The War Has Finally Come And Your Entire World Falls Into Ruin. After A Surprise Attack From The Death

The war has finally come and your entire world falls into ruin. After a surprise attack from the Death Eaters, you barely escape with your life and find refuge in a faraway safe house. Everything would have been fine, all things considered, except for the fact that you had fallen right into the snake’s pit.

links to all chapters ➺ tumblr: one | two | three | four | coming soon… ➺ ao3: one | two | three | four | coming soon…

AQUAMARINE: THE SERIES

In a world driven by ambition, power, and wealth, two individuals find themselves entangled in a web of complex emotions and conflicting interests. Y/N, a determined and compassionate businesswoman, and Wonwoo, a shrewd and successful businessman, find themselves in a bind that holds the promise of financial gains and social advancement. Can Y/N and Wonwoo navigate the storms of emotions as the fate of the child becomes intertwined with their own journey when the ghost of the past is still hunting their present? In the treacherous waters of greed, money, and societal expectations, they must ultimately decide whether their connection is worth sacrificing for or if love has the power to seep through the cracks of their guarded exteriors.

A Jeon WonwooXReader fanfic.

GENRE: ARRANGE CONTRACT MARRIAGE AU! ENEMIES TO LOVERS!

Angst; Fluff; Smut

Update: Every Sunday or Monday.

Disclaimer: This work, including all its characters, plot elements, and themes, is a work of fiction created for entertainment purposes. Any resemblance to real individuals, events, or places is purely coincidental. The author acknowledges that no copyright infringement is intended for any existing intellectual property that might have influenced this narrative. All rights to the original content and characters in this story are reserved by the author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Index

Chapter 1: The Unforeseen Circumstance

Chapter 2: A Reluctant Agreement

Chapter 3: Ties That Bind

Chapter 4: Eliminating the demons

leveling the playing field VI

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.6k (she's long today DAMN)

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and discussion of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing

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a/n: omg it finally happened?? i couldn't resist anymore i had to :,)

anyway i wanted to pop in for a rare note and say thank you so so much to everyone reading this!! it means so much to me that people are enjoying this as much as i am enjoying writing it :)

so if you are and you wouldn't mind,, please reblog or leave your thoughts in the replies! it really helps me out so that way it can reach more people, and also it really helps motivate me to actually keep writing it bc i'll be reminded people want me to :).

thank you for reading this long ass authors note! and thanks for making it this far in the fic!! 

i promise it's not over yet ;) we've still got a long way to go! so hopefully i'll see y'all soon when the next part comes out !

xoxo, raye

You walked back to the academy, still too high on adrenaline to even consider sleeping at that point. By the time Coryo made it back in, it was nearly eight am. You totally understand him wanting to get a bit of extra sleep, considering the night you just had- but who knows how long he was with Dr. Gaul.

Other mentors had started to arrive before he did, and almost everyone made it clear they didn't want to speak with you. You didn't have the energy to chat anyway, you didn't want to. You're endlessly relieved when Coryo arrives, notifying you of his presence with a hand on your shoulder. You jump at this, regardless of his effort to not scare you.

The chair scrapes across the floor and you feel everyone's eyes on you at the dramatic reaction. To him, it really wasn't shocking.

"Sorry- I'm sorry." You chuckle, quickly getting up to give him his spot back.

"Have you slept?" He asks, making no effort to reclaim the desk, noticing how your hands are shaking as you motion for him to sit.

You aren't sure what the safer answer is. Yes, I slept while I was supposed to be watching over Lucy Gray? Or no, I'm still running on the two hours I got a couple of days ago? Neither is very promising, so you decide to just be honest.

"No, uh, I've been watching for Lucy Gray." You point to the screen, unable to control the trembling of your hand as you do. "I couldn't sleep if I wanted to, so I just decided to start drinking coffee a few hours ago. Might as well commit." You explain, trying to force positivity into your tone and a smile on your face.

Coryo eyes you warily. "You should go home. Get some rest."

"No! No, I'm fine." You insist. "I'm not missing it."

"Go home and sleep." He says again, sternly this time. You tend to listen to him when he's commanding so he clung to that approach, but the look in your eyes immediately makes him regret it.

You look down, then back to your seat on the bench. You take a shaky breath before locking eyes with the blonde again. You're full of impulses that contradict each other. To listen to him, to snap and tell him not to speak to you like that, or to storm out and never come back. Realistically, he is under a ridiculous amount of stress. You can't blame him for being a little commandeering. After all, it's what he is meant to do. It's what he's been raised for. "I told you. I can't."

Realization dawns on him and he stares at you for a second, eyes widening. "Right." He nods slightly, shrugging off his coat and holding it out to you. "Just go lay down on the bench." He accentuates his point by shaking the jacket.

You smile, taking it gratefully. "Thank you, Coryo."

"'Course." He nods, finally moving to sit down once you walk away. You settle down on the bench and curl up, your head resting on his bunched-up uniform jacket like it's a pillow. You're not sure you've ever been so comfortable, and you're asleep within a minute.

Coriolanus wonders if his coat will smell like raspberries when you return it.

"What's he doing?" You hear Coryo's accusatory voice before you even open your eyes. As you try and shift, adjusting to the sounds of everyone around you, you come back to reality. No wonder your neck is sore as soon as you sit up, sore from your wooden bed, with no time to really wake up before you're hit with the realization of what's happening on the screen.

"I-I don't know!" Lysistrata says, assumingly replying to him.

You're squinting at the lights as you adjust, the figures of Lucy Gray and Jessup becoming clear as he chases her in her rainbow dress out of the tunnel and across the floor, booking it toward a pile of debris that would allow her to climb up into the stands.

"What's happening?" You ask pointlessly, standing now that you see Coryo is as well.

Lysistrata looks at you, shrugging helplessly as she stands next to Coryo.

"Hey! You promised me that if I-" You start, pacing toward the girl with determination, anger burning up in your chest and in your eyes.

"Y/N/N, wait-" Coriolanus holds his hand out to stop you, effectively his attack dog, from getting any closer. From telling her off for blowing your deal. He squints closer at the screen, not saying a word, just leaving you in a limbo- unsure what to do.

As the camera zooms in on the tribute, his theory is confirmed. Jessup has a white foam surrounding his mouth, and Coryo looks at you knowingly. Had Lucy Gray poisoned him? Surely not, he was her only ally. It was too early to take him out, but maybe she didn't think that through, maybe-

"Rabies." You say, hardly above a whisper, eyes locked back on the screen now as well. "That's why the medications didn't help."

Coriolanus is relieved by this explanation, it makes so much more sense. But only knowing what's wrong doesn't help Lucy Gray, Jessup is still fully feral, chasing her up in the stands on wobbly legs as she makes her way to what is left of a concession stand.

"If she can just stay away, he won't last long in this state." Lysistrata says, looking on with sadness in her eyes. "Poor Jessup..."

"Coryo." You say, ignoring her sympathies, seeing Coryo's mind running miles a minute trying to figure out what to do. "Do you remember those posters in the war? When the rabies breakout happened?" You ask, holding onto his arm, giving him a light shake to snap him out of it. "They said that-"

You don't get to finish before he's reaching for the comunicuff. Water, of course.

"Wait." Lysistrata stops him, grabbing the arm that was reaching for the screen.

"Don't touch him! Jessup's going to die anyway! All we can do is try to keep him away- you just said that!" You fire off at her.

"I know, Y/N." She lets him go, holding her hands out defensively. "Let me do it. He's my tribute, after all."

"Lyssie... You don't have to do that." Coriolanus tells her, and you feel guilty for snapping on her like that. She was just trying to help.

"If Jessup can't win, I want it to be Lucy Gray. That's what he would want, too." She explains, stepping back to her desk, tapping away at the screen and sending in water bottles on faulty drones that are more likely to knock the tributes out and smash the bottle than successfully deliver it to their hand.

