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ovaryacted · 5 months

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FORGOTTEN DREAMS

PAIRING: DI!Leon x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: Coming back from his mission to Alcatraz, Leon wasn't expecting to have old desires from his past haunt him at his current age. Being his partner, you comfort him and try to fulfill his hidden wishes.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: 18+/MDNI. NSFW. Smut. Porn with some plot. Angsty at the beginning. Brief talks of trauma. Established relationship (Leon & Reader are engaged/married). Assumed ages (Leon is 38, Reader is an adult so 25+). Breeding Kink (reciprocated both ways). Mating Press. Creampie. Unprotected sex (p/v). Oral Sex (f receiving). Dirty Talk. Multiple Orgasms. Domesticity. Intimacy. Relationship conversations.

WC: 3.6k

NOTES: Hey, surprise surprise. I don't know where this came from, but I just started thinking about older Leon as a dad, and paired with me ovulating, I came up with this. Wanted to get something out before the end of the year, so I hope you like it. Happy New Year from wherever you are! Comments & reblogs are always appreciated!

✰ ── 《 Navigation ⟡ Main Masterlist ⟡ AO3 》

Leon always believed he couldn’t have the things he’s always wanted, that he was destined for a life of misery.

Ever since that night in September all those years ago, he’d lost hope of the idea of the American Dream, a fantasy that was destroyed by the horrors of the same country he was forced to serve and protect. He once imagined his life would be different, living in the suburbs in a house with a white picket fence. Perhaps he’d have a pretty spouse, a few kids, maybe even a dog, he was always fond of bloodhounds and golden retrievers.

But of course, that wasn’t his reality.

So he accepted his fate the moment he miraculously made it out alive from Raccoon City, letting go of any control he had to change his life. He didn’t expect to live this long in the first place, foregoing any extensive plans for a future that remained uncertain with every mission he was sent on. No matter what he did, he remained stuck in a never-ending loop of dread, constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop to be released from the torment of a life he did not choose to have.

That was, until he met you. He didn’t know how he managed to get so lucky to experience a sense of normalcy in his life, albeit it felt like he was always dreaming, waiting for the moment he’d wake up and see you slip away in his arms.

But you didn’t, you never left.

Leon wakes up every morning with the opportunity to take a glimpse at your sleeping face, taking every feature you had into memory. You granted him the chance to experience domesticity, something that was foreign to him at first, but he got adjusted to it and quickly began to crave it. You were what he wanted, a chance at peace in the hellscape that was his life. And over time, he didn’t have a doubt in his mind when he popped the question and happily slipped a ring on your finger when you told him yes.

Having someone waiting back at home was another added motivation for Leon to make it out alive, to return to you. All he ever wants is to be able to fall asleep in your arms after a long day, to have his head nuzzling into your neck and hear you giggling when his stubble tickled you too much. It was what he needed, and he silently thought that after all this time, as long as he had you he’d be happy.

That was why when he came back after his mission to Alcatraz, his new thoughts began to take him off guard. The same desires he had buried for so long slipped out of the crevices of his mind and began to plague him. The desire for more, for the things he never thought he could have. It was like his biological time clock was quickly turning into a ticking time bomb of anxiety ready to explode if it were suppressed any longer. He already had more than what he bargained for, he was alive, he had a home, and he had you. That should be enough, more than enough.

So why does he want more? Wanting anything else felt wrong and undeserving, so he never vocalized it. But you could tell something was on his mind and had been bothering him since he had returned.

It first started with the longing stares, where you’d often catch Leon looking your way a bit too fondly, as if he were taking you in for the last time before looking away. He was always an affectionate person, at least around you, but he was growing clingy. He was never that far away, usually holding your hand and caressing your fingers, cuddling up with you, and stroking your body whenever he could. Not to mention the sex, it was always passionate, always fun, and enjoyable, but recently it was as if Leon did it so frequently with so much vigor that you almost got worried.

No matter how calm he seemed, you knew him well enough to read him by now, and the small changes in his behavior showed you that something else was going on, that he was acting differently.

“You’re thinking again”, you stated matter-of-factly, watching Leon stare off in the distance as he rubbed his bottom lip over and over again. Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, bringing him back to the present as he glanced at you.

“I’m getting old”, he said with a sigh, rubbing your legs that were currently propped up on his thighs from where you lay on the bed with him.

“You’re not getting old, you’re getting older. Big difference”, you commented, hearing him chuckle under his breath. That wasn’t entirely what he meant, but he didn’t know how to say what he wanted without possibly scaring you away or jinxing himself.

“Are you happy? With me I mean?”, he asked you the question in a soft tone, not to signal that he was unhappy with your relationship, but rather he was thinking about something regarding you being together.

“Of course I am. You make me happy. I wouldn’t have said yes if that wasn’t the case”, you told him reassuringly, moving closer to him to hold him by the cheek.

“I guess what I’m asking is are you happy with just me, just us”, Leon said the question as if he were afraid, and you raised an eyebrow to gauge his reaction.

“Leon, if you want to get a pet or something we can. I think a cat would be kinda nice”, you said to him, and he looked at you with a wide grin before he laughed, actually laughed. For a second you’re assuming you said something wrong, but when he regains his bearings, he grabs a hold of your hand and runs his thumbs over your knuckles.

“Although a pet sounds good, that’s not exactly what I’m talking about”, he offered you a smile, giving you a second to think harder about his suggestion when he could see the lightbulb going off at the top of your head.

Kids?

“You’ve been thinking about kids?”

“Is it bad that I am?”

In a way, the revelation that Leon was thinking of having a family was surprising and took you off guard. When you met him, he initially struck you as a family man or someone who would want that down the line. So when he told you that wasn’t on his mind nor a goal of his, you took his word for it and stayed with him because that didn’t bother you, you loved him anyway. Now, it seems that he’s had a change of heart, and it sparked your interest.

“Well no…I don’t think it’s a bad thing. Thought you told me you never wanted them?”, you asked him, leaning into him closer and putting a warm hand on his chest.

“I said that because I didn’t think I could have them. But since coming back from Alcatraz…I don’t know, I keep thinking about it”, he shrugged under you, not meeting your gaze and looking down to the floor.

“I wanted a family when I was younger, but with all the shit I went through I just didn’t think it was possible, or that I could have it. So I simply forgot about it. But now..it popped back into my head and I’ve been thinking about it for a while”

Your eyes softened as you looked at him, seeing the gears turning in his mind.

“It’s probably the old man hormones or something, I must be having a mid-life crisis”, he was joking, trying to use his humor to downplay how he felt, the way he usually did when he was dealing with something that made him uneasy.

“Babe, if you’re thinking about having kids you should’ve told me. I don’t mind you know, I think it’s endearing”, you whispered to him, now holding his face in your hands and offering him your warm gaze.

“So you don’t think I’m crazy for wanting them? Now of all times? I don’t think I should be wanting more than I already have”, you shook your head at that, knowing that Leon would feel guilty for having desires, that he had no room to be selfish.

“I think you deserve to have everything you want, regardless of what they may be. And if kids are on the list, then that’s okay, it’s what you want”, you were speaking to him in a confident voice, the one you used when you were trying to gently knock some sense into him.

“I don’t even know if you want them, with me anyway”, his eyebrows furrowed, hellbent on the assumption that you wouldn’t think twice about avoiding having children, much less have them with him.

“You aren’t the only one who’s been thinking about them you know”, his eyes widened at your confession, and your smile turned a bit sheepish.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. Guess the hormones are also working overtime for me”

Leon blinked once, then twice. You fixated on the way the blues of his irises shifted, reminiscent of the clear sky after a storm had passed. But in reality, what you were looking at was hope interwoven in his eyes, a rare emotion that you’ve only seen a handful of times.

“Is that a yes then?”, you could see the way his lips began to curl up, an optimistic grin plastered on his face now, looking for an answer that would calm the excited beating of his heart.

“If you want to try, then we can try. And whatever happens, happens”, you reassured him once more, feeling him sit up straighter on the bed to kiss you on the lips.

“I love you, you know that?”

“You’ve told me a few times, but I don’t mind reminders”, you grinned at him, finding yourself tackled to the bed the next moment with laughs filling the room.

The next few days felt like a blur, basking in the domestic bliss that otherwise would’ve been a rarity for Leon, he found ways to keep you occupied.

Just like he did now.

Currently with your back on the bed, Leon’s head was between your plush thighs, lapping away at your cunt sometime at noon. It was Sunday, a day of rest meant to hide away from all of your responsibilities and chores. But of course, Leon had different plans when it came to keeping you busy.

“Fuck Leon”, you said with a loud moan, a light layer of sweat covering your body as your fingers yanked at his head, bringing him closer to where you wanted him. Leon groaned against you, tongue curling around your pulsing clit and forcing an arch in your back.

He already pulled one release out of you earlier, right after he found you on the couch wearing nothing but a worn-out T-shirt of his you stole years ago. He couldn’t help but fall in between your legs, head against your chest so he could listen to your heart beating in his ear. The comforting rhythm put Leon at ease, his hands running down the length of your thighs and kneading at your skin while you watched whatever show was currently on the screen. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, already seeing the mischievousness he had written all over his face.

“What are you doing?”, your attention moved from the TV screen to the top of his head, focused on the movement of his hands on your body.

“Nothing”, he told you playfully, his hands were already slipping under the edge of where your shirt covered the top of your hips. He shifted higher up to place a kiss on your lips, moving to your neck and nipping at you gently.

“Just keep watching your show”

It was the last thing he told you before his fingers found refuge in the welcoming warmth of your pussy, rubbing at your clit as you quickly forgot about the plot twist happening in front of you. He was a distraction, as he always was, but you’d never turn him away, you couldn’t even if you tried. And now, you were willingly paying the price of his affection.

Heat started to build up in your lower spine the more you felt Leon’s mouth on you, his needy tongue flicking against every sensitive spot you had before burrowing inside you. It was muscle memory for him, knowing exactly what to do and how to make you fall apart with skill. With every moan you gave, every twitch and shake of your body, Leon drank it all, trying to drown himself in the intensity of your pleasure whenever he had you like this. In between your legs, sucking away at where you needed him most, it was where he belonged.

Your hips were against his face, grinding into him and having his nose press into your clit again, pulling another airy whimper out of you. His hair was wrapped around your fingers, trying to listen in to the shameless sounds Leon made when more of your slick entered his mouth. To him, you tasted like honey, sweet on his tongue like molasses. It was something that curbed his sweet tooth, completely addicted to a taste that only you created when he made you feel good.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck f-fuck”, you didn’t need to announce it, Leon already knew from the way your walls were pulsating around his tongue that you were getting close.

Slipping away from your clenching hole, his tongue went up to run circles against your nub, sucking at it in pulses and snapping the rope of tension in your gut. Your breathing remained stuck in your throat as your second release ran through you, your shaky thighs pinned to his broad shoulders and his mouth continued to prolong your climax. He didn’t stop until the waves of your orgasm calmed down and ebbed away, where only a light pleasurable numbness remained and a dumb smile was left on your face.

No longer feeling you convulsing around him, Leon gave your clit one last kiss before coming back up from between your legs, matching your smile with one of his own. Plush lips covered in your essence, his charm radiated off of him every time he achieved the feat of making you cum.

“Feel good?”, he said teasingly, meshing his lips with yours with a pleasant hum. His tongue curled around your own, giving you a taste of yourself that you graciously took and reveled in.

“I feel good, but I can feel better”, you drew away from his face, giving him a smirk and tugging him closer to you by the waistband of his briefs. With a sneaky hand, you slipped your fingers underneath the soft cotton, gripping his hard length to touch him properly. You heard him grunt again, his breath hitching when you took his earlobe between your teeth and whispered at him.

“I want you inside me already”, you practically purred at him, a shiver running through him followed by another chuckle. Your vulgarity wasn’t new, but it was always something Leon found amusing.

“Yeah? You need me to fuck you sweetheart?”, he wasn’t asking you necessarily, more so reiterating facts that didn’t need your confirmation. Because you did want him to fuck you, you needed it and he knew it. Your hazy eyes watched as he stripped off his briefs, instinctively opening your legs for him, a silent invitation that you craved more.

“Want you to fuck a baby into me”

For a second Leon froze, his eyes widening at your words as they rang in his head. The phrase alone did something to him, brought out a new primal instinct he didn’t know existed until now. It festered carnal lust deep in his gut that shot in two directions, up towards his chest with his heart beating rapidly, and in the opposite way where all of his blood began rushing down south. He blinked at you, the blues of his eyes darkening to a sharp cobalt, and in the next second, he was on you so quickly it almost gave you whiplash.

The tip of his cock teased your entrance with two rubs before being sheathed deep inside in one easy thrust. Your body gave no resistance, welcoming the feeling of Leon stretching you out just the way you liked. Strong hands digging into the back of your thighs, he pushed your knees down against the mattress and closer to your chest, letting him slip that much deeper into you and leaving you gasping underneath him.

Dragging his hips back once before slamming back into you with intention, Leon fucked you without restraint, pinning you down against the mattress and ruining you for any other person, past, present, and future. He didn’t change his pace, filling in every possible gap, his dick hitting your deepest spots and kissing your cervix with every push and pull of his body. You swear you could feel him trying to breach your womb, the thought alone turning your head to mush. The urge of wanting him to leave his mark inside you grew like never before, your eyes rolling to the back of your head with another broken sob coming from your lips.

“Gonna fill you up. Is that what you want?”, he muttered, huffing out a breath and pounding his hips into you harshly to where the room filled with an audible skin-slapping sound.

“Yes, yes, I need it so bad!”, you felt him shift, forcing your knees down until they were parallel to your ears and effectively putting you into a mating press. His torso leaned more into you, caging you in and taking in your fucked out face with pride.

“Need me to breed you? Fuck a baby into you, huh?”, letting go of one of your legs to press his thumb against your clit, he rubbed against it and felt you clench around his cock. Your grip on the bedsheets tightened, bleary eyes looking up into him as he fucked you with determination.

“Yeah, I’ll make you a momma don’t you worry”

He said it like it was a promise, a sacred vow he didn’t plan on breaking. It was harsh fucking that was usually reserved for whenever you were both stressed and pent up. But now he was on a mission, making it his personal goal to not stop until he gave you what you both desired.

In the back of his mind, he was imagining what you would look like pregnant. The soft expanse of your stretched-out tummy that continues to grow as your child develops along with you. He pictured the way your body will start to fill in a bit more, becoming more soft and curvy in spots you didn’t consider previously. The heaviness of your breasts and the changes in sensitivity when they filled up with milk, something that he can’t wait to see and taste for himself. Every image that filled his head only made his cock throb and his thrusting intensify.

“Gonna look so pretty, all round for me”, he was lost in his thoughts, mumbling to himself and driving into you so good he hit that soft spot tucked inside. Your mind had turned to static, his words only bringing you that much closer to the edge and your legs shaking from how they were bent.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up, make sure it catches, right here”, he placed a finger right underneath your belly button and pressed into your skin, the friction of his touch rapidly sending you into your next orgasm unexpectedly.

Throwing your head back against the pillow, you couldn’t warn Leon when you felt yourself coming again for him, your walls flexing around him and a wail filling the room. His thumb continued to stroke tight circles on your clit as he fucked you through your release, thrusting sloppily against you before cumming inside with a resounding grumble of your name. His hips were flushed with yours, grinding into you until he had nothing left to give, panting against your neck and kissing your nape.

You felt Leon slip out of you, gently putting your legs down back on the bed and his spend starting to drip down your thighs. With two of his fingers, he collected some of his release that spilled out of you and pushed it back inside your body, plugging you up with his digits to make sure none of it would dribble out.

“Can’t waste it, hold it there for me”, he said, making you keen and grip him tighter. Drawing out his fingers, he brought them to your lips, grinning when you wrapped your tongue around them to lick off the remnants of his taste.

“You think this one did it?”, you asked him tiredly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to give him soft pecks, growing clingy and wanting more of his affection.

“Hopefully, but there’s nothing wrong with a little more practice”, Leon smirked at you, giving you a wet passionate kiss and rekindling the flame of desire once more.

You knew that he wasn’t going to stop until he gave you what you both wanted, a happy family in a happy home. Of course, you had zero complaints, you’d do anything to make him happy and give him what he deserves.

Maybe just maybe, Leon will get his dream after all.

©️ ovaryacted 2023. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

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hotpinkstars · 1 month

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LAZY MORNINGS - aventurine x reader

- your husband gets a call early in the morning, kicking a start to your day. but instead of him going into work, he stays in your arms.

- hellooo everyone! i'm back and i changed my theme up a little bit. thank you to all of the condolences i received, it made me smile and also made me happy :) but i feel ready enough to write once again, and i've been having aventurine brainrot...... hm... also my bad if this is really ooc i've read most of the penacony story and have payed extra to aventurines parts (i can also write ratio for all you ratio simps who want more food..) but my brain is wired weird so.... i fuck some things up anyways enjoy!!!!!!!!!

- no warnings, wc 528

You wake up, and immediately check the clock on the side of your nightstand. It reads 5:30 am.

You rub your eyes, scanning the room before your eyes land on your husband, Aventurine, who's got one hand in his hair and the other holding his phone up to his ear.

He was a beautiful sight; his eyes half open, hair messy, and pajamas in a bundle with one button keeping it on his torso. You lay a hand on the naked part of his chest, letting him know you were awake. He looks down at you, shooting you a soft smile before speaking into his phone.

“...Alright, I understand,” He said, his tone laced with irritation and sleepiness. “Lets schedule the interview for today.”

You sighed, replacing your hand with your head, trying to go back to sleep. You pull the silk sheets over your ear, everything below your eyes covered by the warm covers. Aventurine wraps an arm around your body, hanging up on the man who called to inform him of what you assumed was something important, and put his phone down next to him.

“Sorry if I woke you, sweetheart,” He sighs, wrapping his other arm around your torso. You nuzzle into him, eyes closed. You mumble something incoherent, and he chuckles. “Someones tired this morning.”

You nod, and he kisses the top of your head. “Do you have to leave early this morning?”

“Nope, not today. They wanted me to, but I'll just say I didn’t feel well enough to get out of bed. I don’t miss work too often, so they won't bat too much of an eye, hopefully."

You giggle a bit, snuggling even deeper into his chest, his heartbeat audible. It comforted you, it always does, and you could’ve fallen asleep right away if it weren’t for his voice keeping you conscious.

“I wish I could bring you to work with me, but unfortunately I can’t. I have to work with Ratio again today,” he groans, putting a hand up to his forehead. “I’d rather spare you of the nuisance he is.”

You laugh once more. “I bet he’s not that bad. You just make him sound like a geek, that’s all.”

“He’s much more than that. Much more insufferable.”

“I doubt it.”

You both laugh before simply holding each other. It seemed like it was only the two of you on this planet; the sounds of birds chirping brought a harmonious feeling, and it was as if none of your worries were able to break through your bedroom door and haunt you.

You tried to stay awake with your husband, considering he was probably up for the day due to the ever so rude interruption at such an early time in the morning. He was used to waking at this time, so he would’ve likely been up soon anyway. You, on the other hand, usually wake up when he’s long gone for the day, so it’s just natural to want to sleep a little longer.

“Fall back asleep, babe,” he pressed a tiny peck to the top of your head, burying his nose in your soft locks. “I’ll be here when you wake back up.”

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #aventurine #kakavasha #aventurine x reader #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #kakavasha x reader

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sprout-fics · 9 months

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(Gif originally by @shadow0-1)

Today. Yesterday. Tomorrow. Again.

(Soap x GN! Reader)

Rating: Mature Wordcount: 5400 Tags: Doomed Narrative, Time Loop AU, Heavy Angst, Blood and Injury, Self-Sacrifice, Whump, Hurt Very Little Comfort, Happy Ending, (I PROMISE THERE'S A HAPPY ENDING!!) Warnings: Major character death. That's...literally the plot A/N: Hi here's the doomed timelines AU nobody asked for

Call of Duty Masterlist

Summary:

The 23rd time you meet Soap, you don’t bother to smile. You know how this ends.

“Nice to meet you, Soap.” You say for the 23rd time, words that have passed your lips in more lifetimes that you wish you didn’t remember. “I look forward to working with you.”

And I don’t look forward to watching you die.

The first time you meet Soap, it’s how you expect.

It’s a warm spring day, the kind where you need to shed layers in the brightness of afternoon, only to don them again come sunset. He stands just beyond the shade of the barracks, awash in sunlight that seems to catch the blue of his eyes. You blink as you take him in, and it’s the only barest indication you give at the instant impression that he’s handsome.

“Sergeant John MacTavish, at your service.” He tells you with a grin, leaning forward to extend his hand to you. You reach for it automatically, remember yourself and offer a pleasant smile in return, along with your name.

“Looking forward to working with you, John.” You reply, and John- Johnny, as you’d come to call him in the tender moments between you, chuckles.

“Call me ‘Soap’.” He tells you easily, and you smile a bit wryly, tilting your head at him.

“The hell kind of name is ‘Soap’?”

- - - - -

It’s easy to work with Soap. He has a cheery, bright demeanor to him that is immediately endearing. He’s friendly, outgoing. His smile is contagious, and the bark of his laughter becomes familiar to you. You listen and guffaw at his jokes over the comms, try vainly to hide your smile when he says them before you.

It only makes his eyes twinkle to see you try and conceal your amusement, and that becomes familiar too- the sparkle of his irises with endless mirth.

He catches you during your duties, sidles up beside you during weapons training, becomes the first to suggest himself as your partner during drills. The company he offers is warm, welcome, lifting the dusky heaviness of your heart into something more tender, fragile. You hold it for him, feel his grin bleed into yours, lay awake at night and sometimes think about the shake of his shoulders when you get him to laugh.

You feel endlessly special when he devotes his time to you, feel as if Soap treats you like you’re the only person in the world. Even in the presence of others he finds ways to indulge himself in you. A nudge of his boot against yours under the table of the briefing room, tossing you an extra round of ammo as you gear up for a mission, finding an excuse to sit next to you on the chopper ride home. Soap feels like a breath of fresh air, the first taste of a cool breeze during summer, a respite from the weight of the world.

Like two stars in orbit, you circle each other, drawing closer into the gravity of each other’s gazes. You try at first to resist, to hold yourself away from the feelings of the other sergeant, knowing at any moment that he could be taken from you. It’s written in the wheels of fate, your destinies as soldiers. If you’re lucky, if you stay alert, if you train hard enough, if chance smiles upon you, maybe you’ll both live to a day where the sound of rockets and bullet-fire doesn’t haunt your waking dreams.

Yet you can’t resist him. When you fall asleep against his shoulder after a days long mission with hardly any sleep, when he playfully grapples with you over the last slice of pizza during movie night, when he gives you that smile during a rare night off-base at the pub- how can you resist?

Gravity pulses between you when you at last fall into him, feel his breath against your lips as your fingers comb through his mohawk. He breathes the blessing of your name against the corner of your mouth in a panting gasp, flexes his fingers across the small of your back when he drags you even closer. The taste of him is honey and ale, a sweetness with a beloved bitter aftertaste, one you drink down greedily in the form of his moans against your flesh.

When you lay in bed together after, sweaty limbs tangled together, you watch the tender, soulful smile form across the handsome planes of his face, and you know.

He’s yours.

There’s kisses stolen in the hangar before take off, moments hidden in the shadows of safehouses. He cups your face and lifts it to him in the aftermath of battle, smears ash against your cheek with his gloved thumb. You try to carve each moment into your heart, never fail to try and memorize the glint of his eyes, the soft slope of his smile. You know the shape of him in the darkness of his bedroom, know the sound of his voice even blinded by the brightness of his mere presence.

Johnny is the sun- emanating a gentle, beckoning warmth from afar. Yet when you get closer you see the glory of his inferno, see the flashing burn of his eyes in the midst of battle. The solar flare of his battle cry seems to carry you like soar of Helios's chariot upwards into the heavens of his devotion. When you touch him, you’re seared, branded by his fingers as they trace sentimental sketches across the dip of your waist. You want to bask in him, feel the ember of his stare as he gazes at you silently across the table of the restaurant he takes you to for your official first date.

“What?” You ask him, averting your eyes a little bashfully, catching his shrug in your periphery.

“Just lookin’.” He replies with a grin, his cheek smushed as he balances on his hand. “Just seeing how pretty you are.”

You kiss him for that, and when he laughs you kiss him again.

You kiss him a thousand times, each as sweet and passionate as the last, know the curve of his smile on your lips. You kiss him before your next mission, when he holds you against the wall of the armory and tells you how he can’t wait until you both get back.

He doesn’t. He doesn’t come back.

He’s looking at you in the chopper when you hear the sound of the RPG. The explosion has him backlit for all of a moment before the world is spinning, the roar of the dying engine in your ears and Price’s holler to “BAIL BAIL BAIL-!!”

You reach for the rope, glance behind you to see Soap not out of his seat- a breed of panic in his eyes unlike that you’ve ever seen from him. The jammed clasp of his strap is caught in his hands as he tugs at it desperately, and you meet his gaze for all of a moment, seeing the imminent knowledge of what comes next in his beautiful blue eyes.

You fall, without him, are caught by the canopy of trees where the snap of branches under you muffles the distant sound of the helicopter exploding as it lands.

You ignore Price’s orders, run desperately for the wreckage, only to be greeted by an inferno that stretches towards the sky.

Johnny is on fire, and this time when you reach for the burn of him the flames are real. They scorch your flesh and you shout his name even as you try to reach him, already knowing it’s too late. When Ghost and the others haul you back you fall to your knees, grip the scorched earth beneath your fingers and scream.

And then you wake up.

Warm springtime.

“Sergeant John MacTavish, at your service.” He tells you with a grin, leaning forward to extend his hand to you.

You blink, heart still hammering in your chest, feeling the warmth of flames chase you even as songbirds sing in the trees. Yet Johnny is alive before you, whole, smiling, looking so much like the man he was when you met him for the very first time.

“Was it a nightmare?” You ask him breathlessly, and Johnny- Soap- merely arches a bewildered eyebrow at you.

“What?”

Nightmares, you come to learn, are so much more kind.

It happens all as it did before. The jokes over comms, the glancing gazes over drills, the bump of elbows in the mess hall. It’s familiar, sweet, amorous…

And you know something is terribly, terribly wrong.

Back to the start, somehow. You don’t know how, you don’t know why- but there’s no denying what has happened. Johnny died. You went back, and now you have a chance to save him.

It’s months before the helicopter crash. You replay the scene over and over again in your mind, and you keep arriving back to the look in Johnny’s eyes as realization washed across them. Everyone who dies a sudden death is confused, scared, not ready, and the knowledge and horror you saw in his stare haunts your waking dreams.

Yet Johnny falls in love with you just as he did before, and you fall into him so readily, desperate to accept his warmth in the wake of his death. Orpheus embracing Eurydice, you try to trace him into your skin, imbue the memory of him into the marrow of your bones and pray that you can reverse his fate. The gears of destiny tick in the back of your mind even as he stares at you over the restaurant table on the evening before your departure.

“Just lookin’.” He tells you when you return his stare, mistaking your concern for confusion. “Just seeing how pretty you are.”

When you kiss him, you try to swallow the sob in your throat.

When you get on the helicopter, you point out his jammed strap with shaking fingers, and he blinks in astonishment.

“Hell’s bells.” He huffs, fiddling with it before it comes loose, and it stays that way for the remainder of your journey. “That coulda been terrible, ey bonnie?”

He makes it out this time, and when he rises from the forest floor he rushes to you, cups your face in his hands and stares down with eyes glinting in concern.

“Sweetheart.” He breathes, chest heaving with exhilaration. “Are you hur-”

He jerks back at the sound of a gunshot, and you drop automatically, crawl to him just in time to catch his hand as he reaches for you. The bullet wound at his collarbone gushes red, red, red, and your hands are coated in it as you plead, tell him he’s going to be okay-

The light fades from his eyes, still staring up at you, the last thing he sees.

You still feel his heartbeat on your hands when you wake up.

“Sergeant John MacTavish, at your service.” He tells you with a grin, leaning forward to extend his hand to you. You tremble, take it and see him blink in surprise when he feels the uncontrollable shake of your palm against his.

The second time, you think it’s a fluke, a horrible prank.

He steps on a landmine, scattered to the four winds.

The third time, you’re petrified.

A man hidden in the darkness, he lunges for you. Johnny pushes him aside. The blade wedges between his ribs.

The fourth time, you beg destiny for answers.

You make it to the compound, the fence lights him up like a firework.

The fifth time, you try to tell him, only to find your throat clogged, unable to speak. You try to tell him a hundred more times in the months that follow, and each time the words are stolen from your breath, as if fate forbids you to inform him of his doomed destiny.

“...Nothing.” You tell him when he asks after you’ve tried to speak over the restaurant table, your food barely touched.

Johnny shrugs. “Doesna matter, too busy looking at how pretty you are.”

You cry silently that night in his bed, while he dozes gently next to you, unaware of what awaits him.

You can’t tell him. You don’t know how to save him. You still love him.

He’ll forget he knows you, forget he loves you by the time he wakes up

You’ve found eight ways for Soap to die, and have taken years to defy all of them. You have to write them down everytime you wake up unless you somehow forget. The notebook is filled with scribbled reminders, ever present in your pocket even as he steals the last slice of pizza out from under you.

He doesn’t have enough ammo. Remind him to take extra clips

He put his knife on the wrong strap that he usually does, fix it for him.

He steps on the landmine fourteen steps after the creek. Stop him.

You can’t stop trying. Not when it’s him.

Yet each time you find a way to outsmart the latest execution of him, fate finds one more thing to steal him out from under you. Unstoppable, imminent, condemned to wake up and see his smiling face mere moments after his heartbeat slows to nothingness.

“I love you.” You whisper as you cradle his head in your lap, knowing he already can’t hear you, glassy eyes staring up at the sky. “I’ll see you soon.”

You burst into tears by the 19th time, buckling in on yourself much to the shock of the men around you, relaying startled looks of confusion between them. You excuse yourself, find a dark corner to fold into and sob, knowing this time you’ll fail too.

It’s Soap who finds you, sits beside you, says barely a word when you cry into his shoulder even though he doesn’t know you. Not yet.

Falling in love with him each time is painful. Your heart beats for him and him alone, but you know it’s only a matter of time before you lose him again. You’ll go right back to the start, to him having just met you, not yet falling into gravity with you, even as you hear the tick of gears turning ever closer to the moment you’ll watch him die.

“Don’t you know me?” You want to ask him, want to bunch his shirt between your fists and let tears stream down your face. “Don’t you know you loved me?”

His smile doesn’t waver. He jokes and laughs and playfully teases you and it hurts. It’s a balm that burns, heals your heart and yet doesn’t erase the scar. He’s your only comfort, the only thing you have as you feel your soul chipped a little further each time he leaves you. You can’t tell him why you cry into his arms, can’t confess to him that you’ve seen him die more ways than you care to remember, that you’ve tried to save him in dozens of lifetimes and he doesn’t even know.

He holds you even though he doesn’t understand, hushes sweet endearments into your hair and comforts you, not knowing how this will end.

“I love you.” He tells you softly as you hiccup against his chest, not knowing what else to say. “Ever since the moment I first saw you, I’ve loved you.”

Your tears drip into the fancy china at the restaurant he takes you to and Johnny looks afraid.

The 23rd time you meet Soap, you don’t bother to smile. You know how this ends.

“Nice to meet you, Soap.” You say for the 23rd time, words that have passed your lips in more lifetimes that you wish you didn’t remember. “I look forward to working with you.”

And I don’t look forward to watching you die.

He looks at you, blinks. His brow furrows.

“How’d you know my name?”

This time, you forget to warn him about the rigged doorway, and he vanishes in a flash and puff of smoke.

“Don’t cry.” He wheezes when you bend over him, words pouring from your lips in a ceaseless mantra. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. “I always hated watching ye cry.”

You wake up. Everything happens as it did before. You meet him, you listen to the sound of his laugh, you finish one of his jokes over the comms and he groans.

“Don’t tell me ye know that one too!” He grouses, and when you smile your chest aches with the force of thirty lifetimes.

You place a palm against his back, unable to help yourself as you enter the compound, wanting to feel the frame of his body just one more time before destiny finds a new way to kill him. He looks at you over his shoulder, smiles even as uncertainty colors the blueness of his gaze.

