care of Jeonghan. Not that he needed it, you knew he could manage just fine on his own. You wanted to be someone he could share his problems with, someone he could count on. You wanted to be someone who could be a safe haven, someone he didn't need to hide from.

And you thought, to a certain extent, you had become that person.

And without realizing it, even if unintentionally, Jeonghan had become that person for you too. When you had nightmares you wanted to call him, to be comforted by his sweet voice. You liked it when he held your hand, just because he liked it. You liked that he sent texts at random moments that made you smile and that left everyone around you wondering what had happened.

You had never believed that I could fall in love, not like that. The mere thought of liking someone like that seemed impossible, at least to you. You still had memories of your mother crying, right after your father left. You had promised yourself that you would never let anyone approach you like that. But Jeonghan showed up and it was as if the thought had never crossed your mind.

After the initial shock of meeting Jeonghan, it was easy to understand why people fell in love with him.

Even at that moment, when he wasn't doing anything much, just talking to Joshua and Seungkwan, the infamous butterflies didn't seem to leave you.

"Do you want to leave?" he asked suddenly.

Everyone had already eaten and some were waiting for dessert. It felt wrong to get up.

"Are you tired?"

As if on cue, Jeonghan closed his eyes and yawned, making everyone laugh, even the coach. He grabbed your hand and pulled you lightly, his head slightly tilted towards the restaurant door.

"We're going now," he said as he took your hand and in his and guided you out of the restaurant.

The thing about Jeonghan is that you never wanted to let him go. Once he was around you never wanted him to leave. So when he offered to take you to your room and said yes when you invested him in, you almost giggled like a teenager.

Is that how people felt when they liked someone? You knew the feeling of liking someone, yes, but it was different. A new feeling that was both exciting and scary. Your brain was partially inclined to run away and partly desperate to just stay.

When liking someone you always think back to your mother and how she never really recovered after your father left. Of course, she smiled and had many happy moments over the years but there was this distinct glow in her eyes that simply vanished the second he left.

You had always promised yourself that you would never give someone that much power over you and while you knew that you weren’t quite there yet with Jeonghan, you knew that there was a high chance of becoming something so great one day you’d have no control over.

Without much thought, you took his hand on your and kissed his knuckles.

"What 's that for?"

You shook your head, still keeping his hand close to your face, sighing when he cupped your cheeks.

"Nothing, I'm just really proud of you. You did so well today"

Jeonghan laughed, his eyes going top your eyes then to your lips then back to your eyes again.

"I didn't win" he felt the need to remind you.

You turned your face to the side and planted a kiss on the palm of his hand.

"It was your first time back, you did fantastically"

"Thank you for being there," he said, voice suddenly serious "It really meant a lot to me"

You stood on your tip toes and gave him a peck on the lips.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.”

Jeonghan wasn’t ready to let you go, not when he finally had you in his arms again, without anyone around. He pulled you closer to his body, his left hand at the base of your neck. He kissed your cheek, first the left one, then the right one, the tip of our nose until he finally reached your lips.

At first, the kiss was sweet, tentative, kind even. The tip of his tongue touched your bottom lip. Suddenly it was like all hell had broken loose. It was him and you but everywhere. He ran his hand down your neck, to your back until he reached the hem of your shirt. Goosebumps erupted when you felt his skin over yours.

His touch was so small, so insignificant, but it had such a great effect on you. You were out of breath partially from the kiss and partially from his touch. It was too little but also too much.

You pulled back from him and the look in his eyes was almost enough to bring you to your knees. You had never really seen the whole “his eyes darkened” thing but in that moment there was no better way to describe him. Jeonghan had a look in his eyes that you had never seen before, different from anything you had witnessed.

It took your breath away.

“I’m gonna” you pointed at the bathroom and quickly left him all alone in the room.

You needed a moment, hell not even you knew why you needed a moment. Your heart felt like it was about to combust with how quickly it was beating. You just needed to gather yourself, and maybe calm down a little bit before you went back into the room.

You twisted the faucet over the bathtub. A shower would have been faster, yes, but a little too fast. You didn’t wait for it to completely fill up to get in. You pulled your clothes off swiftly, leaving them on the floor beside the tub, before getting in.

Your mind was racing. Maybe a good way to describe it would be to say that there was a puppy with too much energy running from side to side in your head.

Five minutes went by before you heard the door opening and Jeonghan walked him. To his merit, his eyes stayed on your face the entire time until he sat down by your side.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, shin resting on the edge of the tub.

That was such a good question because you had no idea if there was something wrong. There isn’t, a voice said inside your mind. There was no reason for you to have run off like that.

“I’m not used to this,” you said as you reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers in his. His hand was so warm against your cold one “For a second it was too much”

“Did I…?”

You started to shake your head before he could get another word out.

“No, no, no” you sat down on the tub and moved as close to him as possible, spilling some water out in the process but Jeonghan didn’t seem to mind “I like you, really like you”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“In my world? Yes”

In your world, Jeonghan had managed to gather, all emotions made you want to run away. It was easier for you to deal with the bad, the sad, the hateful. The good part of it was hard because you had no real starting point for it.

“Let me show you my world, then”

He didn’t really wait for your answer and he leaned over the edge and captured your lips in his. His touch was tender as he crawled your face, leaving a trail of kisses from your lips, down your neck, till your collarbone. He smiled against your skin when he hit a sensitive spot that made you go a little breathless as a small moan left your lips.

Jeonghan ran the tip of his index finger across the valley of your breasts before cupping one of them in his hand. His thumb running over your hard nipples. Your moan was swallowed by his lips.

Your entire body became hot under his touch. Melting, falling apart and he had barely even touched you at all. It was too much but not at all enough.

Jeonghan kept exploring your body with his hand, running it down your stomach. Ever so slowly he moved his hand further down.

A gasp left your lips when his finger found your clit, drawing small, slow, circles. You leaned forward, your forehead pressed on the crook of his neck. His skin was warm, hot even. You turned your head to the side slightly until your lips came in contact with the skin of his neck. You pressed small kisses on him, sucking his skin at the same time he applied more pressure against you.

Jeonghan pulled back for a second, his focus solely on you, on your hooded eyes, the way your cheeks had turned a pretty shade of pink, how your lips were slightly parted, the way his name came out of your lips in the sweetest moan when his finger slipped over your folds, teasing your hole.

He was so completely enamored by you, in ways he never thought to be possible. In his past relationships, he had always been careful. He didn’t want to get caught but also didn’t want to fall too much. His life only had one direction, one goal. When he was by your side he just wanted to slow down a little and enjoy every single second he could with you.

Jeonghan wanted you to feel the same, this new sense of freedom that only came with these feelings, this desire to know every corner of someone’s soul.

Your grip on Jeonghan’s arms thighed, your eyes watering as you let your head fall back. He pushed two fingers into you, slowly until he was knuckles deep. He sucked in a breath when your walls squeezed around his fingers, pulling him deeper as he curled his fingers and then slightly opened them. He rubbed the heel of his hand over your clit as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out.

He was hard inside his pants, the zipper of his jeans making minimal pressure, not anywhere close to what he needed but he was happy with what he got, with the day he saw you let all of your walls down around him.