Thankfully, this is what you want. You watch quietly as Jessup is bombarded with drones programmed to seek out his features, and Lucy Gray drops behind some of the seats to avoid any flying glass or stray drones. He swings helplessly at them with a board he picked up somewhere along the chase, and you glance at Lyssie for only a second, which is long enough to pick up on the fact that she's crying. God, that's probably your fault.

He trips and falls off the stands, bones audibly cracking on impact. Everyone in the room is silent as Lucy Gray reemerges, climbing down to be at his side.

"God, please don't let him die alone..." Lysistrata whispers, hardly audible even to Coriolanus, who's stood right next to her.

"She won't." He whispers back. "It's not her style."

You swallow, drowning in your own guilt while Lucy Gray is talking to the dying boy, stroking his hair and telling him to go to sleep until his eyes lose all sense of life, chest halting. She closes his eyes gently, which cues the buzzer announcing his death.

"Lyssie..." You stop her as she stands to leave, her eyes glassy. "I'm sorry, I didn't know what you were doing."

She laughs slightly, more tears spilling from her eyes. "Y/N. I know you, okay? I get it. Don't apologize if you don't mean it." Until she finished speaking, you didn't realize her laughs were bitter. "You can't keep taking out your anger issues on everyone else. I'm sick of it, everyone is sick of it- sick of you." She says, not giving you the chance to defend yourself before she's gone. You did mean it, but it's not like she'd ever believe that. You had done this to yourself.

You straighten your shoulders, turning to face the screen again. "Lysistrata will come around." Coryo says, sensing the tension radiating off your skin like a heater.

You just slightly shake your head. "Maybe I... Maybe I should go home. Just for a bit." You say, but it comes out more as a question.

"You should stay." He states, offhandedly sending some food in for Lucy Gray before turning to face you fully. He could guess why you don't want to go home, whether or not you were explicitly told to not return until the games were done, though, he doesn't know. Either way, for him, it wasn't worth the risk.

"Actually, yeah, you're right." You sniff. "I'm just having a moment. I'll be fine." You force a smile, blinking rapidly to push back those stubborn tears that wanted to spill.

"No, no that's not what I meant. I just meant..." Coryo trails off.

"It's okay." You smile and nod. "Can I just get some air, then? I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Please. Don't rush on my account." He nods. "But don't stray too far."

"Yes sir, Mister President." You joke, giving him a lazy salute before heading for the door.

You had been gone for a while, far too long for Coriolanus's comfort. Lucy Gray retreated into the tunnels after receiving the food he sent and seeing Reaper come back into the clearing. Now, with Lucky rambling on about the weather again, he felt like he would snap.

He double-checks once more that Lucy Gray is, in fact, still hiding, before he gets up to go after you.

It doesn't take Coryo long to find you, due to him tracking down the sound of crying in the hall. No doubt in his mind it was you, but he'd never seen you cry before.

You stop at the sound of footsteps, frantically wiping your eyes and nose on your sleeve as you make an effort to stand. By then, he's in front of you.

"Don't get up." He says, crouching down in front of you. He doesn't know what to say, he doesn't know exactly why you're crying, or how to help. He wishes he did, he would do just about anything. "What do you need?"

You shake your head, forcing a smile and trying to stand anyway. Coryo stops you with a hand on your shoulder. "I-I don't.." You start, but as soon as you speak the tears start flowing again and you feel like you can't breathe.

"It's okay. Hey, you're okay." He says, pulling you into his arms, effectively onto his lap as he sits back. One thing he knows that works with you is a hug- it's all he can do while he thinks over what could be the root of your problem, or was it just that Lysistrata's comment pushed you over the edge? You were overtired, overworked, and this easily could have been the last straw.

Through your tears, you try to tell him that you're fine, but you just stutter and spit and you know you're a mess- a mortification to your family.

"I'm not sick of you, Y/N." Coryo says, rubbing your back. Feeling your hair between his fingers and trying not to tangle it or pull it by mistake. "I could never get sick of you."

It surprises him when you laugh. Of all things, a laugh. It was just so you.

His statement was more of a confession to himself than to you, and when you pull back he's scared. Was it not about that? Was he way off base, or incredibly unhelpful and somehow offended you?

You sniff, wiping your eyes again. "Thanks," You chuckle, shaking your head. "But you don't have to say that."

Coryo tilts his head, confusion knitted into his expression. "I do." He insists, able to look into your eyes now. "I have to tell you that because it's the truth."

You sigh, smiling slightly. Sadly. "You don't see it."

"See it? See what?"

You just shrug, making no attempts to move away. His hands on you, the feeling of him almost surrounding you is comforting. You want to live in it forever, but you know you can't. "Just... That I'm me, I guess." You say, voice cracking. "You're unflinching to it." You're abrasive sometimes, defensive, and some would call you an overall angry person. He doesn't see you that way, and you're not sure why. Today you were slapped in the face with the fact that your actions have consequences more serious than what your parents can make up for with money or unwritten agreements.

"What's wrong with being you?" He asks rhetorically, not giving you a chance for you to argue before he continues. "You did the right thing. They're jealous- that's all it is. None of them fight for what they want like you, they just sit around and wait for it to be handed to them on a silver platter, and you could too, but you're better than that. You're better than them. Stronger than them."

With his hands now moved up to your shoulders, he's shaking you gently, trying to get your mind to soak in what he's telling you. To believe it, because he knows he's right. The reason others avoid you is the very reason he is drawn to you- your ambition is unmatched, except, maybe, by his own.

"Do you understand, Y/N?" Coryo asks, pressing one hand to your cheek and staring deep into your eyes as if he could somehow look into your mind and grab hold of what Lysistrata said, replacing it with his vision of who you are. "You are perfect. They are fools."

Your smile had gone, ready to fight his point, but it returned by the time his rant was done, blush creeping its way across your cheeks and over your nose. "Perfect is a bit of a strong word." You speak softly. "Don't you think?"

"No. I don't." He shakes his head slightly, running his thumb across your cheek to wipe away a stray tear.

The air became thick with everything he said circulating in your head like a carousel. A relentless spinning cycle with Coryo's every word circling around itself and caging in your panic. The spinning seemed to slow after a moment, as if giving you a chance to catch your breath.

Seemingly, in your experience with him, compliments were few and far between. To others, anyway. Not that you were keeping track, but if receiving compliments from Coriolanus Snow was a race you would be winning by a mile, and that's exactly what it felt like every time.

He tilts your chin up again, the same way he had just a couple of days ago in the arena, drawing your eyes back to his. It takes every ounce of his focus to keep his hand from shaking.

Truth be told, the desperate honesty in his eyes was enough to convince you he was right. You are better than them, smarter than them, stronger than them. If Lysistrata and your other classmates chose to hate you for that, that was because of fear. You'd be lying if you tried to say it didn't make you feel better, even powerful. Coriolanus thought it was right, so how could it not be?

You smile, nodding slightly within his grasp. "You're right, aren't you?"

"Always." He validates your entire thought process just like that.

You can't help it anymore. The power of his words push you past the brink, leaning forward to meet his lips with your own. Coryo pulls you forward with his firm and gentle hold on your cheek, meeting you half way. And as he kisses you, heart pounding out of his chest, you both feel fucking invincible.

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The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 7 - Summer: Paintings and Sunflowers

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Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: Your relationship with Neuvillette continues to develop. Warnings: None except for restrictive gender roles, also for some reason Fontaine’s regency england (sort of) now?. Also someone walks in on someone coming out from the bath Note: I update this story on AO3 first so please subscribe to the fic there if you’d like to read it faster Note 2: If you want to be on the taglist for this fic, please make a reply to this post, send a message or send a private ask

Have a pic of Neuvillette hanging out in front of his fellow dragon apep's house

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“This isn’t working...” you sighed as you stared at your watercolor painting, which was more water than color due to the fact that your paints were heavily watered down to make them last longer. 