“Yer like my guardian angel.” He tells you, still smiling even after all this time. “Dannea what I’d do w’out ye.”

A grenade at the staircase. He pushes you out of the way. He doesn’t duck out of the way in time.

You close your eyes when you wake up. You can’t bear to look at him, knowing you’ll just lose him again.

You try to keep him from loving you, thinking perhaps that is the crime to warrant this eternal punishment. You can’t stop loving him, but maybe, maybe you can stop him from loving you. Maybe if you never have him to begin with, maybe you can save him.

Yet Johnny is drawn to you anyways, sucked in by the way your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, like a moth to an infant flame. He hovers at the fringes of your soul, tries desperately to find his way inside, and you can’t help but let him. He comforts you when you cry against the futility of it all, and there’s nothing you can say to him to explain. You wet his shirt with your tears, knowing it’ll be the one he dies in.

The next time, you force yourself to not speak to him, to try and avoid him at all costs, try everything to drive him away. If he never loved you to start, then maybe he’ll live. He seems pre-ordained to find a way to confess to you, ask why you hate him so, look at you through glistening eyes and ask “What did I do?”

You wonder if maybe that’s destiny too, if it’s truly Soap falling in love with you, or his strings being pulled by the same machinations that inscribe his death.

When he asks you again, tries to approach you with flowers and apologies, and offers to take you to dinner on the eve of his death, you wheel on him in desperate fury.

“You don’t actually love me!” You cry, face hot with tears. “Can’t you see that?! All this time it’s just- it’s just the story we’re in. Just because you’re supposed to love me doesn’t mean you do. It’s all just a fucking lie.”

Soap is stunned, too shocked to speak. In all the dozens of lives you’d lived, you’ve never ever yelled at him before.

Hurt flashes across his eyes. His eyes drop along with his hands, the bouquet limp in his grip. The bitterness of his smile as he refuses to look at you threatens to shatter your heart like glass.

“You hate me.” He murmurs, as if to himself. “I’m…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean tae…”

He falls silent, and eventually he walks away.

You don’t get on the chopper this time. You can’t stand to watch him die again.

You try to tell him again, ask him why. Why does he have to torture you like this? Why love you, why allow you to love him so deeply, only for him to leave at the end of this doomed story bound to repeat? Why would he love you?

He looks torn. He’s hurt. He wants to comfort you. He doesn’t know what to say

“Why wouldn’t I love you?” He asks in a whisper, devastated by your outburst.

You can’t speak. You’re forbidden to tell him. You want to. You can’t.

“Bonnie-” He tries, stepping forward, trying to embrace you as if that will somehow solve everything.

“No.” You manage, pressing backwards as he reaches for you, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively. Pain dances across his eyes. “Go away, Johnny.”

He leaves.

He dies anyway.

When you wake up, your body feels weighed down with the passage of a hundred lifetimes, and your legs fall out from under you without warning. Johnny hauls you into his arms, his blue stare flickering with concern.

You forgot how much you love being held by him.

This time, you don’t push him away. In fact, you never do again.

Yet things are different now. It’s subtle at first, things you take for granted. Something in this story has changed, and in turn it’s changed him. Johnny walks into rooms and seems to forget why he’s there. He asks what day it is and frowns in confusion when Ghost replies blandly for the second time that day.

“Didn’t you already tell us this?” He asks of Price during a meeting, and Gaz’s head snaps to him, to the smartness of his tone towards your captain.

“No.” Price responds gruffly, succinctly, and continues on. You watch Soap, see the way he doesn’t seem to understand. His fingers tap on the table, and it’s a small gesture meant to conceal the worry in his eyes- the knowledge that maybe, maybe he’s been here before.

“I saw you in a dream, once.” He tells you one night as you both clamber onto the roof of the barracks to stare at the stars. “Before I even met you.”

You stare at him, and he laughs a little nervously, rubbing at his nape. “A bit crazy, eh? Sounds like am’ off ma heid.”

You shake your head, slide your hand over his, feel your heart thump when he looks at you in surprise. “Tell me.” You whisper, and when he smiles you shudder, feel the weight of destiny press heavy on your shoulders.

“I saw you crying.” He murmurs, and his eyes are a little distant, like he’s looking back at a life that no longer exists. “I told you not to cry.”

“Don’t cry.” He wheezes when you bend over him, words pouring from your lips in a ceaseless mantra. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. “I always hated watching ye cry.”

This time, you nearly die beside him, and almost wish fate would take you too.

He has nightmares now. He thrashes in his bed, a cold sweat dampening his skin when he wakes. You ask him what it was, what vision plagues him, and he only shakes his head, eyes distant and terrified. He clings to you like he’s a little boy frightened by shadows, gazes at something you can’t see but know all the same. He doesn’t have the words, but he doesn’t need them.

You roll over one night, startled to find him wide awake, eyes unblinking as he stares at you. His voice sounds like an echo of himself, a dark magic winding through his words that sound like an all too familiar prophecy.

“I saw myself die.” He tells you, in a voice you’ve never heard- one you’ll never forget. “You were there- and then you weren’t.”

He finds bruises on himself the next morning, in the same places you watched him become riddled with bullet holes.

You’re running out of time. You don’t know when you’ll wake up and he won’t be there. You don’t know if this will be the last time you ever see him.

“Please.” You beg him, tugging on the straps of his vest as he steps towards the chopper. “Johnny please, don’t. Stay here. Don’t go.”

His eyes shine with worry at the sudden, fervent desperation in your words, and he opens his mouth to respond-

Only for his eyes to take on that foreign, distant stare once more.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He asks, and once more you’re forbidden to tell him.

Because you’ll die. Because I’ll be forced to watch. Because I have no way to stop it. Because I’ve seen it happen a hundred times and I can’t do it anymore.

Inevitably, you arrive here, and this singular moment in time, at the place where you’ve yet to find the part in which he survives.

It always ends like this.

You survive the crash, fend off the ensuing ambush, weave past the landmines and the soldiers patrolling the perimeter, disable the electric fence and disarm the rigged door. You make it inside, stop him before he triggers the tripwire, disarm the pressure plate, lob the grenade back up the stairs, open fire on the door to his left before he passes it. You anticipate the reinforcements at your back, fix the radio when you signal for ex-fil, remember to give him your extra ammo. You know when the roof collapses and drag him to safety, point out the missed charge in his demolitions package, take out the turret before he even spots it-

Then you arrive here.

“The detonator doesn’t work.” He tells you for the thirty sixth time, out of a hundred and forty eight lifetimes. You know what comes next. The chopper will get here, you will be overrun, and Johnny will kiss you one last time with an apology, push you into Gaz’s arms even as you scream. Then he’ll make his way to the control room without you all, will stay behind and make it his final, valiant act.

Then you’ll watch the facility explode with him still inside, hear the gears of fate click and send you hurtling back to the beginning.

If you stop him, you’ll all be shot down. You’ll be the only survivor of the crash, and will see the broken bodies of your teammates join him. Or someone else will take his place, and your rescue chopper will be shot down anyways.

There’s no escape. This is always the moment that you can’t save him from. Thirty six lifetimes and you know in just a few minutes you’ll wake up, will hear his voice begin it all again, over and over until one day you wake up and he isn’t there.

“Sergeant John MacTavish, at your service.” He tells you with a grin, leaning forward to extend his hand to you.

You had a dream last time. You were both sitting at the restaurant table, and you spoke before he could.

“Are you going to tell me how pretty I am?” You asked him, swallowing down grief, feeling it bloom like a macabre bouquet when the sound of his joyous laughter tickled your soul.

“Stole the words right from mah mouth.” He chuckled.

You blinked, and the seat across from you was suddenly empty.

You close your eyes, in this moment, try once more to find the part where you all make it out alive. You try to find the part where you don’t lose him. Where you’ll go back to that restaurant and it’ll be the last time.

You’ve had enough.

“I’m going to stay.” Soap declares, eyes grim with resolve.

He turns to you.

You close the distance, reach up and kiss him. You tangle your fingers in his mohawk like you did the very first time, listen to his shocked gasp as you try and drink in the taste of him just one more time. Just one more time.

Honey and ale. A bittersweet goodbye.

You snatch the detonator from his hands, raise your hands to his shoulders and push.

He topples backwards, nearly colliding with Price, and it gives you just enough time to bolt for the door leading towards the control room, locking it behind you.

Soap screams your name, hurls himself at the door, frantic desperation coloring his beautiful blue eyes. The color of a sky in summer time, of a fresh breeze that reminds you so much of him.

There’s a nervous smile on his lips, one that doesn’t reach his eyes. He thinks it’s a prank, another joke between you two, and he says just as much, voice wavering when he asks you to unlock the door.

“I’m sorry, Johnny.” You whisper, tears warming your eyes. “I can’t lose you again.”

Confusion makes him pause, but it’s only for a moment.

“Open the door.” He demands then, jiggling the lock uselessly as his voice rises. “OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!!”

“I love you.” You whisper, raising your hand to the glass pane, your splayed palm against his closed fist and the world between them. “In this lifetime, and the one before. Ever since the day I met you, I’ve loved you, Johnny.”

He calls your name, voice cracking in desperation and he begs you to come back. You take a few more moments, and think to yourself how unkind it is that the last time you see him will be like this. Afraid, broken, desperate.

Terrified.

Just like how he was all that time ago, the first time you failed to save him.

Not this time.

“Don’t cry.” You tell him quietly. “I always hated watching you cry.”

You leave him even as he screams after you, running in the direction of the control room.

You don’t know this part. You’ve only ever watched Johnny or one of them vanish in this direction. You aren’t prepared for this the way you are with the rest of this story. You’re not ready for the hail of gunfire that greets you, the bullets ripping through flesh. Your blood drips red onto the floor, you run low on ammo, and yet somehow you press on.

Not this time. You think. Not ever again. You can’t take him from me any longer. I won’t allow it.

You’re limping, heavily wounded, riddled with bullet holes, chest seizing and smearing an abstract of crimson behind you as you finally make it to the control room. By the time you dispatch the remaining soldiers you’re on the floor, feeling the corners of your vision pulse red and black as the gears turn, as the clock ticks down.

The timer has just enough time to make it out once you start it. You know you won’t be able to.

So you watch the numbers click on the countdown, flop onto your back and cry.

You didn’t want this.

You wanted just a little more time. Maybe you should have let him go, let him finish this if only he can wake up and not know you. Maybe you should have let him die one more time, if only to get the chance to fall asleep in his arms months into the future and past, knowing he was going to die.

It’s too late now, and as the numbers click down, as your heartbeat thrums in your ears and your vision pulses red, you can only try to remember the feeling of his smile against your lips, the sound of his laughter, your name breathed into your skin as he wraps his arms around you, safe from destiny in his embrace.

“Ever since the moment I first saw you, I’ve loved you.”

You love him. You’ve always loved him. In this lifetime, in the hundred lifetimes before. In a thousand lifetimes to come you will still love him. Even if you go back, wake up again to that warm spring day, you know you will only love him once more.

You wish he was here, at the end, and wish that even if he was he’d find a way to live without you.

When you exhale, it’s the sound of his name, the memory of his eyes as they stare across you from the restaurant table, full of endless devotion.

The world goes dark.

And then you wake up.

It’s bright.

You don’t expect what comes next.

There’s no birdsong. No springtime warmth. Only the beep of a heart monitor, the feeling of cottony sheets tucked into a hospital bed, the fluorescent glow of overhead lights.

And the sound of a voice.

Johnny is holding your hand, head bowed, tears falling freely down his face.

“I did it.” He sobs, words choking his throat, shoulders trembling.

Whole. Alive. Just like you.

“I did it.” He cries again, looking up and finding your eyes with his that swim with emotion. When he speaks, it sounds like the weight of a hundred lifetimes presses down on him.

“This time. This time, I saved you.”

Taglist: @soapskneebrace @guyfieriii @writeforfandoms @alicesfracturedmirror

#john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #Soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #my writing #my fic #to add to masterlist #Alex play Dumb Ways to Die

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zoesmp4 · 14 days

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hiiii i’ll throw my other hat in the ring and give you a thg req!!

angst to comfort fic because why not

but like reader is from district 7 and won the 73rd games, and much like lucy gray, used their wits and charm to win the games. and GOD FORBID SNOWS PAST COMES BACK TO HAUNT HIM they end up in the same room with finnick during the ring, and they grow closer and end up making a bond and falling in love

fast forward to the sewer, and reader sees finnick struggling with the mutts as katniss tries to usher them out of the sewer as reader is screaming and fighting to get back to him and eventually runs straight into the pile, almost dying

anyway they wake up losing an arm, but with finnick asleep at her side 🩶🩶

LOVE U BAEEEE

YOU’RE OKAY “look at me, you’re okay.” finnick odair x fem!reader

tags: blood, swearing, htc, violence, use of y/n

a/n: hii pooksters, i have retuned from the dead w/ my first thg fic!! req from my bae gracie, i changed up the losing the arm part because i didn’t really know if i could write it well, so im super sorry for that :( i don’t know how i feel ab this one, but i hope you enjoy!!

god, how you hated the hunger games. you weren’t expecting to be back, but here you were.

when you had won the 73rd hunger games, you thought that was the end. you thought you could just return to your district, and forget all about the mortifying experience.

but you were wrong. so wrong. all of that work, all of the trauma? useless. all of your efforts just didn’t matter. your charm and cleverness played a huge role in helping you to win the games. you thought you were smart, but you werent. you were stupid to think the capitol would leave you alone.

they would never ever leave you alone. they couldn’t give you a fucking break. here they were, trying to kill you, again.

them being them, they tried to make it different this time. they decided to make everyone room with tributes from different districts.

you knew they wanted to cause stuff between everyone. but you weren’t gonna let them get what they want. you told yourself you were just gonna have to deal with whoever you got.

to your luck, you were paired up with the “golden boy.” finnick odair, in the flesh. hooray.

you thought it would suck. back in the hunger games once again, and rooming with this guy? it seemed like hell. that was until you started to get to know him better.

finnick was surprisingly sweet. really sweet. he was also funny. and you couldn’t deny it, he was really attractive. “what are you looking at?” you said, noticing how his gaze was directed towards your lips.

“nothing, your smile is just really pretty.” he replied. you felt your cheeks start to heat up. “what, cat got your tongue?” he taunted, a smirk forming on his face. “you wish. goodnight finnick.” you said, trying to hide the fact that you were flustered.

little did you know, you and him would form quite a complex relationship.

“you win.” he said, while you two were perched in front of a tree, the leaves rustling with every slight movement. both of your partners had died by now. it was just katniss, peeta, you, and him in a truce.

you brought your head up and looked at him. you two locked eyes before you opened your mouth to speak, “huh?” what was he talking about? “you win.” “i win what?”

“my heart.”

that’s all it took. that’s all it took for you to realize how much you really liked him. you can guess what happened after that. that’s right, you and finnick started dating during the games.

from that moment on, you two swore to never let anything happen to the other. you both cared about each other too much to let that happen.

so when you were all fighting for your fucking life in that stupid tunnel, you were just trying to get back to finnick. katniss was trying her hardest to get you out, but you weren’t leaving until you knew finnick was okay.

“y/n, you need to go now!” she yelled, holding you back, trying to help finnick herself. she prioritized everyone over herself, which was something you admired about her. but you needed to get him.

“FINNICK!” you screamed, your voice echoing throughout the tunnel as you finally escaped from her grasp. you ran toward the pile of mutts, plunging your knife into one. “you shouldn’t be here!” finnick yelled, his voice strained with worry.

you ignored his pleading, continuing to fight with all your strength. as you clashed with the horrid creatures in the dimly lit tunnel, you felt fear and adrenaline pump into you. you thought it was going okay, until you felt a tug at your ankle.

“Y/N!” is all you heard before you were pulled down into the water by a mutt. you tried to fight back, but it was no use. suddenly, you felt sharp teeth sink into your stomach.

it was a type of pain you hadn’t experienced in a long, long time. in a matter of seconds, finnick was at your side, fighting off the mutt which leaned on top of you. he was livid.

you clutched your side, breathing heavily as a mixture of water and blood dripped down your body. finnick quickly took you into his arms, and eyed your protruding wound. he then reached out his hands to cradle your face.

“you’re gonna be fine baby, i promise won’t let anything happen to you. jus- just stay awake.” he said, trying to keep his voice from trembling as he tried his best to hurry to the ladder where everyone else was, you still engulfed in his arms.

“i-i can’t. i don’t think m’ gonna make it.” you struggle to get out, tears starting to stream down your face. he wasn’t gonna let this happen. “hey, look at me.” he said, trying to reassure you that you were going to be alright.

“look at me, you’re okay.”

that was all you could remember. everything else was a blur after that. you can remember faint yelling, but you can’t quite decipher what was being said.

you woke up beside finnick. he had his arm wrapped around your body, and your faces were inches apart. your wound was all patched up, but it was still painful. hey, look on the bright side though. finnick had kept his promise. he made sure things got better.

you were okay.

#the hunger games #finnick odair #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair imagines #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x fem!reader #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games oneshot #the hunger games imagines #sam claflin #finnick odair smut #the hunger games smut #finnick odair angst #the hunger games angst

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jisungsdaydreamer · 10 months

Text

Love Playlist #3: Make It Right (Lee Know)

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME»

"It hurts to love you."

Pairing: Lee Know x Fem!reader Genre: college au, angst, exes to lovers Warnings: swearing, messy break-up, mc has a fear of the dark, mild haunted house/Halloween descriptions Word Count: 18.3k

*Written for @skzwritingcafe's July/August event: Summertime Confessions ☀️

Special thanks to @baekhyyun & @simpforyongbokk for beta-reading!! 💘

“I love you.”

You roll your eyes and shove Minho away, trying to suppress the giggles that threaten to spill out. “Stop that. We need to concentrate, or we’ll never find an apartment.”

“I’m definitely concentrating.” Minho grins mischievously. “On you.”

Laughing at his antics, you shake your head, shutting your computer for a brief intermission to tend to Minho’s insatiable appetite for your attention. Your boyfriend never fails to make you smile, no matter what.

“I love you too, you menace.”

Minho wakes up with a start. He groggily glances over at the clock hanging on the wall in front of him. Nearly 3 a.m. Slinging his legs over the side of the couch, Minho just sits in that position for a good twenty minutes, marinating in the pitiful mixture of his sweat and tears.

The night before, he’d attempted to drown away his sorrows at some bar he stumbled upon while aimlessly wandering the city streets. It hadn’t worked, obviously, because his wallet wasn’t bottomless, and the pain was too great. But in true character, Minho had tried anyway, until his savior found him slumped over the counter and led him back to a safe place to sober up.

“Stay here as long as you need to,” Chan had said, tucking Minho’s drowsy form into a bundle of blankets on the couch, like he was a little kid.

Minho had tried to resist, mumbling complaints towards his friend’s retreating back, but fell into a troubled slumber before Chan even reached his own bedroom. Now he’s wide awake and unwilling to be so, praying he can just fall back asleep and forget about everything that had transpired in the previous twenty-four hours. But even sleep can’t save him from the memories of what you both once were: happy.

It’s not like he didn’t notice the rift growing between you two in the past few weeks. You didn’t have as much time for each other anymore, reducing your interactions to quick dinners and text messages. But you both have been together for nearly three years, and Minho had assumed that it was just the stress of senior year taking a toll on you both, nothing more. You both had been browsing apartments together just one month ago, finally planning to take the next big step in your relationship. He loves you more than anything in the world, and he so believed that you felt the same about him.

So when you sat him down yesterday at your favorite café, Morningstar Coffee House, and told him that you had doubts about your future together, he was shocked. Too fearful of what you were going to say next, Minho decided to take an abrupt exit out of the conversation, rushing out of the door by using class as an excuse. And now, he will be forced to confront a brutal reality, wishing he could have just gotten this over with yesterday.

A small chime alerts Minho to a new text message, and before he even reaches over to the coffee table to pick up his phone, he knows it’s you.

bobaluvrr: we need to finish talking catservant98: do we really need to? bobaluvrr: morningstar at 8. i have class, pls don’t be late.

With an exasperated groan, Minho stands up, tossing his phone onto the couch. At the very least, he could use the coffee.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little extreme?” Soyeon scrapes the bottom of the pint of ice cream in her hands, frowning when her spoon doesn’t recover as much as she’d like.

“Maybe,” Sunoo answers for you from where he’s sprawled out on the floor, lying on his stomach while scrolling through his cellphone. Soyeon chucks a pillow at him, making him yelp and lift his hands up in defeat.

“This is for the best, Soyeon,” you reply firmly, stabbing your spoon into your own pint of rocky road and digging out a generous chunk. As you lick the spoon, you note that you barely notice the creamy goodness that always succeeds in cheering you up. Not today.

Sunoo sits up and sets his phone aside. “Literally last month, you said you wanted to marry Minho as soon as you graduated.”

You swallow harshly, remembering the exact moment Sunoo is referencing. It’s true that you wanted to marry your boyfriend— no, you still want to marry him, even now. But you meant what you said; breaking up with Minho is necessary to prevent any more heartache. You’ve been feeling this indescribable longing seeping into your heart for weeks now, silently pressing through all of your warning bells. It was a whisper in the wind beneath your lofty wings, telling you that one day, Minho was going to leave you. The last few days had been the final straw, forcing you to grasp your courage and do what had to be done.

“I know.” You hold your tears back. “But the situation has obviously changed.”

Soyeon takes your hand in her own, softly rubbing your palm with her thumb to comfort you, while Sunoo just rolls his eyes. “I still blame that bitch Minju. It’s her fault you’re feeling like this, if anyone’s.”

At the mention of Minju, your expression hardens. After all, you don’t exactly have warm regards for a backstabber like her, especially when she had pretended to be your friend just to get close to Minho. When you found out about her ulterior motive, it made the betrayal hurt ten times worse.

You had befriended Minju nearing the end of the previous year, after she sat next to you at lunch when you were alone in the dining hall. All along your short-lived friendship, you had noticed that she would only ask you questions about Minho or your relationship with him, but you brushed it off as an attempt to just get along with your boyfriend. You had no idea that she wanted to do more than that.

At the beginning of the next semester, Minho mentioned that he had one class with Minju. Ever the optimist, you were pleasantly surprised, thinking that Minju could become friends with Minho as well. After all, it always took Minho forever to really bond with new people, and this would make everything easier. But the little things you kept overlooking built upon each other, forming a whole dam of distrust.

First, there were all of the times you hung out with both Minju and Minho. While Minho always engaged in conversation with the both of you, if not more with you, Minju would actively ignore you just to talk to Minho. Once, you three visited an arcade together, and there was a game that involved picking teams. Minju immediately declared that she would partner up with Minho, so you had no option but to team with a stranger. But maybe she just wanted to get to know him.

And then you ran into Heeseung, one of Minju’s old classmates. Heeseung had no malicious intentions; he used to have photography class with Minju before she switched out, and needed Minju’s number to ask her for the pen he had lent her. It looked like Minju had changed her course schedule to share a class with Minho. But maybe that was just a coincidence.

The final piece that made you put together Minju’s puzzle was when Minho was dropping you after a date one night. He had kissed you goodbye, and you went inside, wondering if you should invite Minju over to watch some movies. You called Minju and asked her if she wanted to come over, but she claimed that she was very sick and couldn’t even leave her house, down with a high fever in her bed. Feeling sorry for your friend, you decided to whip up a quick batch of soup for Minju and walk over to her loft. However, you saw two people standing right outside the building. Upon closer look, you realized it was Minju and Minho, talking about something you couldn’t hear. But the sight itself was enough— Minju looked perfectly healthy and fresh. You could give the benefit of doubt to your boyfriend, but Minju had obviously lied to you. You ran away before either of them spotted you.

You shake your head, knowing in your heart that even someone like Minju couldn’t really end one of the most important relationships in your life. “It’s not just her. I’m tired of watching every other couple on campus, wishing Minho and I were like that. Everyone calls us perfect, but really, we’re not. I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one who cares. I’m just tired of everything, Sunoo.”

And it’s true. You’ve had enough of wondering about whether you love him too much, if you were being naive about everything. You have always been a very bubbly, social person, wearing your heart on your sleeve. You know that Minho is more of an introvert, and that it’s hard for him to express himself to others. However, you believed that with time, he would open up, at least to you. You found it as easy to confide your fears within Minho as it was to laugh when he tickled you. But communicating with Minho about his own feelings remained a difficulty. He still seems like such a mystery to you, and even if he wasn’t entertaining Minju’s whole plot, you feel like he isn’t as interested in you as you are in him. You hadn’t even bothered telling Minho the truth about Minju, because in the end, you doubt Minju would have troubled you so much if your relationship really was so unbreakable.

Sunoo’s face softens, as he gets up to envelope you in one of his hugs. “I’m sorry if I came off too strong. I just want the best for you.”

Soyeon joins your little huddle, wrapping her arms around the both of you. “You are our best friend, after all. We can’t have our favorite girl being sad.”

A tiny flicker of hope ignites in your stomach. Whatever happens, you know you’ll have Soyeon and Sunoo by your side. You tell yourself over and over again that you don’t need anyone else but them, until you start to believe it.

It hurts Minho’s heart to see that you look more beautiful than ever as you step into Morningstar, even with your downturned lips and the reddened sheen of your sleepless eyes. He busies himself with the menu as you approach the table he’s sitting at, as if he wasn’t just watching you a moment earlier.

“Thank you for seeing me.” Your words feel oddly formal, especially taking into account your usual greeting for Minho was an excited hug and an avalanche of kisses.

Minho shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant and not as scared as he really is. “Yeah, of course.”

You scoot your chair closer to the table, clearing your throat. “Did you sleep okay last night?”

Unable to help himself, Minho rolls his eyes. “How do you think I slept, Y/N?”

You immediately flush, realizing how obvious the answer must be. “I was just—”

“Checking on me,” Minho interrupts you, sounding more wounded than angry. “Right after you tell me that you think maybe we shouldn’t move-in together and that you aren’t feeling the same about us.”

You reach across the table to take Minho’s hands in yours. He can’t bring himself to wrench them free from your hold. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

“You did.”

“That wasn’t my intention. I just…” You trail off, gazing out the window. The campus is alive with the buzz of students waking up and going on about their days. It’s a gorgeous day for October, with bright sunshine and a cloudless sky— Minho hates it.

He looks away, not wanting to showcase how truly vulnerable he feels right now. “Why? Why this all of a sudden? Did I do something wrong?”

You start. “No!”

“Are you still upset about yesterday? I know everything is stressful right now, but I promise—”

You take a deep breath. “I can no longer trust you. I don't know if I’ll always be the only one. But it’s not you, it’s me.”

“Of course you’re my only one, what are you talking about?” Minho shakes his head, the desperation creeping in. “No. I promise I’ll try. I’ll be better. Whatever it is, we’ll get through this together.”

You slam your palms down on the table, making it shake. It shocks both you and Minho into a moment of charged silence. “We’ll only grow to hate each other at this rate. I need to end things with you now.”

“Y/N, please. I- I don’t want to break-up.”

You flash Minho a broken smile. “I don’t want it either. But I need to do this, for both our sakes.”

You stand up from your chair, and Minho finally breaks. Minho, who didn’t cry even when he fell into a ravine while hiking and broke his arm. Minho, who didn’t cry even when he was cut from the line-up for his dream internship in New York City. Minho, who never cries, sits in front of you now, the tears streaming down his cheeks and dripping onto his sweatshirt.

“Don’t go, please.” He makes one last attempt at getting you to stay, grabbing onto the arm of your jacket.

You gently shake him free, taking your purse. You’re crying now too. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Min.”

Minho lets his arm fall limply to his side as he hopelessly watches you leave as quickly as you came. He always hated saying goodbye after every time you went out, but the thought of being able to see you the next day helped a little bit. Now, there wasn’t even that.

“One… two… three.”

Minho grunts in effort, sweat slowly dripping down his neck at the arduous pace of each repetition.

“Keep going, Minho. You’re almost there,” Changbin says, leaning over Minho and supporting him on the bench press.

Minho barely hears him, flexing his biceps up and down, exhausted, yet determined to finish a set. He’s done nothing at all for the past few days, strangled with the inevitable grief of being broken up with. Minho sullenly welcomed trudging back and forth to classes. He went to bed early and slept in for as long as possible, and barely ate anything during the meals Chan forced him to have.

However, Chan finally became fed up with Minho’s mopiness, employing Changbin to drag him out to the gym and make him work out his feelings. And so, as he struggles under the backbreaking weight of the barbell, he yearns to feel a sense of accomplishment about something— anything.

“Ten! You’re done.” Changbin gently places a hand on Minho’s arm, willing him to stop, but Minho keeps going without toning down his pace.

Minho feels the excruciating ache burning in his muscles, the slow agony of pain rippling through him. Is this how you feel? Is this how much it hurts to love him? If so, he wants to live it over and over again, atoning for the reason you left him. He blames himself for letting you go, of course, but mostly for making you feel like you had to leave in the first place. He should have been a better man for you.

“Minho, stop!” Changbin lifts up the weight in his own hands, racking it and staring down accusingly at his charge. “Are you crazy? You could have hurt yourself.”

“You lift more than that, and you’re fine. Give me that.” Minho reaches for the barbell once more, but Changbin places it on an even higher hook, forcing Minho to get off the bench.

“I’ve been doing this for years. You started after your girlfriend dumped you, four days ago.”

Minho rolls his eyes, picking up his towel and dabbing at his dampened skin. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“You were already thinking about her anyway.” Changbin pats Minho’s shoulder, grabbing his bottle of green juice and walking over to the rowing machine to start his own workout.

Without further protest, Minho retreats to the locker rooms, wondering if he’s being that obvious. Minho gazes into the clouded mirror, inspecting himself for any signs of sadness, but all he receives is an eyeful of his general look, a guarded expression that reserves smiles only for those who deserve it. Weird. Maybe Changbin is just telepathic.

Minho shoves his belongings into his gym bag and heads out of the gym, back to nowhere else but Chan’s apartment, his temporary home until he finds a better place to stay. After all, he thought you both would be moving in together, but plans change.

As Minho makes his way down the sidewalk that leads to the university off-campus housing complex, someone throws a soccer ball into his path. Great.

“Hey, can you pass that over here?”

Clenching his jaw in annoyance, Minho kicks at the ball as hard as he can, not caring about where it lands. He ignores the person’s confused shouts and keeps walking until he reaches his destination, not acknowledging any of the strangers he passed by. What does it matter, anyway?

“Gym go well?” Chan looks up from the cutting board, setting down his knife and wiping his hands on a dishrag.

Minho sighs, neatly fixing his bag next to his current post, the sofa. “It was fine. I’ll go clean up and be right back.”

“Hurry! Dinner’s almost ready,” Chan calls as Minho heads inside the bathroom, locking the door and cranking on the shower.

Minho feels his body relax as he steps under the steady stream of water, but his mind remains tense. He’d gone to the gym with Changbin today because he thought he’d be able to get some peace of mind and forget about everything, but evidently, that hadn’t worked. All he can think about is you, you, you. He’ll deny it to his friends for as long as he can, but he isn’t sure how long he can keep lying to himself.

As he finishes, Minho steps out of the steamy bathroom and into the bedroom, drying off and quickly changing into his clothes. He walks into the dining area, where Chan has set up two bowls and is ladling pasta into each of them. When he was younger, Minho’s mother used to tell them that a good meal could ease a troubled heart. For her sake and Chan’s, he decides to eat well today, just for living.

Enveloped in a comfortable silence, Minho and Chan dig in, enjoying the spicy, cheesy penne that serves as an instant comfort food.

“Thanks, Chan,” Minho says, looking up from his bowl.

Chan swallows his bite and pauses, placing down his fork. “For what?”

Minho shrugs awkwardly, trying to find the right words. By now, he knows he’s no good at speaking his heart. “For being there for me. For feeding me. Everything, I guess.”

“And for making Changbin haul your ass to the gym.” Chan grins at Minho, nothing but warmth in his kind eyes. “What are friends for, brother?”

Even though he feels kind of crappy, Minho smiles. “Yeah, man.”