Jeonghan leaned forward a little, taking your lips into his, his tongue exploring your mouth as he moved his fingers faster, his thumb rubbing on your clit just as fast.

“Jeonghan…” you cried his name, again and again as your breathing got shallow.

You held his face in your hands, your thumb over his bottom lips, your eyes never leaving his as you became undone in front of him. Your legs quivering, your body arching until your chest was pressed against him, your loud moans filling the bathroom alongside the sounds of his fingers moving in and out of you at a relentless pace.

“Don’t stop, please, don’t stop” you asked

He had no intention of doing so, not until your body stopped shaking until you rode the last of your orgasm.

It was the most beautiful sight in the world. The seven wonders? Nothing compared to you.

Breathing heavily you leaned over Jeonghan, small spasms still making your body shake. You had boyfriends before, fucked all of them, some of them weren’t even your boyfriend and it had never felt like that, earth-shattering, live altering. You kissed him tenderly.

God, you were in love with the man.

You never thought of what it would be like to wake up in someone’s arms. It was never something you thought about too often when you had a boyfriend and it wasn’t something you craved. Being on your own, was something you were used to, whether it was on life or in your bed. Waking up to Jeonghan was something entirely new experience and one that you could never say that you didn’t like.

His body was turned to yours, and his hand possessively held your thigh. Most of his face was covered by his hair and this time around you didn’t shy away from pushing it away from his face.

“This is not creepy at all,” Jeonghan said, his eyes still closed.

You were startled for a second, your body involuntarily moving away from him and then settling back into him. This time your fingers weren't feather-like. You allowed yourself to fully touch him, to enjoy the feeling of his skin against yours.

“I can leave, if you want”

You slightly rose from the bed, but it was far enough for Jeonghan. He tugged at your waist and pulled back on the bed and got on top of you.

“You’re not going anywhere”

Jeonghan pressed his lips over yours and you felt your body melt under him. Was there ever a better place in the world to be? You weren’t too sure if there was, but if such place even existed you didn’t want to know.

“Tell me a secret,” he asked.

It was almost noon and you were still in bed with Jeonghan. He had asked for room service a couple of hours before and after eating both of you got back in bed, cuddling like two teenagers in love.

“I used to have a crush on Jihoon,” you said with a laugh.

There was a moment of silence, Jeonghan's body growing stiff by your side. That wasn't your intention at all, you wanted to bring a laugh out of him, and not make him uncomfortable.

“I don't think that's something you say while in bed with a guy, naked”

You laughed giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“You said to tell you a secret, that’s the only one I have left to give you,” you said pushing a strand of hair away from his forehead, smiling at him “When I met him, I didn’t know that he was going to be my boss, in fact I thought that he was regular employee like me. A couple of weeks later I found that that not only he was my boss but that he also had a long-term girlfriend, who is now engaged to”

Instead of focusing only on the crush part, which was one Jeonghan had no real desire to know about, he turned all of his attention to the first part of what you said, that you had no other secret to tell.

Though he thought of it as impossible, as everyone has secrets, he knew that you were somehow telling him the truth.

“And now?”

He propped his chin on your shoulder, his eyes shining as he waited for an answer.

You found that running your hand through his hair and playing with it was a new hobby and one that both of you seemed to enjoy. Jeonghan had fallen asleep twice while your hand was on his head.

“Now he's just a boss who's made me take a project I didn't want” you ran your finger over his nose and booped the tip “But now I’m really glad I did. Maybe the best decision forced on me in years?”

You couldn’t help but laugh when Jeonghan placed several loud kisses all over your face.

“Your turn”

You lightly pushed him away, just enough to see his face again.

“I’m constantly terrified,” he said after a few minutes in silence “I keep seeing myself falling on the ice, like it happened last night. When I close my eyes, that’s the only thing I see”

It was something hard to admit, even to himself. Failing was like a shadow that daily dark cloud following him wherever he went. His mind and dreams were filled with images of him doing the exact opposite of what he was supposed to do, of what he was expected to do.

Though he had been practicing hard, to exhaustion even, and did his best to put a great face, telling everyone just how confident he was, the truth was that Jeonghan wasn’t confident at all in himself. The chances of him making it were very low and though he did manage to get a good score and placed high on the podium, he wasn’t sure it would be enough to get him to the Olympics, much less to win it.

“I’m not a sports person, right?” Jeonghan nodded enthusiastically and pushed him, making him laugh “But I think sometimes falling is inevitable. You know something I believe in? You”

Jeonghan couldn’t help but smile at the words. He felt as if the hand squeezing his heart had let go of him. He felt light.

“If there’s someone in this world that can go through all of this, injuries, surgeries, rehab and still get to compete on the same level as before. Maybe even better. I believe in you. I hope you can too”

Months Later

Jeonghan hissed as he slowly pulled the sock off. The usually cream skin was turning an ugly dark shade of purple, his ankle already twice as big as was supposed to be. He wanted to scream out in frustration.

Of course, he had to get hurt again, of course, it had to be on the day before he was set to compete.

It was like whoever was writing the script of his life enjoyed putting him through pain. Jeonghan finally felt as if his life was falling into place. He was feeling healthy, he felt as if every time he got on the ice he was getting better, improving his performance every single time. And then there was you, who came into his life seemingly like a storm and turned his world upside down in ways he wasn’t aware he needed.

He had never felt more at ease, comfortable, than when he was with you. It had been a very long time since there was any need to shoot at his place but he always found himself calling you, or going to you. On days when you had to work late, you’d still come over and crawl into his bed, attaching yourself to him as if it was where you were supposed to be all along. You’d place a kiss on his spine and drift off to sleep without a word. Then, if there was no early schedule or practice, the two of you would just take turns cooking and talking about everything and nothing at all.

When he was with you, Jeonghan knew he had found the balance he had always looked for. It wasn’t the loud and reckless kind of relationship like the one he had before. With you Jeonghan felt at peace, home in many different ways. He liked to think that you felt the same way about him too.

Maybe he was being too greedy in wanting the creer, the legacy, as well as the love life but there was no way he was willing to let either one go, even if it meant that his blood would be covering the ice at the end of his performance.

“How are you” the door to his shared room was suddenly flung open and Joshua walked in “feeling…?”

His friend's voice got lower as his eyes moved from Jeonghan’s face to his ankle, then back to his face again. Joshua moved without saying a word. He opened the mini bar and pulled whichever can was colder.

“Does Bumzu know about this?”

It was weird to hear his coach’s name and he wasn’t too sure why. He said the name countless times since he was a teenager, he even said it earlier that day, but you had never said it. You’d always refer to him as just coach, even while directly talking to him. You never said his name and the man didn’t seem to mind it either.

Jeonghan looked back at his foot and then at his ankle. He had no idea how it had gotten that bad. He felt a little pain after the eighteen-hour flight so as soon as he settled down in his room he put some ice on it, which had seemingly done the trick. It looked fine. No purple bruise, no swelling. His ankle looked fine and felt fine, so he left to attend the open ceremony and then headed to practice for the next two days. He felt nothing. He was fine.