You were currently trying to update your art portfolio, which was woefully inadequate. You had heard that governesses who could teach art were in high demand these days, so you decided to concentrate on art recently. 

However, the blobby mess that meant to be the view of the sea from the garden was highly unlikely to impress anyone. 

The sun was beaming down on you heavily. Even your old straw hat was having a hard time doing its job. You took a sip of Snezhnayan water. Seriously, what is the difference between this and water from Fontaine? Maybe I’m just too unenlightened to understand. 

Ever since you and Neuvillette decided to be friends, things had been...quite different. The two of you talked about everything and nothing. Neuvillette liked talking about water and the Melusines, while you would talk about the books you had read. After a while, you sensed that he was learning more about you than you about him, as he always steered the subject away from himself and towards you. It was odd to have someone be interested in your opinions about things...but you found that you really liked that feeling. 

You could ask Neuvillette for money to buy new paints, a voice said in your mind, but you shook your head. You couldn’t ask that favor of a friend, and besides, it was better that you didn’t rely on him too much, or you would get used to it in the future. 

Maybe I'll go check out the art supplies store again and see if they have anything on sale, you thought. Standing out here wasn’t going to do anything.  

Deciding to do just that, you went up to your room to change and spotted your sister’s letter on your desk. That reminded you that you had to buy her a birthday present soon. Since you didn’t have to worry about money as much these days, maybe you could buy her something nice this year.  

“Marie, I’m going out!” you called out to the parlor where she was dusting.  

“Okay, Madame,” Marie said, poking her head out from the door. Her eyes widened upon seeing your long-sleeved dress. “Are you truly going to wear that dress in this weather?” 

“Yes. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. It’s in solidarity,” you said, thinking of Neuvillette’s heavy, multilayered getup that he wore every day. You idly wondered if he sweated.  

“Solidarity?” Marie repeated in confusion, but you were already out the door.  

“Ugh...” 

You were quickly regretting your choice to wear this particular dress. Your hair was already matted to your forehead with sweat.  

It was late afternoon, but the temperature showed no sign of dropping. Looking at the cold drinks held by pedestrians, you decided to stop by the Café to get some iced Fonta first. Ah, just the thought of it made your water. 

As you approached the establishment, you stopped in your tracks. Sitting in the corner table, far out of sight (but not far enough to not attract stares from other patrons) was Neuvillette and Menthe. Both of them reminded you of wilted flowers. 

“What kind of water do you serve here?” you asked the manager, Arouet.  

“...Just regular water, Miss?” the manager looked confused. You couldn’t blame him. 

“Alright, please get me a glass of cold water, an iced Fonta, and an iced coffee, please,” you said.  

After you got your orders, you walked over to the table. “You two look like you could use a pick-me-up.” 

“Ah, Madame,” Neuvillette said and attempted to straighten up in his chair. He looked as impassive as ever, but you had observed him long enough to know that he was in quite a lot of misery right now. “Such pleasant weather we’re having today, perfect for a walk in the city. I see that you have the same idea as well.” 

You stared at him. Is he being serious right now? “Please don’t force yourself, sir. We both know you can’t stand this weather,” you placed the drinks down on the table and sat down. “Here, water for Monsieur Neuvillette, and an iced coffee for Menthe.” 

“Thank you, Madame,” Menthe said with a yawn. “I needed this.” 

“What are you doing here?” you asked Neuvillette. “You know better to than to be out and about, dressed as you are.” 

“I was out for a quick shopping trip, and then I saw Menthe looking a bit dispirited, so I thought I would take her into the shade to rest.” 

I think you’re the one in need of rest here, you thought as you watched Neuvillette wipe at his forehead with a handkerchief. So he does sweat after all. 

“You were shopping? Why didn’t you just get someone to do it for you?” 

Neuvillette cleared his throat and looked away. It was only then that you noticed something wrapped in parchment paper in his lap. “I didn’t wish to entrust this to someone else. I was shopping for a present for someone important.” 

“Oh, I see,” you nodded. Was it a Melusine’s birthday today or something? “What a coincidence, I’m out shopping as well. For paints, and if I’m lucky, a birthday present for my sister.” 

“Paints?” Menthe looked at Neuvillette. “Oh, Monsieur—” 

“Ahem, Menthe,” Neuvillette cleared his throat.  

“Oh, um, I mean, Monsieur Neuvillette told me that you paint really beautifully, Madame! He really likes your paintings of the sunflowers back in your hometown.” 

“Her sketches are wonderful as well,” Neuvillette said, sounding oddly proud. “You should show the Melusines your sketchbook some time, Madame.” 

“Ooh, may I?” Menthe looked at you with big eyes.  

He’s making too much of me, you thought, hiding your embarrassment by chugging down your Fonta. “Alright,” you said. 

“Yay!” Menthe clapped her hands together. Just then, the great clock in front of the café let out a chime, signalling the end of the hour. “Oh, I must get back to work. Goodbye, Monsieur, Madame!” 

“Goodbye, Menthe. Please take care of yourself,” Neuvillette patted the Melusine on the head, who giggled and skipped away. You found yourself feeling oddly jealous. 

Now it was just the two of you. You looked at Neuvillette, who was sipping his water. He looked back at you.  

“Um, I hope the water is to your liking,” you said. “I know it’s not the fancy imported stuff you enjoy.” 

“It’s perfect,” he said. “Just what one needs on a day like this.” 

You looked at his outfit. His cravat was tightly tied around his neck, and his cuffs were buttoned neatly, showing not a bit of skin. He must be dying on the inside right now, but he still managed to look put together. You felt very shabby next to him. 

“I know you said that you always dress according to your standing, and I respect that. But I feel like you could at least take off your gloves, or loosen your cravat a little when you’re on break. I doubt anyone would mind.” In fact, they might go crazy over it.  

“Very well,” Neuvillette said, then proceeded to take off his gloves. The silver ring on his finger glinted even in the shade. 

“You're still wearing the ring!” you blurted out in surprise. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Neuvillette raised an eyebrow.  

You didn’t know how to answer that. 

“And you’re wearing yours as well,” Neuvillette said, indicating your right hand, which was mostly covered by your sleeve. To be honest, you put it on every morning without even thinking about it anymore. It was a reminder to yourself that as easy and comfortable as this “marriage” was, it was still a marriage, and one that was a means to an end. That was what you told yourself, anyways. 

Neuvillette continued to sip his water. He seemed to be enjoying it, which pleased and baffled you at the same time. You still couldn’t quite wrap your head around the idea of water from different places having distinct flavors, but Neuvillette swore up and down that the difference was real and that anyone could taste it if they savored the water patiently enough. Even now, you still wondered if he was secretly testing you or something.  

Still, what a shame it is that he doesn’t enjoy Fonta, you thought. He’s missing out.  

Back in your hometown, only the basic, original flavor was available. But once you moved to the Court of Fontaine, you were introduced to a veritable rainbow of Fonta flavors. You had even spent a week drinking nothing but Fonta. You suspected Neuvillette might have a heart attack if he heard about it. 

Neuvillette finished his water, and then stood up with the box tucked under his arm. “I must return to work. I shall see you at home, in the evening.” 

You nodded. “Make sure to stay cool, sir.” 

Neuvillette was about to walk away when he suddenly turned around. “Ah, Madame. Are you still going to visit the art supplies shop?” 

“Yes. Why?” 

He looked like he was about to say something, but then shook his head. Was he...smiling? Before you could look closer, he turned away. “It’s nothing. Please, enjoy your day.” 