Chan reaches over and smacks Minho’s back, laughing the sentiment off. But deep inside, Minho knows that Chan understands him. Whatever happens, his brother will be by his side. He tells that to himself over and over again, through dinner and the TV show that Chan turns on, until he starts to believe it.

The next morning, Minho wakes up after finally getting a good night’s sleep. The much needed rest spurs him on to message you, something he’s been putting off for a while now.

catservant98: did you wake up? catservant98: how are you doing? catservant98: ??

You don’t reply to any of his texts. Minho knows that you’re not much of a morning person, but you would never miss class, so you have to be up. Every Thursday and Friday, both of you have Writing Seminar together, a course that is mandatory for every senior student at the university you both attend. When he first received his schedule, he had been elated that he shared a class with his girlfriend. Well now you are his ex-girlfriend, and he doesn’t know that being in the same room and unable to speak with you is a great option.

Nevertheless, Minho tucks his phone into his pocket, opening the door to the lecture hall. The moment he enters, his eyes find yours. You’re sitting in your favorite spot in the middle of the fifth row, but the seat next to you that Minho usually takes is already occupied by some other girl who’s busy reading a book. You didn’t bother saving him a seat, for the very first time.

You tear your eyes away from Minho’s piercing gaze, looking at the grassy lawn beyond the window behind you, leaving Minho to find a new seat. He sets his backpack down in the very back row, where no one else is, and sits alone, a sad new reality setting in. Thankfully, the professor enters and starts talking about some upcoming project, leaving Minho ample leeway to observe you.

Your head is tilted down and you're focused on the open notebook in front of you. Although he can’t see your hand properly, he knows it’s moving as you sketch a little doodle onto the paper. It’s a habit that he always found enormously endearing, and as you tuck your hair behind your ear, Minho feels another pang in his chest. He will never be able to brush back your hair for you, ever again.

The moment class is over, Minho quits pretending he’s actually paying attention and hurries over to you before you can leave. You’re midway through stuffing your books bag in your bag when you notice Minho hovering over you. With a resigned sigh, you look up at him expectantly.

“I- I just wanted to check on you,” Minho says quietly, looking down at his hands like he’s a kid again, guilty of stealing a candy instead of impinging on your time. “And see how you’re doing.”

“I’ve been better.” You look away and stand up, gesturing towards the door. “I should go. Soyeon’s probably waiting.”

“Okay then.” Minho steps aside, letting you pass. You both had a lot of mutual friends; surely every interaction between you both will not be this awkward, right?

Before you leave, however, you turn and look at him. “Let’s try to be civil and move on, okay? We’ll still be seeing each other a lot, so.”

Minho just stares at you, for a moment, before remembering himself. “Yeah, okay. Let’s try.”

You curtly nod and walk out the door. Minho isn’t so sure that moving on is what he wants. Of course he wants to get along with you, because having you in his life and not being romantically involved is better than not being involved with you at all. But he wishes the world— time, you, and even himself— would understand that moving on meant this loss in his life. Shaking his head, Minho heads out of the classroom and towards a hopefully better day.

“Are you sure this isn’t a bad idea?” You worriedly scan the increasing mass of partygoers. Usually, you love a good party; spending time with friends and making new ones is one of your favorite things to do. Tonight, however, you can’t help the bad feeling building inside of you.

Sunoo loops your arm through yours, leading the way for you through the swanky flat, searching for a place to sit. “No, it isn’t. You deserve to have some fun.”

“What if I see Minho?” You ask him, but you already know the answer. Of course Minho is coming to Jihyo’s birthday party; unfortunately, both of you were in the same large friend group, an aspect of your relationship that you used to cherish. Now, not so much.

He looks over at you, a challenge in his eyes. “And so what if you do? You told him you wanted to be civil. So be civil.”

“Right.”

You both find a place by the food tables, where boxes of pizza have already been opened to entice guests and bottles of beer chill in the cooler. After congratulating Jihyo and helping yourself to a few slices, you sit down on the couch next to Sunoo, trying to enjoy your dinner. After boba, pizza is your most favorite food on the whole planet, but even that can’t seem to soothe your nerves. You wish Soyeon were here too, but she’s stuck studying for an exam.

Noticing your restlessness, Sunoo whistles to a few people mingling nearby. “Hey, who wants to play Truth or Dare!”

Although outdated, Truth or Dare is a certified party hit for stressed college students like you all, especially if there’s alcohol involved. You’re just thankful for the distraction. Everyone quickly huddles around, buzzing in anticipation of either a comedy show or secrets being revealed.

“I’ll go first.” Chan says, stepping forward. If he’s here, so must be Minho. “Truth.”

Sunoo rubs his hands together in thought before piping up. “What’s your beef with your Student Council co-president?”

Chan immediately tenses, his cheeks turning red. “Shit. I’ll drink on that.”

Everyone whoops with laughter and cheers as Chan downs his beer, setting the cup down with a sour expression on his face due to the bitterness of the drink. He must really hate his co-president. The game continues, before you’re the only person playing who hasn’t gone yet. Unfortunately, your questioner is Mark Lee, a junior that’s notorious for his nosiness. You brace yourself for whatever invasive question he’ll come up with, but you aren’t as quite prepared as you think.

“Why did you and Y/N break up?”

“Huh?” You follow Mark’s gaze to see him looking at Minho, who joined the game without you realizing. The question was meant for him, not you.

Minho says nothing, giving Mark the opportunity to keep talking. “I mean, weren’t you guys the golden couple of campus or something?”

Everyone quiets down, zeroing in on you and Minho for all of the wrong reasons. Minho’s eyes dart over to where you sit, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. You feel your skin prickle and your body heat up, the stress clouding your senses once more.

“This is stupid. Game’s over,” Minho declares while getting up, and everyone disperses, not willing to argue with him.

You stare down at your lap as Sunoo places an arm over your shoulders, pulling you close to him. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I had no idea Mark would ask that. What an asshole.”

“I’m fine.” You stand up, brushing off your skirt. “I’m going to go get a drink.”

“I’ll come with you,” Sunoo offers.

You shake your head. “No, it’s okay. I’ll come back.”

After getting some water, you wind through the impromptu dance floor that has now taken over the living space, everyone jamming to the raging music that thumps through the loud bass speakers that Jihyo had installed into her flat. You dodge a couple grinding up against each other and a pair of best friends swinging to the beat. Before you head back to Sunoo, you’re about to find temporary reprieve out on the balcony, but like a cruel universal joke, you see exactly what you fear most.

Minho leans against the railing, the evening breeze ruffling the chestnut hair that frames his handsome face. And next to him stands Minju, twirling her hair around her fingers while listening to what Minho is murmuring to her. Yours and Minju’s eyes meet, and she gives you the faintest hint of a satisfied smirk. Your heart drops and your feet want to give out right then and there, but you would rather die than fall apart in front of both of them. You turn on your heel and blindly march to wherever will rid you of the sight of the person you love the most speaking to the person you hate the most.

That destination turns out to be the kitchen, as you march in and huff out loud as your body hits the kitchen island. There’s no one else there except for one other person with his upper body hidden by the refrigerator, obviously raiding it. At the sound of someone else entering, he shuts the fridge door and looks over at you. Taking in his faded pink hair and beat-up converse sneakers, you vaguely recognize him from somewhere.

“I was just looking for some carrot juice, that’s all.” The guy shoots you a sheepish smile. “I don’t do booze past 9 p.m.”

“Carrot juice? Don’t tell me you’re a fitness freak.”

He raises his hands in faux surrender. “Guilty. But outside of the gym, I’m Kang Taehyun. Or Terry, if we’re acquainted, and hopefully you and I will be by the end of the night. So call me Terry.”

You’re intrigued by this carrot-loving stranger. “I’m—”

“Y/N, I know. We have Writing Seminar together.” Terry smiles as the recognition hits you.

You slap your palm against your forehead, wondering how you could have missed him. “I’m so sorry. I guess I was always too distracted in that class.”

He waves your apology off with a twist of his wrist. “No worries. Besides, you’re a lot more memorable than me.”

You feel your cheeks heat up. “Thank you.”

In the brief silence that follows, you gaze up at the pattern of the tiling on the countertops, toying with the hem of your skirt. Once again, your thoughts flit over to Minho, wondering if he’s still talking to Minju. Terry notices you spacing out and speaks up. “Hey, are you okay?”

You look up at him like a deer caught in headlights. Suddenly, everything feels like too much, and you’re overwhelmed with your own emotions. You feel yourself tear up, and you’re immediately mortified for breaking down in front of someone you just met.

Unfazed, Terry crosses over to you in three quick strides and gently touches your arm, concerned. “Hey, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

You swipe at your eyes, trying to collect yourself. “No, it’s not you. I broke up with my boyfriend recently. And it’s been… bad. God, this is embarrassing.”

Terry dips his head in understanding. “I noticed you weren’t sitting next to him as usual in class earlier today. Minho— that's him, right?”

You let out a mirthless chuckle. “Yeah.”

“Well…” Terry trails off, and you fear you’ve ruined the mood with your depressive recollection, but he smiles at you. “I’ll tell you something embarrassing about me. I have a fear of mint chocolate chip ice cream.”

A giggle escapes your mouth at the absurdity of his confession. “What?”

Terry nods solemnly. “Yes. Technically, I have a fear of visiting the dentist, but mint choco is close enough to the taste of toothpaste to give me the chills.”

You grin at Terry, the down atmosphere slowly fading away. “What do you like, then?”

“Water slides. Pleasure reading. And caramel popcorn with extra caramel.” Terry flexes his bicep. “Even a fitness freak needs his sugar fix.”

You roll your eyes in good humor. “You’re really something, aren’t you, Kang Taehyun?”

“I’m hoping that’s a compliment.” Terry runs his hand through his bubblegum hair, carelessly mussing it up. You find the messiness of his bangs absolutely adorable.

“It is.” You tap your nails against your cup, trying to think of something to say next. Generally, you have no difficulty in keeping a conversation going, but Terry seems to be content with that role in this one.

“Are you an Apple or Android kind of person?” Terry inquires.

You take a sip of your water, raising your eyebrow at him. “Where did that come from?”

“I was trying to think of a good way to ask you for your number.” Terry shrugs, that playful smile that you’ve now become familiar with coming back.

You return it. “You just did.”

Both of you exchange cell phones and type in each other’s contact information. When finished, Terry slides your phone back into your palm, and you don’t miss the light touch of his fingers against your own.

“I have to go find my friend now, Terry. But I’m glad I met you. Don’t forget to spam me with more weird facts about yourself.”

Terry laughs. “I won’t. Like I said, Y/N, you’re not easily forgettable.”

You hide your smile and leave the kitchen, lost in your own world, even as you run straight into Sunoo, who asks you what took you so long. When you finally get back to the warmth of your own room after the party, you sit down to get some homework done before bed. You notice your favorite keychain, a little cat charm, hanging off your ID card lanyard that’s strewn across your desk. Minho gifted it to you last year, stating that you needed something to remind you of him when he wasn’t there. After a moment’s hesitation, you unclip the charm from the lanyard and tuck it away inside your desk. You don’t need the reminder right now.

terrypotter: hey, good morning!! this is terry from yday btw bobaluvrr: hii! bobaluvrr: omg ur user <3 i love harry potter too! terrypotter: this friendship was meant to be.

You throw off your covers, hopping out of bed. Last night was proof that things could start out horrible and end well. You meant what you said to Terry; you’re happy you were able to meet someone like him. Even though you both only hung out for a few minutes, talking to him felt relaxing and uncomplicated, less of a puzzle and more like a game, unlike how it felt with Minho. You were tired of always guessing Minho’s thoughts, and so Terry’s habit of speaking his mind feels incredibly refreshing.

terrypotter: here’s a thought- coffee @ morningstar? terrypotter: they make a mean breakfast bagel too, if ur up for it

You frown down at your phone, the lighthearted feeling fading into uncertainty. You are glad that Terry named this new acquaintance as a friendship, but still, he’s a boy— and a good looking one at that, too. You aren’t sure if getting coffee entails something potentially romantic down the lane, and if it does, it feels wrong, especially so soon after Minho. You definitely haven’t moved on, yet. After all, you once believed that Minho would be the man you would marry one day, and a tiny part of you still dreams of what could be.

bobaluvrr: i can’t :( promised my roommates breakfast terrypotter: aw that’s too bad

After a moment of thought, however, you text him again.

bobaluvrr: but i’ll save you a seat in class today! terrypotter: see u then :)

Strangely buzzed, you make your bed and get ready for the day, trying not to think of the fact that Minho is also in Writing Seminar with you and Terry. You don’t want him to give him the wrong idea, but then again, you both weren’t together anymore, so what does it matter?

After showering and getting dressed, you stand in the kitchen so that the excuse you gave Terry won’t be a lie, scrambling a few eggs in the frying pan that Minho bought you last year. As the designated chef in your relationship, Minho used to cook for you all the time, whenever you came over to the apartment he shared with Chan and Jisung. Whenever he visited you, however, he complained that there weren’t enough proper cooking supplies for him to create a “proper culinary experience” for you, so he insisted on buying you some.

When you nearly fainted, looking at the receipts for everything he bought you, he promised that you could make it up to him by bringing everything with you when you moved in with him. That’s how he very smoothly asked you to move in with him, and you accepted by attacking him with kisses. You both planned to find an apartment as soon as possible, since Jisung wanted to move-in with his best friend, and Chan was looking for his own place. The reminiscing smile on your face fades away when you remember that everyone’s plans came to fruition except for yours and Minho’s.

You don’t know if it’s the universe looping Minho into your life again and again, or if your treacherous heart just misses him so much that you can’t help but subconsciously cling to every last remnant you have of him. The sensible side of you knows it’s the latter scenario.

“I smell food.” Sunoo ambles out of his room, looking like a lovable yet scruffy teddy bear.

He tries to sneak a piece of fried egg from the pan, but you quickly push his hands away, wrinkling your nose. “Go brush your teeth first. I’m going to throw up.”

Sunoo rolls his eyes sleepily, but obeys, before Soyeon also comes out of her bedroom. Unlike Sunoo, however, she’s all dressed and ready for business, clad in her uniform of baggy jeans and a badass leather jacket that you adore. Soyeon pulls out three glasses and starts juicing a couple oranges to complete your meal, as you start plating the food.

“Thank you, my angel,” Soyeon blows you a kiss as you set the eggs and some slices of buttered toast on the table. You wink back at her as you both take your seats and Sunoo comes out to join you, still wearing his pajamas.

“And you, lazy ass? Wake up earlier so you can help out more. You never do anything.” Soyeon smacks Sunoo’s arm, hard, eliciting a cry out of him.

“Hey! I take on the emotional support role in this house,” Sunoo replies, aggressively biting into his toast.

“This is an apartment.”

Your two roommates trade their usual insults back and forth as you tune them out, picking at your own plate. Maybe it had been a bad idea, asking Terry to sit next to you. And it wasn’t even about how you could already envision your ex-boyfriend’s beautiful eyes full of betrayal, but more of how you’re coming off to Terry. What if he got the wrong idea, that you both were heading into something more than a friendship?

When you’ve escaped Sunoo and Soyeon’s bickering, you plug in your earbuds and walk to the lecture hall. The sound of your morning mix fills your ears as you enter your own world. While you cherish the people in your life more than anything, you treasure the times when you can slow down and just appreciate the fact that you’re alive and healthy. Gratitude isn’t something you feel a lot, especially taking into account recent happenings, but maybe you’ll start now. A new friend is always something to be thankful for—

You hear someone calling out and immediately pull out your headphones to see Terry next to you.

“Hey, Y/N!” Terry falls into a synchronized step with you. “Did I interrupt any deep contemplation? The look on your face was pretty intense.”

You shake your head, accepting the coffee that Terry hands to you. “Thank you. And no, you didn’t. It’s nice to see you again, Terry.”

Terry smiles, sipping from his own cup. “Likewise. Ready for class?”

You’re about to naturally give him an affirmative answer, before you halt, remembering yet another moment with Minho.

“Who the hell is he?” Minho glowers threateningly at the guy next to you, pulling the sleeves of his button-down up to his elbows. The man quickly rushes out of the bar and into the rain, without even bothering to open the umbrella in his hands.

You sigh loudly while Minho sits down on the stool the man was just perched on. “Was that necessary, Min? Poor guy just wanted to ask me about the book I’m reading.”

“That’s the pretense that all guys put up when they’re trying to hit on a girl.” Minho slides his arm around your shoulders, and despite your mild annoyance, you melt into his touch. He smells like a mix of cologne, rain, and fresh cotton sheets.

You look up at Minho through your eyelashes. “Is that what you did when you asked me out?”

Minho smiles lovingly at you. “I didn’t have to. You were down bad for me already.”

You shove him away in mock offense. “You were the down bad one! I remember your whole cheesy speech.”

“I don’t recall anything like that.” The smirk on Minho’s face fades in favor of a deep blush.

Laughing, you press a kiss to your boyfriend’s lips, and he quickly reciprocates. The truth is, you both were impossibly down bad for each other. And to be even more honest, you enjoyed it when Minho got like this; the feeling of being Lee Minho’s girl will never not excite you, especially when he was the one keen on enforcing it.

You sigh to yourself. While that was a pleasant memory without the context, you aren’t so sure it’ll be cute this time, when Minho reacts to you and Terry.

Terry holds the door open to the lecture hall, letting you go in first before shutting the door behind him. Most of the class is already assembled there, setting up their desks before the professor starts. You see that Minho’s also sitting, perched in the back again, but he seems busy rifling through his bag, looking for something. As you take your own seat, you don’t know if you feel relief at Minho not saying anything, or disappointment that he didn’t notice you at all.

Throughout the duration of class, you and Terry giggle together over the professor’s infamous random rants, but your mind keeps flitting over to Minho. You can feel his gaze on you and Terry, but when you turn, you see him immersed in his notes like he wasn’t looking at you in the first place, and you end up feeling stupid. Fearful of what Minho— or really, you— might do, as soon as class ends, you grab Terry’s wrist and practically pull him out of the door, ready to get out of there. Terry doesn’t question it, understanding the rationale for your actions. You appreciate that about him.

To make it up to Terry, you take him out to lunch, choosing a restaurant downtown. You love the views of the riverfront there, as well as their renowned spicy food. You block out the memory of all of the times you and Minho walked over here, hand in hand. You are entitled to lunch at your favorite restaurant, you remind yourself. Once you’re seated, the waiter comes over to your table.

“Chef’s special soup, please. Level-three spice,” you tell the waiter.

The waiter writes down your orders and walks away, leaving Terry to look at you with an amused expression. “Level-three? The food here is already spicy.”

You cross your arms. “I have a very high spice tolerance.”

“Alright.”

In no time at all, your waiter is back, setting down the food in front of you both. Terry immediately digs in, shoveling liberal spoonfuls of his mild fried rice into his mouth, leaving you to stare at your soup. You can practically smell the red pepper in the steam rising out of the bowl.

“Here’s my last warning before destruction,” Terry says, squeezing a lemon onto his rice. “Try some rice.”

You sit up, trying to look self-assured. “Nonsense. I can do this.”

Of course, you wish you hadn’t bragged so much, barely a few seconds after your first sip of the spicy broth. Your eyes start to tear up involuntarily, and Terry fills a glass of water from the iced pitcher and hands it over to you. You accept it, clumsily tipping the cool water into your mouth, as Terry gives you a knowing smile.

“Aren’t you overdoing it?”

The spoon in your hands nearly falls onto the floor in your shock at Terry’s words. “What did you just say?”

Terry gives you an odd look. “Um, I said, ‘aren’t you overdoing it?’”

You take a deep breath, the tears now flowing down your cheeks. But you know that they’re not completely due to the soup. “Wow.”

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Terry hands you a napkin, worry written on his face. He signals for the waiter to refill the water pitcher.

You smile ruefully. “Yeah, I will be.”

“I can handle it, Minho.” You give him a glare, placing the napkin on your lap and scooting closer to the table. It’s your first date with Minho, and you want to impress him so bad.

Minho nudges your leg with his own, and you try not to look flustered. “It’s okay if you want to order something else.”

You stubbornly dig your spoon into the bowl, gathering a large helping of broth and noodles onto it. “You like the soup here. So I want to eat it too.”

He just laughs, watching intently as the clear signs of regret manifest on your face. “Told you so.”

"What are you talking about?” You narrow your eyes, unwilling to admit defeat, even though you really, really want to. You drink the soup in careful spoonfuls, pretending it’s too hot, but you struggle to speak even in between tiny sips. “This… is.. so… delicious.”

Minho is now hysterical, losing his mind laughing at the look on your face when you bite straight into a whole jalapeno. “Aren’t you overdoing it?”

“Minho, you’re so mean!” You can’t bear it any longer, the tears gushing down your cheeks while you also laugh in both pain and genuine happiness at being here with Minho, at making him laugh.

“Alright, alright.” Minho quickly goes and gets a large glass of chilled apple juice from the bar, handing it to you.

When you’re finally calmed down, you wipe your mouth with your napkin and set the spoon down, metaphorically waving a white flag. You skip straight to dessert, opting to soothe your taste buds with cold ice cream, all while watching Minho in awe as he easily finishes his own bowl of soup. After paying for dinner, Minho takes you to a secluded section of the rocky beach bordering the river that runs straight through the city. You both walk in a comfortable silence, still at that point where your hands slightly touch as you walk, unsure of just holding each other like you so want them to.

You look over at Minho, suddenly self-conscious. At this point, you see no point in faking anything; he’s seen you literally sob over a bowl of soup. “About the soup… I promise I’m not a braggy show-off. Honestly, I just wanted to impress you. Guess I did the opposite, though.”

“What are you talking about?” Minho shakes his head, all laughter from before gone. “I’ve never met someone who ate a bowl of soup here just because I like it. Not even Chan would try it, and he’s my best friend.”

You blush, illuminated by the combination of the moonlight and the glittering city surrounding. “Thank you.”

Minho stops walking, turning around to face you. “I know I told you this when I asked you to go out with me, but I suck at using my words, so I’m sorry.”

You copy his movement so you’re looking him directly in the eye. “I understand you, words or not.”

Minho looks down at the rocky ground, secretly fighting his own insecurities. “I’m trying, but I… I admit I’m not great at this.”

You try not to show how utterly charmed you are by his bashfulness. “To be honest, neither am I. You’re actually the first person I’ve ever gone out with. Nobody’s really been into me before.”

“Seriously?” Minho looks shocked.

You now wonder if divulging that information in him was wise. Definitely not. “Yeah.”

Minho kicks a pebble into the river, watching it sink into the water. “Idiots.”

You blink. “Sorry?”

He scoffs, looking back at you. “I don’t know what kind of idiots you were hanging around before. How could no one be into you?”

You shrug, embarrassed. Your heart feels heavy, thinking of the things people used to say to you, thinking they were being funny but not realizing how much mere words were hurting you. “I’m kind of undateable, I guess. People tend to gravitate towards Soyeon. They say I’m more of the comedic relief. I don’t blame them, though. She’s perfect.”

Minho gives you an unreadable expression. “You have no idea.”

“Of what?”

He crosses that miniscule space between you both, answering you in a different way than you expect. His lips are full and sweet, and he tastes like your coffee ice cream that he stole a few bites from. The surprise you harbor quickly melts away when you shut your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck as he circles his around your waist. If it took this long to find the right person, then so be it. And you don’t know if you can say that this— your first kiss ever— is like the movies; it feels even better.

“I may not be good with words, but I can say this: you are perfect.”

“You look kind of stupid,” Hyunjin says, cackling at Minho’s struggle to look over the top of the box in his hands while coordinating his movements.

Minho gives Hyunjin a sharp look in response. “And you look ready to go into the air fryer.”

Hyunjin immediately tosses his phone aside and scurries over to where Minho is, taking the box out of his hands and transporting it into Minho’s designated bedroom with ease, looking over his shoulder fearfully as he goes. Minho smiles to himself, satisfied.

He follows Hyunjin into the room, finding the latter boy dramatically smoothing out the bedsheets and straightening the pillows. Hyunjin side-eyes Minho’s entrance, earning him a smack on the backside and a great reason to get out of the room, leaving Minho in peace.

Minho quickly unpacks, neatly folding his clothes and stacking them in the closet, before organizing the rest of his belongings around the room. When he finishes, he falls back onto his new bed, staring up at the ceiling fan and observing it whir. Out of everything that’s happened, he knows he should be thankful; although Hyunjin is the designated comedian of their friend group— along with Jisung, of course— he values his privacy incredibly. So when Hyunjin offered to rent out a room in his apartment to Minho, he couldn’t believe his luck. Then again, he wishes he wasn’t in this position to begin with.

Earlier today, Chan insisted on going out to catch the football game that their university hosted. Minho had agreed, with nothing better to do— besides, he noticed that Chan was also having a rough start to his day, after being locked in the campus library all night with his co-president that he always conflicted with. Chan had stayed quiet for the entire time, staring out the window on the ride to the home game, but at least he had a happy ending. By the end of the game, things had changed for Chan, and for the better: he’d amended things with his co-president, and of everything that could have happened, they even emerged from the stadium as a couple. For Minho, however, things had been quite different.

Namely, there’s a new replacement for Minho. He saw you walk into class with Kang Taehyun yesterday, and he’d been so anxious to not let you see his reaction that he immediately busied himself with his backpack. The entire time, however, he was watching you both whisper to each other during class. He darkly observed Taehyun scribble something onto the corner of your notebook, and it had made you laugh. That was what Minho used to do all the time. By the end of class, Minho considered confronting you right then and there, without caring about anyone else, but you ran out of class with Taehyun before he could even move.

And to make things even worse, he saw you and Taehyun together at the game. Minho had to resist the urge to march down to your section and slap the flirtatious smile off of Taehyun’s face. But more than anything, he wanted to ask you if it was true. Did you really already start to move on with a new man? Is Minho really that replaceable to you?

“Hey, what are you up to?” Hyunjin cautiously sticks his head into the room, snapping Minho out of his reverie.

“Nothing much. What’s up?”

Hyunjin steps into the room, his silky shirt and pressed trousers a stark contrast to Minho’s soft blue t-shirt and gym shorts. “Wanna go to the convenience store with me? I ran out of snacks.”

“You and your snacks,” Minho teases, chasing after Hyunjin when he sticks his tongue in retaliation.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin successfully drags Minho into the convenience store, disappearing into the junk food aisles to get his fix and leaving Minho to wander around the store. Following the twisting row of frozen foodstuffs, Minho turns and crashes straight into you.

“Minho?” Your eyes widen.

Minho clears your throat, trying not to gaze at you like you’re a returned long-lost love. You are indeed lost to him, but he had class with you merely the day before. He needs to get a grip on himself. “You dropped this.”

He kneels down, picking up the tub of ice cream, and hands it to you after inspecting the flavor label. “Strawberry? You hate strawberry.”

You take it back hastily. “Yeah. You always loved it, though.”

That doesn’t satisfy Minho’s rampant irritation. “You wouldn’t even touch strawberry ice cream with a ten-foot pole before. What changed?”

“I just wanted to try something new,” you say, with what Minho observes as guilt.

Before Minho can respond, the person he wants to see the least rounds the corner and interrupts you both.

“I promise, the strawberry ice cream here is amazing and— oh.” Taehyun walks up to where you are, standing slightly between you and Minho, before he looks down at you, ignoring Minho. “Am I interrupting something? I can go away.”

You shake your head, flaring the rage in Minho. “It’s fine. You can stay.”

“So you’ll eat strawberry ice cream with him, but not me.” Minho rolls his eyes, the humiliation inside him swelling like a balloon.

“Hey man, it’s nothing like that. I know she doesn’t like strawberry ice cream that much, but I practically threatened her to try it. J'adore strawberries,” Taehyun says in a joking tone, but Minho doesn’t miss the protective glint in his eye.

Minho has never been a violent person, but he balls his fists. The nerve. “Who the fuck even are you? You don’t know anything about—”

“What is your problem, Minho?” You cut in angrily. “If you’re mad at me, then be mad at me. Don’t take your frustrations out on Terry.”

What you said is perfectly sensible, Minho knows that. He doesn’t have anything against Taehyun at all; he doesn’t even know the guy. But all logic is thrown out of the window when it comes to you.

“Terry?” Minho scoffs at the nickname. “You know what, I am mad at you. Because seriously? Kang Taehyun? He isn’t even your type.”

Before Taehyun can say anything else, you respond to Minho’s jab, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “Right, because you were so perfect for me.”

The words hit him like a sledgehammer, and Minho starts in surprise— you’ve never talked to him like that before, ever. And neither has he. The regret is evident on your face as you shake your head, frustrated, like that came out wrong.

“I got the snacks!” Hyunjin announces suddenly, waltzing into the aisle, before he notices you standing there with Taehyun. “What’s going on here?”

You and Taehyun stay quiet, adding onto Minho’s misery. He wants you to say something, anything. He doesn’t even want an apology; he knows he absolutely deserved that insult. Still, Minho can’t help that horrible feeling rising inside of him.

“Let’s just go.” Minho turns on his heel and walks out of the store, before waiting to finish the conversation, Hyunjin following closely behind. He doesn’t bother looking back.

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything to Minho, falling silent in the rapidly approaching night. At times like this, Minho prefers to be left alone. But he isn’t, really. Not with the truth leaning over his shoulder, like an angelic superego. He tries not to think of it, however, or the fact that his heart is falling apart so violently in his chest. Although you and Minho are not together anymore, you’ve both now fulfilled a milestone: hurt each other beyond repair.

The convenience store encounter with Minho left you feeling guiltier than ever, even more than when you actually broke up with him. You should have been more understanding towards Minho; after suddenly ending things, you appear out with Terry. Even though you don’t see Terry like that, you are well aware of how it can look to Minho. After all, you’d react similarly if you found out that Minho and Minju are dating. But you hadn’t, because you know that Minho would never do that to you.

You sigh, shutting the door to your room and collapsing onto your bed. After the whole incident, the air between you and Terry had been pretty awkward. While you still don’t know much about Terry, including his intentions, the topic of a romance had never been broached until Minho did it for you. He’d walked you back to your apartment, before wishing you a goodnight.

Your phone sounds with a text, and you pick it up, curling into your pillow. It’s Terry.

terrypotter: just checking up on you terrypotter: how are you doing? bobaluvrr: better, thanks for asking terrypotter: glad to hear terrypotter: and i also want to say that i’m sorry for any role i might have played in what happened today bobaluvrr: you’re good, terry. it wasn’t about you. i’m sorry for bringing you in

There is truth to this. No matter how much it feels like third parties have an avenue in furthering the split between you and Minho, the problem has always been internal. It’s truly between you both, hence, you’re not a couple anymore.

bobaluvrr: let’s change the subject? terrypotter: ofc terrypotter: wanna play would you rather?

You laugh in spite of yourself. It feels good to laugh, to distract yourself, but Minho stays like a stubborn mirage in your mind. Nevertheless—

bobaluvrr: game on. terrypotter: beaches or mountains? bobaluvrr: beaches terrypotter: sweet or salty? bobaluvrr: are u kidding? my username? boba?? terrypotter: LOL sweet then bobaluvrr: yes. terrypotter: spring or autumn? bobaluvrr: spring, duh terrypotter: and lastly, dogs or cats? bobaluvrr: DOGS terrypotter: u are 100% correct terrypotter: all of our answers are the exact same LMFAO

You think back to your first date with Minho. Before the whole soup fiasco, the atmosphere had been so awkward while waiting for the soup to arrive. This was months of tension and pining between you both, and now that the apex had arrived, neither of you were sure of what to say. Without thinking, Minho broke the silence by randomly asking you if you liked dogs or cats better. You were automatically enchanted by the bashful look on his face. From there on, for every single question he asked you, both of you had the exact opposite answers. For the longest time, your differences had felt charming, before they weren’t.

Terry, on the other hand, shares so many similarities with you, beyond the strawberry ice cream betrayal. Both of you are outgoing, have a similar sense of humor, and like to be unabashedly yourselves. If a romance did ever blossom between you and Terry, if your friendship lasts your current heartbreak, you could be happy with him, maybe. You would never be insecure, worrying about what’s going on in his mind, because he would talk to you directly. You appreciate that so much about him. But whenever you look into his eyes, or whenever your hand accidentally brushes his, you don’t feel that electricity that had always coursed through you when you were with Minho. You’ve been searching for it everywhere since, but that spark just isn’t there; Taehyun’s just not Minho. Your heart calls out to Minho, no matter how much you wish it wouldn’t, and you can’t deny it any longer.