Until he, clearly, wasn’t.

“Does she know?”

Joshua pulled his leg up on the bed and put his feet up on two pillows. Jeonghan hissed again when he felt the ice against his skin and let his body fall back on the mattress.

“No, and she can’t know” he covered his eyes with his arm, sighing “I’ll tell Bumzu tomorrow”

“Don’t you think this should go into the documentary?” Joshua asked as he rolled the can from his ankle to the arch of his foot rhythmically “Don’t you think your girlfriend should know about this?”

Jeonghan played with the word on his tongue for a second. Girlfriend. Neither of you had ever labeled the relationship, too focused on the moment, on enjoying what you had and charging forward together. A label didn’t seem all too important. It was the kind of relationship that was always evolving but somehow staying the same.

“If she finds out, she’ll ask me to stop” he paused finally looking at his friend “And if she does, I will”

He couldn’t help but think about your face. The way you smiled while holding his hands in yours sitting on his couch, just a few minutes before the two of you had to leave for the airport. Your eyes shone as you told him how much you believed in him, that you knew he wanted to win but it would be okay if he didn’t.

It was the kind of speech he heard many many times before in his life and he always hated it. It always seemed shallow, just empty words thrown in the wind. But when it came from you, when those words left your lips they felt genuine, he knew it wasn’t something you just said because it was what you thought he wanted to hear.

“I’ll scream the loudest this time,” you said laughing as you ran your fingertips over his eyebrows and then tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. Jeonghan couldn’t help you lean into your touch. “I’ll be sitting away from Seungkwan and Vernon, so there really won’t be any way for me to ruin the footage”

The words I love you slipped out of Jeonghan’s mouth with ease, as they have always been there, like he was used to saying them. It was never been easy for him, even to his mother and sister. He loved them, of course he did. He showed it to them in all ways he could think of, but he never said. At least not as an adult.

Home, he had decided. Your eyes were his home. You were.

Jeonghan was certain that he would remember that moment forever. The way you leaned forward, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. The way you whispered I love you too. How you broke into a smile when you chastely kissed him and added so much it’s insane.

“Maybe she would be right” Joshua’s voice pulled him back to reality “Maybe you should stop. What if this gets bad enough that you can’t even walk anymore? What if…”

Jeonghan sat back up again.

“Do you remember when we were kids and I told you that I wanted a gold medal, an Olympic gold medal?” he suddenly asked.

Joshua closed his eyes and sighed. Obviously, he remembered it but he wished Jeonghan didn’t. Most of all, he wished Jeonghan wouldn’t use a promise he made almost twenty years before.

“Shua” Jeonghan pressed, his tone almost desperate. He felt bad, of course, but it was the only thing he had to stop Joshua. His last weapon to use.

“I promised I would help in any way possible since we all knew I wasn’t that great of a skater”

It was a stupid promise, made by stupid boys but even as adults they both stuck to it, like it was some sort of pact.

“The best way to help is to keep it a secret for the next 3 days”

The thing about competitions is that they are exhausting but not just for the people actively competing but for those working on the sidelines as well. you had been following Jeonghan for months now, to all sorts of competitions, rehab, and just his life in general.

In almost all of them he managed to make it to the podium and each time he looked brighter, and happier with his performance and the outcome. Though everything seemed to be going just fine, there was this itch in the back of your mind, telling you that there was something wrong with him.

Jeonghan seemed to be taking good care of his body and he was periodically going to the doctor. You weren’t too sure if that was a good thing. On one hand, it was good because it meant that he was in constant care for a serious injury. But it could also mean that he was in pain and that itch on your brain was right.

Whatever it was, Jeonghan wasn’t willing to share. He kept saying that he was fine and you were trying to believe him, you really were. But there was something in his eyes, in the way his body moved a little more stiff than usual. He had not looked at your direction once - which was something unusual.

The rational part of your brain said that it was just stress, crazy high amounts of it tugging at all of his nerves and muscles. It was his last chance so it was natural. He was an athlete focused on the competition ahead, of course, he would be a little different from what you were used to seeing.

However, the irrational and insecure part of your brain told you that regretted saying that he loved you and didn’t know how to take it back. That didn’t make any sense at all. Jeonghan wasn’t the kind of person who just said things to please the people around him. He would rather keep quiet than say something he didn’t mean. You knew that. You knew him. If he said it, then he meant it.

So why was he…

“Is he hurt again?” a familiar voice asked to your right.

You had completely forgotten that Jihoon would attend as part of the documentary crew. He had mentioned it the last time you spoke on the phone a couple of weeks before, he also sent an e-mail the day before you left but it had completely escaped your mind.

You blinked at him, your brain not fully registering what he said.

“What?” you asked.

Jihoon raised his eyebrows at you. He pointed at the rink where Jeonghan and the other skaters were warming up. His warm-up was different from what he usually did. He was just moving around, barely using his left foot.

“He’s not using his foot a whole lot” Jihoon pointed out.

He kept talking but his voice became just a distant sound as you pulled your phone out of your pocket, frantically searching for Joshua’s number. He was by the rink talking, in what you assume to be a hushed voice, with Bumzu.

You bit your lips while the phone rang. Despair spread through your chest when Joshua pulled his phone out of his pocket and showed it to the coach. Both men visibly sighed.

Tears started to well up in your eyes the moment Joshua’s tired voice greeted you.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Tell me what’s wrong with him, please” you begged.

Joshua pinched the bridge of his nose and turned around, making sure that you couldn’t see his expression. A terrible sign.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, everything is going according to plan”

“I may still be confused about some rules but my eyes work just fine, Joshua. Something is wrong, even Jihoon can see it”

You watched as he shook his head.

“He’s just hiding his game. We prepare a new program, entirely different, he doesn’t want to show any of it or overwork himself during the warm-up”.

Alarms went off in your head and a whinny sound left your lips. You were well aware of the three pairs of eyes on you, judging the very uncharastically way, so unlike yourself, you were behaving but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Listen“ Joshua’s tone was stern, irritated. Not once had he sounded like that “This is a competition, the biggest one could ever take part in, as well as his last one ever. Yes, things are different this time around. I need you to understand that and not add any pressure or stress on him. Can you do that?”

He didn’t really give you a chance to reply.

“He’s here as an elite athlete and you’re here as the documentarist in charge of capturing every second of it. I highly suggest you start acting accordingly”

The line went mute. The pressure on your head, on your heart, was so big you let your body fall on the seat again. Joshua had never been quite as harsh on you, or at all. He had always been soft spoken, and polite. You doubted that even under the obvious stress of the moment he would act like that. Something was definitely wrong but he wasn’t willing to share, which meant that Jeonghan’s condition was bad. It also meant that he didn’t want you to know what was wrong, the extension of the problem.

Seungkwan was suddenly by your side, his hand on your shoulder. You pushed the single tear that rolled down away and stood up again.

“Is everything okay?”

You just nodded and took the camera he had in his hands, adjusting the settings as an excuse to stay quiet long enough to be able to regain your ability to speak once more. You pushed the camera into Jihoon’s hand with a little more force than necessary, not really caring that he was your boss. His only reaction was to furrow his eyebrows at you one more time.