You watched him until he was just a blue speck in the distance. 

Afterwards, you headed to the store. Unfortunately, none of the good quality paints were on sale. Maybe I should just make my own, you thought glumly. The owner, on the other hand, seemed to be in a very good mood. 

By the time you got home, it was already evening. You decided to take a nice long bath to wash away all the sweat. Ah, baths are the best, you thought as you soaked in the bubbles. Back at the boarding house, you had to share two bathrooms with twenty other girls. This was heaven. 

Just then, you heard a knock on the door. That was probably Marie. You wrapped yourself in a towel and went to the door. “Coming!” you shouted and opened the door. “Marie, what—” 

Your words got stuck in your throat as your eyes took in the tall figure standing in front of your room. He was holding the wrapped package from earlier in his hands.  

For a few agonizing seconds, the two of you simply stared at each other. You saw his hands start to shake, and redness creeping to his cheeks. 

You slammed the door in his face and hurriedly put on your bathrobe. Your thick, fluffy bathrobe with a sturdy tie that could be fastened tightly, leaving nothing to the imagination.  

Taking a few deep breaths to control your pounding heart, you flung open the door, catching your bright red face in the vanity mirror in the process.  

Neuvillette was still standing there. You were pretty sure that he hadn’t moved a single inch. His face was now visibly red. As soon as he caught sight of you, he closed his eyes and turned his head away from you.  

“M-My deepest, sincerest apologies to you, Madame,” he said. His voice sounded as though it was being uttered from the deepest trenches of the sea. “I have committed a disgraceful act—” 

“Let’s just forget about it,” you interrupted him. “We’ll both pretend that it never happened. And besides, um, I wasn’t completely naked or anything, I was wearing a towel, and we’re technically married, so...” 

What in Archons’ name are you talking about? Your mind screamed. Neuvillette seemed as though he might never look at you in the eye again. 

“So, anyways, that present is for me?” you said. Does that make me the important person? Despite the situation, your heart grew warm. 

Neuvillette nodded and held it out to you. It looked like he wasn’t going to speak to you again either. 

You carefully accepted the box and tore open the packaging. You let out a gasp when you saw a rosewood box with a carving of roses on the lid. 

It was the watercolor set from the art store you had always admired from a distance. It was too expensive for you to even dream of owning it, of course. 

But now, it was in your hands. 

You opened the box and was met with robes of paints, brushes, and an even a small palette.  

“Y-You got this for me?” you said, looking up at him. He still wasn’t looking at you. “Why? H-How did you even...?” 

“I-I did say that I wanted to help you achieve your goals, and I...I noticed that you were in need,” Neuvillette said. “And, do friends not give presents to each other?” 

“Yes, but...not anything so expensive!” you stroked the lid. “I cannot possibly repay you.” 

It was then that Neuvillette finally turned his head and fixed his gaze on you. “There is no need for repayment. I bought this because I wished to. Just seeing you content is enough for me.” 

His words struck something deep within you. You were so used to receiving hand-me-downs, of stretching things to their limits, that you had no idea what to do in this situation. Your hands felt like they should be doing something, but what? 

“Thank you,” you whispered, and before you knew what you were doing, your hands reached out and clasped his hand tightly. You could feel its warmth even through the glove, and the contours of his ring. You shook his hand vigorously. “I will treasure this gift for the rest of my life.”  

Neuvillette stared at you for a few moments, and then he turned around and walked away. It might have been a dramatic moment, if his brisk pace didn’t cause him to step on his coat tails and almost trip. 

For the third time in the hour, Neuvillette glanced at the clock. He was currently attending a banquet hosted by an important government official, which meant he had to attend. 

He forced another bite of the dry steak into his mouth. He reached for his glass to wash it down with wine. Wine wasn't his first choice of beverage, but it was better than nothing. 

The other dignitaries sitting near him engaged him in conversation about politics and other related topics, and he did his best to respond in kind. But perhaps because his mind was unfocused, his answers came out short and curt. The others seemed to take this as annoyance at being bothered and excused themselves. 

He held back a sigh. Even though social events like these weren’t his strong suit nor even his hobby, he generally tried his best to perform his role and to fit in. But tonight, he was suddenly feeling very impatient to go home. He had been feeling this feeling a lot recently.  

Neuvillette absentmindedly stroked his ring. I wonder what she is doing right now... 

For the past few days, his wife had been working on something and had promised that it would be finished by today. She had refused to let him see it until it was ready. All he knew was that it had something to do with painting.  

Neuvillette glanced at the clock again. There were still hours before this banquet was supposed to end. He closed his eyes and took another sip of wine, imagining calming things in order to quell the restlessness he was feeling. A perfectly flat water surface at night, a cool sea breeze, the smiles of the Melusines, his wife’s smile when he gave her the watercolor set, the feel of her hands around his... 

“Ah, Monsieur Neuvillette, thank you for coming,” a voice interrupted his thoughts. He opened his eyes to see the host of the banquet standing before him. There was a young woman standing next to him. “May I introduce you to my daughter?” 

The young lady curtsied gracefully. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur.”  

“Likewise,” Neuvillette nodded.  

The young lady stepped closer, and he caught a whiff of her perfume. He couldn’t help but compare it to his wife’s scent when she came out of the bath that day— 

“Oh, dear, Monsieur, are you okay?” the young lady and her father looked at Neuvillette with worry as he coughed violently, having choked on his wine. 

“P-Please excuse me,” he said after the fit subsided, and then proceeded to walk out to the balcony to catch his breath. There was no view of the sea from here. It was going to be a long day. 

The sky was dark by the time Neuvillette arrived home, but even from the front door, he could tell that his house was uncharacteristically noisy. 

There seemed to be a crowd of people in the parlor. Neuvillette paused at the door, listening to the snatches of conversation. 

“Madame, are you almost done with Rhemia?” 

“Blathine, don’t rush her. She has been sketching for hours now.” 

“Madame, could you teach me how to sketch too?” 

“Sure. It’ll be good practice, anyways.” 

Neuvillette opened the door. A group of Melusines were sitting on the couches and floor of the parlor. Even Marie was there. They were all holding sketches in their hands, and watercolor paintings were scattered on the floor. In the center of it all, his wife was sitting in his chair, sketching a posing Rhemia.  

“Monsieur Neuvillette, you’re home!” Sedene was the first to notice him.  

His wife turned her head towards him, and the corners of her lips turned up slightly. Neuvillette felt all the restlessness and fatigue he felt earlier drain away.  

“Welcome back,” she said and stood up, giving him back his chair. “How was the banquet?” 

“It was fine,” he said. “What are you all doing?” 

“Well, the Melusines all came over and asked me to show them my paintings. Then, they wanted me to sketch them, so I did.” 

“I see,” Neuvillette said, peering at the sketch of Rhemia. “They are wonderful.” 

“Thank you.” His wife seemed to be putting the finishing touches on the sketch. Neuvillette studied her profile. She looked completely focused on her work. 

“It’s done,” she announced, and handed the sketch to Rhemia.  

“I’m next,” Blathine said and stepped forward. 

"I think Madame Neuvillette needs to rest her hands a little bit,” Marie clapped her hands and gave Neuvillette a knowing look. “Why don’t we go into the kitchen for cakes?” 

The Melusines followed her outside, leaving Neuvillette and his wife alone in the parlor. 

“I apologize for their rowdiness,” Neuvillette said as he watched her gather the scattered paintings in her arms. “Please feel free to decline their requests if they inconvenience you.” 

“It’s no problem,” she said. “It was nice having so many people here. It reminds me of the old days. And I’ve never drawn Melusines before, so it was a fun challenge.” 