If there’s one thing that Minho has learned in the duration of his college years, it’s that work has no tolerance for those special ailments of the heart. His professors don’t give a crap about the fact that his girlfriend dumped him, or that his girlfriend has now apparently moved on with some pink-haired stud. No matter how much he wants to slam his laptop screen down and fall asleep to the rhythm of his shattered heart, he knows he can’t. His term paper will not write itself, and it matters, especially since he’ll be graduating this year.

“What will you do when we graduate?” You set down your iPad, flexing your fingers.

“A job at a good company. And then one day, my own business.” That familiar, dreamy look mists Minho’s eyes.

You smile at him. “My handsome CEO.”

Minho tapped your nose with his finger, following it with a soft kiss there. “You are so cute.”

“I know.” You peek down at his notebook that’s full of graphs and lengthy strings of numbers. “This looks complicated.”

“Welcome to the life of a business and economics double major,” Minho laughs. “But you’re literally a pre-med student. I’m not going to complain when you have to memorize human anatomy and random proteins.”

“Don’t remind me.” You dramatically shudder, giggling at Minho. “But I don’t care, as long as one day, you’re CEO Lee, and I’m Dr. Lee.”

Your words shock both you and Minho, invoking a moment of charged silence. You both have never talked about getting married before. But before you can backtrack, a slow smile spreads across Minho’s face. “Dr. Lee… has a ring to it, don’t you think?”

You turn a bright red, but lean into Minho, kissing him sweetly on the lips. “Definitely.”

Minho clears his throat and shakes yet another memory of you away, trying to concentrate on the email open in front of him. Just minutes ago, he’d received notice that he’d been chosen for a position at Google, following graduation. Fucking Google. Every business major would kill for a job at Google. And not only that, but his employer noted in the message that they usually don’t even extend offers this early in the year, but made an exception for him because they wanted him so much.

For a moment, he forgot all about the angst of the previous day, giddily jumping off his bed in a rare display of emotion, even if nobody else was around. And then he reached for his phone, opening up your contact and preparing to type in a text to you; for months, you knew Minho was anxious about his application to Google. But then he remembers himself; he’s now someone in your past.

Minho swallows roughly, staring at the blank space where his response accepting the offer should be. A moment later, he decides he’ll respond to the email later. But he doesn’t even have any time to chide himself before he notices someone standing in front of him.

“Minju?”

She looks down at him, either oblivious to his confusion or choosing to ignore it. “Hey. Am I interrupting something?”

Minho nods, waiting for Minju to sit down and get settled into her chair, trying not to let his bewilderment show.

At Jihyo’s party, he had needed some air after that stupid game of Truth or Dare, and even worse, your reaction to the question asked of him. Minho had escaped to the balcony, hoping for a moment alone, when Minju approached him. When she launched into a conversation with him about school, Minho realized that you probably never told Minju about the break-up. So he excused himself as politely as he could, explaining that you and him both broke up. He never really considered Minju as his own friend, and did not expect Minju to pursue a relationship with him any further.

“I’ll get straight to the point, Minho.” Minju exhales, looking him directly in the eye. “I like you.”

Minho sits up immediately, shocked. “What did you just say?”

Minju purses her lips. “I like you, and I always have. Go out with me.”

Minho shakes his head in disbelief, the confusion fading into anger. “You’re Y/N’s friend. How could you do this to her? How can you even look at yourself?”

“You’re not together anymore, it doesn’t matter,” Minju says, her voice wavering.

He scoffs, packing up his belongings and shoving them carelessly into his bag. “Don’t talk to me again.”

Minju grabs the sleeve of Minho’s jacket as he turns to leave, desperation in her eyes. “Be with me instead. I’ll make you forget her.”

Minho shakes her free, giving her a look of both pity and disgust. “I still love her, and I always will.”

And with that, Minho leaves without looking back, walking slowly and deliberately in thought. Was this what you meant when you told him that you weren’t sure if you were the only one? Was Minju the reason for the love of his life leaving him? A strange mix of both fury and hope washes over Minho as he exits the library and breaks into a run, barely eight out of his eight-thousand word essay written.

After you broke up with Minho, you forgot one very crucial detail: you didn’t unlink him from your Google calendar. One of the few things you both share in common is your organization, and when you were together, you both loved to plan things together and very ceremoniously add them to your shared online calendar. It became a game, trying to guess where the other was at random times, judging by their schedule. More often than not, the calendar proved to be a very useful tool in pinpointing each other’s locations. It’s why the brief surprise of seeing Minho standing outside your apartment door in the middle of the day on a weekday fades away quickly. You don’t have any classes scheduled today.

“Y/N,” he pants, leaning against the doorframe.

“Minho. What are you doing here?” You cross your arms, resisting the urge to rush forward and hug him in all of his puffer coat glory. You used to make fun of him for that coat, all the time.

“I needed to see you. Minju told me,” Minho lowers his eyes, as if he’s nervous. “I need you to know that there was nothing going on with her. You have always been my only one. I promise. No one else. I miss you.”

Your heart wrenches in desire and nostalgia at the sincerity of his eyes. Of course you knew that he never cheated on you; this is Minho. But that’s not the reason why you have to remind yourself, once more, that you aren’t right for each other. Not in the long run. “I miss you too. And I know you didn’t cheat on me.”

Minho’s eyes fill with what you recognize as a mix of despair and tears, because after all, you’ve felt it in you too, before. “Then why? Why end it?”

“I feel like you don’t love me as much as I love you.”

The wheels turning inside of Minho’s mind and searching for possible reasons, immediately crash to a stop. “What?”

You shrug, drawing back your hands to tuck them into your lap, a habit that Minho has observed whenever you are nervous. “Remember when we were at that picnic with all of your friends? And Jisung and his girlfriend were also there? We were playing a question game.”

Minho nods slowly, still confused. “I do.”

“Felix had asked all the guys to think of why they love their girlfriends.” You look down at your hands, embarrassed. “Changbin had a whole list of reasons. But when it was your turn to speak, you had no answer.”

The recollection comes back to Minho like a tsunami. He hadn’t really ever thought much of that day; he always had trouble talking about personal things in front of other people, and he thought you already knew why he loved you. He didn’t know his inability to share something like that could hurt you so much, especially when he can write a whole book of reasons for why he loves you. Your smile. Your endless generosity. Your never ending patience for Minho’s antics. The way you always see the best in people, and how you light up the whole room when you walk in.

“Baby,” Minho starts, before realizing that he doesn’t have the right to call you that anymore. Reluctantly, he continues, using your name instead. “Y/N, I have trouble talking in front of other people. I love you so much, and if you know that, it’s all that really matters. A stupid game doesn’t change that.”

You laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “But see, Minho, I don’t know. I don’t know how you’re feeling half the time. Felix’s question was just the icing on the cake. I’m exhausted from wondering. Wondering if you love me. Wondering if I really know you. Just wondering all the time. I shouldn’t feel that way.”

I’ll try harder to be more open. I’ll work on myself. I just— please believe me.”

“I do believe that you’ll try, Min. It’s who you are. But I can’t force you to be someone you’re not, and you can’t force me to want different things. We’ll only end up hurting each other more.” Your eyes fill with tears. “It hurts to love you.”

Minho flinches at your words, and he sees the sorrow in your eyes, but you say nothing to soothe the burn. Nevertheless, he keeps trying, as if he didn’t notice the determination written in your gaze as well. “I know I was senseless. But please— I’m begging you. Don’t do this. Don’t leave, not again.”

You look away from him, a single tear sliding down your cheek, as Minho tries to hold back his own. The whole scene feels disturbingly like a few days ago, when you broke up with him in Morningstar. He had hoped it wouldn’t come to this.

“I tried to understand you. I did. But don’t you think that being senseless about everything that was going on also means that you were that indifferent towards me?” You scrub at your face to keep from crying even more.

Minho cringes, hearing the truth in your words. Once upon a time, he cherished the silence you both could share comfortably, working independently in the happy company of each other. Now the quiet hangs in the air like smog, a heavy uneasiness that he never imagined around you. “I really thought I could change. I swear.”

You nod, a brisk movement that doesn’t match the tears glistening on your face. “You should go now. Please.”

And you turn your head, as if you can’t bear to watch him any longer. Minho turns, his head hanging down like he’s a sinner. A small, ugly voice in Minho whispers that he truly is one, for hurting you and letting you go. It implores him to fall at your feet and stay, insisting, breaking at you until you crumble into his arms, taking him back. But the part of him that carries the resolve is stronger by a thread, the one that fuels his despondent retreat from your heart.

Later, holed away in the place he would now have to call his home, Minho is left alone in the bed that he’d once believed to belong to you as much as it did to him. The nights cuddled together and the mornings after, when you woke up to each other in a halo of sunlight, all fade away into the prickling solitude that now constitutes his new reality. There is nothing left for him to do now, except looking out at the sky through his tiny bedroom window, wondering if you were both gazing at the same moon in the separate worlds you both now are in. He’d left you one last message before promising himself that he’d never text you again, and thankfully, you never responded. He didn’t think you would.

catservant98: I’ll always love you.

“The festival will end by the time we get there.” Jeongin lets out an exaggerated sigh, making a show of checking the watch on his wrist.

“Shut up. I need to lock this place up properly or my parents will kill me,” Seungmin mutters grumpily, as he carefully turns the key in the lock to Morningstar, taking his time. “It’s not my fault that I’m the owner’s son.”

Jeongin, donned in a Harley Quinn outfit, bounces on his toes in uncontained anticipation. “Hurry up!”

Seungmin tugs at the lock for good measure, before turning and swatting at Jeongin, who yelps and jumps out of the way. His detective hat, which he wore as a part of his Sherlock Holmes costume, falls off, and Jeongin grabs it. Usually, Minho would have laughed at the way Seungmin has started to chase Jeongin around, but he just glumly stares down at his sneakers, having no energy to join in.

“You okay?” Chan notices Minho’s downcast gaze, slinging his arm around his shoulders. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

Minho shrugs with one shoulder, out of options. “I’m fine. I have nothing else to do anyway.”

Today is Halloween, your favorite holiday of the entire year. It seems especially cruel to him, to have to confront this day without you by his side. It was never much of his scene, and he’d always been reluctant to dress up, but one look from your pleading eyes and he’d fold, decking himself in a cheesy costume and feeding you all the candy you desired. The night would always end in you both binging horror movies together because you were too scared to watch alone. The memory of Minho getting distracted, just watching you hide behind your hands the entire time, used to bring a fond smile to his face. Today, it makes him want to smash something into bits.

“Let me know if you want to leave the festival early, though. Changbin can drive you home later.” Chan juts his chin out at Jeongin and Seungmin, who are now smacking at each other, while Changbin responsibly tries to pull them apart. “I have to make sure those two idiots don’t get in trouble.”

“Thanks. But you don’t have to worry about me.” Minho gives Chan a half-hearted smile. Chan looks hesitant, like he wants to keep talking with him, but he nods, focusing on the moonlit path in front of them.

The roar of the annual Halloween festival that the university throws resonates throughout campus, drawing stressed students ready to throw aside their homework and party. But Minho is in anything but a celebratory mood; the last few weeks have been absolute agony. Ever since things fell apart. He just wants to go home and curl up into a ball under his covers, ready for this stupid night to be over. He didn’t even bother with a costume, choosing to stuff himself into his hoodie and make himself seem as small as possible. But he’s too tired to tell anyone, so he opts to stay quiet and gloomy on his own.

The gravel of the walkway crunches under their little group’s shoes, barely heard over the deafening sound of “Thriller” blasting on the DJ’s stereo. The entire main lawn of campus has been converted into a party space, crammed with different tents full of attractions, games, and souvenirs for students to indulge themselves in. There’s even a converted frat house that’s now a haunted house, as well as tables of snacks and lightsticks for people to wave around. Jeongin, Seungmin, and Changbin immediately zero in on the haunted house, running off to get tickets for it, leaving Minho and Chan alone. Two boys swaying together at the edge of the dance floor catch Minho’s eyes. He looks closer and notices that they both are dressed in an obvious couples costume, and it makes him think of you again— last year, he was Chucky and you were Tiffany Valentine, and you both won “Best Look” together, at the festival’s costume contest. Minho feels sick to his stomach.

“Oh my god, she’s stunning.” Chan’s eyes are wide, and Minho follows his gaze to a very pretty girl dressed in a white gown that seemed to float above her knees, two trailing pieces of fabric sticking out daintily from the back of her dress. An angel.

She approaches him with a shy smile on her face, as she not-so-subtly checks out Chan’s own dracula costume. “You look good.”

“I— you’re pretty,” Chan stutters, and they both blush.

Seriously?

“Thanks, Chris.”

Chan smiles lovingly at her. “You don’t have to call me Chris, you know. My friends call me Chan.”

“Chan,” the girl tests with a beam, before quirking her brow at him. “So I’m just a friend now? Not your girlfriend?”

“You drive me crazy, you know that?”

And then they both start kissing right then and there, which doesn’t seem to faze anyone else around them, considering the fact that they are surrounded by other couples. Minho, however, has to look away, his stomach turning. Is this how everyone else felt when he used to kiss you, whenever and wherever he wanted?

“Hey guys, I’m going to go find a place to sit,” Minho calls out to Chan, who barely notices in the midst of his make-out session. “You know what? Never mind.”

Cringing to himself, Minho makes his way over to the food tables, dodging at least five witches, seven ghouls, and six zombies on his way. He collapses onto the bench of an empty table with a groan, letting his head rest on the table before lifting it up like he’s been stung; the thump of the DJ’s bass seems to vibrate through the wooden tabletop, worsening his already horrible headache. What was he thinking, coming here?

“You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

Minho looks up, ready to lash out at the intruder, before he notices it’s Hyunjin. He is so out of it that he hadn’t even recognized his voice. “I thought you were staying home and painting tonight?”

“Thought about it, but I kept getting distracted by all of the noise outside, and thought I’d take a snack break.” Hyunjin plops down on the seat across from him, setting a plate loaded with brownies, potato chips, and cookies cut into pumpkin shapes. He’s dressed in plaid pajama pants and a baggy sweatshirt to fight the October chill, the only one besides Minho who hasn’t dressed up. “Want some?”

Minho shakes his head, watching Hyunjin dig in. “Can I ask you a question?”

Hyunjin nods, his cheeks stuffed with food. “Sure.”

“Don’t you ever get lonely?” Minho fiddles with the strings of his hoodie, feeling his face heat up. He was never one for sentiments like this, but even though he and Hyunjin have more of a seemingly lighthearted relationship, they’re more alike than they think in how deeply they care about each other. “I mean, you’ve never even had a serious relationship before, but you’re like the most hopeless romantic I’ve ever met. How does that even work?”

Hyunjin looks surprised, at first, but quickly smooths it away in understanding. “I do get lonely sometimes. But I just occupy myself with the things I love. Painting, reading. Just because I’m a hopeless romantic doesn’t mean I can’t be realistic. And I have been in a serious relationship before, remember?”

Minho frowns. “Oh. Right. What happened?”

He notices Hyunjin’s eyes flicker with something— grief, maybe. But the emotion is quickly replaced with indifference. Hyunjin shrugs. “Let’s just say it didn’t work out. I love a good romance novel, but is it real life? No. I don’t do relationships. Not anymore.”

Minho stays quiet, unknowing of what to say. He never thought of himself as a huge relationship person either, but then again, that was before he met you. You changed his perspective on a lot of things, and most of the time, he thought it was for the better. Now, he feels empty, alone. He wants to match costumes with someone, and go bobbing for apples together. And he wants that someone to be you, only you.

Hyunjin must have noticed Minho’s melancholic contemplation, because he gives him a sympathetic look. “Is this about Y/N?”

Minho’s chest tightens at the mention of your name. “I don’t know, honestly. I just want to go home.”

“Same. I just came for the free food.” Hyunjin chews on a brownie, before swallowing. “Let’s go after I finish eating.”

Minho hums in response, pulling his hood over his head, as the rest of their group comes to join the table. Chan and his girlfriend, unsurprisingly, are discussing plans about some upcoming event for the Student Council. Jeongin and Seungmin, on the other hand, are immersed in a gleeful recollection about the haunted house with Changbin, who is dressed up as Woody from Toy Story. Everyone seems to have a role except him.

“That was actually wild,” Jeongin says. “If Jisung was with us, he would have fainted when he saw the chainsaw guy!”

Seungmin shudders, while Changbin glances around their table. “Hey, where is Jisung, anyway? And Felix?”

Chan breaks away from his own conversation as his girlfriend pauses to eat her slice of cake. “He’s handing out candy to kids at home. Meanwhile, Felix is Trick-or-Treating.”

Jeongin snickers. “Trick-or-Treating? What is he, ten?”

Seungmin grins evilly at Changbin. “At least he doesn’t have the height of a ten year old.”

Changbin rolls his eyes, but chooses to ignore Seungmin and Jeongin’s high-five at his expense, instead turning to Hyunjin. “Can I have a cookie? There are no more left.”

Hyunjin gives him a judgemental glare, but passes a cookie over anyway. “Where’s your girlfriend, by the way?”

Changbin stuffs half of the entire cookie into his mouth, licking the frosting on his lip. “She has work. But we’re going to meet up later tonight and watch movies. Wanna come?”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “I’m good. Minho and I are headed home soon anyway. Right, Minho?”

But Minho isn’t paying attention. His gaze is locked on none other than you and Taehyun, dressed in Hogwarts robes— you in Gryffindor, and Taehyun in Slytherin. He’s seen multiple people tonight sporting similar getups, and so both of you wearing Hogwarts robes doesn’t exactly entail a couples costume, but it makes his heart clench either way. Both of you are standing near the apple bobbing station, laughing and talking animatedly together. It hurts to see you enjoying yourself, while Minho has to struggle to keep himself together, to keep from breaking down on the spot. It hurts that he’s not the one matching with you right now, the one to be making you laugh, holding you on one of your favorite days of the year.

He watches as you and Taehyun walk closer to the haunted house. Your smile has now faded into an unsure expression, skeptical and tinged with fear. Taehyun puts his arm around your shoulders, evidently trying to assure you, before he leads you inside the house. Minho immediately springs up from the bench, fists balled up at his sides. You love everything about Halloween, except for one thing. You hate being in the dark, and so you had always avoided the haunted houses at every Halloween festival or any other event that you and Minho went to. Obviously, Taehyun doesn’t have a clue about your boundaries, and as always, you’re too kind to point them out.

Ignoring Hyunjin’s confused protests, Minho stalks after you and Taehyun, even though he knows that he should sit right back down. He told himself that he’d stay away from you if you didn’t want him, but if he even gets the slight sense that you are afraid, he’ll throw all reason out the window. He won’t let you go inside, not without him.

“Excuse me— you can’t go in right now. The haunted house is at full capacity.” The ticket collector stops Minho even though he shows her the ticket that Jeongin had passed out to everyone before. “Just wait for a few minutes for someone to come out.”

But he can’t. Not if you’re already inside. Minho steps back for a moment, and the collector glances back down at her phone. Before the collector can react, he rushes past her, running inside. She calls after him angrily, but he barely hears her. All he can register is the racing beat of his heart, and the faint screams deeper inside, wondering if one of them could be you.

He whips past the ax-wielding maniacs and the corpse brides in tattered dresses, pushing past their horrible acting and all of the other props in his way to you. Minho feels his hoodie snagged against a cloud of fake cobwebs, and the fake blood on the walls is enough to make him gag, but he goes on. A desperate search in nearly every nook and corner yields nothing, and Minho curses the haphazard quality of the setup, nearly tripping over a loose wire. As he passes through a room decorated like a murderous hospital room, he hears a small whimper from behind the fake operating table.

His senses perk up and there you are, sitting down with your knees drawn to your chest. With how his eyes have now adjusted to the dark, he can faintly make out your crouched body and the shine of your flowing tears. Immediately, he gets onto his knees, and envelopes you with his arms, firmly pulling you against his chest.

“Y/N, it’s me,” he murmurs, the scent of your coconut shampoo blocking out the stench of ammonia.

“Terry and I got chased by one of the ghosts and then got separated,” you mumble as you cry, shivering in his arms as he begins to rock you slowly. “I’m so scared, Minho.”

Minho looks at the tears still leaking down the sides of your face, and has to restrain himself from the instinct to kiss them away. Instead, he puts a steady hand to your skin, gently wiping them away. In this moment, you aren’t broken up. He isn’t your ex-boyfriend, and you aren’t his ex-girlfriend. You are the girl he loves, and him the very soul that has so vehemently devoted himself to even at such a ripe age, an inspiration and a shame to the vengeful spirits that govern your favorite holiday.

“I’m here now. I’m not going to leave you.” Minho gazes down at you. “Are you still frightened?”

You shake your head no, wide eyes clinging to his comforting presence. Minho gives you a small smile, rubbing your jaw softly with his thumb, a movement that doesn’t feel as inherently romantic as it generally would be. “See? You’re not afraid of the dark. You’re just scared of being alone in it. And that goes away when you realize something. You’re never really alone.”

Both of you just gaze at each other in the dark for a few minutes, saying both nothing and yet everything to each other. He carefully rests his palm against your heart, gaging the beat until it slows down to its usual calm. Wordlessly, he helps you onto your feet, his arms still wrapped around you as you both navigate the maze of the haunted house. You don’t encounter any other of the actors, but at one point, you jump in Minho’s hold, spooked by the amplified horror sound when passing by a speaker. Steadily, you both make your way out together.

The first thing Minho sees as he steps out of the exit is the array of blinding lights that shine on his face, in addition to the glow of the raging bonfire that has now been set up for students to roast marshmallows. Then he catches that shock of pink hair in the small crowd gathered outside of the haunted house; Taehyun, distress written all over his features as he speaks to the security guards.

You and Minho, however, stay frozen on the spot, just staring at each other with a fresh uncertainty. Realizing himself, Minho lets go of you. Contrary to how you felt, Minho could always read you like a book. He practically memorized all of your expressions, able to tell how you were feeling in an instant. But the indecipherable look you give him is baffling, but before you can open your mouth and say something, Taehyun notices your arrival.

“Y/N!” Taehyun immediately rushes over, his breathing labored from sprinting the distance to you. “I’m so, so sorry; I lost you and tried to come back inside to find you, but they wouldn’t let me!”

Minho steps to the side awkwardly as Taehyun hugs you tightly, squeezing his eyes shut. Your tears are long gone, and you pat his back softly, giving him the comfort of your safety. “I’m alright, Terry. It’s all good.”

Taehyun pulls back to look at you, before turning to Minho, surprise and confusion on his features as if just registering Minho’s presence. You clear your throat, placing a hand on Taehyun’s arm. “Hey, could you give us a minute?”

“Sure. Of course,” Terry says, the stress on his face softening as he looks down at you. Minho recognizes it— it’s how he always imagined himself to look whenever he saw you.

You turn back to Minho as Terry walks away to a food stand, presumably to get you a warm drink. “Minho, I—”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Minho interrupts, unable to bear any more. He chokes back a sob, his eyes trained on your pained expression. “I need to go.”

“Minho, wait!” You grab his arm, and it places you both in the uncomfortable déjà vu of when everything ended.

He looks back at you, swallowing his dread and pushing away the angsty alert of his brain, the command to let everything go and just take you back, then and there. But he wouldn’t be the man you had always loved, then. Not if he takes advantage of you when you’re like this, vulnerable and exhausted. Not when there’s a perfectly good man standing at a distance, hesitantly holding a cup of hot chocolate for you. Not when he knows that he’s lost his chance of ever getting you back from the moment he gave up on you both. Minho realizes that he doesn’t have the right to call you his anymore, when you’ve finally found a man who prioritizes you over his pride and his insecurities— a man who will treat you right, and will never make you wonder if you’re his only one. All he’s ever wanted is for you to be happy. That has to be enough for him. It will be.

Minho leans down before you can protest, kissing you on your forehead softly. You stay silent, looking up at him with those wide, inquisitive eyes, the very ones he fell in love with. “Stay smiling, always.”

And with that, Minho finally walks away, willing himself not to cry as he tries not to think of his heart breaking.

You watch Minho, dazed, as he walks away for the second and last time. It feels worse, somehow, than when he left your apartment, weeks ago. Minho had spoken to you so gently, inside the haunted house, calming you down in spite of the fact that you had so cruelly broken up with him, and then he proceeded to wish you his best, before leaving. You didn’t miss that note of finality in his voice, the one that told you that he wasn’t going to go back on his word. He had let you go.

You barely notice Terry approaching you, placing a warm hand on your shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

He hands you a cup of hot chocolate, as you stare at Minho’s retreating back before it finally disappears within the crowd of partygoers. “Everything’s fine. Thanks for this, Terry.”

Terry blinks at you, slightly unfocused. “Yeah of course. But… can I ask you something?”

You nod, sipping the hot chocolate. It’s so warm and sweet, and it feels wrong to be drinking it. It feels like you don’t deserve it.

He hesitates for a moment, before speaking up. “What happened in there? In the haunted house?”

You bite your lip, still distracted by the thought of Minho; Terry’s question doesn’t pull at you as much as it probably should. “He just found me and helped me back. That’s all.”

Terry looks like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t, and you don’t question it. The rest of the night is clouded by an awkward rut that has originated from nowhere at all, one that you never guessed you’d experience with Terry. He walks you back to your apartment early, and waits next to you as you fumble with your keys.

“Good night, Y/N,” he says softly, as you finally wrestle your door open.

“Thanks,” you whisper back, too drained of energy to make one of the usual jokes traded when you both say goodbye. He tips his head at you like he always does, albeit in a less jaunty way, and steps into the apartment elevator at the end of the hall, flashing you one last little wave before the doors close.

You turn back to your apartment, walking inside and locking the door behind you once again. This time, you don’t go straight to your bedroom and drop onto your bed, like you always do after a horrible day. Instead, you stalk over to the kitchen, which is illuminated by a single, flickering lightbulb. You tug open the freezer, fishing out a box from your emergency stash of ice cream, the one thing bound to be on stock at all times. When you went grocery shopping some time ago, you didn’t think that a crisis would hit so soon.

Cracking open the lid of the chocolate ice cream, you take your scooper and place a bowl on the counter. After a second thought, you take out your blender as well, and scrape the ice cream into there instead, throwing in some milk and peanut butter as well. Tonight is a milkshake kind of night, you think, the kind that necessitates butterscotch chips and whipped cream as well, you note, opening the cupboard to get said ingredients. When you finish blending, you pour your icy salvation into a large tumbler and collapse onto the living room couch. You turn on the television, blankly staring at the screen while barely registering the dialogue playing.

“That’s not a milkshake— that’s diabetes in a glass.”

“Don’t knock it ‘till you’ve tried it.” You shoot Minho a pointed look as you chug down your shake, savoring the sound of Minho’s laughter even more than a hefty peanut butter and chocolate combo.

It isn’t until you taste saltiness instead of the sweet milkshake that you realize you’re crying.

callmeterry: can we meet? bobaluvrr: yes. see u @ morningstar

You stare into the bathroom mirror, checking your face one last time, inspecting it for bloodshot eyes and dry skin, the telltale signs of the tears that have now become a habit over the past few days. Ever since Halloween, things haven’t been the same since you and Terry. Although a fairly new friendship, you both spent a significant amount of time together after meeting at Jihyo’s birthday party. However, you haven’t seen each other at all outside of Writing Seminar nowadays— probably because during class, you’re too busy staring at Minho, who won’t even spare you a single glance. You’re determined to at least save your friendship with Terry, which is why you are so quick to agree to meet him.

“Catch you two later,” you call out to Sunoo and Soyeon, who both are slumped on the couch, watching One Piece over boxes of takeout butter chicken.

The journey to Morningstar doesn’t take long, especially since the vastly approaching night has gotten you nearly jogging, regardless of how safe your college campus is. Although it’s been nearly a month and a half, you still can’t get used to not having the security and comfort of your boyfriend. Serves you right, you think.

You enter through the glass doorway of Morningstar, the door chime ringing and announcing your entrance to Terry. He stands up from the table he’s sitting at, walking over to you with the genuine smile that you were fearful of not being able to see again. Terry looks heartbreakingly handsome, dressed in a long brown coat and wool scarf, an ode to the plaid shirt days and hot chocolate nights that you know you could have with him.

“Hi,” he says, pausing his gait when he’s a few feet away from you. Tentative, but still Terry. The bouquet of assorted flowers in his hands, however, isn’t.

You can literally feel your face fall, as you stare at the certainly expensive arranged red roses and lilies. “I—”

“Don’t.” Terry’s smile doesn’t fade, but the slight sheen of moisture to his eyes is new. “ I know. I’d rather not hear you say it. Please.”

You’re speechless as he hands you the flowers, the refreshingly floral scent wafting up and screaming at you to wake up. You had a feeling, you knew how Terry felt about you. But you didn’t think he’d act on those feelings so soon.

“You know, I’ve been in love with you since August. You walked into the very first day of class late, wearing this gorgeous pink dress— and God, I was so whipped. I even dyed my hair the same color.” Terry laughs lightly, but you can see the heaviness in his eyes, the same thing that you feel in your chest. “I didn’t approach you, though, because I saw the way you were looking at Minho.”

You shake your head, still in disbelief. “Terry…”

“And then you walked into the kitchen at that party; it felt like a sign. But that can’t have been true, because the way you looked at him didn’t change. It never will.” He stops for a moment, taking in a shaky breath. “When you both broke up, I ignored my heart telling me not to dig myself deeper into this, to leave you alone. But I couldn’t, Y/N, because I thought that the risk would be worth it. And it was, you know. You are worth it.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, at a loss for words. You don’t know what else to say, whether it’s a reaction to how your friend is pouring out his heart to you, or the fact that he’s always known that you’d never be his.

The smile on Terry’s face is now a sharp contrast to the strings of tears that mar it. “Don’t be. It’s Minho. It’s always been Minho for you.”

He turns, but you rush forward and block him. You can’t lose someone else. Not again. “Terry, wait! Can’t we be friends?”

“Of course we can be. I’d rather have you as a friend than not in my life at all. I’ll move on, eventually. But you have to go fix things with him now.” He flashes you another one of his signature beams. It doesn’t have the same joyful effect on you as it usually does, now that it’s tainted with sadness. “I’ll see you next class. Hold onto him, okay?”

Terry leaves, and you stare after him at the door, dumbfounded, haunting the entryway of the coffee shop nearing closing hours. You never saw this confrontation coming, not today. And you didn’t want it to happen any time soon, not like this. But no matter how much you want to deny Terry’s words, you know they are the truth. You know what you have to do. Because love works in strange ways, you realize, and now yours needs to be made right.

“We shouldn’t be here.” You say, shaking your head. “It’s dangerous.”

Minho just stares at you, his eyebrow skeptically quirked in a way that shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. “It’s literally just a bridge.”

You glare at him, before looking out at the arched walkway that connects the wooded expanse of the university library to the rest of campus. According to university lore, any pair of lovers that walks over Forsaken Bridge together is doomed to suffer an untimely separation; hence, its ominous name. And you would rather look stupid for believing in superstition rather than risk losing Minho.

“It can’t be.” You cross your arms stubbornly. “I know so many couples that came here, and they ended up breaking up.”

Minho says nothing for a moment, just pondering your words, and you think he’s about to step back, allowing you to cross the bridge first, before following on his own. But then he grabs your hand, pulling you towards the bridge.

Your immediate reaction is to let out a small scream that cuts through the quiet night, and it’s quickly muffled by Minho’s hand gently closing over your mouth. “Trust me on this. Nothing bad will happen.”

You really want to remind Minho of what happened to Hyunjin and his girlfriend— well, ex-girlfriend— but you let him lead you towards your dreaded destination. Because you do trust him, more than anything.

The balmy summer night sticks to your skin, a feeling that will soon give away to the crisp bite of autumn. You’ve already moved back onto campus to get a headstart on the teaching assistant position for your biology professor, but for the first time ever, you don’t feel sad or apprehensive at the thought of going back to college again. This was the gap in time that you once despised because it signaled the unfortunate trudge of school life: textbooks, homework, and stress. But nowadays, you think it to be a reminder of something better: Minho, Minho, and Minho.