“Make yourself useful, will you” it didn’t matter if he was there to just watch or not “Do not lose coach out of sight”

You turned your body to Seungkwan and Vernon.

“Seungkwan, you're with Joshua. Vernon and I will focus on Jeonghan” you pointed at the seats you were supposed to take, indicating that Jeonghan would have two different angles on him, Vernon simply nodded “Jeonghan’s condition is less than ideal so we need all of their reactions. Don’t miss anything, every blink is important”

Seungkwan called your name, his fingers gripping the sleeve of your shirt around your wrist. The concern was evident in his eyes. He wanted to ask, but wasn't sure if he should and you weren’t sure you could speak without breaking into tears. Whether his concern was for you or Jeonghan, you didn’t know. Perhaps a mix of both.

“It’s our job, we should act accordingly”

Jeonghan finally let his body fall on the bed. It had been a long day and he had never felt more exhausted before in his life. But more than that, he was in pain.

His first program had drained him.

Every time he moved his foot it was as if a needle was being forced into his bones. Truth be told, Jeonghan wasn't even sure how he was still standing, how he still managed to walk straight without curving his body in pain. Skating was still a wonder in itself. The idea that both his mother and sister were watching from home maybe was something that helped push him forward. Maybe knowing that you were somewhere in the crowd also helped.

He didn't dare to look for you, didn't dare to look in your direction but he could swear that he had heard you cheer every time he landed, every time he executed a new movement. Having you there and hearing your voice, even if it was a daydream of his crazy mind, had been enough to push him to the end of the program.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and reread your text for the hundredth time. He just stared at his phone for the better part of the day, like the small device held all the answers in the world. All it did though, was call you and that was something that he didn't allow himself to do. It was what he wanted the most, to hear your assuring voice, but he shouldn't. He couldn't. He was satisfied just looking at the black screen when suddenly it lit up with a notification and your name attached to it.

"I will always be rooting for you! No matter what happens you'll always be number one" a second later another text followed "I love you"

Your message was sweet and loving. Jeonghan knew what it meant though. You didn't say anything, but it was clear that you knew something was wrong. Joshua had assured him that he didn't say anything to you but you weren't dumb.

He felt bad for keeping it a secret from you, for pushing you away, but in his mind, it was his only option. It turned out for the best that his coach and the federation didn't allow you and your team to follow him. Watching from the bleachers was all you could do.

Even if their decision somehow benefited him, Jeonghan hated it. He hated the idea of everything that was going wrong. He hated that he was in pain, and once again, hated that the one person he wanted to comfort him was the one he was pushing away. In a way, he felt as if he was drowning and there was no one to even see that there was something off with him.

Jeonghan heard the door opening but he didn't turn around in bed to see who it was, certain that it was only Joshua or maybe Bumzu coming in to check on him. He just turned further into his pillow, wishing for the day to be over soon. He couldn’t even think about his performance, which hadn’t been bad, to be honest.

“So you get injured again and you decide that I shouldn’t know. That’s not very nice, Jeonghan”

He felt his heart in his mouth and he jumped on the bed, suddenly sitting on the middle of the mattress, grimacing when he felt a sharp pain up his leg.

“I wonder who you wanted to keep it a secret from, the team in charge of the documentary or me”

There you were, leaning on the door with your arms crossed over your chest, frowning at him. He could cry while looking at you and perhaps the tears were inevitable because his eyes were already burning.

“How are you here?” he managed to ask.

You gave him a sheepish smile and showed him the badge on your neck. A picture of Joshua greeted him while you took a step close to him and Sar by his side on the bed.

“I stole Joshua's badge and wore it flipped around, no one really bothered to check if it was really me”

You took Jeonghan's right hand into yours, intertwining your fingers with his. It was almost a natural movement at this point and you weren’t surprised when he leaned forward and rested his forehead on your shoulder.

Throughout the entire day you had thought about what you would do, how you'd approach him. There was no right way to do it. You had two options: scream at him and tell him to just stop, that it wasn't worth it, or you could just be there for him, offer him your support in any way you could. And while the idea of screaming was great, you knew that it wasn't going to do any good. In fact, it would probably only worsen the situation that was already bad.

“I don't know what to do,” he said, slightly turning his head towards your neck and taking a deep breath, allowing himself to be completely lost in your scent.

“How bad is it?”

If Jeonghan wasn't willing to share it with you, decided that keeping it a secret was his only option it was probably bad but as moved away from you and pulled his pants up you enough to show the purple bruise on his ankle you realized that it was far worse than you could have imagined.

“Oh my God” you covered your mouth to stop yourself from saying anything else.

You thought back at his program, how he executed all of it flawlessly, how he was in second place — only 0.2 behind the first place — how he had a real chance at winning despite all odds.

“It looks worse than it feels, but it doesn't feel good either”

You pushed his hair back, away from his face. His eyes were filled with unwashed tears, so desperate. Seeing him like that was like having someone squeeze your heart with all of their strength, as if trying to turn it into ashes.

“I'm so close to it and I can see it, it's right there. If I just…” he balled his hands into fists as tears finally ran down his face “I just need to do well, do what I've been practicing and I know I'll get it. But this…”

He punched his thigh, eyes closed.

You took his face into your hands, delicately making him look at you. You had no idea that your heart could break just by looking at someone, had no idea that you would feel that way for someone else in your life. It was a crazy thought, a realization that there was someone else in the world that could make you feel like that.

When you told Jeonghan that you loved him it wasn't a lie. You didn't just threw those words around. Your heart was his and it was shattering for him.

You knew what it meant to him, all of it. Jeonghan might have made it seem as if he was just there to win and call it a day but you knew that it ran deeper than that. It was his last everything when it came down to it. His last competition, yes, but it was also his last everything. The last time he could say figure skater Yoon Jeonghan, after that he would just be retired. He hated the media a little too much to try and be one of those sports celebrities.

“If they tape you up, give you enough painkillers, do you think you could do it?” your words were shaky as you spoke “Do you think it's possible?”

Jeonghan couldn't really believe his ears, in what you were saying to him. He was certain that you would tell him to stop, that it was okay, that he didn't have to go all the way to the end. It was a good run, you don't have to prove yourself to anyone, he could almost hear your voice in his mind.

But right there, in front of him, you stood doing the exact opposite of what he expected.

“I thought you'd tell me to stop”

You kissed his face, close to his eyes, where his tears had stained his cheeks. The first one was quick, the second lingering a little bit more.

“I probably should, but it's not what you need” you kissed his forehead, nose, and lips “You're a force to be reckoned with, Jeonghan. If there's someone in the world that can compete in these conditions it's you”

Your heart was oddly at peace with everything. Sneaking into Jeonghan's room had been reckless but necessary, for both of you.

It was scary to imagine him getting injured again. You knew how hard he worked to be able to even get on the ice at all. You knew what it meant to him, so telling him that it was okay to just try felt natural and in some ways the only right option.

Leaving his room had been hard. All you wanted to do was stay there with him, comforting him, in silence. You just wanted to be by his side but you knew that wasn't possible so you left after kissing him.