Neuvillette also stooped down to help her. He didn’t have the discerning eye for art, so he couldn’t make any comments as to technique, but he found that his wife’s paintings had a quality to them that made him yearn for something unidentifiable, which was what made them so fascinating to look at. 

“By the way, I finished your surprise,” she said. “Would you like to see it?” 

Neuvillette nodded, and she led him upstairs to her room. 

“It took me some time to work on it, because I had to use my imagination instead of drawing something I see,” she said, speaking a bit quickly. “And I wanted to use the paints you gave me carefully.” 

“Are they to your liking?” 

“Yes. The colors are so vibrant, and the brushes are so smooth, that I’m afraid that they are a bit wasted on me, since I don’t really paint because it’s my passion, so...” 

“But they are useful to you, are they not?” Neuvillette said. “Isn’t that enough?” 

“...I suppose so,” his wife said after a few moments of silence. She then cleared her throat and turned towards the covered easel near the window. “Here it is.” 

She lifted off the blanket, revealing a small canvas. At first, Neuvillette didn’t know what he was looking at. Then, his eyes recognized the amorphous blobs, the blurry line of blue in the distance. 

“This is a painting of the garden in rain,” he said, looking to her for confirmation. She nodded. 

“It hasn’t been raining at all recently, so I had to try hard to picture the scene in my mind.” 

“What made you choose this subject?” 

“Well...before, I’ve never really paid attention to the rain. It was just an excuse to stay home for me. But...then I would see you standing out in the rain, and I would suddenly notice all these things I haven’t seen before...so...” her voice trailed off, and she looked down. “I just wanted my first painting with your gift to be something you like.” 

Neuvillette felt an unfamiliar feeling in his heart. If he had to compare it to something, it would be feeling the heat of a warm current all around you after ages of swimming in the cold ocean.  

“Do you like it?” his wife asked, looking up at him. 

Neuvillette had to think about how to answer that. “...Yes, I do,” he said at last. “It’s my favorite of your works.” 

His hand reached out towards her head, his fingers running over her hair, gliding over her cheek, and rested on her shoulder. His wife stared at him quizzically. “Sir?” 

“...It’s nothing,” Neuvillette said. He wasn’t sure what came over him. 

“Monsieur Neuvillette!” Sedene’s voice sounded from downstairs. “We have a request for you!” 

“Sounds serious,” his wife quipped. 

The two went downstairs to the kitchen, where the Melusines were looking at paintings of houses with sunflowers standing in front of them. 

“Monsieur Neuvillette, what do you think of planting sunflowers in front of the front door, just like in Madame’s hometown?” Sedene asked. 

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Neuvillette said. “One rarely sees sunflowers in the city.” 

“I can ask my family to send us some seeds,” his wife said. “But one thing I’m worried about is the lack of rain lately, since sunflowers need a lot of water to grow.” 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Neuvillette said, drawing a confused look from her. 

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Taglist:@just-simping-over-genshin, @xalphafox, @jqnehr, @favficdump, @thetwinkims

Way Back Home | jww

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader genre: angst, fluff towards the end word count: 6.3k summary: after twelve years apart, you finally meet wonwoo again

warnings: this fic is set in the early 2000's (around 2003) so that's why communication is a little complicated

requests are open

“So, did the two of you have fun playing this stupid game?” you said as you finally took the call. 

The phone in your hotel room had been ringing for hours now. You were sure that the receptionist hated you. They knew you were in the room but still refused to pick up the call, so Jeonghan had been calling nonstop.

“What are we talking about exactly? You know I’m not a great player at anything really,” Jeonghan said, the humor in his voice evident. The fact that he treated the whole situation as a joke angered you even further. 

You and Jeonghan met while you were still in college, during your final internship before graduation. He was the one you were supposed to report to, and you were his first intern. All of it was a mess from the start, but not too much apparently, as they hired you as a full-time employee and he was in charge of training all the new interns. 

Eventually, Jeonghan got tired of being bossed around and decided to leave. He asked you to work for him and you said yes. That was two years before. Jeonghan was your best friend, the one person you trusted with most aspects of your life. So the fact that he did that, that he send you there without letting you know what you’d find waiting for you, hurt more than you could put into words. 

“You know that coming here meant seeing Wonwoo again,” you murmured, the pain in your voice evident.

You couldn’t get the look on Wonwoo’s face out of your mind. As if it had been engraved in your brain, it played back again and again. He looked at you with pure anger, nothing more. While you felt hopeful and happy, all you felt coming from Wonwoo was hatred. 

The last time you saw him, the two of you were sixteen years old. The worse part of your teenage life and probably the worse year of high school for both of you, until that moment. You often found solace in each other’s arms, in the whispered words spoken in the darkest hours of the night. You were each other’s only friend, the only comfort in those years. He was your best friend, the entire reason you found any strength to get out of bed. He was your lifeline, your safe haven.

And then you had to leave him behind and go to a place that could have been a paradise for you, but you hated it with every fiber of your being. Because sure, that life was a living hell, but at least you had him. And then you didn’t have him anymore, and it didn’t matter how many times you tried to contact him. Phone calls, letters, driving to him. All of it. Everything you could think of. The same way you vanished, so did him.

But there he was, looking so much like the boy you remembered, but at the same time completely different. He was taller than the boy in your memory, the sprout years of a boy really hitting him hard after you left. You couldn’t help but wonder if that happened the summer your parents took you away, or if it was the year after that.

Did he make it to college like he wanted, an architecture degree like yours, or he went for something else? Did he even make it to college at all? Judging by the fact that he stood in front of you, the answer was yes to both questions.

But all the while you were happy, thrilled even, to see him, Wonwoo didn’t seem to share the same feeling. His eyes seemed warm and welcoming once he opened the door, but when he realized that it was you, his entire posture changed. His eyes turned cold and avoided yours.

“I thought it was something you wanted,” Jeonghan said softly, quickly realizing that the issue was much bigger than he anticipated. 

You sighed again, watching the bright pink socks on your feet. 

Seeing Wonwoo again, after so many years, was something you had dreamed of and desired, but not without any sort of preparation. You needed time to think of something to say, how to approach him. Truthfully, you had thought about it so many times, had even thought about it the night you boarded the plane to go to him. But once he was in front of you, you froze in place and everything happened in the exact opposite way of what you expected and wished for. 

“It was, but I don’t think it’s something he wanted, Jeonghan. A relationship, in whichever shape or form, needs two people. Although I wanted something like this, to reconnect and maybe even try to be friends again, he needs to want it too”

Jeonghan wanted to say something but chose to stay quiet. He understood what you meant. Even if he had gotten the impression from Mingyu that seeing you again was something Wonwoo wanted, Jeonghan wasn’t about to defend the guy. 

“Do you want to come home?” you shook your head, knowing that Jeonghan couldn’t see you but sure that your silence would be enough of an answer “It’s your call, you say the word and I’ll get you on the next flight out”

“You know I don’t quit jobs, Jeonghan, so I’ll finish this”

And then you’d go home, to the memories you kept.

Walking inside the office Wonwoo shared with Mingyu was like leaving the warmth of a blanket and facing the raging snowstorm outside with nothing more than a t-shirt. Where Mingyu was bright and talkative, Wonwoo was cold and silent. 

Not once did he talk to you, or even looked your way. In fact, on most days, the second you walked in, Wonwoo closed his door and wouldn’t leave his office — not even for a bathroom break — while you were there.

“I’m sorry about him. He’s usually quiet but never really like this”

Your entire body shuddered at the loud sound of the door closing. Every day, since you arrived, Mingyu tried to find ways to make excuses for Wonwoo’s behavior. “he’s just shy”, “Wonwoo’s stressed out because of a different project, the client is giving him hell”, “he got drunk last night”. 