Your boyfriend takes an easy step onto the bridge, his hand tightly clasped in yours. You trail after him more cautiously, hiding behind his broad frame like the bridge will come alive and attack you. “You better not ever break up with me, Lee Minho.”

He turns back to look at you as you both near the center of the supposedly cursed bridge, his lips pressed together in a way that suggests concealed laughter; knowing him, it probably is. “Never. Now close your eyes.”

With a grumpy sigh, you oblige him, shutting your eyes. “For what, Minho?”

“I need to tell you something.” His voice is soft, almost vulnerable. It’s a new color to him, compared to how assured and confident he always seems to be.

You crack open one eye, looking at him curiously. “What is it?”

He frowns, letting go of your hand. “No peeking!”

“Okayy.”

Minho takes a deep breath, right before he turns your world upside down. “I love you.”

Your eyes fly open, and Minho doesn’t complain this time, only gazing at you nervously, clutching his right arm with his left hand like he’s a little kid again. “What did you just say?”

Regardless of his uncertain body language, he looks you directly in the eye. “I love you, Y/N. And I know it’s too soon to say it, but it’s true. I love you, and you don’t have to tell me back, but—”

“I love you too,” you blurt out, and you both just stare at each other for a moment, in mutual shyness and surprise. You can’t believe how good it feels to finally say the words that were hanging off the tip of your tongue for the past few months since you started dating.

Minho’s beautiful face breaks out into a dazzling smile as he steps closer to you. “Then let’s make our own story for this bridge. Two people crossing the bridge together will be lifelong friends. And if they kiss, lifelong lovers.”

Your poor, racing heart can’t take anymore of this; what a man that you have found. “Kiss me, then.”

Minho gives you a tender look, and in that moment, you wish you had a camera to capture it. You can’t seem to remember your initial fear of coming onto this bridge, not when you have a beautiful boy who gazes at you with nothing short of absolute adoration. You’ll follow him anywhere, if it means you’ll stay together. Always and forever.

From when you were a little girl, your parents painted fairy tales for you in your childhood bedroom, of handsome princes mounted on midnight stallions and towering castles set against sunsets. For the longest time, you thought them to be true, because by the time you might have grown up, you found your own handsome prince, who rode a secondhand bike instead of a horse, and his castle was the sweatshirt-strewn dorm room he shared with two other boys. Nevertheless, you so strongly believed you would get your own happily-ever-after, that it took you a long time to accept the thorns in the rosy brush that constituted your outlook on life. You had a hard time understanding your prince, sometimes, and ended up spinning your own stories to fill in the gaps you thought he created. It never once occurred to you that life would never be perfect, and that your prince could not be exactly who you dreamed him to be.

It’s why you stroll the length of Forsaken Bridge alone, materializing its dreary name with your head bent and hands tucked in your pockets. But you’re not surprised either, when you see your prince, standing on the very place where he made you a promise that you broke yourself. His crown is misplaced and his armor has lost its luster, but he’s your beautiful prince, still beautiful while heartbroken over you.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” you say softly.

“I shouldn’t have.” Minho stares at the deteriorating timber planks beneath your feet. “But I can’t say no when it comes to you.”

You shake your head, sniffling lightly. You both hate and love him for being so understanding, so kind, even now. You hate yourself for it, too. “I broke your heart.”

Minho blinks, clasping his hands in front of himself. “There are so many things that I’m sorry and thankful to you for, but you know I’m not good at expressing myself.”

“That’s my line, Min.” You scoff through your tears. “I tried to force you to be someone you're not. And you respond by taking care of me, like you always have. And you listened to me instead of fighting. You walked away.”

“I wanted you to be happy. That’s all I have ever wanted. With or without me in the picture.” Minho shoots you a watery smile. “I love you, you know. I always will.”

You inhale shakily. “And I love you too. I was scared of being hurt because I love you so much. I shouldn’t have been so afraid of what I didn’t know. I should have tried to ask you instead of coming to assumptions on my own.”

“We’re in this together, okay?” Minho steps forward towards you, reaching up to hold your face in his hands. “Remember what I said? You never have to be alone. I’m right here, always.”

Minho rubs his thumbs over your tears, nothing but devotion in his eyes. You touch his arms, pulling him into a hug. “I know I ruined everything, but please come back to me? I’m so, so sorry.”

“Me too. And you ruined nothing.” He squeezes you. “We still have our whole lives ahead of us.”

You draw back from the embrace, smiling through your tears— for once, they’re the good kind. “I love you, Lee Minho. Let’s start over?”

“I love you too, Y/N.” Minho whispers, a grin slowly spreading on his face. “And I don’t want to ruin the moment, but can we begin by finding an apartment, please? If I accidentally drink Hyunjin’s paint water one more time I think I will literally die.”

You laugh, raising your eyebrows at him teasingly. “Only because you want to escape Hyunjin? Not because you love me?”

He rolls his eyes playfully, a light blush tinting his pale skin. “You know what I mean.”

“You should show me what you mean.”

“I should.”

Minho obeys your command, leaning down to meet your lips in a chaste kiss, before you grasp his waist, pulling him closer and deepening the movement. God, you missed this so much. You missed him, so much. Minho’s hands reach up to cup your neck as you trace endless love letters on each other’s lips, campus curses and bad faith banished from your lovestruck young minds.

“See? Looks like our story came true.” he whispers as you come up for air, nudging your nose sweetly with his own. “Lifelong lovers, we’ll be.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Minho kisses you once more and pulls back, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “This means forever.”

Check out the rest of boys' stories on Love Playlist!

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME»

AUTHOR'S NOTE

It feels so good to get back to Love Playlist <3 This whole series itself was inspired by the cute, college au vibes of the K-drama Love Playlist and its spinoff, Dear M. (starring NCT's Jaehyun, a must-see), but this story especially was heavily based on Dear M.'s second leads. Brownie points if you've noticed which hit superhero TV series I took a piece of dialogue from! I just adore that quote so much. Anyway, I'm a sucker for Minho and this story has a special place in my heart. Can you guess who is next?! And thank you for supporting me, always! -Dreamy

P.S. ♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡

TAGLIST @chansburgah @hamburgers101@ajxreads @hash2013 @pixigreen @ana-marais98@ohish@chizumiyoshi@lilydaisyyy@jetblackbelle @143hyunes @yeahhspider

Network: @kflixnet

©jisungsdaydreamer 2023 | All rights reserved. I do not condone translations or transfers of my work onto other platforms such as Wattpad, AO3, etc. Tumblr is my only platform. Acts of plagiarism are strictly prohibited.

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nrdmssgs · 10 months

Text

Price comforting reader

Masterlist

Comforting series: Soap comforting reader König comforting reader

Hurt/comfort, fluff

Pairing: John Price x reader

Summary: You wake up from the nightmare, understanding, this is yet another night, when you won't be able to fall asleep again.

TW: reader has a PTSD, mentions of civilian surviving the aftermath of hostilities

AN: to my friend D. I miss you.

Third night in a row. This was becoming too much. You awoke with a heartbeat throbbing in your throat, echoing somewhere in between the temples. Only your hands clutching on a pillow are keeping your body from trembling of horror.

White stars, sharp shards of white light descended on the city in a wide arc. You expected that the rumble of a volley was about to reach you. But there was silence all around. A deafening, painful silence.

For others this could be a nice dream: watching the fireworks from your bedroom window. But not for you, because that window, that bedroom, that house and that part of the city were no more there.

Although it was so long ago, that you've got used to your new view out of the bedroom window, these nightmares of your previous life still haunted you. It didn't happen every single night - sometimes you even had full months without bad dreams. But they always came back sooner or later.

This time it was particularly bad. You did everything, the doctors prescripted you to do: sport, walks before bedtime, chamomile tea with mint, medication. You even managed to start having that smartphone-free hour before bed.

Ok, to be absolutely honest: John managed to get you to put your phone down a couple of hours before bed. And all the week that he stayed with you, you repeated the same ritual. In the evening, he sat on the sofa next to you and held out his open palm.

“You know the drill, love: doomscrolling ends in a minute. One way or another. You can make it easy for yourself if you cooperate.” For the last three evenings, you didn't cooperate. But Price had his ways to make you forget, you even had a smartphone in your hand just 10 minutes earlier.

So you both did everything possible to get you relaxed and tired by the end of the day. Sadly, it didn't help.

You've slept at most 10 hours in total over the past 3 days. But what made you outrageous: John barely slept too, as he was up the very next second after you whimpered in your sleep. You still didn’t understand what happened, you didn’t wake up from a nightmare fully, and his hands were already wrapped around you.

“Sh-h-h, love, you're safe, you are safe, it's just a dream. Come on, breathe for me. Yes, just like that. Very good. Nice and deep inhale, now hold it for a few seconds and an exhale. I'm right here, you are safe with me. This won't happen ever again, I'll make sure of that.”

You tried to calm down and go back to sleep. Every time, you tried so hard, but it just didn't work. You ended up too hot, worn out with an aching head, incredibly tired and crushed by guilt as you notice dark circles under John's eyes.

So when you wake up on the third night and see John still sleeping, you sneak out of the bed and sneak into the only place that seems safe to you after such a dream. You stop in the doorway between the kitchen and the hallway and slide down the wall. Then you shrink, curl up and wrap your arms around your knees.

You don't even have enough strength to cry. Your head is killing you, and visions from the nightmare still haunt you.

Why the hell was everything dead silent in your dream? Just like here now, at this late hour.

The bed creaked a little, and you heard John's footsteps. He found you instantly and already knew what to do. He turned on the table lamp in the next room to illuminate the surrounding space a little, but not to hit the light in your eyes. Hastily returned and sank to the floor next to you.

“Which one this time?” He asks. “The white one.”

He froze for a moment. He wished his military background would never come in handy in his domestic life. At least not in this way.

“I was standing before the window like a complete idiot. I should have run, sought for a place to hide, reach the shelter… And just stood there.” You mumble, dropping your head between your arms.

John engulfs you, cradles your limp, exhausted body and plants a kiss on your forehead.

“I`m sorry, you must have seen it for a thousand times on your… work. It must be insignificant to you John, please go back and rest. I don't want you to hate me for depriving you of sleep because of such a trifle.”

“Under no circumstance will I ever feel anything like hate, when it comes to you.” His voice is a tad husky after waking up in the middle of the night. “Those animals doing this to you, tearing your home apart, are the ones, for whom I have hate. A lot of it.”

He pulls you closer to keep you warm. “And your health, your wellbeing, is the most important thing out there. Believe me, whatever filth I've seen on a battlefield - it pales in comparison to the mere thought that you are suffering.”

He doesn't rush you off the floor, he gives you time to recover by massaging your wrists and talking softly. John knows that his deep voice has a calming effect on you.

He periodically leans closer to whisper how much he loves you and how much he appreciates every minute spent next to you. Even such a minute when you are both exhausted and sitting on the hard, cold floor.

He rejects all your offers for him to go to sleep alone.

“Go sleep knowing, that you are here in such a state? Not going to happen.”

He takes you to the couch, brings you water, and watches the first lights of the dawn with you. You tuck your face in the crook of his neck and let your worries gradually dissolve.

Maybe this is not the last bout of insomnia in your life. But from now on, you are sure, you'll always John by your side.

#cod #cod x reader #cod modern warfare #john price fanfic #john price x reader #john price x you #captain john price #john price #john price mw2 #cod mw2 #john price x y/n #cod mwii #cod x you #cod x y/n #captain price x you #captain price x reader #captain price imagine #captain price #captain price fluff

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smilesrobotlover · 5 days

Text

First| <-previous next-> (coming soon)

AO3

Chapter 7- The Meeting

The letter from Link has been haunting Zelda since she’s read it. She had planned to meet with the resistance in two days, and even moved her schedule around for it, but Link was demanding to meet with them now. It seemed that they would be here tonight, but Zelda was struggling to make time to meet them.

During the many meetings, it was all she could think about. How she was going to get to Telma’s bar, how she was going to disguise herself as Sheik, what she was going to say to Edmund and Amber. She was probably going to miss supper for this, but it was fine, this was more important than supper. She just wished that it hadn’t happened so last minute.

Goddesses, why couldn’t they wait two more days?

She didn’t pay attention to any of the meetings, anxious to get them done and to leave to get to the next one. She’d nearly fallen asleep countless times, and Edmund would discreetly wake her back up so she wouldn’t humiliate herself—which she was grateful for. She really wasn’t fit for any of this queen business at the moment, but there was so much to do, such little time.

As soon as the current meeting ended, Zelda found herself sitting in her chair, staring blankly at the wall instead of rushing to get to lunch. This was her only break, and she didn’t have the energy to move. Edmund didn’t move either, and he spoke to the nobles and representatives for Zelda as she stared. Soon the room was empty, and the two were left alone.

“Zelda,” Edmund started softly.

“It’s fine, Edmund. I just need a moment.”

Edmund stared at her. “You weren’t at breakfast.”

“No I was not.”

“You’ve missed breakfast these past few days.”

“I have.”

“And you’re about to miss lunch.”

“That’s fine.”

“And you look like death.”

Zelda gave Edmund an annoyed look and he leaned forward. “Zelda, you’re killing yourself. Why don’t you tell me everything that’s happening? Why don’t you let me help?”

Zelda continued to stare silently, not in the mood to argue.

“Look, I’m worried about you. I do… care about you. We were good friends as kids, and those memories I can’t forget. I want you to be taken care of, is that so wrong?”

Zelda stayed silent.

“You’re exhausted and you’re hungry,” Edmund continued when she said nothing, “I don’t want to think about how dehydrated you are. Just, come to lunch, take a break, and take care of yourself.”

“I can’t take a break whenever I want, I have too much to do—“

“Oh my Labryn, Zelda, the nobles can wait! They can wait for you! You need to take care of yourself first!”

Zelda sighed and stood up. “I’m not in the mood for this right now, Edmund.”

“When will you be in the mood? When you’re on your deathbed? I’m not wanting to wait until then!”

The queen didn’t respond and went to walk away. It was childish to not say anything, but she was too tired to argue. Too tired to think of something to say. She was just… so tired…

She reached the door and leaned against the wall, holding her aching head. She suddenly felt lightheaded and sick to her stomach. She heard footsteps approach her from behind and she gave Edmund a glare.

“Zelda?”

She huffed and reached for the door, but black dots appeared in her vision, and she felt herself begin to stagger.

“Zelda!”

Her stomach did somersaults as she began to fall, and soon she was surrounded by darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was beginning to set as Rusl and Link arrived at castle town. They moved quickly through the field, and Link could tell Epona was enjoying the free movement. She had become just as stir-crazy as he did after his adventure, so when she had a chance to move around outside of Ordon, she clearly enjoyed herself. When they arrived, they quickly got off their horses and headed into the town, trying not to take up too much space with their large animals. Normally, Link would let Epona roam free in the field while he did his errands in town, but after what he’s found out, he decided against it. It took a while to get to the bar; surprisingly the town was busy despite the day coming to an end, and people were always blocking their way, causing the horses to grow upset with the small space. Rusl and Link finally were able to tie their horses to a post near Telma’s bar where less people were at, and they hopped down the stairs and entered it. The bar was relatively empty, save for a few patrons who were quietly drinking by themselves. As usual, the place was dark and was only lit up by torches and candles scattered throughout. In the back, Telma and Auru were chatting at the table they all normally sat at, and Telma’s face lit up when she saw the two men, quickly burying them both in a hug when they got close.

“Link! Rusl! It’s so good to see you two!” She exclaimed, giving their shoulders a firm pat when she pulled away. Link smiled politely and let her lead the two men to the back table, where Auru was smiling.

“I figured you’d both be here tonight,” Auru said, ruffling Rusl’s hair as he sat down. “So what’s going on?”

“I’ll explain everything after Ashei and Shad get here,” Rusl said simply, fixing his ruffled hair.

“Hm, we sure they’ll be here tonight? This was pretty last minute.” Auru asked, leaning forward to look at both Rusl and Link.

“I know, I know it’s inconvenient but… it’s important,” Rusl frowned as Telma set down a mug of ginger ale in front of him, which he began to pick at mindlessly. “Me and Link found what’s been causing these disappearances, there’s no need to waste time anymore.”

Auru raised his eyebrows and he nodded knowingly. “Well then, that is quite important.”

Link nodded, staring at the milk in front of him—neither him nor his father bothered to drink anything. It was silent for a moment until Rusl awkwardly cleared his throat, catching Link and Auru’s attention.

“Well, we’re lucky you’re here, we won’t have to wait for you. You’re a lot harder to get a hold of than the others,” Rusl stated with a smile, and Auru gave a hearty laugh.

“Oh, my boy, I haven’t left castle town in weeks.”

“Did Sheik send you a letter?”

“He did. He told me to ask around castle town to gather information. It’s the only thing I’m capable of doing now,” Auru leaned back in his chair and stretched slowly, a pained expression on his face. “I’m getting too old for all this action.”

Rusl frowned and went back to staring at his drink. Link studied his father’s face, but it remained blank. When he really wanted to be, he was a master at hiding his emotions. There was a moment of silence again, being interrupted by Telma coming by to bring food for the two men, and Link couldn’t help but cheer softly.

“Oh goddesses, thank you Telma,” he said, already digging in, “I’m starvin’.”

Telma laughed and patted his shoulder. “I figured you’d both be hungry from the journey!”

“Aw, you didn’t have to do that, Telma,” Rusl chuckled slightly, and Telma lightly punched his shoulder.

“Oh, you hush, it’s the least I can do for my friends! Now eat up while we wait for the lovebirds to arrive!”

Link stared at Telma as she walked away, and he turned to look at Auru. “Are Ashei and Shad—“

“Engaged.”

Link’s mouth dropped. “Engaged? When did this happen?”

“A couple of weeks ago.”

Rusl and Link both glanced at each other in shock. Link knew that there was something going on between them, but after ten years, he figured that it was nothing.

“How did you know about this?” Link asked.

“They announced it when they stopped by,” Auru explained, gesturing with his hands. “I hang around here most of the time so me and Telma got to hear about it.”

“It’s about time,” Rusl scoffed, a teasing smile on his lips. “Those two were drivin’ me crazy!”

“No kidding! It’s a little late though. I doubt Ashei would be able to have kids at her age.”

Rusl’s face scrunched up. “What are you talkin’ about? She’s barely thirty! And you’re a fool if you think that Ashei and Shad would even want kids.”

“Oh come now, they’re good with kids!”

Rusl gave Link a look and he snorted. They both knew that they were terrible with kids. They could keep them alive, but they couldn’t keep them from crying. Auru rolled his eyes and waved his hand away.

“I just think it’s a waste to get married and then not have kids.”

“That’s an old way of thinking, Auru,” Rusl said, finally taking a sip of his ginger ale. “Some people don’t need to have kids. It ain’t our business what they want to do anyways.”

Auru scoffed slightly, but he didn’t continue. Link continued to eat in silence, not realizing how sloppy he was being. He was ravenous. He felt Auru watching him and he looked up.

“What?”

“You’re eating like a growing teenage boy. When was the last time you ate?” Auru teased slightly, and Link scratched the back of his head.

“It’s… actually been less than two days,” he muttered, giving Rusl a look. Neither of them ate dinner before searching the woods. They spent the next day sleeping and then the whole day traveling. Auru’s eyes widened when Rusl and Link remained silent, both having guilty looks on their faces.

“Neither of you have eaten in two days?” He asked, shocked.

“Maybe a bit longer than that–” Link muttered, and Rusl jabbed at him lightly.

“It’s fine—“ Rusl quickly said, but Auru shook his head.

“Eat that food Telma gave you, boy!” He commanded in a stern tone. Rusl quickly turned to the food and started eating it, looking like a guilty kid. Link snorted slightly and his pa glared him down. Auru patted his back with a satisfied look and leaned back.

“Must’ve been a crazy few days. What did Sheik have you do?”

“He wanted us to investigate a missing woman and Goron from Kakariko,” Link answered since Rusl’s mouth was full of bread.

“Ah, so that’s how you found it.”

Link glanced at Rusl who went back to staring blankly at the food. Auru picked up on the mood change and frowned.

“What is it?”

“We’ll explain when Shad and Ashei get here,” Rusl said quietly. Auru looked between the two and frowned.

“Alright,” he said, a worried look on his face as he stared at Rusl. It grew silent at the table again and the old man glanced up, his face lighting up. “Speaking of…”

Link turned around and saw Ashei and Shad walking to the group. Ashei looked annoyed while Shad smiled at the group. Rusl turned as well and shot up from his seat, marching towards the two.

“Hey! You two jerks!” He shouted, pulling them both into a hug. “You can’t just get engaged and not tell me!”

“Well next time, be here when we visit!” Shad teased, hugging him back. Ashei smiled slightly and gave Link a nod as he walked up to the two.

“When’s the wedding?” Rusl asked, his hands on the two’s arms.

“Don’t know yet, we’re just playing it by ear,” Shad answered, looking at Ashei who nodded.

“We’re in no rush,” she added.

“Well, you better have me as your best man, alright?” Rusl said with a smirk.

“My dear Rusl, I wouldn’t have it any other way!” Shad laughed. He glanced at Link and walked towards him. “And how are you doing, old boy?”

Link chuckled and gave him a side hug. “I’m doin’ fine. I’m happy for y’all!”

“Oh thank you,” Shad glanced at Ashei who was chatting with Rusl, a happy expression on his face. “I wouldn’t have imagined being with her, but here we are.”

“Love is a fickle thing, isn’t it?”

“Indeed it is.”

Rusl and Ashei walked up to the two. “Let’s sit down and talk, yeah?” Ashei started, “I want to know why you both were so intent on meeting today.”

“We can’t, not without Sheik,” Rusl sighed, sitting down. “He’s not here yet.”

“This has been eating me up inside, and you’re saying I have to wait longer?” Shad said lightheartedly.

Ashei pulled Shad down in the seat next to hers and gave him a look. “Sheik may be busy, this was pretty last minute, yeah?”

“So I’ve been told,” Rusl grumbled. Auru patted him on the shoulder with a chuckle, and the group started to lightly poke fun at Rusl. Telma came by with food and drinks for the couple that arrived, and she closed the curtains to give them privacy.

“Tell me when you start talking about what happened,” she said, “I still have work to do, but I’ll be sure to kick everyone out.”

“Sure thing Telma,” Link said with a nod, and the curtains were fully closed, leaving the group isolated from the drunkards that came to the bar.

“So… what did Sheik have you two do?” Link asked the couple, and they glanced at each other.

“Sheik told us to help investigate the disappearances with a captain named Hoz,” Ashei answered. “We really weren’t finding anything of importance though.”

“Ah, did you come here with him?”

“No, he was quite intent on continuing the investigations,” Shad jumped in, pushing his glasses up his nose. “That was the most focused soldier of Hyrule I’ve ever met.”

“It’s good, Hyrule needs more men like him,” Ashei said, staring at her drink.

“Though he was sort of a pain to work with,” Shad mumbled.

Ashei snorted. “He was. Everything needed to go his way otherwise he would implode.”

“... Does Hyrule still need more men like him?” Auru asked cheekily, and Ashei glared at him.

“Yes.”

Shad laughed slightly and sat up straight. “Yes yes, he was still good to work with. I’m glad that some soldiers are still trying to do their jobs.”

Ashei gave a knowing nod and took a sip of her drink as the others mumbled in agreement. The group started to chat about mundane things, how they were doing, how the families were doing, and what they had planned afterwards. Link was constantly looking over his shoulder, expecting Sheik to suddenly appear (which he did every time they met up), yet there was no sign of him. Rusl was getting more anxious as the evening went on, constantly fidgeting with his hands or pacing the small room, pretending to be observing the wall. Soon it became too late–the bar was fully empty as Telma closed it down and kicked out angry drunks, and the only area lit up was the back room where the resistance sat. Yet no sign of Sheik, and Auru finally let out a loud sigh.

“I don’t think Sheik is coming.”

“We just need to be patient,” Ashei said, “she’s a busy person.”

Auru frowned. “‘She?’ You think Sheik’s a woman?”

Ashei’s eyes widened for a moment, but she quickly recovered. “W-well, Sheik is just a mysterious person, that’s all. I uh… say she could be a woman… or… something.”

The group stared at Ashei who stared hard at her drink.

“And what makes you think they’re a woman?” Auru pressed, a teasing smile on his lips.

“What makes you think they’re a man?” Ashei snapped back, getting angry. Auru raised his hands defensively.

“I’m just teasing you. You just never get flustered like that!”

Ashei glared at him and started cursing under her breath in frustration. Shad cleared his throat, wrapping an arm around her.

“Well, it doesn’t matter if Sheik is a man or a woman, what matters is that they’re not here right now.” He glanced up at Rusl who was still pacing back and forth near a corner. “We should start without them.”

Ashei sighed and nodded, a defeated look on her face. Auru nodded as well and stood up to drag Rusl back to the table. Link stared worriedly at his pa as he sat down, his face drained of all blood as he stared blankly at the table.

“Goddesses, are you alright?” Shad asked, and Rusl waved his concern away.

“‘M fine,” he mumbled. The group didn’t seem convinced by that answer, but they didn’t say anything else.

“Well, Link, Rusl,” Auru started, “tell us what happened. What is taking these missing people?”

Link glanced at Rusl who was still staring at the table, and he stood up, deciding to lead the conversation.

“Do you guys remember the shadow beasts?”

The group all froze, staring at Link with wide eyes.

“Shadow beasts? You mean those horrible black creatures that plagued all of Hyrule during the Twilight invasion?” Shad asked, and Link nodded.

“Yes, I… me and my pa found one in the woods… two nights ago,” Link frowned for a moment, that night feeling ages ago. He continued, “I think it’s a shadow beast that’s gotten stronger for the past ten years. It’s what’s been taking these people.”

“Oh… Labryn…” Ashei muttered under her breath.

“How do you know it’s the cause of all these disappearances?” Auru asked.

“We–uh—” Link glanced at Rusl who was still unmoving. “We sorta… found out the hard way…”

“Oh no… did someone–?” Shad started, but Link quickly stopped him.

“No, no it’s ok. I was able to stop the abduction but… I think it’s pretty obvious that this… mutated shadow beast is what’s causing all the disappearances.”

“Ok,” Ashei breathed out, “so it’s one of those shadow beasts, a little mutated, but we know what it is now. We should go out looking for it, yeah?”

Link pursed his lips. “Yes, but… be warned. I fought so many of those things by myself back then–”

“Yes you did! You were marvelous with the way you slashed them with your sword!” Shad exclaimed, swinging his arm around as if he had a weapon. Link smiled but it quickly went away.

“Yeah, well… I fought this one, and it didn’t die no matter what I did, so… I think we should be careful. We can’t underestimate this thing.”

The group nodded.

“Alright, well, thank you for telling us Link,” Auru said. “No one in Castle Town described anything like that.”

“No kidding,” Ashei replied and Link nodded glumly. This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let such a thing live, he couldn’t help but feel guilty over it.

“Well, it’s late, we can discuss plans tomorrow, but in the meantime, I think we should all get some rest,” Auru stared sternly at Rusl and Link, “you two especially. I can tell you need it.”

Link smiled slightly and Rusl got up quietly, leaving the room in an instant. The group stared in shock as he disappeared behind the curtain. Auru looked at Link and pointed at where Rusl left.

“Is he alright?”

“I… I don’t know…” Link looked down, debating on whether he should tell them the details of what happened, but he really didn’t want to, and he didn’t know if Rusl would want him to. “He’s probably just tired… the uh… the shadow beast was… aggressive to say the least. I’m gonna go talk to him real quick.”

He felt everyone’s eyes on him as he left, and he glanced at Telma who looked worried, but she forced a smile when she saw Link.

“Did you all start the conversation without me?”

“Oh— goddesses Telma I’m so sorry—“

Telma waved his apology away. “I’ll make the others tell me. Rusl went upstairs, sweet pea.”

Link nodded and slowly walked up the stairs, his entire body suddenly feeling heavy. He glanced around at the secret upstairs inn, trying to remember which one was normally reserved for him and Rusl. He poked his head in the first room, finding Rusl laying on one of the beds, his hands resting on his face. Rusl flinched when he sensed another person near him, but he quickly relaxed when it was Link.

“Spirits, Link,” he chuckled, lying back down. Link smiled and sat down on the other bed across from him.

“Pa… are you…?” He started, but he stopped when Rusl glanced at him. Rusl’s face didn’t hold any annoyance, but instead guilt. He sat up and sighed.

“I’m ok, Link. I’m… sorry for how I was acting down there… I just…” Rusl paused for a moment before sighing again, resting against the wall. Link tilted his head

“What?”

“Oh… it’s not your burden to bear.”

“Well… I kinda already know why you’re upset so… hiding it from me is a fruitless effort.”

Rusl grinned slightly. “I suppose so… I just…. Ever since that night I’ve been feeling so… terrified every waking moment—no—even when I’m trying to sleep I’m terrified, I just—“ he stopped himself and rubbed his face. “I don’t know.”

Link frowned. “I know the shadow beasts would turn people into other shadow beasts, maybe you’re still feeling the effects from that?”

Rusl shrugged, a disturbed look on his face.

“You… also were almost eaten,” Link chuckled darkly, “that would traumatize anyone.”

Rusl smirked slightly, but it quickly went away, so Link continued.

“I mean… I know I’ve nearly been eaten myself. So many times. By giant plants, and a giant eel, and wolfos trying to tear me to pieces, and spiders, and I guess smaller plants too, plus another giant spider, and possibly a lot of other things and—“

Rusl’s face had grown more concerned the longer Link rambled, and he quickly tried to recover.

“I-I mean, I turned out fine! Maybe? I mean maybe I haven’t turned out fine but—but it’s fine! I’ve kinda gotten used to it, everything trying to eat me. Heh, it makes me wonder if I taste good. I mean Midna will definitely say that I taste good but, you know—“

“Link, I don’t need to know this,” Rusl interrupted him, though he almost seemed amused. Link blushed slightly and scratched the back of his head.

“S-sorry, that kinda came out.”

Rusl chuckled slightly, which made Link feel a little better. He observed his father’s tired face and frowned.

“Pa… you should get some rest.”

Rusl raised an eyebrow. “Doting and worrying is supposed to be my job Link, not yours.”

“Well, who did I get it from?” Link rebutted, and Rusl laughed.

“Correction then: doting is a parent’s job.”

“But I am a parent.”

“Not my parent!”

Link snorted and Rusl joined him in his laughter. It felt good to laugh after these past few days. Link sniffed and sighed, staring at Rusl’s bed.

“You should get some rest though, Pa.”

“You should get some rest too, Link.”

Link pursed his lips and looked down, shifting uncomfortably.

“Not as much as you.”

Rusl raised an eyebrow. “How much sleep have you gotten in the past forty-eight hours?”

Link clamped his mouth shut. “I… um… like… four…. hours…?”

Rusl smirked and gestured for him to come over. Link sighed and trudged over to him, the lack of sleep catching up to him. He rested against Rusl’s side while he wrapped his arm around him, and Link finally relaxed. It always felt good to be held by one of his parents. Being an adult, it didn’t happen as often compared to when he was a kid. Rusl started playing with the tip of his ear and he lightly kissed his forehead.

“I’m proud of you, Link,” he said softly.

“For what?”

“For becoming the man you are today. You’re a good person, determined, and kind. And I’m proud of you for it.”

Link smiled slightly. “But you and ma raised me to be that way.”

“Oh, we were only trying to nudge you kids in the right direction. Ultimately, it was you who chose to become a good person. Give yourself more credit.”

Link sighed and drowsiness began to get the better of him.

“Thanks. I love you pa.”

Sleep began to take over him as he heard his pa say one last thing.

“I love you too, my son.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zelda awoke with a jolt. She was in her bed, her heavy dress was replaced with a lighter one, and her daughter was reading a book by her side. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, startling Amber.

“Mother! You’re awake!” She exclaimed, closing her book. “We were so worried!”

Zelda looked around the room, confused. How long has she been out?

“Father came to me and asked me to stay by your side! I hadn’t left once!” Amber continued. “I’ve just been reading this book about birds, I’m hoping to find one to match the birds Hylians used to ride, but so far none of them have been big enough…”

“Amber,” Zelda rubbed her eyes, still feeling exhausted. “Where’s your father?”