Maybe telling him to push through was a bad call, maybe telling him to quit was what was best for him but you tried to put yourself in his shoes. Had it been you, with your last chance ever, would you stop or would just just say fuck it and go down trying?

The answer was easy: you'd do the exact same.

“So…” Seungkwan asked as the four of you walked into the gymnasium “Is he okay?”

Seungkwan was a good friend and someone who worried about Jeonghan. He had been the first one to warm up to him and talk with him. Jeonghan liked him too, calling him Seungkwannie and even inviting him for dinner on occasion.

“Not really,” you said as you finally found your seats “But he's going to compete anyway”

“Can he even do that?” Jihoon asked, “Should he do that?”

Your shoulders rose as you sighed.

“He's doing what he thinks is the best option for him”

The conversation ended just like that. There was nothing left to say. All any of you could do was sit and wait.

Jeonghan skated into the rink. His face was serious, no emotion on display. It was a mask of a man who was focused on what he had to do. He eyes the center of the rink, unblinking.

His costume of choice was very simple, just a plain black blouse with silver and blue details on the sleeves and around his neck. His hair was tied back and away from his face.

Looking at him one wouldn’t be able to say that he was in pain, that his ankle was twice its normal size, so close to just giving up. No one could tell that he was shaking. It was imperceptible to those on the bleachers that his heart was beating so fast, so loudly, that he could feel it in his ears.

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. Once. Twice. Again. He thought of you, with your hands clasped together in a silent prayer, he thought of his mother and sister watching him from home. He thought about himself two and a half years before, how hard he had worked to get to that rink one last time. He thought back to his ten years old self, when he first dreamt of the Olympics.

Winning was his only option.

Jeonghan opened his eyes as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

The entire gymnasium erupted in loud cheers while Jeonghan thanked the audience, one side, then another. He bows his head a few times, catching one of the bunny dolls thrown at the rink in mid air. His smile is beautiful and large. He became pure happiness and you know that it couldn’t be any different.

Jeonghan managed to deliver his performance in complete perfection, no obvious mistakes were made. You were certain the judges would find something to deduce points but there was no way that he wouldn’t place first.

He waved at the crowd and somehow the cheering got even louder. It’s not his home country but it felt as if everyone in there was applauding him more than all of the athletes before him. And maybe that was really the case.

Jeonghan’s injury had been disclosed to the public right before the beginning of the competition and people love the idea of someone who can overcome whatever it is that stops them, an injury, a disease.

Jeonghan whirled around one more time, hand in the air waving, when face his contorted, his beautiful smile gone and he fell to his knees.

One second.

Two seconds.

Five seconds.

He didn’t move an inch, he didn’t get put but he also didn’t do much else. It was when you started to worry that there was something wrong. Even from that far back, you saw his arms shake, his eyes shut close, and his hand balled into fists. It became painfully obvious that there was something wrong.

The cheering and applause didn’t stop or got quieter. If anything, the volume only got louder. The crowd seemed to think that he was still thanking them, that he was overwhelmed with emotions, that he was exhausted after such a perfect performance.

He did the unthinkable, he managed to finish his performance flawlessly, lading jump, after jump, after jump. And he did, on the last performance of his career, at his last Olympics.

Jeonghan hadn’t announced it yet, but that was his last everything. After that day, he would leave behind his days in figure skating and would try to search for something else to do with his life. It was the last of him, ever, and he ended it on such a high note.

After more than a year of following him, talking to him, and understanding who Jeonghan was and what his stage persona was, you knew that it was not the emotions he was feeling. Although the man could be very humble at times, he wasn’t to that extent. He wouldn’t be on his knees for a full minute.

That’s when you saw coach run to the ice, two paramedics right behind him.

You rush down the bleachers, trying to see what’s happening on the ice while trying not to fall face first. The coach talked with Jeonghan, and whatever the older man said got a reply and Jeonghan shook his head. You didn’t know what he’s saying.

I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong. I’m not in pain. I’m just tired.

Those are the words you wished he said, on just a collection of them

Vernon took the camera and did a run down of the crowd before turning it to Jeonghan, still on his knees. You didn’t know what to do. The two of them were right behind you, Vernon and Seungkwan, their footsteps way too loud for you to notice that the crowd had finally stopped cheering, finally noticing that the situation wasn’t as good as they first expected it to be.

Your eyes never really left Jeonghan. The only thought going through your mind at that moment was to get to him as fast as possible, to hold his hand. That simple action wouldn’t mean much, you knew that, and you would do it more for yourself than for him. But you liked to think that in such a moment, he would want you by his side.

The paramedics raised Jeonghan, his arms around their shoulders while they carried him out of the ring. One of his feet slides with ease, while he holds the other one up in a weird position, slightly tilted back.

That’s when you knew. The issue on his ankle. He took it too far with the performance and practices, landing on it time and time again.

You stopped in your tracks and turned around. You pressed your hand on the lens of Vernon’s camera pushing it until he finally lowered it.

“Stop filming, right now” it wasn’t a request, your voice wasn’t kind. It was an order, one you needed him to follow “From now on, nothing gets filmed”

Vernon looked confused, his eyes darting to Seungkwan, as if asking for help in a way.

“But it’s our job,” he said.

You shook your head.

“Our job, what we needed to film, ended the second he landed that jump. Now it’s not the time to record him”

Seungkwan understands what you’re saying, he too pressed a hand on Vernon’s camera, pushing it even further down, shaking his head and his friends looked at him worried.

You turned away from them, eyes immediately falling on Jeonghan.

For a moment you thought that they wouldn't let you through. Security had no idea of who you were. So why would they let a strange woman be anywhere near the athlete? But they did let you through. You didn’t know how, you didn't know why, but you also didn’t dare to question.

They just moved out of the way, making a path for you. You followed the coach back to the locker rooms, ignoring the fact that you shouldn’t be there, not in the male one anyway.

You finally reached Jeonghan. His face was pale, paler than usual, his lips were turning purple.

“Jeonghan” his name leaves your lips in a breath.

He reached a hand for you once the paramedics laid him down on a stretcher.

“Baby,” he said, voice barely above a whisper “I did it. Did you see it?”

You pushed his hair away from his forehead, surprised with his cold sweat.

“You did it, you were fantastic”

He smiled at you, his eyes not really focusing on you or on anything else.

“I think I broke something,” he said, voice low “I don’t know, it just hurts. A lot”

You looked at his coach, the man didn’t know either, but his eyes were focused on Jeonghan's ankle. Your eyes move to the paramedic, who as carefully as possible trying to remove his skates.

The doctor that accompanied Jeonghan since the surgery finally approached him. The man too looked as white as a candle.

Jeonghan had finally taken it too far.

“You cut your hair, '' you said, as you tucked your legs under your thighs, sitting comfortably on the fluff carpet in Jeonghan’s living room.

Seungkwan stood behind you and by his side was Vernon. It was the place where it all started, so it seemed fitting that it also ended there.

Jeonghan nodded, running his hand through the loose strands. You drummed your fingers over your thighs, thinking about how just a couple of hours before you were playing with his hair while he had his head on your belly because your stomach is being noisy and I want to sleep when you told him he could move, he just hugged your waist tighter rubbing his face on your skin nope.