You just nodded and pretend to hear whatever it was that Mingyu came up with. All of those were valid reasons to be in a bad mood. You had gone through those emotions more than once. But never had you used those situations as ways to be rude to other people. 

And truthfully, you couldn’t even understand why Wonwoo was acting like that. In the twelve years since you last saw each other, it has been your dream to see him again. You never expected to pick up your friendship, but you hoped that you could at least be friendly. Clearly, Wonwoo didn’t feel the same way.

“You should have talked to him about it, before bringing me here,” you said as you rolled up the design in front of you “Jeonghan knew my feelings, but I’m guessing that you didn’t know about Wonwoo’s as well as you thought”

Mingyu sighed and looked at his friend’s closed office door. 

“I thought I knew him, that this was something that he wanted”

It didn’t take long for you to discover that Jeonghan and Mingyu worked together on the plan to make you and Wonwoo work together on the same project. It would have been an okay plan if the two of you could stay in the same room for more than twenty seconds. But the moment Wonwoo found out that you would be in the project, he stepped back and Mingyu was doing all the work in his place. 

It wasn’t like Wonwoo didn’t do anything at all while you were there. He worked on other projects. Or just about anything that made him stay as far away as possible from you. 

“I’m going to work on these at the hotel, okay?” you raised the tube in your hands and smiled “He probably needs to pee or eat at this point”

Mingyu watched as you grabbed your purse and waved goodbye once you reached the door. Less than a minute later, the door to Wonwoo’s office opened and he walked out, after quickly making sure that you were nowhere to be seen. He stretched his arms to the sides and then slowly above his head before heading to the bathroom. 

“Until when exactly will you keep doing this?” Mingyu asked once Wonwoo left the bathroom. He watched as his friend sat in the same spot you were just a few minutes before and went through the blueprints you worked on. His fingers traced the words you had written, slightly smudging them

“Why are you over here longing over a drawing when you could be talking to her, understanding what actually happened back then?”

Wonwoo shook his head.

“You brought her here, you deal with her. If we talk, it won’t be pretty” 

Twelve years' worth of hurt and anger that had been carefully tucked away had been brought back to the surface the second he saw you. He had seen you before you saw him. He was at the window looking at the people moving across the street, hurrying here and there when he saw you. Your face briefly glanced at the notebook in your hands before looking around, as if you were looking for something or someone. It didn’t take him long to realize that you were looking for a place, and that place was exactly where he was. 

Shock, dread, and something else he hadn’t felt in years crept into his body as he watched in absolute horror as you greeted Mingyu, a bright smile on your face. A smile that dropped when you saw him. 

Even from across the room, Wonwoo could tell that your eyes filled with tears, your lips forming his name without ever making a sound. The tears gave room to hope as you smiled at him. Mingyu, who was in front of you talking excitedly, was completely forgotten for a moment.

Still, Wonwoo couldn’t share that happiness with you.

“So you’re going to hold over her head something that happened when the two of you were sixteen?”

“Yeah” was all Wonwoo said.

By the end of week two, you were exhausted and had had enough of Wonwoo pretending that you didn’t exist and Mingyu making excuses on his behalf. 

You made excuses for him as well. 

Wonwoo, as a teenager, was someone who needed time to understand certain situations and come up with a plan. When talking to Mingyu about him, you understood that part of his personality hadn’t changed. So you gave him time, plenty of it. Tried to not feel hurt over it, all the ways he avoided you, how Mingyu was the one working with you when Wonwoo should be the one doing it. 

But enough was, eventually, enough, and you handled it as best as you could, for as long as you could. The project was far from being done. If you were optimistic and everything went according to plan, there was still a month of work to be done.

“Is that door locked?” you asked Mingyu once you walked inside the office.

Mingyu looked over his shoulder at Wonwoo’s door and at his friend through the glass door. Although he looked focused on whatever it was that he was doing, he was way more concerned about everything that was happening outside.

“Go crazy,” he answered with a smile.

Setting your bag where you usually sat, you marched to Wonwoo’s office. He merely looked at you over his glasses before looking back at his computer.

“I’m busy right now”

“I don’t actually give a fuck” you pushed the screen of his computer until it was closed in front of him “I’ve given you two weeks, allowed you to treat me like shit but I’ve had enough of that”

He leaned back in his chair, a condescending smile on his lips, and he had never quite looked so handsome before.

You tried your best not to stare at him too much, but he was all man now. Every time you looked at him, your heart did the same thing it did when you were a teenager. You tingled everywhere, but you still held yourself back from reaching for him. Just for a second, you wanted to hold his hand and feel his skin against yours.

However, the wall Wonwoo built in front of you was so high that you felt like you were wrong just from breathing in the same room as him.

“I know it’s been twelve years, and I don’t expect things to be how they used to be, but I thought that if this day ever happened, we would at least be friendly. Why are you treating me like this?”

“You left, you couldn’t possibly expect things to be different from what they are now”

Wonwoo was right. You left, but even after twelve years, it was still the hardest thing you ever did. And it was the one thing you had absolutely no control over. You were sixteen and your dad hated Wonwoo so much that he found a job in a different city, so you would move somewhere else.

You found out about it a couple of days before it actually happened. You and Wonwoo came up with a plan to keep in touch until you were eighteen and finally free to do whatever you wanted.

Phone calls are just for emergencies, you and Wonwoo agreed, so let’s communicate through letters, I’ll send the first one because I still don’t know exactly where they’re taking me but we can go back and forth after that.

For months you wrote letters that were never answered, but you thought that delivery was bad and nothing more. Only realizing that something was off once when you started to get the letters back. There was no hint of them being ever opened and the stamp recipient refused correspondence in bright red. 

Then the phone calls started. She asked Jihoon, a friend from school, to make the call, afraid that if whoever answered heard her voice, they would call her dad. The calls were always made in the specific hours Wonwoo instructed you but he was never there to answer.

“You’re right, I left. But what I can’t understand is why you’re acting like this when you were the one who never answered”

An incredulous laugh left Wonwoo’s mouth as he got up. He was still taller than you, the different bigger than in your memory. His shoulders got broader too. Your hands shook as you pushed them inside the pockets of your jacket.

“I never answered because you never wrote or called”

You shook your head, stepping back and hitting the glass wall behind you. You looked over your shoulder for a second to find Mingyu staring at you, probably listening to every word you said.

“For two years I wrote to you, every week as we planned, and every single time the letters were returned to me. I had a guy from school call your house every other week but you never once picked up the call. We had to stop when your brother started to think that you were in trouble” 

The same condescending smile was still on his lips. Wonwoo didn’t believe you, not for a second. There were no letters, no phone calls. You had never tried to reach him in any way.

“You never really cared, y/n. Be honest with me, I was just the guy who gave you some attention when you lacked it from your parents. I’m sure the guy from school you mentioned was happy to fill in for me”

Your entire body shook, out of hurt and anger. You wanted to lash out at him, scream or something, anything at all, that would make him understand. But he was convinced and if he was still anything like the boy you knew, there was no chance of convincing him.

You turned your back to him, your shaky fingers reaching for the door handle. You rested your head on the door for a second, trying your best to push the air back into your lungs.

“You were my best friend” you whispered, so low that Wonwoo almost missed it “You were the most important person in the world to me. There was only you”

You pulled the door open and stepped outside. You were never one to cry in front of people, even if that was all you wanted but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop once Mingyu was in sight again. Or at least a very blurry version of him.

“y/n…” Mingyu reached for you, his hand on your shoulder. And then he felt it, your body shaking so violently that it surprised him that he couldn’t see it happening “Let me drive you back”

You shook your head, stepping away from his touch. Mingyu was nice and kind, his presence was the only source of comfort amidst Wonwoo’s coldness. He did his best to make you feel welcomed but he couldn’t do anything for you anymore.