“He’s in meetings right now, he said he’ll come by to see if you’re awake!”

Zelda groaned and rubbed her face. What had been happening while she was out? She hated not being in control of everything.

“I hope you’re alright,” Amber added quietly, and Zelda glanced over at her. She had a worried look on her face, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m fine, thank you for watching over me,” Zelda said with a smile, and Amber beamed at the praise.

“I’m so glad mother! Do you want me to fetch you some supper? It’s a little late but—“

“Wait, how long have I been asleep?”

“Oh! Um… a few hours.”

Zelda tried to hide her frustration, and she turned away as she groaned. She didn’t have time for this. She still needed to meet with the resistance! If she didn’t leave now…

Amber gasped as Zelda started to get out of bed, ignoring the vertigo that assaulted her.

“Um… mother? Father told me to make sure you stayed in bed a-and—“

“I’ll be fine, Amber,” Zelda grumbled, but she knew she wouldn’t be. It didn’t matter though, she needed to be somewhere.

“But… father said…” Amber’s voice trailed off, and Zelda heard another person enter the room.

“Zelda,” Edmund’s voice called out, and she sighed. Great.

“Father!” Amber hopped up and ran to him. “Mother’s awake! Do you want me to get a meal for her?”

“No, I already sent a maid to do that, my dear. You go get yourself to bed.”

Amber nodded and looked back at Zelda. “Goodnight mother.”

Zelda smiled slightly. “Goodnight Amber.”

She lingered for a moment, her mouth agape, but she finally turned away and left the room. Edmund and Zelda remained silent, both staring intensely at each other. Finally, Edmund let out a huff and started to walk forward.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” he said, “I brought you something.”

Zelda frowned. “What is it?”

Edmund sat down on the bed with her and handed her a little box. She carefully opened it to reveal a chocolate orange. She blinked several times, wondering if the lack of sleep had finally caught up to her and that she was hallucinating it. But the smell hit her nostrils, and she lightly traced the chocolatey edges.

“I remember you loved these things as a kid,” Edmund muttered, a nostalgic smile on his face. “I always hated them, but I did enjoy eating one slice with you whenever you had them.”

Zelda couldn’t help but smile as she grabbed a slice of the chocolate. She glanced at Edmund and her smile dropped slightly.

“How do you know I still love these?” She asked, and Edmund took in a quiet, deep breath.

“Do you?”

Zelda looked down and put one in her mouth. The chocolate instantly melted as it hit her tongue, the sweet flavor mixing with the tanginess of the orange rewarding her taste buds, and she couldn’t help but close her eyes in satisfaction. She hasn’t had one of these in years.

“It seems you still like it,” Edmund chuckled. Zelda opened her eyes and turned away, embarrassed.

“Yes,” she mumbled. Edmund hummed and leaned back, resting on his hands.

“I’m glad.”

Zelda turned to look at him, his mustache lifted up with his smile. “Why’d you bring this to me?” She asked.

“Oh, I figured you’d need an energy boost. Chocolate does wonders for that,” Edmund reached for a slice. “May I?”

Zelda nodded and offered one to him. He took a slice and bit into half of it. His face scrunched up in disgust and he covered his mouth. “Eugh, I still don’t like it.”

Zelda smiled and almost let out a giggle. “That’s quite a shame, they’re so delightful.”

Edmund grinned and stared at the uneaten slice. “I probably should’ve put the full thing in my mouth, now what will I do with this?”

Zelda stared at it for a moment, and before she could even think, she plucked it out of his hand.

“Can’t let it go to waste,” she said before putting the rest of the slice in her mouth. Edmund looked surprised but his expression softened into a pleasant smile. Zelda looked away, her face flushing slightly, and she picked at the remaining chocolates. “Thank you for this Edmund, that was very thoughtful of you.”

Edmund nodded. “Of course. I… I just want to help out.”

It grew silent between the two—any feeling of contentment was gone in an instant. Edmund picked up on Zelda’s discomfort and he let out a sigh.

“Why won’t you accept my help?”

Zelda glanced up at him. Where an accusatory and bitter tone normally was, this time, there was just curiosity. He was trying, it was only fair that Zelda tried as well.

But could she trust him?

It was kind of him to try to help her, but was he trying to manipulate her into trusting him? She remembered her father always showering her mother with gifts whenever he did something to upset her. It was always a way to regain her trust. Was Edmund trying to do the same?

“Listen, becoming the king of Hyrule hasn’t been an easy transition for me,” Edmund started, his back turned to Zelda, “Labrynna gives its power to the king, but here in Hyrule, all of the power goes to the queen.” He let out a breath while Zelda remained silent. He’s never told her this before. “I admit I’ve felt…. Emasculated as a result, and I’ve been acting childish because of it. For that I am sorry.” He glanced back at Zelda, an almost worried expression on his face, but Zelda stayed quiet. “But, I feel useless. I feel like I’m being used for my connection to my family, and that I’m nothing more than an object to your people and… I suppose that’s why I’ve been… frustrated about you keeping things to yourself. But… looking at you now, I’ve grown more worried than upset. You’ve overworked yourself so much to the point that you collapsed. That’s not a good thing. I suppose I… I just want to know why you’re so intent on doing everything yourself, when I’m here to… help you.”

Zelda stared at him for a moment, his emerald green eyes never leaving hers. For once, Zelda couldn’t find her words. She knew she should try to communicate with him—he was being so open with her, but why? Was he trying to worm his way into her life? Or was he being genuine? He’s never taken the time to sit down and talk to her about things, but then again, Zelda never gave him the chance. Did he deserve her to try to be open as well? She turned away, emotions running rampant. She couldn’t cry, it wasn’t queenly to do so, but she was so tired. She took a deep breath to control herself.

“I… I don’t know if I can trust you,” she finally said softly. She felt Edmund shift beside her.

“Why?”

“I–I’ve watched my father strip my mother of all her power. He took everything away from her, ruled Hyrule as a tyrant, and took control of every aspect of my life. It doesn’t matter if Hyrule gives the power to the queen, the king can take over and I can’t let that happen again. It’s happened to me twice now and… I just… I–” She hiccuped slightly and she rubbed her exhausted eyes. It was quiet as she once again tried to take control of her emotions, and she glanced up at Edmund, who looked horrified.

“I had no idea,” he finally said. “I always– I know we didn’t see each other a lot but… I didn’t know…”

Zelda sniffed and sat up straight. “My father did a good job at hiding it. And he made sure I hid it as well.”

Edmund gave her a sad look. “I’m so sorry. I…” He grew silent for a moment. “... thank you for telling me. I’ll leave you be. A maid should come by with food for you.”

“I-I can’t stay I need to–”

“Zelda.” Edmund gave her a firm look. “I…I ask that you give yourself rest and proper nourishment, please.”

Zelda stared for a moment, remembering the resistance. “I can’t. I still need to meet up with—“ she stopped herself and Edmund raised an eyebrow.

“With… your friends that are taking care of the disappearances?”

Zelda pursed her lips. “Yes.”

“Perhaps I can meet with them in your stead.”

She shook her head quickly. “No I—“ they didn’t know that she was the queen; if Edmund came instead, they would figure it out, even if one already knew about it. And she certainly couldn’t tell Edmund about Sheik. Frustration was apparent on Edmund’s face, and he sucked in a sharp breath and stood up.

“So are you just going to keep pushing yourself until you die? Sure, you may not trust me, I understand that. But you have representatives, diplomats, nobles, even guards that could go in your stead! Why can’t you utilize them?”

“Edmund. I. Can’t. A-at least…” Zelda looked down, her eyes going back and forth between the chocolate orange, the bed, and Edmund. He did have a point; she couldn’t keep going on like this. She really could end up dying from her neglect, which would be an awful thing for Amber and for the resistance. But she knew no one could help the resistance with the disappearances. She had to take care of that herself. But… perhaps with everything else…. Goddesses, she hoped she wasn’t making a mistake. “Could you… just take care of the meetings tomorrow? I must deal with these disappearances on my own.”

Edmund’s expression softened and he nodded. “I’ll take care of them.”

Zelda smiled. “Thank you.”

“Will you… visit Amber before you leave anywhere?”

Her lips parted and she nodded. Edmund nodded back, and for the first time in years, there was a mutual understanding between them. Edmund hesitated for a moment before finally turning to leave. Zelda was left alone, and she contemplated everything that had just happened.

She collapsed after a meeting and slept through the entire day. Her daughter stayed by her side while Edmund took care of the rest of the day. He brought her chocolates and they had a conversation that didn’t result in them fighting. They opened up to each other… and now…

She sighed. She needed to meet with the resistance, that was her first priority. Hopefully it wasn’t too late.

She wasted no time to get into her disguise, despite her exhausted body and rumbling stomach. Just as she was about to sneak out, she remembered what Edmund asked of her.

“Will you… visit Amber before you leave anywhere?”

She sighed. She’s been a terrible mother to her own daughter, not spending any time with her despite Amber desperately wanting to. If the resistance needing to meet up tonight hadn’t been about the missing people, she probably would have been tempted to stay. Maybe spend time with her family, her daughter, and try to be the mother Amber deserved. But she knew this was important; it had better be important. She needed to take care of this, and she needed to find the missing people so that Hyrule would be safe for Amber. If the resistance found out important information about the disappearances—like where the missing people were—she would personally go to rescue them herself and eradicate any threat that came in her way. This threat would come to an end, Zelda would make sure of it.

But it meant she would be gone for a while. So she didn’t know when she would see Amber again.

Zelda quietly snuck into Amber’s room, her daughter curled up in her bed, clutching a bird stuffed animal to her chest. She brought her mask down and walked up to her daughter, emotions going through her once again. Her sweet little Amber, growing up before her very eyes, and she was missing all of it.

Her hand brushed against Amber’s temple and she began to stir. She looked up at her mother and furrowed her brow.

“Mother?”

Zelda’s breath hitched and she helped Amber sit up.

“Amber,” she started, “I know… I know I haven’t been the best mother, but I want you to know that I love you with every fiber of my being.” Zelda pulled Amber close and hugged her. “I love you so much.”

She rocked her back and forth, Amber clinging to her tightly. Despite her dry eyes, Zelda found tears forming, and she had to choke back a sob. Amber however wasn’t hiding her crying, and she felt her tears soaking into her clothes. She finally pulled back, wiping away a tear on Amber’s cheek and rested her forehead against hers.

“I promise I’ll try to be better,” Zelda whispered, pecking her on the forehead, and she stood up, walking towards the door.

“M-mother?” Amber called out.

“I’ll be back,” Zelda promised. “Just stay here with your father and focus on your studies. I… I love you.”

“I love you too…”

Zelda’s heart hurt more than her aching body as she turned away. How many times has she turned her own daughter away? How many times has she brushed her off when Amber reached out? She ran out, her frustrations over herself giving her the energy she needed to escape the castle. How will Amber view her when she grew older? Would she resent her the same way Zelda resented her father? Would she feel unloved by her own mother? She stopped as she reached the entrance to the courtyard, looking back at the castle. She was panting heavily, sad and angry tears finally pouring down her face.

It didn’t matter what her father tried to do to her, Zelda never felt worthy of being queen. She didn’t feel worthy of anything in her life. Especially her own daughter.

Amber deserved a better mother.

For a moment as she stared at her castle, she thought she saw Edmund watching her, but his supposed silhouette went away in an instant. She turned away, her head hanging, and finally marched to Telma’s bar.

It was late, she didn’t know how late it was, but it was late enough for no one to be out in the streets save for a few guards. Sheik’s stomach was cramping terribly, and her throat and tongue felt like sandpaper. She almost wished she stayed behind to eat the food Edmund got for her, but she knew she couldn’t let the resistance down. She leaned against a wall catching her breath, her hand rubbing against a box in her pouch. She didn’t know why she grabbed the chocolate orange Edmund gave her; she supposed she couldn’t leave it behind. She continued onward to Telma’s bar, feeling that it was a much longer walk than what she remembered. She normally went through the dungeons to reach Telma’s bar, but from how she was feeling, she didn’t have the strength to go that way. As if to prove her right, her knees nearly buckled as she went down the stairs, causing her to stumble into the door. She pulled back and blinked harshly trying to clear her head. She took a deep breath to calm herself and she went inside. The bell rang loudly through the empty bar, announcing her presence.

“Sorry, we’re closed right now,” she heard Telma call out from the back. The barmaid poked her head from the curtains and her face lit up. “Sheik! Well, it’s about time you got here, honey!”

Sheik awkwardly shuffled forward, allowing herself to be hugged by Telma.

“S-sorry I’m late,” she mumbled, not caring if Telma heard her or not.

“Oh… it’s not me you should apologize to. The others have already gone to bed, save for Ashei and Shad— well… actually it’s just Ashei,” Telma laughed slightly. Sheik was disappointed that the others had already gone to sleep, it was much later than what she hoped for, but she was slightly relieved that Ashei was the only one awake save for Telma. Though Sheik had tried to keep her Royal identity a secret, Ashei had found out about it. She had to admit, it was nice not having to hide everything from one person. She could at least confide in her with everything that has been happening.

“My, you look terrible,” Telma continued, eyeing Sheik worriedly. “Here, let me whip you up something real quick—“

“Oh, no you don’t have to do that—“ a loud grumble from her stomach interrupted her and Telma raised an eyebrow. Sheik looked down, embarrassed. “Apologies.”

“You’re alright sweetheart, just head to the back and I’ll get you some soup.”

Sheik nodded and walked to the back where she saw Ashei and Shad sitting next to each other. Shad was asleep, his head against Ashei’s shoulder, while Ashei had her arm wrapped around him. She had a pleasant smile on her lips as she watched him, until she looked up, spotting Sheik.

“Are you going to sit down, or are you going to keep watching us like a creep?” She asked, and Sheik straightened.

“A-apologies… I didn’t mean to stare.”

“Don’t worry about it, yeah?” Ashei glanced at Shad, then back at her. “I wanted to stay up to wait for you. I knew you’d get here eventually. He was intent on staying up with me, but I guess he couldn’t do it.”

Sheik smiled despite Ashei not being able to see it. “I’m sorry I came so late.”

“You’re fine, but what happened? Why did it take so long for you to get here?”

“I…” Sheik didn’t want to talk about her fainting today, nor about her lack of sleep, food, and water. “I’ve just been very busy.”

Ashei studied her for a moment. “Are you alright?”

Sheik looked up at her, and simply shook her head. “I’ve been very busy,” she repeated.

“Labryn… Zel—Sheik, you can leave this to the rest of us. You don’t have to help us every second, yeah?”

“I know, but I’m tired of sitting here not knowing what’s going on. Not actively trying to better my kingdom.”

Ashei shook her head. “You can’t do everything by yourself. That’s why the resistance is here, to help Hyrule.”

“I know… I know… I just…” Sheik sighed. Goddesses she was exhausted. The two grew silent until Telma came in with a bowl.

“I could only make some broth, I hope that’s ok, sweet pea.”

Sheik felt herself beginning to drool and she gratefully took the bowl. “This is wonderful, thank you, Telma,” she said. Telma gave her a soft smile.

“Of course honey! That’s why I’m here, to take care of my friends.”

The word “friends” stuck with Sheik, and she looked down at the bowl, her emotions running rampant once again, though her eyes were finally too dry to cry again.

“Now, if you two will excuse me, I’m going to head to bed myself.” Telma turned to Ashei with a teasing smile. “Unless you need me to carry him to bed of course.”

Ashei gave her an annoyed smirk. “I can do that myself. Thank you though.”

The barmaid gave a hearty laugh. “Alright, good night you too. And Sheik? I have some water on the table for you. Take care.”

Sheik glanced at the cup on the table, her thirst becoming unbearable.

“Thank you,” she said again, and Telma turned away, leaving the two women alone. Sheik glanced around, eyeing Shad cautiously, and Ashei caught on.

“Don’t worry, he’s out like a light.”

“But what if he wakes up and sees me without my mask?”

“Then I’ll knock him back out, yeah?”

Sheik chuckled softly and pulled her mask down. Though it wasn’t filling, the broth was amazing, and the water made her feel much better than before. She sighed as she drank the broth, feeling relief run through her body as she finally got nutrients in her body. She glanced at Ashei who watched her worriedly, and she looked down.

“How was Hoz?” Sheik asked.

“Oh, he was fine. Quite determined to find the missing people. He’s a good man.”

Sheik smiled slightly. “Indeed, he is. What did Link and Rusl need?”

Ashei’s breath hitched. “They found what’s been causing these disappearances.”

Sheik gasped and nearly dropped her bowl. Though it was exactly what she had hoped for, she was still surprised that it actually happened. “What is it? What’s causing it?”

“Link thinks it’s a shadow beast.”

Dread instantly filled Sheik’s body. Memories of the beasts breaking through her castle and slaughtering the guards came in at once, and she clenched her fists. How…?

“We hope to make a plan to hunt and kill it, but according to Link, it’s gotten powerful over the past ten years, and it won’t die so easily.”

Sheik swallowed hard and nodded. “I see… any… any news on the people?”

Ashei shook her head sadly. “No, they only mentioned the beast I’m afraid.”

Sheik slumped slightly. If it was a shadow beast taking these people then… they probably weren’t alive anymore. She remembered watching Zant turn her guards into shadow beasts before her eyes, even those who weren’t personally cursed turned when beside them. Even her own parents turned into creatures of darkness…

Were the people dead? Or had they turned into shadow beasts, doomed to be mindless monsters until they’re put out of their misery? Sheik didn’t know. But if that were the case, wouldn’t they have known about the resurgence of shadow beasts? Either way, Sheik was having a hard time being hopeful about the fate of the missing people.

“We’re going to be doing a lot of planning tomorrow,” Ashei continued, “I don’t know when we’ll head out, but if you’re wanting to come with us, I suggest you get some rest, yeah?”

Sheik looked up at Ashei who had a firm expression on her face. Sheik had grown tired of everyone telling her to rest, but with the food and water in her system, she couldn’t fight back the sleepiness.

“Alright,” she mumbled before standing up, staring at her empty bowl confused.

“I can take care of that,” Ashei said, and Sheik set it down awkwardly. “We can talk more tomorrow, yeah?”

Sheik nodded and dragged herself up the stairs where several rooms were hidden. Her eyes were barely open as she tried to find a room to go in. She typically took the first room, so she opened the door and threw her head cover and mask off, closing the door behind her which left the room in total darkness. She stumbled over to the bed closest to her and fell asleep before her head could even hit the pillow.

#smiles writes #love at twilight #I miss Kori :(#dw he’ll be here probably in the next chapter #twilight princess #gosh I LOVE the resistance #they’re so fun #oh Zelda …#how much I love exploring your character that I made up #I should really put a summary so that people will see this and know what my fic is about #but I guess they could go to AO3 to see the summary #hm #hope you guys like it!!#Edmund is going to therapy #/hj #now it’s Zelda’s turn that poor woman #and poor Amber #AGH I poor everyone

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eldritch-spouse · 2 years

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I have pretty bad nightmares so now I'm imagining one night I'm too paranoid to be alone after a dream so I ask my lovely roommate breg to stay with me for the rest of the night

breg being breg accepts what great enthusiasm, tail wagging at a million miles per hour

poor ole breg however cannot see into the future and didn't know i would fall asleep & have a wet dream right in front of him

it wouldn't hurt to help relieve me right? and he's definitely not going to get another chance like this again might as well

(I was going to talk about something else but the horny took over sorry)

["My lovely roommate Breg"... I am cackling. 💀 Also, fem reader for this one.]

TW: Non-consensual sleep sex.

Of course Breg accepted to sleep next to you!

His poor mate having nightmares all by themselves, how could Breg ever refuse to be there for you?

He will insist on snuggling you to sleep, and if you question the breeder about it, he'll start spouting lies about how it'll make you feel safer to have contact, how he can just wake you up gently if you start having nightmares again. Come on, you don't have to be embarrassed about it, Breg knows what it's like! No one enjoys waking up in a fit of crying or screaming, he'll be there to make sure it doesn't get that far, he'll be there to keep the bad dreams away.

You can trust him.

Breg is already monumentally excited to share a bed with you, without having to be extremely silent and still in order to not be noticed- Now imagine his delight to have you willingly fall asleep in the breeder's arms, snuggling into him, with your adorable little mane, and your cute nose, making those sweet incoherent murmurs- Oh! Your breathing is picking up, what's that odd look on your pretty face? Breg grabs your chin softly, getting to hear the small, frantic little whimpers you're making.

Ah, you poor poor human. He wonders what's making you have these nightly terrors. You don't deserve any of them, you're such a sweet, exquisite person, who's stressing you out to make you lose good sleep like this? Who is giving you a hard time? Who's scaring you? Because Breg will have none of it! His mate deserves their wonderful full night's rest and whoever dares interfere will pay. Just look at the state of you, flushed like a cherry, sweating, eyebrows creased, curling in on yourself, legs shaking, mouth parted in an "o" of-

Wait a minute- What's that scent-

Oh.

OH.

Well then. Some very pleasant nightmare this must be, if the rather pungent smell of your """fear""" has anything to say about it.

Now, the correct thing to do here would be to wake you up, pray you don't remember anything about your dream and that you still feel comfortable enough to have Breg sleep next to you. Right. Oooorrrrr- Breg could just... Enjoy the show. You do look adorable like this, needy and whining softly, legs clenching together. Such a view. The breeder very softly nudges your blanket off, head leaning to get a better view.

What is it that you're deaming of? What's erotic enough to put you in this state? Who's doing this to you? Is it him? Fuck please, Breg hopes you're dreaming of him, he wishes he was in your dreams stuffing his fat tongue so far up your little cunt that you'd be singing his name. Just say it's him that makes you twist and turn at night, that he's the one keeping you stuffed and happy- You dream of him, right? Just like Breg pants about you in his own. He can't count the nights he's woken up stiff and drooling, haunted by flashes of you bouncing on him, on your knees, bent in two for him- This is just like it!

You really must dream of him. And Breg doesn't want you to suffer in silence like he does, you clearly need help.

Humming quietly, the breeder scoots ever so close to your lightly squirming form, alert and cautious, though easily distracted by the smell of your hair up close. That nice fruity shampoo you use. Though, maybe in the future he'll recommend you stop using products with such intense fragrances, because he would much rather smell you- Your natural scent. It's irreplaceable, the most appealing of them all, much better than this odd citrus-y mask.

You start panting.

Ah yes, where was he?

Breg can't help himself, he would rather take things slow and touch every part of your delicate frame before moving to the crux of your situation, but he's already gotten ahead of himself with his prior fantasies, both cocks squeezing out his slit impatiently and wits burned to a crisp. Besides, if the monster wastes too much time lollygagging, you might actually wake up at some point. So the breeder bites his lip, sucking in an excited breath while he lets his hand drift to the front of your shorts. Down. Down further, shifting position to cup your precious pussy, applying the slightest pressure- Oh fuck yes, you're already wet, bucking onto his soft rubbing motions, giving the absolute pervert the best show of his life. You're so pent up! Hell, you're trying to close your legs around him! Could you cum like this? On his hand? In your shorts? Adorable!

Oh but that would be ruining things too soon. No can do. Not at all.

Breg looks down at his own deplorable state and groans. He's tired of this. He's tired of only ever getting to palm at you, of only ever getting the chance to stuff his face in your panties or jerk off over you while you sleep. He needs more. He can't take it, his patience has limits and he behaves so well when you're awake! Breg needs a reward, a little treat for trying so hard not to lose himself.

He's off the bed in a blink. Not to leave, mind you. He's not that considerate, much as Breg loves to think he's the exemplary mate. No, he's grinning like a greedy madman while his claws flirt with the hem of your loose shorts. It takes the patience of a saint, a trial of self-control, but the breeder is more than determined enough to painfully glide the cloth down, giving himself a show unintentionally. They're tossed aside carelessly. Oh, you're using those nice blue panties he likes! The one with stripes. So very cute. He's played with those before. They're taken off too, ever so slowly, Breg forcing himself to stop whenever you shift too much or make a disgruntled noise. Yes yes, sweet needy thing, he's here- Wait just a teensy second, will you?

The moment your lower half is bare, Breg can already feel strands of his own drool caking his chin, parting smooth legs ever so carefully to see your core flushed and wet for him. Maybe he should take a picture... No, why waste time? It's too risky, he's doing this now. Breg takes one last look at your uncomfortable, flustered expression and dips to take a greedy lick from bottom to clit- Moaning low and hard. God fuck, it's like a cocaine rush.

If Breg started asking to eat you out, just eat you out, would you let him? He wants his tongue glued to your cunt forever. The breeder's hands work clumsily over both cocks as he drowns in fantasies of you pulling him to his knees to service you while you're performing menial tasks.

Every single time your hips buck against his slow licks, Breg rewards the effort by whispering praise against your flesh and circling your button harder, hoping to hear more of those melodic, pleading cries. You're so expressive, even in your sleep. Would you beg him if you were awake? Would you pull his face down to grind your slick pussy all over it? Mark him, mark your mate, make him yours-

Oh ffffuck, moan again moan again!

Breg slurps his roving muscle back up so fast he nearly whacks himself in the head with it. This is not enough anymore. He wants... He wants so badly to be inside of you. That's the treat, that's his treat. Just a tiny bit, just for a second, only one minute of bliss inside your perfect pulsing walls! You'll understand, won't you? Of course you will, he's been so good, so well-behaved...

The pale monster pants shakily while he shifts pose, crawling atop you on the bed, sliding between your perfect doughy legs and letting his heavy cocks sit on your mound. Tiny thing. You're such a tiny creature. But you'll take him. Oh, you certainly will. He knows you can. Probably.

Time to find out.

Breg presses the very tip of his member to your saliva-slicked hole, whimpering in the back of his throat at the resistance he meets. You're gonna be so tight, you're gonna hug him so good, you're so hot and so perfect and-

Hhhngh holy shit-!

The breeder sees stars when his cock finally breaches your opening, and even if only a minute part of him is in, you're already gripping him like a vise with your heavenly hole. You must really be an angel! Breg makes an incredulous, panting laugh, rocking back and forth pitifully, wanting so much more, observing the way your skin stretches to welcome him further.

He could cum like this, barely sheathed inside his mate, second cock twitching and leaking, relieving his needy partner while they sleep. Breg grabs your legs in a stupor of arousal, ready to shove more of his fat member inside you when-

" ... Hu- B-BREG?! " Oh God. " WHAT THE FUCK? "

Every muscle in his body freezes. He let his arousal take over.

He's in such deep shit.

" H-Hi, honey...? "

#Bregory #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #tw noncon #terato #yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #minors dni

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bunny-yan · 10 months

Note

Can i ask a part 2 for yandere incubus?

TW: some minor language, mentions of intimate relations, no minors please —

You wanted to curse when you opened your eyes and the familiar inky black floor appeared to swallow your feet.

You’d fallen asleep at work. You knew you were at work because the last thing you remembered was going to the storage closet to put away some of the extra boxes that had been delivered and the next moment you were standing in this void.

It didn’t matter what time it was or where you were, the minute you went into an unconscious state you found yourself standing in this ominous alternate dimension.

You didn’t know why you were prone to falling asleep. It couldn’t be that you were tired. After spending time with the demon that continued to grate on your nerves, you’d wake up feeling more refreshed and light than you had ever felt in your life, not that you would thank him for it. You knew he would hold it over your head if you admitted it and there was a good chance he was already aware considering he plagued your mind with random chatter even when you were awake. You didn’t know how deep the connection ran, but you weren’t going to ask questions that could give him the upper hand. It would make him impossible to deal with.

You sighed, knowing better than to expect a peaceful encounter if you followed the little glowing, seemingly harmless creatures bouncing beneath the ground’s inky black surface. They were leading you to the master of this domain and yet you preferred his company to the nightmarish monsters that haunted you before.

You couldn’t imagine anyone that preferred being tortured endlessly.

It was a short walk.

A walk you wished had lasted longer because any hope at a civil, reasonable conversation evaporated into thin air when you saw Amrbose flitting around a kitchen with nothing but a pink frilly apron on. It was surreal enough, the stand-alone kitchen surrounded by a black void, but the sight of him, the sound of him humming took the cake.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you called out to him.

“Ambrose?”

The perky demon swiveled as if he hadn’t noticed you passing through the barrier, a shit-eating grin spreading across his cheeks as his eyes narrowed on your form.

“Oh, welcome back darling!” He approached with outstretched arms, crushing you in an embrace before planting a loud kiss on your mouth. “How was work today?”

You glared at him.

“I’m still at work.”

He laughed, releasing you before going back to the kitchen. He seemed to have no problem with his naked body almost being on full display, the cute bow in the back failing to cover anything of importance.

“I’m just getting dinner ready darling, it should be done in a minute. Would you like dinner? Or I could run you a bath? Or would you like-”

“Ambrose, can you please just send me back? I didn’t mean to fall asleep and I really don’t feel like dealing with you right now.”

He gasped, slamming the ladle down before picking up one of the glowing creatures and holding it close to his body.

“How could you say that? And in front of Junior!” His arms tightened and you felt panic when the golden creature began to look like a water balloon, primed to pop.

You rushed over, taking it from his arms. It was strange. It didn’t feel like you were holding anything at all. A golden feeler brushed against your cheek spreading warmth before the creature melted through your hands and fell through the ground’s surface.

Was it… alright? Did he kill it? A part of you knew your assumption was wrong, but you couldn’t stop the sinking feeling that something was wrong.

“You really are one fearless human.” Ambrose said, dropping the act momentarily to press a hand against your chest. You felt the chaotic swirl of emotions begin to disperse and the tension in your body rushed out of you like a flood. Your knees buckled, but his arm caught you around the waist to hold you upright. “You should be more careful dealing with things you have no knowledge of.”

“What was that?” you asked, feeling a slight headache and a splash of nausea.

“You’re lucky it wasn’t hostile. It would’ve consumed your soul and taken your place and I’m not interested in dealing with that again. Such an inconvenience.”

Your mouth dropped open as you looked up at him. That harmless looking creature could’ve consumed your soul? But it looked so, so harmless! You couldn’t sense any animosity in its glowing white eyes and the warmth felt strangely like a thank you rather than it searching for its next meal.

Wait… again?

“Is that an invitation, darling?” he asked, brushing a claw against your bottom lip.

You snapped your mouth shut, glaring at him as you pushed away from his grip. “I am not doing this right now! Send me back. If my boss catches me sleeping, I’m going to get fired.”

He pouted, leaning on the counter before drawing aimless shapes with his finger.

“Leaving so soon? Are you sure I couldn’t interest you in something?”

You slapped a hand over your nose and mouth right as he looked at you, his eyes shifted the pupil spreading to overwhelm the whites of his eyes. A hint of his true form, his pheromones seeped through and attacked you.

Ambrose had done this before. Your senses would flood in his scent and you would say and do things that you had never intended to. You weren’t going to be swept up in his pace. Not today. Not with your job on the line.

Backing away, you flipped him off. The closer you were, the more potent his pheromones.

“I’m trying!”

You rolled your eyes. He wouldn’t take you seriously. He was used to getting his way.

“Send me back!” Your voice was muffled behind your hand, taking away some of the strength behind your words, but it was better to be safe than a writhing mess who couldn’t remember your own name.

He frowned, eyebrows pinching together.

“No.” he said, crossing his arms.

“Ambrose, please.”

“I work, break my back, and slave away over this stove without so much as a thank you.”

Oh, god.

“You don’t greet me, show me any ounce of affection, or even try to show an interest in the meal I spent weeks preparing! I understand that your job is tough, but you need to leave your problems at the barrier. I don’t deserve to be treated like this!”

Best acting award goes to…

“I deserve sex! When and where I want it! I don’t want to be rushed into doing a satisfactory job. I want to take my time, build you to the brink, and crush your hopes and dreams before building you up all over again. On every surface I can think of. I want you to be unsure of what position you like the most so we can revisit each and every one before you come to the conclusion that all positions are your favorite when I’m taking point. I want to push your body to its limits and break them so we can do things you’ve never even had the courage to dream about.You won’t be worried about waking up or about some job. You’ll think of me and only me and give me the respect I deserve.”

You waited to see if there would be more, uncovering your face when he seemed content.

“Are you finished?”