“I thought it would be a good change” he pouted a little, unconsciously “I still need to get used to it.”

Why did you think it would be a good change?”

He narrowed his eyes for a second. He had that conversation with you before. For a moment he forgot that the version of you he talked with was his girlfriend, not the documentarist sitting in front of him.

“I started to grow my hair after the whole incident with the press” he made a dismissive gesture with his hand “I think I sort of wanted to hide from them and the hair helped a lot. In a way, I think a new haircut symbolizes a new start? You know, now that I’m no longer an athlete”

You nodded, smiling at him. It always took his breath away, your smile. He loved the way you had been constantly smiling around him, the frown that seemed to have a permanent stay between your eyebrows when you first met was nowhere in sight.

“How does it feel, being retired?”

“If you asked me that four years ago, I’d say that it sounded like my words nightmare. But now after so many injuries and surgeries, it felt like the timing was right. If you think about it, the way it ended for me was pretty epic”

Jeonghan matched your smile as the memories started to flood his mind. The way he almost blacked out due to the pain in his ankle, the way the crowd screamed so loudly and he refused to believe that it was because of him, at least not until Bumzu came back to his side, his eyes red with unshed tears.

“You fucking idiot of a human, you did it”

You had kissed his temple multiple times, telling him how brave he was, how strong he was. "Most people would have walked away before even getting on the rink” you had said later that night after all of you had finally gotten back from the hospital. Jeonghan was prohibited from using his foot and needed to have surgery once again after the worst part of the swelling subsided.

He remembers refusing to be taken away to get his ankle checked until he saw with his own eyes that he had won. He was carried out by Bumzu and Joshua despite the doctor’s cries that he should be taken to the hospital. You followed the three of them close behind.

Jeonghan smiled at the screen hanging from the roof. His name stood at the top of the list, in big letters, the number one attached to it.

As he stood on the podium, gold medal around his neck, Jeonghan saw you clamming and screaming, a huge smile on your face as tears ran down your cheeks. He had finally gotten his wish, to see you being as eloquent as possible, cheering for him.

“Most people would agree with you”

“I feel bad about making my family worry though. But they understand, I think”

His sister has screamed at him over the phone, angry that he asked them not to go watch him — mostly because he was scared to have them there while he failed — that he never told them about his injuries. But also happy for him. Truthfully he didn’t understand some of what she said, talking while crying was not her forte.

You looked back at Seungkwan over your shoulder and both of you nodded. Jeonghan watched as you closed the small notebook in your hands and put it aside.

“This is the last question of this documentary, so make your answer a good one, okay?” you said teasingly “Now that you can’t skate again, what are your plans for the future?”

Saying that Jeonghan wouldn’t be able to skate again was maybe a little exaggeration. Sure, there was no way he’d ever be able to compete again — nor did he wanted to —, but maybe after he was all healed he could do it again just for fun. That wasn’t something he was going to say directly at you. You had gotten worried after his new injury that even conversations about past competitions made you shiver, it had gotten so bad that you had nightmares about him getting hurt again and in those his end was never quite as good or epic as the one he actually got. So Jeonghan thought that it was for the best to not talk about it, at least for the time being while he still hadn’t been cleared by his doctor.

“With my career?” he bit his lip, truly thinking about it “For now, nothing. I’ve been competing for almost twenty years, in the rink for about 22 years, I think I deserve to stop and just not do anything for a while. In my personal life, I want to spend some time with my family, which is something that I always skipped because practice was just more important. I haven’t spent a birthday with them in years”

He tilted his head to the side, his eyes on you.

“I have a girlfriend, right. And she had this little notebook, I think she might be a little obsessed with notebooks and pens, and everything stationary related” he whispered the last part making you roll your eyes “She writes in those places she wants to go to. So, if I can convince her to take a few vacation days, I want to take her to those places”

“You suck,” you said.

“You didn’t seem to…”

Seungkwan took a step forward and blocked the view of the camera, his eyes wide.

“Okay, that’s a wrap everyone! Thank you!”

taglist: @wonwooz1, @sobun1est, @mirtaspace, @feat-sun, @belladaises, @immabecreepin, @aaniag, @k-drama-adict, @maiamorrrrrrrrrrrr, @tomodachiii, @sofix-hc7, @moonlightgrleric, @mixling-blog, @haowonbins, @valgracia, @slut4donghyuck, @shuabby1994, @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan, @plumings, @shuasdrafts, @aaasia111, @dreamsbloomout, @maewhore, @sea-moon-star, @roguesthetic, @writingbarnes, @strawberryroseee, @lovely-ficsfor-me, @jjeongddol, @whoa-jo

if you enjoyed reading, please reblog and leave a comment, it really does mean the world to me and i would love to know your thoughts. thank you! 💕

if you want to be tagged in my next fics, please fill out this form

474 notes · View notes

generalsmemories · 10 months

Text

48 hours.

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ synopsis: did time always pass this slowly before?

✧ word count: 3.5k

✧ contents: established relationship, mentions of other characters, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, spoilers for the 1.2 main story! + a very sorry attempt of writing angst lmfao

✧ a/n: i better see my man waking up from the best sleep he's ever had next update, i ain't accepting anything else. but until then you guys will get whatever this is because Jing Yuan is literally the definition of sleeping beauty throughout 90% of this piece.

The smell of seawater is prominent the closer you get to the statue of the former high elder. The waves seemingly roaring their praises for the Vidyadhara male before you who once again parted them to reveal a palace buried beneath them.

You're still able to see the waves crash down onto the shore, the force of the impact so harsh that your shoes are drenched.

The troops behind you seem to be in awe, whispering amongst themselves as you make your way up the stairs. Fu Xuan seems to notice you almost immediately, to which you give a curt bow before looking over to Jing Yuan whose hardened expression seem to soften slightly upon seeing you, "General, the reinforcements you've requested are here," you relay, glancing behind you to gesture the other Cloud Knights to position themselves behind the two that was behind Fu Xuan.

"Splendid, Lady Fu?" Jing Yuan turns his attention back to Fu Xuan who straightens up a bit, your eyes sweep over the people behind him. The trailblazer and their companions either giving you a curt nod or an energetic wave upon seeing your attention on them. Only one male diverts his attention elsewhere when his eyes locked upon yours. You can however see him give you a curt nod when he glanced back at you, "Remain here - lead the Cloud Knights in defense of this passage. We must prevent further incidents."

Your eyebrows furrow, but before you can utter a sound Fu Xuan takes a step before you in alarm, "Jing Yuan- General, are you planning on facing Phantylia alone?"

Your mind blanks the moment you notice what he's planning to do, but as the plan has already come this far any complaints you would have would fall on deaf ears. You can merely bite back your words and look away from him - Jing Yuan does take notice of this, but he has no time to console you, merely sparing you an apologetic glance as if that would lessen the sudden reveal of his plans.

You only turn your attention back towards the stairways leading down once you start to hear bustling around you, already noticing Fu Xuan address some Cloud Knights - but she does glance at you and cock her head to the side towards the retreating group with a small smile.