“I can just call a taxi” you pushed away the tears away and tried to smile at him, trying to assure him, “I’m fine, don’t worry”

Only when you were on the other side of the street, you allowed yourself to let out the sobs that were stuck in your throat. Everything hurt, but most of all, your heart was shattering into a million different pieces once again.

Throughout the entire weekend Wonwoo felt uncomfortable in his own skin, something that hadn’t happened to him in many years. 

He didn’t expect the way you left his office to affect him so much, or at all, to be honest. What he said to you was part of the little speech he practiced over the years, in case he ever saw you again. What he didn’t practice was the part where you cried and said that you tried to contact him for years.

He realized he was wrong when he saw the shock on your face. He started to think that maybe the things he believed for years were lies 

So he did the only thing that he could think of. He stayed inside his car, outside the hotel you were staying at, building up the courage to get out and talk to you.

It was awfully hard, Wonwoo realized, to admit that he was wrong for so many years. And it was even a little embarrassing to think that he didn’t need any convincing at all. When Mingyu barged into his office, Wonwoo was already fully convinced that he was, in fact, wrong.

He watched as you left the building with nothing but a wallet and your phone and went to the coffee shop on the other side of the street.

“She used to hate coffee,” he said to himself.

He felt like a stalker, watching you in secret. But that feeling wasn’t enough to shake him. He was okay with being a creep for a little while if it meant making sure that you were alright.

Your eyes seemed a little puffy and you looked down at your phone for a second before pressing it to your ear. You were quiet for a moment before you spoke to whoever was on the line. You were on the phone the entire time you waited for your drink.

Wonwoo felt a sharp pain in his chest as the frown on your face eased and a small smile appeared on your lips.

It had never occurred to him that you could have been in a relationship, that there was someone in your life. He was so focused on the memory of you, that he let go of the person in front of him.

“We’ll talk on Monday” he promised himself “Let’s calm down for now”

Weekends usually went by quickly for Wonwoo, much to his disappointment. He used to love to be by himself, in his apartment, watching TV, or sleeping. 

But that one weekend, in specific, dragged on and on. Never before was he so desperately waiting for Sunday to end. He purposely got to the office later than usual. Wonwoo wanted to make sure that you were already there. He wanted to apologize and maybe have a decent conversation with you for a change, one that didn’t end with you crying.

Wonwoo felt a tingle of disappointment when he noticed that you weren’t anywhere to be seen. Instead, going over the blueprints you were working on friday was a man he had never seen before. 

“Ah, Wonwoo” Mingyu said “This is Jeonghan, y/n works for him”

Jeonghan stood up and reached out to shake Wonwoo’s hand. 

“It may be my name on the door, but she’s the soul of the firm, so I’d say that I work for her”

His smile looked innocent enough, but Wonwoo knew better and it was obvious why Jeonghan was there. You had left.

“Can we talk?” Jeonghan asked from the door.

He didn’t wait for Wonwoo’s answer and walked in without an invitation.

Wonwoo watched him quietly all morning. The way he interacted with Mingyu, how he moved around the office. It was easy to see personality traits being shared by the two of you, from the way the two of you used the same wording in a sentence to how he even moved around the office.

Wonwoo wondered if he was the person you had been talking with on the phone on Saturday.

“Sure”

Jeonghan moved to sit on the chair in front of Wonwoo. The box in his hand never felt heavier.

“I don’t appreciate y/n calling me, in the middle of the night, in panic, begging me to let her go home” he did his best to keep his voice leveled but it was hard to “I’ve known her years and something like this never happened before” 

Wonwoo’s heart felt tight inside his chest as if someone was squeezing it. He didn’t mean it, he didn’t want to hurt you at all he realized. He was filled with regret the moment he spoke. Jeonghan’s words explained why Mingyu said that you had a family emergency and that’s why you left in a hurry because that’s probably what you told him. Needless to say, neither of them believed it. Wonwoo much less, considering your past relationship with your parents.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said those things to her”

Sighing, Jeonghan put the box in front of Wonwoo.

“These are letters she wrote. She kept them for the past twelve years. I told her many times to throw them away but I was the one who stopped her this time around”

Jeonghan knew that he was going to regret his decision. Once Wonwoo went through them, there was no way he wouldn’t  want to talk to you. Wonwoo stayed quiet as Jeonghan flexed his fingers on the edges of the shoe box, one that Wonwoo remembered all too well.

“You like her”

“From the moment I saw her” Jeonghan answered with a nod, finally pushing the box away from him “But there was never really a place for me, not like that”

He stood, pushing the chair back, putting his hands deep inside his pockets.

“If you hurt her, even if you don’t mean to, I’ll be sure to make you regret that decision every single day for the rest of your life”

Hi Wonwoo,

On my way here I kept thinking about how I would write that this place sucks, that the school is awful and absolutely no one here talks to me. It was a plan, you know? But if I did that, I would be lying and sounding like a bratty teenager. So I won’t. 

The house Dad found is so cool, there’s a swing set in the back and my room is also nice. School doesn’t seem too bad either and I’ve made friends. There’s this boy, our age, who I share classes with, Jihoon, who I think you’d like. I’m thinking about asking him to call you when I can’t deal with not hearing your voice anymore. Not now, of course, but at some point in the future.

I’ve been gone for three weeks, and I already miss you like crazy. I started to miss you once we were on the road. Not seeing you or talking to you for three weeks is torture. In a way, I guess, my parents are succeeding. I miss the feeling I had waking up, knowing that I would get to see you, that we would go to the woods behind the school and just talk. About anything and everything. 

Sorry this first letter isn’t long, there isn’t much going on and I still don’t know what to say. Also, I’m sorry it took me so long to write. Dad has been paying attention to what I do, so I’ve been trying to keep quiet so he’ll leave me alone.

I miss you a lot,

yn

Hi Wonwoo,

So, something weird happened today. All the letters I’ve sent so far, six, came back as if you had refused to receive them. Did something happen? I’m sure it’s just a mistake, but I just want to make sure.

Either way, I’ll keep writing, but I’ll ask Jihoon to make the call tomorrow. We’ll come up with a plan so that no one finds out that I’m the one calling. 

Please be there when we call, and please pick up the phone.

I miss you

yh

Hi Wonwoo,

It’s been months now and I can’t get a hold of you, the letters are still being rejected and the calls too. You’re never there, not even once. 

I keep holding out the hope that your life just changed, for the better. Now you have new friends and a girlfriend so you’re busy with the new life. If that’s the case and that’s why you pushed me away, then it’s fine. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy and if me not being part of your life helps that happiness then I’ll gladly stay away.

But you’re happy, right?

Please find happiness, Wonwoo. In whatever shape or form that you can find. There’s no one else in this world that deserves it more than you. 

I think I’ll keep writing to you, maybe not as often, but I’ll keep writing either way. Even if you don’t think of me as a friend anymore, you’re still that someone for me.

I hope your college plans didn’t change. I really want to see you again. 

I miss you so much. I think I’m going crazy.

yn

Wonwoo,

I just got back home. It was such a long drive, and it only made me realize that I hate driving more than anything else. I’d just rather either walk or take the bus. But that’s not really important right now.

For the past few years, I’ve written you letters. A lot at first and then fewer as time went by. It’s not that nice to write letters that will be sent back, never read. But still, I wrote, hoping that maybe, just maybe, this one would be the one you’d accept. You never did, though.

So I made a promise to myself that the second I turned eighteen, when my parents couldn’t hold their power of legal guardians over me, I would get inside my car and drive all the way back to you. If he’s going to reject me, then he has to do it in my face. I think I just like being hurt or something, but honestly, you’re the only one that I’d go this far for.

Anyway.