He sniffed. “I could go on, but I find I’m more of a hands-on teacher.”

“If I eat, will you please send me back so I don’t get fired.”

He smiled, a smile that looked more like a smug sneer, but assented to your request.

You walked over to the makeshift kitchen, eyes drifting to the silent teapot that had been steaming since you’d gotten here. For the aesthetic, you supposed.

You peered into the large pot, frozen. Arms wrapped around you, but you couldn’t take you eyes away from the pink substance that was bubbling near the top.

“Are you insane?”

“It took me weeks to get this ready for you.” he said, sounding proud.

“I’m not eating this.”

“It isn’t becoming to go back on your word.”

“I’ll die.”

“Only temporarily.” he explained as if it made it any better.

During one of the happenstances that you weren’t too proud to remember, Ambrose had fed a drop of the substance to you and your body felt as if it had been lit on fire. Your body was blazing with heat and desire, something he enjoyed, but left you exhausted and in an otherworldly pain by the end of it.

“You were complaining about being tired all the time and I thought this would improve your stamina.”

“For how long?” the rhetoric question spilled out of your mouth. You panicked even thinking about how your body would feel if you attempted to consume a larger dose.

“Oh,” he said, voice lowering as he said in your ear, “We could go for months.”

You shook your head. He was insane.

Unfortunately for you, time didn’t move any differently in this dimension. Ambrose could alter time to slow down or stop altogether, but he complained that it took a portion of his focus that he’d rather use on other things.

“You’re insane and you can go fuck yourself if I lose my job and continue to do so until I find another one.”

“So as long as you don’t lose your job, I’m free to do what I’d like?”

He was a master at hearing only what he wanted to.

“Fine.” you said, knowing there was no point in arguing with the demon. It would only exhaust you and he always got his way. The sooner he was satiated, the sooner you could go back to being bored out of your mind. It made you wonder why you complained as much as you did, but something about his pompous personality rubbed you the wrong way. “Just make it quick.”

He grinned. “You know I won’t.”

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #ask #yandere x reader #yandere male #gn reader #yan!ambrose #yandere incubus

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evsstolenhearts · 4 months

Note

hey ev!! I originally accidently sent this rq to the wrong person lol 😅

I wanted to ask if you could write tasm!Peter with a gn!r who has a nightmare? I keep having them so I thought it would be a cute idea

Thank you 🥰

Summary: you have a nightmare

Tasm!Peter parker x gn!reader | 475 words | no y/n

Warnings: mentions of fear

A/n: I'm sorry this is a bit short!

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆

Your eyes shoot open to a dark room. Laying in bed, facing the wall, as your breathing starts to even out and your heart continues to beat rapidly in your chest. For a few minutes, all you do is continue to lay there, staring, unmoving at nothing. The fear that clouded your dreams softens around the edges a bit, slow dissipating. But not leaving fast enough.

Eventually you begin to sit up, blanket falling off your body and onto your lap. Next to you, Peter is sound asleep, having gotten back from patrol some time while you slept. A new, small cut adorning his cheek, and his messy hair sprawled out on the pillow. While admiring Peter, he starts to stir, feeling you watching him.

The realization you woke up Peter sets in as he peaks open his eyes to look at you. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." Your voice is soft, not disturbing the silence of the night.

"Why are you up?" His voice is rough from sleep as he glances at the clock, reading '4:57am'.

If it was anyone else asking, the option to lie would look like the most beautiful thing in the world. But sadly, you know Peter would direct a lie. "Just a small nightmare, it's nothing." Despite it truly being nothing, just a figment of imagination. An improbable, and likely impossible thing, it feels like much more than nothing. It feels like your real heart was ripped out and sown back in while you slept.

Peter moves back his side of the blanket a bit, revealing his college t-shirt, and sweats that are hung lower due to shifting while he slept. He opens his arms, silently asking you to lay back down. This request, you comply. Arms joining around his waist and back, head resting near his shoulder and neck, smooshed into the pillow, and he wraps his arms around you. Bringing back the blanket in order to hide you from the world and all the horrors that wished to haunt you.

You can feel Peter's chest rise and fall, and hear his heart beat. Barely audible from where you lay.

"You don't have to baby me, ya know." Your voice is muffled due to being squished into him.

"'M not babying you." His fingers start to slowly trace shapes on your back.

"You are though. It was just a dream. I'm fine."

"Then consider this as somthing I want. We can say I just wanted to feel you in my arms after patrol." His tone, despite soft and affectionate, leaves no room for argument.

And with that, you start to relax once more. Safe in the arms of the city's hero, shielded and protected. Slowly beginning to doze off, you feel Peter press a light kiss onto the top of your head, before he too falls back to sleep.

#tasm peter imagines #tasm peter parker #tasm spiderman #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter x you #tasm peter comfort #tasm peter parker comfort #tasm!peter parker #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm peter parker oneshot #tasm!peter fluff #tasm peter scenario #tasm peter parker one shot #tasm!peter one shot

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brighteyedbushybrowed · 8 months

Note

okay I’m hoping this makes sense, the papa witht a s/o that is scared of sleeping, like sleeping makes them super anxious and it’s hard for them to sleep comfortably

It makes sense anon, dw!! I've been in that position before, so I will somewhat be writing from my own experience for these headcanons <3

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐨

Primo gets this completely, and he's incredibly patient and kind

He makes you cups of herbal team to help calm your nerves

Will stay awake with you until you doze off

Stays by your side the whole time so that he's there for you if you wake up in a panic

He'll reassure you and try to help you rationalise anything that's playing on your mind and making you feel anxious

Primo also has a supply of the most comfortable pillows and blankets he keeps in a cupboard for whenever you wish to stay over in his room

If he's particularly worried about you and your lack of sleep, he'll suggest going to the doctor's or a therapist with you to help with your anxiety around sleep

Always has fresh lavender in his room as he knows it can be a very relaxing, calming scent that helps people sleep easier

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨

Also a tea man

As someone who could sleep through a hurricane, Secondo perhaps doesn't understand as much as Primo does

Don't get me wrong, he does understand. Just not to the extent that Primo does because of how heavy he sleeps and having never had difficulty sleeping at night

He does, of course, support you through it and has learned various grounding techniques for when your anxiety starts to spike at bedtime

He keeps a dossette box of sleeping pills in his en suite bathroom for nights where other methods of getting you to sleep don't work, but he only uses these as a last resort when literally nothing else works

Secondo will also stay awake with you until you drift off. He makes sure that he holds you the whole time, even if it results in him sleeping in waht others would consider uncomfortable positions such as sitting up against a headboard

While Primo is a lavender guy, Secondo is a scented candle guy

He gets a shit ton of scented candles of your favourite scents and will light them while you both do your bedtime routine so that you have a calming scent to focus on

𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐳𝐨

Terzo is the first person to tell you that you need to talk about your anxiety with a professional

He'll get you in touch with one of the therapists from the Ministry, he'll even pay for you to go to the best therapist in town if you'd prefer not to talk to someone who works in the abbey

He's going to be there with you all the way

He'll help you rationalise your anxious thoughts and worries surrounding going to sleep and even encourages you to keep a sleep diary

He might also encourage you to try and sleep by downloading Pokemon Sleep onto your phones so that it's like you're getting rewarded for sleeping

He's all cuddles and cooing and soothing words if you get upset at the prospect of sleeping

He's going to stay awake as long as possible even after you fall asleep in case you wake up in the night and need him to comfort you

He'll position you so that you're laying on top of him when you sleep, his arms wrapped around you protectively as he softly sings lullabies and songs to remind you that he's there, he's not going anywhere, and he loves you deeply

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐚

You and Copia are kindred spirits in these regards

He's no stranger to fitful nights of tossing and turning, being too scared to fall asleep in case the nightmares return and haunt him once again

Talking you through your own anxiety around sleep is what makes him realise that he needs help too and that he can't be giving you all of this advice if he doesn't take it himself

Will attend therapy with you

Talks about his own experiences and anxiety and fears so that you don't feel like you're going through this on your own

On those nights where neither of you can sleep, he invites Aether for a sleepover so that he can use his quintessence powers to give you both a dreamless sleep for the night

Copia probably has a giant tub full of various herbal teas Primo has given him to help with sleep that he's never used until you came along

You both often have nighttime video game marathons on the nights where you can't sleep and don't want to bother Ather. You both end up waking the next morning with the game over screen flashing at you, game controllers abandoned on the blankets, and your bodies intertwined

#primo #papa emeritus i #secondo #papa emeritus ii #terzo #papa emeritus iii #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #primo x reader #papa emeritus i x reader #secondo x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #the band ghost #headcanons #headcanon requests

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wosowrites · 1 year

Text

Sleeper (Man United x Reader)

warnings: ⚠️talk of trauma, sexu@l @ssault⚠️

a/n: if you are uncomfortable with the topic of sexu@l @ssault, skip the first paragraph. based off this request here

prompt: in which the reader has trouble sleeping at night, so she sleeps everywhere else. her team finds it adorable and are always filming and adding pictures of her to their stories.

It was known to the United girls that you didn’t sleep at night, or at least, not well. With the night, came demons of your past. With the darkness of the setting sun, came the faces of your mothers boyfriends, committing monstrosities on you. They knew about your childhood, you had told them about it after a year with the team, explaining to them the reason of your constant sleepiness.

However, your lack of sleep never seemed to affect your game. You would get a ride to training from Alessia or Ona in the morning, sleep in the car, sleep in the changing room, and then run around and score goals like a max woman during practice. And then the second it was over, you would fall asleep on the side of the pitch. Then you would go to the house of one of the girls to get sleep in an actual bed, before going to your own house and pulling yet another all nighter.

In complete honesty, your teammates were heartbroken that you couldn’t sleep at night, but they did find the fact that you felt comfortable to sleep around them. Or more like… you only felt comfortable to sleep around them. One thing you had never done though, despite the amount of times you had fallen asleep in their presence, was fall asleep on them. You felt as though that was the limit, no sleeping on teammates. It wasn’t just that either, you had never been good with touch. There were maybe two people in the whole world that you still talked too today that you had hugged. Your childhood best friend and your sister. You didn’t talk to your mother. She had known about the men, she had done nothing.

You were 20, one of the youngest on the team, and today marked 4 years since you had talked to your mother. Having gone pro at 16, starting off at Wolfsburg in your home country, you had decided to cut all ties to your mum. It was for the best. But it did hurt you, it did haunt your mind, and it most definitely made it that on that night, you were even more awake than usual.

When Ona picked you up the morning of that day, she expected you to sleep as usual, but you just stared forward.

"Que pasa? What’s wrong mi amor?" Ona asked, looking over at you fleetingly. She had always been welcoming, taking you under her wing immediately. "Mhm. I’m okay. Not tired," you lied, focusing on the trees in the horizon. "I see through you, you know. I know when you lie to me," she said, a little bluntly.

Her words took you off guard, making you look at her with raised eyebrows. "You do now?" you said, smiling. "Yes! I do! Now what is it? We have a game later today. It’s Arsenal. You need to be on your best. You need sleep," Ona said, pulling into the training center where a team bus was stationed. "It’s been four years since I’ve talked to my mother. It hurts… knowing that. I dont know," you said, trying to brush off the topic as you exited the car.

You looked at Ona over the roof of her small vehicle, smiling at her sadly. You walked around the car to be beside her, and she linked her pinky with yours. Her way to say she was there for you, without too much contact.

You smiled at your hands sadly, wishing you could just hug her.

In the bus, you sat beside Mary, as always. She was like a mother to you. Fatigue was overcoming you, and you wanted nothing more but to sleep, although you felt as though today… maybe past demons would come haunt your night, even if you were surrounded by the people you loved most. Waking up yelling and crying would not be the way to go.

But despite how strong, resilient and hard headed you were, you could not will sleep away, and eventually, it got the better of you. You had only closed your eyes for a split second, and then out of nowhere, you were out.

"It’s good she’s asleep, she didn’t sleep in the car today," Ona said to Mary. They were both sitting in the aisle seats, Ona beside Lucia. "She didn’t sleep in the car? She always sleeps in the car," Mary said, glancing over at your lolling head that had gently hit against the window. "Did I hear you say she didn’t sleep in the car?" Alessia said from behind Ona, poking her head between Mary and Ona and taking off her headphones. "She didn’t sleep in the car?!" Ella said rather loudly, jumping up and looking over at you from beside Lessi. "Ella!" Alessia scowled, telling off her best friend. "Sorry," she whispered.

They all watched you, some of the other girls looking towards the kurfuffle from their teammates that were in the back of the bus. Their eyes on you, it was impossible to miss your next action. You gently breathed in and then exhaled, fidgeting in your seat in a drowsy manner until gently letting your head fall onto Mary’s shoulder.

Mary’s eyes widened and she slowly looked back to the girls, not wanting to disturb you. "Oh my god," she whispered.

Everyone was freaking out silently, excited you now felt complete comfortable with at least one of them. "Take a video! Take a video!" Alessia said, even though she was the only one holding her phone. "You take a video! My phone is in my bag!" Ona whisper yelled. "Right!

Alessia quickly opened the camera app and got out of her seat to film and take a couple pictures.

"She’s such a baby, look at her all peaceful," Lucia chipped in. "Okay, let’s let her rest in peace, we need her for the game today. Our little energizer bunny," Mark said, having come over to see what everyone was freaking out about.

They all nodded but Mark kept looking at you for a split second. "Huh. Well that’s new, isn’t it?" he said, smiling gently and walking off.

You didn’t move away from Mary the whole ride to London, only closer. The game was at 6:00, and the team would arrive at the stadium at 4:30. It was 3:30 when you woke up. Your head was still on the english keeper’s shoulder, but your body was pressed completely against her. Needless to say that you had been enjoying the unfamiliar presence of another humans body. Not in a weird way, just in a comforting way.

Your eyes fluttered open gently. It took you a couple seconds to ground yourself. You realized you were leaning on something, or more like, someone. And that the someone was holding her phone and scrolling on tik tok. And that the someone was Mary. Your head jolted off her shoulder, eyes wide and body tense. What were you supposed to say? Apologize? Ignore it?

"Im sorry- I didn’t sleep in the car and I-" you started stuttering. "No! Hey! It’s okay! It’s good. It’s really good," Mary said gently, tucking a strand of your loose hair behind your ear and smiling at you gently. "Yeah?" you said, your heart stopping its race. "Yes. Most definitely," she said.

"Okay," you said, smiling gently. You laid your back on the chair again as Mary looked back at her phone. You looked forward to the back of the other chair, and slowly, gently, rested your head on Mary’s shoulder again. You couldn’t see her face, but she was smiling wildly.

The media manager filmed you and the united girls as you walked out of the bus. You fist bumped the camera as always and then kept walking.

You made your way into the away locker room and went to your cubby between Ona and Aoife, as María was injured.

"Okay girls. Change into your kit and warmup jersey and then we’ll go over the game plan and starting lineup before heading out for warmup on the field," Mark said.

The girls nodded and Mark walked out to let you all change.

Another thing that had been hard for you was changing. You didn’t have visible scars, but the emotional ones were there. But with knowing the girls, it ended up coming easily. The first time you changed without hesitation, the girls noticed. They noticed silently, and didn’t ever say anything about it, but you knew they were proud of you.

You put on your warmup long sleeve and shorts, then your socks and cleats and you taped your wrist to cover up two bracelets you refused to take off.

Then, Mark came back in when everyone was decent, armed with a white board.

"Okay ladies. Our game plan today is simple. Possession. We will win by keeping the ball, and taking strategic shots. I don’t want to see any wild balls from the half, okay. Pass through their defence, and then shoot. That’s the only thing we can do to beat a team like Arsenal, you hear me?" Skinner said as all the girls nodded. "Okay. Starting lineup. Mearps, Ona, Hannah, Tooney, Katie, Leah, y/n, Maya, Lucia, Millie, Alessia. Let’s go girls. We win, we’re on top of the table instead of third."

You all cheered and then walked out onto the field. Fans were already in the stadium, a sea of red. But Arsenal red, not United red. You saw a few away fans in the corner, holding up a huge United flag, and you nodded at them and waved.

Warmup seemed to go by in a hurry, and soon enough, you had taken the team picture and gotten ready for kickoff.

The game did not go smoothly. Arsenal won 3-1, everyone was super annoyed, but somehow, Mark wasn’t. "You played the way I told you too. You passed through their defence, and thought strategically, but Arsenal is good. Really good. We’re still in this race. Let’s go home, sleep on the bus, just take a minute.

Everyone climbed onto the bus in annoyed silence. Mary was pissed, and although she didn’t say anything, you knew she wanted to be alone. So you took a seat in a free spot by yourself. Or at least, you thought it would be just you. "Lucia kicked me out, wanted all the room to sleep," Ona said, looking at you with her puppy dog eyes. "C’mere then, i’ll show Lucia what she’s missing," you joked, moving your bag and getting out of the area to let Ona have the window seat. She loved the window seat.

"You know me too well," she said, sitting at the window seat. You sat back down next to her. "Good goal, by the way," Ona said to you. "Thanks. Wish I could have gotten more," you said, licking your lips. "No, don’t do that. Don’t put that on yourself," Ona said. "Because you would let me say that I could have defended better and you wouldn’t let Mary say she could have saved those shots," Ona told you, trying to get you too look at her.

You eventually made eye contact with her. "Come here," Ona said.

She didn’t really think, the fact that you didn’t like touch slipping her mind. She patted her lap, realizing her mistake a few seconds later. But by then, you were already shifting your position so that your head and shoulders rested on her lap. You bent your knees and rested your hand on Ona’s lap. She was taken aback for a second before gently placing her coat on you as a blanket. It smelt like you.

Ona took a picture of you, posting it to her story and then adding it to an album she had. In it, dozens of videos and pictures of you sleeping in odd places. In the trunk of a car, on the side of the pitch, in the stands at a men’s united football game, in the alley of a parked coach bus. She found it hilarious, all your United girls did.

#woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #man united #man united women’s #ona battle #alessia russo #mary earps #arsenal fcw

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nyashykyunnie · 1 year

Note

Glad that you're backkk, long live Jinwoo stan🫶💚💚💚

Can I request Jinwoo x reader?

They're childhood friend, already love each other but never confess, the reader can being citizen or hunter. Someday, the reader being drunk and Jinwoo get called to pick up her, by their way to back home reader accidentally confess, she said she loves her friend. Jinwoo panic and ask who. She said it's Jinwoo, you should know him, the s-rank hunter.

She said she never confess because she think her feeling just a one sided love, and she think Jinwoo deserve a relationship with someone that more than her, like Cha Hae In. She is strong, beautiful, smart, reader keep talking and fall asleep after said she still love him and hope can let her feeling someday so she can fully happy when Jinwoo with someone else

Sorry this is really long, hope you can understand what I try to tell you because English is not my first language. Love you so much and take your timeee💚🫂✨

a/n: I actually like the plot of this omie asjna aaaa so cuteee<33 ALSO ITS OKKK, YOUR ENGLISH IS FINEE WWW

Sung Jinwoo x Drunk Fem!Reader

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

﹢　˖ 　✦ ¸ .　﹢　 ° 　¸. ° ˖ ･ ·̩　　｡　☆. 　﹢　˖ 　✦ ¸ .

"And who...Exactly is this friend?" Jinwoo's smile twitched stiffly as he helps her up to her feet. Perhaps he felt a little jealous.

Just a little...

"You knoowwwww, that stupidly handsome and strong hunter Sung Jinwoooo"

Gee, thanks for the complement but was the "Stupidly" part necessary?

Okay, kidding.

Jinwoo's face went :0?....

His braincells as the shadow monarch and a player just boiled off the face of the earth.

One part of Jinwoo is trying to process what she just said while the other side of him was gleeful that he wasn't in a one-side relationship.

"But you know..." Her drunk body limps down and Jinwoo gently picked her up off of the ground. "I can never tell him what I feel."

"Why not?" Jinwoo asks, as if he wasn't the topic.

"I don't think he likes me...I think I'm just a second sister to him...And plus..." Her voice fades into a sad tone. "Someone like Miss Cha Hae-in deserves him... She's pretty, she's smart she's super strong...She's everything a woman could ever want to be. Jinwoo... Jinwoo deserves someone like that."

Those feelings of inferiority finally slipped of her lips.

The aching emotions she bottled up inside her.

The thoughts that haunted her every night and in every single second she saw Jinwoo and Hae-in enjoying eachother's company.

It finally slipped out.

"All I can do is support him... I'm not half or even a pinch of what miss Hae-in is...So." She smiles bitterly. "I can only wish on every star they get together. I'll be fine with it...It'll hurt but atleast I can see Jinwoo happy the way I can't make him smile... That's all that matters."

She said as she drifted off to sleep

"..."

It'd be a lie if Jinwoo said he isn't hurt from those words.

'How could you say that? You're perfect. All of you and all your little flaws.'

His heart churned, his frown deep and pained.

"You know what I think?" Jinwoo smiles tenderly at the sleeping girl "I think Jinwoo doesn't care about that. In his eyes, you're more than enough. Even if you aren't a hunter, you..."

"Just Being You is Enough."

Oh how she's gonna wake up with the sight of Jinwoo staring at her with such lovestrucken eyes as he handed her some medications to aid her headache from getting drunk last night.

"Say... Now that you're awake" Jinwoo smiles at her. "How about we go out on a date tonight?"

#solo leveling #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling headcanons #sung jin woo headcanons #sung jinwoo hcs

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kruven · 1 year

Text

— your boyfriend comes back home after 2 years.

"Little do you know, how im breakin' while you fall asleep."

You looked at his sleeping figure, grief overcoming you and eyes stained with tears. You wished you haven't opened the door. You wished you would have let him get wet in the rain. The pitter patter of raindrops which were soothing once, now feel suffocating.

"Little do you know, I'm still haunted by the memories."

You felt like screaming at him. What was he doing? Coming back? After leaving for 2 years? You remembered, how he hugged you just before leaving.

"Little do you know, I'm tryna' pick myself up piece by piece."

You wished to forgive him. To hug him. To run your fingers through his hair. But yet at the same time you wished to never see his face ever again. You loved him.

"Little do you know, I need a little more time."

You cannot love him. You cannot, cannot, you just cannot. He doesn't deserve it! If you would ever love him, it would be in another life! Not now! Not in this life! But yet your heart aches for him. Time. Time heals all the wounds, they say. Maybe you just needed time?

"Underneath it all, I'm held captive by the hole inside."

Closing the door, you let yourself slide down from behind. Tears threatening to pour out anytime. Leaning your head back, you stared at the ceiling. Vision was fuzzy because of tears.

"I've been holding back, for the fear you might change your mind."

You didn't know. You were surprised yourself when he came back. If you interrupt will he leave you? Tears silently falling, the pitter patter of raindrops increasing, as if the sky was letting you cry out.

"I'm ready to forgive you, but forgettin' is a harder fight."

Maybe you could forgive him? No no no! Even if you do, how could you ever forget? It will keep eating you up from inside.

"Little do you know, I need a little more time."

A small part of you hoped that you would wake up. And it all would be a bad dream. He would never be here. Everything would have just been a fleeting dream. A pathetic lie.

"I'll wait, I'll wait, I love you like you've never felt the pain."

He looked miserable, he was worried. All the mistakes he made. He wanted to try, at least try to make it up to you. He knew he didn't deserve it.

"I'll wait, I promise you don't have to be afraid."

He wanted to say he was shocked. You looked at him with so much disgust and yet you were worried. He could see it in your eyes. No, he could feel it too. You were worried for him, a being he is not even himself sure of.

"I'll wait, Love is here and here to stay."

He was ready to get the door slammed on his face. But instead you let him in. He knew you were angry. None of you spoke, the silence was suffocating, nor the pitter patter of rain you both enjoyed together would be enough to distract him

"So lay your head on me."

He wanted you to break the silence. At least even look at him. Even if it's a look of disgust.

"Little do you know, I know you're hurt while I'm sound asleep."

He could feel your gaze, from the couch he was sleeping on. He knows you wished you didn't open the door for him.

"Little do you know, all my mistakes are slowly drownin' me."

He closed his eyes. He wanted to close his eyes forever and sleep. He frowned, he didn't wanted to leave you. But that was inveitable. He hated how everytime he closed his eyes, his brain would get clouded with all the mistakes he committed.

"I'm tryna' make it better piece by piece."

He is trying. He is trying to make everything better. He will listen to Odasaku's wishes and do everything he can to make it up. Which he doubts, he doesn't think it will happen. He is not a good person.

"Little do you know, I love you 'til the sun dies."

He couldn't stop missing you. While in underground, he thought he will forget about you. And bear it himself so you won't have to go through the pain of seeing him again. But that's not what he did. If there was someone else in your place will he forget about them?

"Oh wait, just wait, I'll love you like I've never felt the pain."

He would apologise. Not in the childish way he does, but from bottom of his heart. And he will hope that you forgive him.

"Just wait, I'll love you like I've never been afraid."

He stood up. He can leave forever now. But why? Why were his legs stuck in one place? It's not like he hasn't left anyone behind. Then why does his heart ache for you? Letting out a 'tch' he sat on the couch, staring at the door in front of him. He knows you were there.

"Just wait, our love is here, and here to stay."

You stood up, rubbing you eyes to see clearly, you walked to kitchen counter to get a glass of water. Will it help to calm you down? Your glanced at the kitchen sink which was a mess. Maybe you can clean it to distract yourself? A knife caught your attention. No no no no no no! Don't! A hand grabbed your wrist, spinning you around, you were met face first with a scent of the cheap cologne, which you bought for him once. Your eyes widened, why is he inside? you locked the door didn't you? You tried to shove him away, but his grip was stronger.

"So lay your head on me."

He heard you moving, he stood up and walked towards the door, and tried to open it. It was locked. No problem he can always open a locked door. Quietly he opened it, and panic surged in him. He saw you walking towards the knife. Quickly he ran and grasped your wrist, spinning you around he hugged you. He felt you try and shoving him away but he wrapped his arms tighter around you.

"I'll wait, (I'll wait) I'll wait, (I'll wait), I'll love you like you've never felt the pain."

He burried his face in your hair, whiffing the scent. He could still feel you trying to break free from his hold. It honestly broke his heart. Will you leave him like he did?

"I'll wait, (I'll wait), I promise you don't have to be afraid."

You kept trying to push him away, but he didn't budge. Tears welling up in your eyes again. You were close to pour out again.

"I'll wait, love his here and here to stay."

You gave up on pushing him away, as he didn't budged. You let me hug you, it didn't feel suffocating. On instinct you wrapped youe arms around him, and let yourself feel a little bit of comfort. How can you leave him, now?

"So lay your head on me."

You couldn't bear it anymore, you needed to let those tears out. You gripped him tighter and let yourself breakdown. Maybe you can love him again?

"Lay your head on me."

He pulled you closer to him. Eyes closing he felt you relax under him. Inhaling a deep breath he held you as you were breaking down. Exhaling he hoped you won't leave him? He will come back always. He promises to you! He would not leave ever again.

"So lay your head on me."

You stopped crying and his grip on you loosened. He looked at you, eyes softening. He smiled softly and kissed the top of your head.

"'Cause little do you know, I-"

He said, and took your hands in his. You smiled, you know what he is saying. Something both of you came up one day.

"-I love you 'til the sun dies."

You completed, grinning you wrapped your arms around him and he did the same.

When two remaining puzzle pieces meet, the scenery you are making, becomes complete and doesn't it look beautiful?

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kindoffruity · 1 year

Text

Smitten - Final Chapter

Summary: Neteyam is all patched up, it's time to mate.

Warnings: This is definitely not canon compliant, this is my world. This chapter is technically rated M. Now, I have incorporated enough stuff rated T to balance out for those of you who are not into smut. Because let's be honest, not everyone likes it. With that, I marked it "-The Bond-" to signal when there will actually be sex. Also it's pretty long.

Smitten: Final Chapter - Bond - Both Perspectives

Aonung learned about six new things about Neteyam in the days he was injured.

First, Neteyam was not a morning person.

Every morning, Aonung would wake up to the sun creeping in. Neteyam would be fast asleep in his arms, Aonung could barely escape without Neteyam sort of whining. “I need to go..” Aonung would whisper trying to break free from his sleeping lover's arms, “No.. Just five more minutes.” Neteyam would sleepily beg. But it was never just five minutes. Aonung had fallen for it too many times, giving in to five more minutes he would wake up an hour later to his father yelling outside of his home. It always left him rushing and running around, even while he ran around, Neteyam would sleep peacefully.

Neteyamn would usually wake up confused just before he needed to actually move, he never actually recalled Aonung leaving the bed. He usually rolled over to Aonung’s spot and bundled in real tight.

Second, Neteyam would sometimes get nightmares.

It wasn’t often, but twice in a row, Aonung was woken up to Neteyam shouting and clutching his chest. It would take Neteyam hours to fall back asleep, usually they took a walk on the beach to pass the time. “I’m sorry I woke you.. You can go back to sleep, I will be fine.” Neteyam would reassure him that he could go to sleep, but Neteyam still had bandages on his stomach. Aonung worried that anything could happen, the stitches could come undone. He didn’t need to sleep that much. “What was it about..you had the same dream yesterday?” Aonung would hold him from behind and Neteyam relaxed against him.

“Since I was younger.. I’ve had a recurring dream.. More like a nightmare, I guess. We are at war,” Neteyam starts his eyes closing as he recalls the dream vividly as it has haunted him since he was 15. “We are gathering materials, ammunition and weapons, we are supposed to keep watch but we don’t. We go to help the warriors get the guns, we should have kept watch- they attack us.” Neteyam takes a deep breath, opening his eyes and promising to himself that it’s not real. “In my dream, I was shot. I have never seen the end of the dream, I usually wake up as soon as the bullet hits me. It feels so real sometimes.. But I know it’s not.” Neteyam expressed, he was holding onto Aonung’s arms to ground himself down.

“You must think I am childish, having these silly dreams. We have not been at war for sometime- let us go.” Neteyam had never shared that nightmare before, he was embarrassed to be so vulnerable. “I don’t think you’re childish.. I’m sorry that you have those nightmares. I wish I could protect you from them.” Aonung genuinely means this. Neteyam can only think that Aonung is a great listener that makes him feel safe.

“Growing up, I had a nightmare where I was drowning. Ironic, right? Because I am a good diver now. But I am in the ocean, and I am trying to swim up. However, no matter how fast I kick my legs, I am not moving. I am stuck in the same place, feeling helpless and unable to take a breath.” Aonung explained, “But right before I pass out someone grabs me and yanks me out of the water. I never get to see them, I never even get the opportunity to thank them. I’d like to thank them one day.” Aonung wanted Neteyam to know he wasn’t crazy, sometimes even he had dreams that scared him.

“It was probably me, I’m pretty much a hero.” Neteyam joked, bringing up Aonung’s hand and pressing a kiss to it. “You might be right, Forest Boy. But I think those baby lungs of yours would have collapsed.” Aonung teases, though part of him feels like it could have been Neteyam.

“Knowing that, I’d still go to save you regardless.” Neteyam admits with a small smile, turning around in his arms for a hug. Aonung knows Neteyam means it, while it is endearing the thought scares him. Aonung knows that if it came to him, Neteyam would sacrifice himself for him.

Thirdly, Neteyam did not know how to be taken care of.

Despite the obvious injuries that he had retained, Neteyam was adamant about making himself useful. He would try to sharpen Aonung’s spear for him, or set aside his armor and riding gear. Neteyam should have been in bed resting, but would get up to clean, organize Aonung’s things and would even leave the Marui limping with his bow and arrow, practicing to polish up his skills.

It was probably the second time Aonung could recall a serious argument.

He had returned from the reef, as usual, he carried a shell or something pretty that reminded him of Neteyam. He had caught Neteyam outside, firing his arrow against a specific part of a tree as target practice. Aonung wouldn’t have had a problem with it if Neteyam hadn’t tried to climb the tree to gather his arrows.

Neteyam nearly slipped, wincing as he pulled out the arrow from the tree and tossing it back on the ground so he could continue.

“What are you doing?” Aonung was annoyed, he didn’t even bother to hide it. “I am practicing, I do not wish to be soft by the time I heal.” Neteyam would explain as he jumped down off the tree to his feet. Neteyam tried not to wince as his legs hit the ground, he knew Aonung would have a heart attack. Aonung didn’t understand him, he needed to always be ready.