Almost as if saying: "We never know what might happen, say what you want to say now instead of regretting it later."

He's walking considerably slower than the rest of the party, and you let out a scoff at how he even predicted this, "Jing Yuan." you call out, and your lover turns around with the same easygoing smile he always gave you whether it was during a meeting at the Divine Foresight, on the training grounds of the Cloud Knights as he sparred with Yanqing or at the comfort at your own private quarters.

But he doesn't move from his spot - "Yes?" he asks softly, foregoing the petnames he usually addreses with you, a silent hint as to what sort of situation the two of you find yourself in.

"... I expect you to return safely to your troops, general." you merely say, before mouthing silently: "And to me."

Jing Yuan doesn't give you a nod, he merely laughs with a smile before turning around and descending down the stairs.

The next time you saw him, he was being carried by Dan Heng, not even conscious to hear your call for him.

HOUR 3

It took an hour to haul him to to Miss Bailu's place, the smaller vidyadhara's eyes widening upon seeing his unconscious self being carred by another Vidyadhara of all things.

And as much as you wanted to stay by him, there were more immediate pressing matters to handle. You had practically begged the high elder to take care of him, sputtering whatever you were informed before Bailu were forced to sit you down to make you relax.

You were offered a cup of her herbal tea before you continued on your way, taking one last glance at Jing Yuans' resting form before you rushed out to take care of your home in his stead.

HOUR 12

The ink brush in your hand is barely moving at this point, the tip of the hair dipped with the ink having made an extended black dot on the paper scroll you were currently writing on. You glanced over to the side from your place at the desk, watching with rapt attention Jing Yuans' chest falling up and down - an indicator that he was alive and breathing.

You're pretty sure you've observed his condition more than you have gotten any work done in the past few hours. The intial plan was to go the Divine Foresight to take care of the duties that would be left behind with the abscence of the General personally because at that point you would be easily accesible to the public. But just after an hour or two, Qingzu had contacted Fu Xuan to inform her that you were in no right mind to currently focus.

Thus you were tasked to stay home or work from the room where Jing Yuan was resting by Bailu's clinic - Fu Xuan had merely parroted back what Bailu had said to her which was to let Jing Yuan wake up on his own terms, he didn't seem to be affected too strongly by Phantylia's attempt to turn him into a voidranger, and Bailu was currently in the process of finding out more.

"You wouldn't want him to wake up to the entirety of Xianzhou and yourself in disarray do you? If anything the moment he does he would sure wish he was back asleep," she had tried to joke, to which you only responded with a dry laugh.

You glanced towards the clock again, you don't know how many times you've done it, 7:28 AM. it had gone 9 hours since? Why did it feel like it had gone days?

You let out a sigh, settling yourself to sit beside Jing Yuan and brushing a hand through his hair, "How come you even made me forget the concept of time for us?" you mutter. 9 hours was usually nothing for you - nor for him. 9 hours was a lot for a short-lived species, but for you, it was just 9 hours.

It was just supposed to be a few hours.

So how did 9 hours suddenly feel a lot longer?

HOUR 24

There's a quiet knock at the door that jolts you awake, the sudden sound amidst the quiet room makes you jump from your seat at the desk, your knee colliding with the surface underneath the desk.

It doesn't hurt of course, but the person behind the door can hear your quiet curse, "Come in, Yanqing," you utter a few minutes after, and when he opens the door he's met with scene of ink spilled all over the desk and dripping down the floor.

"... Lady Bailu wouldn't be very happy about that mess, you know?"

You merely dropped a handful of paper towels down on the floor and set the ink bottle straight again, taking a seat by the bed and gesturing for Yanqing to settle on the floor in front of you. The boy doesn't utter a word as he passed you the bandages and first aid kit he had gotten from one of the attendants.

"You know you don't have to come all the way here to just get your wounds dressed up, right?" You remind the lieutenant, but at the back of your mind you're well aware the reason why Yanqing keeps coming back, "But thank you."

A couple of minutes pass like that, Yanqing kneeled on the floor as you set up everything, the distant tick-tock of the clock reverberating by the lieutenant ears.

"It doesn't hurt as much anymore, right?" you ask while undressing the bandages currently adorning his head, "It never hurt at all, who do you take me for, [Name]?!" he scoffed, crossing his arms and turning his head to the side harshly - immediately regretting said decision with a pained whimper.

You chuckle, brushing out his hair before starting to wrap the bandages around his head again, "You and that idiot really like to throw yourselves head first into danger, hmm?" you muse quietly, Yanqing's posture immediately stiffening at the mention of the general still unconscious beside you.

"He's not mad, is he?" Yanqing asks quietly after you've tied a knot, leaning his head back to stare at you. The mere question makes you laugh even more, "He was already aware of what you were planning to do, he could never be severely disappointed in you," the response made the younger boy let out a sigh of relief.

"... Are you mad at him?" Yanqing asks in the end, the boy having already made himself comfortable against you, twisting his body to lean his arms on your left thigh. Propping his chin on his arms that rests against your thigh, he takes a long look at Jing Yuan before directing his gaze back to you. He patiently waits for your response, but you can only blink back at him in wonder before your gaze turns towards Jing Yuan.

... Were you angry?

HOUR 32

"You're not gonna rot in this room with him of all things, [Name]." is the first thing Fu Xuan says the moment she slams the door open. You are for once, not cooped inside the clinic room, but outside by the balcony staring down at the Xianzhou people go on about their day with a cup of herbal tea in your hand, merely giving her a glance with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm very much not rotting inside there, Lady Fu. Bailu wouldn't let me either. Please give me a bit more credit than that," you say with a sigh, placing the cup of tea down in front of her before taking a seat opposite of her, "I'm just concerned is all, is there any news from Lady Bailu?" you question, the divination commissioner shaking her head, "Other than her confirming that the general should really just be deeply asleep, she hasn't found anything yet. But he did take a lot of wounds and hits during that fight from what I was informed, it's amazing there's nothing more than that."

A moment of silence passes, the only sound is the clinking of ice cubes against your glass while you swirled the tea around.

"That's the thing."

"Pardon?"

" There should be something more happening to him than just being bedridden needing a nap! He was almost turned into a voidranger of all things, Fu Xuan!" you shout, the fragile composure that you had so desperately tried to hold up cracking in just a few hours. The divination commissioners' eyes widening in surprise at the sudden outburst.

If the past you could've seen the state you were in now, they would've laughed at you. Even now you find yourself pathethic. Because it is pathethic, you've been through worse situations that lasted for weeks, months and even decades.

But somehow, seeing your beloved in such a position and unable to do anything when you usually were able to just cracks down on every purpose and belief you've held yourself to.

"He didn't want help, he didn't ask for help when he had the chance! He went into that battle expecting to not come back alive at all, but with purpose to bring that ravager down with him! And of course he would, it's Jing Yuan! He will lay down his entire soul and being, his life to protect the Xianzhou through another crisis - just like every other problem that could've risen to a crisis in the past centuries!" you cry, Fu Xuan can see that even with the outburst you're still trying to keep yourself sane, your knuckles turning white from gripping the corners of the table before you.