Four days ago it was my eighteenth birthday so I got in my car at two in the morning and drove back to our hometown. I kept thinking about what I would say to you and not a whole lot came to mind. I just wanted to hug you. That’s the only thought that crossed my mind. Even if he rejects me, I’m going to hug him for 5 entire seconds. I’m sort of pathetic, right? 

It’s okay, only you get to see this version of me. Ever.

So I got there and went straight to your house. Your brother, he’s so tall now, was the only one there and he said that you were gone. Left the week before and he didn’t know where you went.

Obviously, I didn’t believe him. If I had a brother and he left, I’d want to know where he went. So I stayed in town for 3 days. I went to the places you’d usually go to, but mostly to the lake. I parked my car as close as possible and slept inside it. Careless, I know. It was also terrifying. But nothing bad happened, so please give me a pass on the lecture.

As expected, I didn’t find you there either. You know, one would think that you’re dead, considering that there’s no way to find you at all. But I also asked if you were alive and the answer was yes and an incredulous laugh so…

After sitting alone in my car for an hour, crying, I came back home. And I made a decision.

I don’t know what you’ll do with your life, if you’re going to the college we agreed on or if you’re going to college at all. Either way, I won’t look for you. I will do my best to never search for your name anywhere (which I have and there was no Jeon Wonwoo anywhere)

This is also the last letter that I ever write to you. There’s no point in writing to someone who will never read what you want to say to them. There’s no point in loving someone who doesn’t love you back. 

Because I do, Wonwoo. I really do love you. Not as just a friend, as in love with you. I remember thinking that you weren’t accepting my letters because you had a girlfriend and nothing hurt more than that. Because I would have chosen you, even if we were to remain just friends. It was always you for me. Or maybe an idolized version of you.

Because now you are forever the love that never was, one that I just never got to live to the fullest.

I’m sorry if my love for you was suffocating.

I’ll stop loving you now and live the college life to the best of my abilities.  

If we see each other by chance, let’s just smile and move on. Let us be a good memory of our teenage years.

yn

You felt apologetic towards Jeonghan. He was a friend and also your boss, but he was out there covering for you because you couldn’t bring yourself to not care anymore. 

Twelve years since you last saw Wonwoo, ten since the last letter you wrote to him. Three different relationships, with people that were wildly different from him, and at every single turn the guy was compared to him. Without a fault, no one was as good as him. 

And being honest, it was so stupid to compare grown men to the memory of a teenage boy. For all you knew, Wonwoo could have turned into a completely different person. And he did. It just wasn’t a version of him you liked very much.

So maybe, who Wonwoo had grown to be wasn’t someone you would have loved. Maybe him treating you like that was what you needed to finally get him out of your mind.

The love that never was, you remember writing. Perhaps now you could change that thought to the love that never was because it turns out that Wonwoo is a complete asshole.

You looked at your computer screen, reading the e-mail Jeonghan sent you earlier. 

you| If there’s anything I can help you with, please tell me. Also, apologize to Mingyu for me. I was so desperate to leave that I didn’t say bye to him

jeonghan| He says ‘I heard what Wonwoo said, there’s nothing to apologize for’ and you should focus on the projects there. There’s enough to do on your end as well, now that you’re me for the time being

You smiled lightly, closing your laptop and finally pulling the blankets over your legs. Although you were offering to help, you hoped that Jeonghan would tell you not to do anything for now. You felt bad and working was always a coping mechanism for you but the situation somehow felt like a breakup, the worst kind. So all you wanted to do was lay on your couch, watching a romcom, wondering where it had gone so wrong for you.

How stupid it was that you had gotten your heart broken twice, by the same guy, without ever being in a relationship with him? Without ever kissing him? 

“Jeon Wonwoo, always making me look like a fool”

Somewhere in the middle of the second movie you had fallen asleep but it wasn’t the light from the TV that woke you. It was the never-ending knocking on your door.

With legs that were yet to wake up, you walked to the door, standing on your tiptoes to reach the peephole. You took a step back, the door suddenly on fire under your palms.

Wonwoo.

You didn’t want to answer the door, didn’t want to fight with him once again because you knew you’d lose. You’d just let him scream, say whatever acid words he had saved for you.

“Please, y/n, open the door. I know you’re in there, I can hear the TV and I see your shadow from under the door”

You leaned your head against the door, the tears already running freely down your cheeks. You did such a good job of not crying. The six hours of crying sessions, that led to the worst migraine ever known to man, had been enough. You decided that you had no more tears left to cry for Wonwoo. And yet there you were, crying over his voice, over the fact that he was at your door, somehow.

“Go away, Wonwoo, please”

“Can you, at least hear me out? You don’t have to open the door at all. Just please, please, hear me out. You can tell me to fuck off later. OK?”

He took your silence as a positive answer. Wonwoo took a deep breath before he started.

“I never got your letters, not one of them. I didn’t reject them as you said, I would have never done that. If there was anything I wanted when I was sixteen was to hear from you. I didn’t know about the phone calls either. If I can be honest, there was once a brief mention of a call to me but nothing other than that and by that point, I was already angry enough to not care. I thought that your parents were holding you back, somehow, from contacting me. So I kept waiting and waiting. I asked at school if they had gotten letters under my name. I thought that maybe you were scared to send the letters to my house but there was nothing there either.

“And with time, I got hurt and angrier and then hurt some more. That silence was like a confirmation of what everyone used to think, but it came from you. And that hurt more than anything else because you were the one person who ever saw me as someone who mattered too. I’m sorry I said those things to you, I really am, you don’t know how sorry I am. I regretted saying them the second the words left my mouth. The last thing I ever want is to hurt you”

There was a pause and a soft knock on the door and, somehow you just know that Wonwoo was crying too. A quiet sob a second later was all the confirmation you needed. You had never seen him cry before. Even back then, while talking about things that obviously hurt him, Wonwoo would still keep that serene and peaceful look in his eyes. Hearing him cry was breaking your heart all over again, in ways that you weren’t even aware were possible. Your fingers moved to the door handle, and you unlocked it, pulling it open.

Wonwoo’s eyes and nose were red, tear paths running down his cheeks. 

Without thinking about it, you stepped outside and wrapped your arms around his waist, your head pressed against his chest. The sound of his heart beating wildly brought some sort of comfort, like listening to this one song you’ve been waiting for your entire life, the one that was always in the back of your mind and you could never quite find it. Until you did. 

It was right there, the sound of his beating heart.

It felt like home.

He was home.

“Look at me,” Wonwoo asked, his voice barely a whisper. 

You looked up at him, your chin on his chest. You refused to take a step back. 

The small smile that overtook your lips was unstoppable once you saw the look in Wonwoo’s eyes. Long gone was the look of pure hatred that he had on that first day. He was suddenly the Wonwoo you knew again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his fingertips brushing against your cheeks, pushing away the last of your tears, and then his lips were on your cheeks, then your forehead “I’m sorry we lost eleven years, I would do anything to get them back”

You brought his hand to your lips, placing a soft kiss on his knuckles.

“Let’s do our best to not lose the next twelve then”

a/n: thank you for reading! reblogs, comments and likes are always welcomed

Wonwoo: Achilles Masterlist

With a title like ‘humanity’s strongest soldier’, Wonwoo is the best of the best with zero weaknesses. But when the female titan betrays the scouts and runs away to Marley, Seungcheol decides to enlist the help of you: one of the people aboard the Marleyan ship sent out to sabotage them. And it’s then that Wonwoo discovers his one weakness that might just be his downfall.

(a/n: while this au doesn’t take place in the same universe as attack on titan [there aren’t any of those characters in this au and it doesn’t go off of the exact plot of aot so a lot of things might not and/or won’t match up] this story will still contain some spoilers from the actual anime, so if you’re watching the show i don’t suggest reading unless you’re caught up!!)

Info (contains AoT spoilers)

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Epilogue