“That is enough.” Aonung warned him, clearly just concerned. “You are not my parent, I love you. And I would do anything for you, but you need to respect that I need to do this, I cannot be cooped up in a house as if I am a damsel.” Neteyam didn’t turn back to look at Aonung as he picked up his arrows.

“If you cared about me, you’ll put your bow down. I don’t care how often you practice once you are healed- but you will never heal if you are out here climbing trees.” Aonung tried to be level-headed, he did. Neteyam turned around, his bow at his side as he stared at his lover. “If you cared about me, you’d let me do what I need to do.” Neteyam countered. Aonung growled at his lover, dropping the vibrant pink shell he had collected for his lover.

“Why are you so stubborn? You are not at war! You do not need to be constantly on edge, this is extreme even for you. You have nothing to prove!” Aonung shouted, he couldn’t recall ever really yelling at his lover. “You do not understand! Aonung, I cannot lie here like some useless thing- I can never explain my thought process. This is just how I am, I need to be useful. I need to be strong. This is a symbol of weakness!” Neteyam pointed to his injury with regret, “if I was stronger, it would not have happened!”

Ah, there it was.

Neteyam had blamed his injury on himself.

“Ma’Neteyam.. Come here.” Aonung sighed softly, opening his arms up to his lover. Neteyam dropped his bow and immediately attached himself into the others arms, hugging him tight and burying his head in his chest. Aonung smelled like saltwater. Weird, he never thought this scent would be home to him. “Do not blame yourself for your injuries, you did very well for being on your own. You must give yourself credit. I never once thought less of you, in fact, I admire your strength, I wish I could be as strong as you.” Aonung ran his fingers through his braids with a small smile as he held him close.

“I know I can’t force you into bed.” Aonung needed to think of something that would work for both of them. “How about we train together? You can target practice, but with me here so I can get the arrows for you. This way we’re both happy. You won’t hear me complain about your injuries and you get to practice.” Aonung decided to compromise, Neteyam was stubborn and he wasn’t going to take that away from him.

“I’d like that..” Neteyam felt spoiled as Aonung kissed his forehead and then retrieved every arrow for him for the next few hours until he felt satisfied with his training for the day.

Aonung could admit, he didn’t realize how much he needed to polish his climbing skills until Neteyam was behind him laughing at him.

Fourthly, Neteyam seemed to love his tattoos.

At night, when the couple should have been sleeping. Neteyam would often spend time tracing the series of lines that adorned his arms. Aonung would pretend to sleep while his finger seemed to admire every droplet of ink. Neteyam did this when he couldn’t sleep, “I wonder if it hurts..” Neteyam would talk to himself quietly.

Then his attention would drag to the tattoo on his chest, his fingers were more delicate there as the ink was still fresh and even a bit tender as it was the newest piece to adorn his body. “Protecting home?” Neteyam questioned, his words were slurred as if he was ready to pass out while his fingers guided over the ink. Aonung had taught him the meaning of the different tattoos and placements, there were so many that Neteyam would summarize as easily as possible. Aonung tried not to smile as Neteyam finally thought of the reef as home, though the Forest was always his home. Aonung respects that.

This whole thing made Aonung’s heart melt, he couldn’t tell Neteyam he was awake the whole time. Neteyam had fallen into a nightly routine of tracing the ink on his body. Aonung would wait until the finger stopped moving all together, a minute later usually he would hear a soft snore and he knew Neteyam had fallen asleep.

Aonung’s eyes opened up to admire his sleeping lover, planting a kiss on his head. He knew one day Neteyam would kill him for pretending he was asleep while he did these cute things. Aonung wouldn’t dare tell him anytime soon.

Fifth, Neteyam loved all gifts.

Aonung had been in a relationship briefly, it was difficult for him because nothing he had ever done was good enough by their standards. Once he had a shell thrown back on the ground because “anyone could get a shell”. Those moments always stuck with him. It was why Aonung worked so hard to get the nicest things, he’d only get the best for Neteyam.

But Neteyam was grateful for everything.

Aonung had returned home once with a singular flower, it only grew in a specific cave so it was unique. Aonung was eager to give it to him because Neteyam was at this point just about fully healed. Except, on his way back to give him the flower, he had been tackled by some kids and it dropped, one accidentally stepping on it and squashing it.

Aonung knew it was an accident, so he didn’t get upset.

“Teyam, I’m home.” Aonung called out as he stepped inside, squished flower in his hand. “Welcome back! Look at the bandages, gone. Stitches, removed.” Neteyam was practically running around now that he wasn’t injured anymore. (Plus Aonung couldn’t be mad if he was all healed and running around).

Aonung swore he had leaped and jumped in his arms. “I take it my mother did a good job with you?” Aonung asked with a laugh as he held him close. He gave him a tight squeeze, just celebrating the others' health.

“What is that? Is that for me?” Neteyam asked, reaching for his hand he pulled the squished flower out of Aonung’s hand. “Well- it was but.. Some kids squished it- I can get you another one.” Aonung didn’t know why he felt nervous that Neteyam was going to be upset or hate the flower.

“No, it's perfect. I love it. Thank you so much for thinking about me.” Neteyam accepted it with a large smile, pulling away towards the bed and taking a seat on the ground to grab a box. Aonung stared wide. He hadn’t expected him to be that eager for a squished flower.

Neteyam had saved every single gift, no matter how small it was. It was all there in this box. “You saved it all?” Aonung asked stupidly, his mouth hung open as he watched Neteyam pull out little gifts from years ago when they first met. There wasn’t much from that time, but a rock and a few notes that they had passed along.

“Yeah, I save everything you give me. Like this, you probably don’t remember but years ago, you gave me this scale. Remember, we didn’t know what it belonged to, only that it glowed in the night.” Neteyam held up the scale, probably the same size as a pearl. “You know.. I think I must have always had a crush on you.” Neteyam looked up at him with the largest smile as he held it out to him.

Aonung was so in love, he dropped down to his knees and immediately hugged Neteyam, practically squishing him with all his weight. “Why are you this perfect?” Aonung never thought he would have gotten this lucky, Neteyam treasured even the dumbest things he had given him. Of course he was appreciative of a squished flower. “You always bring me the nicest gifts.. It really brightens my day to know you’re always thinking of me.” Neteyam admitted, just laying underneath the other with absolutely no protest.

Aonung loved adorning Neteyam with all sorts of gifts, but there was no greater satisfaction than Neteyam saving even the smallest things. Aonung could see that Neteyam was starting a collection of shells and sea glass. Aonung would need to create a space for him to place the collection. Aonung buried his head in Neteyam’s neck.

They spent at least an hour just laying on the ground and cuddling while going over all of the items. “Which one is your favorite?” Aonung asked, admiring the assortment he had gathered for his lover. “Probably the crown you made for me.. I never get to wear it but I love it so much.” Neteyam admitted grabbing the headpiece and placing it over his ears.

Aonung loved the way it looked on him, it was definitely his favorite too. Neteyam was usually beautiful, but he seemed almost like a dream when he wore the delicate headpiece. Neteyam looked up at him with big eyes almost expectantly, his hands gently scratching at his back as Aonung finally got the hint.

Neteyam wanted a kiss.

Aonung caressed his face, just admiring his beauty before he pulled him for a slow and sensual kiss. No matter how many times their lips pressed against each other, the spark never faded, it only intensified. Neteyam clung to him, learning to love the heavy weight of his lover. Aonung using an arm to prop himself up so he could properly kiss.

Aonung pulled away, his heart throbbing at the sight of Neteyam underneath him. Neteyam couldn’t hide his emotions at all, his eyes begging for more, cheeks flustered, his hair framed his face beautifully. Aonung wishes to memorize this moment for the rest of his life.

It led him to the sixth conclusion about Neteyam.

Neteyam was a huge tease.

Now granted, Aonung had said they would wait to mate until Neteyam was all better. For some reason, little things kept getting in the way. He was pulled to observe the reefs in the evenings, it made it hard for him to actually plan. Because everytime, he had set aside time for them, just a two day vacation or a romantic trip to the spirit tree.

Something always got in the way.

The Ilu had run out once, they had to gather them before they were eaten.

An Akula lurking too close to home.

Lo’ak picking a fight with the neighboring clans- which was an awful story on its own.

Nothing seemed to go right when Aonung tried to plan it.

Neteyam had practically moved into his Marui at this point, which was lovely, really. Except, Aonung would come home and Neteyam would pounce on him. Neteyam would kiss him hungrily and wrap his legs around him to pull him on the bed.

Aonung loved it, every second of it, every kiss and playful bite.

But it always left them both unsatisfied because they wanted to wait to do it right. Aonung always pulled away with such great restraint, Neteyam still pulling at him. Aonung knew it was a blessing to have someone as eager as Neteyam.

Neteyam had once pushed him down, climbing on top of him and pinned his wrists down. “Neteyam..” Aonung would call out half-heartedly because he didn’t want him to stop. “Shhh.. No speaking.” Neteyam would smirk down at him, planting a heated kiss on his lips and pulling away to trail hot and steamy kisses down his neck. Aonung let out a shaky sigh as Neteyam bit down and marked his neck. The hickey itself was Neteyam’s claim on his body.

Aonung’s hands grabbed at his thighs and then rested on his butt, Neteyam’s tail wagging excitedly as he marked his lover's neck up. “What will they say tomorrow, when you show up to the hunt covered in marks?” Neteyam would purr into his ears, Aonung could only groan in response. Neteyam had possessive tendencies sometimes, Aonung swore it was because he hadn’t mated him yet.

“Yo bro, could I borrow some beads-“ Lo’ak should have learned his lesson, but he never did. He walked in on them, immediately screaming like a child in horror by the sight. Neteyam usually would have jumped off embarrassed, except he didn’t. He turned around and glared at Lo’ak, grabbing the bag of beads and throwing them at his head. “Get out! You don’t know how to fucking knock- Stop screaming!” Neteyam shouted climbing off of Aonung and shoving Lo’ak out, Neteyam heard him fall out and the beads spill.

Aonung could tell Neteyam was pent up and frustrated, and Lo’ak was probably traumatized. Hopefully, he learned to knock.

“Ma’Teyam..” Aonung reached for him, pulling him close to cuddle. “Soon… I’ll give you everything you want.” Aonung promised, kissing his neck and spooning him from behind. Neteyam pouted, arms folded in annoyance because they had been interrupted so many times.

- - -

“I plan on mating with Neteyam. I have decided to not proceed with our traditional methods of bonding in front of our clan. I would like for us to have our bond between ourselves and Eywa.” Aonung spoke at dinner, Neteyam hadn’t been expecting that in the slightest. If he was honest, he had forgotten traditionally they would mate before their clan members. Neteyam didn’t speak, he just ate, too embarrassed to even look up at his parents.

“You know, for it to be-”

“It will be before Eywa. And that is all we need. With that being said, we will be unavailable for the next week.” Aonung needed to speak now, everyone seemed surprised by the mention of needing a whole week. Even Neteyam tried not to choke on his food, a week was excessive. He could feel eyes pouring into him.

“Very well, we will proceed without you for the following week.” Tonowari spoke, Ronal seemed like she was going to protest their methods. “Neteyam has nothing to do with this, I have realized that I do not need an audience to acknowledge my love. Only Eywa.” Aonung paused with a smile, “Plus I don’t want anyone else to look at my mate.”

Neteyam actually choked.

All eyes were on him as he rushed out, unable to excuse himself as he was coughing and sputtering from embarrassment. Aonung was pleased with himself. Aonung took a final bite of his food and excused himself to rush after Neteyam.

“Aonung! A-A week?” Neteyam sputtered on the way back to their Marui, shaking his head, still baffled by the whole conversation.

“I could ask for two if you’d like,” Aonung offered with a smile as he hugged Neteyam from behind. “You act like you haven’t been trying to jump my bones everyday since you healed. The least I could give you is a week for just the two of us.” Aonung walked slowly as he held onto Neteyam.

“And ignoring tradition?” Neteyam asked leaning against as they stepped together, it must have looked so funny as they were moving as one.

“I don’t want anyone else to hear you or see you. They already think you're perfect, wait until they hear you whimper,” Aonung pressed a kiss into his ear and Neteyam shuddered, shaking his head embarrassed at the thought of that. “Whatever will I do with you..” Neteyam didn’t hate it though.

————

The remainder of the week left Neteyam on edge, he was excited but nervous. Constantly restless, reality had settled in, they were finally going to mate.

Neteyam set aside time from his regular duties to redo his hair, even shine the pearls he had been gifted. Neteyam was worried it wouldn’t be perfect, what if he wasn’t as good as he wanted to be? Maybe he’d disappoint Aonung? The second those intrusive thoughts hit, he tried to shake them away.

Aonung was probably his biggest fan.

When the day came, Neteyam felt self conscious almost instantly. Aonung had gifted him a new garment, it was white and sheer, with sewn in pearls. It covered his chest, leaving his back open, the thin fabric left little to imagine. With the new top came a new loincloth, the material as soft as silk. It hung low on his hips, a pearl white. Aonung even added an anklet for him, now from pretty much head to toe he had been dressed by his lover.

Most people didn’t even get the amount of gifts he received.

Aonung had left him to get ready, Aonung was waiting by Yam, such a ferocious Tsurak with the funniest name. Neteyam let out a shaky sigh stepping out of their Marui, Neteyam was flustered as he walked slowly, worried the beads were suddenly too loud or that he’d trip over and eat sand.

Aonung turned to face Neteyam, his jaw practically dropping as he took in his features. Neteyam was always beautiful, but he was practically glowing. It was unreal, Neteyam was walking slowly to watch his step but everything was already playing in slow motion in Aonung’s head.

Aonung couldn’t believe this was his mate. The garments and accessories framed his body well, emphasizing Neteyam’s best features. His small waist prominent, the curve of his ass, and at the top his broad shoulders wrapped delicately in the thin sheer fabric.

Neteyam could feel Aonung’s eyes staring at him, it made the uneasiness fade away. Aonung really liked what he saw, it made Neteyam feel confident.

“I have imagined this countless times.. But my thoughts were nothing compared to your actual beauty.” Aonung spoke once he realized Neteyam was standing right in front of him. He reached to help Neteyam on his skimwing. “You think so? Well don’t get used to this.” Neteyam teased, his confidence skyrocketing as Aonung pressed a kiss to his hand.

The ride there was difficult, the waves weren’t bad on anything but it all felt so surreal. Neteyam swore he would wake up, or perhaps he had already died and these were just his thoughts.

Aonung’s arms squeezing his waist and pulling him close reminded him that this was real. Neteyam sighed softly, just admiring the beautiful day. The vibrant sky, smooth waves, and everything was just perfect. Neteyam’s hands rested over Aonung’s as they rode.

Aonung was absolutely excited, he was so happy that nothing could even remotely ruin this. As they approached the cove of ancestors, he could feel Neteyam twitch and that baby tail wagging excitedly. Neteyam was just as excited as their destination became closer.

“I hope you remembered how to breathe.” Aonung teased, now it was time to release Yam. Neteyam suddenly forgot how to breathe, letting Aonung help him down. Neteyam immediately clung to him, his arms wrapped around him. “And if I forgot?” Neteyam returned the tease, the two staring into each other's eyes. Aonung swore he could get lost in those golden orbs, so he instinctively pulled him closer. Neteyam smiled, immediately caressing Ao’nung’s face and gently pulling him for a soft kiss.

It was chaste, but it had probably been the most exciting kiss yet.

Aonung led the way down, their hands locked as they swam to the spirit tree. Neteyam was glad they elected to do this on their own. It was much more romantic, Neteyam admired the tree, thanking Eywa for everything. For this life he lived, his beautiful new home, and his amazing mate. Neteyam’s eyes closed as he thanked her. Once he opened them, it looked like Aonung had been doing the same thing. It gave Neteyam the opportunity to admire his lover, his strong arms and his handsome face.

Aonung slowly opened his eyes, smiling at him as they pulled each other closer. Their legs intertwined, locking each other together, they were unable to speak underwater but both of their gazes alone held so much love and respect for one-another. It was all they needed.

The two shared a moment, heads pressed together, just admiring each other. Aonung reached first, his hand reaching for his braid, pulling around his queue. Ao’nung’s eyes locked on Neteyam’s as he mirrored him. Neteyam’s free hand intertwined their fingers together. There was a brief moment where they didn’t move, almost stunned with emotions.

They both simultaneously take the extra inch and they have connected. Nothing could have mentally prepared them for what it felt like to be one. If Neteyam could breathe, it would have taken all of it away. Neteyam’s body shuddered from the emotions, his hand squeezing tight on Aonung’s, nails just digging in from the overwhelming feeling. His body felt hot. Neteyam couldn’t keep his eyes open as he practically curled into Aonung, barely able to steady himself from the intense wave of pleasure and emotions that rushed through him.

Aonung knew he had to be strong here because Neteyam was weaker in the water, he focused a lot of energy on his core to keep them treading. Aonung felt his entire body stutter as the bond was made. Their connection was so intense, Aonung felt like was flying, everything was heightened. He and Neteyam were one, he returned the firm squeeze of Neteyam’s hand before releasing it and pulling him closer, his hand locked on his waist as Neteyam’s legs wrapped around him. Aonung’s eyes closed briefly as the two seemed to just float in a pool of one another. But when his eyes opened again, he couldn’t help but admire his mate's delicate features. Neteyam’s face hid nothing, the pleasure was written all over it and Aonung could tell his lover was running out of air.

Aonung gently caressed his face, pulling him for a sensual kiss. Aonung made sure he was pumping some air into his lover's lungs. Pulling away, he had Neteyam wrap his arms around his neck. Neteyam held where their braids had connected in his hand to keep them locked in place. Aonung allowed the other to cling to him so he could swim them up to air, before he left he thanked the great mother for allowing him to mate with Neteyam.

The second they reached air, Neteyam gasped out, he was almost desperate to breathe. “H-Hah..Aonung..” Neteyam spoke in between shaky breaths, his body was on edge, he had been struggling to breathe and their connection itself made him want to whimper from the intensity of it. Neteyam’s legs wrapped tightly around Aonung, as if he didn’t want to let go. Aonung pulled his whimpering lover for another kiss, this time more heated- it was almost desperate as they clung to the other in the water.

Aonung struggled to maintain his composure as Neteyam practically whimpered in his ear from their connection. Aonung pressed a kiss to his neck as his hands dragged from Neteyam’s thighs to his back, just feeling him. Neteyam was officially his now, they would be together for life. Aonung nipped at Neteyam’s lip, sliding his tongue in eagerly as they’re hands explored each other's body. Everything was so sensual, the smallest brush against his nipple left Neteyam practically shaking. Aonung could relate, his length hardened underneath the weight of his lover.

The couple spent some time, treading in the water and just making out when Neteyam pulled away first, his cheeks flushed and lips practically swollen from the intense kisses, at this point their erections were just pressing into each other. “Aonung.. Let’s go back.. I want you..” Neteyam whispered boldly to him. Neteyam was just about ready to burst, Aonung instantly agreed. He had just been waiting for Neteyam to be ready. Aonung had already planned for them to continue everything at home. He couldn’t put Neteyam’s lungs through sex in the ocean. Their first time needed to be comfortable.

————

-Bond-

———-

Aonung called for Yam, the second he straddled the skimwing he felt instantly tortured. Neteyam was still clinging to him, Neteyam’s length pressed firmly into his stomach while all of his weight and his ass sat right on his loincloth. His own length practically wedged between his mate’s cheeks. The two could feel the heat quickly brewing and intensifying as they rubbed against each other. Neteyam’s nipples pressed against the sheer fabric left them feeling almost raw in the most pleasurable way.

“I love you..” Neteyam was squeezing him tightly, he didn’t want to let go any time soon. Aonung’s hand rested on Neteyam’s waist, gently trailing his hand over a particular sensitive spot, he had learned his favorite spots. “I love you more.” Aonung gently challenged him as he saw their home approaching.

“Aonung..” Neteyam’s voice was needy, Aonung knew exactly where Neteyam was. He understood though, they had waited for so long for one another and now this ride back was so long.

Aonung quieted his lover with his lips, nipping at his lower lip and pushing his tongue inside to taste his mate. Neteyam didn’t even hesitate to open his mouth to Aonung, a muffled moan against his lips. Aonung wanted to hear more, his free hand playing with the bouncing tail. Neteyam pulled away flushed, a quiet moan threatening to escape as his tail was another sensitive spot Aonung remembered.

“My love, we have arrived.” Aonung maneuvered them off the animal. Neteyam pulled him for another kiss, almost causing Aonung to stumble in the sand. Aonung steadied himself, his hands on the back of Neteyam’s thighs to hold him up while they walked. Neteyam was so eager, Aonung struggled to watch where he was going. “I’ve waited too long..” Neteyam whispered against his lips, pulling away to kiss Aonung's neck. Each kiss left a burning trail of pleasure on his. “As have I..” Aonung gently reminded himself, he would drop Neteyam if he didn’t watch his steps.

Aonung had set up their home, adorning it with special flower petals and new blankets for them. Once they were inside, it was like a switch was flipped within Aonung. He had tried to be calm, but now they were here, he didn’t have to hold himself back. Aonung gently placed Neteyam on the bed, Neteyam was panting already.

They had just gotten started.

Neteyam’s golden orbs filled with want as he looked up at Aonung, his legs spread to welcome him in between them. Aonung eagerly accepted the invitation, immediately attacking Neteyam’s neck, he bit and suckled on the skin leaving the prettiest marks to claim his body.

The kisses and marks traveled from Neteyam’s neck, all the way down to his calves. Aonung paid extra special attention to his inner thighs, leaving all sorts of steamy kisses and especially bites there. Neteyam was already his, but Aonung still felt the need to mark him now that he could.

Aonung’s eyes dropped to the new loincloth that seemed to be already soiled with precum, “So soon, my love?” He teased as his hands pulled at the sides of the cloth and wriggled it off, revealing Neteyam’s body. Neteyam wasn’t even embarrassed at this point, legs spread out, his cock resting on his stomach, the head glistening with beads of precum.

Aonung had to take a second to admire all of it, Neteyam caught this and smirked at him. “Do you like what you see?” Neteyam asked, despite it being their first time, Aonung had done wonders for his self confidence. So all that worshiping and praise he had received from his lover left him like this. Neteyam did feel flustered being on display but Aonung had made him confident regardless.

“How could I not?” Aonung pressed a kiss to the dripping head of Neteyam’s cock, causing him to almost instinctively close his legs but Aonung held them open. “Now isn’t the time to be shy, Forest boy.” Aonung gently reminded, Neteyam bit his lip, he hadn’t expecting to feel that sensation,

“Keep your legs open for me.” Aonung reached over his body, pulling out a small vial and pouring some of the contents on his fingers. “Nung..?” Neteyam watched him, wondering what it could have been. “It’s to help it go in easier, I don’t want to hurt you.” Aonung explained, planting a kiss on his forehead before rubbing the other's entrance with the substance. Neteyam shuddered at the foreign feeling, but he had wanted this for so long, he held his legs open for Aonung.

Aonung watched his mate’s reaction carefully to see if there was any discomfort before he slipped his finger in. Neteyam seemed to tense for a moment, unused to the feeling. Aonung tried not to get excited by the thought of how the inside of Neteyam would finally feel. He thrusted the digit slowly to allow him to get used to it, then added a second finger so he could really start to stretch him out. The lube on his fingers was created to trigger Neteyam’s body to lubricate itself. In essence, the more turned on he became the slicker he’d become. Aonung watched Neteyam struggle to decide if he liked the feeling. With that being said, Aonung reached his free hand to jerk his cock slowly at the pace of his fingers.

Soon enough, the weird feeling of fingers inside of him disappeared and it was replaced with intense pleasure as Aonung hit the best spots. “Aonung..” Neteyam started to speak but it was cut off by a soft moan, “Please.. Please stop teasing me.. I just want to cum with you..” Neteyam’s voice was dripping in pleasure.

Aonung watched as his fingers unraveled the male underneath him, he knew it was pretty much time for Neteyam, his insides were nice and wet, a mixture of the oil and now his body was self lubricating. Neteyam’s hands reached for his loincloth and immediately pulled them down. It was Aonung’s turn to be embarrassed for a split second, his cock springing up and hitting him in the stomach, extremely eager to be released. Aonung saw Neteyam blush at the sight and he swore he heard him gulp at the length of it.

“I uh.. I don’t think it’s going to fit..” Neteyam knew Aonung was big, but seeing it uncovered, it was a little nerve wrecking. “We can go slow.. Just relax, I promise I won’t hurt you and if it does hurt, we can stop.” Aonung reminded him gently. Neteyam still looked nervous, despite all the confidence and want in the beginning, it was their first time. It was a little scary.

“My love, just focus on me..” Aonung pressed a kiss to his lips, not as rushed as the first ones, slow and sensual. Neteyam’s arms wrapped around his neck, practically surrounding himself with Aonung. The kiss distracted Neteyam while Aonung lined himself up, Neteyam tensed a bit when he felt the warm head pressing into him. Next thing he knew, Aonung was slowly pushing inside of him. Neteyam’s nails dug into Aonung’s back as he tried to ground himself. At first, it hurt to be stretched. He had never felt this before, but it still slid in without too much resistance probably from all the lubricant. Neteyam took a shaky breath and pulled away from the kiss. “Nung.. Slower please..” Neteyam whispered, his mouth hung open as he tried to breathe and get used to the length.

“I know, my love.. I’m almost all the way in.. You’re doing great.. I’m so fortunate to have you as my mate..” Aonung whispered against his lips, it took a lot out of him to go so painfully slow, easing inch by inch inside his lover, but Neteyam being comfortable was far more important than his own needs right now. The nails at his back left a burning sensation where they dug into him. Aonung pushed all the way in, peppering kisses on his lover's face and lips as he whimpered at the feeling of being so full. Aonung couldn’t even hold back his own groan at finally being one with Neteyam.

Everything felt surreal.

“Neteyam.. Is it okay to move?” Aonung asked, waiting for his lover to find words, Neteyam nodded shakily and clung tighter onto Aonung. Aonung pulled his hips back, nearly pulling all the way out and then pushing back in. Neteyam let out a huff of air, tears starting to form in his eyes. “Neteyam.. We can stop..” Aonung gently reminded him but Neteyam shook his head no. “I don’t wanna stop.. It’s just so much..” Neteyam tried to explain but Aonung didn’t understand. Was it too much dick? Or too many emotions?

“My love.. You’re doing so great..” Aonung whispered in his ear, it was everything Neteyam always needed to hear. Aonung knew Neteyam always responded well to praise, so he whispered all sorts of endearments in his ears. The nails on his back slowly stopped digging painfully, Neteyam pulled Aonung for a kiss just as Aonung had started to settle in for a nice pace. Aonung returned the kiss, his hands exploring Neteyam’s body, resting on his length as he slowly jerked his lover off in sync with his thrusts.

Neteyam at first found it hard to breathe, Aonung was well endowed. But, the compliments and hand on his length helped him. The compliments made him want to keep going, it motivated him. It wasn’t long until Neteyam could breathe easier, a little too easy, as moans just seemed to fall out of his lips left and right. Aonung was moving freely now, Neteyam didn’t even feel pain, it felt amazing.

Aonung noticed that Neteyam had gotten accustomed, “Nete… Can I go faster?” Aonung had been really holding himself back, but Neteyam was enjoying it now. It was well worth the wait. “Please.. Yess.” Neteyam responded instantly, a loud moan escaping as Aonung hit a special bundle of nerves. Aonung made sure to remember that.

It wasn’t long until the couple had found a rhythm that worked for them, first times were always hard in the beginning, they had just started to learn each other's body. Aonung realized that while Neteyam liked a sweet and slow start, it somehow ended with him being rough.

Aonung had no complaints as the Marui filled with fast skin slapping and loud moans, Aonung wincing as the nails dragged all the way down his back. Neteyam whined and mewled, telling Aonung how much he liked it.

“Nung.. I’m going to cum.” Neteyam warned his lover, his legs wrapping tighter around him to keep him locked in. “It’s okay, you can cum we’ve got all week.” Aonung teased, as if he wasn’t just ready to burst. Neteyam tried to hold out so they could cum together, it only took one thrust to have him spill all over his stomach.

Neteyam swore he was seeing stars.

Aonung was going to pull out since Neteyam had cum but the legs around his waist wouldn’t let him move, “Inside..” was the only thing Neteyam breathed out, Neteyam’s eyes were dazed with lust and he looked absolutely ravished by his lover. It took Aonung back to hear him say that, it sent shivers down his spine. “Are you-” Aonung was just checking to see if he was sure but then he felt Neteyam clench around his cock and he couldn’t help but groan in pleasure. Neteyam knew exactly what he was doing.

Neteyam was very sure of what he wanted.

With Neteyam clenching on him and taking some notes from Aonung’s books. “Please cum in me.. It feels so good, Aonung..” Neteyam’s voice was fucked out as he mirrored Aonung’s voice. Aonung wasn’t sure if he also had a praise thing- or if it was because Neteyam sounded soooo good.

Aonung barely lasted a few more thrusts before he came inside of Neteyam, it took all of his strength to not give out on Neteyam. He used his arm to steady himself as he came down from the high of an orgasm. Neteyam shuddered, feeling the warm liquid filling him. The couple laid intertwined with one another, just catching their breath and admiring each other.

Their first time was something else, it was a little nerve wrecking but certainly filled with love. Neteyam didn’t let Aonung pull out for a good hour, before their tired bodies decided it was time for bed. It was difficult for Aonung to clean up while still connected but he managed. Neteyam had instantly passed out after Aonung pulled out. It left Aonung awake spooning his lover with a content smile on his face.

————

— The Bond —

————

The next week really was a blur, Neteyam proved to be quite the animal in bed. Aonung thought he would have been the one who was insatiable but their first morning together, Neteyam had practically sprung up, climbed on him, and rode him. Aonung should have known what to expect, but Neteyam surprised him.

The return back to reality was harsh, they could just lay in bed the whole day just whispering how much they loved each other. It was back to their usual responsibilities, hunting and basket weaving, protecting the reef.

“Welcome back..” Tonowari greeted his son, he looked proud with a knowing smirk. Aonung sporting half healed scratch marks down his back and faint hickeys. Neteyam had enough respect to allow their bodies to heal from embarrassment. “It’s nice to be back, I suppose we should hunt?” Aonung asked with a smirk. He did miss hunting a bit.

“Yeah I suppose we should,” It was Neteyam.

They always say, you can tell when someone has been held. The person’s body becomes more beautiful, they practically glow and even their hair becomes shiny.

It was the truth, villagers and members of the clan immediately noticed how Neteyam grew more beautiful in the week that had passed. Neteyam noticed the eyes on him, a little concerned he had been walking funny or had something on his face.

“Shouldn’t you be-” Aonung started.

“You’re not the only one with a Tsurak.” Neteyam smirked, walking past his lover. His tail swishing as he passed him, he did feel his knees buckle for a split second. He had been trying to pretend like his body wasn’t aching but this last week was more of a work out than anything. His thighs burned with every step he took.

“Why is Neteyam walking kind of funny?” Tuk commented amusedly, kicking her legs at the edge of the water.

Lo’ak had learned his lesson of messing with the couple, he did notice the almost side step Neteyam had taken, “Neteyam has been rock climbing, right Aonung?” Lo’ak commented through gritted teeth. They were mated now, he couldn’t do anything to stop him.

If you can’t beat them, join them.

Aonung was too distracted by the large Tsurak that was by Neteyam, it was larger than Yam, and even seemed more feral. “When did you?!” Aonung was baffled by this secret.

“Don’t worry, meet Ao.” Neteyam introduced the large animal to Aonung who was still processing. “I hope you didn’t think because we mated I was going to stay at home and wait around for you. I am not some male wife.” Neteyam reached for his bow.

Aonung wasn’t surprised by this decision, he was more surprised that Neteyam had tamed a feral skimwing and hadn’t told him. It was then he realized that this marriage was just the beginning of some crazy adventures together.

“I never thought that for a second, let’s go hunt.”

#aonung x neteyam #neteyam x aonung #aonunete #aonung #avatar #fanfic #it's over #lmk what yall think #what do i do now #avatar way of water #I love these boys sm #forever otp

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