"The only thing I shouldn't have to worry about is when he's going to wake up, Fu Xuan. That worry shouldn't have to be my only concern with his condition," you mutter in the end. A few minutes pass by in silence, not because Fu Xuan didn't know what to say - moreso because she was aware that you weren't looking for comfort.

So she lets the few minutes pass before you raise your head with a smile. It's a smile she is well aware is forced: "Why don't we take a stroll outside then? I think Bailu would jump in joy if she sees me out of the room too."

HOUR 45

Fu Xuan realized how efficient you truly were whenever you didn't have to appease a touch starved general. A glance at the desk when she first arrived to drag you out showed her results of your hard work under 24 hours which was the finished and marked scrolls that was supposed to be sent to her - in addition to more "trivial" paperwork left behind at the Divine Foresight.

No wonder Marshal Hua was reluctant to let you go when Jing Yuan had first proposed to you.

And Fu Xuan will be damned to let said general also be your downfall.

So for the next 13 hours after that, you were somehow visited by numerous people who were in need of some minor help - that be the trailblazer looking immensely out of place as they asked you for some obvious facts about the luofu to Yanqing dragging you out to the training grounds to finally have a chance to spar with you again.

That girl really can't show concern in the normal way, can she?

A futile attempt to relieve your mind of endless worry - but an attempt nonetheless which makes a soft smile graze your lips. You sent a quick message to Qingzu to send a few Cloud Knights to guard the perimeter of the house before heading out the door once again.

If you knew the Cloud Knights well enough, they would already be running over - and sure enough you were greeted by enthusiastic greetings by them after merely taking a few steps away from the porch.

Fu Xuan merely gave you a deadpanned look when you arrived at the Divination Commission, "What, weren't you the one who wanted to distract me from worrying so much?" you asked with a grin.

"Yes, but I meant it in a way to relax your body and mind, not overwork yourself to exhaustion."

"Just humor me this once, Lady Fu."

Fu Xuan huffed, turned around while nagging at you. She didn't comment on the way you were clenching your fist so tightly that blood seeped out from where your fingernails were digging into your palm.

Love truly was a dangerous feeling.

HOUR 48

Jing Yuan felt like his whole body was underwater. It was hard to move, and even harder trying to open his eyes. There's a dull ache spreading through every vein in his body - a feeling he had gotten used to thanks to numerous battles, but with so many centuries of peace he was not liking how taxing it truly was.

Blinking his eyes open, he was met with an unfamiliar ceiling, but inside an environment that he was somewhat familiar with whenever he felt like skipping work.

Trying to heave himself up proved harder than normal, the man letting out a groan as he supported both hands on the bed to drag himself up to a sitting position.

He was covered in fresh bandages, so either Bailu or another attendant must've been inside a few hours before to change them. One look around the room gave him a rough idea on what has been going on.

It's been roughly 2 days since the battle with Phantylia, the new addition to the desk by the corner piled with scrolls and textbooks indicate that you've been by his side ever since he came back.

And lastly, although his whole body is hurting and moving even a muscle sends shockwaves of pain through his body, he was still very much alive.

"Bailu I've already been chased around for 13 hours to prevent from being inside there, I just want a break. No it's fine I don't need a bed I'll just sit by the balcony again - yes I'll call you if I need anything, don't worry. Really it's fine -" The fake cheer in your voice immediately stops up when you turn your head away from Bailu and into the room, but instead of being seen with the same scenery as you've gotten used to in the past 48 hours, you're staring straight into Jing Yuan's open eyes - the man himself only cocking his head to the side with a smile.

"Good afternoon, dear."

He can tell Bailu has already hightailed away to grab her things, which leaves him alone with you. You, who hasn't even moved a single muscle since locking eyes with him. Jing Yuan can see your mouth move in attempt to say something and that the hand on the door handle is trembling slightly.

"... What, you're not happy to see me?" he tries to joke, but the moment he sees your eyes flicker from surprise to anger he knew it was a bad joke to tell, "I'm sorry-"

"Sorry? You're sorry?!" you seethe through clenched teeth, still having enough rationality to not yell inside of a clinic of all things, even closing the door gently before marching into the room.

You don't even reach out to him, and Jing Yuan doesn't have the energy to reach out for you.

"You sure weren't sorry when you kept all of those plans to yourself and walked down that staircase with half a mind of not returning," you point out, and Jing Yuan can only give you the same easygoing smile he gave you that very same day.

"... Why? Why is at the most crucial moments that you want to do everything alone? Why won't you lean onto someone for once, why must you do everything in secrecy but at the same time be so open?" you question, every worry and fear just pouring and Jing Yuan let's you speak.

And even when his whole body hurts, he reaches out to gently grab your wrist to pull you down to sit by the bedside. He's aware that you could've easily stood your ground, because he's much too weak to actually force you to do anything.

And yet you're so pliant, sitting down close enough for him to wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head against your shoulder, "... 48 hours isn't a long time for our people," you breathe softly after a moment of silence, "But those 48 hours where you didn't even turn around one single time nor make a single movement? It was almost the worst 48 hours I've experienced so far."

"And I hate it, why have I let you reduce me to something so vulnerable and I can't do anything about it?! Why have you gone against everything you first promised to me?!" Your voice is gradually getting louder, but Jing Yuan doesn't comment on it.

"I'm sorry," he mutters again, and you only scoff, "You're not sorry, I know you're not. If something like this happened again I know you would do the exact same thing."

You know him too well, and that's what also scares him in the end.

Because if you weren't so high on emotions right now and just took a moment to think, you would realize that if you were in the same battlefield as him things would not go as smoothly - to either one of you.

It was better for him to be alone right then and there - because if Phantylia had even seen one weakness from him of all people it would've reduced the already slim chances of them winning that battle to zero.

If Phantylia had even decided to target you, he knew he wouldn't be able to keep his rationality inside - because you have him wrapped around your finger more than you realize.

Every regret and painful memory he has experienced have started to pale when he compares to every joyful moment you've given him. So if you were to perish in that fight for him and for the Xianzhou? Jing Yuan would've truly lost against the battle of time.

He's selfish, for once he wants to be selfish because he's chosen to not be in every waking moment of his life - so he wants to be selfish this once and rather take a gamble with his life than toy with yours.

"I'm sorry," he whispers once again, a hand reaching out to cup your cheek, the general chuckling when he feels a stray tear his his thumb. He leans back to watch you, a guilty look crossing his features at your slightly reddened eyes.

And yet you're glaring at him in anger, but Jing Yuan is so relieved that you're still there with him.

So he leans in with no hesitation, pecking the corner of your eyes while whispering that he's sorry after every peck, his thumb pushing down on your lower lip to stop you from biting your lips so harshly, "I truly am," he whispers, silencing the bubbling sobs coming from your lips with his own.

He is sorry. And he hates the thought of you hurting, because both of you had gone through enough. But he would rather that you go through 48 hours of pure torment for him than taking the risk of losing you completely.

His love for you is selfish like that, because if he wasn't selfish he would be too vulnerable.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x you #star rail x reader #hsr x you #jing yuan x reader #x reader #reader-insert

2K notes · View notes